Spring Roundup Part 4: Good Car

People's taste in music is often shaped by the distinctive ways in which it is consumed and used.  Take my father, for instance. For most of my adult life, my father has had an explicit preference for instrumental music that he listens to in the car.  As I have stated elsewhere, the automobile as a listening site has its advantages and limitations. One such limitation arises due to the significant amount of background noise that we take for granted while driving, making it more difficult to appreciate music’s quieter aspects.

The problematically labelled “new age” music that my father likes capitalizes on dynamic contrasts, and he would often get annoyed at having to turn his volume up and down to follow the details of softer passages. When he found an album that stayed within a dynamic range that he would not have to adjust, it would receive a label designating it as “GOOD CAR.”

Although I used to tease my dad relentlessly about choosing music based on the narrowness of its dynamic range, there is merit to the designation. Only in recent years have I realized how much I limited myself by making the car my primary listening site. Even now, the majority of my music begins in the car and gets distributed into different settings as the need arises.  Still, there are some kinds of music whose darkness, angularity, dissonance, or general intended volume are best suited for the private setting of my car. These albums are my version of Good Car.


John Williams - The Last Jedi OST: while this may not be John Williams most memorable Star Wars score, just might be his most masterful. The way that he interweaves themes from throughout the franchise is incredible in this soundtrack, and is best appreciated at max volume.

LITE - Cubic: A few years ago, I would have cited LITE as one of my favorite bands. They have steadily moved away from the aggressive intensity of their earlier work, however, towards a more jazzy fusion approach that lacks the same emotional impact.

Mouse on the Keys - The Flowers of Romance: When I first discovered Mouse on the Keys, they were strictly a piano duo with a drummer. They have significantly expanded their sonic palette since then, but in the process may have lost some of the essence of what made them interesting.

Alcest - Kodama: it's hard to resist an album that cites Deafheaven, Tool, and Princess Mononoke as equal influences. Kodama balances light and dark, beauty and ugliness, hope and despair in ways that convincingly reflect these somewhat diverse inspirations.

The Who - Who Are You?: I'm a big fan of The Who, and I've slowly been putting their albums in my collection for the past 30 years. Despite a couple of really compelling high points, this is the first one I really thought was a big jumbled up mess on the whole.

Andrew W.K. - You Are Not Alone: I got this on the suggestion of several friends, and quickly found that there was more to Andrew W.K. than a comically optimistic attitude and theatrical riff-rock. Once I let go of my cynicism and embraced the idea the he might be genuine, I came to really appreciate his mission statement.

Wei Zhongle - The Operators: A songwriter and an eccentric clarinet player walk into a Chinese opera and start covering the Talking Heads. This isn’t beginning of a joke - its Wei Zhongle

Piniol - Bran Coucou: Piniol is, apparently, a mashup of two separate mathty French noise bands, Piol and Ni. In this incarnation, with two bass players and two drummers, they blast through Bran Coucou with the precision of Battles and the Zorn-esque zaniness of Mr. Bungle.

John Powell - Solo: A Star Wars Story OST: To me, the most important aspect of continuity in the Star Wars universe is John Williams' scores, and there has been no small amount of anxiety to find someone to pass the baton to before he retires. John Powell’s approach is noticeably more polyrhythmic and driving than Williams, but his melodic sense is completely compatible with the franchise’s already established musical canon.

Kite Base - Latent Whispers: This album came too late to make the Dinner Music post, but its Bjork-meets-Nine Inch Nails-meets-The XX would probably fit in that category as well. It is just a bit dark in tone (not content), but it abounds with memorable tunes and smart arrangements.

Defying Gravity: Two SXSW Shows

Just for perspective, the last time I went to see anyone at SXSW, it was this “new thing” that a few clubs were doing.  I got a wristband from Blockbuster Music (where I worked) and I saw Jellyfish and Blues Traveler at Liberty Lunch.  These days, it’s a different story.  It’s like a freaking orgy of hobnobbing and one-upmanship.  In the brief time I spent in the throngs, I saw a guy sympathetically pick up a live mustard-covered crawfish off the street and sincerely apologize to it, and as I waited in line at the Gingerman to get in to see LITE, a dramatic diva preened and obsessed on her cell phone to her girlfriend about meeting Jack White.  I choked back the urge to get all Frank Booth and bark “JACK WHITE? MAN, EFF JACK WHITE!”

As satisfying as that might have been, I chose to focus on my agenda.  I find that it is far more interesting, and financially feasible, to troll for lesser-known (and often free) bands that are caught in the intense gravity of popular culture that surrounds SXSW than it is to be blinded by media-synthesized star power.  

I carved out the time to see two bands during the festivities.  On Thursday, after eating lunch at Whole Foods (my favorite lunch spot), I casually strolled across the street to Waterloo Records to see the Royal Bangs promoting their new release.  I got Let it Beep last year, and although it had a couple of fantastic tracks on it, the entire album seemed a little uneven.  At the time, they were playing as a five-piece, so I was surprised to see them perform as a guitar, drum, and (mostly) keys trio.  Bass parts were sometimes sequenced, sometimes synth, and sometimes a guitar effect.  Synths play a large role in the Royal Bangs, but despite this, they retain a kind of punky DIY feel.  I would not really call them songwriters, but they write good psudeo-prog instrumentals that happen to have vocals.  The first part of this clip is from that lunchtime show.

I liked the Royal Bangs’ set, but it was, ultimately, an outpatient procedure.  After it was over, I went about my day as if nothing had happened.  When I leave a really great show, I almost feel like a different person when I walk away.  The last time that happened was in January 2010 when I saw the Dead Kenny G’s at Momo’s.  This year, I seriously doubt I am going to see another show that will beat out LITE.  Where I felt satisfied with the Royal Bang’s thirty minute set (which is the standard set length during SXSW), I would have gladly listened to LITE play all night long, and I walked away stunned and invigorated. 

When I got to the show on Friday evening, there was an appreciable line at the Gingerman, but the majority of this line was there to see punk/DIY legend Mike Watt, who was touring with LITE.  Several years ago, a friend of mine game me a copy of Mike Watt’s The Secondman’s Middle Stand.  I did not really get the album at the time, but after seeing him live, I have a much greater appreciation for his work.  He put on a great show, but after he was done, the crowd thinned considerably.  I immediately shot to the front and watched LITE set up.  I ended up right by the stage, and when they began playing, I was this close (picture from LITE's tour blog).    

Gingerman’s site described Lite as “instrumental virtuosos from Japan,” and granted, LITE’s music is technical.  Unquestionably, though, they rock.  They exploded on stage with an intense precision that made my hairs literally stand on end and shattered my usual statuesque demeanor.  LITE’s performance expresses the passion that is both the cause and the result of cultivating musical mastery, which is, to me, far more moving than cleverness or public visibility.  Despite being purely instrumental, they captivated both me and, the crowd, it seemed.  The band clearly enjoys playing what they are playing, and this joy is infectious.  Fortunately, there was a person beside me who filmed the show, and I have waited on this footage to arise to post my ramblings on SXSW.  It is pretty much their entire set, so go get a cup of coffee and check it out.

One of LITE’s strongest attributes is their attention to composition above individual technical ability, but they also know when to just to get out of the way.  For example, at the climax of their flawlessly executed version of Image Game (my fight song), the band brought the audience to the edge of their proverbial seats as they counted off several seconds of impenetrable silence, to incredible effect.

Additionally, it was nice to see a real live bass player.   It seems like increasingly, I see bands sequence bass parts and drummers playing to click tracks.  I think it’s funny that, when drum machines came along in the 80s, there was some apprehension that drummers would become obsolete.  Today, it seems like drummers are doing fine – its bassists that should be looking over their shoulders for the axe!  Judging by the studious group crowded around the bassist (one of which had a bass clef tattooed on his forearm), we should all be sticking together, too.

Finally, just for kicks, I thanked each of the members of LITE in my halting Japanese, and they seemed pleased, if not surprised, to hear that pop out of a tall white boy while on tour in Texas.  To keep my enthusiasm in check, though, I promptly left before I reverted too far into goofy teenage fanboy mode and let the sound and feeling of LITE’s set recede into memory.  I promise I'll stop talking about them for a little while.

Contrasting Similarities: Toe and Lite

I enjoy variety in my listening, and often my interest in variety will dictate the direction that it takes.  On the other hand, I do get on kicks with certain styles, and I see no reason to shake them if they continue to hold my interest.  In January, I was checking out a lot of electronic instrumental music, and to rebel against that, I went on a math rock kick at the beginning of this month (because you know, THAT’s so different).  This led to my current interest in Japanese progressive/instrumental music, and right now, even though I have tried to taper off listening to this subgenre, I keep fighting the temptation to fill up the CD player entirely with the stuff.  

In a previous post, I mentioned that Lite would be coming to Austin as part of the SXSW festivities, and that I was also looking into another band called Toe.  Those two seeds came to fruition simultaneously.   Toe's The Book about My Idle Plot on a Vauge Anxiety showed up the day I was going to see Lite at SXSW here in Austin.  There will hopefully be some footage of that show online soon, so I am going to wait to gush about it too much, but I will say that it will be seriously hard for any live act to top Lite this year.  

Between Toe in the car and Lite at the Gingerman, that evening threw gasoline on the Japanese instrumental rock fire I have been warming my hands around.  Although Toe’s similar instrumentation, ideology, and approach seems similar to Lite, their ethereal approach to twin guitars readily distinguishes them.  Toe’s music is intimate and organic in a way that makes them seem more “post-rock” than “math-rock.”

Now, let’s talk over on camera three for a second.  I dislike (nay, hate) the categorization “post-rock.”  I think it is essentially empty.  It’s a label created for progressive rock made after 1995 that intends to distance it from the excesses associated with that style.  Some influential bands such as Sigur Ros and Tortoise have been christened as “post-rock,” and as a result the term has the circumscribed melancholy associated with these bands, circumventing thoughtful description.  And that's the issue: as a category of music, “post-rock” is non-descriptive – it means nothing more than an “alternative” to “alternative.”  I fully accept my complicity in promulgating this term here, but also my reluctance to use it for the sake of brevity.  More on music categories later.

While listening to Toe on the way home, and enjoying it, I also struggled to keep the energy and precision of Lite’s show in my awareness.  I came home and immediately downloaded two of their EPs, Illuminate and Turns Red, and burned them onto a CD.  I even printed out cover art for the case.

 

One of Lite’s strongest attributes is their attention to composition above individual technical ability.  Despite the obvious virtuosity of each of the individual members of Lite, they don’t showcase “solos,” in the classic sense.  I can’t argue the point that Lite uses lots of notes, but I think their chops coalesce in service to the melodic aspects of their work.  Filmlets was primarily guitar-driven, but synthesizers play a more pronounced role in Illuminate/Turns Red.  This is not to say that they have given up on their distinctively angular, riff-driven approach.  Instead, their use of synthesis widens and enhances the sonic possibilities of their work.  This live clip has two of my favorite songs from Illuminate.

Image Game is my "fight song" right now.  In a live setting, it was devastating.  Not only does it showcase their energetic mastery of precisely executed and thickly harmonized melodic lines, but also their ear for atmosphere and ambience.  Side-by-side with Toe, I think the differences between the two bands are apparent, but I also think that fans of one will probably like both.