Everyone was friendly when we played follow the loss leader.

The Drones

Take a sec­ond and think about record stores and live music and counter that with the per­cep­tion that the world is abuzz with new music all the time. There’s more prod­uct than ever! But the record stores piece is old hat; what hap­pens when they’re gone is a dif­fer­ent mat­ter. But as the Times points out, does that mean that some unprof­itable gen­res will die off with them?

Con­tin­ue read­ing

You couldn’t lose me if you tried.

Beach House

Bal­ti­more’s Beach House play music that Amer­i­can­izes Broad­cast in much the same way that Pave­ment did the Fall. Not only do they achieve that much sought after soft, kalei­do­scop­ic focus and gauzy feel, they also fash­ion a min­i­mal­is­tic, ele­gant psy­che­delia that empha­sizes the pas­toral rather than the mod­ern. There’s a lot to be said for artists who choose expres­sion­ism to con­vey mean­ing, rely­ing more on images and mood than lyrics alone; think of Michael Stipe’s inde­ci­pher­able lyrics on Mur­mur and all the poet­ic pos­si­bil­i­ties! But as Beach House­’s sus­pend­ed melodies scud like clouds over sput­ter­ing click­tracks and key­board demos, time slows down and it’s impos­si­ble to for­get how roman­tic and win­some Mazzy Star sound­ed on “Fade Into You”, and how inchoate and imme­di­ate those sen­sa­tions and excite­ment remain.

Con­tin­ue read­ing

That was just a dream, just a dream, just a dream, dream.

Going up?

Lis­ten: Dev­as­ta­tions — I Don’t Want to Lose You Tonight

The scene: Tele­visión Educa­ti­va. The place: some­where with­in Stephane Miroux’s dream scape, which bears an uncan­ny like­ness to any morn­ing info­tain­ment pro­gram set, replete with musi­cal accom­pa­ni­ment a la Laugh-In, a kitchen island for con­coct­ing potions and demon­stra­tion props galore. This is where Stephane nar­rates his own dream, recount­ing a sto­ry about his late father and he enjoy­ing a Duke Elling­ton con­cert. It’s at once mag­i­cal and far­ci­cal, yet poignant, so fresh is the mem­o­ry of his father. Once again, direc­tor Michel Gondry treats us to his rare com­bi­na­tion of mind/body gyra­tions, as well as the entan­gle­ments of history/memory, with more than a lit­tle sen­ti­men­tal­i­ty mixed in for good measure.

Con­tin­ue read­ing

I’m all right, Jack. I’m o.k.

Beach House, Johnny Brendas 10/27/2006

Some quick notes before the weekend:

  • The Sci­ence of Sleep review is being draft­ed as I type this. The dream type­writer is ful­ly operational.
  • First impres­sion upon hear­ing The Hold Steady’s Boys and Girls in Amer­i­ca is that if they’re real­ly protest­ing the bar band Spring­steen ’75 com­par­i­son, methinks they doth protest too much.
  • Beach House were real­ly great last night. It’s a point worth elab­o­rat­ing, and I will lat­er this week­end. That’s their organ, by the way.
  • Tomor­row night: Dev­as­ta­tions and The Drones at John­ny Bren­da’s. See you there?