May Mixtape

Highlighting the songs I've discovered, rediscovered, or repeatedly played each month. The order reflects an attempt to create a cohesive mixtape, not to rank the songs in any way.

1. Daft Punk feat. Panda Bear - "Doin' It Right."  After a month of listens, I'm still unsure if Daft Punk's newest album is as great as everyone makes it out to be.  I definitely don't think Random Access Memories matches the brilliance of Discovery; there's no "One More Time" or "Digital Love" on here, not even an "Aerodynamic."  There are, however, some true standouts, especially the sensual "The Game of Love" and the funky, endlessly catchy "Get Lucky," which is rightfully claiming its spot as the 2013's go-to summer anthem.  But the first song I heard after "Get Lucky" was "Doin' It Right," whose gargled, robotic vocals immediately had me hooked--even as I struggled to register the unlikely pairing of Panda Bear and Daft Punk.  The combo does work, though, producing tremendous results, as PB's breezy vocals float over the track's looped noise and tiptoeing keys.  The chorus is brilliant and timeless, and probably speaks to the transcendent experience of DP's live show: "If you lose your way tonight that's how you know the magic's right." Yet the song is also tinged with sadness, as the robot occasionally sputters "You're not doing it right," perhaps critiquing the current state of EDM or, even, lamenting music's inability to consistently conjure the "right" magic for its listeners.

2. James Blake - "I Am Sold." I was so excited for James Blake's new album, and I feel like my expectations were half-met: "Retrograde" is Overgrown's centerpiece and one of JB's best songs to date, "Overgrown" begins the album with a powerful slow-burner, and "I Am Sold" has the most wonderfully sinister bass line Blake's produced yet.  But man, is "Take A Fall for Me" horrible, or what?  I don't know how Blake allowed such a cheesy song on his album, or why the album slumbers on the second half, but it's a shame to see him experiment so successfully and disastrously on the same album.  Talk about risk/reward.  I do keep returning to "I Am Sold" for its fragile vocals, hazy, smokey-room atmosphere, and that amazing bass line, though.  Hopefully Blake will select tracks more wisely on his third album.

3. The Menzingers - "Burn After Writing."  I have this very untested theory about pop-punk and emo: while emo bands often exaggerate drama and exploit their fan's fragile emotions, pop-punk bands are more direct and sincere.  Pop-punk is also not as whiny and narcissistic as emo generally is, even though pop-punk's lead-singers often sound like pre-pubescent boys.  The Menzingers certainly don't sound like that (the vocals are deeper), but everything else (the multiple guitars, speedy drums, bouncy chorus) epitomizes pop-punk.  And you know what?  It's a great genre.  It brings me back to the happy times of my adolescence and still sounds fresh enough that I want to make new memories to it.  Thanks for the recommendation, Nick Parco.

4. Bright Eyes - "Beginner's Mind."  I was  skeptical of any new Conor Oberst material after some very insipid side-projects (Mystic Valley Band, Monsters of Folk) and the alarmingly uneven Cassadaga, so The People's Key came as a wonderful surprise.  I think "Beginner's Mind" is my favorite track from the album because Oberst sounds so damn interested, unlike some of his detached narratives from Cassadaga ([don't] see the god-awful "Classic Cars," whose title should be enough evidence of Oberst's indifference).  It's been awhile since Oberst has sounded this sincere and has sung with such urgency, and the result is a more mature--or less whiny--version of Oberst's Fevers and Mirrors material, when he would gasp through each note as if it would be his last.  Here he pleads to a "beginner's mind" to remain innocent and not conform to "all those tangled hypocrites," which may be Oberst revisiting his past mistakes as he returns to his former singing style.  Maybe.  But anyway, this song is one of Oberst's most contagious (and that's saying something); I hear it once and then need to listen to it for a few weeks until it finally leaves my mind.

5. Vampire Weekend - "Ya Hey."  I did not love Modern Vampires of the City when I first heard it, and I think that's the point: VW's third album challenges its listeners by defamiliarizing conventional pop structures, offering, for instance, squirrelish vocals in place of the chorus on "Ya Hey."  I had no idea what to do with this song when I first heard it; sure, it starts off brilliantly, with Koenig's clear vocals echoing over a lightly foggy backdrop, but that chorus seemed like a buzzkill, interrupting the flow of an otherwise crisp and catchy song.  And the spoken interlude seemed like a deliberate attempt to withhold the song's most gratifying elements: the funky bass, ghostly chants, and Koenig's perfect delivery.  Yet the gratifying elements kept me returning, and eventually the things I didn't like became strangely addicting.  Maybe this is the way to keep ephemeral pop fresh and interesting, as the song ages for the listener with time?  I'm not sure.  I am sure, however, that I'm reluctant to play this song in front of friends because they might 1) not like it and 2) ask questions that I really can't answer: "What the hell is this squirrel doing?"  "Why is the singer talking?"  So I'll enjoy this one by myself, searching for answers while also enjoying the unexpected pleasures of this hunt.

6. The National - "Fireproof."  Woah, this was a treat.  I was first struck by this song during one of my commutes from a rainy Lincoln Center; as I was exiting my subway station, I felt immediately taken in by Matt Berninger's haunting vocals and that heavily ominous bassoon, which drops like an earthquake when Berninger sings "you're fireproof." The finger plucking guitar recalls the pianos from Boxer's "Abel," but the dark mood of this song--heightened by an allusion to Elliott Smith's devastating "Needle in the Hay"--raises comparisons to "Mistaken for Strangers" and "Afraid of Everyone."  Only here the drums are subdued, tempered like the passions of the mysteriously "fireproof" subject.

7. The National - "Sea of Love."  Bryan Devendorf's brilliant drumming is more prominent on "Sea of Love," possibly my favorite song from this excellent album.  (What a great month for music!)  I first heard "Sea" when I watched its charming video, which interestingly captures both the intensity and claustrophobia of the National's music.  Yet "Sea of Love" is, as its title suggests, free-roaming, an expansive anthem that reminds us, especially when juxtaposed with "Fireproof," of the incredible emotional range of this incredibly emotional band.

Halfway through 2013-- best songs thus far

One song per artist, starting with my favorite and working down in somewhat of an order.   I'll post May's mixtape once I make substantial progress on this final paper...

February Mixtape

Highlighting the songs I've discovered, rediscovered, or repeatedly played each month. The order reflects an attempt to create a cohesive mixtape, not to rank the songs in any way.

This is unfortunately half-assed because there are too many songs this month and, surprise, surprise, I'm overloaded with work.

1. Elliott Smith - "Between the Bars."   For some reason, I always imagined prison bars when Elliott sings "I'll kiss you again / between the bars," but I recently discovered the more obvious image of the song: drunken kissing while walking from bar(/tavern) to bar.  Yet, unsurprising for an Elliott song, there are several layers to this line, like the musical pun: a kiss between the bars of the music.  Elliott's music is often about himself, and I suppose all three of these images (self-entrapment, like the awesome Arcade Fire song; alcohol-induced romance; and singing/songwriting) can be read self-referentially. I also forgot how wonderful this song is, how Elliott can sound both angelic and damned at the same time.

October Mixtape

Highlighting the songs I've discovered, rediscovered, or repeatedly played each month. The order reflects an attempt to create a cohesive mixtape, not to rank the songs in any way. 

Sun Airway at Hammerstein Ballroom, Oct. 3.

1. Sun Airway - "Close." These guys absolutely rocked as openers for the all-around awesome M83 show.  I remember thinking that their instrumental jams remind me of the smooth dream pop of DIIV, but the vocals, which resemble Vampire Weekend's Ezra Koenig, are much more pronounced (or audible, you pick).  Now when I hear the pulsating drums and the winding electric guitars that jab against the twinkling keys and spacey atmospherics on "Close," I hesitate to draw comparisons; Sun Airway's music can stand on its own, and the band's impressive performance proved it.

2. The Cure - "Just Like Heaven."  I promised myself to listen to more Robert Smith after falling in "love" (har har har) with his cover of the Crystal Castles song from last month, and luckily for me this sunny pop gem happened to be on the Adventureland soundtrack (which isn't as good as the movie but still has its awesome moments).  On "Just Like Heaven," The Cure offer a gorgeous arrangement of strings, synths, guitars, and pianos, which makes the track so instantly likable.  The vocals find Smith emoting, some might say he borderlines squealing, over a girl, but I think it works: he's broadcasting his vulnerabilities through written and spoken words.

September Mixtape

Highlighting the songs I've discovered, rediscovered, or repeatedly played each month. The order reflects an attempt to create a cohesive mixtape, not to rank the songs in any way. 

In one month, Spotify has opened my eyes to so much new music, especially recent work from artists I've enjoyed in the past but recently neglected.  So let's get to it:

September Mix from kevstevxx on 8tracks Radio.

1. Passion Pit - "I'll Be Alright."  Another devastating song whose title could end up being the ironic epitaph of troubled lead singer Michael Angelakos.  Like almost all of PP's music, though, this bubbly pop track is catchy and enduring.

2. Crystal Castles feat. Robert Smith (of The Cure) - "Not in Love."  I always liked the original of this song because of the waves of synths that kick in during the chorus.  But it felt understated (as does the large majority of Crystal Castles's electronica) because of Alice Glass's murmured vocals.  Smith's addition totally reinvigorates "Not in Love," transforming the pessimistic line "I'm not in love" into a triumphant anthem.  I've listened to this song over and over again; it's so catchy, builds up gradually, and has a huge payoff at the chorus.  I need check out The Cure now.

Crystal Castles (left) with Robert Smith.

3.  Passion Pit - "Mirrored Sea."  The ghostly yet zany synths that open this song are perfect.  It's such a unique, evocative sound that somehow blends seamlessly into the frenetic keys on the verse.  These discrete parts then intersect at the chorus, and it somehow works.  Sonically, this may be as dark as PP is going to get, but it's impressive new ground to tread, and it importantly balances out the sugary, "gossamer" sounds on this sophomore album with something weightier, more brooding.