This was a feature that I used to do for the Daily Californian’s Arts & Entertainment blog. I decided to give it life again here. At the end of each month, I’ll post a feature highlighting five quality tracks released during that month.
1. American Wrestlers: “I Can Do No Wrong”
This band took me completely by surprise. “I Can Do No Wrong” is reminiscent of a lot of indie pop/rock out there, but it’s more nuanced and invigorating. The song seamlessly weaves three different kinds of guitar sounds together — gritty guitar chords, jangly guitar arpeggios, and an acoustic guitar backdrop. The part that takes this song from “really good” to “great” occurs at 2:17, when the “gritty” guitar stops, leaving just the beautifully upbeat, acoustic guitar chord changes and a drum machine. The singer comes in with a catchy melody, and the rest is history. It’s a perfect slice of mid-2000’s-style indie, but with a twist that makes it wholly modern.
This was a feature that I used to do for the Daily Californian’s Arts & Entertainment blog. I decided to give it life again here. At the end of each month, I’ll post a feature highlighting five quality tracks released during that month.
I’m not exaggerating when I say that I think March was the best month for music in years. It was jam-packed. It took everything in my power to keep this post to just 5 songs.
(Update from 2024: I still consider this to be the greatest month of music of the last 15 years. All five of the songs here made my 200 Best Songs of the Decade, two of which made the top 10! An insane month.)
1. Sufjan Stevens: “Death With Dignity”
Sufjan Stevens’ penchant for simple, clear beauty is unparalleled. On his latest album, Carrie & Lowell, Stevens bares his soul about coping with the recent death of his mother, who struggled with mental illness and abandoned him and his family when he was a year old. He ended up spending three summers with his mother (Carrie) and stepfather (Lowell) in Eugene, Oregon, which provided the only real memories that he has of Carrie. Carrie & Lowell opens with “Death With Dignity,” an incredibly pretty song that sets the stage for the emotional depth to come on the album. “Spirit of my silence, I can hear you, but I’m afraid to be near you, and I don’t know where to begin.” The song is full of lyrical gut-punches: “What is that song you sing for the dead?”, “I forgive you, mother, I can hear you, and I long to be near you, but every road leads to an end.”
As far as the music goes, Stevens does what he absolutely does best — laying his quiet, haunting voice over a finger-picking acoustic guitar (and just the right amount of piano touches). At the end, the instruments cut out, leaving a choir of Sufjans, blending their voices together mutedly from a distance. The moment is perfect, the song is perfect, the album is perfect. No hyperbole here. The album really is perfect. Check it out.
How my favorite producer’s impeccable musical taste and respect for history has been both his biggest strength and biggest weakness.
“It was not my intent to break copyright laws. It was my intent to make an art project.”
If the Beatles had The White Album and Jay Z had The Black Album, that’s just asking for a Grey Album, right? Brian Burton thought so. Now, over twenty albums and three Grammys later, Burton, otherwise known as Danger Mouse, has been proclaimed not just “Producer of the Decade,” but one of the most influential people of the 21st century so far. Hyperbole? Yeah, probably. But he has certainly been one of the most influential people to me. He has created both chart-topping hits and critically-acclaimed masterpieces. In my opinion, he has even claimed a spot alongside George Martin and Rick Rubin in the pantheon of transcendent music producers.
However, something troubling has developed over the past two years — lately, Burton has been coasting in neutral. Where his production was once fresh and original, it has gradually become a little stale and overbearing. It’s something we need to analyze.
Burton’s career can be broken up into four phases:
Phase I: Danger Mouse the Hip-Hop Producer
Phase II: Danger Mouse the Genre-Blender
Phase III: Danger Mouse the Excellent Neo-Psychedelic, Ambient, Indie Rock Producer
Phase IV: Danger Mouse the Stale and Overbearing Neo-Psychedelic, Ambient, Indie Rock Producer
Grimes is a perfectionist, she cares what the public thinks, and she’s delusional. That all sounds much harsher than I mean it to be, but it’s mostly true. Grimes, who creates ingenious, enveloping soundscapes all from her computer, scrapped an entire album’s worth of songs last year, claiming that it “sucked.”
Her decision to forego the album was partially due to negative public opinion of her one-off single last year, the poppy, radio-friendly (but still radio-shunned) “Go”. Grimes originally intended for Rihanna to sing on the track, but her camp declined, so she released it herself, causing a rift among her fans between those that appreciated her new direction and those that hated it. Grimes noticed the backlash and decided to start over.
But this week, she released a demo from the “lost album” called “REALiTi.” In the video description, she calls it “a mess,” but if it’s a mess, it’s a transcendent and beautiful mess. It’s an amazing song, and it makes me REALLY want to hear the other tracks that were scrapped. Grimes is an unparalleled talent — witness it here.
This was a feature that I used to do for the Daily Californian’s Arts & Entertainment blog. I decided to give it life again here. At the end of each month, I’ll post a feature highlighting five quality tracks released during that month.
1. Alabama Shakes: “Don’t Wanna Fight”
Alabama Shakes surprised everyone with their fully-formed, blues-rock debut Boys & Girls in 2012, gaining popularity on the back of lead single “Hold On.” The band makes their return this year, delighting us with the booming and gritty “Don’t Wanna Fight.” The instrumentation sounds like peak Brothers-era Black Keys, but with the always-impressive yowl of lead singer Brittany Howard.
Turns out Damian Lillard, Oakland native and clutch Portland Trailblazers all-star, can rap. He appeared on Sway in the Morning on Sirius XM radio and “spit a little bit” with perfect rhythm and some deep lyrics. Check out Sway’s “pleasant surprise” face at 2:54. Turns out Lillard can shut down on the mic as well as on the court.
One of the unsung strengths of the recent film Selma is its soundtrack. With the exception of the celebrated, Oscar-winning, gospel-rap of John Legend and Common’s “Glory”, Selma is full of of 1960’s rhythm & blues that succeeds at being both understated and evocative. No huge hits are used, but the music still expertly and thoroughly channels the spirit of the American South during the 1960’s.
Two of my favorites from the soundtrack are the slow-churning, sweaty R&B of “Ole Man Trouble” by Otis Redding, and the spare, acoustic blues of “Alabama Blues” by J.B. Lenoir, as he sings “I never will love Alabama / Alabama seem to never have loved poor me.” The songs’ lyrics give us a glimpse into the oppression felt by black Americans in the South, and you can almost feel the heat and humidity in the music.