RIP Jason Molina

Yesterday, I was shocked and saddened to read that Songs: Ohia and Magnolia Electric Co. leader, singer-songwriter-genius Jason Molina, had passed away after a lifelong battle with alcoholism. In many circles, Molina's work, a prolific catalog of sad, dark, folksy, occasionally-uplifting, and always extremely beautiful songs, was and is revered. Molina's voice, a trademark strained caterwaul, was something that many people probably had a hard time connecting with. It was the words, though, that made the biggest impact on me.

My friend and coworker, Sean, led me to Molina's music through our office's shared sound system. Some days, I'll be honest, Songs: Ohia and Magnolia Electric Co., depressed the hell out of me. Sometimes it was just plain to hard to listen to. Yet, Axxess & Ace sticks with me note for note. I won't say that I can recite the lyrics from memory, or even along with the songs, but goddamn if I can't feel every single thing Molina says and find a parallel in my own history. There was something so incredibly timeless and aware about Molina's work that makes it undeniable.

Like fellow gone-too-soon artist Elliott Smith, Molina was a dark-side poet of life. He didn't write songs about sex or love or happiness or sadness in pop-ready terms. The hooks in his songs, of which there are many, would be unlikely to snare the casual radio listener. The western-classic slide guitar and plucky nature of his arrangements don't drive you to the dance floor or inspire a Journey-esque bar-wide sing-along. Instead, it was always poetry, dark, human, and in brief snapshots.

The Magnolia Electric Co. album by Songs: Ohia, the last before transitioning bands, features a song called "Old Black Hen," sung by vocalist Lawrence Peters in pristine, visceral, glory. That song changed my life. It changes my life every time I listen to it. And the "bad luck lullaby" refrain that strings that song together will always make me think of Jason Molina. He, who was so willing to put his heart on display in his music, to show everyone what he was made of, created so many powerful and potent songs that his short life was a gift to every audiophile.

The tragic nature of his passing will never be at the forefront of my mind because his legacy is as robust and untarnished as any artist in the public eye could ever hope for. Whatever pain and suffering he felt is now done, and he has left us all the great gift of a timeless library of honesty, truth, and impeccable music.

Thank you, Jason. 

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Petula Clark - Cut Copy Me

Born in 1932, Petula Clark, perhaps best known to Gen Y and Z and whateverthefuck for the song "Downtown," has released a new single. It's called "Cut Copy Me" and it might be the best song of 2013 so far, in any genre, but specifically in a British, downbeat, electronic, love, alt, rock. Keep in mind, that "Downtown" song about "when you're alone and life is treating you lonely... you can always go..." was released back in 1964, when Clark was 32. It was a prime piece of '60s pop elegance, and one of the most, stuck-in-our-heads songs of all time. Clark has clearly grown with the times and continued to write amazing, honest, sweet lyrics. The computer metaphor in "Cut Copy Me" serves to drive the video, but it also speaks to the distance and automation of modern love. The simple request in that title, to be removed from one document or file and placed in another, leaving no trace of the past, is something we've all hoped for at times. But, it's clear here and that Clark sees this as a romantic electronic future dream. The truth is that love is always messy, always complicated, and there's no keyboard macro to end one love and create another. This might be 2013's through-thread song. We'll see.

Regardless. I hope I'm even half this prescient, open and creative when I'm 80. Thank you, Petula Clark.

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Band to Watch: Marmalade Sky

Bristol, UK's Marmalade Sky blends the rocking frustration of The Hives, The Kinks, and subtle hints of art/post-punk outfit Art Brut. They specialize in inflammatory, declarative lyrics and raging, infectious, crunchy guitars. As a result, Marmalade Sky captures the frustrations and volatile energy of youth well. The dirty, unadorned arrangements and compositions are fuel, as much as entertainment, for outcries against spurned love and homogenization of culture. The band also lashes out for complete cultural upheaval in "Rebelling Voices," but lyrics somehow the lyrics here are little too on-the-nose. They do their best work when the messages are more subtle, as in "Showmen" and "Work Till I Die." In both cases, a truly addictive riff, and catchy melody elevates the songs to what they seem to want to be, a sort of fiery post-punk. Both of those are anthems, and good ones. Damn good ones. With "Rebelling Voices" the anthem is there, but it seems too intentional, written to be something, rather than a powerful outburst.





That said, Marmalade Sky comprising Dan Warren (vocalist), Luke Mayo (guitar, vocalist), George Shelton (rhythm guitar), Mike Wilcox (bass guitar) and Jay Ham (drums) has some excellent, at times tongue-in-cheek insight to offer as well. The great "British Boy" is a lyrical masterpiece with vaguely Smiths-esque irony infused. Two versions are available on the band's SoundCloud page, and of the two, I favor the acoustic, where the lyrics resonate longer and the instrumentation is more lush and divergent. "Shaking Bars" is another winner, and the vocals really shine, with rowdy, stilted affectations. It's pure rock and roll. The kind that creates a combination desire to create and destroy... or more simply, fuck and fight. "I'm A Fool" is more power-pop and very reminiscent of the Kinks' stuff in the '60s. It's simple, direct and bold in the way that bold was bold before envelopes were pushed to great perimeters of explicitness. Really, it's refreshing.




Watch this band. Check out the videos embedded above, and hit up Marmalade Sky's SoundCloud page. Heck, "like" them on Facebook while you're at it. If they keep creating new music, some really, really cool shit is going to happen.

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Words On Film: Moonrise Kingdom

Wes Anderson's highly-anticipated new flick Moonrise Kingdom is, as several people have summed it up, "a gateway to fall back in love with Wes Anderson." The director known for stylized costuming, colorful sets, and innovative shot selection, doesn't win with this movie because of any of those things. Sure, they help, but what makes Moonrise Kingdom special lies in its heart. Anderson had that heart in full form in The Royal Tenenbaums, where aging patriarch Gene Hackman reconnects with his family and with his ability to love and live fully. Personal growth and acceptance, the regaining of self-esteem and humanity underline every aspect of that film, covering love and life and death in heavy, but never heavy-handed doses. That ideal fell off some with the The Life Aquatic, getting stuck behind style. And while it came back in force with The Darjeeling Limited, it wasn't quite the same. And it was more confined to the REAL problems of adults, which, let's face it, we're more and more reticent to face on film since we have to face them ourselves.

With Moonrise Kingdom, Anderson does something amazing. He shows us that as kids we strive to be adults, and as adults we forget what it's like to be kids... with the exception of the Khaki Scouts leaders. Sam and Suzy spend most of the movie acting the way they think they would if they were grown ups. Their experiences together are framed by their desire to be in love and to be treated like people, rather than children. Even the film's one major action sequence is framed by children trying to be what they think adults are like. Boys pretending to be men. But then, isn't that what a Scout organization is all about. It's an excuse to stop playing and start "surviving" even when in either case the root of it is human experience and intuition. So, as Anderson's child characters are busy reaching toward their perception of adulthood, all the adults are miserable in their own ways.

Bruce Willis, Bill Murray, Edward Norton and Frances McDormand all have their own kinds of misery predicated on their focus on their perceptions of adulthood. Being career focused, being lost in love but dedicated to another, being browbeaten and being responsible for leadership but complete unsure about how to go about it. Essentially, the adults are the kids, but they don't know it. The kids want to be adults and they shouldn't. Instead, our wonderful cast of brilliantly designed and written characters battle what they know to be right. Love. It's love that drives this film, both of the other and of the self. And Wes Anderson's underlying message seems to be, love each other, and more importantly, never stop being a kid. Kids follow what they want. Kids are actualized. Kids even pretend to adults that are more interesting than actually being an adult could ever be.

See this film. Don't miss it.

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Amerigo Gazaway - "Rosebud"

Adept and politically charged hip-hop artist Amerigo Gazaway has a frank, honest and direct way with his lyrics. I brought you his anthem for the Occupy movement in this space a few months ago, and now he has tackled a far more delicate, far more divisive (sadly) issue. Gazaway offers up this tribute to Trayvon Martin. It's title is "Rosebud." Despite the sadness and really unbelievable mindfuckery attached to the incidents in Florida, this track serves up the same honesty and clarity. Sure, there's anger there. With due cause. And there's a lot of sadness there too. But most of all, Gazaway's incorporation of Sharon Van Etten, and his powerful reference, comparing Martin's young death to the life he could have lived through Orson Welles'  "Citizen Kane" is impeccable. It's a sad song, an angry one, and a good one. Watch the video.

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RIP MCA.

The Beastie Boys' Adam "MCA" Yauch passed away today. It's a sad day, capping a sad week, with Junior Seau's death earlier. A moment of silence for a great musician and a contemporary genius of hip hop. I can't eulogize him properly... but Paste does a great job. (http://www.pastemagazine.com/articles/2012/05/adam-mca-yauch-1964-2012.html)

And now, my two favorite Beastie Boys' songs, and favorite tracks of my youth:

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What's It Mean?: "Somebody That I Used To Know."

What's It Mean? may take off as something bigger, where we discuss the meanings of songs, and not the versions of explications that come from SongMeanings.com, etc. Let's get a little academic and have fun with it. But mostly, this idea is born from the insane popularity and over-play attached to the Gotye song "Somebody That I Used To Know." At its heart, the track seems to be a sad lament on lost love, and even if you Google around, you get some common theories that avatar Gotye is sad, and avatar Kimbra tells him that "they broke up for reason, so stop being hung up on me." The text is deeper than that, though, and far more sad.

Our main character, Gotye for all intents and purposes, is singing to an ex, about how she left him and now treats him like they never happened. He opens the song saying both that he "felt so happy [he] could die" in the previous relationship, but that he also felt "so lonely in your company" and that "that was love and it's an ache [he] still remembers." It's a complicated 4-line stanza. He's already establishing himself as an unreliable narrator. Gotye never really loves the woman he's singing to, and admits that without admitting it, right away. He was happy, but lonely, as if he was only really dating a simulacrum of a person to begin with. And the final line is an admission that love is imperfect, but that he has also idealized love to such an extent that it's a concept, rather than a dialog between two people. Right away, we can argue that Gotye's avatar here is unsympathetic, and perhaps a bit of headcase.

In Stanza #2, he ups the ante on these concepts. Love is "a certain type of sadness" that he becomes addicted to. It's a drug, not a dialog. It's a torture of sorts, like a lashing administered upon himself like he's an ascetic monk. And it was always "resignation," a sort of pathetic acceptance that he wasn't going to find someone else. We have to remember here that this is HIS perspective, so it's not objective. Now, imagine how you'd feel if your significant other said that they were resigned to be with you. That's shitty. That's being told, essentially, "I can't do any better, so oh well." It's a kick in the fucking teeth. And even as Gotye says that they decided they would still be friends, he's "glad that is was over." Those aren't the words of a sad man. Those are the callous words of someone who never loved where he was, and then has the terrible audacity to complain about how his actions led to equal and opposite reactions. It's a serious moment of psuedo-sociopathy.

When we break into the chorus, the catchy, wonderful chorus (And don't get me wrong, I love this song. It's beautiful, but I'm arguing, misunderstood.), Gotye cries out that while he didn't love her, and she made him sad and lonely and addictive, and don't forget, "resigned," that she didn't have to "cut [him] off" from her entirely. He doesn't want to be treated like a stranger, either, or to think that she changed her number, but there are two big things. First, why if you felt lonely, sad, addicted, and resigned, would you want to hear from that person again. And two, why are you calling someone about whom you can say such things. Maybe some would argue that love is that complex, and yes, I agree to a large part of that, but he should be SURPRISED. And that's the tone of chorus, pained surprise.

Then Kimbra stops by to offer the female perspective. She tells him how he "screwed [her] over" and left her obsessing that it was her fault. Clearly our protagonist is an asshole, or at least a case can be made that his callous interpretation of their relationship, combined with her frank heartbreak, means that he wasn't really in it at all, and isn't a good guy. The kicker comes when Kimbra sings the "You said that you could let it go/ And I wouldn't catch you hung up on somebody that you used to know..." part. She's saying, right there, that Gotye's avatar was talking about his ex, before her, his previous ex, when she and him were together. He never let go of the woman before her, and it destroyed them. And now, he's repeating his destructive pattern of only loving the gone and unattainable, instead of loving the here and now. It's really difficult for me to even conceive of a case where Gotye's character is a good guy here. He seems at total fault. And frankly, it's devastating to consider that he'd get back out there and do the whole thing again to another woman.

Because he repeats the chorus, and that sentiment about feeling ditched and left behind by his former paramour, but it's done in such a way that it's clear he's not listening to Kimbra's advice, or her feelings. He's a relationship Chernobyl doomed to repeat over and over and over again. And that's the song. Disagree? Drop some comments below. If nothing else, let's have a little dialog because I don't want this to be one-sided. And as I said, "Somebody That I Used To Know" is a great song. And while it will be destroyed by radio overplay, it's a huge sonic bright spot in this still young decade. Dig. And that's for hanging out to find out What's It Mean?

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The Walking Dead - "Better Angels"

After last week's strangely affecting episode of AMC's The Walking Dead, we get "Better Angels" to continue the full-steam-ahead vibe that's beginning the serve the series very well. "Better Angels" is a strong episode, but in what appear to be attempts to tie up loose ends and maintain some emotional core to the show, there are moments that don't really work, or for that matter, make a lot of sense. The big news, if you don't already know please turn your head now, is that Rick stabs Shane, not in cold blood, but not in self-defense entirely either. It's a killing in lukewarm blood, but it also seemed otherwise completely unavoidable. The way that the episode closes, or nearly closes, on this brutal moment, sets a solid contrast to Rick's plea that the group come together and maintain their humanity as Dale wanted... to be un-broken and to stay together because they'd honor his memory. The problem is that Rick never loses his humanity completely. The twist, or rather the turn of the knife, isn't nearly as big because we know that Rick knows better. The problem is that Carl witnesses it. Or at least sees his father looming over Shane's body. And in that moment, the innocence is all gone for the young man.

Elsewhere and earlier, Rick's original plea to honor Dale could easily be a pact made by the writers of the show. Rick essentially tells the team not to be whining, philosophical, sad-sacks anymore. And if the writers are hinting that they'll take the show in a non-AMC hyper-dramatic direction, then I'm all for it. Of course, they don't make immediate good on this demand... although Lori inexplicably does. She turns to Shane, just episodes (but days in show time) from his outrageous claims and attempts to beat Rick to death, to tell him that she's sorry, that she (hints) loved him at least for a minute there, and that he's a good guy. She says it's because Dale died and that makes her question all her notions, but that's stupid if only because Lori and Dale never seemed to talk or have fun or anything. It's problematic to make a character like Dale, who becomes the whining tattletale and unwanted conscience to the audience and the group on screen, and then pretend that everyone's completely heartbroken at his passing. If the writers took 7 minutes from the philosophy aspect of the show and put it into showing a bond and a love among the characters, even if it's just an instant, then these deaths would mean more. And revelatory reactions would seem more reasonable.

Sure, we liked Dale. But we didn't love him. And when Lori opens up to the man she wanted dead two weeks ago. And when Glenn gets all sappy about the Winnebago, it seems trite, like an acknowledgement that they're SUPPOSED to have a bond that they never show. It would be one thing to say, "Oh shit! Another one is dead. This is out of hand. I'm scared." But to put weight on Sophia and Dale when no one talks about Otis or Amy or the countless other people who have already died is hollow. Carl blames himself, and has the most compelling side story option, but it goes nowhere, other than to show some warmth in Shane's heart so that we'll feel worse when Rick rips it out (necessarily) a few scenes later. And that's okay. Because Shane rises, and Carl shoots him. After, of course, Shane takes matters with their captive into his own hands and kills him too. The web is tangled. Shane went crazy. But like Darth Vader, there was still good left. And now he's dead, and Rick will have to try to explain it.

Oh yeah, and a group of zombies were bearing down on the farm from the forest, apparently fulfilling the "we have cows so we're sitting ducks" foreshadowing that was so deftly implanted at the beginning of the show. One more for Season Two. Will they make it good? I think they will. They're getting better. Plus, the visuals, especially the at-dusk showdown between Rick and Shane was beautifully shot. Stay tuned.

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"What Are You Doing New Years Eve?" and a Glaring Omission

After compiling my 12 Best Albums of 2011, I realized, about 8 hours after posting it, that I left off one album that was incredible and necessary... essential even! That album is Nine Types of Light by TV On The Radio. It's truly excellent from beginning to end and harkens a charming and potent return to form for the experimental, shoegaze outfit. You should list to that too. And if I missed anything else, I'm truly sorry. It's tough to throw together a comprehensive list without neglecting some of the excellence that is all around all the time.

But, with that wrong righted, "What Are You Doing New Years Eve?"




And for the Scrubs fans out there... a fun little version of a Christmas classic.

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Star Anna and the Laughing Dogs - Alone In This Together

With beautifully heartfelt, sometimes growling vocal intonation and brisk, guitar and piano work, Star Anna and the Laughing Dogs, with their newest release Alone In This Together, provide a collection of songs that speak to every person's failed relationships, every person's unfulfilled dreams and every person's fears of the future. Their folk, alt-country, rock mix that features splashing percussion and pristine melodious harmonies, has a very radio friendly quality without sacrificing the purity of emotion attached to each individual line of lyrical poetry. While they do have a somewhat late-'90s/early-'00s Lilith Fair quality at times, Star Anna and the Laughing Dogs also infuses a strong and evident love of the blues. It's a sturdy album about situations we all know well, and one that never drifts too far into the sad-sack or pathetic. Star Anna, lead singer, rhythm guitarist and leader of the group, a vocalist from Ellensburg, WA., has such a powerful, enjoyable voice that she carries (and could carry) just about any song, even if it were trite. Luckily, the growls and lush arrangements around her on Alone In This Together never require such carrying. Instead, they simply benefit. And that, ultimately, benefits the listener.

The title track "Alone In This Together" is a powerful, sad, and wistful track that gives an exemplary taste of the rest of the album. Check out the video below for the FULL EFFECT. But even beyond that song, which will sure see some radio time over the next months, the album has some great highlights. "Time" and "Wolves In Disguise" serve as testaments to different sides of the romantic/life coin, touching both on sadness and on a sort of strong, vengeful desire to battle back deceptions. "Just Leave Me There" has all the sad-mixed-with-a-middle-finger anyone could ask for. Despite a slower pace, it's decisive and aggressive lyrically. And some of the best tracks finish the album, so as you wander the wilds of the internet to sample before you buy, make sure to check out "Don't Go Yet." You'll be pleased when you do, especially as Star Anna's voice and style reveal themselves more and more to have hints of Fiona Apple and Cat Power. Check out a few of the tracks below the video, and then hit up the band's website to pick up a copy. It's talented artists like these, who fly somehow under the radar, who deserve our love the most.




Star Anna And The Laughing Dogs 05 Time by Local 638 Records
 
Star Anna And The Laughing Dogs 07 Wolves In Disguise by Local 638 Records

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Amerigo Gazaway - "Who We Are"

Gummy Soul artist and the great creator of the mash-up masterpiece Fela Soul, Amerigo Gazaway, recently released a politically charged Occupy: Wall Street-themed song called "Who We Are." Brilliantly, the song is a strong, poignant rallying cry. It also functions as a note of negativity that, while hopeful for the future, acknowledges that it's already too late. This type of sincerity and depth sets Gazaway instantly apart from the crowds. His anger in "Who We Are" isn't merely directionless, it is a frustration that solutions could be found, but we are so constantly bogged down that they remain elusive. It's also one of the most educated, well-formed pleas I have heard in recent history. This isn't just a "ra ra" piece about how everything is broken, it's a philosophical thesis about ending the corporate greed in this country and around the world. And keeping the one planet we have clean and alive. It's truly moving stuff. Download the single here.

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Feist - "How Come You Never Go There"

An austere, quirky, and Feistive track from this year's excellent Metals, "How Come You Never Go There" is imagery rich, and ties itself back to Feist's previous video work (for "1234" and "My Moon, My Man") with more of her trademark bob-and-pop dancing. Check out the video because you like Feist, or you don't. But also because this is one of the poppier tracks on the album and joy just shoots out of it like a Slip-N-Slide hose in summertime.

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ZAHAR - "It Washed Away"

Talent is everywhere. While a lot of the business end will lead you to believe that film making and music are extremely hit-or-miss almost all the time, the truth is that there is compelling material floating around the world. I have been lucky enough to know and meet some of these talent-purveyors first-hand, too, and to be subsequently blown away by the continuing excellence. This is a new track, an acoustic track called "It Washed Away" by an old friend now traveling artistically as ZAHAR. Now, if you're suddenly questioning my objectivity, first let me say that Ayn Rand is full of shit. Second, I had never heard ZAHAR perform way back when, and I had little idea of his capability and capacity for writing, or guitar-maestro-ism until listening to the song embedded below. So, nuts to objectivity. This is great stuff.

Take note of the excellent guitar work, a periodic, ambling, hypnotic line that maintains the simple semblance of order that the song needs to build to the crashing "breakdown" moments. It reminds me of another track, a little known song called "Closed Rooms" by The Standard, which functions with a similar rambling riff, but lacks the vocal complications featured here by ZAHAR. I mean, listen to the range here. It's not soul/opera/super-range, but ZAHAR offers appropriate delicacy and softness to kick off the song, and then succeeds in demonstrating incredible frustration and power as the rough, gravely tones overtake the song. It's a brilliant contrast to the sweeter opening, and to the continuous, melodic riff. There are good songs that are danceable, or fun, or poppy, but this is one of those good songs that has pieces assembled to convey the greater point. ZAHAR's political and social commentary heat and boil over in a fervor of anguishing growls, and then so gently, they fall back into a perfect silence. Hear "It Washed Away" out and then listen to it again and again. It's a grower that's also a show-er (to use the Savage-parlance). And check out ZAHAR's website here to show your support.

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Fruit Bats & Vetiver, Cut Copy, and The Head and the Heart LIVE in Denver

Earlier this week, we received some great footage of the St. Vincent show in Boulder from our dear friend-of-the-Lantern, Max Winkler. Well, today, we've got even more greatness, capturing a handful of shows that we were unable to cover with full reviews (except for one, the Fruit Bats and Vetiver performance at Twist and Shout made these "pages" already). Thanks to the indomitable Mr. Winkler, whose Roots Verdes tumblr features some killer design and photography from around the globe, we happily present video from that Fruit Bats/Vetiver combo, October 4th's Cut Copy show, and October 10th's The Head and the Heart show. Check out "Tony the Tripper," "Lights & Music" and "Lost In My Mind" below. And for the love of all that is sacred, holy and hopefully coated in a fine layer of powdered sugar, have a charming Thursday! X's and O's from Gas Lantern Media.

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October 8: St. Vincent @ Boulder Theatre

Photo courtesy of Max Winkler

A little bonus for your Columbus Day enjoyment, courtesy of Max Winkler, one of Gas Lantern Media's great roving film/photo concert contributors, here's a video of St. Vincent (our e-crush darling Annie Clark) performing last Saturday at the historic Boulder Theatre. The track is "Dilettante" from her new album Strange Mercy, previously reviewed (and loved) here among hundreds of other places. So sit back, have a cup of tea, and prepared to be simultaneously rocked and freaked. What else would you want from a Monday like this? Oh, a cookie? Well, yes, we have those available in the commissary too. But, it's a fictional commissary...

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Words On Film: Never Let Me Go vs. The Island

Watch out for spoilers! I probably won't say it again, so if you haven't seen 2010's beautiful, if sometimes slightly off-step film Never Let Me Go (or the 2005 film The Island), and do not want to know how it goes, cease your ingress now. Both of these films deal with medical science gone to its next semi-logical extreme. And both deal with the complex notions and rules that define each of us as human, or to use a vile, Republican vernacular, "persons." But, really, both movies are about clones. Clones specifically created for organs, or to be the "data back-up" for some wealthy individual somewhere who no longer fears having cancer or heart disease when new bits and gibblets are OTC. The approaches between these films are very different. And most especially in their presentation of the protagonists. Because in both cases, Science (capital S) is the villain...

First, Michael Bay's The Island, starring Ewan McGregor and Scarlett Johansson hits the action and sci-fi side of the issue as Lincoln Six Echo (McGregor) and Jordan Two Delta (Johansson) grow up in a jump-suited, ideal of Tomorrowland world bubble. They believe that the world outside has been contaminated and that life outside is impossible. But there's one place called the Island (right!?) where fresh air, water and other Earthly delights exist without contamination. The people inside their bubble compete to win a lottery that sends them there... to, for lack of a better term "heaven on Earth." But, over the course of the film we learn that the Earth is fine, just like we remember it, and Lincoln and Jordan are, in fact, clones of wealthy people who need some extra organs. Along with everyone else inside their eternal indoor prison. And, oh yeah, that Island, well, it's a myth... when you win and go there, you actually just get harvested because someone drank their first (or second) liver away. Upon discovering the truth, Lincoln and Jordan run, Logan-style, and learn about the world that they didn't really know at all. You see, these clones are naive. They know nothing of their world. They only know the tiny ordered, systems they are placed in to keep them sane, but not smart enough to revolt. Science has made people it can control... for organs... until, well, Science can't control them anymore. And in typical Bay-fashion, shit blows up all over the goddamn screen. And people, well, even as clones, we are human... we have personhood, so Lincoln and Jordan help all the clones escape... and then get to fuck on a boat (implied, not shown).

But, Never Let Me Go takes a different route. A film not directed by Bay, there are exponentially less explosions, helicopter chases and action sequences. In fact, there are none. Brooding and contemplation are the names of the game for Kathy H. (Carey Mulligan), Ruth (Keira Knightley) and Tommy D. (Andrew Garfield). Opening at a typical British boarding school, Never Let Me Go holds onto the revelation of clone-person-ship until shortly before the end of the first act. Instead, we see these characters, first through child actors, behaving as normal kids, and told merely that they are special so they must never smoke or do other detrimental things that may harm their health. When a caring teacher tells them the truth, that they will grow to be young adults and then be harvested, the children do not react. They have no concept of the reality befalling them. They are too young to know that they aren't just children. Over time, though, they come to terms with it, insofar as they acknowledge that they are clones. But rather than run, or fight, or escape, Kathy, Ruth and Tommy simply trudge forth to their destiny like chip-registered cattle. They fall in love and they want, but they also seem so resigned to their fates that they barely have to will to be "persons" at all. The greatest tragedy of Never Let Me Go comes from a last ditch effort, one that is meant to merely defer Kathy and Tommy's deaths so they can be together. It turns out to be a hoax, a fairytale concoction. Mulligan's Kathy, after losing both of her friends to "completion" (the Science term for dying because there aren't enough organs left to support the clone) and learning that she too will begin donations soon, looks out over a pastoral plain and contemplates whether her life is actually any less meaningful than someone who lived a "full life." Her final argument being that time isn't as valuable as experience because we all "complete."

For The Island, clones are charming, naive and childish, but quickly learn, only because of a failure in the system, what they are and what will happen to them. From there... it's just any action movie. It's Total Recall. For Never Let Me Go, clones are charming, naive and childish, but slowly learn about life (not because they lack the capacity, but because they seem to lack the need) in a system that NEVER fails to keep them in line. From there... it's a tragedy, but a tempered one. It's a more painful tragedy. As viewers we can't do anything to halt the system, to at least save Mulligan's Kathy. They won't run. We can't make them. So, while both films show Science gone awry. And both films imply that the wealthy will access the greatest care in the future with no regard for the human life created to meet their requirements. Only Bay's action flick offers humanity an escape. Instead, Never Let Me Go leaves us with a lamentful thought and, perhaps, the knowledge that some people (the teachers at the Clone Academy) fought to show that all these kids have souls. Where The Island becomes a thriller, Never Let Me Go turns to the dour reality of bureaucracy. It shows that if we started growing humans for harvest today, there would be opposition, but only from those who cared never to benefit. It asks a greater question about human nature. And poses the terrifying answer that each of us will almost always look out for ourselves given the chance.

Same premise. Same theme. Same Science villain. One side tells of revolution, allegorical American resistance. The other side tells of silent, disappointed whispers as life is yanked from three kids piece by piece. They ask the same questions. What is human life? What makes you a person? Who deserves to die in the name of another? But these films ask them in different ways. And the elegance and inflection is what makes the questions most resonant. Remember to look at the people you pass on the street and see them as people, persons, like you. If you actively do that, you will feel differently. That's all.

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St. Vincent - Strange Mercy

There will be no arguments, no complaining, and definitely no temper tantrums. The only acceptable reaction is quiet distemper, with a heaping side of malicious mischief. Strange Mercy, St. Vincent's forthcoming third album, is all of those things, and because of its epic, complex, multi-layered awesomeness, you will listen to it and you will buy it. It is a commandment. And it's also in the title. Strange Mercy is an album throughout which, to her greatest ability thus far, Tulsa's Annie Clark combines the austere creepiness of noir fantasy with pure vocal and melodic beauty. On one hand, this new album is her strangest, her darkest and her most directly lamentative, but it's also her most enlightened, most sweepingly arranged and most brilliant. Strange Mercy hearkens back to some of the softer side that made 2007's Marry Me so revelatory, lightening up on the grungy guitar rasp of 2009's Actor. But where Annie Clark cuts back on the heavy sounds, she fills in with tone and mood accents that up the creepiness as necessary, and in turn, exponentially up the tension between horror and beauty, strange and merciful.

Opening with the hypnotizing, unsettling "Chloe in the Afternoon," Strange Mercy sets its psychologically weighty tone immediately. But it's with "Cruel," and its video appeared here just a short while ago, and "Cheerleader" that the beauty-horror meets best with complex harmonies, pristine vocals and themes that stagger and mystify as they entertain. On the former, Clark sings of the abuse that lies in not valuing oneself, letting oneself be taken and then taken advantage of. On the latter, easily my favorite track after two listens, she intones "I don't want to be a cheerleader any more," in haunting, gorgeous tones. The ante is upped once more with "Surgeon" and the building, energetic and boil-over-into-electronics beauty of "Northern Lights." What's clear, through the first half of Strange Mercy is that St. Vincent is no longer just an idea about making palatable indie rock that's a little unsettling. It's now about making unsettling rock that is undeniably palatable... even lovable.



"Strange Mercy" reins the chaos in a bit, with a synthy, echoing track that is half love letter, half ransom note. Even as Clark's beautiful vocals say wonderful things, there's a hint of danger, especially when she speaks of what she'll do if she ever "meet[s] the dirty police man who roughed you up." On "Neutered Fruit" a choral beginning turns quickly to a feeling of ghosts moaning in the darkness. The guitar, with some especially strong riffs, comes through most here. "Champagne Year" has a very Leonard Cohen quality, but with another point of dark self-reflection as Clark sings "I make a living, telling people what they want to hear." The rest of the song is spent qualifying that choice, slowly, sweetly, but somewhat desperately. "Dilettante" is more direct, with crunchier guitars and a stronger rock vibe. With a jaunty, wobbling beat, "Hysterical Strength" lives and dies by fuzziness and a sense that there's nearly a olde timey piano fight about to occur, in ghost town. But it's on "Year of the Tiger" that St. Vincent really knocks everything out of the park. A heavy bass drum breaks down to a very beautiful acoustic guitar strum that while spare feels powerful and complete. Moments like these, where an album diverges from most of its previous sound, make me wonder if it's a hint of things to come. It's a beautiful song.



Strange Mercy is available for a limited time through NPR's First Listen. You can also pre-order it through the official Beggars Group website. I suggest you do both.

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Josie Charlwood covers "Feel Good Inc."

Here's your holy-shit-how-wonderful-is-the-universe moment of the day. Josie Charlwood, whose great tunage can be purchased here, does a madcap super-looping cover of the Gorillaz "Feel Good Inc." And guess what, it's better than everything, ever! Observe the various personas she takes on easily and god-damn-staggeringly. And you know, listen to it 5 - 100 times, because that's what Friday's are for. That and ice cream sandwiches. Gorgeous. And 'like' her on facebook too... unless you're a goon.

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How To Dress Well - Just Once EP

Way way way back in 2010, when we were all but glimmers in our fathers' eyes and still dreaming of the days we'd be knee high to a June bug, How To Dress Well also known as Tom Krell released Love Remains. The album did some amazing things with R&B and melody, but was most notable for the extreme layers of static and fuzz piled over top. In fact, the fuzz, to me, buried any melody there was. So much so that I only gave the album a few listens before turning toward other cacophonous fuzz merchants like Sleigh Bells. Hearing that this new EP, Just Once, from How To Dress Well, has dialed back the fuzz (more accurately, scraped, raked and chopped it all away like a machete to jungle overgrowth) I had to give it a shot, just to know if I had missed something. Turns out, I had. The EP illustrates, as a companion piece/alternate take on a couple of Love Remains' tracks, that Tom Krell's R&B and Soul sensibilities are turned up to amazing. And save for some minor vocal failings, Just Once is exactly the Rosetta Stone one may need to go back and listen to Love Remains with fresh and understanding ears.

On the somber "Suicide Dream 1" Krell pours his heart out and an arrangement of sparse piano and layer vocals gives the song additional weight and emotion. It's a brilliant version and a clearer feel than on the original. This becomes even more pronounced on the beautiful, and really, my favorite on the EP, "Suicide Dream 2," in which Krell's voice is strongest. (Check out the originals via YouTube below.) These end up showing all of the influences Krell has throughout the Soul and R&B world. And the only weakness, really the only weakness, is that Krell sometimes over-extends his voice. But even that only bothered me once, as I was so easily lost in the melody. The relatively huge "Suicide Dream 3" follows. A new song for the EP, it features a hefty string accompaniment. And Krell's voice is a bit more buried here, but the end result is just as beautiful as a sunset, but more sad because you can't be sure you'll hear the song again. The closer is a reworked version of "Decisions" that keeps the beat and a lot of the original layering, but just peels back the fuzz. And it works great. You'll love it. I swear.





Listen to How To Dress Well's Just Once EP below, then make a couple clicks and buy a digital copy. Now, I'm gonna go back to Love Remains and listen to it again and again, now that I better know the language.

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The Amends - The Amends

Just a couple weeks ago, I reviewed the Amends free EP, a collection of four songs that hinted at greatness, but also left me hungry for a clearer angle on the band's music. Releasing on July 23, and available for pre-order through their bandcamp site is that clearer angle in the form of a self-titled debut full-length. And the surprise with The Amends isn't that it's good, it's just how good and insightful it can be. Those moments of musical experimentation that were so thrilling on The Creatively Titled "Full Album Coming July" are everywhere on The Amends. And they appear to greater effect, tapping into just about every layer of post-punk, true-rock, sad-sack revelation and garage-door-exploding power riffing. Shared from the EP are "Dance," "Hey Regina," "Real Life" and a well-assembled studio version of the excellent, pseudo-olde-timey "Hotel Lobby." And, as they were before, they represent as the "holy shit, who are these guys?" tracks that will grab your brain. But wait, don't pick up that phone now, there's more!

Opening The Amends is a track called "Depraved" that rides a crunchy riff and swift, debonair vocals to a phenomenal, but brief guitar bridge. It possesses an undeniable groove and an exceptional lyric: "Love is just a metaphor." Following the brilliant "Dance" and "Hey Regina," is "Bored & Mean," which shows an incredible maturity and insight in lyric writing, chronicling the break down of a relationship in no uncertain terms. It's also perfectly decorated with keys that fit perfectly into the backdrop of once more groove-powerful guitar. Really. Great. Track. Then "Real Life" blows every one's minds, just as much as it did on the EP. "Down in the Water" lives by growling vocals and a potent drum line. It toes the line between punk and garage perfectly and features an incredible, dare I say "Wolf-Parade-ish" breakdown to end the track. But, then HOLY SHIT (and I don't drop the H-S bomb much here) the grunge and mellow groove returns with "Don't Tell Him," a song that drips with Black Keys-style blues/rock fuzz excellence. It also almost makes the role of "that guy who steals the other guy's girlfriend" seem heroic.

"Fall My Way" has a similar kind of passionate appeal at its core, but this time more sweetly and desperate. And the chorus is an instant catchy breakdown with a set of disparate and intriguing keys to fill in the gaps. And again, a great set of lyrics. Prior to "Hotel Lobby" in the closer position, is "Dandelion Man," a song with a great "Wild Horses"-era Rolling Stones vibe, but also the most harried lyrics. The song feels rushed at times, which works with the sort of desperate plea and stream of consciousness tone of the track, but the chorus, becoming so measured and carefully plotted, detracts somewhat. Still, this is a track that does some amazing things with music, taking full advantage of the keys/guitars combo that drives the Amends' sound. And then, we get "Hotel Lobby," which is phenomenal as a studio track too, though the vocals may be mixed a little high.

Tyler Taylor, vocalist, keyboardist and guitarist in the band says, "What we’ve tried to do with our first album is to create a kind of love letter to rock n roll—an attempt to create something new from the music that’s inspired us. Song by song, you’ll hear some blues, some punk, some indie anthems, some screaming guitar solos, some jangly pianos, and some old fashioned rock n roll. And it’s our hope that by the end you’ll also hear a unifying sound beneath the melodies and varying styles." He pretty much sums it up perfectly, which makes me glad that he's playing the music and not blogging about it. Check out their new album through their bandcamp site for pre-order and give some of these tracks a listen here in the stream below. But, really, throw these kids some cash because it's worth all of our time to find out what they can do with another record.

Latest tracks by The_Amends

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