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Why I Decree it to Be So:I don’t love it as much as my favorite National record, Sad Songs For Dirty Lovers. I’ll go ahead and admit that right now. But I love it all the same. There’s something about this band that seems to get stronger as they go along, perhaps it’s the whole maturation process. Whatever it is, The National makes some of the finest music to wallow to that I’ve ever heard. For some reason, in my mind they often seem like sonic equivalents of the (brilliant) plays of Tennessee Williams, imperfect slivers of American Gothic steeped in layers of sorrow and yet achingly beautiful. The songs on High Violet only add to this parallel. It’s a sullen, sulky record, which is exactly what we National fans expect. High Violet is an album of regrets, and it’s beguiling in its unhappiness. Once more, the five Ohio boys turned New Yorkers have made music to soothe my weary soul. The wait for High Violet, agonizing though it may have been, was well worth it. When it comes to The National, being sad feels pretty good. (SEE MORE)mp3: Bloodbuzz Ohio (The National from High Violet)
Why I Decree it to Be So:
And now, dear friends, we come to my favorite band in all of Scotland, The Phantom Band. As The Kinks would say, they're not like everybody else, and hallelujah for that. Second album The Wants sees the gents travel to all sorts of kooky sonic places, anchored all the while by the big, earthy brogue of Rick Anthony. It's not the record I envisioned The Phantom Band making, but strangely The Wants is even more than I could have hoped for. The Wants goes here, there, and everywhere, backwards and forwards, upside down, rightside up, and just about anywhere else. They defy space, time, and genre with their mindbending blend of rocking dancefloor folk confoundery, and in the process made one of the most interesting records of 2010 by 1000 light years, and then some.
Yes, friends, that's right. It's the gray season of Winter and it's cold cold cold (ok, so it's not cold today, but work with me here), and damned if that's not as good an excuse as any to listen to some damn FINE music of the local variety.
We are happy as clammy clams to be sponsoring what will, undoubtedly, be a night of insanely, wickedly, hearing-loss inducingly loud and ridiculously rad music on February 28th, starring the behemoth talents of Mittenfields and Forevsner. The night promises to be so loud, as it happens, that earplugs will be provided for one and all. We don't want anyone's eardrums popping, after all! So come hang out with us, see two killer bands, AND do good while you have a good time. How's that, you ask? Well you see, darlingest darling dears, the proceeds of the show are going to benefit We Are Family DC. So chase the Mondays away with us, down at Arlington's Galaxy Hut. We can't wait to see your pretty, pretty faces. To get you in the mood, here's a couple lo-fi, rough gems from Forevsner.
mp3: The Ones Who Steal Yer Trash (Forevsner)
mp3: So We Stayed Home (Forevsner)
Why I Decree it to Be So:Goodness gracious, great balls of fire indeed. Riddle me this, friends, how does a band from Blighty manage to channel the spirits of rock’s crucial dawning era so convincingly that listening to this here record might challenge anybody as to when it was made? How can they capture the exact firecracker tinkling of the piano, the rough, jagged polish of the guitar, and most of all, the soulful, guttural, holy howl so needed to inspire legions of fans into riotous abandon? I might not have an answer to any of that, but what I can tell you is that The Jim Jones Revue should probably become one of your favorite new/new favorite bands immediately, if not sooner. This self-titled release has been around for a little while, but just now are we Yanks lucky enough to be able to get our mitts on it. And trust me, you’ll want to get a hold of this one. It’s like having Jerry Lee Lewis wiggling around at the keys, Little Richard running rampant with the mic, and the best axemen and rhythm section you can possibly imagine carrying the rest of the load. The rock just does not stop on this record. Does. Not. Stop. The band goes gangbusters from start to finish, and I can only imagine the holy hell of a live show they must put on (hey y'all, come on down to the D of C). (SEE MORE)
mp3: Hey Hey Hey Hey (The Jim Jones Revue from The Jim Jones Revue) (hey hey hey hey Rollo & Grady!)
Why I Decree it to Be So:
You've heard me ramble on about DC's very own Suns of Guns before, and seeing their record On The Border of Snakeland on my list should therefore come as no dang surprise. This record, my little tenderhearts, is absolutely killer. It's full of filth & fury, grit & grime, and oh yes, rock & roll. This, my friends, is a band that means business. The guitar is raw. The vocals are raw. The bass and drums are, well, you guessed it. Suns of Guns on record really do sound like refugees from the Motor City of The Stooges and The MC5, full of raw power and ramblin' roses but with that extra little DC dirty to them. And let's face it, and band with a song called "The Them" that kinda sounds a little like the actual Them after a month-long bender wins major, major points with me. Without a doubt one of the filthiest, dirtiest, nastiest, sweatiest rock records of the whole dang 2010 open season.
mp3: Purple Bats (Suns of Guns from On The Border of Snakeland)
Why I Decree it to Be So:
I'm still hoping (i.e. deluding myself) that the disintegration of Women as a band is a mere hiccup, but on the slight chance that it's a little more permanent, well, at least they went out with one hell of a bang. Public Strain is absolutely golden, a hotbed of dissonant dreams and unexpected beauty. It's a record that shows tremendous musical growth, and even more tremendous awesomeness. Opener "Can't You See" puts typical Women-esque dissonant discordance against Velvet Underground-inspired strings for a perfect introduction to what else lies in store. "China Steps" is a favorite of mine, with the sinister repetition of drummery as well as in the severity of the guitar. It's almost violent in its' aggression at times, and damned if it's not one of my favorite songs of the year. The whole record, really, is a jaw-droppingly jarring jangle, a crack'd looking glass of 60s psych, perfect pop nuggets, and even some good old fashioned noise rock thrown in for shits and giggles. Squeamish folk might want to look elsewhere, because Public Strain bares its' teeth early and often. But for those of us who dig that kinda thing, well, this record's a welcome treat.
mp3: China Steps (Women from Public Strain)
Why I Decree it to Be So:
I love pretty much just about everything about Big Echo. No lie, my friends. The Morning Benders hit it out of that proverbial park, got a hole-in-one, and got themselves the winning buzzer-beater or whatever little sporty metaphor tickles your fancy. Big Echo is bucolically beautiful, robust and sunbursting, an homage to the beachtastic 60s and the glammiest of 70s in equal, and equally-pleasing measure. Christopher Chu's vocals are simply lovely, and oh-so beach ready, and the whole record elicits plenty of California daydreamin. It's idyllic and poppily pastoral and just plain gorgeous. Buy it immediately.
mp3: Excuses (The Morning Benders from Big Echo)
Why I Decree it to Be So:
