Archive for the 'Folktronic' Category

War On Drugs-Baby Missiles has been loading these guys up on one of my stations, and every time they come on pop out of my office cave and check the spacelab computer that is blaring music for who the artist is, and it has been War On Drugs for three different tracks. This is just a driving driving driving song. A little bit of a Bruce feel without sounding like the Boss, and it is funny there is a slight Kurt Vile here, and this is his band, except he’s not on this album because he’s been doing his solo stuff for awhile. These guys are hard to explain- Tom Petty sound collage with reverb or psychedelic freeway rock pop. This is from their last album, 2011’s Slave Ambient. Live versions brings out the Dylan-isms (also the harmonica). Focus on the sound of the band and if he’s too much live, the vocals are better balanced

TEEN – Better

TEEN is the project of Kristina Lieberson who was in Here We Go Magic, a band on my radar forever. I think I even have an album of theirs, but was never really able to buy in, but that’s probably my own fault. TEEN is opening for Eleanor Friedberger on her upcoming tour, and she’s one of those artists for whom I have so much respect that I’ll check out the opener because I can’t imagine her choosing a band I wouldn’t want to listen to.

I like this album a fair amount, and I really like this song, but I have to agree with the Pitchfork review to a certain extent. This is an album filled with a bunch of really great three minute songs. The problem is that they’re all five to six minutes long. Some better production and editing on that end could have made a big difference.

They have a new EP out called Carolina, which you can stream at Stereogum probably for a few more days before it’s a officially released. I haven’t been able to spend much time with it yet, but the first song (the title track) is really great, and I think it’s got a real Cocteau Twins sound to it.

Jason Lytle – I Am Lost

The return of Jason Lytle was almost completely unheralded, but now that I’ve finally listened to his post-Grandaddy album, Yours Truly, The Commuter, I can say that it is a massive norepinephrine rush of nostalgia tinged with post-Pink Floyd sensibility and sprinkles of utter brilliance.

I picked this particular track for Pinko Punko, since it is super Jeddy-like and it evokes Lawn and So On from Under The Western Freeway. Short, sweet, and kind of melancholy. The beginning is so Dark Side of the Moon, I almost laughed out loud, but then it settled into a replica of old Grandaddy and I got really sad for Jed.

Woodcat – Tunng

Another band that popped out for me. It’s too bad the video isn’t clearer. More videos here.

Presuming he’s never heard them before, Pinko thinks this will set UC’s socks on fire or something. Presuming UC has socks. And they’re flammable. And having them be on fire can be interpreted in a positive sense. I mean Pinko didn’t actually say, “this will set UC’s socks on fire”, that was just all so-to-speak like, and seemed more interesting than “very UC”, which is what Pinko actually did say.

Though, maybe UC actually conducts ritual sock burnings on moonless nights, and takes the burning of socks rather seriously. In which case, I’ve probably ruined everything by my frivolous pyrohosean comment. He’s probably the Grand Gizzard of the Secret Order of the Flaming Legging. Everyone says that there couldn’t possibly be a secret society devoted to the mystical properties of burning socks, but then everyone says that oxygen is necessary to stay alive (also to burn socks) and I’ve never actually seen any of that either. So you see my problem here — I’m surprised there isn’t a trail of smoke going up from my sock drawer already.

Burning socks might be sort of a useful ritual really. Because of sockivorous laundering devices and such like, many socks die lonely deaths far from their life partners. So there are lots of random extra socks lying around, acting pathetic in that way that socks have, and since mismatched socks seems to be a fashion trend whose time never comes, and since all attempts to mate a sock with a chameleon have failed despite much encouragement, there are many socks that would not be missed available for burnt offering duties. “Raise a pleasant odor for our Argyll overlords” or whatever it is the crazed sock-torching cultist set is saying these days. I suppose since they are crazed sock-torching cultists, they might insist that only matched pairs will do for ritual purposes, that a sock without its fellow traveler is fallen and unclean and not fit to stink up a gym bag. Though one would have to assume that there was probably a schism between the single-sock sock burners and paired-sock sock burners at some point (not to speak of the “who cares, any sock will do” faction, but then nobody likes to speak of them anyway). Unfortunately, UC probably won’t admit which faction he belongs to, since he will probably insist he has no idea what I’m talking about — but just how uncanny could he be if he didn’t actually belong to a centuries old secret society (sartorially obsessed or otherwise)?

Of course, now you’re asking yourself, “Is it a good idea for plover to be taunting Happy Fun Sock Cultist?” or “Why does plover know so much about sock-burning cults?” or “Is this all a ruse to distract from shoe-burning cults?” And I, of course, have no answers for you. I can not risk any further disclosures and, the moment the distinct odor of burnt wool drifts in through my window, will deny having written any of this. There are no short cuts. You must knit (and purl) your own tale from the clues scattered across the floors of Lemony and the annals of history. I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time.