Just wanted to give Pavement a little bit of love and appreciation. This song is originally by Echo and the Bunnymen, but they put their own, slightly more melancholy spin on it. I don’t really feel like I have the ability to describe this song at all adequately enough to illicit in you the admiration it deserves, so just press play.
It’s Wednesday of 3rd week. I’m on the I-25, crawling through rush hour traffic foggily towards Denver. The Cranberries ask me over the stereo if I have to let it linger. A little anxious pit in my stomach starts to open again; I push it down. My day, up to this point, has been a sort of tug-of-war between feeling really excited about the Tyler, The Creator show I’m currently on the way to see and the weird, soul-sucking feeling people’s responses have prompted in me when I told them I was going to the show alone.
I haven’t posted on this website in a while, but in that while I’ve managed to fall completely into a bottomless pit of admiration/adoration for King Krule, and specifically for his new album The OOZ. If you’re interested in hearing him say the album title in his glorious British accent, or in learning more about how the album was made, check out the Beats 1 session he recorded in his bathroom-turned-brainspace: https://itunes.apple.com/us/station/king-krule-takeover/idra.1295672630
Right now, though, on this cold Colorado Tuesday evening, I want to bring your attention to the first single from The OOZ–– Czech One. Not only is the song just really fucking spaceously beautiful, but the video is one of the best music videos I’ve seen in some time. If your self-esteem needs a little hammering, King Krule (or Archy Marshall, the man behind the project) is 23 and the director of “Czech One,” Frank Lebon, is 20. (But don’t actually feel bad; they both come from ridiculously creative/artistic lineages, which is its own sort of privilege)
Anyway, here’s “Czech One”:
If you liked what you saw, you should check out (The OOZ, obviously, but also) the art collective that Frank Lebon is a part of: http://www.dobedo.co.uk/
picture taken from altcitizen.com
Over this past block, I made an episode of a podcast. It’s not completely about music, but it’s on how sound makes meaning, so I figured I would post it on here. In it, I interview two really wonderful members of the CC community, Jake Sabetta and Jane Hilberry (and if you’re on this website, you will likely at least know of Jake).
Hope you enjoy!
This little gem of a song popped up on my Discover Weekly this week, and the vocals instantly charmed me with their Frankie Cosmos-like easiness; if I were to describe Melina Duterte’s (the mastermind behind Jay Som) voice with a motion, that motion would definitely be floating, softly and lightly just above the melody. The guitar, especially in the solo near the end of the song, seems very reminiscent of Mitski, and since her and Frankie Cosmos are two of my favourite artists, it’s no surprise that this song caught my eye (or, I guess, ear). Plus, the self-proclaimed “most trusted voice in music” and our overall most favourite website, Pitchfork, gave Jay Som’s new album an 8.6 and oh-so-highly coveted Best New Music title, so she must be great. (But, seriously, give this song a listen).
Although Alex G’s last full album, Beach Music, was released in 2015, he’s picked up a fair amount of steam this past year, mostly through collaborating with Frank Ocean on both Blonde (he played guitar on “White Ferrari” and “Self Control”) and Endless. While it was extremely gratifying to hear his contribution to both of those beautiful albums, I’ve been hoping to hear some of his own new work, and it seems as though I am in luck –– Alex just announced a new album, Rocket, that’s supposed to come out on May 19th. Here is a beautiful new country-ish single from the album to tide you over for now; prepare your ears for some gorgeous fiddle.
If you’re looking to add a little healthy competition to your and your (other music nerd) friends’ day, look no further. Esquire has made a quiz that ranks your “music IQ” by seeing if you can match a song with its album cover, and it’s definitely worth fifteen minutes of your time. Check it out here:
Just wanted to say a quick happy birthday to one of the most soul-touching, delicately constructed albums of all time –– Elliott Smith’s Either/Or turns 20 today. Speaking (with no authority whatsoever) on behalf of thousands of angsty teenagers and disappointed adults, I want to say thank you to Elliott Smith on this album (as well as some others) for being able to evoke such a wide range of emotions, most stemming from melancholia, in slightly over (or under) three minutes. The expectations for the power that music can have on emotions have shifted a lot in the last twenty years, and we definitely owe some of that shift to Either/Or. If you have a spare three minutes today, pick any song from the album below, hit play and dissolve a little bit.