hippiesandhipsters

Best Coast/The Only Place

If you’ve been following along with news on Best Coast, you know about the latest single, The Only Place. As an album opener (and title track) it sets the mood as the most modern love song for California. Why would you live anywhere else? The chorus sings. Why would we?

When the world fell in love with Bethany Cosentino back in the summer of 2010 when Crazy For You came out on Mexican Summer, we fell in love with the simple love song. Songs about boyfriends, Snacks the Cat (her cat), her love affair with Mary Jane, being alone, and songs about talking to your mom on the phone. We didn’t fall in love the Cosentino’s complexity. We fell in love with her sound and the greater idea she committed to. She writes about her life and about California. And why she thinks its the Only Place to live. But it seems like a distant dream (an American Dream?) of endless summer nights and sunsets on the beach. Maybe she’s attracting that desire to move west. To find the coast.

While there is nothing groundbreaking about her songwriting there might be something groundbreaking about the attention she has gotten. She grasped my attention. (And I do have tickets to see her at DC’s 930 Club in July.) Maybe for her love of California? But maybe for her sing-a-longs. I’m still unsure, but I’m no longer a closet Best Coast fan.

NPR is featuring The Only Place on their first listen. And I managed an early copy.

This record is clear. It sounds sharp, unlike the drowned-out sounds on Crazy For You. You can hear pieces of the acoustic guitar in track four, My Life. Known for her fuzz, Cosentino traded it in for Jon Brion (who produced early Aimee Mann records, some Fiona Apple, Dido, and lately Spoon and of Montreal.) Best Coast is certainly a front-runner in the niche genre world. Known for what she does best, The Only Place (also out on Mexican Summer) can be seen as just a continuation of Crazy For You.  The Only Place is also full of love songs, songs about her boyfriend, and those summer songs of longing. On Do You Love Me Like You Used To? [below] Cosentino changes it up. Just a little bit unfamiliar, like you caught her off guard. It should be the stand out track.

The reverb on her vocals bleed onto tracks like Dreaming My Life Away [above]. She sings about dreams within dreams and sailing away further into that dreamscape. It’s almost as if this record – or Cosentino herself – lives in a dream land (or is at least obsessed with it.) Where her records all sound the same but everyone embraces them anyway. (Wait, isn’t that real?) The Only Place is a California soundtrack. Meant to be heard driving north on the Pacific Coast Highway out of Los Angeles. Just under 35 minutes as a whole, The Only Place is romantic. Cosentino offered us nothing new. She knows her place. And apparently, it’s in the sun.

my ode to Oldie

Oldie is the closing track of the new Odd Future record, The OF Tape Vol. 2. Clocking in at 10:32 it features the same repetitive beat, only occasionally losing its’ basses and trebles, and features everyone from the collective. (And is the only track on Tape 2 to credit Earl Sweatshirt.) The trick to Oldie is it’s simplicity. While its all hook, they are their own chorus. Tyler, the Creator has come a long way. And now, he and the gang can arrange and produce while continuing to sonically innovate. Their array of voices vary in pace and decibel while they move like choppy waters over Oldie. This track puts them on full display as what they are: great lyricists.

Tyler opens and closes Oldie himself (and produces the track) leading off and finishing strong. In between, there are great verses from Hodgy Beats, Left Brain, Mike G, Domo Genesis, Jasper Dolphin, and Earl Sweatshirt. Their sounds are progressive, as always. But they don’t seem to be letting themselves get too good. With just enough breathing room knowing that they’ll never stop creating, each record gets better and better with production, lyricism and delicacy.

Two years ago yesterday, we got Radical. Officially Odd Future’s second mixtape, I was writing about it here a year after it’s release. I was writing about their rise to fame (remember this?) And about their presence in our culture and in hip hop’s culture.

Radical was a self-released free download. And now The OF Tape Vol. 2 is on their own label, Odd Future Records. With full creative control not only did they make this record 18 tracks long, they made the closing track their masterpiece. I’d be happy to make my Top Tracks Of The Year list only eight tracks long, just to include Oldie. Because every Top Ten List needs it.

A lot of people don’t like Odd Future. Most people have a problem with their misogyny, the violence in their lyrics and the ignorance they play out in their public lives. My only guess is that not enough people are paying attention. (Syd tha Kyd is their only female member and the only openly gay member of the hip hop community. And yes, no one cares because she’s equal.) Yeah, they’re silly. And they say dumb shit. Odd Future isn’t rapping about world peace or war or Wall Street. They’re rapping and creating, staying true to themselves (and sticking together) while changing hip hop (and how we talk about it.)  They rap about their lives and who they are, allowing a multitude of people to relate while they amass popularity.

Meanwhile, the rest of The OF Tape Vol. 2 is full of other Golf Wang creations. The fact that they made Oldie and still continued on with other essential pieces of the record shows a flexibility and a craving to create as much as possible. Each piece stands seperate from one another. Yet we know it’s still them.

With Hodgy Beats‘ Untitled EP (also out on Odd Future Records) and releases from The Internet and talks of an upcoming solo record from Earl Sweatshirt (and his own label) it’s clear that we have a lot to look forward to from OFWGKTA. And while I’m content with Oldie, more is always welcome.

Enjoy.

WU LYF live

Having been the second time I saw WU LYF at DC’s Rock and Roll Hotel on H Street, it lived up to my expectations of awesome. This band plays incredibly well together. While their sound is limited, it’s rehearsed. The drummer, as we learned after the show, is incredibly shy. Not often do we see a drummer who can play as hard, and as well, as Joe Manning and will cower when the crowd chants his name for an encore. Ellery Roberts, whom I think calls himself Howler, is a quiet showman. He barely speaks to us, laughs through what he does say, and paces around the stage. Too many rips in his jean jacket with the LYF logo on the back, he was so slim and sexy its hard to imagine that powerful rasp coming from such a small person. He supplements Evans Kati and Tom McClung, on guitar and bass respectively, with the ever present organ. Too few bands cherish the organ. Thank god for WU LYF.

They rattled off the tracks from their record, Go Tell Fire To The Mountain, with a few new tracks and covers that went unannounced (and therefore unrecognized.) If you haven’t hear their record I immediately suggest it. Bizarre sounding with unusual song progression WU LYF, sadly, isn’t for everyone. But they’re for me. (I even got myself a sweet poster pre-show. And got Roberts to sign it.) Almost every song has a movement to it and quite literally sounds just like the open space they recorded in.

When I saw WU LYF a year ago they didn’t give us an encore. Probably due to the fact that they only have ten songs to play. The crowd wouldn’t let up this time. After the band eventually came back (with a shirtless Roberts) we spent minutes chanting Joe, waiting for the drummer to appear. We then spent too many more minutes waiting for them to decide what to play. First a cover and then an encore of We Bros – the over-edited single. (Which, I hate to presume is becoming a trademark song for indie-bro-rock. Consider the phrase coined.) It turned into another mosh and Roberts jumped down into the crowd. I could see the crowd move in unison to the music. They jumped and swayed side to side while the rest of us tried (really hard!) not to get stepped on. WU LYF is the smallest epic band in the world. And their presence is unavoidable.

(left to right) drums, vocals/organ,bass,guitar

Willis Earl Beal opened. One man with a reel to reel, Beal is a mix of a spoken word artist, a poet, and an incredible vocalist. Although his sound was unrefined (he also promised us a lo-fi sound on his debut record, Acousmatic Sorcery out on XL) you had to believe what he was say-singing to you. He commanded the room from the start and held us all captive (with slight “this is weird” nods to one another in between.) Beal certainly fits in with WU LYF’s unusual existence and it was an honest treat to see him perform. Bed sheet cape/banner in all.

Jack White/Blunderbuss

And on the eighth day, God created Jack White. As we recently learned from the (finally!) long and detailed profile of White in the Easter edition of the New York Times Magazine, Jack White doesn’t own a cell phone. His studio at Third Man Records in Nashville runs on tape and he records only in analog. The employees are all required to wear certain colors and if not, they’re fined. We discover that his first ever concert was Bob Dylan (expect anything else?) He is also the youngest of 10 children and the only one, it seems, who left Michigan. My favorite detail of the article is that he installed microphones on his roof. Just so he can lie in bed with his kids and listen to the rain.

He’s been building his own guitars and he owns all his own master recordings. And for this tour he’s bringing two bands with him. They accompanied him on SNL, one all female and one all male. Neither of which is allowed to hear the other. For freshness.

Maybe one of the most precise men in music – at least in our age – Jack White is sharp. He dresses sharp and sexy and his music is exact. There certainly will be a discussion surrounding his upcoming release, Blunderbuss, out on Third Man/XL Recordings/Columbia on April 24th. But none of it will complain. None of it will revolve around claims against White and why he always sounds the same. Since The White Stripes officially broke up in February of last  year, we’ve seen collaborations with Conan and Colbert, the Insane Clown Posse, and don’t forget he recently released a song by balloon. His creativity seems to be never ending and always interesting. Which is exactly what he brought us on Blunderbuss.

This record has many things going for it. The biggest might be it’s element of surprise. There is surprise in its’ instrumentation and its’ sounds. While White’s songwriting and skill on the guitar are well known, there’s almost no need to address them, his passion for the unusual is reflected in his musicianship and composition. And even though it is technically his first solo record, he brought along his friends: acoustic instruments, the Fender Rhodes, violins, and a myriad of layered vocalists on verses. Oh, and the piano.  Used as detail in hooks and then featured in solos, the piano seems to be an overarching theme in this record – that is, if Jack White isn’t already his own theme.

Blunderbuss [below], the title track, is homespun with piano, slide guitar, and violins. The chorus is a mouthful. It’s romantic and resourceful, just like White himself. The opening and closing tracks, Missing Pieces and Take Me With You When You Go, are developed as if they have movements. But when you see that they’re three and a half and four minutes, respectively, you go back and listen again. And then a third time.

I’m Shakin’ is an even three minute delight. Rockabilly at its finest…until his quintessential layered raw and wild (and almost backwards sounding) guitar solo shows up. White commands your memory of who exactly you’re listening to. His signature sounds are instantly identifiable. We know it’s Jack White we’re listening to. We just have to guess which door he’s behind.

The style of this record pushes past anything he’s done before. And it should make you listen with a new ear. It almost seems like he’s never pleased with his work despite his appetite for perfection. It’s a treat for all of us, not only because he never stops trying but because it always seems like he has the best idea. New ideas are contagious. And so is Jack White.

back to back sold out: Megafaun and Dr. Dog

This Thursday and Friday I had the pleasure of back to back sold out shows: Megafaun at the Backstage at DC’s Black Cat and Dr. Dog at the 930 Club.

spot the brothers

Megafaun was more excellent than I could’ve imagined. My first time at the Backstage venue, it was intimate. A perfect setting for a brother band. Brad Cook, Phil Cook, and Joe Westerlund are Megafaun (a fourth was with them, but he seems to remain nameless.) They performed like pros. Phil with a harmonica nestled around his neck, switched between guitar, banjo, and keyboards. Brad led on guitar while Westerlund drummed and sang a number of songs, an unusual trade for a drummer. (This band is proof that it can be done, and exceptionally well. You hear me drummers?) Their three (and four) part harmonies charmed the crowd and reminded me yet again that multiple lead voices is a favorite characteristic of mine. The folk overtones to their psychedelic live performance would have been enjoyed by everyone I know. Lesson here, start listening to Megafaun. [Below, track three from their most recent self titled, out on Hometapes.] They have three previous records to keep you interested. This Durham band won’t ever let you down.

croon, Leaman, croon

In 2010 I had the extreme privilege of seeing Dr. Dog three times. This fourth time solidified my love and dedication to the Philly band. Along side me was my roommate, the newest of Dr. Dog fans. All I said to her before hand was, “spoiler alert: they’re great live.” She couldn’t agree more. I knew I was in for a treat when the crowd knew every word as they opened with their new single, That Old Black Hole. They also knew every word to From, Die, Die, Die, I Only Wear Blue, My Friend, and well, every other song (Dr. Dog fans are a unique brand. We also always sing along.)

Their catalogue is large, thank god, due to their versatility (one of which is their two lead vocalists. Do we see a pattern here?) Toby Leaman on bass is a groan rock crooner and Scott McMicken on lead guitar is the charming pop rock vocalist with an unbeatable range. Back up vocals helped them get through their hour and a half set (including encore!) which may or may not have included a lion’s head, astronaut, and poncho that doubled as a blanket. Dr. Dog’s composition can be dissonant, melodic and hooky. They wear many hats (and they wear hats) as songwriters. I never get tired of them. Their sixth record, Be The Void, out on ANTI- this past February opens with twang [see below] and follows through with rock and roll. Rock on.

The Black Keys LIVE: you pretty much love The Black Keys

When it was first announced that The Black Keys were playing an arena tour, I was disappointed. Disappointed because I knew at that point the only place I could ever see them would be in an arena. [Unless one day in the far away future they're making their comeback at Cafe Wha? and I just happen to be in Manhattan.] We wouldn’t be seeing them in any small rock clubs from now on.  Not only are they doing an arena tour, they’re selling them out. Music nerds, like myself, haven’t been able to understand why this is happening. Was it the Grammys? Was it their success of Brothers so quickly followed by El Camino? No one knows. All we know is The Black Keys are a universally accepted sonic now: everyone enjoys this band on some level or another. You’re either from Akron, [or any part of Ohio for that matter, it's basically required of you. Which no Ohio native will argue with.] you can’t get the hook from that car commercial out of your head or you just love rock music. Either way, you pretty much love The Black Keys.

Patrick and Daniel

How can I argue with that? After seeing them live, it’s hard to do. Although, I do have qualms with the evening. Too many people in a crowd is incredibly overwhelming for four hours. They’re all rubbing up against you, spilling their beer on you, expecting you to see over them. It’s a real effort standing in an arena crowd. Then there’s the sound. Not only is there nowhere for it to escape [spoiler alert: it stays in your head for a good three days] there is no where you can go to escape it. Running to the bathroom to refresh yourself is not an option in an arena. Despite how close we managed to get and how dumb it is to leave, I won’t lie. It crossed my mind a number of times.

But I can’t lie to myself anymore. The Black Keys are one of, if not the, biggest rock band in America right now. We don’t need to talk about their music. You know what it sounds like and you know their songwriting is a tightly knit genre of blues rock. They played all the songs I’d hope they’d play. Like Nova Baby, The Girl Is On My Mind, Have Love Will Travel, Strange Times, I’ll Be Your Man, Ten Cent Pistol, almost all of El Camino and Brothers as well as Your Touch. Their force never to be reckoned with is Patrick and Daniel and The Black Keys. Both players, and the two who accompanied them for most of the set, can play their instruments. And they know how to put on a show. I don’t know how they don’t get sick of the songs they play every night in every city. But they never looked tired. They only looked grateful to be there. A few jams here and there, and teasing the crowd during the breakdown of Little Black Submarines, now, it’s no secret how they got here.

Dan Auerbach really knows how to play the guitar. And even though it felt hard for him to keep time during Sister, and a few other songs, Patrick Carney can play the drums. That is why they are selling out arenas. And that is why we all love them. The Black Keys write their songs and perform them just as they wrote them. They love what they do and you couldn’t pay them to hide it. From the art design of their set to the huge ass disco ball lowered during their too short encore [please, for how hard we had to work for it, we could've used more than four songs] the thought they put into what they do is too big and too loud to walk away from.

They sound great on the record and despite some tempo changes, they sound great live. They Black Keys deserve your attention, and yes, they deserve your money. There is no harder working band in America right now. For ten years they’ve been putting out records. It’s time you start listening to them.

tennis/young & old

Just about a year ago in January 2011 we first heard from Tennis – couple composed of Alaina Moore and Patrick Riley (previously from the Indiana pop-punk band, The Ataris.) Famously, they sailed the Eastern Atlantic Seaboard and wrote a record about it called Cape Dory. Now we have  Young & Old, also on Fat Possum. This time produced by The Black Keys’ Patrick Carney. It is due out on Valentine’s Day. The track two single, “Origins” [below], has been around the Internet, satellite radio and stuck in our heads.

For how dreamy independent rock has become, Tennis may remain more true to that than any other band. Even thought they aren’t soaked in reverb, the pair has managed a sound that is fitting for a summer’s day. Releasing, so far, only in the winter months seems to be a statement for them. True to themselves, they do not make compromises. This is who they are and what they sound like. Whatever happened on the high seas for the first record certainly stuck around for the second.

Even with Carney’s name setting a precedent for something (are we sure of what yet?) he hasn’t changed much. A few keys here and there and certainly more interesting drumming. Why he’s connected to a band so different than his own is just a miracle of modern music: there is so much of it everywhere it’s hard not to get your hands dirty.

Tracks “Petition” and “Robin” [below] seem to show us some more dynamics of the band. Showing and telling us that they can vary themselves. (It would be nice to see this band be a part of a cover project, wouldn’t it?) Cape Dory can be reminiscent of doo-wop beats and rhythms that make you want to shuffle. But here on Young & Old we have less sway and more nod. The two releases aren’t much different from each other, but they provide the beginnings of a fun catalogue. Maybe one day we’ll be listening and find something new. Is it today? You decide.