Punch Brothers cover The Cars

I hate to re-blog as the first thing in a short while, but here's something excellent from the Punch Brothers and the wunderkinds at the A.V. Club. Enjoy!



Punch Brothers cover The Cars

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Birdy - Birdy

Spotify is quite possibly the internet's best, craftiest, music marketing device. Yes, it's also a delightful, wonderful and exceptional music playing, seeking and loving platform, but Spotify wants you to check out what it wants you to check out. While pondering a review of the Shins' newest Port of Morrow, a great album in its own right, but one that you'll like if you like the Shins or dislike if you don't, Spotify pushed Birdy's (15 year-old Brit Jasmine van den Bogaerde) new album titled Birdy into my ad-susceptible face. The pitch there was that Birdy covers Bon Iver's "Skinny Love" and being the sucker for covers that I am--Oh fuck, I'm a sucker for covers!--I decided to give the album a look. Turns out, van den Bogaerde/Birdy is pretty damn good. Within Birdy she covers Phoenix's "1901," Fleet Foxes' "White Winter Hymnal," The Postal Service's "The District Sleeps Alone," and James Taylor's "Fire and Rain." Birdy does each song justice in a way, but as is the problem with the dearth of covers brought to us by the internet, these songs don't change very much. That's not always a problem, but paradoxically, it also always is a problem.

Birdy's smooth, airy, pure voice is a joy to listen to. She evokes pain and sweetness in each held note. But, she also takes little in the way of chances here. Now, she's 15. And who am I to judge her work? It's remarkable that she so confidently and fully sings each of these tracks, but I would trade the purity of her voice for some more risk. Each of those key covers sound like slower versions of the originals. It's the same problem that struck in the AV Club's second cover of 2012's AV Undercover when Memoryhouse covers the Police's "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic." It's not bad, but it doesn't add anything to the song. Or to the experience. Being able to sing does not a rock star/musician make. We've had years of American Idol winners who GO NOWHERE to prove that fact. Birdy does great work with "The District Sleeps Alone Tonight," but otherwise, the music is an exercise in re-hearing the already heard. The best covers flip a song over and teach it some new tricks; see the Sex Pistols' "My Way," Lou Barlow's "Round and Round," and Johnny Cash's "I Hung My Head" for examples.

Birdy is enjoyable, and emotionally wrought, though, and that makes it a worthwhile listen and a great album. If nothing else, this is a promising glimpse into what van den Bogaerde can do. The songs are all winners. And her turn on them, sad, sometimes jazzy, sometimes with a breathy indie dream-pop flutter, works. The judgements I make above are more about covers than about Birdy's execution. It's a larger issue that either one must do it as good as the original, or make it one's own. With Birdy there are moments that teeter on the edge of either one, but never seem to redefine the original text. It's a pleasant, kinda, sweet, heartfelt and enjoyable listen, but these covers won't supplant their source materials.

Listen to the album on Spotify here: Birdy – Birdy

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Sharon Van Etten - Tramp

Ever since I saw Sharon Van Etten on the AV Club's AV Undercover performing the Fine Young Cannibals' "She Drives Me Crazy," I've been enamored. Van Etten's slow, wistful, and sad, but charming delivery on that cover evoked full and pure passion, the kind that one can only recreate with experience in lost love and confusion. With Tramp, Van Etten assembles an album that reaches new heights in frankness, earnestness, and beauty. All these characteristics are most elemental on "Give Out" where Van Etten sings the lines: "You're the reason why I'll move to the city/ Or why I'll need to leave." It's a case of pure honesty, and a case where, as a listener, you have that "I should have thought of that!" moment. The peppier, but folksy "Serpents" discusses change, in people, and how we're never simply standing still. But, the delicate "Kevin's" is the album's deeply heartfelt love letter. It's a sultry piece of desire and heartbreak and loss of control. Tramp is infused with folk, country, and rock elements, but it lives and dies by Van Etten's memorable, iconic vocals. That, and those aforementioned high quality lyrics.

The album occasionally feels like a dream. As a testament to its layering and Van Etten's calm-aggression, on a song like "In Line" she gets Feist-y, well, and feisty too, but primarily, her poetic softness sounds strongly and not at all parroting like the solid tracks from The Reminder. There are experiments here, but most of them exist because of ambiance rather than strange instrumentation or complex arrangements. The slow-building, partially chorale, "All I Can" is just such an example. Van Etten smoothly transitions genre, from a whispering bit of church pastoral to a rumbling, tumbling slow-rock with subtle Beirut-esque horns. The beautifully harmonized "We Are Fine," seems almost to protest too much lyrically, as the male and female vocals refrain "I'm alright/ I'm alright" over and over. That's what we do sometimes, when it comes to love, when it comes to preservation. Because the power of words lies not only in our ability to utter them, but also in our ability to use them to convince ourselves, to advocate to our own subconscious. The highlight of the last half of the album is the run from "Magic Chords" to "I'm Wrong," and it all ends with elegant beauty in "Joke or a Lie," a song about becoming comfortable with having tried.

Listen to Tramp on Spotify here. You'll love it. Van Etten is excellent.

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Maritime - Human Hearts

Talk about a return to form. Maritime was one of my favorite bands the moment I heard 2006's We, The Vehicles. Their combination of sincerity and power-pop hooks just tapped into my mid-twenties sad-guy zeitgeist in a way that the whinier of bands (I'm looking at you Bright Eyes and Death Cab for Cutie) never did. So back in 2007, when Heresy and the Hotel Choir came out, I felt a tinge of disappointment. Not because the album wasn't as good as the previous (it wasn't) but because lyrically Maritime seemed to be reaching to create something that was not ready. The album felt like a half baked pie. Sure, it tasted and resembled pie in all sorts of ways, but it just wasn't as delicious as the finished product that I knew. Even with it's high points, Heresy left me a little cold. So, Maritime took a little break. A four year-long break. And in that time, they have crafted a more spectacular album that jumps back to the glory of We, The Vehicles, harnessing the same jangly hooks, strong guitar riffs and sprawling musical scope on Human Hearts. And lyrically, they have returned to form too. We've gone back to disillusion and distemper set to pop beats. And frankly, it's very nearly perfect.

Martime isn't necessarily for everyone. I'll acknowledge that right now. Some people find Davey von Bohlen's voice (von Bohlen's voice is a little more produced here, something that may be slightly distracting, but really doesn't detract from the album as a whole) to be a little too airy and precious, but beautifully, Human Hearts operates on a guitar and drum heavy mixture that keeps the music feeling strong and gutsy, even as the lyrics contemplate emotional disasters and lovelorn complexities. This is especially evident on the sixth track "Faint of Hearts" that opens with a long, grungy, thick guitar and drum build and falls back into a marching drum scheme that perfectly backs von Bohlen's voice. It is a beating heart. And then an explosion of guitars. It feels like desire and passion, but never drifts too far toward the saccharine. The opener, "It's Casual," a song featured as the lead-in to the A.V. Club's Undercover 2011, is the perfect way to start the album, heavy with hooks and compassionate. There remain a lot of the late-'90s-early-'00s guitar sound throughout the album, with sweeping guitar gestures and quick, simple, distorted solos, especially on the raucous "Annihilation Eyes." And the more experimental "Out Numbering," which operates on muted guitar riffs and some vocal-mixing/manipulation rises and falls in brief peaks and valleys that are exceptional.

"Paraphernalia" and "Black Bones" both rock. And really, there just isn't a bad track on the album. Clearly, in taking a long break, Maritime has carefully crafted these ten tracks in a way that seemed to be missing from Heresy. It's back to basics with Human Hearts, going straight toward the album's titular hearts. Maritime has brought the humanity back and are once more unapologetically sincere, and that is the band's truest mode as the confronters of modern emotion and loving dissatisfaction. Listeners will feel good through each track and will find invigoration in the sturdy, energizing drugs. You can listen to the whole album, which comes out on April 5th, via the A.V. Club's streaming player here. And then, when you fall in love with it, you can take a little journey with your dollar bills and pick up a copy to cherish.

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The Dears - Degeneration Street

I've read several reviews of Degeneration Street already. The mix is pretty wide open. Either a reviewer finds virtue in the overloaded way The Dears offer just about any album (this isn't the first case of their music being metaphor heavy and forceful), or the reviewer finds the lack of cohesiveness in style and tone to be a crippling defect. It's just about impossible for me to take an objective look at this new album. I have loved The Dears since 2006's Gang of Losers, so you'll get renouncement satisfaction from me. The thing is, either you enjoy this band or you don't. And I wouldn't say that about most artists because some do make regrettable follow-ups to their greatest works. Even my dear The Dears, with 2008's Missiles, missed for me. And while that album received some solid praise, I felt that it was so dour and spare, so pared down and emptily sad, that it just never felt like the band I fell in love with. It's not, in retrospect, a bad album, but I think it illustrates an important concern. Calling an album based on what you want from it or expect from it is dangerous. And it's especially dangerous when we start claiming that one form of direct, hit-you-over-the-head emotionalism is suddenly more overwrought than its predecessor.

My point is, I guess, that Degeneration Street is much more like Gang of Losers, and even 2003's No Cities Left, than Missiles ever could have tried to be. This new release brings back the anthems and heartfelt, if often schmaltzy, ballads to love and protests against the modern conditions of ignorance and irony. Murray Lightburn and the band he has now is quite different from the one that played on those earlier records, but his sentimentality and strength in crafting prog-rocky, poetically-interested, emotionally-informed songs has not suddenly evaporated. Yes, just like any of their other releases, this album is far from perfect. Lightburn and Co. may not be built for an insane opus of incredible proportions, but they play songs that can stick with you. The Dears are a melodramatic band. That's a genre choice. And if that's not something you can get into and enjoy, then it's not your bag. For example, 2001 me, assuming I was writing these reviews probably doesn't get Jay-Z's The Blueprint. I didn't know rap and hip-hop back then. I didn't care for it. I wouldn't have understood the successes or the nuances or the subtleties. If I didn't like it, I'd be wrong, in the reviewer sense. It's a great album, and my illiteracy wouldn't excuse a poor review.

Pitchfork gave Degeneration Street a 2.4. That's akin to saying, this album sounds like your grandparents fucking in the alley behind a porno theater. That is to say, completely nonessential. Don't even look at it. Let alone pass money in a transaction to acquire this music. I disagree. This isn't a great album. It's not the best that The Dears have ever done. But, there are gems in there. "Blood," "Lamentation," "Galactic Tides," "Stick With Me Kid," "Tiny Man," "Unsung," and "1854" are all good songs. If you like The Dears, you will like these tracks. They feature the thick, mournful strength of Lightburn's voice. Lots of synth, guitars, powering drums and songs that build and build and explode mixed with soulful, teary outcries of desperation. That's The Dears. This sound is their M.O. If you know their discography, you know that is overloaded, melodramatic anthem is what they're up to. And "Lamentation" even has a hint of Radiohead-worship in there. What you get with Degeneration Street is a lot of epic, sweeping music that wears its heart on its sleeve. And it won't be the best version of The Dears you could hear, but it's still pretty goddamn good, cohesive or not.

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Kanye West - My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

I'm catching up, after a busy holiday, and trying to get back to some of 2010's highly-regarded now that I've had the time to snag them and listen to them at length. Kanye's newest, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, hereafter known as Fantasy, is something of an incredible music moment and not just because Pitchfork, the A.V. Club and others gave it album of the year honors (and Pitchfork also gave it the elusive 10). Instead, Fantasy actually is an epic, sprawling, incredible, nearly impossibly great album. And it only took me two trips through to realize it. For fans of Kanye West, this album will combine everything we've learned so far. Topics include love, race, socioeconomics, politics, lust, frustration and hope, all of which are Kanye staples. You also get the samples, beautiful rock/classical piano touches, and vast, catchy, wondrous instrumentation. There's even a hefty helping of humor instilled in both the lyrics and in some guest asides. And you get Kanye, but not as much as you may expect.

Following, the more Kanye-centric work of his previous albums, Fantasy features a litany of guest performers, many of whom take center stage for the bulk of the album. Some 32+/- other artists (Bon Iver!) appear on the album, so often Kanye, himself, is buried inside a track, tearing up a bridge or lifting a chorus. Initially, I found this aspect to be distracting, but ultimately, this is an album that ultimately brings an industry together, tells Kanye's story, and shows his maturity as a producer and a performer. Instead of attempting the vocal acrobatics he hands off, West is capable of getting the most of each song without relying heavily on studio magic to get the sound he needs. It's a big album. Maybe not even an album at all, and instead a sort of social experience. Like I said in the opening paragraph, it is epic. And it's not a traditional hip-hop or rap album. Fantasy becomes more of a cross-genre traveling show. Each song ties to the ones around it, but each has a special distinction, where one might be personal doubt and responsibility, the other may be a fiery barrage of dick and pussy jokes and references, but the bottom line seems to be cracking the puzzle of life.

There is no waste, no extraneous material. And the song selections perfectly bookend the album by opening with hope and closing with cautious optimism (peppered with doubt). Fantasy is an emotional journey. But, as I noted before, it's a bit of a carnival too. "All of the Lights" brings out dozens of additional players to build a vocal pyramid that is dynamic and undeniable. "Monster" is a rousing, growling, energetic tongue-in-cheek masterpiece, featuring the immortal lines, "Have you ever had sex with a pharaoh?/ I put the pussy in a a sarcophagus." And then there's John Legend's work on "Blame Game" followed by an extended Chris-Rock-honors-Kanye dialogue that involves the aforementioned pussy and its reupholstering. And yes, these examples may turn some listeners away, but the bottom line is that with maturity comes these bursts of  absurdity. There's a Cirque du Soleil quality here, because it's beautiful, well performed, elaborate, and from time to time willing to degrade itself for a laugh. And for an album with a title like this one has, that makes perfect sense.

The bottom line, so to speak, is that Kanye West's My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is at very least in the top 5 best albums of 2010. It largely depends on what you want out of an album. This won't satisfy a craving for Mumford and Sons, or even traditional hip hop, but Kanye really pulled out all the stops, tricked a standard album out with all the trappings of success and sadness, and hands this over to us as a gift that really, truly, keeps on giving. This is a must own album, and an album that feels great to listen to.

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The Bird and the Bee - Interpreting the Masters Volume 1: A Tribute to Daryl Hall and John Oates

If you say you don't like Hall and Oates, even the old hits, you're probably lying. The "blue-eyed soul" troubadours who began their musical journey in the 1970s own 6 Platinum albums and 5 Gold. They own the keys to ubiquitous super-hits "Kiss On My List," "Maneater," and "Private Eyes," songs which, if you grew up during the '80s or '90s you've definitely heard, whether you remember them by name or not. Hall and Oates have seen a relative re-birth via referential comedy and the hipster/review community. Often the butt of jokes, but really, jokes at the expense of long since super-famous musicians is more parody and appreciation than outright vitriol. So, every time that Hall and Oates comes up in conversation or in popular culture, it's evidence of a heartfelt outcry. And two weeks ago, the AV Club's Undercover series featured Fruit Bats doing a version of Hall and Oates' "One on One":

The Fruit Bats cover Hall and Oates' One On One


All of this Hall and Oates mania leads to the new The Bird and the Bee album Interpreting the Masters Volume 1: A Tribute to Daryl Hall and John Oates (and from here on out abbreviated to Masters Volume 1). Masters Volume 1 presents a sincere batch of covers, each stamped with The Bird and the Bee's style via musical redesign. Nothing here is remixed or rearranged. And Inara George's vocals are true to the source material. She avoids some of the melodramatic octave jumps and wail built into the original "Maneater," too, which makes the song seem strangely more timeless. George keeps the entire album even keel, without any absurd vocal heroics. Instead, each of these covers feels nostalgic, but modernized. "Rich Girl," "Kiss On My List," and "Private Eyes" are all unmistakable and yet in a side-by-side listen with the originals these versions feel like new music. Greg Kurstin brings new layers of guitar work and some interesting keys and synthesizer that fill out negative space without being overbearing. Essentially, this album functions two ways. It reminds me of how much I remember these songs, and have a soft-spot for them (even if I was just a boy when they first released), but it also drives me to like them more.

The Bird and the Bee don't do anything that is dangerous or wild with Masters Volume 1, but I don't want them to. These played-straight versions of classic songs reasserts that they are classics. We don't often think of Hall and Oates as a classic group/duo, but if a group's songs can translate and remain interesting over time, even if that requires a little boost/manipulation by current artists, doesn't that make it a classic? The songs musicians decide to cover, no matter how obscure, are songs with some inherent value. And Inara George and Greg Kurstin know that there is an audience of mid-20s to mid-30s (and well beyond each boundary) music aficionados who appreciate these pieces of pop archaeology, so here it is.

But Masters Volume 1 has one original song, a stage-setter, which may be The Bird and the Bee's best. Opening the album is a perfectly-Hall and Oates-esque track called "Heard It On The Radio." It's a electro-pop masterpiece, that will surely catch on as a dance track or at least the sampled beat in some other club mix. But, it's a song about how we associate a certain point in time, a certain love, a certain memory, with a song we heard on the radio at the time. What more appropriate contribution could a band make to a cover album. "Heard It On The Radio" is like the primer track, it gets you in the mood, saying, "We're gonna play songs that remind us of that summer, that relationship, that road trip, that are surely going to remind you of important things too." And it's not at all heavy-handed, rather just a quality, enjoyable pop song before a list of classic quality, enjoyable pop songs. If you've had questions about The Bird and the Bee, don't question this album, just get it and enjoy it. And if you've had questions about Hall and Oates, re-read all of this, and then check out their Wikipedia page, and then go get this album. It's fun, and it might just take to on a journey you forgot you remembered.

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The 101st Post: Media Love

So here we are: the 101st post in this space. I've talked music, movies, comics, books, philosophy, crudely assembled metaphors and so much more. I have also waxed about my life, and any of you who have read those posts, or at least kindly tolerated them, are forever on my "I owe you a cathartic recompense" list. Having started everything in December of 2008, I almost can't believe it has been more than a year. Every week I sit down with this space once or twice and grind out my thoughts about a new release of awesome sound, or the chaotic revision of a book to film, and it doesn't seem like time passes at all. Writing in this space is my passion, at least one of them. And I really want to thank anyone reading now, or ever before (or after) for taking that time. As much as I write for myself, I also hope sincerely to create something for everyone who loves media, with an independent voice, free of the administration and market-concern that controls (to some extent at least) the greater internet. Certainly so much of my writing and passion owes itself as much to the creations I discuss as to sites like the A.V. Club and Pitchfork, both of which churn out incredible amounts of content beyond the reach of an individual. I just hope that I can provide some new insight they do not. So, again, most sincerely, thank you to my readers. Many of you are my friends, people with whom I've shared great moments, and those of you that don't know me, please understand that I am indebted to you for your readerly patronage. There is no play without the audience, after all.

Since I've been at this for long time, I want to talk about why music, movies, books and comics are so special. I have been thinking about this for awhile, and I think it comes down to joy. Listening to a favorite album is something that cannot be destroyed or complicated. The same goes for books, movies and comics. Sure, the associations we hold with a certain material can change and we all grow and our tastes change, but it seems that once we reach a certain age, say, arbitrarily, 25, we all know what we like and the reason we like it is because of that empowering, butterfly feeling we get with each experience. It's like falling in love every time we hear a new song that hits us just right. Or reading a truly satisfying piece of literary gravitas. That feeling can never be sullied by time or experience. It is the purest aspect of human experience, and something that seems so much more fleeting as we leave childhood toward adulthood. Even the most cynical and elitist fan among us cannot deny that almost every band has written one incredible song. Every author one incredible sentence. Loving the whole of a body of work, or even a complete album or novel isn't a deal breaker for that feeling. And while we often feel, in retrospect, silly for liking a band we liked when we were 15 or 16, we can still remember the way we felt the first time we heard their music. Art, in all its forms, is purely enjoyable. That's a special, undeniably unique thing in this world. One that we should always embrace.

Consider how many emotions art can mine from our sometimes stony cores. No matter how jaded we become to the world, these things provide pure emotion. A song can make you feel like taking on the world, or sitting solemnly beside the bed in the dark. A song can alter your thinking completely, lifting you from sorrow or reminding you of the insignificance of life. So much of how we feel and think and exist comes from the sounds and words and images around us. Often, it does not matter what is happening in life, in the real, present, visceral existence, when art can provide so many angles on an individual topic. We experience great catharsis through art, whether we create it or observe or analyze it. It is, or at least can be, the purest catharsis. When trouble has its hold on your mind or heart, music can lift you out when friends may not. We all have comfort films that we turn to in times of worry. Art, I think, provides us the perfect love, when all we need is time with our minds and hearts, and solitude. But art is also so much more because it is the perfect communal centerpiece too. Music, live, with friends, is phenomenal. Discussing a book with a group is the key to free-form expression and philosophical discovery. Art and media are purity, much like dogs, and don't demand your affection in return, but offer so much. That's why I write in this space. That's why I love books and music and comics and film. All this pure love, projected out into the world, for everyone to share, is something for which we can all be thankful.

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Ted Leo covers Tears For Fears

Something great has happened. Ted Leo and the Pharmacists has covered Tears For Fears. It's the brilliant '80s cover we were all hoping for, and I feel compelled to link it up here. I've always loved a good cover, but even more so a cover that shows self-awareness and humanity in a band. This video does both and reinvigorates an old song with new life. You can check out all the upcoming covers at the A.V. Club. by hitting up here: http://www.avclub.com/articles/introduction-to-av-undercover,38989/. It's proof that Starbucks can do good things. I'll be checking back and you should too.


Ted Leo and the Pharmacists cover Tears for Fears' "Everybody Wants to Rule the World"

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