Three Imaginary Girls - Capitol

The King Is Dead

Chris Estey — Fri, 11 Feb 2011 21:11:01 +0000

7.5

http://www.amazon.com/King-Dead-Decemberists/dp/B0049OSQ18/?tag=wwwthreeimagi-20

The-Decemberists-The-King-Is-Dead_event_main.jpeg

As most semi-popular music fans know, the two oldest stories in the history of the rock album as "art" is actually the same one from different ends. The grand, ornate, rococo resurrection - and the stripped down, for serious or fun reinvention. Dylan invented all this with his trilogy of amphetamine-fueled apocalypse pop in the mid-60s, and then followed it with LPs where he wore cowboy hats on the cover and tenderly rasped about throwing it all away.

As you may have heard, The Decemberists have kind of done that, too, on recent release The King Is Dead, after one or two double-LP length leviathans of noodly odysseys and noisy oracles, now coming down with some sunny, bittersweet folk-pop, but without leader Colin Meloy having to get all mashed up on a motorbike to do it.

Actually, there's lots less psychic damage and violent imagery here than on The Crane Wife and The Hazards of Love, but I'm really guessing. I have no stakes in whether or not the band should collaborate with Americana like-minded kin like neo-depression bellwether Gillian Welch, and twangle-guitarist Peter Buck here (and don't care a bit how many people think this sounds like an REM album; or rather, care as much about that as I did people in the 80s who thought REM albums sounded like Byrds albums from the 60s), or keep on expanding till they're at Tusk-level.

Also, while The Crane Wife may be my favorite Decemberists album because of that gleeful dusky murder ballad about Protestant children carving up passersby and a title track which sounds like the ghost of my dead mom pining for my also dead dad, I missed out on The Hazards of Love altogether, because it was all just so damned complicated to get into (my wife says it's great though, and I bought it for her, didn't get it for review, which shows our household invests in The Decemberists, for what that's worth).

The King Is Dead grows and grows on you, if you love sanded-down and souped up songs about romantic roadkill and clumsy thieves and hearing hushed rumors about the seasons changing from people with nothing else to gossip about. It has several of my most-enjoyed-songs-lately on it, such as the reasonably-assist-other's-burdens compassionate libertarianism of "Don't Carry It All," the bluesy grind-grass of "Calamity Song," and the early-evening pastoral funk of "Rox In the Box," all wheat-field winners. But if the concept of the "second side" of an "LP" still exists, the triple treat of first single "Down By The Water," "All Arise!" and "June Hymn" are dizzying. The middle song in particular is more than just fun, with some weary love compromises coming off as cranky affair raves, the lack of trust between singer and beloved seeming a bit (attractively) tawdry, even if the title pushes things a little too in the anthem direction.

Which is a good place to say that Meloy may have a problem writing a simple love song, but is hardly the James Joyce of indie rock write hacks like to hack write him out about hackity-hackity. And that somewhere, in the broad shouldered-solid and nestled-in-the-crook of the arm instrumental playing of The Decemberists, among the fairy tales and allegories and timeless lamentations, there is the universal connection we all crave: A tune to remember her or him by. The Decemberists deliver love songs behind a delightful veil, but don't mistake that for a mask.

Friday's recommended show: Dandy Warhols playing the hits at the Showbox {12/3}

imaginary liz — Mon, 29 Nov 2010 20:42:56 +0000

Given my love of all things Pacific Northwest and Britpop, it's no surprise that I have a soft spot for The Dandy Warhols. The band expertly blends the brashness and hook-laden landscapes of their UK influences with Portlander moxie. I had forgotten how much I dig on them until I their 2010 retrospective of their Capitol years (1995-2007) crossed my path. It doesn't have all of my favorite Dandy's songs but that's to be expected when they only have 14 spaces for classic tracks.

This Friday, December 3, 2010, The Dandy Warhols will be at the Showbox Market in support of this celebration of their fine Capitol catalog with Blue Giant opening. It's going to be a spectacular scene listening to them cut through the lesser hook'd album tracks and hitting all points "Not If Your Were The Last Junkie On Earth," "We Used To Be Friends," "The Last High" and playing a new recording, "This is The Tide."

Would it be to much to ask that they encore with some tracks from their debut album Dandys Rule: OK {one of my favorite albums of all time} even though it was released on indie label Tim/Kerr {in their pre-Capitol days}? The band is devoting a Portland show to their first two albums where Peter, Zia and Courtney will join up with original Dandy's drummer Eric Hedford for a one-time only performance of select tracks from the first 2 Dandy Warhols albums. This gig will be at the soon-to-be out of business all ages club Satyricon, where the band got their start back in 1994.

Let's all hope for {and request} "TV Theme Song" from Dandys Rule: OK!

Of the Blue Colour of the Sky

Imaginary Amie — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 20:51:36 +0000

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B002VT4UDG/?tag=wwwthreeimagi-20

OKGOOtBCotS.jpg

So here’s the story: OK Go won my heart at the (old) Crocodile one night when Damian Kulash awkwardly positioned himself center stage with one leg in a full cast, and proceeded to sing the sweet & funny "It’s Tough to Have a Crush When the Boy Doesn’t Feel the Same Way You Do" at the exact moment I knew that I was going to get dumped by the boy I attended the show with.

After that kismet (and rocking out to the rest of their songs), I made it a point to see them whenever they came to Seattle, which fortunately for me is pretty frequent. I am thrilled I got to see them perform their carefully choreographed "A Million Ways" dance live, even more thrilled when they came up with the "Here It Goes Again" treadmill dance—and have been loving each and every video and song they’ve released since.

The last Chop Suey show ended up with me out of breath and on the floor, clutching an orange tambourine and picking confetti out of my hair. All of this is a long-winded way of telling you that if you think all OK Go does is put out cute videos and make teenage girls swoon, you should reconsider, because not only are their live shows some of the BEST I’ve ever seen, their 2002 self-titled release OK Go and 2005’s Oh No will rock the hell out of you (no lie: every single time I play an OK Go song for someone they say; "Who is this? It’s really good!"), and their newest, Of the Blue Colour of the Sky, is even better.

The band, made up of Damian (lead vocals & guitar), Tim Nordwind (bass & vocals), Dan Knopka (drums) and Andy Ross (keys, guitar & vocals), takes this album from what I like to call 'pop with a rock-n-roll edge' to a more effects-laden sound with a little bit of disco. And this is exactly what I love about OK Go: they’re not afraid to take chances, and they change their sound and grow a little bit more with every album.

Starting out with the trippy groove of "WTF?"— also their first video off this album, then moving on to the dance-y and optimistic "This Too Shall Pass" (complete with ooh-ooh-oohs), they hit a more mellow groove with "Skyscrapers" (the intensity with which Damian rasps; "I was blind" over and over nearly brings me to tears). A distinctly Prince-like sound emerges on "White Knuckles", which is taking the lead as my fave track. "I Want You So Bad I Can't Breathe" showcases Kulash’s awesome vocal styling (He’s totally talking about me, right? Hey, a girl can dream). And as a companion to that tune, "Last Leaf" is yet another great acoustic song crooned by Damian with expert lovesickness.

Really it’s hard to pick out specific tracks, because as a whole OtBCotS blends seamlessly together into one awesome listen. After just a few songs, I knew that it was going to be one of my go-to albums for private-dance-party-rockin-out-crying-a-little-singing-along-total-music-bliss. My rec: get thee to your favorite local music store and buy it today. You won’t be sorry.

Streaming previews of The Decemberists new Hazards of Love album

Deborah Barnard — Tue, 24 Mar 2009 19:22:57 +0000

As I was browsing ChrisB's list of releases today, I saw that The Decemberists' new album was out today. The band drew me into their fold with their last release, The Crane Wife, so I was curious to see how the two albums compared.

There are two streams of the album that I can find, on Entertainment Weekly (must sign up to listen) and on their Myspace (no login necessary).

What do you think of the band's latest material?

The Decemberists are -- well, they're everywhere.

imaginary victoria — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 04:33:05 +0000

Listening parties and NPR and new shows, oh my!

It's Not Me, It's You

ChrisB — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 16:26:33 +0000

9.2

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B001OD6HNG/?tag=wwwthreeimagi-20

itsnotmeitsyou.jpg

In the United States,we like our celebrities to be perfect so we can revel in their flaws when they cease to be. The Olympic champion Michael Phelps achieved a perfect eight Gold Medals at the Beijing Olympics this past summer but the moralist echo chamber went into fast effect when he was photographed smoking marijuana at a party and lost sponsorship deals from Kellogg. How many discussions have you heard (or taken part in) regarding how fit a parent Britney Spears is? I bet it happens far more often than discussions as to how good her last two albums, Blackout or Circus, are (very and pretty, in that order).

What makes Britney’s Blackout album and, her British equivalent, Lily Allen’s It’s Not Me, It’s You albums so compelling is that they are pop stars cognizant of the bubble they live in and written from that perspective. We may not be able to live the life of a pop star, but those two albums give a glimpse into the life of one. Allen is not on the same leash that Britney is and she finds herself in the headlines for her lifestyle. She had gotten pregnant (and subsequently miscarried), had a television show that was quickly dropped and it was noted at least two awards ceremonies that she had too much (free) alcohol and embarrassed herself. In her early twenties and coming off the success of a hit first album (2006’s Alright, Still, Allen makes for good tabloid fodder.

It’s now early 2009 and Allen’s sophomore album, It’s Not Me, It’s You, is an early contender for album of the year. She may be a magnet for tabloids because she’s young, beautiful and has (had?) a hard-partying lifestyle, but she is also very intelligent and no contemporary pop star (ok, maybe Justin Timberlake) has a comparable grasp for what makes a hit song than Allen does.

This album’s recording was made in the public eye, with Allen immediately releasing demos and rough mixes of songs to her MySpace page or other spots on the internet. A track called “I Don’t Know” was an earlier incarnation of “The Fear” (the first single) and “Guess Who Batman” became “Fuck You”, etc. Yet everything she released left one with the impression that It’s Not Me, It’s You will be a very, very good pop record. She posted another fantastic track, “Who'd Have Known”, but said she left it off the final version of the record because she didn’t want to waste the time getting a sample cleared, but it did eventually appear on the final version of the record.

It’s Not Me, It’s You opens with “Everyone’s At It”, a pop song about the hypocrisy of the culture she lives in. The song slowly builds up into a thoughtful (and sometimes funny) critique of the culture we live in. When she sings “so your daughter is depressed, let’s get her straight on Prozac; little do you know she already takes crack”, the best pop star in the world gets the last laugh.

“The Fear” is the second song and lead single. It mocks the image that Allen is supposed to have as the troubled pop star. “I want to be rich and have lots of money; I don’t care about clever, I don’t care about funny,” she sings in the opening verse and later reconciles “it don’t matter because I’m packing plastic, that’s what makes my life so fucking fantastic.”

Produced by Greg Kurstin, the album has a much more contemporary sound than the ska-inflected pop of her debut album, Still, Alright, which is sort of ironic because Kurstin’s own band, The Bird and the Bee, used a much more nostalgic pop sound on their latest album, Ray Guns are not just the Future. Here, Kurstin co-wrote most of the songs with Allen and found a consistent sound whose melodies fit very well with Allen’s lyrics and harmonies.

“Fuck You” is a screed against George Bush, who presided as a president of the very slim majority (very large minority?) that elected him. She mocks the issues with his father but it has catchy hooks that fit with the song well. It was released online during a time when Bush was still president and makes light of his homophobia. Fortunately, Allen gets the last laugh because Bush is unemployed in the (bear) economy his presidency created.

Even when she deals with subjects beyond her (i.e., God and the afterlife), her pop instincts guide her through the songs about her relationship with her God. It probably is not a coincidence that Allen’s “Him” and Kanye West’s “Jesus Walks” are the most interesting songs about faith (to me, an admitted atheist) about individual faith because they are written by two individuals aware of their imperfections (ok, Kanye may not be) and grapple with that in song, while not forgetting the knack for a catchy hook that sounds instinctive.

It’s Not Me, It’s You is not a completely perfect album (“Back to the Start” is sung way too fast for its hook to take effect, for example), but it is the final result is of a very gifted pop star who is aware of the price that comes with fame but still wants to live a life she is comfortable with. Lily Allen has the wisdom of an industry veteran because they hype machine tried to swallow her whole, but she is she is still way too smart to let that happen – or at least go down without a fight. It’s Not Me, It’s You is that fight.

What makes Britney’s Blackout album and, her British equivalent, Lily Allen’s It’s Not Me, It’s You albums so compelling is that they are pop stars cognizant of the bubble they live in and written from that perspective.

Stream Lily Allen's new record on MySpace

ChrisB — Tue, 03 Feb 2009 16:33:26 +0000

It's Not Me, It's You is going to be released next Tuesday - and, as a reminder, Easy Street Records is open until midnight on Mondays.

More details on Lily Allen's new record (!!!!!!!!)

ChrisB — Wed, 29 Oct 2008 17:15:47 +0000

Lily Allen's second record, It's Not You, It's Me, is scheduled for release on February 10, 2009 on Capitol Records.

Toxic Tuesday

Chris Estey — Wed, 30 Jul 2008 00:44:50 +0000

I have the feeling this song might become a guilty pleasure on many snob's iPod rotation in the following months...

Dan In Real Life soundtrack

Diana Salier — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 17:56:20 +0000

7.8

http://www.amazon.com/Dan-Real-Life-Sondre-Lerche/dp/B000VI710S/wwwthreeimagi-20/

51ZZeC0n4SL._AA240_.jpg

With all the talk that Juno has inspired on the topic of film soundtracks overshadowing the film itself, it's refreshing to come across Norwegian pop songwriter Sondre Lerche's collection of tracks for 2007's Dan In Real Life. The 11 original songs serve their intended purpose as backdrop for the film's story, making use of acoustic guitars and keyboards, sparse instrumentation and slow swells ("Dan In Real Life"; "Family Theme"; "Dan And Marie Picking Hum") and picking up the pace when the film itself takes action, like in the final scene's "Dan And Marie Finale Theme."

But some of these songs are great to listen to on their own, most notably the lazy and lilting "I'll Be OK," which could do double duty on both a long summer evening or an early autumn morning. Lerche also covers Pete Townsend's "Let My Love Open the Door," an acoustic guitar and violin rendition that more than makes up for Steve Carrell and Dane Cook's performance of the same song in one of the film's pivotal moments. "Hell No" is a relaxing, lounge pop-esque number that sees Lerche team up on vocals with Regina Spektor.

And for those who have seen the movie, I was excited to find the bonus 17th track of the cast singing "Ruthie Pigface Draper," a fun ending cap to an otherwise very worthy soundtrack.

With all the talk that Juno has inspired on the topic of film soundtracks overshadowing the film itself, it's refreshing to come across Norwegian pop songwriter Sondre Lerche's collection of tracks for 2007's Dan In Real Life.

"fuck oj, don't you wanna know where kato is?"

imaginary dana — Tue, 18 Sep 2007 16:41:22 +0000

It's not every day I get an email from Ben Lashes, frontman for Seattle pop band the Lashes, and I've certainly never gotten one with such a compelling title before.

The Decemberists spreading joy this Fall

imaginary liz — Thu, 23 Aug 2007 18:39:43 +0000

There's a lot of stuff going on in the Decemberist camp these days. They've committed to bringing us a new EP, The Perfect Crime #2 EP (scheduled for release on September 25th) and a US tour featuring multiple-night stands (with a different program each night).

Our Love To Admire

imaginary stella — Mon, 23 Jul 2007 04:09:56 +0000

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000PY32CO/wwwthreeimagi-20

interpolourlove.jpg

The third release from New York dolls Interpol is exactly what we’ve come to expect from the four lads: a beautiful, melancholic exploration of sound and texture.

It’s interesting now to revisit how I felt when the debut, Turn on the Bright Lights, first came out. I was staggered by the sound: Immediately throw-back/retro, but sublimely new again. It filled the nooks and crannies of my soul that had been worn a bit thin. I say it’s interesting to reconsider this feeling, because now Interpol are a huge part of my musical repertoire: They’re a staple, a go-to. It’s tough to imagine having them not in my collection. Interpol’s once-surprising, happily unsettling sound is now like my favorite glass of Rosso... trusty, reliable, undeniably good.

While the band has grown, infusing more instrumentation and vocal layers into their third album, Our Love To Admire still sounds like an Interpol record: a good thing, since this is their first on a major label (Capitol), and it could’ve gone either way. The bigwigs were able to draw on Interpol’s established sound, coaxing more out of their natural tendencies rather than steering them into a new direction.

Our Love is comfortable yet sexy and wandering. It’s poppy and hit-laden (See “The Heinrich Maneuver,” the album’s first single), slightly different, slightly more progressed than the previous two, but still familiar and true to the band’s core. Paul Banks’ voice is more pointed and stronger than ever, especially on the shudderingly gorgeous “Pioneer to the Falls." Daniel Kessler’s shimmering guitars are still resplendent (again highlighted on “Pioneer”). Sam Fogarino’s drums boom and crash and thunder in perfectly layered textures behind the melodies. Carlos D’s basslines jag and bounce their way around the record, lending the signature dance-vibe to the otherwise gloomy melodies.

“Pioneer” is clearly a highlight, and the perfect way to open the album. It’s dark, masochistic even. (Excerpt lyric: “Show me the dirt pile and I will pray.”) Not until the 2.30-minute checkpoint does it finally lift, into Kessler’s waterfall-like warbling guitars (or is it a mandolin?). But don’t think Interpol then launch into a pop ballad; no, the tension resumes, and the track concludes with a very Morrissey-esque tactic: inserting a chorale of understated, minor-key horns.

Another top number is “Rest My Chemistry,” wherein Banks and company manage to make the inner workings of a coke-addled brain (Banks’ own? You decide.) sound so titillating. Banks’ delivery of lines like “You look so young, like a daisy in my lazy eyes” make me swoon — even against my better judgment, knowing the subject matter. My favorite song of the lot is unfortunately one that only folks who preordered the album through iTunes (or those who seek the Japanese import) will hear: “Mind Over Time.” It’s worth seeking. “Mammoth” grates a bit, though I suspect intentionally. It’s layered with a truly rock-heavy guitar lick, alongside Banks angrily spitting out lyrics like “spare me the suspense” and “enough with this fucking incense.”

There is one dud: the morose, monotonous “The Lighthouse.” But even it finds its groove toward the end of the track, making me question whether “dud” is the correct word here. Either way, one track out of 11 (12) is not a bad ratio. I’m not shocked by these odds. Interpol was a well-oiled machine from the start. Even their flaws worked. Their songs continue to fill my soul, as any good staple should. And on Our Love, Interpol show that they’re in it for the long-haul.

As Banks says on “No I in Threesome,” “life is wine.” Every now and again, I crave a familiar taste but with a bit more punch. When it’s wine, I reach for the Claret — a more developed exploration of those same familiar, comforting flavors found in my Rosso, but with a bit more pep. When it’s Interpol, I suspect I’ll now reach for Our Love to Admire. Drink up.

Every now and again, I crave a familiar taste but with a bit more punch. When it’s wine, I reach for the Claret — a more developed exploration of those same familiar, comforting flavors found in my Rosso, but with a bit more pep. When it’s Interpol, I suspect I’ll now reach for Our Love to Admire. Drink up.

Sound of Silver

Erik Gonzalez — Thu, 29 Mar 2007 08:00:00 +0000

9.7

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000M3452Y/wwwthreeimagi-20

lcdsoundsystem07mar.jpg

I normally attempt not to be hyperbolic with my reviews, but if you buy one album in this, let's say, decade, LCD Soundsystem's Sound of Silver would be a profoundly wise choice.

James Murphy has constructed an album that not only embraces but transcends the genres it flits between, from trance to down-right balladry. LCD Soundsystem has refined their (his?) song-making technique, and also shown that Murphy can hold his own as a singer, something most post-electronic digit tweakers can't claim. Sound of Silver is evidence that rock music has a future, even if it doesn't know that this is its future.

An excellent departure for looking at Sound of Silver might be a quick look back at the first, self-titled LCD Soundsystem album. That album is worth its coin merely by collecting some of the early LCD Soundsystem singles such as “Losing My Edge” and “Yr City's a Sucker” on a bonus disc, but the true album itself is chock full o' musical gems like “Daft Punk is Playing at My House” and 'Tribulations," landing the debut at #3 on my best of 2005 list.

Sound of Silver expands LCD beyond the dance-oriented, DFA sound to become something more universal. Sure, the opening minute of “Get Innocuous!” is a very conscience shout-out to “Losing My Edge,” but instead of being purely dance music, it veers into a world of post-disco magic, evoking both New Order and “Fame”-era Bowie simultaneously. Although “Time to Get Away” might be the least interesting song on Sound of Silver, it shows the dynamic growth in Murphy's song-smithing (by the way, LCD trivia: Murphy passed up a chance to be a writer on Seinfeld. Go figure), taking a page out of the fellow DFA alumnus, the Rapture, showing that LCD Soundsystem can make pure dance-rock with the best of them. Now, if you're looking for Sound of Silver's “Daft Punk is Playing at My House," then look no further than “North American Scum” -- it's raucous and infectious. Whether it's an indictment or ode to North Americans is immaterial to the post-punk Le Tigre electroclash sound. If we ever needed another “Loser”-type song to take the nation by storm this summer, this could be it.

This first third of the album is the most dicey portion you'll hear, but only because what you're up against next is breathtaking. “Someone Great” is pure ecstasy – it's hard to describe all the bits and pieces spliced into this marvel. It's part Postal Service, part Orbital, part Depeche Mode, part undefinable. It has such a gentle tone without sounding too soft and fragile; it practically melts in your ears (OK, maybe tha'ts an odd description, but listen and you'll know what I mean). The song itself might be about a breakup, but does that matter? It's a bittersweet anthem that just re-inforces the refined nature of Sound of Silver and the idea that Murphy isn't just a studio genius but a helluva a songwriter.

“All My Friends” only suffers from being directly after a moment of bliss like “Someone Great," but the banging piano opens and morphs into a mid-80's alternative rock homage with bits of Echo & the Bunnymen, U2, and Joy Division all at once (Murphy even has an uncanny bit of Bono is his voice). “Us V. Them” is much more like what you might expect from LCD Soundsystem, building itself up into a frenzy like “Losing My Edge," while “Watch the Tapes” is downright punk set to a sequencer. The title track of Sound of Silver is an anthem for middle age as Murphy drones, "The sound of silver talk to me/makes you want to feel like a teenager/until you remember the feelings of a real live emotional teenager/then you think again." The song itself is the most ambient and, well, sweet, LCD has ever sounded, almost like the Fall meets the Orb, bubbling and gurgling in pop wonderment.

If you think you've heard everything Murphy has to offer at this point, oooh no, you are mistaken. It's dumbfounding to hear the album's closing number, “New York, I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down." Suddenly, Murphy has morphed into a hybrid of Tom Waits and Daniel Johnston, alternately between a piano troubadour and warbling singer-songwriter. The bitter love song to the city of New York is genius, right down criticisms like, "so the boring collect -- I mean all disrespect/In the neighborhood bars I'd once dreamt I would drink/New York I love you/but you're freaking me out." There is nothing in the LCD Soundsystem oeuvre that prepares you for this balladry that Murphy just waltzes into like he's been doing all his life, crooning, "Like a death of the heart/Jesus, where do I start?/but you're still the one pool where I'd happily drown." The song explodes into a pure show-stopper that would make Tom Jones proud, right down to the flagrant guitar solo crashes along until the tempo drops and the piano come back.

Maybe this album is just coming to me at the right time, but Sound of Silver doesn't really have a chink in its armor. Sure, it's only nine songs long, limiting the chances for deadweight, but the astronomical step-forward James Murphy has accomplished from the already excellent LCD Soundsystem is hard to fathom. If anyone will bring true respect to those studio nerds and turntable artists, Murphy could do it with Sound of Silver. It takes LCD Soundsystem from being merely a cute little act to a landmark in a time when music is grasping for its next big thing.

I normally attempt not to be hyperbolic with my reviews, but if you buy one album in this, let's say, decade, LCD Soundsystem's Sound of Silver would be a profoundly wise choice.

The Crane Wife

Chris Estey — Wed, 29 Nov 2006 08:00:00 +0000

7.5

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000HKDEEW/wwwthreeimagi-20

decemberists06nov.jpg

I have just had a good time listening to the major label debut of The Decemberists over and over, squeezing out sparks of joy and amusement at its invention and restrained ambition over the past few weeks. And cringing as I was reading logocentric critics blathering on about its supposed "literariness" and struggling with revulsion over its supposed "embrace of progressive rock."

Both of thjese comments are just angles hacks take to avoid spending more time with the music, absorbing the admittedly convoluted but compelling storytelling of bandleader Colin Meloy, in language not all that much more "literary" than anything on a Bob Dylan or an Elvis Costello album. Okay, so the combination of more obscure words and faintly archaic musical forms may suggest some sort of complicated nostalgic aesthetic on the band's part, but to me it's no less organic than the Pogues. There's just a little less male prostitution and getting kicked in the nards by the cops.

But before getting my own ass beat down by a score of Celtic crusty punks, just think about it — Shane McGowan reads plenty of books too and warbles yarns as well and never himself fought on the seas. And his voice has the same hypnotic persistence that creates a consistent style to deliver the songwriting. The characters in Decemberists' songs don't betray the strange back-story of the album's concept, some sort of Japanese fairy tale about husbands and cloth and I don't really remember much else.

The real story here is the quietly lush and modestly robust production of this smooth song cycle by the irresistible Tucker Martine and Chris Walla (the Nick Lowe of the new millenium), both of whom crisply capture the band's noir-funkiness in "The Perfect Crime #2" as well as the stark horror of the "Shankill Butchers." These guys capture the Meloy's deft ability to sing about anything, including murderous Protestant predators and political assassins, and the band's rootsy groove wherever required. Meloy is as empathetic as a narrator, as his troupe is sensitive to the meanings of the songs themselves. My only criticism is that sometimes I wonder if we admire The Decemberists more than we love them. But the fact that a major label has allowed them to remain respectable is an announcement in itself.

Back to the backlash: It could be, for as word-obsessed as reviewers are, they're not particularly intellectual themselves. There have been a few decades of fractured minimalism in pop song lyric writing we've all grown up on, and a certain sniping Dean of Rock Critics was never known for particularly appreciating true rock idiosyncrasy in the first place. As for progressive rock, yeah, one song is really freaking long, but that's about as "progressive rock" as things get.

The Crane Wife could use more levity, more varied vocals, more direct expression, to put it into an area like truly affecting Pogues territory. (The new Shins album is a great example of how to maintain one's style yet put some powder on its nose and spring in its step, too.) But the convincing emotionalism of the first (sort of title) track, the great vocal interplay between Meloy and Jenny Conlee on "Yankee Bayonet," and the empathetic narration of "Shankill Butchers" make this a strong record in spite of the daunting heft of its press kit and those to come.

Okay, so the combination of more obscure words and faintly archaic musical forms may suggest some sort of complicated nostalgic aesthetic on the band's part, but to me it's no less organic than the Pogues.

Road to Rouen

Chris Estey — Wed, 05 Oct 2005 07:00:00 +0000

6.7

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000B19BCG/wwwthreeimagi-20

supergrass05dec.jpg

Supergrass began their career as an utterly refreshing blast of weed-choked breath in the face through the dreary post-grunge years with such bubbling pop bong-hits as "Caught By The Fuzz" and "Pumping On Your Stereo." Although they spawned many imposters early on, the last few years seemed a bit aimless.

Three years on, Supergrass has resurrected themselves with their fifth full-length as a serious band with a lot to say complete with a stand-out garage-psych pop like "Kick In The Teeth" ("I just can't get my head around what you want"). Songs such as "Low C" and the percolating closing ballad "Fin" show that if anyone can emulate perfect Lennonesque melancholy, it's this British quartet. In fact, much of Road to Roeun sounds like latter period John Lennon, with fiercely intelligent but life-accepting lyrics set to sinewy but accessible rock music.

There are notable exceptions to this formula. The opening track "Tales of Endurance (Parts 4, 5 & 6)" is the most experimental, with vocals that come in at 2:00, and morphs from a spaghetti western soundtrack into a multi-part grinding Brit-blues. Few bands on major labels these days would try anything so risky right out of the gate on their belated come-back. They even throw in a geezing near-instrumental, "Coffee In The Pot," to prove they're not worried about commercial success much at all. They know they acquired their fans by their character; not by kissing the rings of programmers. When it pleased them to be pop, they were pop, and now are willing to "commit commercial suicide" as they sing here to keep pleasing themselves.

Three years on, Supergrass has resurrected themselves with their fifth full-length as a serious band with a lot to say complete with a stand-out garage-psych pop like "Kick In The Teeth."

Warnings/Promises

Chris Estey — Tue, 13 Sep 2005 07:00:00 +0000

6.8

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/B000AU9UUQ/wwwthreeimagi-20

idlewild05sept.jpg

Scottish band Idlewild will be in Seattle on September 30th at Neumo's. With each performance here, there seems to be a growing mutual love between the band and our fair city. The band's sound seems perfect for rented rooms overlooking the back alleys off the Ave on a rainy day, when you have no place to be (but that's not necessarily a good thing).

The band's new album Warnings/Promises just came out and it's a very consistently autumnal affair; an ennui-stricken, emotionally-restrained twelve song cycle about the push and pull in human relationships — how what seems lovely can be pendant in destruction as well.

It was recorded with Beck and Air producer Tony Hoffer this summer, giving it plenty of high-ceiling mansion-space for Roddy Woomble's moody, sort-of Brian Molko-cum-Michael Stipe vocals, resiliently supported by the meaty-n-occasionally dissonant dual guitars of Rod Jones and Allan Stewart. (The weird but still rhythmic beginnings of album centerpieces "I Want A Warning" and "the Space Between All Things" are beautifully captured, screw-lushly opening the scene for Woomble's romantic-despair storytelling.) This trip to California allowed the boys fun in the sunshine as they recorded Warnings/Promises, but the boys brought along plenty of the brooding they must do in the UK highlands to make this a soundtrack for a studio apartment rented after a particularly sudden and slashing break-up.

"As you pull your yellow-stained fingers through unkempt hair / (you're) stranger than even Los Angeles," Woomble sings in "The Space Between All Things," and it makes one wonder if his time in LA hadn't inspired some of his confessions as well. "It's like a theater where they never ask you to leave," he observes, in the middle of his emptiness, an emptiness he never ceases to remind you of ("an empty house almost filled up with hope," emphasis on 'almost').

Ultimately, the overall feeling of the full-length is more warning than promise. "You're protected by the smoke from your cigarette," Woomble sings in "As If I Hadn't Slept," and I can't help feeling the same way about this collection of songs — he's describing a human he experiences who feels like a shadow, and the consistently depressing tone of Warnings/Promises tends to blow past me the same way. I get a good drag of its grey intelligence into me, so the anxiety of the moment is erased, but I'm not sure how much of a habit I'd want to make it.

Ultimately, the overall feeling of the full-length is more warning than promise.

Oh No

Chris Estey — Sun, 21 Aug 2005 07:00:00 +0000

6.8

http://www.capitolrecords.com/

okgoredwalls05aug.jpg

The Redwalls — "De Nova" {6.3}
Buy it!
{Capitol Records}

These are both second albums by Chicago-based rock bands that have been together since the turn of the century, and will be playing at the Crocodile Café with the Colour on Wednesday, August 31st.

Both are on Capitol Records, and are a sharp cut above the usual major label "rock band" fare. If you go to the show this week, the beer will taste good in your mouth, as the creative songwriting and infectious rhythms will make you dance at least a little (well, okay, this is Seattle, I've seen people not dance at a Gossip show, so that might be too much to hope for).

OK Go has a literate but tough, more meat-and-potatoes hard alternative sound, Damian Kulash's vocals reminding one of Damon Blairn, sounding like a heartland American version of good English New Wave-influenced rock. They cut their teeth as the "house band" on This American Life on NPR. "Seems Like A Good Idea At The Time," the wonderfully sarcastic response to "Sympathy for the Devil" picks on the Stones for their lack of real street credibility, and begins with great Cars-style clipped guitars then cranking up into R&B-punk like the Boys.

Immediately following is"Trust"-era sweet Costello-style soul on "Oh Lately It's So Quiet." The final three tracks on "Oh No" are particularly note-worthy (the caustic and clever "Television, Television" — speaking of Elvis C., ahem), throwing in a little mid-tempo Split Enz (the moody and catchy "Maybe This Time"), and ending with the very smart and infectious anthem ("The House Always Wins" — "You don't have to be alone to be lonely / you might as well give in"). They've bashed Bush publicly, and written a column for a Japanese magazine — apparently, their intelligence isn't merely an image they're promoting.

The younger, cuter Redwalls isn't quite as diverse or hard-rocking — although their ability to drone melodically but intensely on the magnificent "White Album"-sounding "Back Together" shows a little more natural ability than all the bunched-riffs on "Oh No." All the (in their early 20s) vocalists seem quite immersed in the Book of Beatles, while the music oscillates between a variety of 60s inspirations, from Small Faces to the Stones to the Yardbirds. The stuttering, profane, and fabulous anti-FCC rant "Falling Down" is a perfectly-paced anthem against censorship, never forsaking melody in its expression of mocking spite.

There are some songs on "De Nova" that don't seem well thought out enough to stick around for long, but then the band strips down and shows real brains and balls enough to write the venomous "Glory Of War" near the end of the album. The final track, "Rock & Roll," honestly feels like it was crafted in a cellar club in Hamburg thirty years ago — Really.

Why should you care about these two major-label bands? They rock convincingly, and probably both kick ass live. Just as importantly, they are not afraid to be politically progressive even in their art, which seems brave these days when many indie artists often cover up their reactionary politics with aesthetic snobbery.

Real, relevant rock and roll — you won't catch me snobbing at it.

AstroPOP! for August 2003

chilly c — Sat, 02 Aug 2003 07:00:00 +0000

Imaginary rock and roll astrology CD reviews for August 2003

Leo {July 23-August 22}
Ah, summer! The long, hot days, the glare of the sun, the constant sweating. It's ok to admit it, Leo, you hate summer. You want to crawl into a hole dark and deep enough to beat the heat until we set the clocks back in the fall. Now I won't argue with you if you want to avoid the daylight (after all, I am an astrologer whose very job depends on waiting for nightfall when the stars come out) but at least take some artificial light with you: listening to Sounds of Summer - The Very Best of the Beach Boys (Capitol) is like spending a day at the beach without the greasy smear of sunblock and the grit of sand in your shorts. Like the hot season itself, a Beach Boys greatest hits reissue has become an annual ritual that you just can't escape. This year's model comes with some new stereo mixes including "California Girls," "Dance, Dance, Dance," and "Shut Down." The spooky "Heroes and Villains" is still the creepiest song ever recorded by the Beach Boys—and that includes their Charles Manson cover! "Heroes" helps balance out the wide-eyed naivety of longtime favorites like "Surfer Girl," "Help Me, Rhonda" and "Little Deuce Coupe." True, I suppose it's possible that 80 minutes of good-time sugary harmony might send you screaming from your hibernation cave, but look on the bright side, Leo—at least you'll be getting some fresh air!

Virgo {August 23-September 22}
You haven't gotten this far on your own, Virgo. This month you need to acknowledge those who have given you guidance along the way: your fourth grade art teacher, your first boss at your lawn-mowing service job, your grandmother. Like yourself, Sacramento/New York-based !!! knows where they come from. Without ever getting jokey, the eight-piece band pays homage to a record store's worth of forebears with an exuberant mix of funk/dance/punk, giving musical props to the Gap Band, James Chance, Gang of Four, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Kool and the Gang, New Order, and, ok, even Kenny Loggins with their new 2-song ep single Me and Giuliani Down by the School Yard (A True Story) (Touch and Go). Both nine-minute songs squiggle and shimmy across the floor with such ease it makes you wonder why it's taken punks this long to want to dance (jumping up and down in one place notwithstanding). It just goes to show that it's never to late to tell someone that they've changed your life. Can you feel it intensify? Good, now go on and give grandma a call...

Libra {September 23-October 22}
Good luck is in the stars for you this month, Libra. You just got to believe, to paraphrase... I don't know, Lenny Kravitz—or Ravenna. It's obvious that Ravenna believe in something—cynics are never this passionate. Their debut cd Interruption (Broucek) spills over with emotional surges and lyrical appeals to "savor these times" and "try a different kind of breathing." The strong band is led by multi-pedaled guitarist Noel Paul, who clearly loves Radiohead so much that when he hears the National Anthem at baseball games I'll bet he says "th-they're playing the wrong song!" Vocalist Shelby Earl sings with crystalline, enunciated beauty, like Tori Amos without the anger. The songs rise, fall and rise again with a majestic sweep that belies the lo-fi basement recording. Libra, hang your good luck on Ravenna, because their star is only going to rise.

Scorpio {October 23 - November 21}
Your stubborn streak this month has its downside, Scorpio. Sure, when your mouth runs on autopilot you tend to speak more freely, but what about the feelings of others? And apologies are a bitch, aren't they? It's time to take it down a notch. Gently. First, get calm with the very mellow Britta "Jem" Phillips/Dean Wareham collaboration L'Avventura (Jetset). It definitely sounds like more than just 50% of Luna: languid, half-spoken melodies, "Pale Blue Eyes"-inspired guitar, impeccable rhythm. The kicker here is that half the record is covers: from Madonna ("I Deserve It") to the Silver Jews ("Random Rules") to a surprisingly tender take on the Doors' "Indian Summer." Luna's signature sound unifies what could have been disjointed mess; Wareham and Phillips sensitively handle the disparate range of material. Soak up that sensitivity, Scorpio. You've got some fences to mend, and you're going to need it. And if Wareham & Phillips can come clean with a Doors cover, then you certainly can manage an "I'm sorry."

Sagittarius {November 22-December 21}
So lately you just feel different, Sagittarius? Look up. See those stars up there? See how they form a little heart-shaped pattern? That means that love is, quite literally, in the air for you this month. Romance is about to blossom in all its fascinating, creepy glory—not unlike the way the new Eisley ep Laughing City (Record Collection) makes me both shiver and shine at the same time. Not since Bjork ran through that weird forest of bears and bunnies has the natural world been portrayed with such a compelling mixture of wonder, simplicity and terror: "On the mossy turf we'll dance 'til our feet shatter / our toes will splinter." Girls sprout wings, lightbulbs in pockets light up the woods, butter clouds drip into mouths. The Eisley sisters sing these lyrics with a starry-eyed other-worldliness that should serve as a caveat for you, Sag: love makes you feel many things, but most of all it makes you feel different.

Capricorn {December 22-January 19}
You don't just live your life, Capricorn. You "live" your "life." Yes, your entire month is in quotes—a densely-woven dookie chain of irony, self-awareness, and attitude. The best way to let everybody know about your new meta-lifestyle is to grab an old skool boom box and blast So Stylistic (Tommy Boy), the debut cd from Brooklyn's Fannypack, everywhere you go. A delicious mixture of Deee-Lite, Lil Kim and JJ Fad, Fannypack hides two old male DJ's behind three underage rapper girls. Cat, Belinda and Jessibel bring plenty of sass and surprising rhyming skills, and their voices-in-unison giggle with so much wink-winkin' that you'd swear the flutter of their heavily-shadowed eyelids never stops. Fannypack teases mega-stardom like it was the nerdy kid in the locker room. Sure it may be staged and calculated, but meta-lifers like yourself sleep through sincerity the way Jessibel sleeps through English class. C'mon Capricorn, let's get famous! Endquote.

Aquarius {January 20-February 18}
People can't always get a bead on you, Aquarius, and it frustrates you. This month you've got to make a choice: either enjoy your intrinsic inscrutableness, or speak up and tell us how you really feel. When you turn off your phone and stay shut in your room, are you truly depressed? Or are you "pulling a Mogwai?" Since their inception in 96, the Scottish five-piece has been writing songs that get labeled 'depressing' but really aren't depressing at all. Their title of their latest release, Happy Songs For Happy People (Matador), will probably get called 'ironic' a lot more than 'spot-on,' but to me the songs' churning guitars and dreamy melodies are cinematic and uplifting. Snappier than Sigur Ros, more traditionally tuneful than Massive Attack, Mogwai will be our clue—if we hear lead-off track "Hunted By A Freak" from your locked bedroom door, we'll know that you're feeling, well, happy.

Pisces {February 19-March 20}
You love the summer, Pisces, so much so that anyone can see the positive changes in you. The good weather makes the best parts about you get even better. You and the Oly, Wa quartet All Girl Summer Fun Band (K). Bolder and brighter than their 2002 debut, AGSFB's just-released 2 pogoes with abandon, cranks the amps, and displays more chutzpah and ambition than the last ten K Records releases combined. Sure, the band still shambles in places, but I'll wager that the eventual "3" will take out the Donnas by this time next summer. As it is, "Dear Mr. & Mrs. Troublemaker" is super-catchy and features the best use of a typewriter-as-percussion I've heard in a long time. As for you, Pisces, make sure you're storing up some of this good energy so that when the cold comes you won't be left out in it. Keep the All Girl Summer Fun Band close at hand, and you'll always have a great pop song and a sunny day in your heart.

Aries {March 21-April 19}
Aries, you're a team player, a social animal, part of the crowd. But sometimes you like to stand out on your own. Denver Dalley co-fronted Desaparecidos with Conor Oberst, but he didn't want to wait out yet another leg of the Bright Eyes tour before getting started on a new Desaparecidos cd. So Dalley formed Statistics and wrote and played everything himself (except some drums). For a one-man-show, Statistics' self-titled ep is a bit murky as a statement of purpose. The lead-off track "Another Day" adds keyboard loops to the Desa-style circular-riff guitar and repeats the existentialist's favorite lament "I wish I wasn't me." The rest of the ep plays out like a fast-paced, half-remembered dream that doesn't make a whole lot of sense—radio static and quiet guitar arpeggio interludes surround the loud standout track "Hours Seem Like Days," a nostalgic look back when art (including music and films) was created by hand, not computers. I'm not sure what Dalley has against, I don't know, "Finding Nemo" or Depeche Mode, especially considering his own ep contains liberal use of programmed samples, but I'm trying to take him at his word. Like yourself, Aries, Dalley likes to set himself apart from everybody else. Unlike yourself, maybe he needs to be part of a group in order to truly stand out.

Taurus {April 20-May 20}
Whether it's a dazzling sunset or the hottie at your favorite espresso stand, it's easy for you to get blinded by beauty, Taurus. It's enough to make your eyes sting and water sometimes, isn't it? Seattle four-piece the Glasses get blinded repeatedly on their debut ep, Sunbreaks—by wished-for girls who never arrive, by the anger in a lover's quarrel, or by the "orange eye in the sky" itself. With a jangly guitar sound that evokes early Built to Spill fronted by Quasi's Sam Coombes, the Glasses make pop music with a refreshing sweetness and confidence. In "Last Stand in the Final Scene," the Glasses assert that "you can't push the pushover this time," and it's clear that the band will stand up for itself. Hardly the shoegazing type, the Glasses aren't afraid to look up, stare straight ahead, and play their songs to the sun. And Taurus, if it makes your eyes tear up a bit, you can always blame it on the bright light.

Gemini {May 21-June 21}
Jealousy. You're above that sort of thing. Yah, your friends are moving into houses while you're still scraping by to pay your apartment rent, and they're driving back to the burbs (like Maple Leaf and West Seattle) while you're riding the bus home from work. How do you keep the bile at bay while the 8 lurches across Denny Way? Listen to Fist Fights, Hot Love the debut cd from Seattle's supercharged garage/punk quartet, the Earaches. Gifted purveyors of short-blast hi-energy rock, the Earaches profess their love for the Stooges, the MC5, the Oblivians, and Dead Moon (among others) in their blister-hot songs. From lead-off salvo "Bust Out!" to the last-call closer "Just Wanna Rock 'n' Roll," the cd grabs and throttles you like a drunk brawler in the Monkeypub. Every three-chord, lo-fi band knows that the industry is sick with the 'garage band craze' right now, but the Earaches are smart enough to realize that they don't need to get on superhero movie soundtracks in order to testify. Album highlight "I Used to be a Loser" sums up the Earaches' don't-give-a-fawk stance: "now I just relax and enjoy the ride." Long after the Vines and the Hives are forgotten and the White Stripes are shilling cell phones, the Earaches will still be bashing out the hits, content enough just to be making music. Oh, and you probably won't ever be able to afford to buy a house either, Gemini. So, just relax and enjoy the ride.

Cancer {June 22-July 22} You need a fashion makeover this month, Cancer—a clever one that you can pull off by mixing and matching stuff that's already in your closet. While you're playing dress-up, listen to "District Sleeps Alone Tonight" (Sub Pop), the latest ep single from the Postal Service, for mash-up-style epiphanies. With a melody that recalls Liz Phair's "Canary" and a bass line borrowed from the Human League, the album version of "District" almost seems too comforting and familiar to truly conjure the detached loneliness that the song's lyrics describe. Enter the remix. DJ Downfall melds a corkscrew Manchester-style bass line and a crazy sped-up hi-hat to give his version a jarring, intense new heartbeat. Meanwhile, ace DJ John Tejada down-twists "Such Great Heights" to a slo-mo drawl and layers some distorted synth washes for maximum cough syrup effect. A hushed, spacious cover of the Flaming Lips' "Suddenly Everything Has Changed" rounds out the ep—in the same way your 80's Winger pin works perfectly with your Fred Perry running jacket. You look great, Cancer, let's go out!

astropop.gif

Your rock and roll astrological forecast, featuring The Postal Service, All Girl Summer Fun Band, The Earaches, Statistics, and more.

Best of 2003: Top 10 Imaginary Albums of the Year

three imaginary girls — Fri, 03 Jan 2003 08:00:00 +0000

The top ten releases of 2003 as voted on by you, our imaginary readers!

#1 The Postal Service — Give Up (Sub Pop)
Winning our imaginary best of 2003 by overwhelming majority, the Postal Service gorgeously blend the electronic delicacy of Dntel with the effortless vocal bliss of Ben Gibbard (plus stellar girlie cameos from Jenny Lewis and Jen Wood).
{official website} * {buy it} * {tig review}

#2 The Shins — Chutes Too Narrow (Sub Pop)
The sophomore effort from James Mercer et al lived up to lofty expectations and was well worth the two-year wait for this crystaline, poppy, Kinks-esque songwriting masterpiece.
{official website} * {buy it} * {tig review}

#3 Death Cab for Cutie — Transatlanticism (Barsuk)
Oh that Ben Gibbard; look at him go, with two of the three top spots in our 2003 countdown! Death Cab offers yet another amazing blast of indie-pop perfection.
{official website} * {buy it} * {tig review}

#4 Radiohead — Hail to the Thief (Capitol)
Radiohead always evokes adjectives like "sonorous," "transcendent," "aware" and overtly in the case of their latest release, "politically infused." We're only sorry we don't have a live review because we couldn't bear to see them at the White River (Clear Channel) amphitheatre.
{official website} * {buy it}

#5 Outkast — The Love Below/Speakerboxxx (La Face)
As our wise friend Ollie Byrd said, "Outkast has a song out called "Hey Ya." It's the most exciting pop rock song since "Smells Like Teen Spirit" in 92, which was the most exciting pop rock song to come along since the sumptuous "Welcome to the Jungle" in 87." Amen!
{official website} * {buy it}

#6 The White Stripes — Elephant (V2)
Jack and Meg White have dazzled once again with their evolved blues-infused songwriting as well as their flawless peppermint aesthetics.
{official website} * {buy it} * {tig review}

#7 The Long Winters — When I Pretend to Fall (Barsuk)
For the second year in a row, John Roderick has created a darkly hook-and-harmony laden disc of metaphorical, wisely dysfunctional romantics. Just like us.
{official website} * {buy it} * {tig review}

#8 Yeah Yeah Yeahs — Fever to Tell (Interscope)
Yeah Yeah Yeah's blend the fashion focus of Dale Bozzio and the Cha Cha with a primordial yowl and that missing bass guitar, so key on so many trio releases this year.
{official website} * {buy it} * {tig review}

#9 The New Pornographers — Electric Version (Matador)
Vancouver's New Pornographers explode with infectious helium harmonies, catchy hooks, and Neko Case's matchless vocals. Every track is a stand-alone hit for your 2003 mixtape.
{official website} * {buy it} * {tig review}

#10 The Decemberists — Her Majesty the Decemberists (Kill Rock Stars)
Their songs are the "Lost Archives of the true beginning of rock & roll." They've created their own brand of songwriting that blends "the storytelling of folk through the rhythm of the sea shanty and regularly incorporating instruments like the upright bass or the accordian."
{official website} * {buy it} * {tig review}