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Spirit DitchFebruary 18, 2007... MP3 blogs is droppin' like flies out there. Among the most recent to disappear from the land of the flickering blue teat was the eclectic, electric Post Punk Junk, which fell victim to ISP problems late last week. PPJ introduced me to Teddy and the Frat Girls and Steven Jesse Bernstein, both of whom have been in regular rotation at Afterbirth headquarters for months. Thanks for the good times, PPJ, you will be missed. On the up side, Spoilt Victorian Child, the blog that hipped me to the hippy dippy The United States of America aeons ago, is back after a four month absence. The link to SVC is back on my blogroll, along with a new one, to Good Music for Bad, Bad Times, which is a great source for obscure mid-eighties hardcore punk and speed/thrash metal. One final bit of navel gazing before I move on to more navel gazing. As a method of self-expression, blogging is at least as valid as sitting around a coffee shop and dismissing blogging, buddy. Yadig? Now that I've gotten that out of the way, let's make nice...
When I saw Sparklehorse in 1996 (?), band leader Mark Linkous was in a wheelchair, recovering from a loss of consciousness that cut off circulation to his legs for several hours. The band opened with a version of this song, played even slower than the leaden version posted here. At least a minute of slow, slow strumming passed before Linkous leaned toward the microphone and sang the first stanza: "The parasites will love you/When you're dead/La-la-la-la." It was magic. Sparklehorse - Weird SistersI have had nightmares about poverty for my entire adult life. The details vary, but the setting is always pretty similar: I am living in a dingy, drafty tinderbox of a slum. Stray dogs roam the streets, their ribs visible through their mangy coats. There is an all-encompassing feeling of menace. Mullets and trucker hats abound. Sparklehorse - Spirit DitchI have dreamt of sleeping in a burned out basement, and have awakened in a spirit ditch, many, many times. It spooked me to no end to hear that someone else had had the same experience. Sparklehorse - Tears on Fresh FruitVivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot is an excellent album. It pains me not to post the poppy "Hammering the Cramps," with its shimmering curtains of tremoloed guitar distortion, and the wheezing, mournful "Cow," with its languid brookside banjo, but I want you to buy a copy of this motherfucker. If you like Neil Young, or American Music Club, or poetry, if you are not afraid of pedal steel, or the backwoods, or Dixie, you'll love Vivadixie. Permadink | |Astounding Album AlertFebruary 4, 2007... As it has for a lot of people, the Internet has changed the way I listen to music. I cadge tunes from many sources now, some of them even legal, but I'm cadging songs, not albums. And when I tire of cadging and am ready for a little playback, eight times out of ten, I just set my media player to shuffle and let the fucker rip. A song by Richard Buckner is followed by a song by Kraut is followed by a song by Van Halen is followed by a song by Simply Saucer is followed by a song by Svatsox, ad nauseam... I still buy albums. I just don't listen to them all that often. So, when I tell you that this post is about an album I have listened to, end to end, again and again, lately, you know it's some good shit.
Enon's High Society starts like a bomber's engines, and through its fifteen songs and thirty-odd minutes, careens through a waltz break, dollops of cutesy Japanese girl electro-pop, a wee bit of middle eastern filigree, a nod or three in the direction of lazy-dog Pavement, and a languid chamber pop number, before grinding to a halt like a warped copy of "I am the Walrus" at 16 rpm. Variety and restless inventiveness aside, Enon has modus operandi on High Society, and that modus operandi is a tight mix of guitar rock and electronics. It's new wave, but with testosterone. Like Metric, but smarter and darker. It is on Touch and Go, after all... Enon - Native NumbEnon - Disposable PartsEnon - Natural DisastersPermadink | | |
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