New Music Monday: Jim James, Adam Yauch and My Happy Place

Let me start the week right, with good tidings after the reanimated zombie Jesus celebration.  I trust you all ate lots of candy and got something good in your Easter basket.  If not, it's not big deal.  There's always next year.  I think we can all agree that this holiday is kind of ridiculous so I'm not going to devote any more time to it.  If you want to know what I REALLY think about Easter, you can find out here.

So here we are, summer virtually at our doorsteps banging down the door.  The flowers are blooming and the clothes are getting smaller and thinner to accommodate warmer temperatures.  Festival season is upon us and I caught up on a few Coachella sets.  The Black Keys, as always, burned the place down and The National were lively.  Kings of Leon was pretty much locked down as always, but nothing too impressive.  After watching those, I realized that in the next few months there are quite a few new albums coming out that I'm completely excited about.  MMJ is out soon, Wilco is coming up. Explosions in the Sky, The Flaming Lips, Bon Iver all have new stuff set to release, as well.  One of the biggest releases for me is the release of Hot Sauce Committee Pt. 2 by Beastie Boys.

I know that not everybody is quite as excited as I am about this, but that's ok.  I won't hold your lack to taste against you at all.  But, for me, Beastie Boys have a special place in my musical library.  I have just about everything they've ever done from the punk stuff on Aglio e Olio  to random imports from Japan and the U.K.  They remind me of how fun music an be.  I have a tendency to get really "heady" when I listen to music, getting obsessive about lyrics and song constructions.  I let myself get mired in the details of a song, so much so that I sometimes forget to step back and just smile at the sounds that leave the speakers and meander across the room to my ears.

We all have those songs . . .those songs that remind us to stop thinking and just get lost in the music.  One of those songs happens to by "I Needed it Most," by MMJ.  There's a simplicity and honesty to the song that just gets to me every time.  I stare off into space, attempting to keep the smile form creeping across my face, but I can't.  I hear Jim belt it out . . ."I needed it mooooooost . . . ." and I'm there.  It's a perfect moment in music that I can't, no matter how hard I try, get past.  No matter how bad of a mood I may be in before the song, by the end of it that mood has dissipated into the atmosphere, gone, and I'm left with a simple smile and a tiny reminder of how good music can break your heart (like Barber's "Adagio for Strings") or make your day.  Beastie Boys were the very first band/group that just made me smile.

It all started on a summer day in 1986 . . .I'm kidding.  I'm not going to bore you with nostalgia, but I will say that no matter where I've been, I've taken Mike D, Ad Rock and MCA with me.  I've traveled quite a bit to different countries and no matter where I happened to be, I always had two things in my possession: 1.) a copy of "On the Road" by Jack Kerouac and 2.) a copy of Ill Communication by Beastie Boys.  At the time, iPods had yet to hit the market, but I had this shock-proof, water-proof Sony Discman that wouldn't skip as I was making my way through the streets of London or Berlin or Rome or wherever I happened to be.  It was easy.  I went to a boarding school in England and travel was easy.  Just grab a backpack, my book, cd and discman and hit the bricks.  Headphones covering my ears, Ill Communication was the vagabond soundtrack to my travels.  Incidentally, I soon discovered that the headphones that British Airways provided on their flights were the best damn headphones in the world.  The bass was deep and the sound was just full as all hell.  Needless to say, I would always nick a few when I was on a flight.  Sue me, I was a teenager.  That's me on the right and my pal, Dodge on the left.  Don't ask me what I was doing, but you can ask me what was playing in the background . . .Beastie Boys.  Who else?

A couple of years have passed since this photo was taken.  I've graduated from high school and college and my musical palate has gotten more complicated with my discovery of the blues and outlaw country like Waylon Jennings and Johnny Cash.  If you scroll through my musical library you'll find tons of stuff that doesn't really go together.  You'll find Beach House and Band of Horses, but you'll also find Deftones and Rage Against the Machine.  You'll find Tribe Called Quest and Gang Starr.  You'll find classical music and electronic stuff, as well.  So much music that, at times, I have to actually REMOVE stuff from my iPod.  Some things get shuffled off to make room for whatever I'm feeling on a given day.  There are, however, things that NEVER leave my iPod.  Jim James and the boys never leave.  The Black Keys never leave . . .and Beastie Boys will NEVER leave.

I know that I didn't actually introduce any new music this week, but don't worry, I'll make it up to you next week.  In the meantime, get ready for all the great albums coming out and, because I care about each and every one of you, I'm leaving you with what is, perhaps, the greatest video I've ever seen in my entire life.

Beastie Boys - Make Some Noise - Free Music Videos - Top Songs

Stay frosty, boys and girls.

chris

New Music Monday: Oasis, and Everything After

Over the weekend, I had to endure the Rockies beating up on the Cubs and my beloved Manchester United falling to Manchester City 1 - 0.  "Why," you may wonder am I going on about sports when I should be talking about music?  Well, I like the Cubs, so eat me.  I also spent quite a bit of time in the U.K., having gone to a boarding school there.  While I was there, I learned a lot of things.  For example, I learned how to cheat at soccer.  I also learned that I'm dangerous with a nine iron, having clocked my pal, Dodge in the head twice . . .in the same round of golf.  Depending on how you look at that one, I'm either deadly good or horrifically bad.  I'm going with the first option as a means of soothing any doubts I may have about my golf game.

Something else I learned in Britain is the power of a song, the power of a single song to really make a crowd stop and listen for a moment, then raise their glasses together and belt out every single syllable of a song.  My experience with this began in old school English pubs with cool names, like "The Antelope" and "The White Lion."  Even before we were legal  to drink there, we still got in.  I never had a problem walking into a pub and getting a pint.  It could be my smooth charm or the fact that I've been 6'3" since I was fourteen.  Basically, I was just bigger than everyone else.  Not that I was fat or anything, I was just tall and usually seemed a little older than I really was.  So, my young liver was about to get a serious introduction to alcohol.  I exercised it like it was a muscle and, pint after pint, it got stronger and stronger.  To this day if I go out with friends they tell me that I can't have eaten anything because if I have, there would be no buzzed Chris, just the one that smiles a little more.

So, as I'm training my liver for the Alcohol Olympics, I also get exposed to this sort of pub tradition that involves everyone singing together.  I'm not talking campfire songs or anything like that, but the patrons would hear a random song and all the sudden, break out into a beer hazed sing-a-long.  THIS, boys and girls, is how I became an Oasis fan.

We always popped into the pub for a beer or twenty because we could.  Like the rest of the Brits, it was less of a party atmosphere and more of an excuse for us sit back and down a few pints in a fairly calm setting.  There we were, having a pint of Guiness or, for me, it was usually Carlsberg.  This place is, by no means, packed, but there are enough people there that it seemed festive enough to not worry about laughing too loud.  It was then that I heard it.  Noel's opening chords just sort of whispered through the air and the pub got completely silent and as soon as Liam's raspy voice belts out the first lyrics, "today is gonna be the day that they're gonna throw it back to you . . ." the entire pub raises their glasses and sings along.  THE ENTIRE PUB RAISES THEIR GLASSES AND SINGS ALONG.  Bartender, patrons . . .I think people passing by the door poked their heads into sing, as well.  I sat there, looking around in amazement.  Everything stopped and for the duration of the song, about four minutes, not a single person in that pub was different.  They were all the same, singing the same song, laughing and smiling for no other reason than the simple fact that a song was playing.  "Wondewall" by Oasis made them happy, totally happy for a few minutes out of what could have been a totally horrible day.  For those few minutes, a song made people happy and THAT, made me happy as well.

Great bands have come out of the U.K. throughout history.  You automatically think of The Beatles and the Stones.  Clapton is British, so he counts.  The Sex Pistols, David Bowie, Queen and The Clash based their music on their working class roots and inspired an entire generation to raise their arms and salute the world with one finger.  The 80's came along and saw tons of great bands leave the grey British weather behind and "invade" the U.S.  Bands like U2, The Police, Tears for Fears, Genesis, The Smiths, The Cure . . .the list is too long to keep going, but you get my drift.  Perhaps the kings of British music, Radiohead have been and will continue to be one of my all time favorite bands, so I think it's pretty safe to say that there's a wealth of talent in Britain.

This week's band, Flashguns is no exception.  They are inherently British, and if you've spent any amount of time there, you can spot a Brit from a mile away.  Even their names sound British, but this three-piece of Sam Johnston (vocals,guitar), Olly Scanlon (bass) and Giles Robinson (drums) somehow manage to incorporate the sounds of all the bands I mentioned above while putting their own jangly sound to the lyrics that are very heartfelt and sometimes bordering on Joy Division dark.  Take, for example, the song, "Bells at Midnight."  The intro could easily be confused with an early song by the Cure.  It's upbeat, but buried in the pop tinged sound are lyrics like, "a figure of fun for you, i never put a foot out of line for you, seems like a hell of a thing to do."  There's this quiet foreboding side to the songs that draws you in and the vast difference in the music and the lyrics give you the sense that something bigger is building. . . and it is.

By far, the one song that truly hooked me to these guys is a seven minute, dusty floor romp called, "Racing Race."  This song just simmers and simmers on the seemingly slow motion pace to the guitar and the drums.  Sam's wail just sits on top of the song giving it a desperate feel and, as the song progresses, so, too does this unidentified feeling of uncertainty.  The song seems to end about four minutes in, but just seems to drag on giving off this tension that's beyond description.  Sam's voice fades to the background, as if he's screaming at you from the distance and the song just meanders into this quicksand pace, just slowly fading into your speakers.  After I heard it, I just leaned back in my seat, stared at the ceiling for a minute, then played it again.  Because I care, I've provided you with the song.

Flashguns - Racing Race by Flashguns

I'll stop rambling now.  I have a tendency to do that when I'm trying to figure something out.  Check the guys out at all the regular social media spots:

Facebook

MySpace

Twitter

Until next week . . .

chris

New Music Monday: Road Tripping Through the South

I've been on the road for the better part of a week now, zig zagging my way across the highways and interstates of the Southeastern part of the U.S.  As I sit here typing this, I'm in an interesting little town called Englewood, FL in a house with walls that are the color of Ralph Macchio's car in "My Cousin Vinny."  That's right, boys and girls.  These walls are a gorgeous shade of sea foam green and some of the furniture even matches the walls.  It's almost like Ben & Jerry threw up mint chocolate chip ice cream all over this place.  BUT, even though I'm staring at these walls, battling an undeniable urge for ice cream, I'm in Florida.  FLORIDA. . .where the sun is shining and the beach is right over there (you can't see me, but I'm pointing to a place that I would walk to from here).

On my way to Englewood, I passed through the Florida panhandle to visit one of my oldest and best friends in the world, Teeka.  Over a three day, two night period in Pensacola, FL we drank.  Then we drank some more.  Then way played darts and drank.  Then we did shots, played darts and drank.  Then we drank more.  Then we ate sushi and walked around a mall only to head back to her place to drink some more.  Then it was rinse and repeat for the Braves/Phillies game and the Cubs/Brewers game where my Cubs commenced to taking the opening game of the three game set (but dropped the next two) and my pal Chad and I drank and got loud.  At some point during the game, we were so desperate to get rid of some guy that we simply heard his comments, nodded, shotgunned a beer and split for more.  The weird thing was that this Raiders fan was arguing about the 80's rollerblading movie, "Airborn."  If you don't know it, look it up.  Jack Black and Seth Green have small parts in it, but this guy was quoting the movie and bets were made.  Yeah, it was that kind of moment in the night where you ask yourself if drinking at this particular spot is actually worth it. 

We thought it was worth it, so we I decided that I would stand up, kick the raiders fan in the junk and yell, "THIS IS SPARTA."  He dropped to his knees, gasping for air and Chad said, "Holy Cow," in the vocal styling of Harry Carey.  He high fived me and I shouted "Cubs win, Cubs win!" and we ordered another pitcher of beer.  Ok, maybe the simple assault I described above didn't really happen, but the longer this douche nozzle talked, the more it was slowly becoming a reality.  Luckily, no assaults were perpetuated that night, but the Cubs won and we drank enough to make Charlie Sheen and Nick Nolte proud.  

So, I told you all of that because it occurred to me that roadtrips and music have an inherent symbiosis.  Each makes the other more fun because, let's be honest, blasting MMJ's "At Dawn" while you doing 75 down Interstate 10 makes life worth living.  A roadtrip without music is like flying British Airways sober.  Each is impossible, so you belt out the lyrics to each song that comes on as you navigate the highway and your iPod. You sing along with Jim James, then you sing along with Dan Auerbach, then you sing along with Howlin' Wolf as loud as you can and the task of getting to a destination that's six hours away by car seems to be nothing more than a mobile sing-a-long with the musicians that you love.

This week I'm finally going to talk about The Boom Bang.  I say finally because I've been sort of sitting on this band for a few weeks now.  "Why?" you might ask. . .I have no idea really.  I've just been trying to get to all the music that crosses my path, and I'm finally getting to this band.  They sound like a tornado of surf music that gets played in some guy's garage, mixed with a hint of punk sentimentality.  Pause for a second and wrap your head around that combination of sounds. . .

Welcome back.  So, now you have an idea of what James Smith (vocals), Tommie McKenzie (guitar), Weston Lawrence (bass), and Charles Whetstone (drums) throw at you on their debut, World War Fun.  The Oklahoma foursome defy any single genre to make music that sounds like a garage band that plays loudly on the beach, then drinks more beer than you only to play more in the sand.  If the Beach Boys had a head on collision with Death From Above 1979, the resulting carnage would be The Boom Bang.  From the opening fuzz of "Ahh . . .Fresh Monsters," you realize that you're going to be riding along with a the sound of uncontrollable fun and there isn't a single disappointing song on the album.  Knowing that these guys are from the Oklahoma City area makes them the absolute best thing to come out of OKC since Wayne Coyne and his circus of The Flaming Lips.  Is that compliment too generous?  Nope.  Not a bit.  The album standouts are, "Skateboard Devito," "Tobacular," and the Dick Dale'esque "Drive Inn."

Check the boys out above and if you're in Pensacola any time soon, find the bar, The Ticket No. 2 and stop in for a drink or ten.  Ask for Teeka and tell her that I sent you.  She'll smile because she has good taste in friends.  

Until next weeks boys and girls . . ..

chris

New Music Monday - A Port in the Storm

It's funny how a little warm weather throws us into a whirlwind fever for more activity. There's something about Spring that somehow just injects a little more energy into us. I'm not above the feeling either. The weather warms up a little and all I want to do is sit outside in the sun, music blaring and a beer in my hand.

I don't know about you, but warm weather also has a certain celebratory soundtrack. The default cold weather tunes take an immediate back seat to more upbeat, festive songs that automatically fit my energetic mood. The sounds of cool weather seem to become temporarily less appealing, taking a back seat to different sounds. For example, I'm a big fan of Easy Star All Stars during the summer because they just seem to fit the weather.

If you're not familiar with this band, go check them out. They do an absolutely brilliant cover of “Karma Police.”

This week, I've got a bit of up tempo stuff from a band that is not, in any way, new to music. Their seventh studio album, yes SEVENTH, is due out June 11^th on the Champagne, IL based label, Polyvinyl (who also provides homes for some great artists like Deerhoof and Owen) and 31 Knots is a perfect band with which you can usher in the warming temperatures you feel outside.

Formed in Chicago in 1997, the three piece, Joe Haege (guitar, vocals), Joe Pellicci (drums) and Jay Winebrenner (bass) relocated to Portland, OR and the rest is history.

I sat listening for awhile, just drawn into the playful nature of the songs. The rhythms are complex and Haege has a scattered, frantic style of guitar that reminds me very much of a band that they've played with before (and one of my favorites), Modest Mouse. But that's not the only comparison I would make.

If Modest Mouse got really drunk and grew hipster mustaches and somehow had a baby with some trendy girl called Vampire Weekend, THAT is what 31 Knots would really sound like. Songs like “Candles on Open Water” (below) and “A Lot Can Tell” really take hold on the Afro inspired beats that make Vampire Weekend seem like Paul Simon's wannabe little brother. 31 Knots, on the other hand, make the sound all their own, casting aside any trend riddled sounds for the fuller, more aggressive Josh Homme (Queens of the Stone Age, Them Crooked Vultures) inspired heavy drinking guitars and rolling drums in the schizophrenic, “Love in the Mean of Heat.”

If this sounds remotely appealing, head on over to Polyvinyl and check them out. You can stream lots of stuff and even pre-order the upcoming album, or just buy previous releases, both of which I strongly encourage.  They've been a breath of fresh air for me over the last few days.

 

One more thing this week. I heard this band (who I later found out was just one guy) on some random website. I really don't know much about him and have yet to hear back from any of my inquiries, but I thought I'd share. Flashing Red Lights has a dreamy, atmospheric sound that just seems to float around you as you listen. Go get these two songs. They're free.  I'll keep my fingers crossed that I find out more info.  I really want to hear more of this guy's stuff.

New Music Monday - Dear Pinetop . . .

There are a few things in this world that I truly covet.  I covet the Cubs.  I covet the career of Cal Ripken, Jr.  I covet the writing of Kerouac and Fitzgerald.  And, this should come as no surprise, I covet music.  More than anything, I covet music that comes from the heart, music that embodies a polaroid snapshot in a person's life.  In my seemingly infinite quest to reduce music to it's purest form, to its essence, I always come back to the blues, to songs written by men who encountered hardship on a daily basis because, when you put it into context, you realize that these guys couldn't go to "whites only" restaurants or water fountains.  They recorded music at a time when they were seen as second class citizens, a time when Jim Crow dictated their participation in the public forum.  Despite all the roadblocks, they still made music.  They played in tiny bars throughout the south that were lovingly referred to as, "jukes."  They cut records then went back to the fields where they were simply sharecroppers.  But, all that aside, they made music that not only endured, but laid the foundations for every single sound, every single song, every single thing that's considered American music today.

The blues is, in every possibly aspect of the word, the beginning of music for me.  Without the blues, there is no Rolling Stones. There is no Doors.  There is no Zeppelin, no Aerosmith, no AC/DC, no Stevie Ray Vaughn, no Bob Dylan, no Springsteen, no Otis Redding or Public Enemy . . . for me, the blues is the absolute genesis of music as I know it today and this past week, March 21st, to be exact, the world lost a disciple of American music in Pinetop Perkins.

Pinetop Perkins died March 21st, 2011 at the ripe old age of 97.  His age never stopped him as he'd just won a Grammy for Best Traditional Blues Album.  For a man born July 7, 1913 in Belzoni, Mississippi, Pinetop was the undeniably perfect example of the blues.  He spent more than a decade playing and touring with Muddy Waters and is, for all intents and purposes, the raison d'etre, the standard for any piano player in music today.  To put it quite simply, Pinetop played the hell out of a piano.  I don't care who you are, you can't deny his impact on the world of music.  Without him, there never would have been a Little Richard.  There never would have been a Ray Charles.  There never would have been a Jerry Lee Lewis or a Stevie Wonder.  That's how important this man is to music, not to mention, he was probably one of TWO living people that actually knew Robert Johnson (the other being David "Honeyboy" Edwards).  

We lost a legend, a TRUE legend, and that deserves a moment of our time.  Rest in peace, Pinetop.  The world lost you, but we'll never lose your music.

The loss of Pinetop and and short twitter exchange I had with a friend really inspired this weeks music.  My friend, the one and only Penelope Quick, is expecting her first child, a girl that she's so lovingly named Hallie Grace, after her mom and her best friend.  The day that Pinetop died, we mentioned the blues and the musical education of her unborn daughter.  She said, via Twitter, about Pinetop: "His piano skills were boss but I loved the gravel in his voice. I wish more young people appreciated this era of musicians."  I mentioned a few other blues players and she came back with this, "& RL Burnside, Muddy Waters, Howlin Wolf... I'm definitely feeling a Baby Blues Mix. A playlist for my fetus. Yeah....," and I immediately began thinking of how i would introduce someone to what I consider the basis for all music today, the blues.

I'm sure that if you ask anyone who you consider to be, "in the know" about music" to name a blues song that they can.  They'll mention Stevie Ray Vaughn because he was popular.  The might even mention a song like, "The Sky is Crying," because it was just the absolute epitome of the blues.  What they wouldn't mention, probably because they were too ignorant to actually do their homework, is that Stevie Ray Vaughn was borrowing a song or "covering" a song that was recorded by Elmore James in 1960.  THAT is what gets me about people.  Know what your listening to.  Know the importance of each and every song because THAT is what gives us the grand idea of music.

With that, I put together a little blues for you.  Have at it.

"I'm a King Bee" - Slim Harpo (1957)

This song is simply perfect, so much so that The Rolling Stones saw fit to cover it and include it on their debut album.

"Devil Got My Woman" - Skip James (1968)

Simply put, Skip James was a D-minor genius who recorded music in the 1930's, disappeared, then reappeared in the 1960's, in the middle of a "folkie movement" that he absolutely abhorred.  

"My Time is Expensive" - Slim Harpo

Probably more famous for his song, "The Things I Used to Do," Harpo recorded music that, early in his career, was produced by and up and coming musician named Ray Charles.  

"I Can't Quit You Baby" - Otis Rush (1956)

The song was written by the legendary Willie Dixon and was revered so much by Robert Plant and Jimmy Page that they covered it for their self-titled debut in 1969

"All Your Love" - Magic Sam (1957)

Chicago was never the same after, what some consider to be the "trinity" of the Chicago blues was spawned with Otis Rush, Magic Sam, and the icon Buddy guy reinvented the blues.

"Call It Stormy Monday" - T-Bone Walker (1947)

"Classic" isn't enough word for this song.  Just ask guitar legends like Albert King and Eric Clapton. They recorded covers because it's that damn good.

"Juke" - Little Walter (1952)

Recorded when Little Walter was only 22 years old, "Juke" has become the standard for the harmonica, PERIOD.

"The Sky is Crying" - Elmore James (1960)

The song is, to put it mildly, 12 bar brilliance.  Most people associate this song with Stevie Ray Vaughn, but Albert King got there before SRV. Elmore delivers a masterpiece, plain and simple.  SRV was great, but Elmore made it all possible.

So, for Pinetop and the unborn Hallie Grace . . .I put together some blues for you.  Some you'll know and some you may not.  

DOWNLOAD - Volume 1

DOWNLOAD - Volume 2

So, at a time when we lose a legend, we're graced with new life.  Listen to your mom, Hallie Grace.  The woman has good taste.

New Music Monday - Feeling Like Spring . . .

It's starting to feel a bit like spring outside.  It seems as if winter has left the building and it's about time.  It's almost like March Madness drove winter into a whole somewhere.  This is probably the only time of the year that I will keep a television on constantly.  It doesn't matter that my team isn't in the tournament.  It's just the excitement of the "one and done" tournament atmosphere.  Win and keep playing.  Lose . . .and you're done, going home until next year.  You may like basketball and you may not, but you can't deny the built in excitement.  Anyway, enough about sports . . .

Do you ever get obsessed with a song, obsessed the point that you listen to it over and over and over?  Well, I have and I still do.  It doesn't even have to be a new song, just a random song in general.  For the last few days, I've really only listened to two songs.  For me, that's just crazy talk.  Two songs?  That's it?  Yep . . .just two.  Normally, I"m all over the musical map in the course of a single day.  I'll meander through an album, then jump to another, back and forth, covering a lot of ground genre-wise.  I may start the day with Pete Yorn then jump to Blackstar.  After that, it's on to The Black Keys, then Buddy Guy (if you're not familiar, check out the video and you'll see why both Hendrix and Clapton were such big fans. Check out Buddy's Blues (Chess 50th Anniversary Collection) for the old school stuff, and Sweet Tea for more recent recordings) and maybe even ending up with Jamey Johnson or Shooter Jennings (true outlaw country that would make Waylon Jennings and Johnny Cash proud ) and so on.  You get the picture.

I've been obsessed with these two songs:

I'm thoroughly convinced that The National can do no wrong . . .period.

For some odd reason, this song just popped in my head the other night.  Deftones happen to have done quite a few amazing covers and this is definitely one of them.

Ok . . .enough rambling.  This weeks band is pretty damn good, so let's get to it.


It's hard to imagine that California Wives basically began as a side project for Jayson Kramer (vocals, keys, guitar), Dan Zima (vocals, bass, guitar), Hans Michel (guitar, keys) and Joe O'Connor (drums), but they quickly realized they had something between them, something cohesive . . .something that just made perfect sense (none of the California Wives are actually wives . . .or even women for that matter).  Combining two things that I dearly love, music and Chicago, California Wives produce a sound that could easily be compared to The Police or New Order.  As a huge fan of The Police, I'M IN!!  There's also an element of their sound that could easily be compared to Nada Surf.  Somewhere in the melodies and the hooks are stirring, beautifully written songs that somehow just float through your ears long enough for you to get lost in them with an ease that's not seen in music much anymore.

Their EP, "Affair" is five songs that really capture the bands dynamic.  Sandwiched between the rousing beach worth opener, "Blook Red Youth" and the absolutely perfect bookend, "Photolights," are three additional songs that sound like they could provide the soundtrack to the changing of winter to spring.  Fitting, considering the weather, huh?  These songs are each perfect examples of how music an sound warm and inviting without being some sort of unbearably cheesy Don Ho version of what good music can be.  This band deserves to be heard, so buy their EP and let everyone you know who appreciates music have a listen.

You can find California Wives on Facebook, MySpace and on Twitter and on their Official website, where you can also stream the EP, "Affair."

Spread the word, boys and girls.

chris

p.s. i've had the pleasure of posting some guest playlists on one word titles.  if you'd like to so one, let me know.  i always love knowing what others are listening to and this is the perfect opportunity.  email me HERE if you'd like more info!

New Music Monday - Back Again . . .

How often do we hear songs and say, “I like that . . .I wonder who sings it,” only to forget all about it, later discounting it as something that probably sucked anyway? I'm guilty of it . . .I know I am. I'm also guilty of going through music like a madman, like it's my crack or something (cause it kinda is, to be honest), but it really can't be helped. Music, for the most part, is the one time when my head is clear, when my brain slows down long enough to seriously focus on something for longer than a few minutes.

What that does is make me so ridiculously aware of what I'm hearing that I immediately start seeing this musical family tree in my head. “This song sounds like X and the drums in this song remind me of Y.” There are some times, however, when a band or musician just sort of draws you in slowly, song by song, lulling you into a trance that infects your ears without your knowledge. It just floats around your head like a cloud that blocks out the sunshine so you can see on a summer day or like a warm blanket when you're shivering from the cold.

For me, it always starts with a voice. It could be Jim James on “I Needed It Most,” or Sam Beam on " My Lady's House,” or Paul Banks (Interpol) halfway mumbling, “I wish I could eat the salt off of your lost faded lips,” from Obstacle 1 in this baritone voice that's filled with this desperation that you can't help but keep listening . . .song after song, it's there . . .this simple emotion that somehow shines through a stranger's voice.  Never is it more gut wrenching and beautiful as it is when Kurt Cobain belts out the words to "Where Did You Sleep Last Night" closing out their Unplugged session.  Just listen . . .towards the end of the song, the pain is palpable.  You can FEEL the pain in his stomach.

These four voices also represent some seriously distinct voices, not to be confused with anyone else.  That, boys and girls, leads me to this week's artist/band.

A three piece from Gothenburg, Sweden, Junip is the cumulation of the musical talents of Tobias Winterkorn (keyboards), Elias Araya (drums) and Jose Gonzalez (guitars,vocals).  Some of you may recognize Gonzalez. He took the reprehensible song "Heartbeats" by The Knife and made it his own, just him and a guitar.  If you haven't heard the original by The Knife, go listen.  I'm not going to lie to you.  I HATED this song when I first heard it.  As I listened, I wanted to shove sharpened pencils (number two, of course) up my nose and slam my head on the desk.  Alas, I think too much of myself to actually go through with horrible music induced suicide, so I suffered through the song.  It was only after hearing Gonzalez's version did I actually appreciate the original.  Now, the song is just a novelty . . .it makes me smile.  

I bought Veneer, the solo effort by Gonzalez, and was immediately hooked.  The more I listened, the more his voice just stuck with me.  So, the more I heard, the more I wanted to hear.  That, like so many other things, led me to Google to find out more.  That's when I discovered his band, Junip, which had been around since the late nineties. 

How in the world had I missed this band?  How had I missed such a distinctive voice?  However it happened, I missed it and I missed big.  When I finally got what I wanted, I was happy.  I bought the EPs to go along with Veneer and delved into this music.  I listened and listened trying to place the voice I was hearing.  It reminded me of someone, but I couldn't place it.  Then it hit me.  It faintly reminded me of the god of soft rock, Christopher Cross (yes, i just mentioned christopher cross.  i'm THAT good.) and, despite what you might think, it DID NOT deter me in the least, but I digress.

Time passed and I moved on, listening to other bands and periodically revisiting Veneer . . .all the while, checking in Junip to see what they were up to.  They released two EPs, but to be quite honest, the success of Venner probably hindered the development of Junip so there was never a full length release.   While Veneer was selling a million albums, Araya spent a few years studying art in Finland and Norway while Winterkorn busied himself as a teacher and constructed his own studio for personal recordings.  Gonzalez would go on to release his second solo album, In Our Nature, and when his solo responsibilities were over, it was time for Junip to do something.

The result of all this time and effort is Fields, a band produced album full of hazy, psyche folk that somehow manages to incorporate African inspired beats and soul (Araya's mother is Ethopian), Winterkorn's heady keys and Gonzalez's quietly seductive voice.  The album is great.  For a band that spent the last half decade doing their own things, respectively, Fields is tight without being preachy or overly technical.  Tracks like "To the Grain" with it's Massive Attack inspired drums (see "Teardrops"), the tension laden "Without You" and "In Every Direction" (this version, filmed at KEXP is AWESOME) weave softly textured journey through the album.

Bottom line: I love this album.  I've caught myself going back obsessively listening to each song, picking out parts that I like, then going back and listening over and over.  To me, that's the sign of a great album.

Go get the album and their previous EPs, along with Gonzalez's two solo albums.  You won't be disappointed in the least.

Be good, boys and girls. . .and if you can't be good, be good at it.

chris