Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Megafaun offer another peak at new album with "Get Right"
Megafaun - Get Right by All Around Sound Blog
Megafaun's latest eponymous album is due out September 20th. Pre-orders are available here.
Andrew Belle - "The Ladder" video
The video, directed by Emily Wormley, finds a cartoon Belle embarking on a grand expedition after a troublesome fox that steals one of his magic keys. There's globetrotting adventures across sea, desert, and even outer space before Belle is able to reclaim the key from the thieving fox. It's an excellent pairing of music and animation and while not a literal rendering of the song's lyrics, still rather well. There's even a reference to Belle's previous video for "Static Waves" with the appearance of song lyrics as actual objects in the video.
Watch the video for "The Ladder":
Monday, September 5, 2011
Laura Marling debuts new song on WNYC
The new song, still untitled, proves that Marling isn't done mining tales of good women doing bad things. She could probably create a whole other album on the subject. But where Marling's women have admitted their shortcoming and feelings of guilt before, the figure in her new song seems to be completely besides herself on how to be good, resigning herself to the advice and prayers of her lover.
It's the most fragile, Marling's allowed herself to be. And all the more better because of it. Enjoy the new untilted track from the prodigious Marling:
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Laura Marling - A Creature I Don't Know (2011)
After the release of such a masterful album like I Speak Because I Can I expected a rather lengthy break from British songstress Laura Marling. And yet she quickly offered up a new batch of songs all connected by the rather dark emotions that were merely hinted at on I Speak Because I Can.
"The Muse" with its jazzy piano accompaniment and engaging semi-anecdotal style sets A Creature I Don't Know to be an entirely different animal than its predecessor. With its bluesy swagger and heavy piano chords, Marling wastes no time in introducing the thematic Beast.
"Don't Ask Me Why" and dramatic foil "Salinas" function as question and answer. In "Salinas" no one seems to ask why things are the way they are and Marling’s questions are unanswered while "Don't Ask Me Why" asserts that you don't really want to know the answers.
“Night After Night”, the album’s main emotional key piece, does a much better job of illustrating the album’s major theme than “The Beast”, eloquently summed up in the lyrics “Oh, I should just leave you instead of deceive you/But I don’t”.
“The Beast” serves as Marling’s first candid reference to lust (veiled allusions to it being in “The Muse” and “Sophia”). Dressed up with abrasive electric guitar riffs, the purpose of "The Beast" seems to serve as major plot point. In its narrative, the narrator means to invoke Sophia (Goddess of Wisdom) but is sidled with an uncontrollably beast whom she cannot seem to overcome. Marling’s advice is merely to look away.
Despite its kids-pop title, “My Friends” is about much more: The one true moment of apology on the album or rather of openly displayed guilt, “My Friends” is a mysterious and confusing tangle of characters and situations. Quickly asserting that she would leave “you” for them, it’s not quite clear who she intends to leave for the other: her friends or her lovers or the reason for the guilt.
With the album’s various references to mothers and motherhood, “Rest in the Bed” is the first track to put it in context of Marling’s age. A mother’s song to her unborn baby, the mother grants the use of her body under the promise that the baby will keep her warm and good. An odd mix of selfishness that’s kind of touchingly sweet.
Laura Marling’s knack for witty one-liners reaches a whole new level on “Sophia”: transforming simple actions into dramatic statements. In “Sophia”, the album’s hints of rage come bubbling to the surface in a startling display of denouncement. A refined denouncement tinged with kerosene-and-a-burning-match fury.
Leading perfectly into “All My Rage”, a truly joyous moment on a fairly dark album, where the narrator sets aside all her anger and fury despite a rather impressive set of offenses. But in her celebration, the narrator reveals a darker part of her character: “Stole my children, left my son/Of all of them he’s the only one/ Who didn't that mean that much to me” and ponders if it’s all a cosmic joke before accepting it for what it is. Marling’s narrator doesn’t make any promises to be better though. She merely decides to set her anger aside regarding her unfortunate circumstances. And so while jovial and triumphant, you’re left to wonder.
Whereas I Speak Because I Can was grounded and artfully mundane, A Creature I Don't Know calls upon angels, devils, goddesses, and other beings of mythic proportions for Marling's introspective character studies. While it's not clear how much of Marling's songs are inspired by her real life, her songs, with their careful handling of symbolism and metaphor, are brilliantly novel-esque and yet completely relateable. Marling's women aren't as completely blameless as they appeared on I Speak Because I Can. In a lot of ways A Creature I Don't Know is about balance. Sure there's the obvious balance between good and the darker parts of human nature but Marling also balances her women stupendously. They aren't overemotional or irrational, they aren't saints, but they also aren't weak. It says a lot about Marling's songwriting prowess that she can create these three-dimensional characters that even while admitting their failings and vices, never come off as excessively feminine or tragically weak. While I originally had doubts about how good the album would be (based pretty much wholly on Marling's ability to create as brilliantly conceptualized an album as I Speak Because I Can), I see now that those doubts were unnecessary. Marling's superior lyricism and musicianship has guaranteed an album worthy of praise.
You can now stream Laura Marling's third album before it's September 13th release(if you're in the US or Canada) on the NY Times website here.
The Drums - Portamento (2011)
After the departure of guitarist Adam Kessler, The Drums didn't really see themselves recording a new album and yet that's exactly what happened. Inspired by feelings of disappointment and betrayal, the band wrote "What You Were" and the rest is history.
On Portamento, The Drums employ a heart on your sleeve approach that certainly ups the ante from their kinda-sad-but-still-kind-of-fun self-titled debut. And yet the band sticks to its strengths: a surf pop band first and foremost, the trademark beach-y jangle is always there in some form or another even as the band adds in synthesizers and samples. Even with these rather foreign elements, the band integrates them into their trademark style rather than a complete overhaul.
Even with its graduation to more mature themes, Portamento still contains a similar if not congruent form of poppy goodness that The Drums are known for. Failure, heartbreak, and lust are but a few of the themes explored on the album but aren't handled as deftly as they could be. When Portamento really shines is those moments where the composition doesn't take a backseat to the songwriting. The band is certainly skilled and it's nice to see that every once in awhile like "Money" and "I Need a Doctor". Proving that they can write songs with substance, The Drums' next challenge is to balance substance with delivery.
The album is now streaming in its entirely (albeit not in proper track order) at the New York Times website. Give it a listen here.
Portamento is out September 6th in the US.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
BOBBY - BOBBY (2011)
Slap the label psychedelic or experimental onto a band and I’ll admit I get incredibly suspicious. It doesn’t matter how many times such suspicions are refuted; it’s a sort of knee jerk reaction from hearing a lot of crap. So the first couple times I’ve seen Vermont music collective BOBBY referred as such turned me off to them. And then I chanced upon a 7 minute live video of the band performing “It’s Dead Outside” on NPR, shrugged my shoulders, and watched the whole thing. Then I grabbed the album. The thing that really appeals to me about BOBBY is that it’s remarkably listenable. The way the band handles their rather gargantuan cast of players and almost equally large track lengths is nothing short of astounding. Minimalistic sprawling soundscapes and dreamy otherworldly vocals are the formula they stick to and yet each song remains fresh and vivid with exciting musical sounds. Perhaps it’s because their experimentation doesn’t have that everything-and-the-kitchen-sink or random-things-that-sound-cool vibe, instead their decisions come off as balance of intelligently methodical and richly organic. There’s no excess on BOBBY, each track coming to complete development in the time it is allotted. At no time does a song appear to be dragging or do you wish it had gone on longer; each track reaches its full potential and then gives way to another well-crafted creation. It’s an album that plays like a dream: the tone consistent throughout linking each song where its sounds and lyrics may not. So for all those who might be scared off by labels like I am occasionally, another definition might be necessary. BOBBY creates masterful pieces that artfully weave together elements of folk with synthesizers and other electronics while also maintaining a sort of sparse, untouched melodic truth. If you haven’t listened to it yet, give their self-titled debut a listen, it is no doubt bound to be an enriching experience.
Get a taste for BOBBY with the same video that introduced me to them featuring "It's Dead Outside":
Friday, September 2, 2011
Daniel Hart - The Orientalist (2011)
This post was inevitable – only a matter of time, really. When St. Vincent played Central Park Summerstage, a hundred or so eyes were transfixed on the petite fashionista rocking out on the guitar and cooing sweetly over dark arrangements. Mine were on violinist/multi-instrumentalist Daniel Hart; my own affinity for string instruments wholly to blame. So of course when I found out he had a solo project, I was all over it. When not touring with St. Vincent or John Vanderslice, he could be found leading the ranks of The Physics of Meaning but earlier this year Daniel Hart released his first album, The Orientalist, under his own name.
Inspired by Hart’s travels and adventures in India, it’s clear from the rather groovy string-centric intro of “Van Gogh Sher Gil” that you’re about to hear something truly special. What Hart offers is a completely three-dimensional album – in stripped down acoustic ballad “Happy Together”, in noisy rhythmic “I Took the Western Rail to Ahmedabad”, or instrumental intros “Pink Walls Gather No Dust” and “Elizabeth Russell”. For being first and foremost a violinist, Hart finds a wonderful balance between strings and everything else. The Orientalist is not without its elegant string arrangements but Hart isn’t afraid to pair them up with bombastic electronics and gritty guitar riffs all the while never decreasing their beauty.
While Hart was no doubt inspired by his time in India, The Orientalist with its slick pop sensibilities proves that such experiences can no doubt be universal. You don’t have to cross an ocean or take foreign public transportation to connect with Hart’s songs. Aside from the intro to “God of Small Things”, the Indian influence is merely hinted at in song titles and offhand references. In doing this, Hart has avoided the pitfall of perceived hokey-ness.
You can listen to the whole album at Daniel Hart's Bandcamp:
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