Archives : all posts by Dan

Habitat - "Concrete Love"

Habitat choose only to visit the woods, and not live in them. They choose to make-believe and draw in crayon, rather than to get naked and find out what's wrong with themselves. Do you know what I mean? And that's okay. You can strum and whistle and make sweet noises and smile, but wouldn't it be great if you became truly unafraid, truly honest? An easy thing for a critic to say. [MySpace]

J.A.C.K. - "Suicide Man"

With a name that looks like a third-person shooter, or a spy novel that spends too much time on the sex scenes, this band is something of a deception. Their cock rock stylings are exaggerated in all the right ways, especially with the vocalist screeching an entire verse, and their Southern Bar Rock veneer is thankfully a lie, like the way an MC introduces you, and you shake your head as you walk on stage. They rise above it, or sink beneath it, as in to a swamp, whichever is better. [MySpace]

Soko - "I'll Kill Her"

This song swings it legs, languid, over the edge of the bed, but then as the sheets drop, they reveal a smoky cute voice, the pouty girl version of Herman Dune. And as we're suzanne-vega'd through cloudy Paris streets, hands tucked inside our sleeves, 'growing up' seems like a place you end up, not a place you go towards. To quote a remark left on one of my papers for school, thing song is 'hilariously mistaken' in its resignation. If only my chair hadn't been destroyed, I'd have somewhere to sit down. [MySpace] [thank you Olwen]

Jay Reatard - "My Shadow"

I may not be right, but I know you're wrong. I look at your damn beautiful face standing there, spouting those barbs, call them promises, at me. And you're nothing but sweet to me, and your clothes all have my name in them, and your car is made out of a short story with my face in the title. But how dare you do that to us? Now this can never work, 'cause now I have to leave. Have my cake and throw it away. [Buy]

Vic Thrill - "Circus of Enlightenment"

Let Vic Thrill, apparently a hippie now, squeeze you gently with his goldfish warble and his flighty ideals. Imagine peace + love were all you knew. Forget about those things losing their value, I wouldn't even know what to do with myself. I'd probably act something like this song. I'd start by grinning, looking around, tapping my foot. Then I'd start shouting "this is it! this is it! this is it!" I'd probably snowball into oblivion. I'd happy my heart to death at an early, early age. I'd live for about four minutes. [Site]

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Almost luckily, we don't live in a world with only peace + love, so it stands out when it's present. Like you, readers. Thank you so much for funding us for another year. I know a bunch "didn't get" to donate, and I'll mention two causes I believe in strongly, if you're still feeling generous:

1. taking us out to dinner.

2. WFMU, over the past year, has become the only radio station I listen to. It started with Matthew telling me (us) about The Best Show on WFMU, and ever since the Best Show podcast was introduced, I haven't missed a show. So, WFMU is having their annual fundraiser where they, an entirely listener-sponsored station, raise their funding for an entire year in 2 weeks. It's worked before, and it needs to work again. Best Show is not doing anymore shows during the fundraising marathon, but Yo La Tengo will be taking requests for pledges on Friday (8-11), so you can pledge then, or any time really. But, I wanted to share with you this sound clip I extracted from one of Best Show's (host Tom Scharpling) fundraiser shows, because it reminds me of you (I'm speaking to the donors and would-be donors for this site). It gives me chills, and makes me proud to have pledged, all of us a soldier in the army of our choosing:

Tom Scharpling - on supporting truly independent art

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Both talents on their own, I'd like to focus today on the collaborations between the band Die Romantik and filmmaker Henry Joost. There are only 2, so it's appropriate, and they're both gorgeous, which is also appropriate.

[note: these video files can't be previewed obviously, so you'll need to have quicktime to watch them]

Die Romantik & Henry Joost - "Nachtmusik Für Linnea" (huge)
or (YouTube)

This is simply a soft and perfect treasure, a seamless visual dialogue. The man sings apparently to Linnea, the coy and smiling blond, about how he wants her, while she is clearly with another woman. However, upon reflection, it may not be that easy, he seems to be singing for someone else, he doesn't seem affected by her refusal. He's almost singing on our behalf, with his voice sounding like a male Astrud Gilberto, as if we, the newly introduced friend, have fallen immediately in love with Linnea, and he whimpers, half in warning half in lament, that we and he, and all the rest, want what will never be ours. But, that's content. Formally, it's edited like a tennis match. The tone, cadence, and colours are all brilliant. If you've seen F for Fake, you know that it starts like a jetplane, and goes non-stop for 40 minutes, and then lags bigtime for like 25 minutes during the Picasso part. This is what those 25 minutes should have been condensed to.

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Die Romantik & Henry Joost - "A Die Romantik Christmas"

Admittedly sillier, this video is still filled brimming with greatness. Looked at on the whole, it's three men sharing a Christmas meal with an elf. Looked at from inside, it's a swirling waltz and cackle about holiday cheer. The eerie haunt of the carol-cum-dirge sways the camera back and forth, towards and away, from the grins, the knives, the meat. The elf, whose house it is, seems possibly imaginary, so these men's psychosis brings them together, to laugh and drink and devour. It's Holiday Halloween. Or more accurately, a cute argument for Christmas as cult ritual.

--

Henry (I like that his name sounds like "Juste") has informed me that he's working on a video for the title track from Die Romantik's new album, Narcissist's Waltz. The song begins where "Nachtmusik" ends, and throws open the beige shutters and greets the sun,
like this.

[Die Romantik's website] [Henry Joost's website]

Leopold and His Fiction - "Miss Manipulation"

Doesn't it feel like the world's in a giant foam party? Except minus the party part. It's a constant physical effort to see what's right in front of you. And after you make it to the kitchen, your lunch is still covered in foam. Driving is tougher, but you get used to it right away, your eyes, now useless, glaze over, and your mouth bunches and flattens, you still, inexplicably, signal. At this point, we pull back from you, and realise that this song is about all of us getting along in this foam party world.

Leopold and His Fiction - "Be Still"

If the Pauls made songs in straight lines, if Alden Penner's sweetness weren't hiding in a tomb somewhere, if drumsticks could tap dance, then there would be no need for this song to exist. But there is a need. Please stay.

[Buy]

Page France - "Here's a Telephone"

Rolling out of the cup as always with lyrics like a tap-dance, this is the 1:21 with the most fury (yes, even a distorted electric guitar) on the new Page France album. So much fury for his little all-carpet room, his little duck mouth, that it takes another 1:21 to calm down. Sweating, "gosh, I was so angry I almost swaggered." [Buy tour EP]

Holy Fuck - "Lovely Allen"

I went to the show tonight. Had some great moments, mostly driven to and found by the drummer. This is the first song off their new EP, which is a huge, and isolated, departure from their other stuff. It seems to have an intention aside from throbbing atmosphere and totally nerding out, which is highly unexpected, and a bit off-putting. Had Malkmus been on stage with them adding freestyle vocals (instead of the always-charming Subtitle) he would have started Baba O'Reily lyrics over top, out here in the fields, I fight for my meals... [Buy, Tour]

Ford & Fitzroy - "Handbags and Handgrenades"

I know a lot of you will write this song off too quickly. Yes, it's 6:53. Yes, it repeats its structure one too many times. But you know just as well as I do, that that singer is bloody awesome. His vocal pulls and tugs that can rip tears out of the words, his yelps and warbles that curve better than terrible posture. And his screams, god, his screams, they have the urgency and fear of a young Isaac Brock, and (think what you may of him) the presence and passion of a young Conor Oberst. And though normally I would ne'er want the two conjoined, like a Taurus and a pick-up, this guy is his own thing, and he deserves more; more space, more silence dedicated to him, more time to build and break. [site]

James Yorkston - "Woozy With Cider"

Playing one of these James Yorkston songs is like only hearing about someone you were supposed to meet. Your impression is skewed and you can't be blamed if you don't like it, you never saw the side you liked that makes the side you didn't like worthwhile. But listening to these both, you'll find something you like, they're like two very different days to the same wonderful weekend. The first day, Saturday, is spent feeling mildly sorry for yourself, the morning full of thoughts like waking up with a stack of books in your mouth, most of them Allen Ginsberg collections. The white light and chiffon curtains and plush smoke carpets of a hotel morning. And Sunday, by the crick, the dapples grow big and round and soft and completely out of focus, as the breeze blows hotter than the air, and the shade is the clothes you wear as you think about the coming school day, the end of things.

James Yorkston - "Summer Song"

[Buy from Domino Records]