A few quick links you may have missed this week and worthy of your time this weekend
I am of the generation that grew up in the wake of In The Aeroplane Over The Sea—not in the era from when the album was first released, but in the ensuing years where it became totem of alternative/indie rock culture. Like many, I became obsessed with the album and the story of Jeff Mangum, the reclusive genius who became the J.D. Salinger of rock. I was ecstatic when Jeff Mangum returned to the stage, and witnessed two amazing performances in Portland and Eugene (I remarked at the time that only Jeff Mangum could get a Portland crowd to scream “I love you, Jesus Christ!”). But even there was something that was missing from those performances, and that was the rickety junkyard orchestra quality of the album itself, provided by a full backing band. “Holland, 1945” will always be one of the greatest songs ever written, regardless of how it’s performed, but it loses something without those horns and that fuzz bass and those barely-restrained chaotic drums. So even though I had the good fortune to see those previous two performances, I still jumped at the opportunity to see Neutral Milk Hotel as a whole for the reunion tour.
There are those that express some reservations to this. Steven Hyden of Grantland wrote about his reaction to the return of Mangum and Neutral Milk Hotel, and he took a much more pessimistic stance. I do agree to some extent the cult-like devotion of some fans is a turn-off (while I have listened to the album over a hundred times, I haven’t memorized the entire lyric sheet as it seems most audiences have), but I wouldn’t go so far as to say as a result that I like the album “less”. And personally I think it’s unfair to call out any band for their possible motivations for reuniting, even if it’s to say that you don’t care that their intentions may be less than noble. I can see points being made about post-boomer generations now realizing how much fun it can be to indulge in nostalgia, this overlooks the fact that there were younger generations who never got a chance to experience things firsthand, so why piss on their opportunity to do so? I didn’t get a chance to see Dinosaur Jr. the first time around, but I’m sure as shit enjoying their late-period renaissance; Pavement was before my time, but seeing their reunion in Central Park was one of the greatest live performances I’ve ever seen.
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Continuing our previous coverage of the 20th anniversary of Dookie, Consequence of Sound asked various writers and musicians about their memories of the album. What struck me is how many were my age at the time (around 9 years old), and led me to wonder whether any bands that are currently popular with 9 year olds will have any critical respect twenty years later. I’m going to say probably not.
Here’s an interesting article that details how useless it can be to talk about a musician’s social media presence. The number of followers and likes are generally useless figures, and discussion of those immaterial numbers take away from any discussion of the music itself. However, there’s a twist in this story of how exactly an artist gained all those Twitter followers.
One of my favorite weekends of the year is NBA All-Star Weekend, and this year will be especially great because I’ll be cheering for two Blazers. Kudos to LaMarcus Aldridge and Damian Lillard, the latter of whom will be the first player to participate in five events during the weekend. What does this news have to do with music? Just the fact that they’ve got an outstanding musical lineup for the weekend, with Kendrick Lamar performing before the Dunk Contest, Pharrell in the pre-game ceremony, and Janelle Monáe performing with Trombone Shorty, Dr. John, and Earth, Wind & Fire at half-time. That’s probably the best lineup that I remember for the event, if only for the fact that Phillip Phillips is not involved.
And finally, as the Winter Olympics begin, enjoy this video of a Russian Police Choir performing “Get Lucky” as a part of the Opening Ceremonies. I didn’t see much of the festivities, but I’m pretty sure this has to be one of the top highlights.
In recent years I developed a scientific but informal method to determining the best albums of the year. It’s scientific in its attempt at objectivity (number of plays over the year), but informal in that the order was only for the purpose of guiding friends as to which albums they would get the most bang for their back. For the year of 2011, this process determined that the self-titled debut of Cults was the fourth-best album of the year, while Yuck’s album (coincidentally enough, also a self-titled debut) took the crown at number one. Since then, I can honestly say those assessments hold up, since I continue to listen to those albums on a regular basis (in fact, if I re-ranked the list, I’d bump Cults up into the number two slot, close behind Yuck (sorry Girls and The Antlers)).
Is there a reason to pair these bands together, besides future narrative convenience? In a way, probably. As has been the case for most rock bands for over a decade now, both of these bands took their major inspirations from the past and offered their own reinterpretations of their favorite old bands. If you want to be mean, you could say the urge was not to push boundaries and create new genres, but to affirm a love of the old sounds that they had heard before, and hey what do you know, let’s try to do the same things ourselves. I myself don’t want to be mean, so don’t pin that accusation on me (others, however, have no problem whatsoever with this approach and react in a way that makes you want to ask if there’s anything you can do to console them, because it seems as if somebody in the band ran over their dog (possibly on multiple occasions)).
What distinguished Yuck and Cults from their colleagues was the era of their particular nostalgia. While several bands trafficked in 80’s revivalism (from post-punk to top-40 sounds) or hearkened back to 70’s arena rock, Yuck and Cults chose different routes: early-90s guitar-rock for Yuck and 60’s-era pop for Cults. After years of call-backs to Joy Division, Gang of Four, or God forbid, Led Zeppelin, critics at least would have a different set of bands to name-drop in describing each group’s sound (well, Dinosaur Jr. at the very least–that was the one that got the most references from what I’ve read for Yuck; I never saw too many specifics for Cults). But reminding me of some of my favorite bands only gets you so far; I was more than anything impressed with the execution of each band.
Take “Get Away”, the track that kicks off the Yuck album: the super-fuzzed-out rhythm guitar instantly catches your attention, and then the delicious lead guitar line, both in terms of melody and tone, kicks in through the mix with a circular riff that matches the song’s theme. But it’s the little moments that add up that make me truly appreciate the song: the excellent use of feedback as lead parts in the second verse, a post-chorus that truly builds on the chorus and leads perfectly back to the verse, and a bridge where everything drops out but a bassline reminiscent of the Pixies before everyone jumps back in for one last go-around. It’s early 90’s alternative done with an ear for perfect songcraft, and the only thing that’s infuriating is that the band members are even younger than I am.
For Cults, the comparisons are more general: the sunny nature of Madeline Follin’s vocals and the bright happy melodies do a lot to evoke an air of nostalgia, and bring to mind memories of Phil Spector and old-time girl groups like The Ronettes. It takes a lot to make this style seem like more than a gimmick, and over the course of an album Cults managed to do this successfully. There are subtle modern touches that provide enough of a twist to capture your attention, especially with the drum programming, and the seemingly carefree vocals mask lyrics that are more melancholic than expected. And I have to love a band that’s willing to do not only music videos, but videos that can be best described as “the director decided to get stoned and watch Lost Highway, and oh yeah, let’s make it a bizarre love story too”.
It’s easy then to imagine the excitement I felt when I learned that these two bands would be releasing new albums in 2013. I was excited to see what new influences the bands were willing to explore, or if they decided to stick with their old formula, that frankly sounded fine as well–it was a win-win as far as I was concerned. But soon after the announcements of the new albums, bad news followed: Yuck announced that lead singer Daniel Blumberg had left the band (and would record an album as Hebronix), and Brian Oblivion and Madeline Follin had broken up as a couple, but in both cases, new albums were going to be released anyway. This was just the kind of news that makes a fan more than a bit wary of what could possibly be released, or worry that there would even be a release at all.
Each banded handled the turmoil in different ways: Cults agreed to several interviews detailing the process of making their new album and providing further background of the romantic-but-not-band breakup, and Yuck just started releasing music. The first single after Blumberg’s departure that Yuck released was “Rebirth”, which is just too on-the-nose to not be something that was planned. It did signal a new influence for the band, as they seemingly had decided to switch their focus from American alternative-rock to British shoegaze, and it seemed that the band had internalized the latter style as well as they had the former on their debut. In a normal year, I would have said that “Rebirth” was the best My Bloody Valentine song released that year; since hell froze over and My Bloody Valentine actually released a new album last year, I would revise my statement and say it was the third or fourth-best MBV song of the year.
The Cults approach worked too, because at least with continued engagement with the press indicated that a follow-up was not a tossed-off effort, and that they were committed to continuing the band. And their choice of a teaser single took the opposite approach of Yuck: from a stylistic perspective, “I Can Hardly Make You Mine” would fit right in at just about any point in the track-listing of Cults, though there were some subtle differences in the instrumentation that pointed to some growth (synths that were higher up in the mix, a more dominant guitar part, and livelier drumming all pointed to exciting possible new directions for the album).
With these songs, optimism began to build up once again, and I gladly purchased Glow and Behold and Static as soon as they were released. I then went through my usual ritual, ripping the CD and importing the tracks onto my iPod (to be played during the next workout), and then putting the physical discs in my car (to be played on my next drive). And just as was the case with their debuts, my reaction to each album was that of near-instant love. Now here we are a few months later and both albums remain in my car as part of the regular rotation, and when I write up my review of the best albums of 2013, both albums should have a place on the list.
But apparently I’m in the minority with this opinion (well, a minority of a minority–we’re talking about indie bands that are somewhat obscure even by indie rock standards). While Static actually has a similar Metacritic score to Cults, it failed to generate as much press or buzz, and failed to appear on year-end lists at the same rate that I remembered that their debut did. And there was a huge nosedive in critical appreciation of Glow and Behold as opposed to Yuck. Another bad sign was the lack of local promotion for either of their shows in Portland, which is pretty amazing considering that the backstories for each album should be a hook for both critics and their subsequent audience. The articles practically wrote themselves.
At least with some critics, it appeared that some were unwilling to let go of the past. This is especially evident in AllMusic’s review of Glow and Behold, which can’t seem to accept the fact that the band decided to continue without Blumberg, and subsequently would not sound the exact same. It may be just that I personally found the increased emphasis on shoegaze to be a more interesting route to take than an attempt to ape Blumberg’s whine, or that I had fonder memories of Teenage Fanclub than others (when Yuck first came out, I remarked that it seemed like they were the one band that learned that Bandwagonesque was SPIN’s album of the year over Nevermind and seemed to agree with the result; the Teenage Fanclub influence was even more pronounced on Glow and Behold, with the album’s more focus on brighter melodies and cleaner guitars). It was the same case with the more negative reviews of Static, though in a way in reverse: reviews would say how there was little deviation from the first album, when there was an entire two-thirds of the album that had a darker mood and more challenging instrumentation than anything on the debut.
So it’s clear what my answer to the title question is, and for what it’s worth, the few of my friends that care about this sort of thing tend to agree. I’m fine with enjoying great songs like “We’ve Got It” and “Middle Sea” (a song that would be near the top of my list of best singles of the year) on my own, but I just hope that we won’t end up seeing more great bands like these two get caught up in the downswing of the hype-cycle, despite continuing to produce great music, as we’ve seen plenty of times before. In other words, when album number three comes out, I’ll be there.
I first came across the Dum Dum Girls early last year, a few months after the release of their EP End of Daze. I quickly was hooked on their hazy take on 60’s-era garage-pop and worked my way backwards through their catalog. I enjoyed their bubblegum melodies and big hooks, and as a result, Only in Dreams had an extended residency in my car for a couple of months. While it’s easy to pinpoint the limits to their style (simplistic drumbeats, 3-4 basic chords, etc.), it worked in small doses, and it didn’t hurt that the lyrics were alternately clever and heart-felt. With songs as great as “Bedroom Eyes”, there’s no reason to spend much time nit-picking these slight concerns.
With their new album, the Dum Dum Girls decided it was time for a stylistic shift, ditching the 60’s as their prime influence and switching to a more 80’s-inspired sound. From the outset, one hears the addition of synths and the use of heavily reverbed drums that give off that heavily-processed 80’s pop style. The synths don’t dominate the sound, as might be expected, but are kept more in the background; guitars are still a dominant presence, either through slick lead lines or through arpeggiated strums that cut through the mix.
There is a question of what inspired this new direction–did Dee Dee spend a few late nights watching her Drive Blu-Ray? Or was it simply a recognition of the limits of her previous style? Last year I saw a couple of openers at different shows that either were influenced by the Dum Dum Girls directly, or they had found the original influences and decided that it was a viable option. So it makes sense from both an artistic and commercial perspective to begin broadening horizons.
In the end, I’m not sure it entirely works. There are some great moments on the album, but too often the staged artificiality of the music acts as a drawback, and cuts against taking any of the lyrics seriously. However, there is something to be said to being able to craft a seemingly effortless pop song, which I think the Dum Dum Girls accomplished with “Are You Okay?” Here, the light airy music with the sugary melody provide an effective dichotomy with the pleading lyrics. This is the moment when you could say the new direction pays off.
Coveredis a feature where we examine the merits of various cover songs, debating whether or not they capture the spirit and intent of the original, if the cover adds anything new, and whether or not it perhaps surpasses the original. If we fail on those counts, at the very least we may expose you to different versions of great songs you hadn’t heard before.
I’m going to kick off this feature with a true toss-up in my mind: “Another One Goes By”.
We’ll start off with the version that I imagine most people heard first, the cover as done by The Walkmen. For many, A Hundred Miles Off was a bit of disappointment, a small bump on the road between Bows + Arrows and You & Me and other later successes. The band has even shown indications that they agree with that assessment, from their interviews to their setlists, but there are some undeniable great songs on that record: “Louisiana”, live favorite “All Hands And The Cook”, and the closer “Another One Goes By”. The fact that the last one was a cover would probably come as a shock to most people, since it has all the elements of a natural Walkmen song: warm organ/bright piano, trebly guitar strums, and plaintively yearning lyrics that fit Hamilton Leithauser’s unique voice perfectly.
Here’s the original, from the band Mazarin. The immediate difference that’s apparent is the driving drumbeat that keeps the tempo up throughout the song, giving the song a drive that provides a counter to the melancholic lyrics. The added filter on the vocals give the lyrics a more haunted quality, and enhances the theme of mourning over lost opportunities. But considering the similarities in the rest of the song, it’s easy to see why it was a natural fit for The Walkmen to cover.
In the end, it’s hard to argue one or way the other which is better. It’s clear that The Walkmen were able to capture the wistful but mournful spirit of the song, but chose instead to convey this through a quiet, laid-back shuffle of a drumbeat and a more expressive vocal performance. It truly comes down to my particular mood at the moment as to which version I prefer.
Because nostalgia always sells, you’re going to see a lot of retrospectives this year for some important albums. A couple of weeks back there was an excellent oral history of Pavement’s Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain from Stereogum, and now it looks like it’s time for Green Day’s Dookie to get its moment in the sun. SPIN reprinted its profile of the band from back in 1994, and Stereogum took a quick look back with this retrospective. After we take a moment to contemplate the fact that an album called “Dookie” sold over 10 million copies and is remembered with great fondness, and that somehow the bratty young punks of Green Day are still making albums, take a look at what I believe is the most amazing part of both articles: that there was an incident where, of all people, Jello Biafra of the Dead Kennedys was assaulted and accused of being a “sellout”.
Not surprisingly, the scenewide furor that has resulted combines the brutal energy of hardcore with all its lack of clearheadedness. Most inexcusably, at Gilman Street in May, former Dead Kennedys singer, Jello Biafra, was assaulted repeatedly and seriously injured by a punk kid while a crowd chanted “sellout” and “rock star.”
Because words apparently mean whatever we want them to mean.
A few quick links you may have missed this week and worthy of your time this weekend
Complex had a great article this week in which a member of the Recording Academy provided a first-hand account of the Grammy Award voting process. It’s a quick read, and it gives you a clue as to how you end up with some of the more ridiculous options over the years. Of course, if you’re not inclined to read a behind-the-scenes look because the Grammys are not an award worthy of your time, that’s perfectly fine. Fiction has its merits as well, for the record.
Cloud Nothings debuted a new song this week on SoundCloud, and you can listen to it here. I’ve been a fan for a few years now, and appreciated how their new-found love of The Wipers shaped their previous album Attack On Memory (without “Youth of America”, there would be no “Wasted Days”, and Dylan Baldi would probably be the first to point that out). After listening to the new track, I’m glad to hear that this love of The Wipers was not just a passing phase and continues to be an influence. Hopefully the rest of the new album lives up to this song (we’ll find it for sure on April 1).
And finally, the music world (and the world itself) lost a giant when Pete Seeger died earlier this week. It’s been great reading tributes to him from all over, and seeing different friends post his performances. There was one that I caught last night that I wanted to share, and that was his performance of his classic “If I Had A Hammer” with Stephen Colbert.
The New Pornographers have carved out a great career writing catchy, ambitious rock songs with great pop melodies. A prime example of this is “The Bleeding Heart Show”, one of the highlights of my favorite album of theirs, Twin Cinema. The rousing coda makes it easy to see why it’s a live favorite; it’s probably indie rock’s best answer to the second half of “Layla”. I think it’s a fair comparison, because while both are certainly crowd-pleasers, I’m never quite sure if there is a real connection between the two sections.
But we’re here to celebrate, not bury the song. I think it’s pretty apparent that the key part of the coda is the propulsive drumwork of Kurt Dahle. It’s his shift to double-time that gives the music its lift, and it’s his fills that connect each repetition of the lament “we have arrived too late to play the bleeding heart show” that help pump up the listener. He plays a different variation at the end of each phrase, propelling the band into the next go-around by progressively amping up the intensity and increasing the difficulty while never letting things get out of control.
While I love each of the fills, there is a very subtle pattern that Dahle uses that is in my mind the coolest part of the song. It occurs about two bars after each fill (after the “too late” part), with the first instance at around the 3:16 mark. It’s a quick two hits of the hi-hat on the off-beats, and it serves to both accent the “too late” of the lyrics, and to reset the drum pattern until the next fill. It’s a little detail that’s easy to gloss over and escapes notice on the first few listens, but once it’s found, it becomes the highlight of the song.
The biggest news from Monday was the surprise announcement of the reunion of seminal shoegaze band Slowdive. While the news didn’t break the internet like the shocking release of My Bloody Valentine’s long-awaited followup to Loveless, it still brought a cheer to those who remember those lonely nights while Souvlaki played softly on the stereo of an empty apartment (though actual personal experiences may vary, it is has been my experience that these are in fact the optimal conditions for listening to the album).
For those who are interested in the particulars of the news announcement, the band announced that they will be playing the Primavera Sound festival, which takes place in Barcelona at the end of May. Just take a look at all the other headliners–it’s hard to imagine a more loaded lineup. In addition, the band announced a London show, and more dates will be added. And have no fear American fans (like myself), the band is hopeful that they can record a new album together, so there’s reason to think it won’t be a one-off kind of thing like the Pavement reunion was (the new go-to example now that the Pixies have decided to release new music once again). And while there were some publications that expressed reservations about the motives of the band (see Stereogum, AV Club), in an interview with The Quietus the band assured fans that this was done with more noble intentions in mind.
So, why should you care about this particular reunion?
In my mind, there were two titans of shoegaze, a peculiar genre that was popular in Britain in the late-80’s/early 90’s: My Bloody Valentine and Slowdive. I’ve always appreciated the term “shoegaze”, because of all the various microgenres that the casual music fan might encounter, it gives the best idea of what the music actually sounds like (contrast it with say, “krautrock”). It conjures up both ideas of melancholy (staring at the “shoes”) and dreaminess/haziness (the “gaze” component), both of which appear in sizable quantities in the genre. I always felt that MBV focused more on the former, while Slowdive’s great asset was its emphasis on the latter. (For the record, if you are completely unfamiliar with My Bloody Valentine, I suggest you visit this link and then repeat the video ten times, because that will allow you to fully process what a mindfuck Loveless is to the uninitiated. )
The best introduction to Slowdive is probably their second album, Souvlaki. Few albums perfectly capture the concept of “dreampop” like this one–there is an ethereal quality to the swirling guitars, but they don’t overpower the delicate hooks and melodies. This is apparent from the very first track, “Alison”.
It captures the attention of the listener immediately, and gives a roadmap of what to expect from the rest of the album–layers and layers of echoed guitars with reverb to spare, a gentle melody, and those beautiful backing female vocals, all in a mid-tempo three-and-a-half minute pop song. Another highlight is the haunting ballad “Dagger”.
The band strips down most of the effects and leaves a gently strummed down-tuned acoustic guitar, with suspended chords adding to the tension of the lyrics. It is the quintessential melancholic 3 am song.
“Machine Gun” is another highlight, a ballad that features a great contrast between the vocals of Rachel Goswell for the verses and Neil Halstead for the chorus. I find that the song itself presents an interesting juxtaposition with its title, not only in style but in its lyrics as well, which focus on water-related imagery.
If you love what you’ve heard so far, then great news, there’s a strong chance you’ll love everything else in the Slowdive discography. Their debut Just For A Day is stylistically similar to Souvlaki, though it doesn’t quite gel in the same way that the later album does, and suffers a bit from weaker production. Pygmalion was a bit more of a stylistic shift, with some experimentation and an icier atmosphere, but is not a radical departure from the gorgeous Slowdive sound. All of this should bode well in case we’re lucky enough to see a new album.
Welcome to “Rust Is Just Right”. This is a music site that’s designed to provide an environment for all kinds of fans, from the ones that study every single page published by the music press to those who have barely any time to keep in contact with what’s happening in popular culture these days. We’re all here because we all love music, and we all want to find more of it.
Our aim is not to just be another music criticism site, but to focus on what makes certain songs and albums great and worthy of your time. That means going beyond handy crit-speak cliches, and getting to the root of “why you should listen to this new band right now.” In other words, we are well aware of the limits of providing reviews that are a string of name-drops, and will make sure to provide commentary that is actually helpful.
We’ve also planned a couple of features that will look into the past with this same goal in mind. “Feats of Strength” will analyze particular songs or videos, and point out certain parts that you may have missed on the first few listens, but are really the key to what makes a song great. “TL;DR” will be a section for longer essays that ponder theories and trends, and hopefully provide some helpful history for those that are in search of new areas to explore. “Covered” will be a recurring feature that looks at different covers and hopefully sparks a discussion on whether they are faithful or even surpass the original songs. While that’s what we have planned for now, we’ll always welcome suggestions for other features in the future.
We hope you enjoy the site. Feel free to give us feedback. We know we won’t be perfect, but hopefully over time and with your help, we’ll get close.