Showing posts with label Friendly Fires. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friendly Fires. Show all posts

12.14.2011

The Roots - Undun

Undun is a lush, beautiful, goddamn perfect album. Don't be fooled by reviews to the contrary (I'm looking at you Pitchfork!) because The Roots offer a wonderful, low-key, groove-heavy, charming and almost CONSTANTLY ENJOYABLE album. Considering that the band also holds down a day job as Jimmy Fallon's Late Night house band, the achievement of Undun is even more remarkable. And frankly, this album is probably the most exciting thing to happen in media this time of year short of the Chris Paul trade situation(s) and, dare I evoke the name, Timothy Richard Tebow. The fact is, Undun opens with a polite, warming swell and ends on notes that are downright classical. The content in between is amazingly poetic, overflowing with harmonies, delighting loops, and some rhymes that are both socially responsible and politically driven, and fucking killer.

The wistful "Sleep" kicks off the album on a proper, emotional note. Addressing what it means to be awake and alive. And Big K.R.I.T.'s turn on the mic in "Make My" is a treatise on what being rich really means, and that slippery slope that it involves. But "The Other Side" and "Stomp" have a special place for me, both driving, drum-powered pieces of pure excellence. I'm reluctant to even say it, but the album has a couple misses, "Lighthouse" is a little too dissonant, with hollow beats backing it, as if The Roots wanted to pull out all the stops on this track, but all the stops, well, they just don't work together. Sometimes harmony means recognizing that some parts must not be involved. And, I know that I'm railing here, but the chorus feels like something Friendly Fires might utilize on one of their weaker pop-dance fusion pieces. It's not terrible, but it's definitely skip-able. The rest of the album, however, is not.

The beautiful, music-box-esque, "I Remember" brings the album back to form and really re-centers Undun before we reach the final five tracks. "Tip the Scale" has a perfect blend of soul and rap. It's all slow-burning, pristine groove. And it has a social conscious. Without being heavy-handed. That's a crowning achievement right there. And hey, indie-kids, there's a Sufjan track on here and it's beautiful and classically Stevens. "Redford (For Yi-Yi & Pappou)" creates a truly elegant lull following the album's central hip-hop peaks. It's a brief experience, but a hauntingly beautiful one. And the three movements that follow, each a progressive breakdown from the track previous, capture the album's name well. Undun isn't just about the emotion and the social conscious in the songs with lyrics, it's also about the decay of the album, turning from kind of beautiful sound into something knock-down, drag-out chaotic. Undun is one of the best albums of this year. Even with a couple of "meh" tracks, the bulk of it is so emotionally and intellectually affecting that choosing not to give it a listen is a sin. Don't make baby Jesus cry. Listen to it below, and then get a copy. It's great music for just about any situation.

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5.24.2011

Friendly Fires - Pala

In 2008 I picked up the self-titled Friendly Fires on sale from the now-defunct Virgin Megastore. It was one of those albums that I purchased based solely on a quick track scan, like a musical scavenger picking at the tasty surface meats that hung off of a delicious downed animal. But, it wasn't nearly as disgusting as that makes it sound, obviously. Mostly, I was instantly enamored with the super-catchy punk-dance beats and quality hooks. It was something that I hadn't usually gravitated to at the time, but now informs the majority of my taste. It's Britpop, it's funky and it's fun. And it's a lot like Chinese food, at least based on the common parable, it can be easily enjoyed and heard, but often leaves only a small lasting impression, requiring repeat visits to taste it again and again. Three years later, Friendly Fires returns with Pala, an album whose name comes from the Aldous Huxley novel Island, wherein a journalist is shipwrecked on a fictional island called Pala. In a lot ways, Pala feels like a shipwreck. Not because it is disastrous or flawed, but because it lays the travel and island references on thick, and while the music remains fun enough, it also may as well be deserted. Hearing it at first is a great experience of solitude, but some of the songs are so short that they lack proper sustenance. I imagine being stranded it that way. First, "Yay for freedom." Second, "Boo for lonely emptiness."

The opener "Live Those Days Tonight" is solid, peppy and somewhat innocuous. Not nearly the powerful starting track that "Jump In The Pool" was to the first album. "Blue Cassette" is intentionally lo-fi, telling a story about an old cassette that touches on nostalgia and rumbles enticingly with heavy-hitting drums and quality, echoing vocals. "Running Away" trickles and runs on funk with a touch of clanging bells. It's a fine track, but melodically seems to never quite grab the upper echelon of pop that it nearly reaches for, like the kid in gym who could never quite reach the top of the rope (and I was that kid several times so I know). "Hawaiian Air" is decent, sweet, but somewhat mediocre, trying to paint a sort of island-pastoral concept, but never completely succeeding. Finally, with "Hurting" the album reaches a level of lyrical maturity and compositional difficulty that really makes an interesting track. The repetitive synth and airy vocals, with some blue-eyed soul vibe sprinkled in, really makes the track feel like an '80s pop gem, but with enough complexity to feel new and bright. "Pala" also brings something interesting to the table, drawing on pseudo-darkness combined with bird sounds, camera clicks and shutters, to decorate a conceptual track that really does well. It's a slow dance number, crunchy and cavernous, that is so delightfully interesting it makes for a great experience. The only downside is finding that two of the best tracks are buried halfway into the album, but rest assured that they are worth getting to.

"Show Me Lights" continues that trend with raucous bass drums, crashing cymbals and overlapping vocals all set to a huge wall of consistent sound. One of the better written songs, lyrically, on the album, this one feels as much like a soul track as anything else. And despite a strong opening, "True Love" disappoints slightly once the vocals start. For all of its excellent musical merit, the lyrics lack depth. That's not entirely bad, but when the melody never escapes the music that greatly it leaves the whole song feeling a little bland. Still, it's as good or better than some of the earlier songs. "Pull Me Back To Earth," though is extremely interesting, overflowing with energy and sung over a plucky guitar lead. It builds and crashes and is mostly satisfying, though on repeat listens it becomes more enjoyable than the first time. "Chimes" and "Helpless" both have great moments, hitting on some beautifully paced dance and sweet, sincere, nearly-emo declarations of emotionality. But both of these, despite their notable moments of virtue feel a lot like some of the throwaway tracks from Friendly Fires. Sometimes, Pala feels like it has far more potential energy than it does kinetic. It strives for to be greater, bigger, and more memorable than it is, but it is nonetheless enjoyable.

Built for party music, Pala will serve as an excellent, well beyond suitable backing track to any gathering, shindig, or chaotic dance breakdown. It's a solid album that begs additional listens, and I will say that after a few times through, the more ornate touches stand out greater than on the first pass through. Perhaps it's not an album that will always demand your direct attention, but it is an album that could soundtrack activities very well. And because every song has a special little surprise worth finding in it, whether it's a chorus or a buried bridge, there's a lot to look out for and forward to. Give it a listen below.

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2.27.2011

10 Songs About Art

Seems like theme playlists have been coming to mind a lot lately. There's something reassuring about finding patterns and links between disparate objects. I think that's essentially the English major's curse. Or maybe the curse of the artist in general. We seek links among varying areas of study. We are philosophers of all things expressive. So, when music is the common link, well, that's a simpler equation. They're all songs! says the doubter. There are only so many potential combinations of notes! The chord progressions used in rock/pop/hip-hop/blues/reggae/jazz all rely on the same rule set. Eh. It's true. I often hear songs that sound similar/the same as something previous to it, or even something contemporary. Sometimes I'm not entirely correct in my guess. It may be a hanging note here or there that forges a link in my mind, but it's the same way that we can see one aspect of a person's face and think they look like someone they do not look like. It's a bag of tricks, all this comparison and contrasting.

Initially, I planned to focus in only on songs about writing. But, as any reader, writer, or interesting person will tell you: When people write about writing it's usually an exercise in mundane masturbation. Luckily, there is only one song about the "writing process" in this list, and even that one has more to do with using writing to track a timeline of love than about the process itself. That's just a kind way of keeping us from getting bored. A song called, "I'm Typing for the Eighth Month Straight" isn't selling any records. And we're lucky that most songs, with the exception of a couple sappy love songs I wrote back in high school, don't reference "songwriting" immediately in their lyrics. We prefer art to be self-aware, but not always self-referential. It's an afront to the listener, like the excellent Twitter @humblebrag. Artists are supposed to, in some sense, create without being too cloying about it. We don't want to know where the work comes from, that it was a human process of insight, failure and complaint. We prefer the magic trick, unspoiled, to be wow us each and every time. So, here are 10 Songs About Art. One of them, Cursive's "Art Is Hard" actually just all that complaining, but in a rocking enough way that I think we'll all find it palatable.

1. "The Engine Driver" by The Decemberists from Picaresque
This is a sort of universal song about love and wishing it wouldn't haunt us in our worst hours. Colin Meloy is especially earnest with his lyrics here, juxtaposing broad-stroke concepts of different professions with the cry that love is a sort of curse. Throughout the song, no matter what persona the principle character takes on, he can't escape the fact that love is the thing that has let him down. Love is the thing that holds him in stasis, keeping him from growing into something "happy" regardless of all his achievements. And the bridge refrain, "I am a writer. A writer of fictions. I am the heart that you call home. And I've written pages upon pages trying to rid you from my bones," speaks so directly to the cathartic property of art, and the temporary nature of catharsis, that it becomes haunting in itself. Art becomes an addiction, a good one, but one that provides little boosts that we thrive on for a short time. Unfortunately, we always need to make more. No project ever really ends, we just give up on it to get a fresh, new high from a new creation.

2. "Modern Art" by Art Brut from Bang Bang Rock & Roll
Despite the playful and semi-ironic tone of this track, Art Brut is capturing the vivid powerful feeling of sublime existential crisis that some art can evoke in the viewer. Modern art, specifically, can do this well because there's the glow of color and the power of undefined shape. While a classic portrait may lead us to bask in the beauty of its construction, the art that really gets under the skin is the stuff that we have to impress our own experience upon. Looking at a canvas of pure color makes us feel the things we associate with that color, and while there are "rules" about color theory, a certain red may make me remember the color of my '66 Mustang convertible or the blood on the asphalt following a car accident when my father was a volunteer firefighter, it may make another viewer think of cherries or something more charmingly banal. It's eye of the beholder shit. And if modern art makes Art Brut want to rock out, then it's entirely possible it could make another viewer want to break down in tears.

3. "Write About Love" by Belle & Sebastian from Write About Love
Stuart Murdoch is really singing about love here. And the way that in our most desperate/loving moments we want to find the spell that will break our mundane worlds apart and bring the person we care about back to us. Of course, love is drug in this case, and spells are just a magical stand-in for drugs too. Art too is a kind of drug, as I noted above. We turn to art, and writing and whatever additional expression we can find to get some welcome respite from our busy lives. And that's why all of this important. All Dystopian novels tend toward worlds (with the exception of Brave New World) where art is completely banished. Human expression is a curse and a necessity. It's funny that something so simple, just wanting to be emotionally resonant can be considered such a suck on productivity. Happy workers are healthy productive workers. Art, then, should be everywhere.

4. "Art House Director" by Broken Social Scene from Forgiveness Rock Record
This is kind of just a song I like, for it's frenetic pacing and machine gun horns, but also it's about that "creative process" I noted earlier. Art has struggles built into it inherently. We often don't see them because we consume art in its "finished" form, but this song's interest in the starlet who seems to be ruining a film's production highlights that struggle and points to the human drama that involves all art. We've seen montages of writers attempting to write, balling up page after failed page and casting them to the wastebasket until it overflows and it seems sort of hackneyed. But it's true. There's a lot of failure in art. There's failure inevitable when creating anything. Not all the pieces fit. Not every word or line falls into place. And well, love is that way too. Some projects seem to work better than they actually do, and some projects thrive on error, getting better with each incorrect turn and misplaced sentence.

5. "Classical Records" by Department of Eagles from In Ear Park
This Grizzly Bear off-shoot band opens with a question about whether we listen to classical records anymore. Or do we let them sleep in their sleeves where they dream? It's a haunting track that builds into a clattering clockwork of musical expression. And it's clearly a partially constructed song, since these were mostly B-sides in the first place, but the implication that music, or any art, sleeps and dreams when we do not look at it is intriguing. Art is meant to be experienced. Left to its own devices, if art were sentient, it would almost certainly go insane, like a singer without a voice or a writer without words. The whole concept of expression is predicated upon another experiencing it, otherwise, the value is unknowable and the emotion almost doesn't exist anymore. This is a Zen kind of concept, if art is hung in a museum and no one ever looks upon does it make an impression?

6. "Nose Art" by Flying Lotus from Cosmogramma
Nose art refers to the artwork done on the noses of war airplanes and fighters through the two World Wars and beyond. It's a kind of graffiti, but it's the ultimate expression for men who identified themselves by their modes of transportation/warfare. The track itself runs on a loop that sounds like the combination of a propeller and roaring engines. It's a disorienting song that places you right in that nose art, making the listener merely a picture upon front of a war machine. The experience is chaotic, booming and looping, almost maddening. As insane as battle may become, these little touches of art grounded pilots and personnel in their lives, allowing that minuscule glimmer of humanity to blink through when it was needed most.

7. "Art Is Hard" by Cursive from The Ugly Organ
This is possibly the most self-aware song about art and writing that I've ever heard. The lyric seep with complaints and notes about the process of writing a song. Even using "Oh a second verse" to open the second verse. The refrain "Cause we all know art is hard, young artists have gotta starve, try and fail and try again" marks that struggle with most honesty. Many people do art as a way to ward off insanity, as that catharsis I discussed earlier, but there's also the issue that we all know the "starving artist" concept and that it is divisive depending on who is viewing the artist. Some people think artistic pursuits are wasteful and silly. Others admire the choice. And still more people choose the appearance of artistic starvation as an excuse to not grow up. Art breeds strange thoughts.

8. "The Painter" by I'm From Barcelona from Let Me Introduce My Friends
The insanely sweet pop of this song makes it instantly enjoyable, though a bit cloying. The beauty of horns and and a chorus of voices telling us that we shouldn't give up on our dreams. It's a song that attacks the idea that success means doing things that are traditionally successful, money making, etc. Instead, the painter in the song acknowledges that he "does [his] crappy art" but also that he sees something special in people. The artist's eye isn't only expressed in the things he creates, but in the things he notices. Being artistic doesn't mean making something big and beautiful or selling a lot of gallery tickets, it can be as simple as just looking at the beauty in the world with an open mind and an open heart.

9. "Photobooth" by Friendly Fires from Friendly Fires
We love to capture moments. We love to think that we can keep photos and keep the memory. Really, it just keeps the memory more vivid. The photo booth is a great example of this. It gives three brief moments, where as they say in the song "we're posing like this year's models," and those moments are just impressions of reality. They are bookmarks for our memories, the way that all of our senses can cue such reactions about place, time and space. With photos though, we have the opportunity to alter the light of the image or even more importantly alter the perspective. We often don't look at ceilings. I think about that a lot. And I try to look at the ceiling in every place I go because it's the part that we don't pay a lot of attention to. Ceilings are artificial skies. We always look at the sky because it represents future, but never ceilings, even if they can (though not always) represent security, safety and architectural greatness. The point I guess, is that art can make us look at things in a new way, specifically in a new direction, from a new angle.

10. "Everyday I Write The Book" by Elvis Costello from Punch The Clock
Pretty simple link here, book writing links to art. We all know this song well, but the beauty of it is that while it starts as a song about the creative process, it's ultimately about how we write our own narratives about our relationships. Not everyone's versions of the story may match up exactly, but when provided information from one writer, the story seems to be very clear. Sure, it's not essential to break life down into chapters, or to catalog relationships that way, but we do it. It's easy to start chapters at milestones, keeping a close eye on moments that changed the way we saw another person. When we said "Hello," when we said "I love you" and when we moved in together... to when we said "Goodbye." Costello's book is aware of all the nuances and errors that have been in and out of the relationship too. It's a great testament to how we perceive our worlds and our lives. Also, it's a fine song.
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