Vows (2013)

Things I'm reminded of when listening to Slave Vows: how much I wanted to like The Icarus Line before even hearing them 'cause they looked like a handsome death metal band, how The Icarus Line dissed The Strokes when I was still in love w The Strokes and people said 'diss', how The Icarus Line called The Strokes '$ellout$' or something even though The $troke$ always sounded cynically planned if not entirely manufactured (like heaps of good pop!), how Joe Cardamone went all Birthday Party and I stopped paying attention to his band having 'discovered' The Birthday Party/Jesus Lizard/whatever, probably thanks to being 'warmed up' to that shit prior via the much celebrated Penance Soiree which for all of its praise sounded to me, and this is why I liked it back then, like Marilyn fucking Manson, something about how Aaron North was mean to the crowd at their Auckland show, something about mental collapse, how that same year I went to a festival solely to see The $troke$ and $Metallica$ and left permanently suspicious of both epics and hipster apathy, I hear Iggy Pop (inevitably), and Damo Suzuki (surprisingly), and the bullshit rockist figurative-athons stemming from the same born-too-late anxiety that lead to the garage rock revival of the 000s (and helped Penance Soiree reach the ridic audience it did, no doubt) have become the go-to method for describing Slave Vows and what's worse is something like this, but I'm having an operation in 3 hours! and I'm bored and hungry and all I wanted from this, 'cause I don't care whether rock's dead or alive or in the process of being 'saved', was to be excited and engaged, and oh hey this one sounds like Suicide, and it's excited me, but I want it LOUDER, so I'm gonna lie in bed for the next 2 days with headphones and Slave Vows and see if maybe the born-too-late-rs are right for once again, and think about this, as corny as it is, I thought it was defining at the time I left that $trotellica$ festival, for those of us already dead or alone or in stasis who want anything other than music designed to embody this state (they call it ennui!) or avoid acknowledging it altogether (epix), something which impulsively or intuitively breaks from it, in spite of it, having lived with it, and hating it, like it's not some cynical and so profound truth of our age but an inevitable bad luck which maybe real expression can cure: Slave Vows may or may not be just this on an individual level, but it's intended that way and so well worth a shot:

“In previous years I’ve put out records that have been too long, because I’ve been working on them for like four fuckin’ years, and I’ve imagined it’s probably the last one I’ll ever do, so I just put everything on there. But at this point in my life, I don’t really give a fuck anymore. I know I’m gonna make records for as long as I’m alive, so I’m not as precious any more, I don’t care. This thing only exists so we can be happy and do something that matters to us, and to the people who need this as much as we do.”

try / where to buy(?)

JESUS (1997)

BARGAIN BIN CD BUY #1

Darcy Clay is like a cult nz legend and I didn't know who he was until two weeks ago. I went to a friend's house to watch Gravity Falls and drink Pure Blonde and there was a shitty 90s anthem playlist thing on TV and Clay's Jesus I Was Evil came on and I was like holy shit the lo-fi-ness and retarded bassline this is the best thing and my friends were like you're stupid how have you not heard this his version of Jolene is the best version of Jolene. Jesus I Was Evil is an EP of bizarro musical characters and styles. What About It is like the character from Beck's I Get Lonesome (or actually any song on Mellow Gold) came to life and made a song. Jolene is a pseudo disco genderfuck masterpiece. I don't know what's going on with In the Middle but it has a good feeling and I like it. The title track is obviously the best. The live stuff on the second half of the CD is confusing and really good. Opening for Blur, his English Rose is a self-aware mess and although things sort of come together afterwards, they also totally don't. His raw vocals offer a more physically real angle to the glorious bedroom recordings of the EP. Any distinctions between beauty and retardation and self-awareness and sincerity are all ignored by Clay, and his songs effectively transcend any one feeling or conclusion that the listener might feel/make from them.

Jesus I Was Evil is fun and happy and self-conscious opposition rock and it's so fucking painful that it can and should bring a tear to your eye. RIP.

Came with an 'interactive CD-ROM' I've made into an iso if anyone's interested

A

v0 / flac / buy

Silkworm - In The West (1993)

I care less about Slint (beyond Good Morning, Captain) than the next guy, and maybe Pavement too (beyond Silence Kit)* and oh my hear that part in Raised By Tigers that's like straight lifting the noise guitar from In the Mouth of a Desert (!!!) but you should just HEAR IT come together out of that chaos, THAT'S why Silkworm exists, not because, as I said earlier, or intimated, they're a sad+alcoholic Pave-lint (or Slavement (!)), rather Silkworm is a mess that just can't keep itself together, a constantly moving shambles that's always falling apart and picking itself up again, forever damaged by the fall, but endlessly rebuilding itself. It creates its own chaos, because of its brain, and always wants to transcend itself, through using itself, in spite of itself (it being a collapsing, self-sabotaging mess). When Silkworm fall short of these ambitions, it's impossibly hard to look away. When they succeed it's like an against-all-odds situation that hardly makes any sense at all, a noise rock peoples' champion that hits as hard as Fugazi or even Shellac despite its messy origins, awkward gait, and disturbingly lean physical appearance.

*I decided to ask the guy next to me and it turns out I actually care more about Pavement than he does, and probably Slint too

A-

hey

oh the chains! (2009)

When it jangles loose and naturally quiet-loud it threatens to go somewhere the K record ironists couldn't possibly have it go, hence the frustrating tug-of-war of I don't know, taste (?), that takes place over these 10 messy tracks. I mean, we could pretend to be in on it. You could or can if you want but I'm off to do something else

C-

yo / buy

a cruisy illusion (2013)

Despite knowing Beyond Living rocked hardest in 2010 and not knowing (and even kind of writing off before hearing) who the fuck The Men were until it was too late for me to hype Open Your Heart to myself as album-which-rocks-hardest-2012-edition in a way that would mean anything year-wise (though it still meant/means a lot rock-wise), I find it impossible to look at Cruise Your Illusion in isolation of The fuckin Men and everything they've done to make SST/noise rawk revivalism not utter shite (Metz etc). Initially it felt like Milk Music were kind of stepping in where The Men were vulnerable (New Moon) but now it's all become clear: this year both bands have made their heritage record, which is to say that 2013 is The Year Of Neil Young's Ghost Aka The Year Make-Pretend Classic Alt Bands Made Even More Explicit The Connection Between Something Like Dino Jr Or Husker Du And Neil Young By Sounding Like After The Goldrush Or Alternatively Zuma Depending On What Angle These Make-Pretend Classic Bands Are Make-Pretending Because The Story Of Rock Says He Invented It All Ages Ago Any Way Though The Classic Bands Weren't Really Classic Because Of Innovation But A Much Needed Return-To-Basics/Everyman Appeal Derived From Young As Like A Response To The Glitz And Glamour And Technicality And Superstardom And Misogyny Etc Of Rock At The Time Or In Sum Our New-ish Band Could Be Your Life Slash Hey Hey My My As Of 2013 Rock And Roll Still Isn't Dead

Glides and moans like Zuma and rocks noisy for a reason- (as cliched as it might be), at least it's something, and man those riffs kill

B+

rocks justifiably

pretty days

YAAAY JUST PICKED UP DELUXE EDTN DBL LP HAVEN'T HEARD YET BUT YAAAY

maybe album of the year (like the last one was)
might listen to it after watching police story 2 and eating toblerone
otherwise it'll have to be at work which is SOO BORING
what's your favourite jackie chan movie?
if you get the deluxe edtn like me you can put the graffiti stickers on yourself so it's kinda like your own special version
it's sorta lopsided even without my clumsy contribution
i really like rush hour 2 and think shaolin wooden men is sort of beautiful
probably write cute description of song content tomorrow at work
and for now:

buy it obvs / try BUT THEN BUY IT

calvin & doug (1998)

I'M SUCH A DORK! Turns out opener Virginia Reel Around the Fountain is supposed to sound like silly teen angst drama with dumb absurd lyrics so Johnson (Beat Happening) and Martsch (Built to Spill) can be like HEY SMITHS FANS SEE WHAT WE'RE DOING HAHA and I didn't even notice, I just thought it was a cool angsty song with shimmery guitars and interweaving monodrone and indie vox and I thought it was the best thing so I guess they got me weeded out as a Smiths fan (!) and sorry bros but backed into a corner I say it's still your best song and I'll stand by the original too even though the thought of Morrissey wailing about busting a nut in a 'virtually dead' prostitute is as weird as the image of him falling out of bed (twice) is funny. Indie as fuck.

B

try / buy

II (2013)

Ya know, it was always The White Album. It wasn't just the percussion, though the percussion mattered then and still does now, it was the pop, the smog, the subversive experimentation (or was it subversive pop?), the sounds sounding different every time and then disappearing into the haze. I didn't realize then, though it's clear now, that the self-titled record's songs retained a sense of physicality in spite of this, and for all its proficiency in the field of awesome/kooky/indie lo-fi psych revivalism, it was an experiment. A good one, but an experiment nonetheless.

II's all there 'cause Nielson doesn't sound like he's all there. That was the magic of The White Album- the mix of sleepy nostalgia and discomfort in its haze. I don't know if I missed it back then, but every time I listen to II, I begin to worry about dude. Like good lo-fi and downer pop bros, his songs are all half a minute too long where it counts, and his album's about 10 too vague where it matters. It's all fleeting enough to drift by, but it's repetitious enough to control attention. Disembodied, his sounds float around like a dream while his words contrarily evoke sleepless nights worrying about death and loneliness (it's not the Stones, it's Yer Blues). [warning] Well done, but surely that's not the reason people got excited about a followup in the first place [warning]. Contrary, dizzy, non-physical (that is, not real), and relatably so. Whether he knows it or not, the music keeps telling us, and the music's right, I think: it's all in your head.

A

flac / buy / stream

Acetone - If You Only Knew (1995)

A sophisticated appreciation of just-off-harmonies and quietness learned from their time slowcore-ing country songs on I Guess I Would distinguishes If You Only Knew from Acetone's first album, Cindy. Cindy's trick was a mocking spontaneity and feigned indifference, the conceptual bummer underpinning the words which did give a fuck. The trick here isn't so much a trick, but genuine intimacy. In fact, by this stage they've achieved all they wanted to and have to actively rock n roll things up every now and again to convince us they're alright

(They weren't (RIP))

A

buy  / v0

Piano Magic - Low Birth Weight (1999)

Not just an impressive link between the lush-moody gothiness of the 80s and sharp-moody altiness of the 90s, Low Birth Weight frequently brings to mind both The xx's feely minimalism and Michael Cashmore's chilling pastoral fragility as Nature and Organisation. The title makes me think of sick babies, and the cover creeps me out and makes me happy all at once.

B-

stream / -

Dolly Mixture - Demonstration Tapes (1983)

Twee pop is either the greatest or the worst depending on what twee pop you're hearing. Dolly Mixture make me wonder why I don't listen to twee pop every day

A



v0

Fade

Who needs a revolution any way? A record of dualities- fragilities and motoriks, births and deaths, acceptances and resistances, passions and detachedness, tears and joys. Not as frantic as they were, nor as dusty as they became, it's floatier, heavier, and more straightforward than anyone expected, its fans pointing out its subtleties, its critics calling it 'good' and that's all. My favourite is the first track 'cause it's all 'how many dualities can we fit into a song'- it's called Ohm which is electrical resistance, but as a homophone brings to mind the sacred om chanted by the river in Hesse's Siddhartha, the former being resistance, the latter being constant flow, the song ending in the victory of distortion (the electric), chaos, and impermanence. A dislocation occurs in the language of the song as the recurring sign of resisting the flow seems more and more at odds with the music's direction (the victory of distortion, chaos, impermanence), until it becomes clear that the band have either created an ironic mantra (they couldn't sound happier doing the opposite of resisting), or have painted the image of trying and failing to rise above the inevitability of time passing.

Either way it's an existential bummer, but in my opinion it's also one of the band's better records (for all their celebrated frantic-ness, the dustiness employed for equilibrium or record geek geekiness always bored me). C'mon 2013, let's do more of this!

B

buy / stream / -

The Garbage and the Flowers - Stoned Rehearsal

Thanks person who suggested this when I posted Silvery Branches! Legit fuckups and conversations (broken strings (it's a rehearsal after all, and a stoned one too)), loose lo-fi, with something I'm not used to in NZ noisy indie lo-fi, though it's all undercut by that d.i.y./don't-give-a-fuck attitude, and that's happy sounding chords, happy enough sounding songs, and tangible melodies/appeal. So often records of its kind contain a familiar overarching narrative of (geographical, cultural, historical, personal) isolation and existential dread, but with Stoned Rehearsal the don't-give-a-fuck attitude extends to such angst, producing a profound indifference to anything other than spontaneity, rehearsing stoned with one's dogs (weird), broken strings and all. Awesome

A-

sample

then buy it here or here (can't remember which one I got it from, the first one, I think)

Do Make Say Think - & Yet & Yet (2002)

post-rock is silly and the name do make say think is silly and the title & yet & yet is sillier than both of those things, and after a while of trying to understand post-rock and pinpoint what makes one thing likable and another thing bland, years ago i concluded that it must be bro-core builds a la godspeed but mono fucked all that up when i thought hey i can see where this one's going and the next one and the next one my god i hope this stops soon and so resorted to tortoise who advocated a movement from predictable bro-core crescendos and contrived catharsis into dusty high-brow steve reich and faust references, but that solution's boring, dusty, and the whole thing just confuses me. so what makes do make say think's 10 year old silly titled & yet & yet work or appeal all these years later and in spite of the world's relative dissatisfaction with post-rock outside of this year's swans and godspeed releases which'll likely be in everyone's 1-5 spots when it comes to ranking this year's bestest albums, and in spite of do make say think's tortoise-ish quietness and reserved retro experimentation standing in direct opposition to swans' and godspeed's blood-sweat-tear-hnggghh-brotharsis masculinity and mood-core drone-masochism, maybe those ones'll kill post-rock and maybe this one's a relic of that strange time in indie rock where people wanted casual escapism via the occasional transcendent outro and otherwise the mimicry of older artistic trends the listener can't've been around for- a return to the utopian naivete of modernism, or the contemporary listener's rose-n-dust-tinted vision thereof, removed of purpose, context, guts- dusty like tortoise, experimental like the early 70s (ha), jazzy like tortoise, safe like the rose tint, dusty like the rose tint, dusty like the 70s, dusty like jazz or the contemporary listener's vision thereof, dusty, just dusty. a dusty relic of a time where for some reason a record needed to be dusty- a musical encyclopedia, or a naively faux-nostalgic, creepily vacuous denial of anything post-1980.

C

v0

Acetone - I Guess I Would (1995)

My new favourite downers' covers EP. With Cindy I thought I had them all figured out- casually fucked up like Neil Young but without the frantic transcendence, noise rockers without the ideological guts, Chilton's passionate indifference without the need to fully debase their own songs, Low's icy detachment but still warm and fuzzy, or whatever, and so on, and looking at that I think Wilco but they're not Wilco and they're nothing like Wilco on Cindy, but on I Guess I Would they sorta are 'cause you get the above and country but it's not, too, I don't know where I'm going, I just love it, I really do, from the lucid proto-late-era-Earth instrumental opener to the scuzzy 11 minute closer, I just really love it all

A

here

Acetone - Cindy (1993)

Rocks so casually you can hardly handle it- Come On features disembodied vocals and low-singing reminiscent of Low, and the guitars wind and whine but they're bloated and live sounding, heavy and interesting because dude played softly and carelessly a little bit close to his amp rather than working anything experimental into his technique or tunings. That loose garage aesthetic you get from downers like Neil Young blasting your ears away 'cause they don't wanna bend down and lose some distortion, and hey, they'll rock in the process any way, or that youthful spontaneity which encourages them to steal from Isaac Hayes' Walk on By or the fucking Grease soundtrack

A-

here

Jon Auer - Songs From the Year of Our Demise (2006)

Downer Posies meets Elliot Smith-ish singer-songwriter fragility- pulls some of the power from his pop, compromising with a focus on introspection

B

vbr

(2001)

Something pleasant about an older, more fulfilled Frank Black chilling and writing straightforward but still spontaneous and weird alt country with a real tight band

A-

v0

The Posies - Frosting on the Beater (1993)

The band who famously or infamously joined Alex Chilton to sloppily/sexily/alt-ily redo Big Star songs more frequently associated with pop trapped in an airtight faux-nostalgia than being open to sloppiness, sexiness, and modern day alternative rock. I got a kick from the outcome of this precious bubble bursting and noise and addiction and genuine affections spilling forth so wondered what those who assisted Chilton sounded like without Chilton. It's what you'd expect but with more attention paid to getting the power pop vocals perfect- this one's Big Star, this one's Sunny Day Real Estate, and this one's Foo Fighters. That sloppy, sexy, alt-y mix of perfect pop and noisy guitars

A-

here

(2002)

I mean, c'mon

A+

here