I posted this tune some months ago because it’s so catchy, and radical, and then there are the words.
Kanye doesn’t always make sense and isn’t always right, but he always says what he means. And in that context, this is another song where the impressionistic lyrics are brutally honest and heartfelt. Which is sometimes scary and, to my mind, admirable (even if not always defensible).
Best of all, the track is powerful and uncompromising. This is my Best cut of 2013.
My friend Dorothy shared this with me a few months ago. It comes from an EP put out by a band her son is in. I listened to it a lot at the time, and then didn’t, but I was reminded of it today when making my way through the Pitchfork top songs of 2013 list. I didn’t play all 100, but in my samplings I kept thinking about The Shiver. This isn’t my genre, particularly, but I like this song (and the rest of them on the EP) more than what I was hearing on the Pitchfork list.
Obviously this is my problem. The world has moved on. On the other hand, so have I. We’re both happier that way.
Propulsive rhythm, dynamic changes, singing that declares, and a melody. Maybe not so stylish, but I hear a solid elemental hard rock band pushing things forward. Good luck, Metameric.
Dirty Projectors is a band led by a guitarist/composer named David Longstreth. Ezra Koenig, the lead singer from Vampire Weekend, has played saxophone for the Dirty Projectors.
Longstreth’s band was known for it’s artiness, but in 2009 it released an album called Bitte Orca, which used African-style guitar lines and the harmonized vocals of three young women to create a pretty wonderful and warm art-pop sound. This album was in heavy rotation at my house, and listening again I’m struck by how different the Dirty Projectors used somewhat similar sounds as Vampire Weekend, to strikingly (to my ear) more interesting and agreeable effect.
The third Vampire Weekend album came out a couple of months ago. I gave it a listen back then and found confirmation of my previous thoughts about the group.
I listened to the first album a lot. The synthesis of African guitar sounds and punchy rhythms was appealing, especially coupled with clever often funny vocals. It was kind of like the first Talking Heads album’s lyrics coupled with Fear of Music’s music, at least it seemed at first. But the more I listened the thinner it became. Clever wears out, and the jangly sounds started to feel flat. They didn’t swing, they just chirped, a quality exacerbated by a lead vocalist with a razor sharp inflection and little warmth. I didn’t mind if I heard one of those songs on the radio, but I never put on the record after a while.
The second album seemed like more of the same, and I never really gave it a shot.
The third album was different, at least on the surface. The music and rhythms were more varied, the arrangements were more ambitious and grander. But I played it just once and didn’t go back to it, despite the good reviews, because I was still bothered by the vocalist. Too many smarts, too little heart, I thought. The music was making grand gestures to rock history, to the popular canon, but the words sounded too brittle and perfect, too much part of the guy’s head, too little a part of any place farther down.
At the same time, this seemed to be a year with little guitar rock, and so when the best records of the year lists started showing up and Modern Vampires of the City seemed to be on every one, I thought it might be good to give it one more try. I haven’t gotten through all of it, but my first impression is mostly intact. Still, there is a little more here than I was giving it credit for.
I like the drums and the keyboards in this song, and the words aren’t always irritating. It’s a good tune, strong musically, kind of sing-songy and neither dumb nor overthought (mostly). I still hate his voice. He sounds like a liar to me. I guess that’s not going to change.
The first Rolling Stones album I ever owned was Between the Buttons, and it’s a fantastic and often forgotten disc, full of fantastic songs. The Stones were feeling somewhat arty at this time, Brian was still alive, but what stands out today is how deftly the Stones appropriated all the artsy crap everyone else was throwing off and made it their own.
My Uncle Henry, my father’s brother, died last week and I went to the memorial today, and was very glad to see my cousins for the first time in ages. I was also reminded of my uncle’s gentle personality. What I remember best is his funny smirk. He was funny without saying anything. But when he said something he was funny, too.
I was also reminded that my aunt and uncle brought me Between the Buttons for my 12th or 13th birthday, and at that moment I was pretty sure they had no idea how much that meant to me. All of a sudden I had the Stones in my house, and it was good.
I didn’t talk about this today, since it seemed more about me than he. I did delight in talking to my cousins. And my aunt. About other stuff.
And thanks for this:
Love, Peter
I had to drive up to our house near Lake Tahoe on Wednesday for the simple task of installing our new DSL modem.
You see, even though the house is buried in the Tahoe National Forest, and we neither get–nor want–television or our cell phones to work, we do often have to work from the house. So, being able connect with the world is essential.
My whole time at the house took about 20 minutes for the install, but the drive is around three hours each way. But, since we do rent the house out, particularly to skiers this time of year, and we advertise the house has high-speed, well I had to make sure we delivered upon what was advertised.
I usually would have just streamed KTKE in Truckee (the town about ten miles from our house) but for some reason I just plugged in my iPhone, put it on shuffle, and let it go.
Most of the storage on my iPhone is gobbled up by music (7.2 GB as I write) so there is a pretty good array of stuff, and it was good fun listening to the digital DJ take a turn at spinning tracks, and as Pavlov (one of our dogs joined me for the trek) and I wound our way up in altitude, shuffle handed out a few songs by The Pixies, a band I really love a lot.
Among them was Dig For Fire from the band’s terrific Bossanova album. Such a great cut (I saw the band once, opening for U2 on the Achtung Baby tour).
Well, since I am a big Pixies fan, it presumes I am also a Frank Black (aka, Black Francis) fan as well, so I figured I would throw in a cut from his album Teenager of the Year, with Frank and his band The Catholics.
Compare and contrast!
Kat Bjelland turned 50 today. She was the motivator in Babes in Toyland. Happy birthday!
I was a Babes in Toyland fan back then. Happy Birthday Kat!
I’m sure I heard the Beatles’ version first, and I discovered Little Willie John because of a story in Rolling Stone—so we’re not talking obscure—but still, this is a song that still sounds fresh to me today. A masterpiece.
And here’s an informative conversation about Little Willie John from a Detroit TV show.
I was at the library and happened upon a collection of short stories called Los Angeles Stories written by Ry Cooder and published by City Lights Press. I just read the first one and it’s plain clear writing and storytelling, with a bit of surreal effect, and a voice that I’m looking forward to visiting with some more.
That’s not surprising to me. Cooder is one of my favorite artists, and he knows Los Angeles. One of his greatest records is Chavez Ravine, an epic in song telling of the story of the development of the Chavez Ravine barrio in Los Angeles, turning people’s homes into a baseball stadium. I was going to post one of that album’s many great songs, and then I found this bit of extreme cheese.
Dueling guitars is all you need to know. I don’t remember how the young karate kid gets into this fight with rock god Steve Vai, but I did see the movie, Crossroads, once upon a time. I believe souls might have been involved. Vai plays his own part, while Cooder plays the part Macchio pantomimes. The drama is crazily false, while the guitar playing is appropriately incendiary given the Hollywood stakes. This is fun.
Ps. On Steve Vai’s Wikipedia page it says he started in Zappa’s band, went solo but also played with Public Image Ltd., Alcatrazz, David Lee Roth and Whitesnake. Talking about a crossroads.
