na: okkervil, portastatic, tricky

(photo by Valerosaspina)

So there’s an insane number of new releases today. Let’s take a quick spin through some of the notables:

Okkervil River, The Stand Ins: I seem to be the only person who likes this more than the last one. I will quote myself:

Where the protagonists in The Stage Names seemed to stumble dumbly and naively through their misfortunes (”A Girl in Port,” in particular, bore the sting of regret), here the characters are harder and crueler and more calculated. The villains enter early: “Singer Songwriter” is a dead-on evisceration of the kind of privileged folkie that affects penniless bohemianism for the sake of image. Will Sheff’s lyrics, which in the past had a tendency to sacrifice clarity for poetry, are agonizingly precise here: “I heard cuts by the Kinks on your speakers,” he sneers, “I saw Poe and Artaud on your shelves/ While The Last Laugh’s first scene/ On your flat-panel screen/ Lit Chanel that you wrapped ’round yourself.” It’s blistering and brutal, a 21st-century take on “Positively 4th Street.” That the music is a spot-on evocation of Bringin’ It All Back Home doesn’t hurt. In fact, The Stand-Ins is best when it’s buoyant: “Calling and Not Calling My Ex,” which this writer would like to argue is about Chan Marshall (um, evidence to come) rolls along on a broad, brash folk strum as Sheff sighs, “She was once mine/ That smile that shines from the glossy magazine/ That’s stuck inside the Sunday Times.”

Horse Feathers, House with No Name: This is my ’sleeper pick.’ Kinda gorgeous, if a bit saccharine. Acoustic guitars, high, trembling male vocals, some fiddles and violins. I can see M. Ward or even Will Oldham aficionados enjoying. Violins sway and sweep, the singer sighs — it’s all very outdoor Appalachia in the best possible way. Track 3 is maybe a little “Your Body is a Wonderland,” but I’m willing to overlook. Investigate.

Portastatic, Some Small History: Odds & ends collection from Portastatic. eMusic’s Wayne Robins sez:

Portastatic’s Some Small History is a rather vast archival undertaking: 44 tracks, singles, B-sides, album cuts, covers, promotional 7-inch releases and the like. If Superchunk is the arena alt-rock killer app, Portastatic is the low-tech workshop, a band to which the phrase “acoustic distortion” is not a contradiction. With the exception of set opener “Starter,” Portastatic’s spare, coherent-yet-blustery first recording, there’s no particular order here (thanks, Mac), any more than there is a pattern to artists covered, other than with great respect and fearless vision: Dylan, Sandy Denny and the Strawbs, Ryan Adams, Galaxie 500 (”Tugboat”), American Music Club (”Firefly”), Hot Chip (”Boy from School”) and the Magnetic Fields among them. Counterintuitive strategies abound: the Undertones’ raucous “Teenage Kicks” is gutsily executed as an acoustic love ballad. From the big originals pile, “Trajectory” could be a Nirvana B-side, “Soft Fruit” lounge reggae.

Tricky, Knowle West Boy: There was a discussion in the office a few weeks back about a very particular, frequent use for the first Tricky record. I’ll spare you. Suffice it to say, Knowle West Boy is a long way off from Maxinquaye, but you can decide whether or not that’s good or bad. eMusic’s Jess Harvell sez:

Describing Tricky’s new Knowle West Boy makes it read as wonky as it often sounds: The jaunty beats of new wave and Brit pop smothered in lethargic, quasi-goth gloom? Ragga-inflected femme torch-song crooning over distorted, jumpy electro rhythms? Sometimes his one-man mash-ups produce interesting sparks, like when he cranks up dancehall rhythms to jittery indie rock tempos on “Baligaga.”

Bound Stems, The Family Afloat: Recommended — echoey indie rock, relentlessly tuneful, should make the same folks who are grabbing the Okkervil happy.

The Broken West, Now or Heaven: Same as above, minus the echo. Broken West write guitar pop full of clean lines and easy hooks. Well-executed indie rock, which is in no way a dis.

Kimya Dawson, Alphabutt: She’s a part-time lover and a full-time friend, the monkey on her back is the latest trend, etc etc etc. Kimya returns after becoming something of a household name via her prominent placement in Juno. eMusic’s Douglas Wolk sez:

Will it speak to kids who aren’t related to the singer? Absolutely — not least because a few of Dawson’s backing musicians are small enough to ride the bus for free, and there’s nothing toddlers like more than hearing other toddlers wreaking gentle havoc with simple tunes. Some of these songs are the kind of little melodies children make up to go along with something they’re doing: “Louie,” about [Kimya's daughter] Panda’s favorite dog, has a chorus that goes “Louie Louie Louie Louie Louie Louie Louie Louie Louie Louie Louie Louie Louie!”

Joan Baez, Day After Tomorrow: Steve Earle acts as Joan Baez’s Rick Rubin on her 24th record. Comprised entirely of covers, the duo keep things spare and restrained — not much beyond Baez’s voice and guitar — which should please the folk fans.

Dar Williams, The Promised Land: Produced by Brad Wood of Exile in Guyville fame, this doesn’t find Dar branching too far beyond her chosen milieu. Not so much for me, but fans of adult contemporary singer/songwriter material will probably enjoy. (Confession: I actually kinda like the first song. So, there, you got me). I note that near the end of the album, there is a cover of one of my favorite songs of all time, “Midnight Radio” from Hedwig & the Angry Inch.

Woven Hand, Ten Stones: Woven Hand is David Edwards from my beloved 16 Horsepower. This sounds a bit more restrained and less wild-eyed than that band — think recent Nick Cave — but still packs plenty of Old Testament power.

The New Year, The New Year: The Kadane brothers return, with more slow, sad hits. eMusic’s Kate Silver sez:

The third, eponymous New Year release, like its predecessors, ruminates over indie’s Albini Effect: tempered guitars, crisp drums and vocals front and center. The New Year never runs out of steam; they save it up. Once they pick up speed, edging further into the mostly instrumental “Folios,” Matt asks with a gentle hum: “I don’t think the good years I’ve got can wait / So what are we staying for?” Feeling like the oldest guy at the indie-rock party, Matt can’t seem to find familiarity, and so he fires off a moody status update: “It’s not that I’m dying / To be young again / But the last few years / Have turned me into an alien” (“The Idea of You”).

Liz Durrett, Outside Our Gates: I kinda like this — atmospheric, Cat Power-esque songs. Got a penchant for serious moonlight? Check it out.

Damien Jurado, Caught in the Trees: Latest from Jurado finds him branching out a bit; eMusic’s Corey DuBrowa sez:

Jurado now imagines himself as a band, with long-time contributors Eric Fisher and Jenna Conrad doing the best they can to pin skin and depth to Jurado’s acoustic bones (the lead cut, “Gillian Was a Horse,” is practically a radio single — complete with jaunty honky-tonk piano and joyously tossed-off lines like “he’s no bullshit talker” — when compared to Jurado’s “There Is None Blacker” back catalog). Jurado’s bloody-minded fixation on emotional “authenticity” appears to have given way to his better storytelling impulses — in other words, his music may remain decidedly minor-key, but his lyrical scrolls have become more Thomas McGuane (think: The Bushwacked Piano) than Raymond Carver.

I’m Not Jim, You Are All My People: AKA Jonathan Lethem and Walter Salas-Humera of the Silos. eMusic’s Amanda Petrusich sez:

Given the notion’s dubious pedigree, it’s astonishing how compelling and coherent You Are All My People is — save a few missteps (three Jim Carroll-aping spoken-word tracks), I’m Not Jim’s first full-length is an impressive, atmospheric collection of electro pop bolstered by Lethem’s words, Maxwell and Hernandez’s sputtering production and Salas-Humara’s craggy, defiant guitar and vocals.

Bis, New Transistor Heroes: A boatload of titles from the late Grand Royal label, including this bit of bananas pop from Bis. Bis are the sound of cereal: super sugary, brightly-colored, easy to consume. This kind of exuberant uber-pop was the rage at one point, and a quick spin through the samples reveal Bis have aged well enough. Also worth mentioning, the Cibo Matto side project Butter 08, which is one for the block-rocking beats contingent. It’s got a song called “Butter of 69.” So, you know, puns.

All the Saints, Fire on Corridor X: A winner — spaced-out yawning indie rock, lots of tangled guitars and worlds and worlds of echo. Ladies and gentlemen we are floating in space.

Young Widows, Old Wounds: I was crazy for the last Young Widows record. This one seems like it weighs twice as much — it’s a lot more riff-oriented and a lot less spastic and elastic. Time will tell where I land on this, but fans of The Monorchid and even Drive Like Jehu will probably find something here to love.

Hawnay Troof, Islands of Ayle: Booming, belching electronic music, heavy on the goofy, kinda 8-bit. Not really my thing, but some people might like it.

Ten Kens, Ten Kens: An advance from FatCat, kinda blurred, bleary rock — stomping beats, buried vocals, sun-warped guitars. Try before you buy.

Various Artists, Deep Throat Anthology: Believe it or not, my reasons for recommending this are not entirely perverse. Fans of kitschy lounge exotica/fake-funk will enjoy this, especially the leisure-suit whomp of “She’s Got to Have It.” Those with a jones for plastic music should probably snap up a few tracks for their next house party.

Half Pint, Greetings and Tenor Saw Meets Nitty Gritty: Two more great reggae releases from VP; the former is some light, easy-rolling digital reggae, the latter is a milder kind of dancehall. Both notable, if a little short of essential.