Kayo Dot: Plastic Houses and Empty Rooms

Kayo Dot started showing up on my radar last spring on the casual suggestion of a reader who was a fan of their earlier “avant-metal” work. Then the eye-catching album art for the their upcoming release started inexplicably appearing on my feed, followed by previews that described evocative “Twin Peaks” atmospheres. These and other subtle suggestions continued until eventually, without even hearing a note, Plastic House at Base of Sky superseded Radiohead’s A Moon Shaped Pool as my most anticipated release this summer as we revved up to move out of Austin.

I submitted to the chaos of impenetrable cross-town traffic for the last time, and Plastic House at Base of Sky revealed itself to be an engaging example of what happens when an experimental metal group decides to hang up growling vocals and blast beats in lieu of apocalyptic anime soundscapes. Using synth textures that recall the heyday of the DX-7, it blurs the lines between guitar and keyboard like Beat-era King Crimson while unapologetically bringing contemporary technique to bear on old-school Simmons electric drum sounds.



Unlike the sleek elegance of 80s King Crimson, however, Plastic House at Base of Sky allows the density of Zappa’s synclavier experiments to collide with the chanting, gothic vocal approach of Toby Driver in a shoegazey smog. In its thicker moments, this texture teeters on cacophony, which imbues its more focused moments with meaning and power. While I am not sure if I totally buy into the “Twin Peaks” comparison, there is a dark, haunting quality to the album that might evoke David Lynch’s unsettling visual approach.

While I will not miss the traffic in Austin, I will definitely miss our house on the hill. Although I knew that leaving would be hard, the move out of the house ended up being more haunting and unsettling than I anticipated. After the movers were gone, I became acutely aware that it would be the last day that I will ever see the inside of that house. I felt my gut sink.

P’s room was particularly heartbreaking. EJ’s room had been a guest room since we moved in, and had only recently evolved into “the nursery” since she was born. P’s room, however, had always been just hers. It was the place that she grew from infancy to a full-fledged member of our team and, more recently, into a big sister. It’s pink accent wall, faux chandelier, white furniture, and Minnie Mouse trundle bed came to reflect her emerging personality.

As I stood in the empty room, these hidden memories the came out to play. I realized that I was not only saying goodbye to the space, but also to the infant that she was when we moved in. I had to go outside and I did not go back. That was it.



Then the next day, very quietly so as not to wake her and the rest of my family, I left my parent’s house in Austin at 5:30 AM with the dog as my navigator to embark on our new life in Denton. It seemed like the person who wrote about the events that led to us building and moving into our house on the hill four years ago was very far away, and I was stepping into a haze of uncertainty. Out of all this chaos, however, I am convinced that our new life will emerge with greater power and meaning. As for P, her new room will undoubtedly reflect the young lady she will become as she enters kindergarten - a person that will blossom from the child she was in our the little house on the hill.

"Lonerism:" on All Fours with Tame Impala

The package arrived at just the right time. The last time I opened my mailbox before I turned in the key to the apartment office, it bore an Amazon order that included Tame Impala’s Lonerism. I deemed it auspicious: new house, new music. The first listen, however, occurred when I was on my hands and knees putting the first coat of grout sealant on between the bathroom tiles. Hardly ideal. Despite this humble introduction, the albums hyperreal homage to psychedelia immediately grabbed my attention and has evolved into an indispensable favorite.

Tame Impala has an awareness of sound that was immediately noticeable. They bring an idealized memory of the late 60s and early 70s to life in much the same way that M83 does with 80s neo-romantic synth-pop: as it is remembered rather than as it was. For example, the fuzzy stomp-shuffle of Elephant clearly owes a debt to the instrumental section of Money, but it feels too reverent for me to judge Tame Impala too harshly for this similarity.


In addition to a sophisticated understanding of sound, Tame Impala also has an elegant sense of melody that expresses itself instrumentally as well as vocally. They often breathe new life into a tune by introducing an arresting riff right before the fade-out, implying that perhaps there is space in their live persona for extended jamming.

Within a few weeks, I had cultivated a great affection for their hybridized “John Lennon sings for Pink Floyd” approach. Only when I stumbled across the video for Feels Like We Only Go Backwards, however, did I really appreciate how fully they are committed to this style.



In addition to accompanying a great song, the video for Feels Like We Always Go Backward is a pretty and engaging piece of animation.  It also feels like it would be a small step for the trip to devolve into a three-armed nightmare.  Its rippling, hand-drawn aesthetic creates a surreal tension, the same kind that imbued old-school cartoons like Yellow Submarine and some of the shorts from The Electric Company with a sense of both wondrous beauty and uneasy dread.

The rest of the album also refers clearly to this era, but, like other good nostalgia bands, Tame Impala reinterprets more than they retell.  To put it a different way,  Lonersim is not “from” or “of” the psychedelic era as much as it is a commentary that is built on the dreamscapes of yesteryear.  Its distinctive musicality and consistency, however, allows it to stand on its own - even when I was on all fours getting domestic with the tile.

"The Money Store" and Death Grips' Caustic Veneer

For the majority of 2012, there has been an indie buzz surrounding Death Grips, but it wasn’t until the recent surreptitious release of their third album No Love Deep Web that I took notice. I say surreptitious because this album was not printed on a CD, nor was its tracklist available on ITunes. It was, in actuality, to be postponed by their record company and released next year. Death Grips, however, had been promising their growing fanbase that the album would be released in 2012, so in response, they simply posted the entire album to the web (with a rather shocking album cover, I might add) without the consent of their record company. There were subsequent heated exchanges between the two entities, most of which the band made public, and in the end, their unapologetic act of defiance against the conventions of commodity got them dropped.

It seemed to me that record deals are hard to come by these days, and any group that was making that kind of sacrifice for their artistic integrity deserved at least more than a cursory glance. I wanted to take them seriously, though, and that would require hardcopy. Rather than download and burn No Love Deep Web (which I secretly hope will see CD release), I went on a search for their “other” 2012 album, The Money Store. As it turns out, it is incredibly compelling album that lays at the junctures of so many genres that it feels like something completely new.



A quick glance at Wikipedia describes Death Grips as an “experimental hip-hop group,” and in a broad sense, this is true. It goes on to say that the band consists of vocalist Stefan "MC Ride" Burnett with production team Zach Hill and Andy "Flatlander" Morin. This is also valid, but I think that the description pushes Hill's production skills to the forefront and suggests that his drumming skills are secondary. Nothing could be further from the truth. While Hill's production skills are formidable, his drumming is nothing short of phenomenal, which is plain to see when he performs live.



The potentials of electronic drumming often makes his work sound more like production craft, but a close examination of The Money Store's percussive aspects reveals a devastating virtuosity that blurs the line between technique and technology in the same way that Battles does.



Superficially, Death Grips is loud and angry – perhaps even caustic. They might not be for everyone. During our recent grout-sealing party at the new house, The Money Store was one of six CDs that was not packed in a box. I put it in just to see what would happen. Within five minutes, the volume was turned down to a barely audible level, and within ten, the angelic strains of Sigur Ros’ Valtari began wafting from the kitchen. Oh, well – experiment failed.

With a pedigree that runs in the same circles as noise bands like Hella and The Boredoms, It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that Death Grips has such a caustic veneer. The Money Store is an incendiary, confrontational assault that pounds on the boundaries between hip-hop, electronica, industrial, and punk. Listening to it in traffic with too much caffeine is a recipe for a dangerous case of road rage. It is also, however, tempered by intellect and substance, and because of this, The Money Store has become a 2012 favorite. It’s first really angry music that I have listened to in a long time that I genuinely believe in.

Dr. Spin's Best Albums of 2012 Part 1: Numbers 11-20

Those of you that are paying attention might be wondering about a couple of loose ends from the past few months, so I’m gonna take this opportunity to pat myself on the back. Back in August, I took, and passed, my Sandan test at aikido summer camp. Earlier this month, I also passed my CrossFit Level-1 certification. Even better, by the end of this week, I’ll have a little space carved out for anyone that might want to work out too, because we are signing on the new house this Friday.

Things seem to be coming together, and they are, but at the moment we are living in chaos. The apartment is in shambles and my wife and I are exhausted, yet we press on.  If there is anyone out there who has thought about buying stock in an energy drink company, do it before this weekend. I feel confident that’s going to be the only thing keeping me going by then.

Like last year, I have forgone a proper “November Roundup” and instead posted the first (lower) half of my “Best of 2012” list. The best-of is not constrained to albums with a 2012 release date, but instead includes any album that came to have meaning to me this year. Albums that are strongly associated with past experiences do not qualify and, consequently, neither does any album from a previous year's list.

I am very pleased with this year’s results.  Even this second half works quite well as a representation of my listening experiences this year.  Not much jazz, unfortunately, but more rap and electronica than usual, a renewed interest in progressive rock, and a smattering of power pop and folk-ish songwriting.

20.  P.O.S. - We Don't Even Live Here: As much as Undun by The Roots deserves a place on the list as an example of what classic, mature, artistically motivated hip-hop can achieve, this recent release  from P.O.S. edged it out on the basis of its DIY adventurousness.  Like its predecessor, We Don't Even Live Here crossover success imbeds a rock attitude within a deeply musical hip-hop setting.

 

19. Kraftwerk - Man-Machine: I consider this album masterful from two perspectives: in terms of both its forward-thinking technological approach and its broad influence. Its appearance on the 2012 list also represents some other encounters with Kraftwerk this year that I have found inspiring, not the least of which was Autobahn.

18. Brendan Benson - What Kind of World?:  The relatively dark, moody approach that Benson adopted for this album took me awhile to warm up to.  Regardless, it is, as expected, a top-notch collection of power pop from one of the most consistent writers in the genre. 

17. North Atlantic Oscillation - Fog Electric: A very, very late entry, but I think that its inclusion is justifiable.  It sits comfortably at the crossroads of Marillion and M83, with a little Beach Boys and Sigur Ros thrown in for spice - more on them very soon. 

16. Bon Iver -  Bon Iver earned "album of the year" on many 2011 year-end lists, and set the bar really high for my 2012 entries.  It is, in my opinion, a beautifully crafted and special album. 

15. The Flaming Lips - At War With the Mystics:  The Flaming Lips have emerged as one of the leading experimenters in popular music.  Although I've had this album in my collection for quite awhile, my obsession with The Soft Bulletin prevented me from appreciating its nearly orchestral scope until this summer.

14. M83 - Before the Dawn Heals Us:  Even though M83 has evolved quite a bit since this release, Before the Dawn Heals Us does not show its age at all.  In fact, it lives in it own universe so effectively that if it were released in 2012, it would be no less relevant.

13. Gang Gang Dance - Eye Contact:  At times hypnotic, at others powerful, Eye Contact never ceases to be an engaging listen.  Moreover, it just sounds good, and its pristine production is a testament to the clarity that is possible in the contemporary studio.

12. Seryn - This is Where We Are:  Once it clicked, This is Where We Are became difficult to remove from the player.  It satisfies those of us that have been waiting for Peter Gabriel to do something new and fresh.

11. Anglagard - Viljans Oga: It was completely worth the decades-long wait (and the added month for shipping) for this follow up to Epilog.  Like its predecessors, it balances passion, intellect, musicianship, and aggression in just the right amounts so as to make it nearly endlessly rewarding.

To jump to the next half, click here.

September Roundup: An Eye on Good Fortune

Last night we walked though the new house. The wood only started going up in the last couple of weeks, but even so, we can see the abstract decisions we have made in countless meetings and discussions become real things. When everything only existed in our heads and on paper, it seemed that our questions and concerns were unanswerable, but now we can see those plans come to fruition. That’s comforting.

Superficially, ours is one of the humbler lots in our neighborhood. Several other houses are built on hillsides with striking views, while ours is tucked in the back. When we inspected the room upstairs, however, our friends, The Best Man and The Minister, who will very soon also be our neighbors, asked us if we had noticed our view from our north facing window. In my mind, that window wasn’t going to look into much more than the side of our next-door neighbor’s house. As I came to the window, however, I immediately looked past their sideyard to see a very clear view overlooking downtown Austin.

I was not counting on having much of a view of anything. When we decided to take the upstairs option, however, we got one just by chance. That’s the kind of good fortune that has come my way recently that makes me think that I, and my family, have been living right.

A couple of selections from this month were unavailable for streaming.

Oceansize - Everyone Into Position: This was a mid-00s find that straddles progressive rock and post-grunge rock styles. On the whole, I enjoy it, but it has never seemed to have much of a shelf life in the long term.

The xx - Coexxist: On the surface, Coexxist seems to capture the subdued melodrama of The xx's stellar debut. There seems to be something missing, however, and I'm still trying to decide if more simmering is needed.

The rest adds up to a pretty varied playlist.

Oneohtrix Point Never - Replica: I consider this to be the first album I bought this year, and its also one of the best. It is, perhaps, challenging at first, but it holds up incredibly well under repeated listens.

M83 - Before the Dawn Heals Us: Some fans cite this as M83's best album, which, considering the competition, is quite a tall order. After spending some time with it, however, I think that it just might be true.

My Bloody Valentine - Loveless: This album isn't catchy or even singable, really. Still, it envelopes and washes over the listener in a very distinctive and emotional way.

Rush - Clockwork Angels - I took it out for a week. Then I put it right back in.

I started the Jellyfish project this month with both Bellybutton and Spilt Milk, and it immediately garnered attention, more so than any other post in the blog's history.  It seems like the band's cult status has built a devoted fanbase over the years that supercedes their initial low-key success.

Kill Bill vol. 1 Original Soundtrack: This unique collection of songs is infused with menace and double meaning as the backdrop to Tarantino's masterwork. It holds together by seemingly little more than the strength of the movie's distinctive narrative.

Field Music - Plumb: I always hate to take this album out when it is in rotation. Although it does work as a collection of songs, it is best considered as a unified work.

Brendan Benson - What Kind of World:  All of Benson's releases are phenomenally good power pop, and What Kind of World is no different.  I'm not sure if its my favorite Benson album overall, but it's a great listen.

Seryn - This is Where We Are: After hearing about this band from many of my Denton brethren, I was quite fortunate to have a copy sent to me by a reader. Fortunate, indeed, because I get the feeling that This is Where We Are will be a rewarding long-term listen in terms of musicianship and craft.

Charles Mingus - The Clown: While there were some pretty clear lines of transmission in jazz, Mingus' work seems to exist outside of these traditions. His romantic approach to jazz is virtually antagonistic when placed in its late 50s context.

Emerson, Lake and Palmer: ELP has a few amazing moments on their debut that predicts the apex that they would soon reach. At times, however, it seems as if they are feeling out each other's potential in public, which makes the album a bit uneven.

Frozen Music: Beach House's "Bloom"

I was considering Beach House’s Myth as I wandered though a disconcerting, labyrinthine mosaic of kitchens and bathrooms. Most of the designs were quite extravagant, and they changed in the blink of an eye. Hardwood floors under white marble would transform into deeply textured granite over patterned tile. Glass backsplashes gave way to smooth river rocks, and although the cabinets retained the same physical shape, they varied wildly in hues that exploited the potentials of the wood spectrum.



This may sound like a scene from a David Lynch movie, but it adequately describes the grueling design meeting I was in with our house builders.  Obviously, I needed a break.  I felt quite sure that I had spotted a coffee machine when my wife and I entered the design center, but alas, that was four hours previous. When I found the pot its contents were painfully cold. I remained undeterred, though, and I fumbled through the unfamiliar controls of a high-end, but functional, microwave to warm it up.  Two minutes to think......

Like Lynch’s work and, consequently, Angelo Badalamenti’s, Bloom has a lovely veneer that seems to harbor a melancholic and perhaps ominous undertone. Although its misty textures are its most prominent feature, the individual songs are brought into sharp focus by the band’s keen melodic sense. Eloquent guitar work weaves the vocals to a radiating aura of keyboards, underpinned by loping, fluid grooves that don't propel as much as undulate. As a band, Beach House never quite erupts into a driving backbeat like Mew is known to do, but they capture a similar oneiric quality.



The accepted idea of what a "band" is, however, has changed pretty dramatically in the past decade. Beach House, for example, has no dedicated bass player, and for a band that emphasizes atmosphere so strongly, that's kind of an issue.  It is not unusual for current groups to sequence parts that, in the past, would have been played by a live musician.  Beach House's solution compliments their aesthetic beautifully.  The low end is handled by a set of Taurus-style foot pedals that guitarist Alex Scally plays while sitting (watch that first video again closely). The buzzing analog synth provides a satisfying and distinctive foundation for Beach House's bleak texture.

Goethe once famously said that architecture is like frozen music, the kind of deep metaphor that only a true polymath could make.  Like a house, music can be constructed out of  a multitude of materials.  As long as the dream home stands strong enough to be lived in, the details of its construction are an expression of personal aesthetic and circumstance.  Beach House's instrumentation has a positive and global consequence on their sound.  It is a subtle but absolutely necessary aspect of their identity.  At the heart of Bloom, however, lies consistently superior songs and poignant performances, and that makes the album a compelling experience worth dwelling within.

May Roundup: The House on the Hill

Photo Credit: Kate Wurtzel

After an evening of karaoke at The Highball, we found ourselves stranded at our friend’s house by a violent thunderstorm. Somehow, our children all slept through the maelstrom while we watched the storm roll in over the hill country with respectful awe, an awe that gave way to intimidation as the lightning struck the cell towers around us. It was another one of those unexpected bonding experiences that strengthened our long friendship with this couple.

We slept in their guest bed that night, and when we woke up in the morning I rolled over to my wife and said, quite matter-of-factly, "let's move out here." As the Little One grows increasingly active, it is becoming more and more obvious that she is going to need her own space before we decide on our PhD research agendas. In addition to getting into a nice community with reasonably sized lots, this seemingly straightforward decision also offered the opportunity to be close to our friends and their own little one, who is less than a month older than ours.

Of course, things got real complicated real quick, and the simple idea turned into an achingly difficult two-week decision process. In about six months, however, we will be moving into our house at the top of the hill. Not only will friends be around the corner, our daughter will grow up with a friend around the corner as well.

On tap this month:

Frank Zappa - Hot Rats: Zappa released several albums in the 70s that were mostly instrumental, but on Hot Rats his prowess as a guitarist was on equal footing with his constantly evolving compositional approach. A unique, perhaps even definitive entry in Zappa's ridiculously varied catalog.

The Beastie Boys - Check Your Head: Although many fans of the Beasties will cite Paul's Boutique as their artistic coming of age, for me it was Check Your Head. When they started playing their real instruments, they had me hooked.

Kraftwerk - Man-Machine: The synergistic influence of British synth-pop and Kraftwerk's innovation is difficult to disentangle. In any case, Man-Machine is certainly a move towards a more commercially viable Kraftwerk, but is in essence a powerful social commentary on late 70s Europe.

Junius - Reports from the Threshold of Death: I really want to like this album, but I remain suspiciously ambivalent. It checks a lot of boxes, but there is still something about that has not clicked for me.

Secret Chiefs 3 - Book M: This was a killer reader suggestion from early last year that sort of got lost in the shuffle like Great Civilizations. Listening to it now, I don't see how I could have overlooked its amazing "Mr. Bungle goes to Persia" feel.

The Mars Volta - Noctourniquet: This frenetic and sometimes downright noisy album is their most accessible, which says a whole lot about how frenetic and noisy they have been in the past. Still, it has some very sweet, contemplative moments.

The Sound of Siam - Leftfield Luk Thung, Jazz And Molam From Thailand 1964 - 1975: The most interesting ethno-pop compilations are the ones in which you can really hear the global and the local rub against each other. There is a very Asian veneer to these tracks that is appealing, but in at least one case, I can’t convince myself that the out-of-tune bass is intentionally microtonal – its just out-of-tune.

Brendan Benson - What Kind of World: Benson's newest album is perhaps his most dark and melancholic. Still, his characteristic ease with songcraft permeates even the moodiest tracks.

M83 - Before the Dawn Heals Us: The cosmic grandeur of Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming has its roots on this 2005 release.  M83’s music heads straight for that liminal space between reality and imagination, and makes it OK to be angry when the two don't match.

Skysaw - Great Civilizations: There are several killer tunes on Great Civilizations, but more importantly, the album captures the enthusiasm that Skysaw has for complex pop music. It is an excellent listen worth returning to.

Beach House – Bloom: A critically lauded dream-pop album that, based on first impressions, is actually pretty good. I would like to make a request to all bands, however: please stop adding bonus tracks at the end of your albums after “x” minutes of silence – after two decades, its officially annoying.

Willis Earl Beal - Acousmatic Sorcery: I think that Beal's best work is still ahead of him. If he plays into his strengths, I think that it could evolve into something truly unique.

The Year in Rush Sub-Roundup (and yes, I am speeding things up – the new album comes out next month!)

Grace Under Pressure: Perhaps not Rush’s most technologically advanced album, but certainly their most cybernetic. I remember sitting in the back of my parent’s minivan listening to this with awe in the church parking lot.

Power Windows: When other bands were reinforcing my idealized teenage worldview, Power Windows caused me to consider what it was that made me get up in the morning. There was a book of piano reductions that I used as a study guide when I was learning the album on bass, and yes, I still have it.

Hold Your Fire: I waited every day in my car outside of an HEB for two weeks waiting for tickets to come out for this tour. Getting third row floor tickets was one of the high points of my Johnston days - and made me incredibly popular for about a month.

Presto: I can’t help but recall being a wide-eyed freshman at UNT and seeing the Dallas skyline at night as Available Light played on the tape deck in my prized blue Subaru. It’s a lasting impression that I will always associate with this greatly underrated gem from Presto.