AWESOME AUTUMN #1: GBV & SY

GUIDED BY VOICES: UNDER THE BUSHES, UNDER THE STARS (Matador, 1996)
SONIC YOUTH: BAD MOON RISING (Homestead, 1985)




Once the temperature starts dropping and the leaves start turning, I can never get enough of Guided By Voices; particularly their ninth album, Under the Bushes, Under the Stars. This has been a mainstay of essential autumn listening since I was sixteen. Nearly every time I listen, I am brought back to the car rides up to my aunt and uncle's house to go apple picking.
This is by far my favorite GBV album. As it is the first one I ever purchased and listened to, I may be biased. Biases aside, it has definitely withstood the test of time.

The second album in this installment leans a lot more to the dark side of the season. While GBV's UTBUTS paints the picture of the colorful, warm, aromatic, and romantic side of autumn, Sonic Youth's Bad Moon Rising represents the gray, dismal, dark, cold and lonely parts.
The opening arpeggios of the album let me envision nothing less than leaves falling to the ground against a gray sky. From there on in it becomes darker and darker. The realization that winter is coming, that it's only going to get colder, that everything is dying are all here. The presence of Halloween is also very apparent; emphasized both by the cover art and the bonus track, "Hallowe'en".

There is no doubt that my interpretation and the connections that I make(here and elsewhere are heavily influenced by my New England upbringing. The autumn is a strange and magical time for myself and many others. This is but a taste of some of the music that I feel captures this essence.
More to come.

Links:
"pass the word, the chicks are back"

"I love her all the time"

ATLAS SOUND: LOGOS (KRANKY, 2009)

When unfinished demos of Logos leaked in 2008, Bradford Cox almost abandoned the whole project. I, for one, am grateful he decided not to, as this is quickly becoming my favorite album of 2009 - and it hasn't even been properly released yet.

All of Cox's established trademarks are here - layered, sometimes muffled vocals that can border on ghostly; pop that is both heartbreaking and uplifting at the same time; gorgeous soundscapes that make me feel like I am dreaming underwater - but Logos is a much more developed work than 2008's Let The Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel. He's not just experimenting anymore; he's using everything he's got to really write songs now, and they are graceful, nuanced, and more often than not, stunning. The collaborations with Noah Lennox of Animal Collective and Laetitia Sadier of Stereolab don't hurt, either.

To Download (Via Mediafire):

Atlas Sound: Logos (2009)

LO-FI LEAKS: NO AGE AND VIVIAN GIRLS

No Age: Losing Feeling EP (Sub Pop, to be released October 2009)


Vivian Girls: Everything Goes Wrong (In The Red, to be released September 2009)

NICE FACE: CAN I FUCK IT? (JERKWAVE TAPES, 2008)

Another gem that was brought to my attention by Kylie. And before you even think it, I know, I know, every loser in Brooklyn with GarageBand thinks they can become the next big thing by recording stuff in their bedrooms and putting out cassettes, but the self-proclaimed "bedroom punk wizard" Nice Face actually delivers. I burned this to a CD for my car, and every time I decide to run a few errands I feel like I'm wading into some kind of surf zombie warzone. Rules.

To Download (Via MediaFire):

Nice Face: Can I Fuck It? (2008)

LIARS: DRUM'S NOT DEAD (MUTE, 2006)

As the title might suggest, Drum's Not Dead features quite a bit of percussion; sometimes it's tribal, sometimes it's marching band, and sometimes it's nothing but a nervous clattering of sticks, but it's always there and it's clearly both the backbone and the star of this album. It has been vaguely explained by the band that Drum's Not Dead is a concept album about two characters named Drum and Mt. Heart Attack, but to me, it's a story about Liars' love affair with percussion.

Liars perfectly marry their extensive drum work on Drum's Not Dead with atmospheric washes of guitar and quite a bit of frontman Angus Andrew's falsetto. At times, Liars lull us into near-trances (The Wrong Coat for you, Mt. Heart Attack and Drum Gets a Glimpse) and at others, seem to be menacingly crescendoing towards something evil (Let's Not Wrestle Mt. Heart Attack and Drum and the Uncomfortable Can). Drum and the Uncomfortable Can is the clear triumph here, with the dark, scary pairing of double drumming and slow guitar reverb, along with Andrew giving tips on how to get rid of a dead body.

Every time I listen to this album, I quickly and easily slip into it, as if it were a world Liars created.

To Download (Via MediaFire):

Liars: Drum's Not Dead (2006)

MAGAZINE - BACK TO NATURE: BOSTON '79 (CENTRIFUGAL 12CENT-10C, 1979)

"I'm not stupid and I refuse to pretend to be," Howard Devoto explained to the NME in 1977, as to why he left the Buzzcocks. It probably seemed to be a pretentious declaration from an asshole at the time, but listening to what Devoto went on to create with Magazine, it's clear that he was meant for more than just punk: Devoto's lyrics are highly literate, and his delivery is so idiosyncratic and so nuanced that I'd be hard-pressed to compare him to any other vocalist.

"This is a...simple...request. A song called 'Give Me Everything'," Devoto tells the audience on this out of print live album. Few people could pull off that line (only Devoto's friend and fan Morrissey comes to mind right now), but Devoto completely owns it. "We love you, Howard," audience members scream in a kind of response later in the set, to which Devoto simply says, "Oh, shut your traps."

Although Devoto's strange, enigmatic persona can sometimes make me forget it, Magazine is not all about him; it is the music that elevates what Devoto does and makes it work. The guitar playing of John McGeoch (who later played for Siouxsie and the Banshees) is especially notable: dramatic, experimental, and sadly underrated.

When I first got my hands on this album, I played it so loud that a glass on my desk got shaken to the edge, fell off, and broke.

To Download (via MediaFire):

Magazine - Back To Nature: Boston '79.

HUM : YOU'D PREFER AN ASTRONAUT (RCA, 1995)

It was the summer of '95. I had just finished 8th grade. Grunge was on its way out. Kurt Cobain was long dead. The Foo Fighters first album was released. I was addicted to alternative rock radio; 95.5 WBRU.

There was this great song I'd occasionally hear; "She thinks she missed the train to Mars, she's out back counting stars."

After the first listen, I was hooked. I'd keep the dial at 95.5 all the time in hopes to hear it again. The plays were few and far between; the bigger problem being that I never caught it at a time when the DJ implemented the "Whey you play it, SAY IT!" rule. I'd lay awake at night in fear that this mysterious song would disappear from the playlists before I learned the artist or the name.

Around my birthday, my aunt, uncle, and cousins were visiting from Oregon. As a sort of early birthday present, my uncle brought my cousin Anna and I to the Hard Rock Cafe in Boston. Through out the long ride there (my uncle always insisted on the scenic route) the radio dial was locked on WBCN. As we were approaching the city, I heard the opening chords of my song. I expressed my excitement and love for the song to my less enthusiastic uncle and cousin; but the real treat came at the end of the song, when the DJ told us "That was Hum, with 'Stars'". I was ecstatic.

We made a stop at Tower Records on Newbury St. before the Hard Rock. Naturally, the first thing I looked for was a CD by a band called Hum. It didn't take long to find. Green cover, zebra, "You'd Prefer An Astronaut?" weird title.

"What's that?" my cousin asked when she saw me walking around with it.

I explained, and she remembered the song. She took it from me and brought it to my uncle, telling him that he had to buy it for her. She said that she liked the song from the radio; but I knew she only wanted it because of the zebra on the cover. He agreed to buy it, and in turn told me that I could pick something out for myself, it being close to my birthday and all.

Shit.

What a predicament. The one CD that I wanted the most, was the one that my cousin was having purchased for her. It would have been completely foolish to get the same one. I had to settle for Bjork's latest, "Post".

Naturally, I made a cassette copy of the CD when we got home, only to find out after it was much too late that the tape had miraculously recorded only one of the two stereo channels (the only time in my life that this had ever happened). I listened nonetheless though, and I liked it... a lot. It was unlike anything I'd ever heard before.

There was still that whole "loud-contrasting-with-not-so-loud" thing going on that was quite popular at the time; but there was more than just that. The lyrics were more poetic than what I had been previously exposed to. Sadness had never been this anthemic.

The next summer when my family came to visit, I made sure that my cousin brought the CD with her so that I could make a proper copy (keep in mind that this was back in the days that you had to save up your allowance if you wanted to listen to something) and she did. The tape stayed in heavy rotation through out my high school years, and was a staple in my car once I started driving, even though none of my friends seemed to like it all that much.
It wasn't until my second year at UML (2001-2002) that I surprisingly stumbled across fellow Hum fans. Coincidentally, I would sing in a band that year that would be compared to Hum. I could never hear where that comparison came from. Maybe I was just too modest.

I found her out back sitting naked looking up and looking dead

THE JESUS AND MARY CHAIN : AUTOMATIC (Blanco y Negro, 1989)

Early fall 2005 and I'm driving down 6th street during the day. This song comes on FNX's Leftover Lunch and I've heard it before. I almost sing along as it's all on the tip of my tongue but not close enough. It bothers me, and it stays with me.

"Can't stand up! I can't cool down! I can't get my head off this ground!"

A few weeks later I'm at work at Brew'd and I'm looking through Andy's CDs; there's "Automatic" and I know somehow that it's the one. Of course I'm correct; I listen to it all day.

Later at night, I pick you up from Ill Salt and I'm jonesing. As you connect your iPod I ask, "You got any Jesus And Mary Chain?"

"No," you say. And laugh.

some things are so hard to say even though you'd say them everyday

THE GUN CLUB: FIRE OF LOVE (RUBY, 1981)

I was going to make a post about some shoegaze bands I've been listening to lately, but I decided to go more along the lines of Dan's last post.

I attribute my entire musical development to two people: my aunt Susan and my cousin Chris (Susan is Chris' aunt as well, not his mother). Susan tells a lot of stories about me dancing around her kitchen as a baby to David Bowie and Depeche Mode records, and whenever we have family get-togethers at her house we force everyone to listen to shit like the Smiths.

I didn't have tons of contact with my cousin Chris when I was a lot younger, as he is almost 20 years older than me, but for some reason we started hanging out a lot right before I entered high school. In seventh and eighth grade I started listening to stuff like the Sex Pistols, sort of groping around in the dark, trying to learn about music. When this became clear to Chris, who has a pretty encyclopedic knowledge of music, he burned me a big stack of CDs. This specific stack of CDs has greatly informed what I've listened to in the past 7 years and what I continue to listen to. Included were Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds' Kicking Against The Pricks, New York Dolls' New York Dolls, Alice Cooper's Love It To Death, Joy Division's Unknown Pleasures, Kraftwerk's The Man Machine, and The Gun Club's Fire Of Love. Now, I could talk ad nauseam about any of those records but it has come to my attention recently that a number of people I know have never heard Fire Of Love.

When I first heard this record, I thought, "What the fuck is this?" Frontman Jeffrey Lee Pierce speaks, sings, and wails with questionable skill but it doesn't matter; when he says things like, "Gonna buy me a gun just as long as my arm and kill everyone who ever done me harm," over messy blues-punk guitar, I totally believe it. Every raw, aggressive moment seems to suggest something dark, something evil.

I can see where this album fits within the 1980's LA punk scene, and many bands (eg, the White Stripes) have since cited it as a serious influence, but I don't necessarily associate it with any of that in my head; there is definitely something singular about this record that makes it special. To me, there isn't really anything else like it.

To download (via MediaFire):

The Gun Club: Fire Of Love (1981) (Link Fixed: 5 March 2009)

BLANK DOGS: ON TWO SIDES (TROUBLEMAN UNLIMITED/FUCK IT TAPES, 2008), THE FIELDS (WOODSIST, 2008)

On Saturday night, I threw a couple of cans of Sparks in my purse, made sure I looked adequately homeless, and headed downtown to go to the WAVVES/WOODS/BLANK DOGS/NODZZZ show, organized by the infamous Todd P and taking place at the LESS ARTISTS MORE CONDOS loft space. My companion and I had a false start, what with the long-suffering doorman telling us, "It's sold out," but after we stood around on the sidewalk for about ten minutes, moodily smoking cigarettes, Todd P himself came out and asked us if we had been waiting to get in to the show upstairs. Our answer was "Yes," and his reply was, "Come up, come up!" I guess we looked cool enough.

The New York Times (!!!) has already written a lame/hilarious review of the show focusing on Wavves, and FADER has already written a brutal/sarcastic review of the NYT review here, so I'm going to skip Wavves and instead focus on the important thing, and that important thing is BLANK DOGS.

I was standing in the back behind some extraordinarily tall guys, which I usually do not mind at all, but I craned my neck a bit to get a few glimpses of the band, and I'm glad I did: the air in the space was sticky-hot and close, but the frontman was almost completely covered. He had a black hoodie on, and you better believe the hood was up over his head. My companion filled me in: Blank Dogs is actually just frontman Mike Sniper making music in his bedroom and employing a band in order to recreate this music live. He is apparently terrified of letting people see him: one of the covers of his releases features him completely swathed in bandages, another under a sheet. Okay, Mike Sniper, I'm intrigued.

My personal predilection for cripplingly shy, (probable) never-nudes aside, Blank Dogs sounded great. The negative things people seem to be saying about them/him around the internet are pluses for me: melodies are buried under tons of distortion, lyrics are nonsensical, it's pretty serious, it sounds like the Cure sometimes, Mike Sniper is scary, etc. Sometimes it is abrasive, sometimes it is catchy as hell, sometimes it is really fucking weird, more often than not, it is all of the above. I cannot stop listening to it. "Maybe (it's because) we are pussies?" FADER said, in response to not "getting" Blank Dogs. Sorry FADER, but I think you might be right.

To download (via MediaFire):

On Two Sides (2008)
The Fields (2008)