september 2011 mix; desert interlude

Download link here.
1) Group Bombino - Tenere (from Guitars from Agadez Vol. 2)
2) Bob Dylan & The Band - Million Dollar Bash (from Basement Tapes)
3) Tall Dwarfs - Think Small (from Fork Songs)
4) Yo la Tengo - Moonrock Mambo (from Summer Sun)
5) The Olivia Tremor Control - A Sleepy Company (from Black Foliage Animation Music Vol. One)
6) CAN - She Brings the Rain (from Soundtracks)
7) Alice Coltrane - Spiritual Eternal (from Eternity)
8) Stereolab - Margerine Rock (from Margerine Eclipse)
9) Oneida - Preteen Weaponry Pt. 2 (from Preteen Weaponry)
10) Talk Talk - Ascension Day (from Spirit of Eden)
11) Pink Mountaintops - Cold Criminals (from Axis of Evol)

Coming back from vacation, I felt like I was going through a desert of the mind/soul. Too much enjoyment of life? Distinct lack of liver function? Either way, I was in a pre-fall funk, a quiet mood; this playlist is reserved even when loud.

"Tenere" begins in the desert, literally, with the call of a camel. Group Bombino recorded the acoustic numbers live in the open air...somewhere in Niger. Released by the always spectacular Sublime Frequencies, the dry, hypnotic guitar chords mingle with a wash of handclaps and atmosphere---meditation through sound.


The inestimable guitar skills of Group Bombino soundtracked my visit to...Batesville, IN, of all places, for a wedding in the casket capital of Indiana.

"Million Dollar Bash"...oh Basement Sessions, how I ignored you for so long. High on humor and harmony, this shambles of a gospel sing-a-long is just about perfect. This is the record that invented alt-country, and I don't think anyone's topped it since.

Long-running Kiwi collaborators Tall Dwarfs usually wrap their pop gemstones in harsh blankets of keyboard skronk, acoustic hi-speed strumming, drum machine, and layered nasally vocals. "Think Small" is an aberration of their catalog, a plaintive melody backed by a single-tracked vocal take that ruminates on being, "Like life is nothing at all...I will think small." Autumnal sentiment, for sure.



"Moonrock Mambo" is YLT in silent/slinky funk mode, a melange of small sounds wrapped around witty wordplay. Colored in around the edges by squiggles of guitar feedback, marimba, piano, and tape loops; this is an exercise in minimalism and humor. With the inestimable Georgia providing just the right jazzy shuffle of a beat, this is a connect-the-dots that you can put your pencil down and just smile at.

On the other side; maximalism. "A Sleepy Company" wants every sound inside of it. Vocal harmonies are in-front here, but behind the mirror is a circus of brass, sound samples, distorted bass, fractured strings, and God-knows-what-else. Restraint isn't a strong point, but I trust OTC in their maximalist ode. When the violin hits double-time just before the static-loaded bridge, the hairs raise on the back of my neck.



CAN without the mighty Jaki Liebzeit...is it really CAN? This track would appear to answer, "Yes." Malcolm spins a typically fractured tale about some sort of rain goddess, there are ravens, magic mushrooms, and yellow men, naturally. Anchored by 4 notes from bassist Holger Czukay, and some spidery blues from guitarist Michael Karoli. The only experimentalism present here is the distorted guitar that seeps in from somewhere in the background. This is CAN at its most relaxed; you can almost visualize them leaving the tracking room one at a time after a 3 a.m. session.

I first heard Alice Coltrane while driving across the Pennsylvania wilderness in the middle of the night, my caffeined-brain being washed over by swells of harp, scattershot drumming, funky bass. "Spiritual Eternal" is Alice on electric organ, playing notes in such a way as to almost render them robotic, monochromatic, synthetic. When just over bass and drums, it is almost overpowering in its note-heavy measures. When the orchestra comes in; it is relief by numbers, the swell-and-pulse swinging slowly through time, battling her single organ. Beautiful.


Cover for Alice Coltrane's Eternity. Note the dichotomy between the luridly blue sky and pale, dry grass; the electric organ on the album reacts in the same way to the rest of her usually-organic sound.

Masters of the vintage organ, Stereolab accelerate through "Margerine Rock" with a staccato organ riff into beautifully sing-song choruses. The song lives at the edge of blast-off; finally reaching the point 2-plus minutes in, with a single note guitar solo bending and pitching like a kite in the wind. Rather than let it run its course to the ground, they break it off.

"Preteen Weaponry Part 2" is part of a 3-song album that itself is part of a 3-album cycle. Which makes "Part 2" the absolute middle, the hazy mid-ground, which begins with a distorted blast of electronic something-or-other. These distorted blasts, like a nearing industrial giant, like a factory collapse, like an approaching banshee; this is the tone of the song, omnipresent over slowly-thickening tribal drum-and-guitar stew. It is oppressive and haunting, yet free and purging at the same time. Go ahead; breathe.

Operating in a similar realm of experimentation and space, "Ascension Day" is an exercise in lush restraint, from the percolating stand-up bass, to the retreating, skittering drum-beat that leads into the song. Jagged guitars slash and retreat, leaving only vocalist Mark Hollis howling over a rhythm-section and gospel organ. In place of a chorus, we get a strangled instrumental of vibrating strings and distant brass. Talk Talk is often a rhapsodic exercise in exorcism; demons be gone in this room where righteous sound vibes are all that remain.


Cover for Talk Talk's Spirit of Eden. Fantastic.

Go: acoustic strum-a-thon backed by skree-feedback, thumping bass notes, school of Mo Tucker drum-stylings, and a "beep" that sounds like a trash truck is putting it in reverse...and you're in the blindspot. "Cold Criminals" builds to a religious fervor via a gradually increasing static swirl, and Stephen McBean's drawl that moves from lackadaisical to prophetic as it raises in pitch and volume. Pink Mountaintops make it sound so easy; but pop genius this dirty and inspired and so damn simple sounding is anything but easy.

music diary project, day four, five, & six

Friday, April 8th
Another quiet day, despite receiving another Reckless mailorder during the week.

(3:30p) Flying Saucer Attack - New Lands
I seriously cannot get enough Flying Saucer Attack lately---to the point where I went and filled in their discography via mail-ordering used discs. Here, leader David Pearce's vision has never been so loud-yet-hushed. Massed clouds of distortion float just above the surface; a stunning achievement in avant-garde pop.


Make no mistake, this is pop. Mellow, acoustic slow jam cloaked in gritty disguise, thick coat of static.

(7:00p) First half of my March mix.
Heading to the beginning of a bro-down with former roommates/current compadres Andy & Tyler...I was driving Amelia's car across town on one of the nicest days of the year, I couldn't help but try out my tape-dubbed copy of this mix. I already wrote about it at the above link...so check it out there.

Saturday, April 9th
Woke up early on a friend's house, and drove through thick sheets of rain back home to look for a suit for a wedding with my younger brother. Later in the day, post-tacos, were rejoined by friends, spun some jams while finishing the last of my Yuengling haul (Black & Tan, of course) from the Florida Christmas roadtrip. In-between, viewed the cult-classic (and by cult, I mean an estimated 10 people around the globe) Norm MacDonald vehicle, Dirty Work.


Don Rickles, in the finest comedy cameo known to man. Did I mention bit roles for Chris Farley, Chevy Chase, John Goodman? A veritable smorgasbord.

(8:30a) Second half of my March mix.

(4:00p) Yo la Tengo - I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One
What else can I say about this record that hasn't been said? Yes, it's their masterpiece (though I firmly believe And Nothing... and Electr-o-Pura are close rivals); yes, it flirts with many subgenres (long feedback-pieces, jazz-inflected pop, unabashed alt-guitar worship, strummy acoustic Neil Young-esque pieces, clattering organ drone, percussion-oriented RnB/funk-lite...); yes it is funny, warm, emotionally involved, witty...damn. I just got a used vinyl of this, complete with the humorous faux-Matador releases. Where else did you think Condo Fucks came from?

(5:00p) Neil Young - Rust Never Sleeps
I didn't really get into Young till my mid-20s. Unlike many of my peers, I never remember my parents listening to him, probably due to the fact that they were teenagers in the mid-60s, and by the time Young was a mega-star, I'm pretty sure my parents had stopped buying records, trying instead to buy groceries for two young kids. This record is plaintive, and well-spoken (excepting the awful record cover); I feel like the acoustic/electric dichotomy between Side A and Side B work really well with this record. Partial to the acoustic side, lately.


Pure-voiced live version of "Sugar Mountain", complete with frequency-cutting, glorious harmonica.

(10:30p) the Rolling Stones - Goat's Head Soup
By this time, we'd downed the Yuengling, walked out into the dusk for a sixer of Coors Banquet tallboys (something very satisfying about the name of that beer), and returned to chew the fat about early musical experiences. Before heading out to the watering hole down the street, my buzzed brain needed some get-up/wake-up vibes, and Goat's Head Soup never disappoints. My second favorite Stones record, and one that is overlooked despite its plenitude of squelchy riffs, blown-out vocals, all the while exuding grime, sex, and excess. If you don't know it, you should!

Sunday, April 10th

(10:30a) Al Green - Greatest Hits
A tradition at Bloomington's Tracks, perhaps not started by record-shilling associate Mike H., though he certainly instructed me in the Ways. Tracks opened early on Sundays...earlier than any other non-breakfast or worship-serving place. The law of the land was that you had to at least break-in the morning with the Reverend...Al Green. Can't go wrong with most of his hits collections, one of which we would bust out with regularity. Some of the best memories of the store are coming in with a slight hangover, riding my bike under the Spring-canopied streets, and propping the door open, blasting the Reverend to the Canaanites in the street while the breeze mingled and cut-through the constant haze of Nag Champa. Almost makes me wistful for bygone days.


Not on Greatest Hits, but one of my lesser-known favorites. And yes, Al Green was an attempt to rectify the hangover induced by Saturday night's booze banquet.

(2:40p) Various Artists - Studio Roots 2
Another fine, fine compilation from the folks at Soul Jazz. This record connects to another Bloomington spring memory. At some point at tracks, I began digging into the equally-fantastic Trojan compilations, which the manager had burned copies of sitting in the promo drawer. Still in "professional musician" mode, I had bought with my meager savings (and help from my parents) a used VW Passat Wagon, with which I could cart around all my gear AND my P.A. system. Before that car shit the bed, I enjoyed a brief spring with the windows down and my first ever in-car CD-player. With the crabapples and dogwoods in full, fragrant bloom, I drove over to the Secretly Canadian warehouse to pick up some used CD sleeves to recycle for the Everything, Now! hand-painted Bible Universe edition, blasting the Trojan Dub compilation the whole time. It was the year's first near-70-degree day, and reggae had finally clicked. Sometimes understanding art is all about having a context in which to experience it fully; being young, enjoying warm weather, and thinking about upcoming artistic endeavours...I was not yet of the world, instead, I was floating somewhere above. Every Spring since, when warm weather first comes 'round the bend, I know it's reggae season again.

did you hear the one about the snow

Being all weathered-in (even the gym closed for a day), we've been watching plenty of movies, in-between catching up on Egypt-happenings via the New Yorker's excellent "Dispatches from Egypt" online series and frequent Newshour viewing. Also, completed a large amount of updates to the oft-neglected Everything, Now! internet portal, including figuring out how to stream 4 of our albums in their entirety, and putting a sampler EP up for download.


Cover art for our new CD 4xEP...

In-between, managed to escape the icy clutches of the near-Eastside to see (for the first-time, shame on me) the best American band of the past quarter-century: Yo La Tengo. Post-brewpub pints & burgers, we caught both halves of their set, the first of which was decided by the spin of a wheel. Though I was rooting for a Condo Fucks set, I was pleasantly surprised by DUMP, as bassist James McNew took over Ira's axe(s) and played a stellar, pretty clean and vibrato-y set of guitar-pop numbers. Plus a shredfest at the end, and the dude can shred. The second half of the set was not surprising, but allowed for all the YLT tropes. After classic mellow-organ-and-polyrhythm opener "Autumn Sweater", there was the R&B skronk of recent jam "Periodically Double or Triple". Other highlights were Summer Sun standout "Little Eyes", and on the opposite side of the noise-spectrum, aged guitar-freakout proto-punk blast of "Artificial Heart". There was the requisite noise-kraut jam which saw Ira switching guitars, James roughhousing his bass into his full-stack, loads of feedback closing out their set pre-encore. The encore was mostly quiet & acoustic, a warming coda on a below-zero night.


Pretty much ready for a road-trip to India.

After watching quirky doc Home Movie earlier in the week (a must-see for the Gator Farm owner alone), on a whim we watched director Chris Smith's more recent offering The Pool, a serious comedy/coming-of-age tale in Hindi, set in the beautiful city of Goa. Besides making me want to travel immediately, it was an unexpectedly great movie. The dialog was warm in tone, funny, poignant, smart; the colors fantastically vivid yet real, the locations full of dusty beauty. Unfortunately, you have to compare it to Slumdog Millionaire, but I feel like The Pool is much more realistic and touching in its depth. Just an excellent story.


Get out of my head, Robert Blake. With your no-eyebrows face and glistening hair!

Last night we had a double feature of Lost Highway and...Aziz Ansari: Intimate Moments for a Sensual Evening. After the anxiety-ridden creepitude of another Lynch feature, I guess I just needed a palate-cleanser. Lost Highway, upon second viewing, may be my favorite non-Peaks Lynch creation. The story circles around on itself, the sense of suffocation and dread is fairly thick throughout, and the pace is deliberately slow yet carries momentum. Clearly going to need a third viewing. As for Aziz, his post-meta-whatever style does hold water; story-jokes about messing with a younger cousin via-Facebook and hanging out with Kanye both carry weight. For someone who's schtick is so heavy on "not-giving-a-fuck", all the intra-family joking was extra-funny to see. Meta, indeed.