Inward

There comes a time when mysterious, near-ominous ambient is all you'll tolerate. Not quite a desire for silence, but something that could become silence without too much of a change. You don't want a lot, but you don't want nothing either. A little bit to nudge the environment into a slightly curious space. Atmospheric uber-dude Robert Rich has built a career on that aesthetic (or at least the stuff I've heard). If there's a sound for bringing your body close to its center to preserve precious warmth, this may be it. Today, at least.

Robert Rich - Glint In Her Eyes

Covered in tattoos

Sticking with cover tunes and things tangentially related to jazz. Petra Haden (daughter of famed bassist Charlie Haden) had the fun idea to cover the entirety of The Who Sell Out using only her very flexible voice. Gimmicky? Sure, but if you've got range and a sense of humor, I say go for it. Also, the effort foregrounds the mischief and warmth of the album itself despite Pete Townshend's big rock narcissism.

This tune is funny, and also a little sad to me. Less the song's fault and more my admittedly fuddy-duddy distaste for the cringe-worthy ink I see on nearly every body around. I'm already bored of tramp stamps, ankle butterflies, full sleeves, and neck tributes to babies/grandma. Stephen Wright joked that he had a full body tattoo of himself, except 2 inches taller. Who's laughing now?

Petra Haden - Tattoo

Everywhere I go the sky is falling

Interesting how I had a sudden desire to listen to M. Ward, and then I go check my calendar, and see that I've got plans to watch him play tonight! A nice synchronicity. I don't usually think to listen to him, which is probably due to my being far less intrigued by his music learning some actual information about the man. Which is to say, when it became clear that he wasn't a phantom of some real or invented part of American lore. Maybe the biggest pitfall of fame is becoming a known quantity and losing the possibility of shrouding yourself in mystery. I guess I'll find out soon enough whether I dig his current material. Hopefully, it's as sad and soulful as this tune.

M. Ward - Paul's Song

Me again kiss again kiss me

One of the coolest and most maddening things about Arthur Russell's catalog is how nothing ever sounds finished and everything begs to be rethought from a different angle. In that spirit comes a mind-bending re-interpretation of the classic "Kiss Me Again" which evolves through various psych-y, drone-y, beautiful passages that refract elements of the original and, as far as I'm concerned, could go on slowly unfolding for a happy forever. Here's an edit I made that amps up its most straight-up pretty aspects.

Polmo Polpo - Kiss Me Again And Again (Songblague edit)

Gravely epic

Big endless gray rainy ominousness up above demands a song of equal vastness, preferably one as puffed up as all that nimbus. I remember a few years ago when these Danish dudes had the blogs aflutter with pop epics as earnest as only imitators can make them. Dug out their hit album over the weekend, and enjoyed it with fresh ears. Maybe you will too.

Mew - Why Are You Looking Grave

Smoky mountain

When it comes to music about drugs (or made with drugs), I don't go for subtlety. In an age where there's no longer anything taboo about the subject, there's nothing lamer than coded references or droopy winking eyes to hint at the matter. And while I generally don't like music that requires drugs to enjoy, I sure do enjoy tunes that evoke their stinkiest cultural signifiers — spilled bongwater, filthy leather jackets, big blown speakers in the basement, etc. This one's got all that, plus some nice krautrock vibes keeping the high from getting too low.

Black Mountain - Druganaut

Fighting and suffering

First there was twinkling and flickering that seemed to exist without beginning. Which gave way to a mighty gallop of crunching guitars and rolling drums that stampeded across the landscape. From the one house left undestroyed, there came a naive, unsure voice pitched a bit plaintive and a lot blank. Which then stopped as a new flickering began. That happened in a recent dream. And it sounded like this.

Mice Parade - Passing & Galloping

So pretty in the city of industry

There are lots of times when texture is everything, and I'm often happy to wile away the hours rubbing musical contours over my ears. Then there's sweet guitar pop, with its equally sublime pleasures.

Oranger - Crooked in the Weird of the Catacombs

I need excitement, oh I need it bad

John Peel famously said that "Teenage Kicks" was his favorite song of all time. Can't argue with the tastes of a legend. And it's right up there for me too. When your aim is this true, it's hard to call it anything but perfection. Pure rock n' roll, topped off with a rare consciousness that these kicks desperately being craved are the special domain of the teenage animal.

The Undertones - Teenage Kicks

Also, a great song sounds great in any language. Including broken English.

Nouvelle Vague - Teenage Kicks

Little big band

Some summer albums renew their gifts year after year. This sprightly band of Australians painted their fun, bright colors all over my 2005, and tracks like this one remind me why. They lost me when they tried to get all hip and drum machine-y. For this kind of stuff, you really can't beat the sound of marching cymbals.

Architecture In Helsinki - Tiny Paintings

Ice road

Something about Italy I've taken back with me — a weird appreciation of American roads and drivers. I guess eventually you get used to hairpin turns on ridiculously narrow hill roads, sudden appearances of main streets and pedestrians following blind curves, and nearly no signs, as well as road sharers who haven't got the slightest bit of patience for your perplexity. Maybe, but I'm happy to not have to. It's hard to choose music for that type of driving. Back on our roads, you can imagine all kinds of sinister and unrestrained contexts. Here's a song for some of that.

Ladytron - International Dateline

Music like the blinding light of the sun (or cars being driven irresponsibly)

Oops, looks like Tuesday got away from me. I suppose Memorial Day is technically the start of summer slackerdom. And what with my heading out on vacation Thursday, it'll be a mostly Songblague-less first half of June. Allow me to make up for my upcoming absence with enough musical intensity for a whole week. (Also, it's a nice little segue from last week's Krautrockery. I can't imagine this band existing without those vintage motors).

M83 - A Guitar and A Heart

Sunshine

Is sunny Afropop a substitute for the experience of actual sunshine? Some among us would argue that seeing the sun make its progress from behind a window would qualify as seeing the sunshine. I am not one of these some. But this voice is nearly enough to lift my face out of darkness and into the shape of a smile. The drum machine helps too.

M'bilia Bell - Shawuri Yako

Icy icy

I may be cheating a little with this one. These two songs are the same song, but delivered in such wildly different voices that the genetic link is very much in question. I keep meaning to like the Fiery Furnaces more than I actually do. In theory, I like that they wrap many of their best hooks in dense cobwebs, but in practice, I often reach for something else. Maybe I'm a little crotchety that way. Here's one where they just let simple be simple. A dreamy little helicopter ride over a mythical topography.

The Fiery Furnaces - Tropical Ice-Land

And here's the big colorful cartoon version. Sounds like end-credits music for a movie you should try to make.

The Fiery Furnaces - Tropical Ice-Land

Going rogue wave

I made a pact with indie rock a long time ago. I will overlook shitty/mumbled/pointlessly obscure lyrics as long as the music is awesome enough to contain my attention and the singer's voice isn't too irritating. It's working out pretty well. And here's a good example. Thumbs up on the hooks and the lead vocal that falls nicely within my singalong range.

Rogue Wave - Are You On My Side

Trois Gymnopédies, trois vues

Some historians talk about the short 20th century, meaning that the real break with the previous century occurred with the first shots of World War I. That may be true, but in another sense, the long 20th century began with Erik Satie's 3 Gymnopédies—the granddaddy of ambient, minimalism, maybe even jazz (stuff's kinda blue, after all). And to me at least, they suggest a subjective, interior space that cuts against the old paradigm for this kind of stuff.

These pieces don't feel connected to any particular time or place. So in the Modernist spirit, I'm thinking why not get all cubist and offer three very different ways of looking at one of them. Here's the faithful piano version, performed by an eminent Satie interpreter.

Aldo Ciccolini - Trois Gymnopédies: Lent et Douloureux

And here's the Yesterday's Future version, late-'70s style. Music for evening contemplation in space cities. Best thing Gary Numan ever did.

Gary Numan - Trois Gymnopédies: Lent et Douloureux

And in a nice inversion of mood, here's the candyland J-pop version. Satie goes Animé.

Pine*am - Gymnopédie 0.1

I let my hair down

From a meditation to a burst of troubled energy. Everyone loves Wolf Parade, and the band keeps giving reasons to justify that. Here's an early one. Spencer sounds desperate for something, like he's chasing you down the hall, shouting threats and pleas. The band thrashes along like their namesake.

Wolf Parade - Killing Armies

A song before dying

The long tones, the funereal cadence that doesn't drag, the resignation that doesn't blink but can still harmonize. Really, if you had time before dying to deliberate on your own last moments, I think this is the way to go out.

Talk about making a song your own. I love that old Warren Defever just got down to the barest lyrical grist and dispensed with all the Jesus stuff. In his restlessness, he's revisited this tune a few times. It's come a long way from his original Neil Young-ish version, and he's got it right where it needs to be. An honest indie rock spiritual. Listen lots of times.

His Name Is Alive - This World Is Not My Home

Japanese lullabye

I miss having the kind of life where summers were the slowdown time. The last few years, summer's been full-on work overload, with all the uncertainty and anxietiy that carries with it. I'd complain if someone else had made my choices for me. The nice thing is that stress creates its own spaces of escape. And happily, lots of tunes have acted as my little magic carpet. Here's one from the Boredom's drummer Yoshimi's excellent side band. A dream in sound with a landscape full of misty forests and weird waterfalls.

OOIOO - Mountain Book

Theme Week - Training Montage (4/5)

You know that moment when you're running and you realize that your brain has gone someplace far away and that the best thing for the momentum is to keep it as remote from the body as possible? Here's a song for that zone. No drugs required.

Ellen Allien - Your Body Is My Body