I JUST WANT TO SMOKE CRACK WITH MY FRIENDS! Ok… that’s definitely not what I want to do but that is one of the quality lyrics from Natural Child’s song, Crack Mountain. Crack Mountain is a crisp blend of garage rock with a southern twist. Like most Natural Child songs, it has refreshingly straightforward lyrics. Its upbeat tempo is nearly irresistible and as the weather gets warmer, Natural Child will make you feel like it is already mid-summer. You should definitely listen to Natural Child this weekend and you should certainly avoid their advice.
Starved in metropolis…
Hooked on necropolis…
Addict of metropolis…
Do the worm on the acropolis
Slamdance the cosmopolis
Enlighten the populace….
“Ghetto Defendant” is one of those songs that will never tire me. I’ve listened to it religiously for months, always finding something new in the lyrics and the way in which the different speakers’ words interact with one another. That pleasing, old poet voice rhythmically purring is none other than Allen Ginsberg reciting lyrics he wrote for the song, communicating “the voice of God.” Take a listen:
Loving is a mellow indie rock band from Victoria, British Columbia. Their song “Bowlly Going Dancing Drunk Into the Future” is off their 2016 self-titled LP, an album heavy with motifs of delicate nature, letting go, and wandering. Listen to “Bowlly Going Dancing” while sharing a dessert with a friend this weekend.
maybe you could talk freely
speak to me for once so truly
for once so truly
i could know
just where you’re going
just where i’m standing.
that would really be something.
in most ways on most days
i am clearly disappearing
i am clearly disappearing
at the thought of our nearing
this morning i awoke
and read the words
that you wrote.
they were different from what you spoke
they were different from what you spoke
and it was there you declared
all love is unfair.
Photo credit of Loving from their bandcamp, https://loving1.bandcamp.com/
Breaking the silence
Of an ancient pond,
A frog jumped into water-
A deep resonance.
-Matsuo Basho, The Narrow Road to the Deep North
Daniel R. Robinson was an acoustic guitarist who changed his name to Robbie Basho in honor of the Japanese poet Matsuo Basho. Like Matsuo Basho’s poetry, Robbie Basho’s music captures a beauty and calmness deeply rooted in the natural world. In Robbie Basho’s rendition of Debussy’s piano solo “Clair de Lune,” Basho’s guitar echoes the effects a piano’s sustaining pedal would produce in a typical performance of the song while adding a rugged folksiness and energy to the piece. Take a listen:
Faust’s fourth and arguably best album, Faust IV is one of the best krautrock records ever recorded. Full of the usual frenetic, psychedelic, free-form jams Jennifer is a gorgeous psych ballad. The lush, repetitive guitar arpeggio and oscillating bass drones meld into a reverberating soundscape, only to be interrupted by a wonky riff that seamlessly flows back into the verse. Jennifer is Faust at their most meticulous and refined, without loosing their experimental nature. As the weather gets colder and winter sets in, I keep coming back to this song. Dig it.
Dog Years is a “heart-shaped box”-esque slowburner. Its lyrics steam with hate. Dog Years reveals the vitriolic aftermath of a relationship. In its soul-crushing relentlessness, the song captures how the subject of the song meticulously ruined life’s simple joys. Jenna Moynihan begins by singing, “If you could do anything / You would ruin the best things / You would spoil the ending / You’d dissolve cotton candy.” Later on she seems to find sadistic pleasure from imagining the death of whomever she is singing about. The pain and disgust are palpable.
I’ve always had mixed feelings about math rock. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the genre, here’s my stripped-down definition: experimental rock made up of layered rhythms that really should not sound good together. In my experience, math rock can range from utterly abrasive to mind-blowing. Palm lands on the latter end of that spectrum.
I saw this band play at an itty bitty coffee shop up in Boulder a few weeks ago. The performance had me fully immersed – it almost becomes a game, trying to figure out when the downbeats land or when the keys change. It’s impossible to concentrate to this sort of music, yet it tickles the brain in an inspiring way.
Palm is full of contradictions. I should really stop trying to describe it, and you should really just listen to their newest track below. Enjoy.
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
Sitting outside on this sunny Sunday, listening to old Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band, I feel gluttonously at ease. This 1967 track off Safe as Milk will soothe you over, relax your muscles, and put you in the nostalgic shoes of all the alumni on campus this weekend. Don Van Vliet’s tender, bluesy voice sings of good times, gratitude, and loss while his Magic Band coos behind him. The constant tempo keeps a groovy vibe, perfect to put on repeat while swaying with a friend, taking a walk, or doing a problem set on this fine weekend.
I’m a big fan of the first few weeks after an album is released. No matter how famous or underground the artist is, for a glorious fortnight I can toss their music on the aux and watch as everyone in the room reacts. People will bob their heads and tap their toes, running through the iTunes libraries of their mind trying to figure out who the hell sings this song. In that moment, I feel like god, holding the power of a great song as well as the holy knowledge of its origins.
Ariel Pink’s latest album has been on the airwaves long enough wear its novelty thin, yet his music always has a similar effect on a room. Nostalgia confronts experimentalism in songs like “Death Patrol,” leaving listeners in a frustrating state of deja vu. Dreamy disco melodies combined with Pink’s eclectic vocal range make this track familiar yet uncontrived. “Death Patrol” is a perfect song for parents’ weekend, as music fans from any era can recognize something likable in it.