Review and discussion on The Lemon Twigs' 2023 album "Everything Harmony," with some thoughts on the boundaries of "-pop."
Showing posts with label Power Pop. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Power Pop. Show all posts
Sunday, April 28, 2024
The Lemon Twigs & Everything Harmony: Distilling the Pop Problem
And if you don't know about the playlist by now, I got nothing for you.
Tuesday, February 7, 2023
2023 Tier 1 Album Preview Series: Part 10 of 12
These are bands with an "S" this time:
Sloan - Steady (2022) Soup - Visions (2021) Sault - Untitled (God) (2022) Steve Reich - Runner/Music for Ensemble and Orchestra (2022)Sunday, November 13, 2022
Bobgoblin's 12-Point Master Plan: Never Sell Out
A look back at a relatively obscure classic from 1998, The 12-Point Master Plan by Bobgoblin.
Relevant links:
Text post on Bobgoblin's Love Lost for Blood Lust, my 2016 Album of the Year
Sunday, August 29, 2021
2021 Album Preview Series: August in Appalachia
A preview of recent listening, including:
Bo Burnham – Inside (The Songs) (2021)
Mononeon – Supermane (2021)
Tally Hall – Marvin’s Marvelous Mechanical Museum (2005)
Siti Muharam – Siti of Unguja (Romance Revolution in Zanzibar) (2020)
Beauty Pill – Please Advise (2020)
Aphex Twin – Selected Ambient Works Vol. 2 (2005)
Relevant Links:
Post on Beauty Pill’s Describes Things As They Are
Best of 2015
Source for Aphex Twin visuals
Bo Burnham – Inside (The Songs) (2021)
Mononeon – Supermane (2021)
Tally Hall – Marvin’s Marvelous Mechanical Museum (2005)
Siti Muharam – Siti of Unguja (Romance Revolution in Zanzibar) (2020)
Beauty Pill – Please Advise (2020)
Aphex Twin – Selected Ambient Works Vol. 2 (2005)
Relevant Links:
Post on Beauty Pill’s Describes Things As They Are
Best of 2015
Source for Aphex Twin visuals
Monday, May 24, 2021
Matthew Sweet's 100% Fun: Stick With the Basics
Review and discussion on Matthew Sweet's 1995 power pop classic 100% Fun.
Relevant Links:
70s inspired animation by Eva Landry
Sunday, April 11, 2021
A Tale From The Other Side: A Quarantine Commentary
Interview and discussion on Timmy Sean's 2021 album A Tale From The Other Side, featuring feedback from the artist.
Extended footage with Timmy Sean.
Thursday, March 18, 2021
Album Preview Series 2021: Spring Break Edition!
Previews of current listening, including:
Timmy Sean – A Tale From the Other Side (2021)
Mary Lattimore – Silver Ladders (2020)
Coil - Musick to Play In The Dark V.1 (1999)
Sons of Apollo – MMXX (2020)
London Grammar – If You Wait (2014)
Nils Frahm – All Melody (2018)
Full clip of Broccoli
Saturday, May 23, 2020
Album Overview Spring 2020: Quarantunes - The Sequel! (Part 2)
Overview of recent listening, including:
Fountains of Wayne – Welcome Interstate Managers (2003)
The Sorcerers – In Search of the Lost City of the Monkey God
(2020)
Gaijin Blues – Gaijin Blues II (2019)
Brendan Benson – Dear Life (2020)
Stephan Thelan – Fractal Guitar (2019)
Other Lives – For Their Love (2020)
Relevant Links:
Previous post on Fountains of Wayne
Saturday, May 16, 2020
Album Overview Spring 2020: Quarantunes - The Sequel!
Brief impressions on the albums that have been in rotation
recently, including:
The Merrymakers – Bubblegun (1998)
Seabuckthorn – Through a Vulnerable Occur (2020)
Flotation Toy Warning – Bluffer’s Guide to the Flight Deck
(2003)
LAG I RUN – Vagrant Sleepers (2019)
Tears for Fears – The Seeds of Love (1989)
Fiona Apple – Fetch the Bolt Cutters (2020)
Relevant Links
Older text post on Seabuckthorn’s Turns
Labels:
ambient,
Jellyfish,
Power Pop,
Psychedelic,
SBNB
Sunday, April 19, 2020
Kate Davis' Trophy: Sticky Ideas and Classic Repertoire
Review and discussion on Kate Davis' background and debut album Trophy (2019).
Sunday, April 5, 2020
Fountains of Wayne's Utopia Parkway: Ennui and Responsibility
Review and discussion on Fountains of Wayne's 1999 album Utopia Parkway, as well as an overview of Adam Schleisinger's career.
Sunday, February 9, 2020
2020 Album Preview Series Part 5: Transcending Convention!
Final 2020 Preview post, including discussion on:
Kate Davis – Trophy (2019)
Heijira – Thread of Gold (2019)
Church of the Cosmic Skull – Everybody’s Going to Die (2019)
We Are the City – RIP (2020)
Cynic – Focus (1993)
Related Links
Previous post on Pohja Konn
2020 Radio
Sunday, October 6, 2019
The Jellyfish Family Tree Part 10: Falkner and Johnston at the Mohawk
A anecdote that looks at Jason Falkner’s I’m OK, You’re OK (2007) and Daniel Johnson’s Is And Always Was (2019) along the way.
Relevant links:
Part 2: Spilt Milk at Lunch
Part 4: Falkner Knocks Me Down
Part 7: Falkner’s Mercurial Fortunes
Sunday, August 4, 2019
Sugarbomb's "Bully:" Pick On Someone Else
Review and discussion of Sugarbomb’s 2001 release Bully
This was a 2003 top ten album (in retrospect)
Keep an eye out for a review of Bully’s "sister" album Tsar.
Tuesday, July 16, 2019
The Jellyfish Family Tree Part 9: Puffy Ami Yumi, Where's Andy?
Wednesday, April 4, 2018
Spring Roundup Part 1: Dinner Music
It makes me incredibly happy to say that I received an obscene amount of music for Christmas and my birthday this year. So much, in fact, that getting acquainted with it all well enough to generate commentary with any kind of confidence has taken the better part of the past few months. Now, however, I am at the point at which addressing them all, even in a generalized roundup, would result in a prohibitively long post. Additionally, the longer the lapse in the posting, the more unruly catching up seems. What to do?
After spending some time with all this music during my commute, I started to notice that loose categories began emerge. These categories were partially based on style, but also arose in the music’s everyday functionality. For example, some music seemed appropriate after the kids had gone to sleep, while others were far too abrasive to get much airplay in any other setting than the privacy of my car. To break down this overwhelming influx of music, I will post a series of roundups according to these categories.
For example, dinner time in our house is one of the rare occasions in the course of the day that the whole family has a chance to sit down and enjoy each other’s company. Thanks to the Netflix series Beat Bugs, my kids have grown to love the music of the Beatles, so I curated a playlist based on their favorite songs, It has dominated dinner time for the majority of the year. This set the tone for a category I have come to call Dinner Music, which has evolved into a showcase for newly discovered power pop, relatively accessible songwriting-based music, and, of course, the Beatles.
Danny De La Matyr - Crybaby: Danny was the primary songwriter behind one of my favorite bands of the 90s Dallas scene, The Days, so I was very excited when I heard about his recent solo album. It is, however, disappointing in that it is marred by distractingly flat production.
Dawes - We’re All Gonna Die: Dedicated Dawes fans have raised a bit of commotion about the stylistic direction on the band’s most recent release. We’re All Gonna Die is decisively more rock-oriented than its predecessors, but it is not as jarringly different as reviewers might suggest.
Shugo Tokumaru - In Focus?: In Focus? is a super-eclectic take on pop-styled songwriting, occupying a unique place on the spectrum between Sean Lennon. and Frank Zappa. Despite its unapologetic eccentricity, the album holds together as a fun and and challenging listen.
Field Music - Open Here: Each of Field Music’s albums have become increasingly grand and sweeping in their scale. Open Here continues this trend, with liberal use of strings and other orchestral instruments sidling up beside some of their most accessible and political work.
After spending some time with all this music during my commute, I started to notice that loose categories began emerge. These categories were partially based on style, but also arose in the music’s everyday functionality. For example, some music seemed appropriate after the kids had gone to sleep, while others were far too abrasive to get much airplay in any other setting than the privacy of my car. To break down this overwhelming influx of music, I will post a series of roundups according to these categories.
For example, dinner time in our house is one of the rare occasions in the course of the day that the whole family has a chance to sit down and enjoy each other’s company. Thanks to the Netflix series Beat Bugs, my kids have grown to love the music of the Beatles, so I curated a playlist based on their favorite songs, It has dominated dinner time for the majority of the year. This set the tone for a category I have come to call Dinner Music, which has evolved into a showcase for newly discovered power pop, relatively accessible songwriting-based music, and, of course, the Beatles.
Danny De La Matyr - Crybaby: Danny was the primary songwriter behind one of my favorite bands of the 90s Dallas scene, The Days, so I was very excited when I heard about his recent solo album. It is, however, disappointing in that it is marred by distractingly flat production.
Dawes - We’re All Gonna Die: Dedicated Dawes fans have raised a bit of commotion about the stylistic direction on the band’s most recent release. We’re All Gonna Die is decisively more rock-oriented than its predecessors, but it is not as jarringly different as reviewers might suggest.
Shugo Tokumaru - In Focus?: In Focus? is a super-eclectic take on pop-styled songwriting, occupying a unique place on the spectrum between Sean Lennon. and Frank Zappa. Despite its unapologetic eccentricity, the album holds together as a fun and and challenging listen.
Field Music - Open Here: Each of Field Music’s albums have become increasingly grand and sweeping in their scale. Open Here continues this trend, with liberal use of strings and other orchestral instruments sidling up beside some of their most accessible and political work.
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
Flashback to the Oughts: 2005
Every year since I started this blog, I put myself through a soul-wrenching struggle to create a satisfying “best-of” list. I don’t have too much trouble coming up with representative entries. That aspect is mostly a matter of record-keeping, which kind of takes care of itself in the process of writing. Ordering these titles in a way that will stand the test of time, however, is a bit more difficult. Occasionally, some albums that I have ranked very highly in their respective years have not come off of the shelf much since, while other lower ranked entries and honorable mentions have proven to be more durable.
Creating a “best-of” list retroactively for a year gone by is no less problematic, but the issues of accuracy and durability seem to be inverted. This is especially the case in the early oughts, as record stores were still kind of a thing. If I did not purchase an album on Amazon back then, I have few definitive calendrical references for what I was listening to and when. The slippery nature of memory resists definitive sequencing, making accuracy a primary concern. Once I can sketch out a clear picture of what was in rotation during a given year, however, hindsight allows these selections to fall into order relatively easily.
The list for 2005, however, has been probably the biggest struggle yet. The records from that year hang in between online purchases and record store walk-ins. Stitching these together with my memory episodes was particularly difficult because I was existing at the crossroads between being a band director, a graduate student in ethnomusicology, and being increasingly involved in my "significant other's" world.
10. Green Carnation - Light of Day, Day of Darkness: I listened to this hour-long track a whole lot in 2005 on my old Zen player as I walked to Cross-Cultural Ensemble rehearsal with my Stick strapped across my back. Although I have not listened to it much since, upon revision I found it pleasantly familiar, if a bit thin in the production department.
10. Green Carnation - Light of Day, Day of Darkness: I listened to this hour-long track a whole lot in 2005 on my old Zen player as I walked to Cross-Cultural Ensemble rehearsal with my Stick strapped across my back. Although I have not listened to it much since, upon revision I found it pleasantly familiar, if a bit thin in the production department.
9. Porcupine Tree - Deadwing: Although it may not be apparent from Lazarus, which is included above, Deadwing was Porcupine Tree’s heaviest album to date. It also followed their most commercially successful album and I have always felt that the writing, which is still more nuanced than most, suffered a bit under the burden of following its standard.
8. Panjabi MC - Beware: By 2005, my ethnomusicological studies had given me a deepened appreciation for intercultural popular music and a growing interest in the music of India. Not only did Beware sit at the intersection of these two fields, it was catchy enough to win over my significant other.
7. The New Pornographers - Twin Cinema: Although I had been introduced to The New Pornographers during my late 90's power pop jag, it was 2005 before I wandered into a record store in Massachusetts and picked up Twin Cinema. I have been a staunch advocate ever since.
6. Frank Zappa - Studio Tan: Zappa’s music was always finding its way from used CD bins into my collection during the oughts, so although his music was ever-present, it is nearly impossible to unravel specific dates. I do know for certain, however, that I took a Summer class on the music of Frank Zappa in 2005 and Studio Tan was in heavy rotation during that time, along with Broadway the Hard Way and several volumes of the You Can’t Do That on Stage Anymore series.
5. Fountains of Wayne - Utopia Parkway: Perhaps one of the best post-Jellyfish power pop albums in my collection, mostly because it is stylistically distinct. For the most part, Fountains of Wayne relies on outstanding songwriting more than overt semiotic nostalgia for their success.
4. Ramnad Krishnan - Vidwan: Music of South India: Songs of the Carnatic Tradition: On the suggestion of my Indian music teacher, this was the first album of Indian classical music that I ever purchased. Although I started unpacking it in 2005, I am still unraveling its nuances.
4. Ramnad Krishnan - Vidwan: Music of South India: Songs of the Carnatic Tradition: On the suggestion of my Indian music teacher, this was the first album of Indian classical music that I ever purchased. Although I started unpacking it in 2005, I am still unraveling its nuances.
3. Rumah Sakit - Rumah Sakit: To this day, the details about Rumah Sakit remain vague - they are references to them everywhere, but it is difficult to pin down their origins and history. Nevertheless, my expanding appreciation for rhythmic complexity in Indian music allowed this album to spark my interest in so-called "math rock."
2. The White Stripes - Elephant: In direct contrast to all of the deeply complex stuff I was into in 2005, Elephant's focus on low-technique rock songwriting rose to the top of the heap. Pardon the video in the playlist, by the way - I will always remember showing that to the Pop Music and American Culture class I was TA for a couple of years later.
Album of the Year: 2005
1. Brendan Benson - The Alternative to Love: Although I was a fan of Brendan Benson's since One Mississippi, this album convinced me that he could do no wrong as a songwriter. There isn't a single dud in the bunch.Saturday, May 6, 2017
Flashback to the Oughts: 2004
2004 was a year of beginnings that were fueled by equal parts confidence and, if I am honest with myself, delusion. At the end of the previous year, I acquired a Chapman Stick, and the practice that I had been using as therapy started to manifest in some real musical output. Determined to master this non-traditional instrument and use it to somehow subvert academia, I began coursework for a Master’s degree in Ethnomusicology. My studies included jazz improv courses and a seminar in global pop music, both of which began to further diversify my listening.
At the same time, I continued to teach out at Krum. The breadth of these new experiences make connecting the dots between my memory episodes and the reality of the calendar particularly confusing. My propensity to listen to older albums or to let albums simmer for a while complicates matters further. I’ve had to refer to school records, Amazon shipping statements, and even dates on old pictures to flesh out specifics. Still, after toying around with my memory and all available information, the 2004 list is, like its predecessors, a good representation of what I was into at the time.
This project is making me realize the extent to which memory episodes resist lining themselves up in neat chronological order. They seem to arise in vivid flashes as I revisit this music, bringing to mind seemingly random events that must then be categorized. This all might seem to be more trouble than its worth, but organizing my life story by the music that I surround myself with has, in recent years, emerged as a satisfying narrative in this blog.
10 The Drowners - Think of Me: I continued a steady diet of inexpensive power pop albums throughout 2004, many of which were unremarkable. The Drowners’ Swedish identity provided a unique perspective on the style that was slick and compelling.
9 Muse - Absolution: It has been a rare occasion for me to favorably compare any band to Rush. In 2004, however, I discovered Absolution, which earned Muse that distinction for a time by virtue of its accessible songs, impressive chops, and intense energy.
8 Blackfield - Blackfield: I supported Porcupine Tree’s move towards heavier and more identifiably progressive territory, but part of me missed Steven Wilson's relatively straightforward songwriting on Stupid Dream. Blackfield became the place where I could get my fix.
7 The Decemberists - Her Majesty the Decemberists: I saw The Decemberists in Denton on a lark, without ever hearing a note of their music, one night in 2004. Their show was impressive, and within 24 hours, Her Majesty the Decemberists had the dubious honor of being one of the few albums that I uploaded through ITunes in its earlier iteration.
6 Green Day - American Idiot: I saw American Idiot as the 21sy century Tommy - a punk rock opera of resistance for the Bush administration. Alas, within a few years Green Day would jump the shark with this great album and run it as a broadway musical, but at the time it was quite the statement.
5 The Trey Gunn Band - The Joy of Molybdenum: As I was getting more and more into transcription, I started making more of an effort to find other Stick and touchstyle guitar players that I felt a connection with. Gunn’s style was, and still is, a baffling exploitation of the instrument’s affordances, but his melodicism and conceptual adventurousness makes him one of my favorite players and The Joy of Molybdenum remains my favorite of his solo works.
4. Miles Davis - Kind of Blue: I owned Kind of Blue for decades, but in retrospect, I had never really engaged it beyond mere background music. Transcribing solos from it for an improv class changed all that, however, and provided me with a deep appreciation for the clarity of Davis’ ideas.
3 Brian Wilson - SMiLE: Brian Wilson finally released the long awaited follow-up to Pet Sounds in 2004 with compelling results. The tour that followed provided one of the best live shows I had ever seen.
2. Fela Kuti - Zombie: A seminar in Global Popular Music fleshed out my understanding of Fela and his unique political position. I ended up getting several Fela albums this year, but Zombie remains the best of the bunch.
1. Opeth - Damnation: Opeth’s one-off experiment in melodic melancholy would, in hindsight, serve to pivot them from their black metal roots into their current progressive rock incarnation. In itself, however, it remains a unique masterpiece in their catalog.
At the same time, I continued to teach out at Krum. The breadth of these new experiences make connecting the dots between my memory episodes and the reality of the calendar particularly confusing. My propensity to listen to older albums or to let albums simmer for a while complicates matters further. I’ve had to refer to school records, Amazon shipping statements, and even dates on old pictures to flesh out specifics. Still, after toying around with my memory and all available information, the 2004 list is, like its predecessors, a good representation of what I was into at the time.
This project is making me realize the extent to which memory episodes resist lining themselves up in neat chronological order. They seem to arise in vivid flashes as I revisit this music, bringing to mind seemingly random events that must then be categorized. This all might seem to be more trouble than its worth, but organizing my life story by the music that I surround myself with has, in recent years, emerged as a satisfying narrative in this blog.
10 The Drowners - Think of Me: I continued a steady diet of inexpensive power pop albums throughout 2004, many of which were unremarkable. The Drowners’ Swedish identity provided a unique perspective on the style that was slick and compelling.
9 Muse - Absolution: It has been a rare occasion for me to favorably compare any band to Rush. In 2004, however, I discovered Absolution, which earned Muse that distinction for a time by virtue of its accessible songs, impressive chops, and intense energy.
8 Blackfield - Blackfield: I supported Porcupine Tree’s move towards heavier and more identifiably progressive territory, but part of me missed Steven Wilson's relatively straightforward songwriting on Stupid Dream. Blackfield became the place where I could get my fix.
7 The Decemberists - Her Majesty the Decemberists: I saw The Decemberists in Denton on a lark, without ever hearing a note of their music, one night in 2004. Their show was impressive, and within 24 hours, Her Majesty the Decemberists had the dubious honor of being one of the few albums that I uploaded through ITunes in its earlier iteration.
6 Green Day - American Idiot: I saw American Idiot as the 21sy century Tommy - a punk rock opera of resistance for the Bush administration. Alas, within a few years Green Day would jump the shark with this great album and run it as a broadway musical, but at the time it was quite the statement.
5 The Trey Gunn Band - The Joy of Molybdenum: As I was getting more and more into transcription, I started making more of an effort to find other Stick and touchstyle guitar players that I felt a connection with. Gunn’s style was, and still is, a baffling exploitation of the instrument’s affordances, but his melodicism and conceptual adventurousness makes him one of my favorite players and The Joy of Molybdenum remains my favorite of his solo works.
4. Miles Davis - Kind of Blue: I owned Kind of Blue for decades, but in retrospect, I had never really engaged it beyond mere background music. Transcribing solos from it for an improv class changed all that, however, and provided me with a deep appreciation for the clarity of Davis’ ideas.
2. Fela Kuti - Zombie: A seminar in Global Popular Music fleshed out my understanding of Fela and his unique political position. I ended up getting several Fela albums this year, but Zombie remains the best of the bunch.
Album of the Year: 2004
1. Opeth - Damnation: Opeth’s one-off experiment in melodic melancholy would, in hindsight, serve to pivot them from their black metal roots into their current progressive rock incarnation. In itself, however, it remains a unique masterpiece in their catalog.
Monday, April 24, 2017
Flashback to the Oughts: 2003
The trials of 2002 left me somewhat adrift, but by 2003, I started making some long-term goals for myself. The biggest one of these was the acquisition of a Chapman Stick, which I began relentlessly shedding on as a form of therapy. I felt like I had an intensely clear vision for the instrument, and I was determined to become its master.
I moved into a one bedroom apartment off the Denton square with a new, more secure sense of self. I experimented with bachelorhood and dated around a little while. When I stopped trying so hard, I found myself in a positive relationship that continues to evolve to this day (love ya, dear!).
I moved into a one bedroom apartment off the Denton square with a new, more secure sense of self. I experimented with bachelorhood and dated around a little while. When I stopped trying so hard, I found myself in a positive relationship that continues to evolve to this day (love ya, dear!).
In retrospect, however, my attitude had a selfish undercurrent that would later manifest into some negative behaviors. Regardless, it is fair to say that I was in a much better place than I had been in a long time. As a result, the 2003 best-of list is generally more upbeat in tone than the one from 2002.
10. Magma - Mekanik Destruktiw Kommandoh: But first, nothing acknowledges that sinister, self-indulgent side more than Mekanik Destruktiw Kommandoh, which sounds like what would happen if Frank Zappa was commissioned to write a Klingon Opera. Clearly not the most lighthearted entry for 2003, but its virtuosity and electrifying performances kept it in rotation for a good part of the year.
9. The Darkness - Permission to Land: I realize The Darkness was a one-trick pony, but the trick was really, really good. Permission to Land was both a reverent commentary on what was great about 80’s hair metal and an irresistible collection of fun, crunchy songs.
8. O.S.I. - The Office of Strategic Influence: One of Mike Portnoy's many side projects, this one with ex-Dream Theater keyboardist Kevin Moore and Fates Warning guitarist Jim Matheos. O.S.I. captured a broader spectrum of moods and textures than the prog-metal pedigree of its lineup might suggest.
7. Owsley - Owsley: William Owsley only recorded a couple of albums before his apparent suicide in 2010. A look as his resume shows him to be an incredibly talented songwriter and session musician, but a listen to his album reveals him to also be tragically overlooked as an artist in his own right.
6. Radiohead - Hail to the Thief: Radiohead had been toying with a more electronic sound for awhile by the time Hail to the Thief came out, so I found its more prominent use of guitar alluring. It certainly did not recapture the magic of OK Computer or The Bends, but it felt more like Radiohead “the band” than Radiohead “the project.”
5. Tsar - Tsar: I ran across several inspiring power pop albums in 2003, and Tsar was among the best. It, along with Sugarbomb’s Bully, rekindled my belief that the style was still alive, well, and surprisingly affordable through the Amazon Marketplace.
4. The Mars Volta - De-Loused in the Comatorium: This little piece of nu-prog chaos came out of nowhere and, in any other year, probably would have taken album of the year. In any case, the success of this album would propel my interest in The Mars Volta throughout the rest of their career.
3. Kevin Gilbert - Thud: If there was any question as to the incredible depth of Kevin Gilbert’s unique genius after his posthumous rock opera The Shaming of the True, Thud lays it to rest. While his unique progressive pop style obviously resonated with me, I found Gilbert’s lyrics refreshingly genuine and, at times, devastatingly honest.
2. Sugarbomb - Bully: I often perceived Tsar as the B-side to this amazing and overlooked gem. Bully, with its ebullient energy, bittersweet lyrics, and excellent production, was in constant play throughout this year and well into the next.
Album of the Year: 2003
1. King Crimson - The Power to Believe: King Crimson’s final studio album is, I feel, still one of their best. Where The ConstruKCtion of Light was a bit obvious in the way it aligned itself with the band’s back catalog, I would argue that The Power to Believe captured the essence of the band’s past successes and forged an entirely new interpolation of the group.
Wednesday, July 13, 2016
The Best Laid Plans: Everything Everything's "Get to Heaven"
I don’t drink or binge shop or other things that people characteristically do when on a boat for a week, but the part of me that likes to stand on the beach and stare out at the ocean really, really likes cruise life. Last week, I was lucky enough to go on a 7 day trek at sea with my extended family, and I was really looking forward to getting my Father's Day music on the phone, circumambulating the decks, and pondering existence.
Not all music works well in all settings, however, particularly when the entire family is involved. I have to be somewhat sensitive if I am to continue assaulting them with my compulsive listening habits. Out of kindness to them, I did not lean too hard on the new Kayo Dot release, but a cursory spin of Everything Everything’s Get to Heaven definitely caught my attention. The album's production is immediately punchy, and lead man Jonathan Higgs has a falsetto that just won't quit. I suspected that the band's quirky, colorful take on British pop would get the whole family moving in their seats.
I was sooo right.
Everything Everything is, in essence, a pop band, and as such they hang their accessibility on great, memorable hooks. There are, however, theatrical excursions and hidden complexities incorporated in their songs that move away from these central ideas and returns to them in very musically satisfying ways. The album’s adventurous musicality never detracts, however, and despite being incredibly diverse, the songs still remain coherent and just plain fun to listen to. I looked forward to absorbing the entire album poolside.
Which I was able to do.....to an extent. Within 48 hours, I was, indeed, poolside with Get to Heaven on the player, but I was also in charge of watching P as she played in the kids area. As a result, my attention was mostly divided as I watched her splash around and make new friends on the boat. It was not quite the focused listen that I had envisioned, but the album’s dancehall overtones layered well with the overall vibe. Especially this relentlessly infectious gem:
Everything Everything is able to bear the weight of decades of british pop on their shoulders with relative grace. They inhabit a spectrum that juxtaposes the introspective pop-prog of early Radiohead with the slightly goofy textures of The Gorillaz, perhaps like what would happen if Damon Albarn took a turn singing for Level 42. I was just considering the implications of this proposed polarity on the dissonance between the album’s sunny musical exterior and the sometimes melancholy nature of its lyrics when catastrophe struck.
We engaged in an almost comical struggle to keep our cabin organized, and in the midst of clean, gently worn, and dirty clothes, I lost my earphones. Bummer.
Music was suddenly confined to our cabin, which kind of put a damper on my plans to walk the decks and pontificate as I had on my previous cruise experience. Kayo Dot would have to wait. By this time, however, Get to Heaven had evolved into a family favorite, and I would play some of the more energetic tracks to generate daily spontaneous dance parties in the cabin.
P currently describes Distant Past as her "favorite song," although she, along with my wife, really enjoy Get to Heaven in its entirety. Admittedly. a few songs seem to be framed as "singles," but the album's most disarming feature is its consistency. There really isn't a bad track in the bunch, although there might be a few perceived "lulls" after particularly spectacular moments. Taken on their own, however, these songs are still fantastically creative while retaining their accessibility, which is always a recipe for success in my book.
Not all music works well in all settings, however, particularly when the entire family is involved. I have to be somewhat sensitive if I am to continue assaulting them with my compulsive listening habits. Out of kindness to them, I did not lean too hard on the new Kayo Dot release, but a cursory spin of Everything Everything’s Get to Heaven definitely caught my attention. The album's production is immediately punchy, and lead man Jonathan Higgs has a falsetto that just won't quit. I suspected that the band's quirky, colorful take on British pop would get the whole family moving in their seats.
I was sooo right.
Everything Everything is, in essence, a pop band, and as such they hang their accessibility on great, memorable hooks. There are, however, theatrical excursions and hidden complexities incorporated in their songs that move away from these central ideas and returns to them in very musically satisfying ways. The album’s adventurous musicality never detracts, however, and despite being incredibly diverse, the songs still remain coherent and just plain fun to listen to. I looked forward to absorbing the entire album poolside.
Which I was able to do.....to an extent. Within 48 hours, I was, indeed, poolside with Get to Heaven on the player, but I was also in charge of watching P as she played in the kids area. As a result, my attention was mostly divided as I watched her splash around and make new friends on the boat. It was not quite the focused listen that I had envisioned, but the album’s dancehall overtones layered well with the overall vibe. Especially this relentlessly infectious gem:
Everything Everything is able to bear the weight of decades of british pop on their shoulders with relative grace. They inhabit a spectrum that juxtaposes the introspective pop-prog of early Radiohead with the slightly goofy textures of The Gorillaz, perhaps like what would happen if Damon Albarn took a turn singing for Level 42. I was just considering the implications of this proposed polarity on the dissonance between the album’s sunny musical exterior and the sometimes melancholy nature of its lyrics when catastrophe struck.
We engaged in an almost comical struggle to keep our cabin organized, and in the midst of clean, gently worn, and dirty clothes, I lost my earphones. Bummer.
Music was suddenly confined to our cabin, which kind of put a damper on my plans to walk the decks and pontificate as I had on my previous cruise experience. Kayo Dot would have to wait. By this time, however, Get to Heaven had evolved into a family favorite, and I would play some of the more energetic tracks to generate daily spontaneous dance parties in the cabin.
P currently describes Distant Past as her "favorite song," although she, along with my wife, really enjoy Get to Heaven in its entirety. Admittedly. a few songs seem to be framed as "singles," but the album's most disarming feature is its consistency. There really isn't a bad track in the bunch, although there might be a few perceived "lulls" after particularly spectacular moments. Taken on their own, however, these songs are still fantastically creative while retaining their accessibility, which is always a recipe for success in my book.
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