A Blog About Nothing in Particular
I saw Fred Thomas open for Eleanor Friedberger last year at Third Man Records downtown. His verbose indie pop on last year’s Changer caught me completely off guard. How had I overlooked an artist whose music so resonated with me? “Open Letter to Forever” is the perfect mix of poignancy and comedy. It’s a song that makes me smile every time I hear it.
Yesterday, Fred’s first single from Aftering debuted at The Fader. I can’t wait to hear the rest of the album in September.
We all stare into the infinite scroll. Sure, it was once a questionable UI solution that created an even more dubious UX for surfacing content on websites — don’t like what’s on the menu, well, what if that menu were endless — now defines how we consume content online, interrupted only occasionally as the timeline lags. It’s an exhausting, indiscriminate way to interact with media, but what’s the alternative? We literally look at mobile devices hundreds if not thousands of times a day and the social web waits to scratch an itch our brains have to be constantly entertained.
Ever since the election, I’ve striven — unsuccessfully- to change my media diet. As someone who consumes a ton of content that streams through my various timelines for professional reasons, I’m trying to be more mindful of and intentional about my media consumption and the habits that enable it.
I’ve long admired Jason Kottke’s work and lately I’ve appreciated how he’s documented his media diet in much the same way one might keep a food journal. Here’s a recent example.
To that end, I’ve compiled a list of things I’m engaging on purpose!
I’ll try to update this on a quarterly basis. How do you manage your cultural consumption habits?
“Let’s fake our way through Bad Blood for John.”
Neil Michael Hagerty was trying desperately to get through a gorgeous, disastrous set at El Club’s first birthday party with a Royal Trux classic, dedicating it to Negative Approach’s John Brannon, the first son of Detroit hardcore. Hagerty’s bandmate Jennifer Herrema had spent most of the show seated or laying down onstage, joining in on vocals sporadically.
It was everything I’d imagine it would be and more. Thrilled to see them back together again and back out on the road.
I met Grails in Fishtown, before or after a show upstairs at the old Circle of Hope on Frankford, I don’t quite remember. The show itself was phenomenal. They were out in support of  2007’s Black Tar Prophecies Vol 1–3, a collection I really enjoyed and a sound NPR Music’s Lars Gotrich describes as “doomy Americana.”
He’s not wrong. After I heard, Earth’s great 2005 album Hex: Or Printing in the Infernal Method, I was intoxicated by this sound. For the uninitiated, imagine an instrumental soundtrack to True Detective Season 1. For me, it was a counterpoint to what had started to frustrate me about freak folk popular at the time.
The guys themselves were really great. I planned to interview them, but Fishtown Tavern was way too loud, so we ended up talking about music and shouting at each other like the regulars. I’d later catch them when they came through on subsequent tours and was surprised to see Emil Amos’ holding down the drums for the mighty Om.
Chalice Hymnal, their first record since 2011, is out in a few weeks. Checking out the new tunes on Temporary Residence’s Soundcloud, it’s a departure from that doomy Americana sound. The title track has elements of dub that were completely unexpected.
“Deep Snow II” is more of the foreboding pastoral I fell in love with when I first heard the band. It’s less witchy and more space rock than the stuff they were doing 10 years ago, but it’s familiar in its tone and mood.
If there’s something I especially love about 2017 musically, it’s that so many of the bands I loved as a music critic are getting back together and making fantastic music. Grails are no exception.
David Bowie was, to me, my Dylan. He was one of the few artists I always felt I could spend more time with and never spent enough. When he died last year, I wrestled with how to mourn him.
Shortly thereafter, I must’ve been watching the documentary 5 Years that I learned how Bowie adored Eno’s Discreet Music, a record that I’d enjoyed but hadn’t devoted myself to in any meaningful way. I must’ve listened to it nightly for weeks, if not months, while putting the boys to bed, letting the opening track 1/1 envelop me in the darkness.
Imagine my surprise when I opened my music app to discover Brian Eno has released Reflection, an hour of ambient music, informed by his earlier work and equally satisfying.
More interesting is how Eno refers to it as generative music. Bob Boilen mentioned on All Songs Considered that for $40, you can purchase an app that iterates the sounds from Reflection in unique new ways and, thanks to an algorithm, without repeating. I plan to spend as much time or more with this music in 2017 as I did mourning Bowie last year.