The Amygdaloids
Theory of My Mind
Knock Out Noise
June 15th 2010
Imaginate by the Amygdaloids
In the Fall of 2005 I walked into Union Hall in Brooklyn to catch a public lecture given by Dr. Joe LeDoux, professor at NYU’s Center for Neural Science. While I have many interests, I always fell short in the sciences, so you can imagine I was quite certain I wouldn’t understand a word of Joe’s discussion of the world of neurons, memory, fear and that little nut shaped region in the brain called the amygdala. But Dr. LeDoux’s lecture was entirely accessible and served as testament to his ability to communicate the business of neuroscience. He has written two books aimed at a general readership, offering not-so-science-savvy folks an avenue towards understanding how their brain works. So one might say that Joe has embraced his role as neuroscience’s public intellectual, ensuring that what goes on in the realm of his discipline does not become too far removed from the questions and curiosities of the people. Think Ted Talks. But LeDoux’s connection to the complex world of neuroscience is not the end of the story. After the lecture, the audience joined LeDoux and a few of his fellow scientist friends up to the first floor of Union Hall where they performed as The Amygdaloids. Right before my eyes I watched these scientists shatter every stereotype concerning the “right brain-left brain” dichotomy. But that was 2005; The Amygdaloids have come a long way since that Union Hall show, releasing their latest record in June called Theory of My Mind.
The two clearest influences that inform The Amygdaloids’ music are the distinct styles of lead guitarist Tyler Volk and LeDoux. Through Volk’s guitar flow accents and power riffs reminiscent of the Monterey Pop Festival of 1967 and the immortal Woodstock that followed two years later. He celebrates the work of Jimi Hendrix and Carlos Santana with his blues laden psychedelia. LeDoux for his part writes songs that project the giest of 60’s dream pop, his songs are products of an ethic that demands good pop be, as Jack Tatum from Wild Nothing said, “catchy but not cheap.” LeDoux is a story teller who, with regard to lyrics and music, is guided by the path set out by the likes of Bob Dylan and The Byrds. The two band members’ influences combine to make a whimsical explication of neuroscientific import embedded in the form and fashion of rock and roll. The lyrics present in Theory of My Mind all hail from the band’s public intellectual ethos. Crime of Passion is a track that explores the question of how much responsibility individuals have when they commit crimes during heightened emotional states. The narrating character of the song croons from a prison cell, recalling the reasons he committed murder and his regrets, singing, “If I could go back, I wouldn’t have killed for you. You’re not worth what I am going through.” Appropriately, to accompany this morose contemplation, Rosanne Cash (daughter of Johnny) sings backup, imbuing the track with a strong sense of sadness.
Itis clear from the various titles of the songs that theme of Theory of My Mind is brain science, with all titles in some way referring to motifs of memory, fear, and individual will. Rhythmically, Tyler Volk’s Automatic Mind is a very creative endeavor that diverges slightly from the overall cohesion of the record. This side item song has a style of its own, mixing the choral melody of 60’s pop with the grim and gothic verse of early 80’s British post-punk. The song succeeds as an unexpected amalgamation.
The CD’s title track, Theory of My Mind explores a psychological question concerning when individuals begin to impute mental states such as desires and beliefs to others, and in turn believe that other individuals impute such mental states to them. In essence, when do we feel empathy; when do we recognize the hopes and fears of others and when do we believe they know or think about ours? Often the answers to these questions have been idealized as representative of our most human emotions, but these emotions are not so easily understood. These questions have diffused over a broad field of disciplines including anthropology, primatology, philosophy, etc. Theory of My Mind is a record that explores these and many other questions. Using the language of love, regret, and all the other entries in the lexicon of rock and roll, Theory of My Mind translates the inquisitiveness of the laboratory onto the forceful expression of the stage.
Wilco
Wilco (The Album)
June 30th 2009
Nonesuch Records
The danger of writing an unabashedly and deliberate self-referential album is immense. It is often the kind of indulgence that eternally condemns and confines many records of its kind to Best Buy bargain bins. Of course there are the great cannon makers who will always be remembered for their eponymous contributions, Led ZeppelinI,II, III, & IV; The Who Sell Out; The Beatles (commonly referred to as The White Album); etc. Wilco goes beyond imprinting their name on a record or a song (in this case both). Blaring their self awareness, they have titled their newest record Wilco (the Album), and the first song on the release Wilco (The Song). But with all this narcissism, the album’s contents are not Xeroxed copies and remakes. The songs are fresh.
The band has moved effortlessly from their post Uncle Tupelo reformations, A.M and Being There, through the nascence of Summerteeth to their seminal Nonesuch release Yankee Hotel Foxtrot and then on to the whammy crazed, Nels Cline addledA Ghost is Born, which won a basket full of awards—partly based on merit and partly based on the cachet accumulated by the release of I Am Trying to Break Your Heart: A Film About Wilco—arguably the greatest music DVD ever released. The film documents the production of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, cementing their status as industry underdog, giving even more attention to their follow up. From there they released a live CD documenting their 2005 show at The Vic in Chicago and later in 2007, Sky Blue Sky—a masterful retreat into neighborhood nostalgia and hometown reflection. With such a varied spectrum of song typology, where was Wilco to go? Their answer was a satirical celebration of themselves. The answer was Wilco (The Album).
Unquestionably the most polished and produced record of Wilco’s catalogue, this newest venture sees the band marinade amongst themselves. They are like an old married couple, the husband and wife begin to look alike. Cline and Tweedy alternate and converge through scales of distortion and wild free form feedback. Pat Sansone plays it straight with his standard roots rock licks that occasionally serve to anchor an otherwise frenetic guitar section. The album is eclectic in itself at times characterized by experimental loops and other times by subdued pop melodies. Leslie Feist duets with Tweedy on the song You and I. The song is soft and easy. It is a perfect midpoint between the pop orchestration the erupts in the beginning, Wilco (The Song), and the record’s conclusion, Everlasting, a song with subtle experimentation and a beautiful outro of wisping loops of Wilco’s signature guitar medley of Tweedy and Cline.
Wilco’s performance at Keyspan Park in Coney Island was worth the $55. I broke my own ethics in buying the tickets. No show should cost this much. When bands price themselves that high, it is a “fuck you” heard loud and clear. But I bought the tickets anyway and solemnly swallowed my convictions knowing that I’d get to see Yo La Tengo open. The predication of Ira Kaplan’s distorted wall of noise to the Tweedy/Cline symposium was phenomenal. It was like seeing my two favorite two cousins. The show lasted three sets. This confused me because I was pretty sure Tweedy was a little put off by the audience. It was tough to tell whether he was mocking the thousands of fans, many of whom were middle aged khaki wearing stiffs with pink ball caps or fraternity brothers sucking down fifths of Southern Comfort and screaming “wooo hooo” like Homer Simpson. At one point he stood in disbelief, shoulders ashrug when the crowd continued to sing Take Me Out to the Ball Game when he jokingly suggested it was his next tune. This underscores Tweedy’s dickishness but it doesn’t explain why he gave us everything that night. No matter the reason, it was a brilliant and a great show. Wilco is/are absolutely classic in every sense.
UPDATE: A reader points out that Nels Cline did not in fact play on A Ghost is Born. This is a misperception on my part stemming from the fact that I saw the group tour for A Ghost is Born and Nels was aboard. Thank you very much John-Paul for the correction. Somehow it is indeed more satisfying that Tweedy plays those solos himself. Though Nels is incredible.
Other Records
A.M.-1995
Being There-1996
Summerteeth-1999
Yankee Hotel Foxtrot-2002
A Ghost Is Born-2004
Kicking Television: Live in Chicago-2005
Sky Blue Sky-2007
01 “Wilco (The Song)”
02 “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart”
03 “Shot in the Arm”
04 “At Least That’s What You Said”
05 “Bull Black Nova”
06 “You Are My Face”
07 “One Wing”
08 “Handshake Drugs”
09 “Deeper Down”
10 “Impossible Germany”
11 “Jesus Etc.”
12 “Sonny Feeling”
13 “I’m Always in Love”
14 “Can’t Stand It”
15 “Hate it Here”
16 “Walken”
17 “I’m the Man Who Loves You”
18 “Hummingbird”
Set 2
19 “Heavy Metal Drummer”
20 “You And I”@
21 “California Stars”*
22 “You Never Know”*
23 “Misunderstood”
24 “Spiders (Kidsmoke)”#
Set 3
25 “The Late Greats”
26 “Hoodoo Voodoo”*
@ w/ Feist on vocals
* w/ Feist and Ed Droste of Grizzly Bear on backup vocals and percussion
# w/ Yo La Tengo
This track from Great Bloomers’ forthcoming full length is well worth a listen. The track is called The Young Ones Slept and the new LP has been named Speak of Trouble. It is being released on Maple Music Recordings, a tip of the hat to Canada’s burgeoning music scene. The recording and production of their new material is much more polished, possibly a sign that they have left behind some of the more Pavement-esque song structures that require a calculated measure of unevenness and low fidelity. Of course we will have to wait and see when the record is released in April. If The Young Ones Slept is any indication, we eagerly anticipate another taste of this indie-pop confection.
Okkervil River
The Stand Ins
September 9th 2008
Jagjaguwar
Okkervil River, along with other musicians gracing our planet, are “Cro-Magnons on drugs with guitars”—so says Will Sheff, frontman behind the band. He also says that hybrid vehicles are yuppie porn, while much of the rest of the developed world simply considers them responsible. Given that I am a rational and emotional decision-maker, why would I choose such a troupe of barely-evolved and underdeveloped rapscallions to tickle my senses? The answer to this question is clear: I had purchased the disk before reading Under the Radar’s interview with Sheff. Since I bothered to buy the thing, I figured I owed it a listen. I enjoyed Black Sheep Boy enough, but the net effect was that I went into The Stand Ins with a pretty negative attitude.
Upon listening to the first real song on the album, Lost Coastlines, I thought my initial instinct was right, driving me deeper and almost irreparably wedged into that negative attitude. For example, one of many catchy lyrics is “Every night finds us rockin’ and rollin’ on waves wild and wide, well we have lost our way, nobody’s gonna say it out out loud” followed by la’s ad nauseum and some sappy horns. That said, this song may be the highlight of the Stand Ins.
The next song, Singer Songwriter, has a nice twangy guitar accompanied by Sheff’s scratchy singing, approaching a drawl at times. Unfortunately, the lyrics are very distracting. The sole purpose seems to be to make a mockery of a musician who has got it all: good fans, good music, a good family. But somehow this is still a bad person who deserves to be made fun of—you get the feeling that Sheff is trying to teach him a lesson. Not only is the subject of the song mocked, but the band also goes on to poke fun at fans wearing brand-name clothing. Sure, that’s funny. But folks, watch out—show up at an Okkervil River show wearing Chanel, and you may find yourself on the receiving end of their wrath, or maybe just the subject of their next album.
Starry Stairs is another song about a musician Pornstar who has seemingly got it made. Unfortunately for this musician, (s)he is unhappy and feels the need to apologize to his/her audience “if you don’t love me, I’m sorry.” I, for one, am happy to accept the apology, though I have a feeling it was facetious, at best (This song does boast a great lyric, “I’m alive, but a different kind of alive” which reminds me of my favorite line from Kafka’s Metamorphosis). Something had happened here: I enjoyed the pop sentiment created on The Stage Names, as it was often accompanied by errant and sometimes twangy instrumentation, cheesy oooohs, and a great Sheff yell here and there. Somehow this effect was not achieved on the Stand Ins.
In general, this album is well-made with music of an out-of-time and out-of-place style, and lyrics that make you want to commit suicide—and to no fault of your own. Find yourself singing along to the 50’s prom style song Pop Lie (the only things missing are a Pompadour hair style and the movie That Thing You Do), and you’ll get chided for being a fake and a liar. This is where you realize that the entire album is trying to teach not only the caricatures in the songs, but also you and the whole world a lesson. This theme goes hand-in-hand with the saccharine qualities of the music- sweet, but devoid of calories. The album appears to be a treatise on nothing. Maybe not nothing—on things that “bother” Sheff like designer brand clothing and successful musicians. I don’t suppose we’ll be seeing sweatshop labor topping his list any time soon.
Midwest Dilemma
Timelines & Tragedies
May 20th 2008
Self Released
Maybe, just maybe, the cooption of music that has largely flown under the radar for the better part of the last decade by soulless corporations can be avoided. The Billboard oriented marketing machines are systematically being dispossessed of their tastemaking power. Major labels, when they can acquire them, harvest artists who have already established a national following from their independent releases. Fortunately for independent artists, a major label contract is no longer seen as always the optimal circumstance for national exposure, sustained industry influence, and market representation. This enervation of the gate keepers has fostered resistance against artistic compromise in nearly all sectors of the music industry. It is evidenced by the emergence of successfully branded indie labels such as Kill Rockstars, Matador, Jagjaguwar, and Saddle Creek; it is evidenced by the successful dislocation of goliath music makers such Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails from their respective and restrictive major label bonds; it is even evidenced by interlabel dealings such as Wilco’s refusal to accommodate Reprise’s critical observations of their seminal release Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, which led to their auspicious migration to Nonesuch, a label that ironically along with Reprise are both subsidiaries of the major conglomerate Warner Bros. Records.
Through the democratizing power of the internet, and an increasingly ability for local communities of artists to obtain national exposure, we are beginning to see a number of bands release music independent of any label at all. They are the “self-released” categories of burgeoning blogs everywhere (I love me). Even though their trajectory might lead many bands to any number of market deals, their injection into large scale networks of critical discourse through modest industry connections has clearly signal a shift in the fundamental paradigm of artist ascendancy, and this change it seems will be long lasting and far reaching.
From Omaha, Nebraska Midwest Dilemma has caught my attention with their densely organic and texturally rich debut Timelines & Tragedies. While consisting of as much as 10 core members, Midwest Dilemma recorded in bloom with 23 musicians and vocalists, an indication of the ambitious and highly masterful orchestration of the project. As their name implies Midwest Dilemma’s endeavor is steeped in folksy Americana. It not only seeks to lyrically reconstruct the narrative of songwriter Justin Lamoureux’s family as they traveled from Montreal, Canada to Nebraska in the 19th century, but it also serves to define a musical tradition whose flair and flavor has definite regional roots. The Midwest is an incredibly rich landscape that is colored by the lived experiences of both its colonized and marginalized pre-European inhabitants and the various pioneers and traders that eventually came to form the towns and cities that today spot the vast plains, prairies, and bluffs from Wyoming to Ohio. The resulting constructed music culture is as distinct as the Southern-Gothic genre explored by artists like Iron & Wine and Phosphorescent.
Timelines & Tragedies is a string heavy odyssey that incorporates woodwinds and orchestral percussion to accentuate its epic recollection of the Lamoureux family’s journey. Using stories passed from generation to generation through old letters and family folklore, Lamouroux and company have produced an ethnographic testimonial. The record is more than episodic; it is a beautiful and memorizing patchwork of individual characters that in their juxtaposition recount a shared history of the Midwest. The themes, while specifically engrossed in a particular family’s past, speak as much about how we reflect on all stories of exodus. Timelines & Tragedies does an extraordinary job of telling the immigrant’s story, one that distills the shared experience of severed roots and the dismembering and intimidating shift out of the safe boundaries of home into an uncertain future. Each song moves through time toward the present, allowing for each successive generation to contextualize current predicaments with the preceding memory of past struggle. Timelines & Tragedies is a genealogy; it is thick, articulate, and captivating.
As far as Midwest Dilemma’s place in establishing their own relevance beyond the role storytellers, I applaud their emergence as a sign of the times. With their impending tour toward New York City this fall, I look forward to catching a show. I often wonder when this flood of independence might subside, leaving only the most contrived and commercially viable bands to suffer the dictates of the Billboard hierarchy. Midwest Dilemma gives me hope that we have entered a new age of production, one that like the band’s own inspiration, relies on local communities and personal relationships to direct ascendancy. Timelines & Tragedies is a debut produced with extraordinary talent and ambition, the limits of which may only be bound by the degree of Midwest Dilemma’s interest in telling their story.
Tour
10/17 – Omaha, NE @ PS Collective – 10pm
10/18– Ames, IA @ Ames Progressive Office – 7pm
10/19 – Sheboygan, WI @ Paradigm – 8pm
10/20 – Louisville, KY @ The Space at 6th and Oak – 8pm
10/22 – Muncie, IN @ Village Green Records – 7pm
10/23 – Philadelphia, PA @ Green Line Café – 7pm
10/24 – New York, NY @ Café Vivaldi – 8pm
10/25 – Biddeford, ME @ Hogfarm Studios – 8pm
10/26 – Cambridge (Boston), MA @ Lily Pad – 7pm
10/27 – New York, NY @ The Living Room – 7pm
10/28 – Hamden, CT @ The Space – 8pm
10/29 – Montpelier, VT @ Langdon Street Café – 8pm
10/30 – Buffalo, NY @ Bon Vivant – 8pm
10/31 – Cleveland, OH @ Barking Spider Tavern – 8pm
11/1 – Chicago, IL @ Red Line Tap – 8pm
11/2 – Des Moines, IA @ Vaudeville Mews – 10pm
Oh My God
Fools Want Noise
October 14th 2008
Split Red Records
Oh My God- Facewash
Oh My God- Houston
While I have loved many bands over the years, there have only been few that I really give a shit about. Would you believe it, Chicago’s Oh My God is one of them. I first met Bish, Ig, and Billy many, many years ago when they played Duffy’s Tavern back in Nebraska. I had seen them a few times prior and was very impressed with their performance. My sister also happened to be in town from Chicago and I wanted to take her to a great show at my favorite dingy bar. They did not disappoint.
Rumors circulated that there would be an afterhours party with the band. Memory from that night being hazy, I can’t exactly remember how I scored the address, but I later found myself with my sister and a friend parked in a gravel lot outside a big house in the country. There didn’t seem to be anyone around and our first instinct was to scram, but the van was there and I was determined to meet these freakishly performative people. I don’t remember much about the night save the phrase “flying fish farm”, a bottle of Makers Mark, absolutely delicious vegan lasagna, Ig’s massive hair, and the extremely kind company of Ig and Billy as we sat around a living room table discussing who knows what. My sister, my friend, and I were thrilled to have imposed on their late night festivity.
Later, when booking a show at a venue in Lincoln named Knickerbockers, I learned that Oh My God was on tour again and that my band was to open for them. This had my gut in knots. There was certainly no way we were going to compare. But we suffered through it, knowing what was to take place on the same stage only moments after our breakdown. It was a blissful evening, regardless of the sad circumstance of less than capacity attendance. Eventually I moved to Chicago where I saw them at the Double Door for their tour’s homecoming. This time I brought my cousin and a few friends. They were equally impressed with the band’s visceral performance.
Oh My God is aggressively eccentric. You haven’t ever seen a scissor kick until you’ve seen Billy fling his body around the stage. To give you any idea of their antics, Billy often begins shows dressed as a clown or plays the show in a kimono, or a clown in a kimono. As the show progresses he loses an article of clothing here and there, until he ends up in his skivvies, sweat run makeup, and a white tee-shirt that has some handwritten social critique such as “legalize prostitution” printed across the chest.
I always liked Oh My God’s combination of instruments. Their songs are structured around the drums, bass, and organ. The drums are often schizophrenic, the bass is distorted and fuzzed to excess, and the organ is tweaked beyond recognition. Since those days in Chicago and Nebraska, they have added guitar to the amalgamation. Tragically, while on the road in Ohio during a recent tour in 2007, a car collided with their van head on. Every member received terrible injuries. Billy shattered a kneecap, cracked a few vertebrae, and broke three ribs. Bish broke his left wrist and Ig broke his right. Matt, playing guitar on tour, broke his tibia, nose, and thumb. To be honest, I thought the band was through. It is extremely difficult to tour year in and out, record after record, only to be forced to postpone an upcoming record release and take a year off for physical therapy, psychologically to start again. I can only imagine the difficulties they encountered. I wished them the best in a dire situation.
So imagine my surprise when Frederick Foxtrott received a copy of their new record for review. The triumph of this band only underscores their tenacity and energy. While I have always said that Oh My God’s live show never quite translates onto plastic, their newest effort Fools Want Noise comes closest to capturing the frenetic display on stage, although I will always have a place in my heart for Interrogations & Confessions. New to the band are drummer Dathan DeVore and guitarist Anthony Gravino. While I have not witnessed Oh My God play in their current incarnation, I assume they will have all the excess that my memory reports.
Fools Want Noise continues Oh My God’s irreverent tradition. Billy’s voice is steeped in rhythm and blues, imbuing the rugged bass lines and industrial organ with hooks and catchy phrases that snare even the most indifferent of listeners. The melodies were forged in a popcentric factory. Oh My God is a candy coated cog. Though this combination makes for an unlikely surfacing into the mainstream, make no mistake, Fools Want Noise is infectious. Oh My God is an indulgent, intense and socially seditious band.
Every track on this record attracts the listener as much as it challenges them. Billy exudes a libertine persona that shuns social standards with confrontational words. They don’t keep safe any particular agenda; they prescribe an abandonment of all extremes, all the while shanking the status quo. Even in some of their contradiction the band seeks beauty. Billy’s soliciting eyebrows and cocky form sing songs about failure, vulnerability, and tragic love. Oh My God’s words are provocative in that they judge against judgment, while at the same time projecting themselves as iconoclasts seeking to deliberately break from the cagey grip of modern expectations. This allows some of the more saccharine elements of Oh My God’s music to be enjoyed in an abnormal context instead from the inhibiting and trite perspective of the masses.
Other Music
Oh My God EP- 2000
Action!- 2002
Interrogations & Confessions- 2003
You’re Too Straight to Love Me- 2004
Tour
Sept 18, 2008 Founders Brewery Grand Rapids, MI
Sept 19, 2008 The Loading Dock Traverse City, MI
Sept 20, 2008 DIY Street Fair Ferndale, MI
Sept 20, 2008 The Belmont Hamtramck, MI
Sept 25, 2008 Midpoint Music Cincinnati, OH
Sept 26, 2008 (Scene) Metrospace Lansing, MI
Sept 26, 2008 Mac’s Bar Lansing, MI
Sept 27, 2008 Beauty & the Beat Flint, MI
Sept 28, 2008 Allegheny College Meadville, PA
Sept 29, 2008 Smog @ Bard Annondale On Hudson, NY
Sept 30, 2008 Daniel Street Club Milford, CT
Oct 01, 2008 Pianos York, NY
Oct 02, 2008 Mohawk Place Buffalo, NY
Oct 03, 2008 Casa Cantina Athens, OH
Oct 04, 2008 Howard’s Club H Bowling Green, OH
Oct 10, 2008 Doug’s Rockhouse Aurora, IL
Oct 11, 2008 Subterranean Chicago, IL
Oct 16, 2008 The House Dekalb, IL
Oct 17, 2008 Triple Rock Minneapolis, MN
Oct 18, 2008 Cactus Club Milwaukee, WI
Oct 23, 2008 Cowboy Monkey Champaign, IL
Oct 24, 2008 Bluebird St. Louis, MO
Oct 25, 2008 Record Bar Kansas City, MO
Oct 26, 2008 Duffy’s Lincoln, NE
Oct 27, TBA Pittsburg, KS
Oct 28, 2008 Hailey’s Denton, TX
Oct 29, 2008 Beerland Austin, TX
Oct 30, 2008 TBA Paso, TX
Oct 31, 2008 Hotel Congress Tucson, AZ
Nov 01, 2008 Modified Arts Phoenix, AZ
Nov 02, 2008 The Mint Los Angeles, CA
Nov 03, 2008 Bottom of the Hill San Francisco, CA
Nov 05, 2008 TBA Rapid City, SD
Nov 06, 2008 Nutty’s North Sioux Falls, SD
Nov 07, 2008 Maya Jane’s Vermillion, SD
Nov 08, 2008 Maintenance Shop Ames, IA
Conor Oberst
Conor Oberst
August 5th 2008
Merge Records
A cynic might note that Bright Eyes singer Conor Oberst has never really been known as simply a member of a band. He has always been the perceived heart and celebrated soul of Bright Eyes. Whether or not this is true does not exactly enlighten as to why Oberst has decided to release a record under his own name. We can’t quite call it a solo album can we? While Bright Eyes has permanent members, it is Oberst’s presence that is requisite. Simply said, Conor Oberst is Bright Eyes. Perhaps it is this conventional knowledge that provoked this moniker removal. In somewhat of a logical observation, Oberst can be seen to be taking a brake from himself and the persona that has been constructed by both his own efforts and those of industry tastemakers, eager to turn out a unique and compelling story; the results of which range from sincere critical praise to unfortunate narratives proffering Oberst as some sort of Doogie Houser of Indie Folk.
On an academic note, the Nebraska native’s introspection exemplifies the angle from which we, the audience, are intended to view. Oberst’s mythology is invariably rooted in his belongingness to Nebraska, a no-name, know-nothing state somewhere other than where most people live. Omaha is the locus that anchors much of his storytelling. Oberst’s proximity to home is in many ways the heart of his work; it is the referential space that is established in his lyrics as a place to be missed, a place in which to be misunderstood, and a place to misunderstand. These references are not always direct, but they are ubiquitously intertwined.
“He taught me victory is sweet even deep in the cheap seats…”
Even as he releases a self-titled record, suggesting biography, Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band offer a personal narrative that is reflexive and acutely aware of where his lyrical perspective is anchored. Released on Merge Records rather than our beloved Saddle Creek, Conor Oberst is a record that disconnects from the iconic figure that the songwriter has become, allowing for the reclamation of personhood. By naming the record after himself he contrasts what would be expected from him as Bright Eyes and what he would offer when striped of ambiguity. It should not be contentious to note this provocation.
“Bitch in heat, the alpha male, not something she’d ever tell, except when she was deathly high. Then out it came, like summer rain, washed the cars and everything felt clean for just a little while…”
With that said, Conor Oberst delivers one of his most lyrically impressive efforts to date. Taylor Hollingsworth, Nik Freitas, Macey Taylor, Nate Walcott, and Jason Boesel have signed on to tour in support of a record removed from the weighty expectations of studio refinement. Instead Oberst and a few friends absconded to Tepocztlán, Morelos, Mexico and put together a dozen tunes recorded in a make shift studio. It is a largely upbeat folk rock record that at times sees Oberst return to his most lip quivering form. The references to Latin life and the open road conjure images from Jack Kerouac and Hunter S. Thompson. While this might unfairly reduce Oberst’s incredible story telling, make no mistake, Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band have made a record entirely in tune with Beat culture. While Dylan comparison may be appropriate, it is Oberst’s anachronistic membership to the larger artistic tradition that in some ways allow him to be viewed as a peer, rather than a derivative of the Blonde on Blonde architect.Conor Oberstis as beautiful as it is provocative; it is anthropological. It is exactly what was needed to avoid the impending caricature of the passé boy genius in favor asserting an identity beyond the artifice of a clever name.
“There is nothing that the road cannot heal…washed under the blacktop, gone beneath my wheels…There is nothing that the road cannot heal…”
Bright Eyes Cassadaga- 2007
Noise Floor (Rarities: 1998-2005)- 2006
Motion Sickness: Live Recordings- 2005
Digital Ash in a Digital Urn- 2005
I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning- 2005
A Christmas Album- 2002
Lifted or The Story Is in the Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground- 2002
Fevers and Mirrors- 2000
Letting Off the Happiness- 1998
A Collection of Songs Written and Recorded 1995-1997- 1998
Desaparecidos
Read Music/Speak Spanish- 2002
Commander Venus
The Uneventful Vacation- 1997
Do You Feel at Home?- 1995
Tour
9/2 Amsterdam – Melkweg
9/3 Brussels – Botanique
9/4 Luxembourg – Den Atelier
9/5 Zurich – Rote Fabrik
9/7 Munich – Backstage Werk
9/8 Zagreb – Studenski
9/9 Vienna – Arena
9/10 Prague – Roxy
9/11 Cologne – Gloria
9/12 Larmer Tree Gardens, North Dorset – End of the Road Festival
9/13 Paris – Nouveau Casino
9/14 Mannheim Alte Feuerwache
9/15 Berlin – Columbia Club
9/20 Omaha, NE Anchor Inn w/ Jenny Lewis
9/21 Nashville, TN Ryman Auditorium w/ Jenny Lewis
9/22 Knoxville, TN Bijou Theatre w/ Jenny Lewis
9/23 Fayetteville, AR George’s Majestic Lounge w/ Jenny Lewis
9/24 Oxford, MS The Lyric w/ Jenny Lewis
9/25 Tulsa, TX Cain’s Ballroom w/ Jenny Lewis
9/27 Austin, TX – Austin City Limits
9/28 Austin, TX – La Zona Rosa w/ M. Ward
10/02 Melbourne, AUS The Palace
10/03 Brisbane, AUS Tivoli
10/04 Sydney, AUS Enmore
10/07 Honolulu, Hawaii Pipeline Cafe
10/21 Los Angeles, CA Music Box @ Fonda
10/22 Los Angeles, CA Music Box @ Fonda
10/24 San Francisco, CA The Warfield
11/08 New York, NY Terminal 5
11/09 New York, NY Terminal 5
Wintersleep
Welcome to the Night Sky
October 2nd 2007
Labwork Music
Wintersleep formed in 2002 in Halifax Nova Scotia. Paul Murphy and Loel Campbell collaborated on songs that were unsuited for the various other projects in which they were engaged. What began as a repository for odd ends, emerged as a well spring of potential. With the help of various recruits Wintersleep made use of their creative resources to produce an album of exceeding excellence. Welcome to the Night Sky is themed with violence and illness, words referenced as key phrases on multiple tracks. Borderline depression asserts and capitulates itself throughout the record, although the mood is not formed out of self loathing or inadequacy. The “unknown self” quarantines the words to a weighty inner dialogue, with questions as often rhetorical as they are inquisitive.
Mouth full of teeth chewed up and spit on the ground
When I speak, are my words just white naked sound?
Carelessly rendered and scattered around
Random
The lyrics are particularly artful. The poetics of the words are reinforced by a lack of repetition. There is little resemblance to the typical verse, chorus, bridge, reprise structure. The words are wrought with anxiety and self reflection. They expose the self interrogation undergone by those who do not know what to make of the world, let alone themselves. The lyrics suffer from a strange detachment of mind from body, and question the nature of such detachment. The mind is as anatomical as the brain. As we try to describe the phenomena of the mind, we visualize its throne and all its biological susceptibilities.
Oh my, I feel the teeth again
Gnawing and eminent in the lost lonely night.
Oh my, give me the words again, paint it aluminium, make it white, make it white.
The music is not as provocative as the lyrics, but even with occasional pop-rock simplicities, it provides an infectious mode through which the obscure words can be implanted into our own consciousness. The music rarely challenges the listener; however its accessibility will not leave the sour taste of conformity in your mouth. During its blissful moments of intensity, the music is textured with synthesizers and sprawling guitars. On balance it is yet again another exciting band to emerge from Canada. I am extraordinarily pleased with Wintersleep’s Welcome to the Night Sky. Their next stop in New York will find a warm reception.
Hypatia Lake
Angels and Demons, Space and Time
July 15th 2008
Reverb Records
There is the band and then there is the music. It is immediately understood when listening to Angels and Demons, Space and Time that Hypatia Lake has put together a record of enormous depth. The band itself is much less a physical entity, as it is a concept. The record is diffuse and eclectic, a psychedelic feast of beautiful noise and exquisite ambiances. The reason for the music’s variance is that Hypatia Lake is not intended to describe a group of musicians, but rather a mythic town. The band conceives itself as somewhat of an abstraction, manifesting the narratives and ethereal space in which the citizens of Hypatia Lake exist. The band must be understood as a thick description, using music genres and style to reify the disparate personalities that go about their business within the township of Hypatia Lake.
As each song passes, it gives way to the next with a deliberate disregard for consistency in tone or structure. There are heavy elements of early 90’s Seattle rock as well as shoegaze pop and classic psychodelia. I would love to hear this band cover War Pig. Every element of the music successfully invokes a particular mood without the jarring shuttle so often accompanied by medleys. I’ll not bother with a laundry list of musicians from which Hypatia Lake surely derive their influence, that list is assembled with such ease that I’ll save you the splendor of hearing all your guitar heroes amalgamated into a fluctuating pallet of raw heart. This band is ultra art rock; they are not progressive or excessively original, but they have had the divine pleasure of assembling a rare and intensely well written record. Not only was each song excellently conceived, but as a group they were assembled with attention and care.
Hypatia Lake recorded with Scott Colburn, an engineer who has worked with the likes of Arcade Fire and Animal Collective. His experience with experimental recording likely added to the record, but the talent exhibited on Angels and Demons, Space and Time by the band is tremendous. Even though the music serves an abstract function, the risky project proved to be entirely worthwhile. This record is excellent. Period.
The Black Ghosts
The Black Ghosts
July 8th 2008
IAMSOUND Records
Theo Keating and Simon Lord formerly of The Wiseguys and Simian are a British duo that has coalesced to form The Black Ghosts, an energetic outfit that seeks to rejuvenate the transatlantic electro-rock scene. The fuzz pulses and snappy beats have a decidedly disco structure that proves independent pop does not have to be relegated to those who feel what has worked on the dance floor for decades must be reformed or reinvented. Pop, no matter the budget and marketing power of its label, can still be easy and pleasurable.
That being said, The Black Ghosts‘ self titled record certainly has moments that resemble various outputs from The Faint, but they have not taken their independence as a requirement to lower the fidelity of their dance tracks. This record will not remind you of anything brought to us via The Rapture. Indeed much more polished influences can be inferred, Prince and Jamiroquai to name a couple. Keating and Lord have entrenched dance pop into a context much more analogous to their new wave predecessors, instead of accentuating the punk roots from which many early 80’s pop acts claim their heritage, and which might have scored them more brownie points with some in the media.
It is worth noting that Blur’s Damon Albarn does guest vocals on Repetition, and that the album is full length, which these days means at least 10 tracks. The record comes out July 8th and is sure to make a good impression on dance floors across New York City. For those who typically enjoy an evening at the discotech, The Black Ghosts are sure to please. If, like me, you traditionally despise such outings, you might still give them a listen, even if only to gauge all the ironic possibilities.
