Showing posts with label Wavves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Wavves. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

June 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. Wavves - "Post-Acid." I really like Wavves' second album, but there are some moments where he needed to drop the Animal Collective impression and embrace a punkier aesthetic.  He does that brilliantly on "Post-Acid," a raucous anthem that demands headbanging, steering-wheel-drumming, and sing/shoutalongs. (I'm guilty of all three.)  Unlike the vulnerable "Beat Me Up" (see song #2), Williams sounds cold and even cruelly calloused here, as he confesses, "I'm just having fun with you."  But while Williams doesn't sound like the ideal friend (see here for evidence) or lover, he also refuses to sugarcoat or wallow in his flaws.  I find that commendable.  When evaluating Wavves, and also Kanye (see below), moral and aesthetic judgments do not necessarily hold equal weight, and I think it's a testament to the power of art when we, as listeners, suspend or reconsider our values.

2. Wavves -  "Beat Me Up."  Woah, the chorus on this.  It's like grunge visits the beach -- Seattle meets SoCal.  The handclaps recall early Beach Boys but the drawling, echoey vocals and fuzzy guitars are much more rooted in 90s alternative rocks.  Surprisingly, Wavves blends these seemingly disparate genres in one up-tempo, self-deprecating summer jam.  Lyrically, it's simplistic, sincere, and morbidly funny: "Do you really think I easily bruise? / Or do you have a smoke that I could borrow? / I just wanna spend some time with you... / Or you could beat me up." For such a short song, "Beat Me Up" surprisingly hasn't lost it's staying power after a month of nonstop listens.  I feel confident labeling it one of the best songs of 2013.

3. Wavves - "Green Eyes."  The summer of Wavves continues!  I have distinct memories with each of these songs: I played "Post-Acid" while driving to and from Topps' diner, screaming "I'm juuuust having fun... with you-ou-ou-ooouuu"; "Beat Me Up" repeatedly on a vomit-filled NJ transit bus, eagerly awaiting my arrival to Corey/Ryan/James/Tori's house; and "Green Eyes" while driving to Annie's, navigating through traffic on 95 (what a surprise).  On "Green Eyes," Williams layers on the self-deprecation: "I try running away / I'm just not fast enough"; "My own friends hate me"; "I try staying awake / I'm just not man enough"; and "I would try and understand / That I'm to blame / 'Cause I'm so lame."  Despite all this, though, he never lets his miseries detract from the summery instrumentals.  With layers of guitars, catchy percussion, and xylophones, I guess it's hard to wallow -- much easier to sing along, shouting your own failures with Williams, or just being happy knowing you're in a much better place.

4. The Menzingers - "Mexican Guitars."  I gotta say, when I started listening to the Menzingers, I did not expect heartbreaking, beautiful, nostalgic poetry.  I was happy just to find a band that could pull off a more mature version of pop-punk than the stuff I listened to 8-9 years ago.  But wow, this song is stunning.  The singer (I'm unsure of his name) recollects his memories with an "old friend," from their drinking on porch steps to learning songs on Mexican guitars.  We never learn what ruined this relationship, but even as the singer describes leaving town "to wander around the world for a little bit," he cannot escape "the memory in the back of [his] head": "I'm on cruise control and the radio was on / Yeah, they were playing that song / That we both learned on our Mexican guitars . . . / You were my old friend." The song devastatingly ends the way it begins, only changing the indefinite article "you were an old friend" to the more intimate possessive pronoun "you were my old friend."  As the song comes full-circle lyrically, we're reminded that there is no transcendence here, only a heightened feeling of despair and loss punctuated by mournful guitars and throat-shredding vocals.


5. Deafheaven - "Dream House."  I don't ever really listen to metal, but I was lucky enough to find this on Spin's top 40 songs of 2013.  I used the playlist as jogging music, but found it mostly filled with sucky rap and hip-hop.  Just when I was about to write it off for good, a surge of shoegazey guitars flooded my headphones; finally, I thought, something to run to!  But I was quickly in awe when the curdling black metal vocals and relentlessly heavy drums emerged.  I've never heard anything so colorful and textured yet also so incredibly heavy and frigid.  And the song kept going and going: sunny guitars glimmering and rising to explosive levels while icy vocals angrily crackle.   Six minutes in, the song finally seemed to come to a close, but it was only the band manipulating loud/soft dynamics -- insisting that metal does not need to be incessantly heavy to be effective.  The song re-emerged with a blistering crescendo, as winding guitars seared through fuzzy feedback and drums escalated in a slow but commanding breakdown.  I'm still completely fascinated and inspired by this unbelievable hybrid of a song, and I'm glad to see it's getting the hype it deserves.

6. The Drums - "Days."  Sorry to the Drums, but they're totally the outlier on this mix.  Their Real Estate-sque brand of chimey guitars and breezy vocals were a nice addition to my summer commutes/workouts, but they don't gel with the rest of these songs.  Oh well.  I think that the band sounds like a sunnier version of the XX's nocturnal melodies, though their lyrics are actually much bleaker: "Days go by, and I never needed you."

7. Kanye West - "Hold My Liquor."  In stark contrast to the visceral, minimalistic diatribes that open Kanye's Yeezus, "Hold My Liquor" begins subdued and introspectively, with an auto-tuned Bon Iver somberly gurgling "I can hold my liquor."  This just gets things started on what proves to be a volatile and ornately crafted song.  Keys begin to tap quietly over cloudy ambient noise, as an autotuned Chief Keef admits, after inhaling what sounds like weed, "I can't handle no liquor."  Then Kanye emerges, rapping with conviction over two beats: one brake-screeching and the other effervescent electronics.  Despite his seriousness, he still finds room for comedy--"Slightly scratched your Corolla / Okay, I smashed your Corolla"-- though overall the subject matter is digressive [the lyrics overall on this album are often more provocative than profound].  The architecture of this song, however, is absolutely stunning, totally unlike anything I've ever heard before on a rap album (though that genre now seems too restrictive for what Kanye's creating here). For instance, after Kanye's long verse, he interpolates some robotic vocal on the bridge, which blends with Justin Vernon's auto-tuned falsetto and baritone.  This incredibly moody moment lasts only for a few seconds, as we're brought to Chief Keef's heavier hook again, which seems to direct us towards the climax -- only instead the volume completely fades.  Next on this musical rollercoaster, Bon Iver again delivers an emotionally potent mix of auto-tuned falsetto and baritone with nearly no instrumental accompaniment.  This finally leads to the song's purely instrumental climax, featuring layers of synths and guitars that sound more fitting on Pink Floyd's Animals or Wish You Were Here than on a rap album, no matter how experimental.  And exhale!  "Hold My Liquor" is such a genre-bender of a song, and Kanye makes it seem so effortless. [Note to Kanye: you need to create an LP with Bon Iver. Every song you've released with him thus far has been phenomenal ("Monster," "Lost in the World," "Hold My Liquor," "I'm In It").]

8. Kanye West - "Blood on the Leaves."  When I saw Yeezus was streaming, I decided to give it my undivided attention.  So I went in my room, put on headphones, and laid on my bed listening. [Note to self: please do this more often; this is how you learned to love music; why'd you stop?]  I was a little afraid of the album after opener "On Sight," which basks in its hideousness, but became more and more enamored as I soared through songs like "New Slaves" and "Hold My Liquor."  But "Blood on the Leaves" left me completely stunned.  When that massive, brassy beat finally drops, a smile ran across my face.  I couldn't take it off.  In fact, I'm still in awe of this.  Kanye sounds absolutely incensed, tearing through the fourth verse with furious conviction.  And the sample of Nina Simone's "Strange Fruit" is stunning.  I don't think Kanye for a second equates his relationship issues with the lynchings of slaves, but I do think  Kanye feels like a "new slave" to materialism ("single black female / addicted to retail," he sung years ago on "All Falls Down"), women, drugs, and corporate execs.  He also certainly enjoys the provocation of the sample.  There's so much more to say about this, but I'll save it for another time.  I think it easily cracks the top 3 songs of the year.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

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...

Sunday, May 19, 2013

April 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. The Decemberists - "Don't Carry It All."  I love The Crane Wife, but I thought The Hazards of Love was kind of blah -- too epic, too bloated.  I love this quote from Colin Meloy about the critical reception of Hazards:
"It's like the girlfriend that you bring to your family and they all say that they really like her, but then when you break up with her, and they're like, "Oh God, I hated her the whole time. You're so much better off.  Even I'm starting to believe it, like, 'I guess The Hazards of Love did kind of suck, didn't it?'" 
Meloy says Hazards is still his favorite Decemberists' record, but it left me not wanting to check out the group's newest work until recently, when I took up Norah's advice (thanks, Norah!) and finally gave The King Is Dead a spin.  It couldn't have started any better: "Don't Carry It All" is the loosest I've ever heard the Decemberists on record, freed from the conceptual strictures of Hazards. No longer "carrying" that burden, the Decemberists meld their catchy, summery folk with the bouncy percussion, layers of instrumentation, and palpable energy of Arcade Fire's "Wake Up."  The result is one of the group's best songs in years.

2. Phoenix - "Drakkar Noir."  Ah, Phoenix.   I don't know what to do with you.  I've played songs from this album an astounding 128 times (according to my last.fm), yet I'm still struggling to formulate an opinion.  My initial responses were lukewarm: I thought, and still think, "Entertainment" is a bombastic and surprisingly safe opener, a louder and less subtle version of the band's catchiest singles; "Bankrupt!" sounds way too similar to Animal Collective's "My Girls" when it meanders for three or four minutes; and "Oblique City" is all noise--huge synths and dissonant drums--but little substance.  Yet many of the other songs are growing on me, like "S.O.S. in Bel Air" and "The Real Thing."  "Drakkar Noir," though, was the first song that really caught my attention, with its bouncing synth, massively catchy chorus, and no-bullshit introduction.  Mars's vocals sound as pristine as always, and he particularly shines on the chorus when he sadly confesses, "I'm just too glad to say 'no.'" The song speaks to a notoriously dissolute person ("Light a cigarette for two / You're too close to get to / How come everyone knows you before they meet you?"), yet Mars's radio-friendly voice and "Drakkar's" dance-worthy tempo mask the song's gloomy lyrics.  But for the careful listener, these contradicting sounds and emotions make the climax so powerful, as the swelling synths, amplified guitars, and splattering drums simultaneously produce happiness and discomfort, since Mars's despair seems to rise with the volume of the euphonic instruments.  The listener ultimately finds solace during the track's final seconds, as piano keys flutter through the climactic noise, ending an unsettling pop song calmly and reassuringly.  These brief notes prove how Phoenix thrives on subtle nuances, not massive noises.  I just wish the band cleaned up more of the clutter before releasing Bankrupt!

                       

3. Phoenix - "Chloroform."  The transition between "Drakkar Noir" and "Chloroform" is the best moment on the album and will probably be some of the best seconds of music this year.  The synths of "Drakkar" sputter and then loop until fuzzy keys abruptly burst, introducing "Chloroform's" slow dubstep beat and brassy keys. Try not to move along to this; go ahead, I dare you.  It's a really beautiful, even sensual, moment that I wish could linger longer, especially when Mars interrupts with a ridiculous line like, "Anyway, you want the truth is / I will marry you on Tuesdays."  Yuck.  Similar to "Drakkar," the lyrics are bleak and unsettling, but here the band wisely chooses not to conceal its anxieties under layers of poppy sounds.

4. Daft Punk - "Digital Love."  Damn, can diplomats play "Digital Love" to warring leaders?  Maybe there'd be hope.  This song injects happiness into a room, and it helped me get through a long month of lonely grading.  Discovery begins with such an unbelievable trio of songs that it's almost unfair to any other techno/EDM group: the incomparable "One More Time" bleeds into the frenetic, otherworldly instrumentals of "Aerodynamic," which then fade into the mesmerizing ambiance of "Digital
Love."  I love the robotic vocals here, and the horns are a perfect touch to an electronic-based album.  And then there's the oh-my-God vocal moment of "why won't you play the gaAaAAAaaame?"  It's a subtle yet addictive climax that could've made the ensuing robotic guitar solo seem superfluous, but the song is so damn fun that I'd welcome anything to keep it going.  As DP themselves sing:
"It looked like everyone was having fun
The kind of feeling I've waited so long
Don't stop, come a little closer
As we jam, the reason gets stronger
There's nothing wrong with just a little, little fun;
We were dancing all night long."
Can they please tour now?

5. Minus the Bear - "Lies and Eyes."  I used to think Minus the Bear was one of the best bands I've ever heard.  I don't think this anymore, but it's encouraging to hear these guys still pulling off a song as catchy, bold, and technical as "Lies and Eyes."  I've always enjoyed Jack Snider's rather monotonous vocals, but there's no doubt they're limiting, especially live.  But here they really work, especially at the end of each verse, where he sings in iambs.  This captures so much of what I love about indie rock: it's pop-oriented and catchy, but there's also an immediately perceptible earnestness to it.  I love a song that can strike me as something serious right away yet still have the loose and infectious qualities that make me want to keep returning to it.


6. The Big Pink - "Velvet."  This might be the sexiest song I've ever heard.  Sensual, passionate, chilling; it'll raise the hairs on your arms if you listen closely enough.  The instruments are beautifully layered to sound rich and all-enveloping, and right from the beginning TBP's offer a diverse combination of atmospheric vocals, fuzzy guitars, and sprawling percussion that almost sounds like a computer gargling.  These disparate elements make for a unique opening where the dissonant percussion struggles to protrude the hazey layers of euphonic guitars.  Then more fuzzy guitars wash over the sounds, building to the second verse, until the song crescendos in a long climax of screeching distortion and warm, enveloping feedback.  When the guitars pause, it's like a long exhale, but then a single trickling guitar initiates more waves of noise.  The song is a totally immersing experience that culls the best effects from its instruments: the reverberating vocals beckon for a sing-along while the shoegazey guitars elicit brooding introspection.  When combined,  listeners feel like they're screaming heartfelt words from their souls, though the lyrics are so wonderfully composed that they might as well be:
"These arms are mine
Don't matter who they hold.
So should I maybe just leave love alone?
You call out my name, for the love you need,
Which you won't find in me."
Ugh, this album is so criminally underrated.  I don't know why TBP embraced hip-hop more on their sophomore album after displaying such skill in creating rich textures.  This is one of my all-time listened to songs, and it shows no signs of losing its effects.

7. Wavves - "Demon to Lean On." Although the guitars vaguely recall Weezer's "Pork and Beans," Wavves's "Demon to Lean On" is catchier, not lazy, and actually sounds like it's motivated by something other than a cheap laugh or quick check.  You can definitely hear the Nirvana influences here, but there's also a serious surfer-y, West Coast feel that adds a new take on the grungy punk aesthetic.  Along with Bankrupt!, Wavves's Afraid of Heights has been on repeat for much of this month, mixing just the right amount of melody with futility.

8. Cloud Nothings - "Understand at All."  Before Cloud Nothings embraced screaming, they made some outstanding pop-punk songs.  "Understand" might be their best: a supremely catchy, fast-paced, loud, and lo-fi jam.  You can hear how this band already gestures towards what will be their greatest song to date, "Stay Useless." But "Understand" can also stand on its own for its complexity, turning a depressing realization--"I don't understand at all"--into a fun and frenetic anthem.  Like Phoenix, CN can masterfully conceal sadness under a poppy veneer.

9. Cloud Nothings - "Forget You All the Time."  Yet Cloud Nothings's self-titled is not all jittery pop-punk; "Forget" is a song worth getting bummed out to, and the melancholy guitar immediately drags the listener into despair.  But the song is more cathartic than wallowing: its music is contagious, not the misery that inspired it.

10. We Were Promised Jetpacks - "Circles and Squares."  I found these guys on Spotify's radio service, and they're loud and fun and great driving music.  "Circles" floods the listener with massive guitars and builds to a dramatic climax, where Adam Thompson's vocals melodically bounce off the walls of electronic noise.  I had the ending's melody stuck in my head for days and couldn't figure out where it came from.  Once I did, I began listening to these guys regularly.


11. We Were Promised Jetpacks - "Quiet Little Voices."  In my attempt to listen to WWPJ more often, I discovered this incredibly catchy rock song.  It's not super complicated--its chorus combines loud/soft dynamics and punky "oh oh oh"s--but it kept me awake and animated during several traffic-ridden drives home from Moshe's seemingly never-ending (but unbelievably amazing) theory course.  That's gotta count for something, right?