Carl Sandburg Visits Me In A Dream

You feel that? Yeah, there’s a funky groove in the air and we got to let it percolate.

Tennishero – “Midnight Love”

Smooth as silk synths combined with a captivating riff, Tennishero knows how to do it right.

New Order – “Jetstream (Jacques Lu Cont 2nd Mix)”

Pretty pedestrian mix until you get to about the 1:40 mark, at which the track blossoms into an ethereal, bass-bumping kick ass mix.

2 pairs of British siblings got together some 8 years ago to form what is now an acclaimed indie rock band. Their eponymous debut was received to much fanfare, and for good reason. This was followed by their sophomore release, Those the Brokes, which built on the unique 70s-pop-meets-modern-day-sensibilities sound that they have perfected over the last decade. Which brings me to their latest release The Runaway (out Aug. 3 in the US).

The Magic Numbers have slowed it down a bit for this album, gaining in sentimentality what they lost in cheerful nostalgia. I’m not sure that’s a good thing. See for yourself, with two songs off The Runaway, “Why Did you Call?” and “Sound of Something”.

Listen to “Why Did You Call?”

Listen to “Sound of Something“

The much anticipated 5th LP High Violet from The National dropped back in May, and apparently to great fanfare. It opened at #3 (!) on the US Billboard 200, and garnered an eye-popping 8.7/10 from Pitchfork. Indeed, it seems that the moody rockers have appeared to hit it just right with its listeners, though this writer is not as enthusiastic. The bottom line is this: I was always fine with The National going the way of the downtrodden and dramatic artist, as long as they stuck with intriguing melodies and harmonies that almost belied the lyrics. With High Violet, that element has suredly been lost to some degree.

Briefly, some highlights (and lowlights):

“Terrible Love” – I can this being a single, and it’s true to The National sound. Not exactly my cup of tea, but I could grow into loving it.

“Sorrow” – Queue up the rainy day. Let it fly.

“Anyone’s Ghost” – Meh. The redundant chorus and the lackadaisical instrumentation don’t do it for me.

“Little Faith” – It’s been growing on me. The hovering strings and Berninger’s drawn-out drawl is fantastic.

“Lemonworld” – ‘Gave my heart to the army. Only sentimental thing I could think of.’ Gotta love it.

“Conversation 16″ – Emotive and resilient, but I wasn’t afraid of anyone eating anyone’s brains.

“England” – Urgent, melodic, awesome, epic. This is exactly the sound I was hoping for on High Violet. Lo, behold the mighty horns! Finally, I hear the strings! This song itself makes up for everything on this album.

“Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks” – The slow-rolling ballad perfectly balances the booming drums and the delicate ivory/ebony keys.

Creepy?

Another edition of bits and pieces, where you’ll find random tracks I’ve been listening to lately and that I think you should hear.

Let’s get started!

Royksopp – “So Easy (Live)”

This is the song that hooked me into Royksopp. Aside from being forever grateful to the track, I’ve always had a healthy obsession with any and all versions of the funked out Norwegian tune.

Felix Da Housecat – “Sinnerman 2010”

This is another take on the stupendous “Sinnerman” remix of Nina Simone’s classic that FDH put out a couple years back. Add some breakbeats and enjoy.

Royksopp & Steve Reich – “Electric Counterpoint: III. Fast (Röyksopp True To Original Edit)”

A not-so-unlikely combo here, as Royksopp chilly vibes mesh well with Reich’s incessant minimalist tendencies.

__________. That’s the space everyone gets for telling me that the following album came out almost a year ago. Now that it’s out of your system, hear me out for a couple of paragraphs.

I’ve had a long time love affair with Zero 7. Aside from the intriguing hooks and genre-breaking endeavors, the wide array of guest singers that have appeared on their albums have been the most captivating of all. Yeah Ghost came out last October, and to mixed reviews. Lead instrumental track “Count Me Out” starts out inconspicuous (or is it mysterious) enough, giving way to the frantic “Mr McGee” that seems more suited for top 40 R&B treatment than an electronic downtempo album. “Swing” brings the listener back to a familiar place, with Binki Shapiro deftly adding her nonchalant vocals over steel drums and hand claps. The lead single “Everything Up (Zizou)”pays homage to famous French soccer star Zinedine Zidane (don’t worry, this song doesn’t headbutt you), and features Henry Binns (half of the Zero 7 duo) singing himself over soft ‘la-la’s” and a guitar that seems to run in place. Nevertheless, it’s Martha Tilston’s appearance on “Pop Art Blue” that highlights the album; the sultry, soft clarity of her voice is as warm as the bouncing bass and sprawling guitar.

The funky synths under the silky stylings of Eska Mtungwazi are only outdone by the comical choruses of ‘simply outrageous’, but the creepy-not-mysterious “Ghost Symbol” and the nonsensical “Sleeper” don’t do much to keep the album on track. Nevertheless, the short-lived and apt-named “Solastalgia” (for the reference, click here) is a 2 minutes of pure instrumental gold that will have you thinking Fleet Foxes was invited to play on the track. Rounding out the album is the oh-so-soulful Mtungwazi singing over the wondrously delicate keyboard on “The Road”.

Get a copy of Yeah Ghost.

Listen to “Pop Art Blue”

Listen to “The Road“

Jimmy LaValle, the man behind the music of The Album Leaf, isn’t exactly what I’d call a storyteller. In fact, it wasn’t until a few years ago that LaValle and company actually sang on their records. The popular belief is that if you don’t have lyrics to your songs, then you’re either a jam band or you’re making eclectic ambience/lounge music. Now I’m not going to charge The Album Leaf with such generalizations, but I will write briefly about their latest EP A Chorus of Storytellers.

For me, this album typifies the ‘hit-or-miss’ genre of electronic music. Some songs immediately strike a chord with the listener, while others seem to languish and falter in their transmission. Take for example “Blank Pages”: it’s a melancholy day at some French cafe and the rain is beating down outside. I can see the appeal, but it’s not something I can queue up anytime. Contrast that with the next song on the album “There is a Wind”, a coherent electropop track that has a cheerful lightness that gives it volume. The erratic “Within Dreams” gets wrangled in by the strudel-sweet strings that enter in at about 1:50, while “Stand Still” starts the listener off at the top of a daunting set of stairs and slowly walks her down. The repetition of “Until the Last” drags the listener into a lull, only to be wonderfully awoken by the soft horns and triumphant pianos of a new day. “Almost There” has an unmistakable radio-friendly kitsch, from the skipping drums to the shoegaze vocals.

Get a copy of A Chorus of Storytellers.

Listen to “There is a Wind”

Listen to “Almost There“

Something just doesn’t add up.

Sure, it all starts out innocently enough. Husband and wife duo Patrick Riley and Alaina Moore form a band called Tennis. And they’re from Denver (seems exotic in the music industry). Their name? Riley used to be the No. 2 tennis player in the state. See, something just doesn’t make sense.

They make beautiful music together: Easy, breezy (beautiful, covergirl–anyone get this reference?) 60s pop that was conceived on the high seas (courtesy of Denver Westword):

Spurred by a seven-month sailing trip the two took together on the Eastern seaboard, the couple, started writing songs as “sort of a soundtrack for our experiences,” she explains. After meeting in college, the twosome pulled together money (“inspired by the fact that we had both grown up landlocked,” she notes) and bought an old sailboat in Florida, and then hit the high seas until the money ran out and they landed back in Denver

And I have a little gift for you, from Tennis. Well, kind of. It’s not really from them as so much as it is by them. If you like She & Him, if you like Candie Payne, then you’re going to enjoy the faux lo-fi sound of Tennis. “Marathon” is a doo-wop ditty that will make even the most brash a newborn dilettante. “South Carolina” begins delicately enough, but blossoms into a semi-breakbeat that belies the cute-as-a-button sound. Sure, it may not all add up, but I don’t really care. If it sounds good and rings true, I say keep it comin’.

Listen to “Marathon”

Listen to “South Carolina“