Free and legal MP3: SheLoom

Bringing Bob Welch back

She Loom

“One More Day” – SheLoom

Welcome to a song that doesn’t sound like a lot that you’ve probably been listening to lately, unless you have had an unaccountable hankering for your old Bob Welch records. (Nah, I didn’t think so.)

Needless to say, “One More Day” isn’t the product of some net-addled 21st-century rock band, but a collaboration between two nimble studio veterans. Both Filippo Gaetani and Jordon Zadorozny have track records extending backwards to the ’90s, and the breadth of experience to pull off this jazzy slice of pseudo-’70s rock. I’ll leave it to the even more philosophically minded than I to ponder why it can be so enjoyable to hear new music smartly influenced by old music that one never liked all that much in the first place. A conundrum for our catholic times, musically speaking. But I’m digging a lot about this, from those jazz-inflected suspended chords to the deft shifts in rhythm (from intro to verse, verse to bridge, bridge to chorus) and then the way the meandery verse leads into what amounts to a double chorus—the bridge and chorus are distinct but interrelated, and each offers a sturdy melody delivered with a stirring mixture of nostalgia and creativity.

“One More Day” is from the SheLoom album Seat of the Empire, digitally released last week by Minty Fresh Records. MP3 via Minty Fresh.

Free and legal MP3: Sambassadeur (shiny, cinematic Swedish pop)

At first (aural) glance, “I Can Try” succeeds nicely as a sweeping piece of orchestrated twee pop. Which is almost just fine. Except for the fact that each time I go back to listen, things get more complicated and unusual-sounding.

Sambassadeur

“I Can Try” – Sambassadeur

At first (aural) glance, “I Can Try” succeeds nicely as a sweeping piece of orchestrated twee pop. Which is almost just fine. Except for the fact that each time I go back to listen, things get more complicated and unusual-sounding. To begin with, what’s with the drumming? You’ve got the snare going full-blast, but delivering that shuffled up third beat—especially pronounced in the chorus, it happens throughout the song, and, in combination with that unrelenting double-time high-hat, creates a chugging rhythm that simultaneously barrels forward and hesitates.

Then there’s the melody, which is certainly as sweet-sad as the genre requires, and yet there’s something more to it. The melody in both the verse and the chorus is a nice long line, the verse melody resolving with an upward tilt while the chorus offers a steady downward release. But here’s an odd thing: the melody in the chorus extends for nine measures, which is not only unusual but difficult. Typically pop songs are constructed around sets of four measures or eight measures. It’s what the music often demands and our ears almost always expect. Here an extra measure sneaks in without causing the slightest fuss. And yet somewhere deep down we sense something’s off balance. That’s not very twee. The orchestration likewise isn’t quite what it seems. We hear strings near the beginning and think, “Oh, of course.” But it’s a string quartet, not a string section, and they spend more time stabbing staccato riffs than bowing maudlin flourishes. And when the horns arrive—the horns must always arrive—it’s a saxophone. Whatever became of the saxophone, anyway?

“I Can Try” is from the third Sambassadeur album, Europeans, released on Labrador Records in February. The Gothenburg-based quartet has been previously featured on Fingertips twice, once for each of its first two albums, in 2005 and in 2007. MP3 via Labrador.

Free and legal MP3: The Spires (smartly written, Velvet-y garage rock)

The guitar line upon which “Orange Yellow” is built is a thing of rock’n’roll beauty: sturdy, jangly, memorable, and simple-sounding without actually being that simple. Listen carefully and you’ll hear how the line turns upon a time-signature trick that adds two extra beats every third measure. This creates a delicious delay in the unfolding resolution; the resulting asymmetry is somehow marvelous and true.

The Spires

“Orange Yellow” – the Spires

The guitar line upon which “Orange Yellow” is built is a thing of rock’n’roll beauty: sturdy, jangly, memorable, and simple-sounding without actually being that simple. Listen carefully and you’ll hear how the line turns upon a time-signature trick that adds two extra beats every third measure. This creates a delicious delay in the unfolding resolution; the resulting asymmetry is somehow marvelous and true.

Laid upon this potent foundation, the song does well with its neo-Velvets vibe—singer Jason Bays even has something of a nasally, Lou Reed-ish semi-warble—even while bouncy along with more of a SoCal than a downtown groove. Production is garage-ish, but knowingly so, or even mischievously so: I feel certain that the ’60s buzzy-fuzzy aura is not merely purposeful but exists to distract the listener from quite how beautifully crafted the song is.

The Spires are a trio from Ventura featuring Bays on guitar, his wife Colleen Coffey on drums, and Catelyn Kindred on bass. “Orange Yellow” will be found on the band’s Curved Space EP, to be released later this month on Beehouse Records. Beehouse was created by Bays and Coffey in 2004 so they could release their stuff and has become an actual record label. A few other free and legal MP3s from the band can be found on the Beehouse site.

Free and legal MP3: Blonde Redhead

Dreamy, with deep appeal

Blonde Redhead

“Here Sometimes” – Blonde Redhead

Some bands have an uncanny ability to delight–something in the sound, the vibe, the singer’s voice, the combination of melody and rhythm, or something even more elusive, feels just right, entices the ear before any actual “hooks” or “catchy parts” arrive. Blonde Redhead is that kind of band. There are no hooks or catchy parts in “Here Sometimes,” a song that appeals deeply, at a level likely beyond analysis.

But me being me, I’m still going to try to break it down a little. And so first: listen to the opening section, in which Kazu Makino sings over a rhythmic accompaniment that itself is an inscrutable blend of an organic and electronic beat. She sings a leisurely, wistful, slightly complex melody that stretches out over 20 measures, with a couple of thoughtful pauses. A synthesizer joins very subtly along the way, but 49 seconds pass before the music starts in earnest–a mix of disparate keyboard sounds and a deliberate, syncopated bass line. And listen now to how the chords described by the instruments floating through the background change the melody dramatically. (Compare, for instance, the sound at 0:24 to 1:04—same melodic point, entirely different experience.) It’s an odd song, instrumentally, come to think of it, lacking any obvious “lead” instrument or even any sort of dominant sound; we get one 15-second synthesizer break (2:00) but even that is elusive, featuring sounds that evanesce if you listen too closely. I think the instrumental vagueness is part of what gives “Here Sometimes” its dreamy force, not to mention thematic resonance (the idea of being “here sometimes,” but not all the time).

Makino has been in Blonde Redhead with twin brothers Simone and Amedeo Pace since 1993. The band used to be larger but has been a trio since the mid-’90s. “Here Sometimes” will appear on the album Penny Sparkle, which is coming in September on 4AD. It’ll be their eighth album, and their first since 2007. MP3 via Better Propaganda.

Free and legal MP3: Shiv Hurrah

Wilco-ish and melodic

Shiv Hurrah

“Oh Oh Oh” – Shiv Hurrah

This is a brand new band but they don’t sound like it. Because in a way they’re not—four of the five guys in Shiv Hurrah grew up together in Rochester, New York, and played in a band there in the early ’00s. Ten years, two cities, and one additional band member later, they regrouped in Brooklyn early this year, and early this month released the first results of their renewed labors—a five-song self-titled digital album, available for free, that includes this unknown beauty of a song.

Or call it, more accurately, a diamond in the rough. The production is a problem, and I don’t just mean the mixed-down vocals (which some of course do on purpose). I don’t mind a bit of DIY but the oddly recorded drums are surely more accident than strategy; I suggest not turning the volume too high so that tom that reverberates weirdly every now and then is less distracting. And yet I keep coming back to it, charmed by the relaxed ease of the Wilco-ish groove and, truly, slayed by the strength of the songwriting. What a great great melody, and how quickly it arrives! Most songs need a lot more set-up time, but this one gives us a brilliant, back-door resolution right at the end of the first line of the verse (first heard from 0:44 to 0:46). It’s the kind of resistance-melting melody that enhances the lyrics so that they zing and pierce—get a hold of how it supports the line (1:04) “But I’m the one who taught you how to tie that knot.” Brilliant. Another strong sign is the fact that this homely song from an unknown band offers a great new rock’n’roll lyric, near the end, too: “I never get homesick/I just get sick of my home.” Production challenges and all, front man David Bechle sometimes sounds like a million bucks, and shows me that his new (old) band is well worth keeping an eye on.

“Oh Oh Oh” is the fifth and final song from the band’s debut EP, a digital-only release that is available for free via Bandcamp.

Free and legal MP3: Buried Beds (upbeat, off-kilter, semi-Beatlesque)

Buried Beds

“Breadcrumb Trail” – Buried Beds

So we already knew that Eliza Jones (nee Hardy) has one sweet voice. Buried Beds was featured here in 2006 for the gorgeous, melancholy “Camellia,” and her pure-toned but lived-in presence gave a beautiful song extra depth and meaning.

This time, the band cranks and swings and bashes around a bit, orchestrally speaking, all in the service of some upbeat but slightly off-kilter, semi-Beatlesque pop. It’s less obvious than last time but I think the song still revolves around Jones; she’s a powerful singer, without having to belt or bray to demonstrate command. Her prowess is on display instead in subtle moments, like the way she drags the phrase “He can’t find the man he was” behind the peppy beat (0:14) or the abruptly delicate manner in which she delivers the song’s interesting punchline at 2:29.

Buried Beds is a five-piece from Philadelphia, where the band stays active on stage even as the recordings have been few and far between. “Breadcrumb Trail” is from the band’s just-released second album, Tremble the Sails. MP3 via the band’s site. Thanks to Bruce at Some Velvet Blog for the head’s up.

Free and legal MP3: The Roots (terrific reworking of MOF tune)

The Roots

“Dear God 2.0” – the Roots

That’s Jim James (ok, Yim Yames) at the beginning and it’s the same “Dear God” as appeared on the Monsters of Folk album—that is, until the Roots’ Black Thought takes over. (I like, by the way, how long he waits. This is a confident band. And check out that great “Uh-huh” with which he starts his rap after James, both times.) I don’t think you have to be a big hip-hop fan (lord knows I have no expertise in the area) to sense the glory in this performance. The voice rumbles more with weariness than anger, or even pain; words tumble out but with great discipline; thoughts pile onto thoughts almost haphazardly but stark themes emerge; and—nimble trick, this—words that don’t really rhyme are made to sound better than if they did. (e.g. “Why is the world ugly when you made it in your image?/And why is living life such a fight to the finish?”) And everything floating on top of a jazz-informed soul groove, soft but persuasive, with some really sweet chord progressions, if you wait and listen for them.

And listen, I know the distance I tend to keep from hip-hop is a generational thing. I find it hard to warm to music without melody and (often) without a lot of actual instruments, and hard to warm to vocalists who seem to all want to sound the same, not to mention lyrical content that often seems so bleak and short-sighted. But never mind all that right now. This song’s the real deal, and so is this band.

“Dear God 2.0” is from the Roots’ new album How I Got Over, due out next week on Def Jam. MP3 via Pitchfork.

Free and legal MP3: Sea of Bees (rumbly, minor-key goodness)

Rich, deep, and flowing, “Marmalade” has the rumble of some muddy, alt-rock classic, complete with rubbed-out vocals and a battery of guitar sounds, from fuzzy-growly to acoustic-strummy to lonesome-seering. For all the ground-level noise and minor-key darkness, however, the song lifts and soars most wonderfully. It’s an intriguing effect.

Julie Ann Bee

“Marmalade” – Sea of Bees

Rich, deep, and flowing, “Marmalade” has the rumble of some muddy, alt-rock classic, complete with rubbed-out vocals and a battery of guitar sounds, from fuzzy-growly to acoustic-strummy to lonesome-seering. For all the ground-level noise and minor-key darkness, however, the song lifts and soars most wonderfully. It’s an intriguing effect.

Julie Ann Bee’s voice is central to “Marmalade”‘s appeal. Even as she buries the brighter and quirkier aspects of her singing under the song’s portentous textures, she doesn’t give in to cliched howling–an impressive feat especially as the song features plenty of wordless “oh-oh”-ing, which lord knows could’ve been howled. Instead she plays to a dusky quality in her voice that you almost don’t hear here but in almost not hearing it’s all the more engaging. I think. Meanwhile, listen to how the various guitars combine into an almost orchestral unity of purpose. Not a sound is wasted; propelled by a swift, unstinting rhythm and its plaintive minor key, the song is a fast, involving ride, ending, each time I listen, before I quite expect it.

“Marmalade” is from Sea of Bees’ debut full-length CD, Songs For The Ravens, released last month on Crossbill Records. Sea of Bees is a musical project masterminded and performed by the Sacramento-based Bee (nee Baenzinger), with an assist from producer John Baccigaluppi and a few guests.

Free and legal MP3: Simian Ghost (warm, graceful electronic pop)

The allure of electronic pop is also its abiding challenge: the transformation of an alienating aural landscape of beeps and tones and tinkles and ripples into music with some emotional impact. There’s a thin line between elegant and icy, and the best electronic pop music glides along that line without breaking a sweat.

Simian Ghost

“Star Receiver” – Simian Ghost

The allure of electronic pop is also its abiding challenge: the transformation of an alienating aural landscape of beeps and tones and tinkles and ripples into music with some emotional impact. There’s a thin line between elegant and icy, and the best electronic pop music glides along that line without breaking a sweat.

“Star Receiver” glows with not only elegance but genuine warmth. Listen to how it builds itself up from a few meandering synth lines, grounding the song from the start in something not simply mechanical sounding. Even after the beat kicks in (0:16), the listener’s ear is drawn to the sounds that either float above or weave themselves gently around the basic rhythm. The effect is unhurried and idiosyncratic rather than robotic or clock-like. When the groove is completed by the deft integration of an acoustic guitar (0:48), the rhythm gets a discernible riff and, ultimately, after an entirely unhurried series of graceful repetitions, a genuine, resolving melody (1:32). And then, at long last, Sebastian Arnström begins singing. This is its own kind of treat–his lovely tenor is at once firm and delicate, the trace of an unplaceable accent adding to its subtle tremor. He backs himself up, elusively, with vocals that echo in a lower pitch, adding spaciousness and intrigue. Soon we get a sound nearly like a violin, or maybe a harmonica. The whole thing glistens and bubbles and moves.

Arnström is in the Swedish band Aerial; Simian Ghost is a side project. “Star Receiver” is from the debut Simian Ghost album, Infinite Traffic Everywhere, set for release in the fall on Nomethod Records, a Swedish label. MP3 via Nomethod.

Free and legal MP3: Kathryn Calder (New Pornographer goes solo)

Beginning as a pensive bit of Jane Siberry-like abstractness, fueled by little more than an egg shaker and a spare piano line, “Slip Away” unfolds deliberately, but never loses my attention. Despite the minimal instrumentation, the song opens with a strong melody and a prolonged sense of anticipation. It’s two full minutes before the music stretches out a bit and yet I’m with it all the way.

Kathryn Calder

“Slip Away” – Kathryn Calder

Beginning as a pensive bit of Jane Siberry-like abstractness, fueled by little more than an egg shaker and a spare piano line, “Slip Away” unfolds deliberately, but never loses my attention. Despite the minimal instrumentation, the song opens with a strong melody and a prolonged sense of anticipation. It’s two full minutes before the music stretches out a bit and yet I’m with it all the way. I’ve heard plenty of 20-second introductions that lose my interest way more easily.

And then at 2:15, the song really kicks in, and the kicking-in part is at once lyrically incidental–there are no lyrics in it at all, in fact–and musically central, radiating out both forward and backward in time, illuminating both what we’ve already heard and what we are about to hear. What I think we have here is a lyric-free chorus, sung without words, which I’m not sure I’ve heard too often. But what a wonderful, dynamic thing it is, with a melody taking almost yodelly leaps that would surely have defeated any effort to be burdened with language.

Calder is a singer and keyboard player from Vancouver who is best known at this point for being the least known person in the New Pornographers. She also co-fronts the band Immaculate Machine, which has been featured here in April ’09 and May ’07. “Slip Away” is the lead track from her first solo release, Are You My Mother?, coming in August via File Under: Music. MP3 via Spinner.com.