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