On July 8th, Beck, the self-proclaimed Enchanting Wizard of Rhythm, will grace us with another outer space-based, genre-hopping album. The Danger Mouse mixed Modern Guilt is poised, from what I can glean from the leaks, to be an album somewhere in the vein of a Guero-The Information hybrid, but really, who can say with Beck? It could be anything–but it will certainly be worth looking into.
But moving on! My pick of the day comes from the new album in honor of my undying love of all things Beck. He starts shooting ‘Gamma Rays‘ at the listeners’ ears in the form of a baseline that makes you move hammering along with Beck’s catchy but seemingly random lyrics (his forte) over ethereal background vocals. While the album collectively leans more towards The Information, so I’ve heard, this track wouldn’t be out of place at all if added to Guero, as it has a similar sound and subject matter. I have trouble hearing lyrics without seeing them, but I have a feeling this is a feel-good, surf-y ode to the destruction of our world–complete with melting icecaps, fires, heatwaves and hurricanes. This is the destruction for which we are all to blame as a global community. I may not be able to predict Beck’s genre-defying sound yet, but I think I have an idea of what issues we can expect the Wizard to melodically explore on this album; Modern Guilt, indeed. Thank you for the uplifting sentiments as usual, Mr. Hansen.
Take a listen:
You can listen to three other tracks off of Modern Guilt at iLike (http://www.ilike.com/artist/Beck/songs), including the single ‘Chem Trails.’ Remember to pick up the new album when it drops on the 8th–this is very important, as I will not be able to get my hands on it until July 18th-ish and thus must rush to get it vicariously through all of you. It will be a long, sad wait on my part.
Sufjan Stevens once said, “Sometimes I worry that the ever-increasing trend toward excessive innovation has pushed the art and music world into a slapstick exhibition of dog breeding, generating increasingly newer, more contemporary fashions: gothic folk, for one. Or Afro-beat Ivy League pop.” He has a point. It seems the indie music scene is becoming increasingly cluttered with those striving to out-bizarre each other in the name of alternative innovation. As a hipster extraordinaire, I know it can be easy to give in to peer pressure and search for the most god awful, obscure band you can find just so you can claim that you are the only one who understands true, progressive, modern art in musical form. So let’s take a time-out from being pretentious–or at least from being excessively pretentious–and discuss honest indie pop rock without any trace of pretense.
Kinematics. What is a branch of dynamics which describes the motion of objects without consideration of the circumstances leading to the motion? Incorrect! Thank you for playing. The correct answer was: What is pure, simple indie pop rock at its best? This Australian quartet crafts beautifully simple, yet complex, smartly arranged pieces. The first song I heard of theirs was ‘The East Seventies.’ It caught my attention, but I thought little of the band. As with many indie unknowns, I figured this was the one song that really came together from their catalog clogged full of messy, fuzz-boxed, whispery-vocaled compositions with banal lyrics. But I liked this one song so much that I contemplated making it a Hipsters Don’t Lie pick. In searching for an MP3 version of it, I came across the rest of their musical repertoire. I was instantly hooked. Every song was like the pinnacle of indie pop perfection that bands achieve usually, if at all, just once.
So what is my pick? I don’t know. I couldn’t pick just one. In all honesty, any Kinematic song you stumble upon, listen to it. It’s worth it. But I’ll pick one. Uh. Since ‘1964‘ is on YouTube, it is my pick for today:
Their sound is so classic–vintage, almost–yet it simultaneously sounds fresh, new and original. And still it sounds so familiar. I’m in awe that Kinematic isn’t more of a hipster household name. My other highly recommended tracks include, ‘Championship Vinyl,’ ‘Oregon,’ ‘Ponderosa,’ and the gorgeously evocative acoustic tune ‘Are You Leaving?‘ which borders on something undeniably Beatles-esque. But seriously, just listen to anything you can find.
A few nights ago, I received an instant message from a very good friend of mine. She forced me to listen to Broken Social Scene for the first time. Now, while I had heard whispers about this band before, I was too lazy to investigate them. However, as soon as the music video was playing on my Mac, I was hooked like a hooker is to sex.
I didn’t expect them to be anything out of the ordinary, but I was proved wrong. The band has catchy songs and delicious topics. They’re not your ordinary indie band, no, they are far better. The massive group of them (really, I would get sick of being around that many people on a tour. It would be beyond annoying. I give them props.) preform very well together to produce the exquisite tunes. They’re music varies from a female singer to a male, acoustic guitar to electric and really has a wide range. Their albums You Forgot in People and Feel Good Lost are two of my personal favorites and since I downloaded them, I haven’t been able to stop listening to them. “I’m Still your Fag” is my alarm clock song that I wake up to every morning. This post has been poor and late but if it has helped you find a small flicker of love for them deep in your ironic hearts, listen to them.
More of their music can be found on their myspace or their purevolume. Enjoy and happy listening!
By the way, I am terribly sorry, Paul. I seemed to get a bit distracted by concerts and coffee shops.
Everyone knows that hipsters like obscure bands. Everyone also knows that hipsters like sweaters. Thusly, my pick of the day is “Claw Your Sweater” from some indie pop-rock darlings of San Fransisco, Love is Chemicals. Don’t know them? Good. The more obscure, the better the band. True fact. But you should know them–and you should know this song. It’s reminiscent of old school Death Cab (we’re talking The Photo Album-era Death Cab, not Plans-era, you corporate puppets) with its jangly guitar and contains just a dash of Built to Spill and a pinch of Beulah. Nate Grover’s elusively familiar vocals spin an honest tale of hipster love atop the infectiously poppy, yet authentic, guitar hooks. As I’m especially partial to anything pertaining to sweaters, I think the chorus is delicious: “I know better than to claw your sweater with my crooked fingers how they creep you out.” I would never expect that line to embed itself in my mind, but it has. I would let them claw my sweater any day. All in all, a catchy tune by a band that should be bigger than it is–although I must warn you, one listen to this will make you more nostalgic for the good old 90’s indie scene than your old high school pictures and favorite Sonic Youth vinyl.
Also, make sure you check out the rest of their stuff and their newest CD, Song of Summer Youth Brigade, so you can condescendingly tell all your friends that you liked Love is Chemicals before they did.
Everyone’s doing covers these days. Most of the time I cringe visibly, sometimes at the forced, imitated inflections of voice, sometimes at the lack of originality, sometimes at the overexertion of artistic license, but often because I will never again be able to listen to a song I once enjoyed without a terrible rip-off of it echoing in the back of my mind. A copy of the I’m Not There soundtrack recently made its way into my hands, begging a listen or two, although I am usually wary of Dylan covers. I liked it well enough, generally; it had its gems and its duds for me–but that’s not important, although I always find my own musical opinion important. The point is, it made me think about covers–and Bob Dylan covers specifically. And for the love of Bob, I felt the need to discuss my favorite Dylan covers with all of you.
#4. Lay Lady Lay – Magnet & Gemma Hayes
Although it’s something I would likely do, don’t discount this cover because it appears on the Mr. and Mrs. Smith soundtrack. It’s good. Naturally, it’s more produced than Dylan’s version, featuring strings and horns and whatnot, but it’s not totally dissimilar (or beyond recognition like uh.. Ministry’s version of this song, for instance). Magnet’s take on it was original enough to be memorable, though, turning it into a sultry duet, rather than one man’s attempted smooth operating in order to peel some panties. As beautifully as Dylan can pull that off, this version’s worth a listen. You can find it and some other nice little Norwegian Magnet tunes at his myspace.
#3. Ring Them Bells – Sufjan Stevens
I’m hesitant to say too much about this one because the song pretty much speaks for itself. It’s one of those absolutely delightfully whimsical track you’d expect from Sufjan Stevens. Tempo changes, sweet harmonies, a wide range of instruments, dynamics, dramatics, etc.–all the hallmarks of Sufjan. He made “Ring Them Bells” his own, but not in the way that makes me die on the inside while listening to it. Give it a listen at the I’m Not There Soundtrack myspace.
#2. Simple Twist of Fate – Jeff Tweedy
This song is one of the covers to appear on I’m Not There. I was less worried about Jeff Tweedy’s take on the song (I like both him and Wilco very much) and more worried about any cover of this song in general, it being my favorite song on Blood On the Tracks and all. However, I should have had more faith in Tweedy; his rendition of this song makes it difficult for me to place it at #2, as it would be worthy of #1, if not for the fact that I’m thoroughly enamored with #1 and have been long enough for it to reach 367 plays on iTunes. Tweedy not only does the song justice, but, if I may be so bold as to suggest such a thing, makes an even more poignant and beautiful version than Dylan. Excuse me for my heresy. Vocally, he does mimic Dylan somewhat, but he brings a different sort of tone to the song. He also replaces the harmonica, which (excuse the heresy again) I always found nice but a little out of place in this song, for violin. I believe you can only find this version on the I’m Not There soundtrack, but you can listen to it, along with three of my other favorites from the soundtrack, online here.
#1. Oh Sister – Andrew Bird
I will say this confidently without apologizing for the heresy: this version simply outdoes Dylan’s. Those who know me know my undying love for Chicago-based multi-instrumentalist and whistler extraordinaire Andrew Bird–and hear of it far too often, I’m sure. I love his voice and his whistling and his violin playing and all of them are beautifully on display here, complemented by the lovely harmonies of Nora O’Connor, whose voice may have been made just for singing with Bird. To put it into terms that all you math nerds out there can understand, this song comes seriously close to that elusive asymptote of musical perfection. It also features one of the most beautiful instrumental sections I’ve ever heard starting around 3 minutes and 40 seconds in. It’s the best of Bob and Bird and it’s brilliant. I command you to listen to it immediately at Andrew Bird’s myspace or on the new Soldier On EP; then I command you go out and get your hands on Andrew Bird’s entire catalogue, because he’s just that mind-blowingly incredible.
Feel free to leave your favorite Dylan covers in the comments; I’m always open to musical suggestions–but make sure they’re good, otherwise I will judge you.
There is one hit that keeps returning to radio stations around the globe since it came out in 2006. A month of it on the radio was enough, thank you. Actually, it would have been much nicer if it never existed, since this song is a misdemeanor and continues to be played on every “hip” radio station which focus on R&B and other hit songs. This godawful song is “Lips of an Angel” by Hinder. For those who have not had the pleasure of listening to this horrendous track, let me explain the overall meaning of the song. But first, the music video.
The greasy, black haired frontman is upset in this video. He has a blonde in his bed, oh but he wants the brunette, so he calls her up. Unfortunately for him, he can’t have both. Oh, the agony! He tries to charm her, but fails because, well, look at him. If a guy was singing a horribly produced song about how my lips were like an angel’s to me over the phone, I would turn him down too. He is feeling very down about himself because he can’t get what he wants, and I just feel so bad for him. Their oh-so-hip rock melodies drift through our radios and make the listeners cringe and change the station.
My question is this: If the sound of this song, the call this man is making for a woman with “Lips of an Angel,” is aggravating everyone, then why does it continue to be played on radio stations around the country? We have a duty to stop this song from playing anymore.
Do we really want these men to continue plaguing our music venues, our MTV shows, and our radio stations? The answer is no. We want fresh, good, good looking artists to appear in venues and our radio stations. Hearing these men preform is not something pleasant and seeing them in general is not something to remember. The front man has a coy attitude which is clear in the above picture. He knows the distress he is causing the music scene, you can see it in his stance. “Lips of an Angel” has played too long. This must be ended. It was annoying enough when it first came out two years ago, and it should have ended there. There is no need to force it down our throats now. It is not a hit anymore, so why are we being forced to listen to it?
The music scene really needs to take these things into account. Annihilate the music that plagues us. It’s the only way.
Scene one. Curtain up: Paul lounges on her used futon after a long, hard day of being condescending to strangers. Kicking up her feet and relaxing, she flips on her 12-inch vintage B&W television to watch The Tyra Show (strictly for the irony, of course). Enter Commercial Break. Paul turns the volume down, zones out and mumbles bitterly about consumerism and brainwashing while flipping through her second-hand copy of Alternative Press. Suddenly, her ears perk like a gazelle in the savanna, faintly sensing a predator off in the distance. Her senses become acute. Her eyes dart around the room before stopping to fixate themselves relentlessly upon the television. She jumps off the couch into a crouch and approaches cautiously. As she grows nearer, the faint disturbance she sensed grows clearer–nasal and vaguely off-key whining, poppy faux-punk guitar strumming. Her eyes grow wide in horror and she emits a scream that shakes the soul (or lack thereof) of every hipster in Williamsburg. This is what she saw:
My first thoughts were, “Is this some kind of joke? Who hired these aging hipster-wannabes to pose as a band!? Is it like some hokey, failed attempt at those IO Digital Cable commercials?” (At least the Digital Cable commercial had pirates.) But seriously. What’s with the red haired guy with the emo comb over? Was he supposed to be like that Panic! At the Disco kid, except old and with thinning hair? And who paid Wilson from House to stop eating, get a bad haircut, dress up like Green Day and lip sync to some inane jingle on a commercial? Okay, okay. So I concede that commercial jingles are sometimes tolerable–like the Free Credit Report one with the car guy.. or the singing pirates. Clearly, to pull off song commercials, you must feature pirates two-thirds of the time. This commercial just failed hard. But the most distressing realization of all was, “Wait! These guys are a legitimate band?!”
Yes. Yes, they are. Early Edison. I found them. I found their myspace. On said myspace, they declare:
Yeah, that’s us from the 1-800-OK-Cable ad… This is our third spot… we hope we brought a little sunshine and daisies into your life… that’s why we exist, that’s why we get paid the big bucks.
Seriously? Third spot?! You can’t list your subgenres as “Rock / Powerpop / Indie” and then brag about whoring yourselves out to 1-800-OK-Cable. Serious loss of indie cred. How does one live with oneself after composing, not one, not two, but three jingles about cable? I’ve managed to dig up one other, which, in my conceited opinion, is even more grating than the one currently on TV.
But alright, lots of great bands have been in commercials (albeit, not singing contrived powerpop homages to cable companies). Andrew Bird contributed instrumentals to Marriott. The One AM Radio is in a Pontiac commercial. The Walkmen provided some tunes for the Saturn Ion. So maybe these Early Edison guys could redeem themselves. Maybe if I gave their music a chance, I could forgive them for their nauseating cheesing at the camera, their wretched lyrics about Triple Play and their faux-hip style. Maybe. But, alas, after listening to one Fountains of Wayne / Green Day lovechild after the other, I just couldn’t find it within me to absolve them of their sins. Sorry, Early Edison.
I’ve seen the commercial just about over 9,000 times now, and every time I see it, I cannot maintain my usual coldly apathetic demeanor. I am overcome with haughty hipster rage–and I just needed to get it out. So thanks for tuning in to today’s edition of Rage Against the Mainstream. I hope you’ll join me again next time. Until then, don’t be a cog in the machine of society.
An Angle. A band with every intention to be as moving as the one and only Conor Oberst. However, they take a different turn with their music, but only slightly. Since We Can Breathe Under Alcohol is the band’s best album, not that I’ve heard their most recent one, we’ll stick with the old. An Angle has vivid words to express how much they “hate the indie music scene,” while they are pretty much as indie and hipster as one can get. Observe the above album cover. Take in the antique merry-go-round horse, cardboard signs, colored boxes, the scruff one of their faces, and the strong lull of alcohol. Look at the lead singer as he peers over the “CAN” sign uncertainly and a bit apathetically. This is indie, through and through.
While their songs are filled with alcoholism, the battle with it, one song in particular stands out. While Kris Anaya sings with his band, he harmonizes at times and in ways that directly mimic Bright Eyes. Now, their entire sound isn’t like Bright Eyes, so you Bright Eyes haters need not to fret. They have wonderful metaphors in their songs. However, one bothers me greatly. The song is entitled, “Whales Walk, Whales Talk.” Now, while it is a good song about alcoholism and it is slightly pleasant to listen to, there is hardly any mention to whales as the title leads us to believe. I was expecting a wonderful extended metaphor followed by fine alliteration, but there was one little line, “Like whales we call out in high noise and so we stand in the middle of the road and suddenly it’s all clear to me the world is growing empty.”
This is lame. Un-hipster, and lame. However, I felt alright as I was flipping through the booklet the album comes with. For the page intended to represent the song, there were two people wearing cardboard made whale costumes, one blue, one pink. This was slightly more reassuring. And this brings me to my last point. It’s so obvious how much you “hate the indie music scene” Kris especially with indie seeping from your ironic pores.
I do give this album a few stars however. It’s nice acoustic guitar melodies and pianos are a nice combination and you can listen to part of their new album on www.myspace.com/ananglemusic and listen to Whales Walk, Whales Talk on Project Playlist and where ever you find MP3s.
Today’s pick comes from My Morning Jacket’s new album Evil Urges, which is set to drop on June 10th.
The unexpectedly funky, Prince-esque Highly Suspicious, rife with kick drum beats, riffs and falsetto, could make any indie kid want to throw an impromptu dance party/rave in his or her living room–which is saying something significant. No idea if the song itself is saying anything significant; I can’t understand what Jim James is singing (do I hear something about peanut butter pudding surprises? Uhh.. possibly?)–just know that he sounds cool singing whatever it is. Think Beck’s Midnite Vultures meets Stevie Ray Vaughan (Or “some kind of metal musical starring Michael Jackson,” as a good hipster friend of mine put it), then listen to it here:
In their upcoming release, the Kentucky-based alternative rockers will pick up where they left off on ‘Z’, continuing their evolution towards a more eclectic mix of genres. While it’s a bit more experimental than what we might expect from My Morning Jacket, the new album has a little something for everyone, from the country-tinged rock single I’m Amazedfor the older fans, to riff-heavy tunes like Remnants and Aluminum Park for fans of MMJ in the One Big Holidayvein, to more low-key, atmospheric numbers like Touch Me I’m Going to Scream and the uncharacteristically narrative Librarian. Like its predecessor, Evil Urges is an all around must-have album.
Yours was the first blog interface that we saw, WordPress.
We think we were blind before we met you.
And yet, here we are, blogosphere. We apologize for our delay in beginning our deliciously superior posts, but it seems we were held up donating our parents’ trust fund money at a recent Obama rally. We love his platforms. I mean, we’re totally into telling our friends how deck being green is–sure, we don’t recycle or reduce our carbon footprints by turning our Macs off or anything, but nothing shouts irony like riding down the street on a bicycle with a reusable tote filled with sustainable and locally grown organic goodies. And we find nothing more ironically stimulating to our cynical souls than all his talk of hopes, dreams and aspirations.
Hipsters Ironically for Obama ‘08.
Anyway–our bloggings should begin shortly.
We are overconfident that you will enjoy them.
On July 8th, Beck, the self-proclaimed Enchanting Wizard of Rhythm, will grace us with another outer space-based, genre-hopping album. The Danger Mouse mixed Modern Guilt is poised, from what I can glean from the leaks, to be an album somewhere in the vein of a Guero-The Information hybrid, but really, who can say with Beck? It could be anything–but it will certainly be worth looking into.
Everyone knows that hipsters like obscure bands. Everyone also knows that hipsters like sweaters. Thusly, my pick of the day is “Claw Your Sweater” from some indie pop-rock darlings of San Fransisco, Love is Chemicals. Don’t know them? Good. The more obscure, the better the band. True fact. But you should know them–and you should know this song. It’s reminiscent of old school Death Cab (we’re talking The Photo Album-era Death Cab, not Plans-era, you corporate puppets) with its jangly guitar and contains just a dash of Built to Spill and a pinch of Beulah. Nate Grover’s elusively familiar vocals spin an honest tale of hipster love atop the infectiously poppy, yet authentic, guitar hooks. As I’m especially partial to anything pertaining to sweaters, I think the chorus is delicious: “I know better than to claw your sweater with my crooked fingers how they creep you out.” I would never expect that line to embed itself in my mind, but it has. I would let them claw my sweater any day. All in all, a catchy tune by a band that should be bigger than it is–although I must warn you, one listen to this will make you more nostalgic for the good old 90’s indie scene than your old high school pictures and favorite Sonic Youth vinyl.
Although it’s something I would likely do, don’t discount this cover because it appears on the Mr. and Mrs. Smith soundtrack. It’s good. Naturally, it’s more produced than Dylan’s version, featuring strings and horns and whatnot, but it’s not totally dissimilar (or beyond recognition like uh.. Ministry’s version of this song, for instance). Magnet’s take on it was original enough to be memorable, though, turning it into a sultry duet, rather than one man’s attempted smooth operating in order to peel some panties. As beautifully as Dylan can pull that off, this version’s worth a listen. You can find it and some other nice little Norwegian Magnet tunes at his 
I’m hesitant to say too much about this one because the song pretty much speaks for itself. It’s one of those absolutely delightfully whimsical track you’d expect from Sufjan Stevens. Tempo changes, sweet harmonies, a wide range of instruments, dynamics, dramatics, etc.–all the hallmarks of Sufjan. He made “Ring Them Bells” his own, but not in the way that makes me die on the inside while listening to it. Give it a listen at the I’m Not There Soundtrack 
This song is one of the covers to appear on I’m Not There. I was less worried about Jeff Tweedy’s take on the song (I like both him and Wilco very much) and more worried about any cover of this song in general, it being my favorite song on Blood On the Tracks and all. However, I should have had more faith in Tweedy; his rendition of this song makes it difficult for me to place it at #2, as it would be worthy of #1, if not for the fact that I’m thoroughly enamored with #1 and have been long enough for it to reach 367 plays on iTunes. Tweedy not only does the song justice, but, if I may be so bold as to suggest such a thing, makes an even more poignant and beautiful version than Dylan. Excuse me for my heresy. Vocally, he does mimic Dylan somewhat, but he brings a different sort of tone to the song. He also replaces the harmonica, which (excuse the heresy again) I always found nice but a little out of place in this song, for violin. I believe you can only find this version on the I’m Not There soundtrack, but you can listen to it, along with three of my other favorites from the soundtrack, online 
I will say this confidently without apologizing for the heresy: this version simply outdoes Dylan’s. Those who know me know my undying love for Chicago-based multi-instrumentalist and whistler extraordinaire Andrew Bird–and hear of it far too often, I’m sure. I love his voice and his whistling and his violin playing and all of them are beautifully on display here, complemented by the lovely harmonies of Nora O’Connor, whose voice may have been made just for singing with Bird. To put it into terms that all you math nerds out there can understand, this song comes seriously close to that elusive asymptote of musical perfection. It also features one of the most beautiful instrumental sections I’ve ever heard starting around 3 minutes and 40 seconds in. It’s the best of Bob and Bird and it’s brilliant. I command you to listen to it immediately at Andrew Bird’s 
Today’s pick comes from My Morning Jacket’s new album Evil Urges, which is set to drop on June 10th.
