4th annual Songblague mixtape!

Well, this was an eventful year. "Interesting times", as the Chinese curse has it. In many ways, the world seems a more unsettled place — economically, environmentally, and a creeping sense of hopeless national dysfunction in spite of Obama holding the line. And yet (and I hope I'm not tempting fate by saying), it was a pretty good one for me. Generally healthy, domestically happy, with all the gratitude that goes along with that, what fool could complain? Which is a weird place to be for someone in tune with the doom and dread in even the most benign situations.

So here's a year-end 'blague round-up that maybe hits some of the above notes, influenced also by a nagging case of jetleg (still getting my head around literally going back in time via crossing the international date line). At any rate, the flow feels right. Hope you enjoy whatever narrative comes across for you. Maybe even throw it on for a bit at your New Years party. See you on the other side.

Aside
Willie Hutch - I Choose You
Greg Hawkes - Block Party
The Toms - Other Boys Do
Joni Mitchell - Black Crow 
Cass McCombs - You Saved My Life
David Axelrod - The Warning Talk (Part II)
Tangerine Dream - The Dream Is Always The Same 

Beside
Zazou/Bikaye/CY1 - Mangungu
Violens - Der Microarc
Hiss Golden Messenger - Blue Country Mystic
Daniel Johnston - Sorry Entertainer
Andy Statman - My Hollywood Girls
Rodriguez - Street Boy
D Train - You're The One For Me

Seaside
Tone Dogs - Secret Crush
The Cut - Atmospheres
The Smiths with Sandie Shaw - I Don't Owe You Anything  
David Bowie - Velvet Goldmine
Guy Boulanger and Edgar Vercy - Cormoran Blesse   
Der Plan - Space Bob

Decide 
Beach House - Other People
The Move - Omnibus

El Coyote y Su Banda - Arboles de la Barranca 
Nite Jewel - In The Dark
Polmo Popto - Kiss Me Again And Again (Songblague edit)
Toshifumi Hinata - Pentimento
Marvin Gaye - My Love Is Waiting

Departure/Arrival

Well, it's end of the year time up here. I will be observing radio silence in New Zealand for the next 2 and a half weeks. Hopefully, I will be filling my ears with new 'blague-worthy sounds or at least the kind of inspiration that comes from spending solid time on the other side of the world. 

Closing out the regular season, here are a pair of cinematic instrumentals from a musician I am just getting to know, courtesy of the always stellar Growing Bin. Maybe it's just my mood, but I'm hearing them as two different musical ways to exit the scene. Or maybe one is for arrival. We'll have to test it out in the air.

Meanwhile, look out for a year-end digital mixtape right before New Years. With luck, I'll my brain will have fully made it back by then. Til soon!

Toshifumi Hinata - Chaconne

Toshifumi Hinata - Pentimento

Christmas comes early

Now that it occurs to me that I'll be gone for Christmastime, I'm doing a sudden, early dive into holiday sounds. Belle and Sebastian are probably the last people who should be attempting to cover James Brown. This effort is like an office Xmas party make-out  — probably made a lot more sense when plastered, was ill-conceived, but ultimately forgivable and will be repeated more awkwardly next year.

Belle and Sebastian - Santa Claus, Go Straight To The Ghetto

Vacationland

New Zealand is starting to feel within my grasp. Countdown to blastoff is 3 days now. And while I can't wait to get my antipodes on, the excitement is tempered a bit by the prospect of spending double-digit hours above the mighty Pacific. That said, the time for vacation soundtracks has come. And I will commence to sprawl out to this musical saw/mallet-laden number with the dopey smile of a man who is very far from home.

Kev Hopper - Lamalou Les Bains

In need of black strap

Enjoying a fun book about searching out all the ex-members of The Fall. Probably an attempt to gain indirect insight into that wonderful and frightening world. I'm happy that I'm still totally entertained by the antics of Mark E Smith. And I'm happy to share one of his more poppy numbers.

The Fall - No Bulbs

Thoughts in orbit

Starting to feel that cold weather urge to spend some good solo contemplative time walking through wooded places. Which means it's time for music to accompany that sort of thing. Or for being all moody in dim places. Either way, this tune has you covered.

Matthew Shipp - New Orbit

Feels like it likes to feel

You won't catch me digging drum solos often, especially when they kick off songs. But then there's nothing normal about Henry Threadgill — the music or the configuration of musicians he chooses to play it. Who says jazz can't sound like a monster movie?

Henry Threadgill - Like It Feels

Positively hot

There's a lot of evidence to think that this world is in decline. Hell, it probably is, and in ways that even our mightiest collective efforts can't do much to affect. And yet...you hear a song like this and all that dreariness goes away. I'll also refer you to a more personal take on this particular character who graces the 'blague today.

Harvey Scales - Keeps Getting Better

Sybaritic sounds

Combustible Edison deserve some love. Not only did they make themselves expertly versed in Lounge/Exotica/Space Age Pop conventions well before it was remotely hip, but they themselves helped make it all hip for a time. And they were pretty good craftsmen about it for the little window in which they had an audience. All that smoky, musty kitsch has actually aged pretty well for me. This tune in particular feels like swimming through an underwater dream waiting for my next Manhattan to be delivered via mermaid.

Combustible Edison - Carnival Of Souls

Choose or lose

Hesitant adult despair gives way to wholesome adolescent angst. I never would've thought that this slight (and terribly named) band would've popped up a second time on the 'blague. But these kids have good pop sense and a dorkiness you can't help but nod along to, even as you tune out the insipid words.

Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin - Dead Right

He who hesitates is lost

Happy post-Txgiving. Hopefully, you're sated, not-quite stuffed, and well caught up with family and friends whom you want to enjoy good cheer with. Seems like a good enough moment to offer up a tale of adulterous desire in nautical surroundings. I've always loved the image of seagulls taunting the song's poor hesitant sap. This one may be a minor Andy Partridge winner, but it shows the level his craft is working on.

XTC - Seagulls Screaming Kiss Her, Kiss Her

When they wrote it on the wall

It's Thanksgiving time, and you'll be lucky if you don't find yourself scrambling for something Hallmarkish to offer as they go 'round the table reciting the things life has blessed us with. And you draw a blank, which is a terrifying moment because you feel like a base ingrate, not even able to identify a single honest object of gratitude. But then you realize all the miseries you're not suffering (that maybe someone else is) and all the banal moments of non-hardship are worth appreciating together, and deserve a big collective shout-out if you can hold them all together in your mind for a second. I'll be working on a way to capture that in my moment of table time. Oh, and also, I thank the Lord for giving us Steely Dan.

Meanwhile, have a happy one. Back next week.

Steely Dan - The Caves of Altamira

Miles of pavement

Highway to highway to New Jersey and back, through industrial mysteries and then between the trees, it's easy to fall into a hypnotic trance. Complementary songs need just one chord to sooth and disturb.

Cedric Im Brooks - Give Rasta Glory

A voice is a home

There are so many reasons to love this song. Great vintage rock n' roll groove. Louisiana roots. Dude playing the girl and frog parts with equal gusto (or at least the very fact that there is a frog part). Corey Haim singing along with it in the bathtub in The Lost Boys. Take your pick. But the best thing is that Mr. Henry seems pretty aware that these will be the best 2:20 of his life.

Clarence "Frogman" Henry - Ain't Got No Home

Life is but a memory

I don't care how somber or lonely he sounds, Nick Drake is always the magic elixir for washing away the hectic static of the day. Or the week. And he's great at reminding how ephemeral everything is. So let him usher in the weekend.

Nick Drake - Fruit Tree

How am I ever gonna know my home?

Gotta let it ride with Joni Mitchell. We pick it up with her mid-roadtrip in a state of serious mental dishevelment and feeling no sense of home. Interesting how much this rocks without the benefit of drums and only Jaco Pastorius riding shotgun on bass. Thank God that crazy bastard wasn't behind the wheel.

Joni Mitchell - Black Crow

Hey Joni

Inevitably, the switch would flip, and my appreciation for Joni Mitchell's mid-'70s jazz odyssey would flash on blindingly. Not just the fancy chords and incisive lyrics, but the whole sound world that vanquishes past prejudice against boomer folky caricatures. I've had that damn Summer Lawns album on repeat for days, and I can't help but share a couple nuggets of this overdue pleasure.

Joni Mitchell - The Hissing of Summer Lawns

Joni Mitchell - The Boho Dance

Holding hands in the dark

Lady Nite Jewel sure is making a play for diva status. She's taken a big step out of the lo-fi basement. But who knows what's waiting in the rest of the house. I had this song on repeat while waiting in the long voting line. It was lovely enough to lift me out of that environment for a time. And wouldn't serendipity just compel to bring it as the answer to yesterday's lights.

Nite Jewel - In The Dark

Getting to the light

Apologies for the extended silence. It was quite the eventful week, and 'blaguetime became a victim of prioritization. I'm not sure if today's song has any overall resonance with recent goings-on, but between the election result and overall mobilization for post-hurricane recovery, I'm laying the most optimistic meaning on the song title. Of course, its moody grays will hold in check any notion that the sun has found its way out from the clouds yet.

Siouxsie and the Banshees - Into The Light

Decided?

Well, here we are at Election Day — the merciful end to this chapter in the slo-mo theater of American decline, replete with all its absurd characters and narrative of non-issues/non-debate brought down to reality show proportions. Hopefully, it'll also mean releasing the tension of that 2+ year buildup, so we can have about 2 weeks of aftermath and then start getting ready for the next go-round. But what if it doesn't? What if we can stay locked in this mental stalemate and just keep sliding along on its grim inertia. Here's a song for that future.

Sonic Youth - Death Valley '69

Spirited

There's been a lot of talk about "the new normal" for life in a post-Sandy world. Maybe we can expect killer storms every year or two, landscapes reshaped, and all modern comforts exposed for how fragile they are. Scary obviously, but also a little bit liberating if you're inclined to fall into ruts. And on the positive side, maybe it's also a world where volunteers wrap around the block and you don't honestly consider yourself satisfied unless you've done something for someone who has lost more than you. On the musical front, it seems I've entered a world where this song has suddenly become appealing.

Patti Smith - Smells Like Teen Spirit

Adrift

The storm hit and ran, but left so many shards of its impact that it'll keep wounding us for months. Or years. Or many years. The relief I felt when my neighborhood was spared was quickly overwhelmed by the sense that our bones have been broken to a degree that is just becoming apparent. Which leads to a feeling of general sickness, even as my pseudo-staycation allows me to stroll my immediate streets throughout a couple mild afternoons and enjoy wine-softened evenings full of easy electrical comforts. A sickness exacerbated by the knowledge that while my hometown is maybe less underwater now, it has been distorted in a permanent way, and still lacking in eyewitness reassurance of basic stability. 

The good news is that this kind of anxiety beyond my own personal well-being makes me confident that I'm generally a decent human being. And also I found some music that resonates with my current unmoored state of mind. I'll be tied up the rest of this week, so enjoy this one until Monday.

Loose Fur - Chinese Apple

The storm approaching

The big storm is set to pounce. Noisy wind and rain aside, this is actually the least interesting part. The anticipation is where the mind does its worst. And where my own tendency to envision cataclysmic events is free to run terribly wild. Hopefully, none of those visions will turn to reality. And if they do, hopefully we can live in the mental eye until it all passes.

Carlos Maria Trindade/Nuno Canavarro - Segredos M

Snuggle sounds

Can't get myself out of this Library trip I'm on this week, so I'm not even gonna fight it. This one may be a bridge too far for some in terms of its audio gumminess. But again, when you're this far down the rabbit hole, your moral compass is mostly useless. So many ridiculous made-for-TV moments come to mind, but I'll let my friend Terence's reaction be the word on it: "perfect accompaniment to a sumptuous dinner, prepared tableside by an expert waitstaff, in a rotating restaurant that offers commanding views of both the marina and municipal airport." Indeed-o.

Unit Six - Snuggle

Genetic sequencing

Why do I love sequenced synth patterns so much? The way they've been deployed since mid-70s Tangerine Dream, they're basically a tacky form of the warm, interlocking melodic rhythms of the Steve Reich school. They're also so central to the sounds of film music I grew up hearing that they feel like a part of myself. Some say we live in a culture of chintzy illusions, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I'm attracted to cheap knockoffs like a moth to light. Here's a fine example of such a dinky pleasure. Plus, a synth fretless bass solo!

Frederic Rousseau - ADSR

Mystery ambient

Maybe it's a symptom of an overly multi-tasked life, but these days I often just want music that floats in the air and doesn't shock or even tug at my attention. Interestingly, it's the music that doesn't seem to care much about what I think that perks my ears up the most. There are many obvious ambient classics out there, but I really love it when Library composers step up and take me to a new, happily mysterious place. I wonder what documentary or French commercial might've put this to use.

Guy Boulanger and Edgar Vercy - Cormoran Blesse

Harmolodic happening

It's like Ornette Coleman said — if you've got a band of great improvisers, let 'em fly all at once. I'm paraphrasing. Bad-ass drummer Ronald Shannon Jackson clearly modeled his Decoding Society on Coleman's "harmolodic" approach and very un-snooty welcoming of electric instruments into the party. The band's records — sometimes dense, often super-energetic, always colorful — are absolutely worth checking out. 

Here are a couple tunes from the bizarrely-jacketed Barbecue Dog, which features not only a young Vernon Reid (on banjo?!), but also that sweet anomaly of a drummer-penned piece without a single drum to be heard.

Ronald Shannon Jackson and The Decoding Society - Yugo Boy

Ronald Shannon Jackson and The Decoding Society - Mystery At Dawn

Do your time, then come home for good

It's hard to listen to rock n' roll these days. Now that everything is given some sort of digital lift — if it wasn't a purely digital product to begin with — rock bands are falling all over themselves to show just how raw and primal they are. Which is a pretty sad sight/sound. It's like when someone tells you how funny he is. Makes me enjoy bands that just made rock music in the style of people they grew up listening to and didn't sweat their audience's reaction. Sloan didn't make much of a claim to originality, and I'm fine with that since it yielded songs like this.

Sloan - Everything You've Done Wrong

Plan ahead

Funny how few musicians explore even a fraction of what synthesizers can do. Of course, I love synth pop as much as anyone (why do pop hooks sounds so good on keyboards anyway?), but I also appreciate those who actually use them to synthesize sound. Residents-inspired Der Plan were luminaries of the art synth scene in '80s Germany, and I'm kicking myself for not knowing that until recently. Making up for it with a double dose here, from both ends of their run. The first sounds like it was made by factory machines, the other like something out of a twisted version of Disney. Both seem ahead of their time. And ours.

Der Plan - Hans Und Gabi

Der Plan - Space Bob

Give the drummer some

Bill Bruford was one of my first big influences when I was learning to play drums (coincided with a first exposure to prog rock). Happy to say his precision and tastefulness still stand up when I put on those Yes and King Crimson records now. His solo career is a bit less sterling. He jumped on the fusion train pretty hard in the mid-'70s, and most people never really looked good wearing those pants. And yet, well, how can you not find something to admire in a drummer competently taking a bandleader role. And writing songs, no less! As noodling goes, this band kept it relatively tight. Then there's that bass solo commencing at 4:22. Don't know whether to love or hate, but I can't turn away.

Bruford - QED

And you know it's alright

Well, I would never have foreseen the Bats having three songs up here on the 'blague. But then, serendipity has always been a big part of the project. This is a driving, feedbacky one from the excellent benefit album for Chris Knox, released in the wake of his tragic stroke. As much as I never believe it when songs tell me "it's alright," I kinda gotta go with them here.

The Bats - Just Do It

Slavin' away

If Roxy Music didn't close the curtain on enough of an Armani note, then Bryan Ferry took things to an even tighter level of sophisti-pop (or cheezy soundtracking of '80s romantic montages, depending on your perspective) in his solo work. As usual, my perspective shifts pretty regularly on the matter. One thing that's beyond question — it's good music for sous-chef tasks.

Bryan Ferry - Slave To Love

Dinosaur days

"Synthesizers dictate the wonder, anticipation, and fear of exploring a 16-bit moon. It is a world half-remembered in neon synth beams, arpeggio craters, and washed in a liquid glass glaze." So goes a self-description of Philadelphia retro synth pilots Dinosaurs On Fire. Of course, the 'blague is not usually in the business of career hype or copy/pasting press promos. But I respect bands that bother to make visual what their aesthetic is going for. Also, I kinda couldn't have said it better myself. Here's a groovy tune from their debut album. Suitable for exploring inner and outer space alike.

Dinosaurs On Fire - Prokaryotes and Eukaryotes

Righteous chattin'

It's a shame that the crazies have grabbed a monopoly on God. There was a time when you could write an earnest song about the need for a spiritual dimension in life without pivoting to some right wing talking point. There is no one today of Stevie Wonder's caliber in a lot of areas, but the absense of benign spiritualism may be the most sad. At least we can enjoy his Godly classix like this one. Also, the weird krautrock-ish vibe is totally doing it for me.

Stevie Wonder - Have A Talk With God

Getting old (and young)

Jesus Christ, I'm 35 today! I wouldn't consider that to be old, except that I continue to picture myself being perpetually 13. Meanwhile, what better way to celebrate a birthday than to go see Morrissey perform (though I'm not sure if this will make me feel young or old). And I'm going to indulge myself even more here with some Smiths favorites, albeit with '60s star Sandie Shaw standing in place of our familiar Charming Man.

It's a testament to how much I've listened to this band that Morrissey's voice sounds completely normal—almost unremarkable—to me now. And so it takes the vocal flamboyance of these Shaw versions to startle me into remembering how unique and compelling his voice seemed way back, and why I was drawn to it at the tender age of 13.

The Smiths with Sandie Shaw - Jeanne

The Smiths with Sandie Shaw - I Don't Owe You Anything

Passing sounds

I mostly remember Helium as the kind of band that would come on the stereo in the living room of the house that my college band used to practice in. Funny how a band that soundtracked the moments between moments and didn't command much of my attention would find a way to burrow deep into my subconscious so that my memory of that time instantly brings them to mind. Maybe it was Mary Timony's husky but gentle indie rock voice. One that seemed ubiquitous at the time, but is sadly absent from the air around me these days.

Helium - Ancient Cryme

Dreaming of yesterday in black and white

Nick Waterhouse has done his homework. From the smart suits to hot reverb-drenched production, his vintage presentation is impeccable. It helps that the songs are spot-on — retro R&B/soul/early rock/whatever reflecting a vinyl nerd's curatorial care. I'm pretty much sold, but however hip-shaking the music, it's hard to not hear Simon Reynolds whispering killjoy commentary into my ear about the modern music's need to marinade in the past at the expense of bold progress. I guess I go back forth on that one (heh heh, get it?).

Nick Waterhouse - Some Place

Full-throated

There are some songs you come to love simply through trying to learn to play them respectably. Thankfully, I get to range widely on that front. When it comes to mariachi, you have to adjust your ears a little. It's not about subtlety or exquisite textures, but rather full-throated projection, like your head might burst from the singing. All the instruments feel like that, especially the horns, as evidenced in all their pinched glory on this track. Special bonus — lyrical depth! Needing the illusion of love to feel love. Or something like that.

El Coyote y Su Banda - Arboles de la Barranca

Sugar squares

I can't help but love songs that announce themselves as the sound of a local scene. Forget about an ambition to speak for a generation or even an emerging genre, give me your neighborhood cheerleaders.

From what I gather, Airebeat is the band's answer to Merseybeat, replacing Liverpool's River Mersey with the Aire River that runs through Leeds. I have never been to either place, so I'll take the song's description of the place as a backwater at face value. All the more reason to stir up some energy with this nugget of infectious power pop.

The Squares - This Is Airebeat

From the mellow jungle

And now for some sit-down funk, well-suited to kicking back in a rocking chair with a nice whiskey or whatever you like at the end of the day. I'm still impressed that these guys were able to accommodate a legion of jam band fans and still keep their credibility intact. Guess that just speaks to the universal appeal of wah-wah on a Hammond B3.

Medeski Martin and Wood - Wiggly's Way

Cadillac walking

There's funky music for parties, and there's funky music for taking yourself down the street. It's all about feeling classy, and the brassy sass of tunes like this just makes you feel like there's a space you own that no one had better violate. I feel like it would be a great audio aid for babies just learning to get up on their own 2 legs.

Dayton Sidewinders - Slipping Into Darkness

Solitude standing

Suzanne Vega reappears, and maybe it's not so surprising. If you're gonna strap on an acoustic guitar, you either need to amaze with belted-out simplicity or draw in with soft understatement. I guess her gift for the latter was the key to being a folk singer in '80s New York, even if her cool, sharp observations seem decidedly un-folky. Here's a song that creates its own quiet, near-wistful place inside the cacophony of city bustle.

Suzanne Vega - Night Vision

Great lakes

The thing about big anthemic music is that lyrics are really secondary. For me, they function mostly as sound. The voice is such an amazing instrument, it often seems a waste to distract with making an audience press close to make out the words, which often are not worth the effort. These mush-mouthed indie rockers illustrate the point nicely with this ocean-sized song.

The Besnard Lakes - For Agent 13

Body talk(box)

Before Roger Troutman acquired his bionic—er...talkbox/vocoder-enhanced voice—he inhabited a far fleshier realm of funk. No judgments; he was awesome with and without his machines. This jam may be pre-digital, but it's fully turned-on. 

Roger and The Human Body - Been This Way Before

Gawk rock

Take experimental/improv musicians, whisper some proggy suggestions in their ears, and sit back to enjoy the weird fun. No one ever said rock instruments have to sound anything like rock n' roll, and bands like this demonstrate the point. 2-fer Tuesday...just because.

No Safety - Sad

No Safety - Happy For Now

Time comes (sometimes)

I saw that Searching For Sugar Man documentary last week and was so heartened to be reminded that failure in spite of talent and effort is not always the end of the line. It may take decades and some blind viral luck, but the possibility of becoming loved — almost deified —  in another corner of the world means you can have a life or at least a big presence outside of your own time. Really an amazing prospect.

In terms of the music itself, Rodriguez blasts past nearly every folkie I've heard. Of his time, but not cringingly dated. Despite the Dylan-esque nasal drawl, there's a basic songbird melodicism and ease of delivery that would be lovely to listen to even if the lyrics weren't snappy as a rubber band. Here is one example of his rare gifts.

Rodriguez - Street Boy

Moonbob

Another day, another Bob. A much less throaty one today though. I'll bet most people don't know who Bob James is, but I doubt you could listen to CD101.9 for more than 20 minutes without having some of his smooveness slathered on your ears. Or if you like to watch reruns on late night TV. Anyway, here is, gone full '80s. Maybe not quite moonwalking, but still definitely low-gravity.

Bob James - Moonbop

Post-pirate

Well I seemed to have forgotten about International Talk Like A Pirate Day until it was too late. But it's never too late to celebrate goofy voices. This is one of those sappy songs that would be intolerable if the dude gave it a conventionally pretty delivery. Instead, we get some kind of muppet-esque ballad that belongs in a movie where everyone finds a reason to hold hands.

Bob Carpenter - Now And Then

Grandpa's coughing in the kitchen, but the strings sounds good

Lambchop has always been a great example of the power of quiet. And of the ability for a big band to make the smallest sounds. Their latest continues the path of perplexing lyrics delivered in that pre-cancerous rasp, mingled with music of ever more refined beauty. All that was brought into powerful relief when I saw them a few months back, which made me want to live in that house of whispers for as long as they could keep the noisy world at bay.

Lambchop - If Not I'll Just Die

Layering up to the sky

Think overdubbing has no place in jazz? Well, you won't be flying with Les McCann if you do. His Layers album was the first 32-track recording (remember when musicians were actually limited by tape?), and damned if he didn't just let himself keep adding the...um... layers. And yet, like a finely packed suitcase, those layers don't overstuff the songs. Case in point...

Les McCann - Soaring (Part 1)