See You In The Pit: February 19, 2006 - February 25, 2006 Archives

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The Plimsouls

Just like me, at one time you probably saw Valley Girl, momentarily had it really bad for Nick ~~Coppola~~Cage, and wondered who the house band were at the dive bar in Hollywood where Randy took Julie on their first date. Enter The Plimsouls, LA's answer to REM, heirs to Big Star and The Byrds, reputed one of the greatest live bands in the history of American pop music, and a cautionary tale of major label hubris, complete with marketing, licensing, and a breakup when they were promised they would be stars.

The Plimsouls are are where chiming American Power Pop Rickenbacker melodies meet New Wave's aggressive rhythm, where classic pop lyrics meet suburban disaffection, and where the grand tradition of bar bands meets "the scene." Much more than a band who did a song optioned for a teen movie, by 1981 The Plimsouls were one of the bands to see in LA, along with Romeo Void and X. But while their aforementioned peers delivered bleak discomfort and The Go-Gos sold out, The Plimsouls' Peter Case capured the power of hooks strong enough to carry through and influence other contemporary artists, creating small acts of radio-ready rebellion.

The Plimsouls - A Million Miles Away
The Plimsouls - Great Big World
The Plimsouls - Hush, Hush
The Plimsouls - How Long Will It Take?
The Plimsouls - Everywhere at Once

Peter Case's official website is here. Buy Everywhere at Once at Amazon or grab it from iTunes (along with One Night in America). The Plimsouls play before The Go! Team at Exodus on Wednesday, March 15. Little Miss Rock'n'Roll and I are wondering if anyone else cares about this showcase besides us. We have to go, and not just to prove that we know the words to "A Million Miles Away."

Shadows tags:plimsouls.

Posted by Last Girl to the Party on 02.25.06 at 3:16 AM | Comments (5), TrackBack (0)

Okkervil River

Some bands you find out about because they've been written up on some mp3blog or other, or you can't escape the insta-hype on the intarweb from weblogs or the big P, while other bands toil away in obscurity for years and years, picking up dedicated fans along the way. And along the way, they go down one alleyway or another, and slowly but surely grow and mature and get eons better, like Okkervil River.

When I first heard Okkervil River a few years back, I described them to as a friend as Neutral Milk Hotel's sensitivity meets Bright Eyes' pathos, with a dash of Wilco of the Being There era; now I even regret that those words came out of my mouth because this band is so much more than the sum of its influences. There's something familiar, heart-warming, and universal about Okkervil River.

Although some other bands may have unfairly stolen their literary-genre thunder (*cough*Decemberists*cough), Okkervil River spearheads a different kind of rock: hand-sewn but damaged, raw and cathartic but sincere, and bursting with energy and life. This is not music for the faint of heart; these are not songs meant for shy wallflowers and restrained librarians. In fact, when Okkervil were on tour with the aforementioned lit-loving, historically dramatic band, reports from the crowd told me that Okkervil River blew the tall-socks-and-black-rimmed-glasses college sophomores right to the back wall. Why so? First off, there is very little that is naive, twee, or precious about this band, nor are they dependent on the too-cool hordes of mini-genres that pop up all of the time. Frontman Will Sheff and his merry band of followers prefer instead to play pedal steel and banjo, and then go reference a rich tradition of old-timey folk pieces and dusty, neglected volumes of fragile classics.

The Okkervils make fucked up Americana/folk rock from Austin, Texas, built upon the foundation of the warped songwriting talent of Will Sheff, famous for his throaty, hoarse vocals, and ingenious turns of phrase. They have a penchant for lush but raw orchestration, caterwauling devastation, loud-soft-loud depression, and writing eerie murder ballads. The jaw-dropping "For Real" combines gulping, foreboding basslines and a sheer, ever-increasing dread, rising through layers of static and piercing, trembling voices. Listeners are caught unawares by the surprising twists and turns of "Westfall," chills running down their spines, or blindsided by the emotional, threatening climax of "Another Radio Song." Meanwhile songs like "Seas Too Far to Reach" drawn upon stately keyboards and plucky mandolin, to create memorable, lovingly arranged, yearning ballads of loss, love, cheating, and the vast terrain of the human heart. You can almost believe the unkempt, ragged Sheff as he croons "you still haven't lost her, you still haven't lost her, not yet" on the gorgeous and sad "Red."

And of course, I must also give my stamp of approval to the wonderful, heartbreaking "Okkervil River Song." The song they wrote just so you know how to pronounce the name also happens to be one of the best folk songs written this past decade: mournful, breath-taking, shattering, a classic. They've come a long way from the fledgling band that once played a show to all of a dozen people on a weeknight at 8PM in New York's Mercury Lounge: last year, their richly rewarding, tour de force Black Sheep Boy topped many a best-of list.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: we are entirely too lucky to have bands like Okkervil River even in existence. They brought the house down at SXSW in 2004, playing the very last showcase spot on Saturday night at a small club called Tambaleo, far from the throngs of Sixth Street. Most of Austin appeared there to enthusiastically cheer on their hometown heroes, who have finally come into their own. The band threw themselves into the songs, with every mandolin or accordion solo seeming too fiery, too passionate to have come from mere mortals. I'm fairly certain I stood next to the wildly intoxicated members of the band Zykos, who did their own part heckling Will, Jonathan, Travis, and the rest of the gang. Tambourines were thrown, beer was spilled, strings were broken, and lyrics were shouted at the top of their lungs. And, then, there at 2AM, shaking on worn feet and broken-down knees, weary but enthusiastic, the entire room erupted in a joyful chorus to the songs they knew by heart, each chorus reverberating into the empty parking lot outside. And everything was just as it should always be.

Okkervil River - Kathy Keller
Okkervil River - Red
Okkervil River - Westfall
Okkervil River - Okkervil River Song
Okkervil River - It Ends With A Fall
Okkervil River - Seas Too Far to Reach
Okkervil River - For Real
Okkervil River - Black
Okkervil River - Another Radio Song

Okkervil River's official site. Buy Black Sheep Boy from Amazon or iTunes. I also recommend the Black Sheep Boy Appendix EP; you can also purchase that from Amazon or iTunes. Okkervil River play Saturday night, March 18, at 12:15 a.m. at Emo's Annex. You can bet a significant number of Austinites will show again, to finish off SXSW with a bang.

Shadows tags:okkervilriver.

Posted by Queen of the Front Row on 02.25.06 at 12:13 AM | Comments (6), TrackBack (0)

The Ex-Boyfriends

I'll just be really up front about this -- I first heard about The Ex-Boyfriends the other day -- no, not from an mp3 blog, you cynics (but it's totally okay that you're hearing about them in one, of course!). No, it was even worse. Not only did I hear about them from an email directly from the owner of their label (Hi, Cory!) -- they were also Spin's Band of the Day. I'm patiently waiting for someone to come take my indie cred card away as we speak.

But seriously, all kidding aside -- The Ex-Boyfriends are one of those bands where from the moment I first heard them, I thought, "Where has this band been all my life?" (see also: The Baptist Generals, The National, and Ex-BF labelmates, The Wrens -- apparently, I like 'the' bands as well.) Thing one: power pop. We've covered my feelings on that one. Thing two: The band is 2/3 pretty rockin' gay boys with tattoos and glasses. Another weakness -- but I mean, it's okay to objectify pretty boys when they're gay, right? Isn't it?

But, anyway, yes, The Ex-Boyfriends are 2 queens and a straight boy from San Francisco, but don't dismiss them just because they're queer. Though it's true that their sound kind of lives in the gay ghetto of pop-punk with Team Dresch and Pansy Division, there's a dash of Weezer or The Cars rattling around in there too, and an occasional nod to men who are undeniable influences as well -- Morrissey and Bob Mould.

Which is just a roundabout way of saying that The Ex-Boyfriends play the best kind of power pop -- the doomed relationship, let's break up, it's better this way, we're better apart kind of power pop. In a genderless kind of way -- so you know, if you need to put "Him For Me" on a mix CD (because you'll want to, I promise), you'll find it applicable to to any number of sexual orientation and relationship configuration combinations. Which, you know, is always handy.

The Ex-Boyfriends - Him For Me
The Ex-Boyfriends - Willingly

The Ex-Boyfriends' official site. Buy their debut album, Dear John, from Amazon or the iTunes Music Store.

Shadows tags:exboyfriends.

Posted by Little Miss Rock'n'Roll on 02.24.06 at 2:52 AM | Comments (0), TrackBack (0)

Great Lake Swimmers

An abandoned silo in lovely rural Ontario, a lonely voice in the wilderness, a serene acoustic guitar: these things and more are the tools of Great Lake Swimmers' Tony Dekker. The delicate, understated music of Great Lake Swimmers evokes slowly flickering motion pictures and your grandmother's old-fashioned lace. Quietly beautiful, the tiny, hushed folk masterpieces of Great Lake Swimmers have slowly been winning over converts with lush instrumentation and graceful country-pop majesty. Ande although the band is Canadian in heritage, they could very well be mistaken for successors to Gram Parsons, Red House Painters, or Neil Young with their special brand of restrained, reverb-heavy Americana that sticks in your head, and makes impressions on your heart.

Great Lake Swimmers are at their best when evocative of hidden landscapes and vast empty skies, as in the sparse "Moving Pictures, Silent Films." The echo-filled songs cover the familiar territory of nostalgia, romance, and spirituality. The waltz-time of the stately "I Could Be Nothing" fits in perfectly with these paens to lost loves, as does the bittersweet choir of "Falling Into the Sky," while the gradually building tension of "Bodies and Minds" results in a beguiling jigsaw puzzle of melodies and harmonies.

At once both haunting and soothing, it's an intimate folk sound that compares most closely to Iron and Wine, but with a more lively spirit and a soul of steel. While Sam Beam often sounds like he's given up, Tony Dekker is still pondering the moment. Dekker's voice is sweet, creamy, and fills the room, expansive and embracing. His does not float above the songs, but rather, acts as an anchor for the gently strummed guitar, singing lap steel, barely visible banjo, and sound of crickets; it's music meant to be enjoyed in quiet meditation on a still summer night, rocking on a swing under an antique porch light.

Great Lake Swimmers - Moving Pictures, Silent Films
Great Lake Swimmers - I Will Never See The Sun
Great Lake Swimmers - Bodies and Minds
Great Lake Swimmers - Falling Into the Sky
Great Lake Swimmers - I Could Be Nothing

Great Lake Swimmers' official web site. Buy Bodies and Minds from Amazon or iTunes Music Store.

Shadows tags:greatlakeswimmers.

Posted by Queen of the Front Row on 02.23.06 at 1:01 AM | Comments (0), TrackBack (0)

Nada Surf

(We covered Nada Surf last year, here's a reprint of that entry and an update of what the band's been up to for the past year.)

I've listened to a lot of music over the past few years since I've started writing about it more seriously than just in my personal blog. A lot of music.

And to be really honest with you, I've heard very few contenders with albums as utterly perfect as Nada Surf's last three offerings, The Proximity Effect, Let Go, and The Weight is a Gift.

The funny thing is, I would never name any of these as one of my favorites -- and yet there they sit on my playlist in their glimmering, glorious power pop perfection. Unassuming, patient, reliable, and heartbreaking.

Kind of like Nada Surf themselves.

Their story goes a little something like this: You may remember a little mid-90s alternative radio hit & MTV favorite called "Popular." Remember the video with the cheerleader and the guy in a suit lecturing her? ("Make sure to keep your hair spotless and clean. Wash it at least every two weeks! ONCE EVERY TWO WEEKS!") That was Nada Surf.

"Popular" had all the hallmarks dooming Nada Surf to one-hit wonderhood -- cute video, quirky lead vocals, snide lyrics half spoken and half sung -- and they almost ended up there.

So you may have heard this next part before, in a million variations: The band recorded their second full-length record, The Proximity Effect, for Elektra. The label didn't hear a hit, and the band refused to build one out of "Popular"-shaped blocks and were summarily dropped. To everyone's surprise, the album was subsequently released to critical and popular acclaim in Europe. The band later bought back the masters, released it themselves in the US, and toured relentlessly.

And then came Barsuk Records. Flush with the success of Death Cab for Cutie, the label became a welcome home for untethered quirky pop bands; Nada Surf was the first veteran band signed to the label, which released the aforementioned Let Go. The band's second offering on Barsuk, The Weight is a Gift, released in 2005, is impossibly better than Let Go, full of melancholy love songs and musings on growing older, settling down, and dodging the landmines of adulthood. Frontman Matthew Caws' voice is a little more weary; the songs a little more knowing. It's a tiny and near-imperceptible shift for the band, but it's definitely more than welcome.

Nada Surf's official website. Buy The Weight is a Gift from Amazon or check out Nada Surf's entire back catalog at the iTunes Music Store.

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Posted by Little Miss Rock'n'Roll on 02.22.06 at 8:23 AM | Comments (0), TrackBack (0)

Tullycraft

Nobody listens to twee pop any more. Okay, well, maybe you'll find a little tweeness in Sufjan Steven's more precious moments, or the lush romanticism of Stars, or in the latest and greatest Belle and Sebastian, but I'm thinking of a different indie pop beast. The kind that's hopped up on pixie stix, played by cute boys and girls with tiny voices, rough-hewn at the edges, but hyper and endearing and unpretentious. Who cares if the voices are slightly out of tune and they can barely play their guitars when there's a lot of hollering and they've got choruses that jackhammer into your brain?

But I confess that even myself, a former Elephant 6 devotee, have left my Apples in Stereo and Minders albums sit, dusty, and unloved up on the shelf in favor of more recent, hipper trends: post-punk, indie-disco, dance-punk, alt-country, a host of gloomy singer-songwriters and all of those damn Canadian hippie cult bands. You can blame Jeff Mangum for going into hiding or Beulah for breaking up or the kids, those damn kids, for having an attention span that's only a single remix long.

Heavenly and Talulah Gosh, I have forsaken you. Aislers Set, I'm sorry. Ladybug Transistor, please forgive me. But there is still hope; my faith in twee pop has been resuscitated by bands like Voxtrot, Bishop Allen, and, finally, the return of the glorious Tullycraft with Disenchanted Hearts Unite. What used to be sloppy is not slightly less sloppy, but the lyrics are still wonderfully snarky, and the current configuration of band members shows a polish not found on earlier releases. I'm delighted to rediscover that long-forgotten pop rush of the ultra-catchy "Secretly Minnesotan" and singable "Our Days in Kansas." Never has the phrase "disco bloodbath for the ages" sounded quite so sweet. Shake the songs too hard, and joyful hooks will come tumbling out. And let's not forget the back catalog. The jangly "Pop Songs Your New Boyfriend Is Too Stupid to Know About" is a cult classic: chock full of references to other swoonworthy indie pop bands, it's a balm to dumped indie boys across the world. And the refrain of "Twee" is as infectious as it is sharp and self-affirming. Smile, it's Tullycraft! You can keep your punk rock, ska, rap beats, and house, fuck me, I'm twee! Doot-doot-doot-do.

Tullycraft - Secretly Minnesotan
Tullycraft - Our Days in Kansas
Tullycraft - Girl About Town
Tullycraft - Knockout
Tullycraft - Twee
Tullycraft - Pop Songs Your New Boyfriend's Too Stupid to Know About

The official Tullycraft site. Buy Disenchanted Hearts Unite from Amazon or iTunes Music Store.

Shadows tag: Tullycraft.

Posted by Queen of the Front Row on 02.21.06 at 12:27 AM | Comments (0), TrackBack (0)

Lady Sovereign

Sometimes the ups and downs of the SXSW band listing can leave you reeling -- other times, the switcheroo brings about unmitigated joy. I'm happy to report on a situation that reflects the latter, thank goodness. When the first version of the actual schedule of showcases was released last week, it was with great pleasure that I noted Lady Sovereign -- the minuscule, exceptionally sharp teen queen (she's 19) MC of the UK grime scene -- had magically reappeared in the queue after somehow falling off the late January list.

Lady Sov (whatever you do, best not use her given appellation, Louise Harmon; it's unclear if it's all right to use her known nickname 'The White Midget,' though -- maybe?) is blessed with a tongue-trippingly conversational and appealing flow, accentuated with wry self-deprecation and a preoccupation with the annoying mundanity of teenage life. Which is not to say that Lady Sov is toothless -- her shredding of UK "urban teen sensation" Jentina's train wreck of a song "Bad Ass Strippa," in the wickedly mean-spirited, but hardly cruel diss track "Sad Ass Strippa," just enhanced Lady Sov's reputation for, as the English say, taking the piss when the situation warrants such a thing. And though she didn't grow up in the East London immigrant slums that's home to a large part of the grime scene, she's anything like a pre-fab teen star and her neighborhood in Wembley, North London, wasn't exactly the most posh district either. Lady Sov got her start passing one minute long snippets of her rhymes over the Internet, won freestyle battles over chat programs, and was an underground sensation (working with producer Medasyn and long-time DJ Frampster, laying down non-sequitur-laced rhymes over fat dubby dancehall beats that collided with electro video-game theme glitch -- the trademark sound of grime) for several years before signing to Island/Def Jam in 2005.

Now, this would be a good time to please note that I am avoiding comparing Lady Sovereign to fellow countryman and white-boy MC Mike Skinner of The Streets or Detroit's own Eminem. Such comparisons seem strangely pointless; this is a girl who drinks a lot of Stella Artois (settle down, indie kids -- it's like the PBR of the UK, really), is obsessed with Adidas products, and wears her house keys 'round her neck -- presumably so when she bros down she won't lose them, or maybe it's just her way of mocking the bling factor of hip hop. At any rate, she's got more in common with Missy Elliot's lyrical content and near-neutral yet strikingly sassy sexuality (and it's heartening to hear that Lady Sov will be working with Miss E and Timbaland on her new album) than the young men she's glommed with merely because of her race. And if you must go there, please give a nod to the snotty insouciance of the Beastie Boys instead, rather than with the acidic vitriol of Eminem.

One hopes that Lady Sov's upcoming full-length album won't, as her 2005 EP Vertically Challenged did, omit some of her better songs to save us Yanks the trouble of puzzling out 'foreign' cultural references -- like "Tango" -- an indictment of chavvy girls who use too much fake tan (surely not only an affliction of girls in the UK, but seems to be a common lyrical complaint across the pond) that namechecks UK cell phone network Orange, the Orange Tango Man, and "The Vicar of Dibley." (Got that? Google can help, really.) Or "Hoodie," a track written in response to the calls to ban the "anti-social" activity of wearing a hooded sweatshirt -- as if anyone doing so were automatically a thug. Anyway, part of Lady Sov's charm, for me at least, is her insistence on saying what she thinks, no apologies, while being clever and charming and, well, straight up cheeky about it, cultural differences be damned.

Lady Sovereign - A Little Bit of Shhh (Smallstars Remix feat. Adrock)
Lady Sovereign - Random (Menta Remix feat. Riko)
Lady Sovereign - Hoodie (Alternative Medasyn Radio Mix)
Lady Sovereign - 9 to 5

Lady Sovereign's official website. Buy Vertically Challenged at Amazon or the iTunes Music Store.

Shadows tags:ladysovereign.

Posted by Little Miss Rock'n'Roll on 02.20.06 at 3:01 AM | Comments (1), TrackBack (0)

The Joggers

Listening to the Joggers is kind of like wandering through a garden maze -- freewheeling, confusing, disorienting, but addictive. With roots in both the Dischord/Washington, DC and UK post-punk sounds, the Portland-based band combines throaty, shouty vocals that are bursting with energy, unexpected instrumentation, and nervous flourishes into a mixture of convoluted indie rock. It's nervous, hyper post-punk-inspired rock, with tons of point and counterpoint.

The songs are paradoxes: lovingly sloppy but intensely precise at the same time. With ever-evolving tempo and mood changes, the Joggers never rest on their laurels. Every move they make is overwhelmingly deliberate. Somewhere, the compostional freaks of the world are caressing their vinyl copies of With a Cape and a Cane, pointing out the complex interplays that are occasionally venture into the wilderness. Each song is crammed full of musical ideas and the layered guitars and vocals seem to be in a neverending arms race.

The challenging and complex melodies may not be the most accessible out there, and the jittery hi-hat and obtuse, abrasive guitar lines ultimately reward those who stick around for more than a few minutes with songs like the genuinely odd ballad "Night of the Horsepills."

Just when I thought this genre had been all but played out, the Joggers came along and shook things up. It's the type of music that's automatically loved by record store clerks and blows the minds of freshmen college radio DJs: somehow both danceable and surprisingly cerebral at the same time. And although I can't really dance to the herky-jerky start-and-stop of "We've Been Talked Down" but the chorus pushes the song towards eternal catchiness, and at the very least, I'm doing more than the standing still.

The Joggers - We've Been Talked Down
The Joggers - Since You're Already Up
The Joggers - Night Of The Horsepills
The Joggers - Hot Autism
The Joggers - Blurred Digits

The Joggers' official site. Buy With a Cape and a Cane from Amazon or iTunes Music Store.

Shadows tags: thejoggers.

Posted by Queen of the Front Row on 02.19.06 at 1:28 PM | Comments (0), TrackBack (0)