Things We Like: Slowdive, “Slowdive”

Slowdive’s self-titled “comeback” record was floating around my Spotify playlists last year and it was a nice little reminder of a band I enjoyed in my earlier years. While they weren’t my favorite shoegaze band way back when – that honor goes to Lush – they were a reliable go-to for some solid atmospheric guitar tunes. 

But the couple of songs I heard nearly 25 years later wouldn’t leave my head. Select melodies drifted back and forth and I kept coming back for more. A taste here, a taste there. The songs were good, but I had no idea how irresistibly good until I let the whole album run through – at full blast. Then I finally got a copy. It’s barely left the turntable since.

Woozy and atmospheric, tranquil and sometimes rocking, Slowdive is perfect for these long, damp, gray winter days that seem to have settled in. All the sounds – angelic vocals and chiming guitars among them – congeal in a beautiful haze that’s hard to navigate. It doesn’t really matter, though, for the melodies, textures, and pure emotion are enough to push you through. Besides, sometimes it’s best to just surrender and let the sounds wash over. You know, just numb out and stare at the sky for a while.

Again, they weren’t at the top of my list, but Slowdive could seriously put them over the top in a retroactive best-of. Why? Because the record continues to deliver song after song, time after time. And it definitely gets better with age. As with most great records, there are certain moments that jump out immediately, while other more elusive sounds don’t reveal themselves until that fifth, sixth, seventh listen – when you really start digging in. Slowdive is teeming with these tiny little jewels and you’ll be rewarded handsomely for taking the taking time to settle in and discover them.

Anyway, give me a nudge in April to see if any other record has replaced this slab of excellence on our turntable. At this point, I’m not confident anything possibly could. 

Things We Like: Keluar, “Panguna”

On Panguna, Keluar deliver an inspired combination of the exotic exuberance of 80’s synth-pop and classic, hard-edged EBM. But unlike many of the recent retro-electro throwbacks, this one sounds exotic, somewhat mysterious, a little bit dangerous, and – dare I say – fun. 

Keluar manages to capture the mysterious, globe-trotting themes of so many 80’s synth-pop hits. Here, I’m thinking specifically of Duran Duran. The tracks carry the torch of classics like ““Rio”, “Hungry Like the Wolf” or “Wild Boys” to foreign lands and destinations unknown. And the lyrics pair nicely with the sultry, emotive delivery of vocalist Zoe Zanias.

But where the choruses on those 80’s hits can veer straight into middle-of-the-road, crowd-pleasing purgatory, Keluar instead ground the songs securely in the darker BPMs of classic electronic body music like Front 242 or BiGod 20. Really, the tracks on Panguna could best be summed up as “Wild Boys” meets “Headhunter” meets “The Bog”. Darker Duran Duran or lighter Front 242. No other description necessary, really.     

Even as a fan of so much new music these days, rarely does a track excite and surprise as much as the title track. Everything here is interesting, complex, fresh and mysterious. When I put this on, I’m reminded of that rush of excitement you’d get when the DJ would put on an epic synth 12” to crush the dancefloor. One of those rare tracks that would get everyone moving, not just the electroheads.  

An added bonus, here, is the addition of a Hacker remix of the title track. It’s an outright banger that delivers by smoothing things out with a roiling synth line and taut, crisp beats that crack like whip.

They tried to tame you, looks like they’ll try again.

Things We Like: Bing & Ruth, “No Home of the Mind”

Bing & Ruth, the project of New York-via-Kansas composer David Moore, delivers ambient compositions centered on piano; instrumental pieces that manifest themselves in sounds that coalesce and slowly swarm and overwhelm. Ethereal compositions like “Starwood Choker” wash over in waves, swelling into a near-droning white noise that leaves you disoriented and kind of numb. These moments mostly reach a point where you have no choice but to sit back, surrender and find solace in your own head. Yet in an instant, Moore can pull out the tide and leave you beached amid the white space of a spare composition like “To All It.” Either way, it’s a good place to be. The world around us can be needlessly loud, nagging and overbearing. Retreating into the embrace of something warm and calm and ambiguous is often necessary to simply carry on. Moore carves out the space and conditions perfect for contemplation, inviting you in to contribute your own thoughts and feelings.

For us, No Home of the Mind is the perfect soundtrack to a calm, cold, quiet winter walk in the woods. In my mind, the day is still and the sun has nearly set. It’s not yet twilight, but will be soon. The cold air numbs your face and it’s getting hard to see, but the scene is so peaceful that you can’t yet bear to break the spell. Interestingly, I’m reminded of the painting February by William Trost Richards, a work in the collection of the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. To my eyes, it perfectly captures the atmosphere of the album, for much like a moment connecting with nature, this is a soundtrack that revels in simplicity and beauty and rewards you for paying attention and just being there.

Brilliant Day!

A long overdue “thank you” for a stellar Cherokee Heights Arts Festival 2019! I got to spend the day with this lovely lady and a steady stream of art lovers that didn’t let up all day long. We had our best year yet! The planning committee and roadies did a superb job of making this a seamless and memorable experience (as always). Great music, food, drinks, and crowds with the most artists participating in fest history! We’re excited to see the momentum and enthusiasm for CHAF continue to grow while being a part of it all. We’ll see you there next year!

30 Years Ago Tonight

Seriously, it wasn’t until we actually got into the Philadelphia Spectrum and passed a merch booth – eyeballing Robert Smith’s pouting, powdered face glowing from an enormous black t-shirt that I realized I was attending my first rock show. Mind you, this was after we parked in one of the vast, darkened lots and passed endless groups of sullen young adults tailgating on our way in. This was even after we had handed over our tickets at entry. I was still flummoxed as to why we were going to a sporting event for my birthday. Ice hockey was pretty cool, but not cool enough to go to on a school night.    

30 years ago tonight, my mom surprised me with a birthday gift I’ll never forget: she took my sister and me to see The Cure, my favorite band at the time, perform live. It was the tail-end of the Prayer Tour, the band supporting the now-classic and personal-favorite, Disintegration. You won’t find September 21 on the back of the tour t-shirt – only the first Philly date, August 23 is listed – but I have the ticket stub to prove it happened. The date appeared to be tacked on towards the tour’s end, presumably “by popular demand”.

Everything about the show blew my soon-to-be-12-year-old mind: they played Disintegration in its entirety (though not in running order), they played scores of old favorites, it was loud, there was a stage set-up and lights, and the kids in the crowd wore such cool clothes. I discovered a newfound appreciation for deep cuts that still, to this day, remind me of that night: “Last Dance”, “Prayers for Rain”, and “The Same Deep Water as You” among them. The epic, reverberating bassline of “Closedown” was a highlight that’s still etched into my brain. Another favorite was a 20-minute version of “A Forest” that ebbed and flowed on Smith’s endless guitar solo, morphing from blistering noise to delicate strumming for, like, 15 whole minutes (see a shorter version from 1992 here).

According to setlist.fm, the band played “The Perfect Girl”, a rather poppy deep cut from the Kiss Me album. I don’t remember that at all. I also recall that they played “Kyoto Song”, but it’s not listed as such. I’m probably wrong on both counts. Funny how some memories can be clear as day and other details just drift away.

Love and Rockets opened the tour, but not on this night. A few dates even included third act Pixies as additional support – deep in their Doolittle prime (all three bands toured the States at that time, joining up for major outdoor shows at venues like Giants Stadium in New Jersey). No matter, I was just happy to be there.

Mom let us sleep in the next day and play hooky from school. She even took us to Repo Records, our favorite record store – then still in Wayne, by the R5 station – so we could load up on even more Cure records. She was now all-in.

My concert-going career could’ve started and ended that night. It was that good.

If you’re at all as nostalgic as I am, you can relive the magic here. Happy Birthday to me!

Summer Tunes: Ride, “Charm Assault”

Ride: Then and Now

It’s summer. Time to switch over to some indie, dream pop, shoegaze and/or britpop. Time for some sun, fun, road trips and popsicle sticks (and/or other summertime clichés). Seriously, though, we’re ready for some easy, breezy tunes. Right now I’m thinking Ride – specifically the tune “Charm Assault” – from their 2017 comeback album, Weather Diaries. The whole record is fantastic – and true to their 1990s form – but for me, right now, this tune is all I need. It’s cathartic, atmospheric retro pop. Supposedly, the lyrics have something to do with Brexit, but I hardly ever pay attention to the words. Well, sometimes. Occasionally. Elizabeth does, but I tend to focus more on melody and mood and less on message. But we can discuss that later.

So while we wait for their upcoming LP, This Is Not a Safe Place, fire up “Charm Assault”, the sunny and melancholy “Cali” or the cooler, overcast “Lannoy Point” to brighten your summer day.

 

Things We Like: Lead Into Gold, “The Sun Behind the Sun”

In late 2015, Lead Into Gold appeared for a one-off performance at Cold Waves in Chicago, arriving some 25 years after the last known chapter of this much-loved yet seldom-seen project had been sent out into the world. Lead Into Gold – the solo project of Paul Barker – was active for roughly three years around 1988, quietly delivering a string of releases while Ministry – his main project at the time – was hitting its creative peak. 

This was the heyday of Chicago Industrial, a moment when Wax Trax! Records unwittingly manufactured a scene by unleashing instant classics from Front 242, My Life With the Thrill Kill Kult, Front Line Assembly and KMFDM. Yet the perceived figureheads of the scene were Ministry main-man Al Jourgensen and co-conspirator Barker, partners whose creative output at the time was mind bogglingly vast and consistently good.

While Ministry was delivering pivotal albums over on a major label – genre-defining bombshells like The Land of Rape and Honey and Psalm 69 – the duo was delivering a nonstop barrage of singles, EPs and full-length LPs user guises like Pailhead, Lard and Revolting Cocks. One after another after another the hits just kept coming. And then even more by Acid Horse, PTP, and 1000 Homo DJs. Mostly released on Wax Trax! and mostly collaborations with like-minded – and now-legendary – scene figures like Ian MacKaye, Jello Biafra, Ogre, Trent Reznor, Richard 23, Luc Van Acker and Cabaret Voltaire. Seemingly every season a new release was dispatched to ravage the dancefloor.     

Yet lost in the maelstrom of pummeling bpms and dancefloor destruction was Lead Into Gold. Here, Barker carved out a place all to himself, one free of the chaos of collaboration; a place where a more introspective and even-tempered voice could emerge. Barker seemed interested in the slow burn; delivering a languid, cinematic take on music. Deeper lyrical themes emerged, supported by an unusual set of samples that seemed to favor ancient films and brass. “Faster Than Light” even became a minor hit.

So here it was, late 2015 with one brief performance of some cult favorites by a scene legend. Beyond the fun of a one-night nostalgia trip, what was the point? Did it still matter? The songs still seemed to have legs. The ones chosen for that night, at least. So what to make of it? Was there a future? Did there need to be?

In 2017, a new two-song 12” arrived. And in 2018 we were rewarded with a proper full-length album of all-new material, The Sun Behind the Sun. 

Judging by the results on these two releases, we would have to say emphatically say, “Yes. Yes, there needs to be.”

Sometimes the scene needs to be shaken up and who better to do the shaking than a scene veteran with just enough distance to offer some much-needed perspective. Songwriting chops, superb musicianship and years of production expertise don’t hurt either. It’s worth noting that Barker’s bass was a crucial component to so many Ministry et. al. classics. His parts on “So What”, “Golden Dawn” and Pailhead’s “Anthem” – a few personal favorites – held things down with a dark, menacing groove worthy of that press-concocted cliché: “industrial disco”.

But we digress.

The Sun Behind the Sun manages to do the impossible. It defies the comeback album trap by simultaneously recapturing the essence of a classic sound while bringing new ideas to the table. No easy feat. So often the comeback album panders to only one of these two traits – sounding exactly like the old stuff or nothing like the old stuff – with a result that reeks of desperation and basically bums everyone out. But The Sun Behind the Sun balances both old and new perfectly.

Barker hits all the familiar sweet spots: the tension; the creeping pace; the samples and brass; the warbling, wheezing, weirdo vocals. But rather than just replay the highlight reel, he digs deep to mine new sounds and improve on the production – which on those late 20th century releases tended to sound a little claustrophobic.

It’s familiar yet refreshing. It welcomes us in, makes us feel at home but still nudges us off our seats and out of our comfort zone. 

Here are a few of our favorite moments:

“To the Throat”
Ominous. Throbbing. Heavy. Dense. There’s so much going on that the song gets perilously close to buckling under the weight of its own creation. It averts disaster by mustering just enough momentum to push itself up and out, clawing it’s way forward on a bed of throbbing electronics and the purposeful drumming of fellow Blackouts/Ministry alum Bill Rieflin (check out his drumming on the aforementioned “Anthem”). It’s a treat to hear Rieflin join Barker on this epic track. An apt soundtrack to Sisyphus rolling that boulder up that hill.

“X0000”
This is the sound of a machine destroying itself. The song disintegrates into a crumble of musique concrète tinkering and white space, only to gather just enough oxygen to reignite the ember and press on with a tiny, smoldering glimmer of light.

“We’ll Take Tomorrow” 
The album’s would-be hit single. Here’s Barker rallying the troops and storming the gates.

“Sweet Caress”
Those drums! 

“The Sun Behind the Sun”
All the best elements of the previous seven tracks converge in a fitting conclusion: drama, grit, dread, catharsis and hope all set to a stunning soundtrack built from the classic Lead Into Gold sounds: complex percussion, steady bass and bizarre sampling. It’s a seemingly impenetrable wall of stormy gray that suddenly breaks to reveal a bright, glimmering sunset. A fitting end to thoroughly exhausting journey.

So, sure, The Sun Behind the Sun is a tough slog and we’re totally spent. But, yeah, it was totally worth it. And worth the wait.

Things We Like: Drab Majesty, “The Demonstration”

Dreamy and introspective. That’s the easy answer. Some might say “dark”. Perhaps a bit. But that’s an overly simplistic and, frankly, cynical take. It could be said Drab Majesty conjures up a 4AD aura about things with hints of vintage Clan of Xymox or Cocteau Twins in both sound and style. Really, though, there are many influences – dream pop, shoegaze and classic goth among them – that tease their way into the songs. But Deb DeMure, the androgynous alter-ego of L.A.-based musician Andrew Clinco, comes calling with more than just a checklist of references.

On their second proper album, The Demonstration, Drab Majesty transcends the confines of strict style and the niche tastes of a precious few and push out into the realm of 80’s new wave and pop. The songs are catchy and irresistible and satisfyingly accessible while managing to still shimmer and haunt and hover in the corner – a perfect mix of light and dark that invites obsessive listening. Many of these songs wouldn’t seem out of place on mainstream radio of the era. The grand, euphoric “Cold Souls” comes to mind as does “39 By Design”, their languid meditation on the Heaven’s Gate cult – both tracks aptly released in advance of the album like incantations masking as pop singles.

And while there’s a lot to love about The Demonstration, DeMure’s guitar playing could be the true star. Her chiming guitar lines are captivating as they meander around and hang in the air. They lure you in, slow things down and let the white space between notes wrap you in a woozy, warm embrace. “Not Just a Name” and “Forget Tomorrow” conjure up this atmosphere perfectly, the latter playing up the 80’s-era drum machines to near-absurd levels of intensity.

But grandiose gestures are what Drab Majesty is all about. Their image and influences spill out super-saturated, dime-store drama in a kaleidoscope of colors, textures and references. They present an exquisite corpse tangled with so many conflicting cultural touch points – religious pageantry, the occult, KISS Army, Warhol wigs, science fiction, Geisha girl, Members Only – that it’s hard not to fall under their spell (or perhaps surrender to the sheer weight of their presentation) and just follow along. But it all works. Style and sound are a perfect match – light and dark, sweet and sour, high and low – that keeps you off balance and craving more.

After letting this one brood on the turntable for the better part of a month (on glorious marbled blue vinyl and on constant repeat), The Demonstration presents a complete, confident and fully realized vision. Also, the album’s production – care of Telaphon Tel Aviv’s Joshua Eustis – is cleaner and less claustrophobic than its predecessor, Careless (itself a clear statement of purpose with its fair share of great songs).

But The Demonstration is the complete package. It’s that same complex and compelling vision but pushed through with focus and clarity, delivering great songs with production to match.

Winter Tunes: Project Pitchfork, “Terra Incognita”

Fresh air, twinkling white lights on snow-covered branches, stars in the sky. Glassy synths shimmer like icy crystal as ghostly choral samples loop in the background. A perfect soundtrack for a cold winter’s night – with a little emotion added to melt your cold, cold heart.

Things We Like: “Wait in the Car”

Colors! Layers! Bricks!

The Breeders are back with a new 7″ single and a super-saturated new video by former Vaughn Oliver associate Chris Bigg. Oliver and Bigg are, of course, praised for their cover art and design expertise on so many 4AD projects including every single Pixies release. This video is right up there with the best of them.

You’re going to need to watch this one full-screen.