Free and legal MP3: Jonah (reverberant, nicely written indie pop)

On the one hand, a peaceful, reverberant pop song, on the other hand, a rousing sing-along of near anthemic proportions. How do they do it?

Jonah

“Bees” – Jonah

On the one hand, a peaceful, reverberant pop song, on the other hand, a rousing sing-along of near anthemic proportions. How do they do it? I’m guessing it has something to do with being from Portland. It seems they know how to do just about anything out there.

One thing that catches my ear towards the beginning is that double drum beat (0:10) that launches us from the introduction into the first verse. Kind of snaps you to attention, counteracting the “Strawberry Fields”-ish tranquility of the opening measures. The verse features an almost nursery-rhyme-like pattern of overlapping descending lines that are reinforced by a wordless vocal section with a different melody built onto the same simple chord progression as the verse. In the second verse, note how the lyrics scan with gratifying precision—listen, for instance, to how the rhythm of the melody on the phrase “destroy all the evidence” (0:40) aligns with how one would speak those same words. The incisive chorus, in turn, gives us a melody that at once slows down and stretches out (expanding through the entire octave, in fact), which creates that sing-along feeling. And yet after that stirring refrain, listen to how we are left on an unresolved note (1:17)—a sly and effective trick that adds depth and pushes our ear to “require” the next verse. Which of course Jonah is happy to provide.

“Bees” is a song from the album The Wonder and the Thrill, the quartet’s third, set for release next month.

Fingertips Flashback: Avocadoclub (from May 2006)

The internet has come to be home to way more one-hit wonders than AM radio ever was. And, okay, while I guess we actually aren’t talking about “hits,” it’s basically the same idea—there are countless bands who put out one really good song online and then just disappear.

The internet has come to be home to way more one-hit wonders than AM radio ever was. And, okay, while I guess we actually aren’t talking about “hits,” it’s basically the same idea—there are countless bands who put out one really good song online and then just disappear. But at least sometimes, the songs remain, even if the band vanishes. So here we have one cool song from the Berlin duo Avocadoclub; the band’s web site remains stuck in 2006, but the MP3 is still downloadable. Here’s what it sounded like to me four years ago….


Avocadoclub

“Too Much Space to Walk Away” – Avocadoclub

[from “This Week’s Finds,” May 16, 2006]

As smooth, catchy, and vaguely disaffected as an old Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark single. This has all the earmarks of a great floaty synth-pop hit but the really cool thing is they’re not really using a heck of a lot of synthesizers; the acoustic guitars are actually more prominent. Most of the effect, I think, is coming from the layered majesty of Bendrik Muhs’ vocals, and the use of a New Order-style lower-register lead guitar line. Muhs has the ability to sound both pretty and weary, like Ben Gibbard doing a Lou Reed impression; his aching delivery of the sweeping chorus is big-time pop heaven. Avocadoclub is an English-language band from Berlin; there appear to be two guys at the heart of it, but they’ve fleshed out into a five-piece band for the debut CD. “Too Much Space to Walk Away” was the title track on the band’s second EP, released in 2002; it has shown up as well on the debut full-length, entitled Everybody’s Wrong, which was released in March on Firestation Records. Thanks much, yet again, to Getecho for the lead.

ADDENDUM: Can’t seem to find much trace of this band from either before or after 2006. Their MySpace page takes their story up through 2008, but talks of no further releases past Everybody’s Wrong. There is kind of a cool cover of the Pavement song “Newark Wilder” in the media player, however.

Free and legal MP3: Wow & Flutter (endearing, squonky rocker)

Pleasantly crunchy and semi-dissonant, “Scars” opens with a yin-yang-y guitar riff—three parts ringing and harmonic-laced, one part fuzzy and purposeful, as if the band were still deciding what kind of song this was going to be even after they already started recording.

Wow and Flutter

“Scars” – Wow & Flutter

Pleasantly crunchy and semi-dissonant, “Scars” opens with a yin-yang-y guitar riff—three parts ringing and harmonic-laced, one part fuzzy and purposeful, as if the band were still deciding what kind of song this was going to be even after they already started recording. What they ended up with is a deft blend of the opening riff’s two attributes, as a drony, unresolved sensibility courses through a brisk guitar rocker otherwise mixing the offhanded brio of an Exile On Main Street outtake with the squonky quirkiness of the Pixies. Translation: it’s curiously engaging, and it rocks.

And because I haven’t gotten on my “value of experience” soapbox in quite a while, I’ll take this opportunity to point out that Cord Amato has been in front of a band called Wow & Flutter, in one incarnation or another, since 1998. But here we are living through a musical day and age that seems to be about the opposite of letting musicians breath and grow and (dare I suggest it) learn their craft over an extended period of time. No, we’re much too focused here online on being sure to find everything first, and really fast, and then on to the next, even first-er and faster thing.

Tiring it is. I’m really happy to hear musicians who sound like they’ve been around a little while. Wow & Flutter, a trio at this point, will release its seventh album, Equilibrio!, next week on Mt. Fuji Records. MP3 via Mt. Fuji.

Free and legal MP3: Warpaint

Hypnotic fever dream

Warpaint

“Undertow” – Warpaint

Hypnotic and blurry, “Undertow” feels like something of a fever dream, the dual vocals of Emily Kokal and Theresa Wayman floating over a pulse-like beat in a way that feels unmoored and amorphous but is actually tightly controlled. Words glide, circle back, repeat, but without the firm sensation of verses and a chorus. Occasionally the jazz-like guitar sound that served as the intro re-emerges but instrumentally it’s mostly bass and percussion, registering more in your gut than your brain, which accentuates the oceanic flow of the lyrics—once the singing starts it doesn’t really stop. This is a strange song, and I recommend listening to it a number of times because there’s a larger effect going on than its initial four minutes suggests.

I find that the song, for me, turns on the guitar that enters at 2:32—a bright, trebly, Talking Heads-like line, previously unheard, that, it turns out, was set up by the drummer, who kicked into a different groove back at 2:13, only maybe we hadn’t noticed. There’s something in how this new sound is brought into the existing landscape, and how the landscape is subtly but firmly changed, that feels deep and affecting. And then, at around 2:30, we get what we hadn’t gotten until right now, and maybe hadn’t realized was missing: the band playing together, putting its collective sound in front of our ears, the blurry-fevered narrative set aside for the better part of 20 seconds. While some of that returns at 2:50, now I can sense the band waiting, I can sense the weight of something larger looming, and when it comes back (3:27), the song roars to a truly satisfying if still mysterious conclusion.

Warpaint is a quartet from Los Angeles. They self-released an EP last year and caused enough of a stir that the band, on the verge of the release of their debut full-length, is a bit wary of getting churned through the blogosphere. As drummer Stella Mozgawa recently told Spinner: “We’re just dorks. I’d like to be a dork for as long as possible instead of being cool for like, a day.”

The Fool comes out later this month on Rough Trade Records. MP3 via Magnet Magazine.

Free and legal MP3: Darren Hanlon

Fun stuff from speak-singing Australian

Darren Hanlon

“Buy Me Presents” – Darren Hanlon

If you must know why I am terminally suspicious of technological frills (I’m looking at you, Auto-Tune), it’s because of this: the simple, deeply effective pleasure of hearing a musician perform his or her songs without them. And yes, I know it’s a fine line, I know that many seemingly simple songs are built using technology “they” never used to have (whoever “they” were), but I’m talking more about visible versus invisible frills. I’m all for anything that helps us better hear the instruments and voices involved in the song-making, and I’m also, absolutely, all for anything that can be used, effectively, as music, however electronic or “artificially” generated—those are organic in their own way. Faddish processing that pointlessly roboticizes the sound is less good. Way less good.

So here’s Darren Hanlon, about as far from our Auto-Tuned radio music as he can be, and yet, lo and behold, look how fun, look how easy to listen to, look how delightful. I love the homely, chuggy guitar sound, I love Hanlon’s bemused, Billy Bragg-ish speak-singing, I love the unassuming ease of this great chord progression, I love the funny but not jokey lyrics, and I love love love that valorous, unexpected saxophone.

Hanlon is an Australian singer/songwriter who began a solo career in 1999 after previously playing in a number of Aussie bands, including the Lucksmiths and the Simpletons. “Buy Me Presents” is a song from his fourth album, I Will Love You At All, released last month on Yep Roc Records. Note his breakthrough album in Australia, in 2006, had the intriguing title Fingertips and Mountaintops.

Have you heard the Fingertips Top 10 lately?

Checking in on the Fingertips Top 10 is always a good way to stay in touch with the best free and legal downloads being featured here week to week, especially if you have a hard time listening to all the songs as the weeks go by. Songs stay on the list for a maximum of three months, so the list is continually undergoing a slow evolution. The player will let you hear them as a 40-or-so-minute stream, and a very pleasant 40 minutes it is….

Free and legal MP3: Allo Darlin’

Bright smart pop w/ movement and charm

Allo Darlin'

“My Heart is a Drummer” – Allo Darlin’

So we should be clear by now, class, that there is no formula here, no checklist that leads, guaranteed, to a great song. But if I were forced to identify one characteristic that gives a song a leg up, that sends a song soaring skyward rather than plummeting earthward, it might be this: movement. (For those who thought I might say a ukulele, no, but I like how you’re thinking.) A song becomes too easily dreary or dull without a sense of movement; while a song that moves is a song you are more likely to want to hear again, a song that warms and nourishes and reminds you of that all-important, often-overlooked detail: you are alive.

Movement does not have to mean speed. But movement means we do not, as a listener, feel we are stuck, and we do not feel we are waiting very long for something to happen (this is pop music, after all, not a Brahms Symphony). Something, rather, is almost always happening—the melody goes from here to there to there, chords shift and shift and shift again, the band finds its groove without veering into a rut, the singer sounds ever so slightly breathless or edgy or even as if he or she is in some way making the words up on the fly.

Needless to say, “My Heart is a Drummer”—a song that is itself about a certain sort of movement—moves. (That there is no introduction gets us off on the right foot.) The melody leaps and prances and yet also resolves with fluid ease, while the fetching Elizabeth Morris delivers her lines in natural yet idiosyncratic rhythms. The band plays along with such locked-in elasticity you almost don’t notice they’re there; this is one of those songs that sounds less arranged than discovered. But if you get around to it, notice how the guitar plays with great judicious ease—I especially like the high, ringing countermelody it offers beginning with the second verse (around 0:44).

Allo Darlin’ is a half-Australian, half-British quartet based in London (leader Morris one of the Australians). “My Heart is a Drummer” is a song from the band’s self-titled debut album, released in June in the UK, and this week in the US, on the Fortuna Pop label.

Free and legal MP3: Jupe Jupe

Irresistible neo-New Romantic camp

“Add As Friend” – Jupe Jupe

Treading that oh-so-fine line between camp and earnestness, “Add As Friend” is a melodramatic, irresistible slice of neo-New Romantic synth pop, complete with a crooning baritone, goofy synthesizer sounds, and an anthemic dance-floor melody. We know we’re in good hands when the intro builds rapidly from a bell-like synthesizer line through a pulsating (and smile-inducing) middle section into full-fledged melodic glory by 0:28—a simple, beautifully crafted instrumental theme that serves as the ongoing heart of the song. I find a song with a wordless hook difficult to get out of my head.

But make no mistake about the camp here. One giveaway is the overtly humorous synthesizer lines which pop up throughout the song—most noticeably at 0:22, 1:26. 2:44, and 3:12, if you’re keeping score at home. At its heart, camp is a joke—even if, often, a serious joke—so humor is always near the surface. Another is the song’s Erasure-esque vibe, and Erasure was nothing if not the camp champion of the New Romantic movement. But as Erasure themselves proved, a camp act can still create really good music. Jupe Jupe has hereby joined the club.

A foursome from Seattle, Jupe Jupe self-released their debut album, Invaders, this week. That’s where you’ll find “Add As Friend.”

Free and legal MP3: Margot and the Nuclear So and Sos (poignant, world-weary ballad)

Poignant, world-weary ballad from a shape-shifting band that has previously inspired both a cult following and an impressive amount of critical invective. But there’s little not to like here, or, truly, on the rest of their fine new album, Buzzard.

Margot and the Nuclear So and Sos'

“Lunatic, Lunatic, Lunatic” – Margot and the Nuclear So and Sos

Poignant, world-weary ballad from a shape-shifting band that has previously inspired both a cult following and an impressive amount of critical invective. But there’s little not to like here, or, truly, on the rest of their fine new album, Buzzard. From the clarity of the acoustic guitar to the subtle, well-chosen embellishments to front man Richard Edwards’ elusive and compelling voice, “Lunatic Lunatic Lunatic” commands and rewards attention. And don’t miss the song’s revelatory transformation from a sleepy, singer-songwriter-y narrative to a compelling band piece, which begins with the backward-sounding guitar break at 2:23. Compare how Edwards sings the song’s first lyrics, beginning at 0:29, to how he conveys them with the band at 2:56—compare in particular the two different voices he uses for the phrase “all the time.” Same words, same notes, and yet he almost sound like two different singers.

Turns out that “Lunatic, Lunatic, Lunatic” is one of those admirable songs for which the strength of the music and performance deeply invigorates the lyrics. I might not otherwise be engaged by the second-hand exploits of some supposedly crazy, unappealing young woman, but the melody and vibe grab me and cause me to reevaluate what I’m hearing. I stop to consider why the narrator is spending so much time on this grubby tale. Why, in fact, does he insist on calling this girl a lunatic not just once but three times each time? Weaker music would kill the story; here I intuit grand subtext. By the end of the song, listened to a certain way, one might legitimately wonder who the actual crazy person is.

Originally from Indianapolis, now Chicago-based, Margot features not even one person named Margot. Once something of a chamber-pop ensemble, the So and Sos have reoriented their sound—it’s a bit roughed up and guitar-based at this point—while re-populating themselves: there are eight of them listed as current members on their Facebook page, but only three remain from their initial incarnation. (Among the new folks is singer/songwriter Cameron McGill, who himself was featured on Fingertips just around this time last year.)

Buzzard was released on Mariel Recordings last month. MP3 via Filter Magazine.

October Q&A: Eux Autres

The October Q&A chats with Heather Latimer, who with her brother Nick comprises the San Francisco-based duo Eux Autres. Full of authenticity and energy and musical know-how, Eux Autres—pronounce it “ooz oh-tra,” with the “oo” as in “good,” if you would—to me is something of the quintessential 21st-century indie rock band: talented, musically astute, unsung, humble, hard-working. That they are also thoughtful and considerate folks is a bonus, and something you’re likely to pick up by reading Heather’s answers to our continually unanswerable monthly questions.

Eux Autres was featured in September for a wonderful Bruce Springsteen cover they did a couple of years ago, which continues to find fans online, but Heather and Nick’s ties with Fingertips go back to 2005, when they were featured for the charming dead-pan French-language garage rocker “Ecoutez Bien,” from the duo’s 2004 debut Hell Is Eux Autres. May as well note too that “Ecoutez Bien” furthermore ended up on the late great Fingertips compilation CD, Fingertips: Unwebbed, which was available for a limited time in 2007 as a gift for contributors.

The band’s latest album, Broken Bow, comes out next month. They’re offering a new free and legal download from that album, the song “Go Dancing,” over at Bandcamp.



Eux Autres



Q: Let’s cut to the chase: how do you as a musician cope with the apparent fact that not everybody seems to want to pay for digital music? Do you think recorded music is destined to be free, as some of the pundits insist?

A: It’s very difficult. Right now, the music industry is in some sort of limbo. Because if recorded music is destined to be free, then eventually someone’s going to have to figure out how to subsidize its creation. Recording music is incredibly expensive, both in effort and actual money. There’s been some democratization of recording with more accessible home equipment, but most of the bands you care about aren’t making records for free in their basements. So when no one wants to pay for songs, it dramatically inhibits artists’ ability to continue making music. And even with the bigger bands—if no one’s buying, then the advances and recording budgets are obviously going to go away. Eventually, there’s got be some sort of major adjustment in the equation, one one side or the other.

Our band tries to cope with the current music economy by taking the long view, taking a deep breath and trying to focus on what we want to bring into the world—regardless of whether it’s valued in the monetary sense. We trust that it has a cultural value beyond what is reflected in our iTunes checks. And we spend a lot of time thinking about the whole package, not just the MP3 as heard in a vacuum. It pushes us to pay more attention to the cohesion of everything—the artwork, the themes—and to try to make beautiful and interesting actual physical objects. But then again, we’re sort of extreme. We think that making crest-shaped lapel pins is an awesome use of our merch budget.



Q: Related question: there’s a lot of talk these days that says that music in the near future will exist in the so-called “cloud”—that is, on large computer networks—and that music fans, even if paying, will not need to “own” the music they like any longer, since they will be able to simply listen to everything on demand when they want to. How do you feel about this lack of ownership? Do you see anything really good or really bad in the idea?

A: It’s an interesting idea. On one hand, it seems sort of like having a musical harem. You’re certain you’ll get laid one way or another—you don’t have to commit to or support anyone in particular, there’s always that pack waiting for you. I think it’s unfortunate, because historically listeners have gotten so much out of being committed to bands, following them through triumphs and missteps and weird phases, and deciding when to break up with them—really having to figure out if you can stomach Black Flag’s My War or if they’d just gone too far.

But then again, the cloud model also seems progressive, a kind of artistic socialism. Maybe tons of artists under the same umbrella or system can share the “wealth” and help each other stay afloat.


Q: How has your life as a musician been affected—or not—by the existence of music blogs?

A: I think our musical lives have been affected a lot by blogs. So many more people know about Eux Autres than would have in the analog model. And luckily, so far, the blogosphere has been very, very supportive. Since we’re not some juggernaut, no one has gone out of his or her way to take us down. It seems if people don’t like us, then they don’t write about us. Of course, there’s a downside of blogs. I miss just walking down to the record store in Omaha and grabbing a mysterious 7″ and having no preconceptions about what I was about to listen to. It was just the cryptic artwork and the music. And I was totally free to develop my own reaction in the privacy of my own home.


Q: What are your thoughts about the album as a musical entity— does it still strike you as a legitimate means of expression? If listeners are cherry-picking and shuffling rather than listening all the way through, how does that affect you as a musician?

A: I absolutely believe in the album. A good album is like a well thought-out meal. It has stages, and each stage deepens the experience, rather than just moving along the surface. That said, the album didn’t really exist before the late ’60s, and I don’t think it’s the only way to do it. There are a lot of bad albums in the pop world because people are building around one or two singles. I really wouldn’t mind if it went back to a singles-dominated game, and people only felt the need to make albums when they were really inspired to do so.


Q: What is your personal preferred way of listening to music at this point? Describe the circumstances (are you in an otherwise quiet room? in a car?), the technology (laptop? iPod?), how you choose what to listen to (random shuffle? full albums?), and anything else of relevance to your listening habits.

A:: It’s funny, I’ve gotten so much less flexible about listening to music. It’s really hard for me to do anything else if music I care about is playing. My friends get annoyed because I can’t even converse; I’ll be in a coffee shop and Elliott Smith’s “Speed Trials” comes on and I totally forget where I am. My ideal situation is a quiet room, for sure. And I still very much like to listen to albums. I like surrendering to the duration of it. I really try not to skip past songs—it seems like cheating.