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April 29, 2008

Now That's Disgusting Music (R.I.P.) | 1990-2008

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Sad word came down today, via P-fork, that Beggars Group imprints Too Pure and Beggars Banquet have been absorbed into 4AD. Stereolab’s next album will arrive on August 19th sporting 4AD and Duophonic logos. Sayonara, l’il Too Pure arrow. You’ll be missed.

Favorite Too Pure moments:

Seefeel, “More Like Space.” From start to finish, pretty damn breathtaking. My favorite release from Seefeel. Yes, even moreso than Quique. So sue me!

MP3.jpgSeefeel, “More Like Space”

PJ Harvey, Dry. I would argue that Rid of Me is Peej’s true masterpiece, her startling, brazen hat trick. But it was Dry that introduced her raw, unique perspective to the world. I still remember where I was when I heard “Dress.” I went out and bought the album the next day.

MP3.jpgPJ Harvey, “Dress”

Mouse on Mars, "Frosch/room." Until 1994, I was decidedly on the guitar-rock side of the fence. Seefeel helped to get my incremental mental paradigm shift towards electronic music rolling, and Mouse on Mars finished the job. Their music was witty, warm, and elastically inventive in a way that I hadn’t suspected electronic music to be capable of.

And, with the addition of powerhouse drummer Dodo Nkishi, their live performances ended up being more fun than a barrel full of knob-twiddlers. (No disrespect meant to any knob-twiddlers out there.)

As evidenced by their recent collaboration with Mark E Smith, Von Südenfed, they remain as radical and wry as ever. (When I once asked them how they’d gotten to the UK from their native Germany, Jan, by way of reply, simply mimed the side stroke.)

MP3.jpgMouse on Mars, “Froschroom”


Laika, Silver Apples of the Moon.
I interned at too pure in the fall of 1994. So, if you happen to have a copy of “Silver Apples” with the original artwork —complete with hand-affixed customs labels and facsimile stamps— there’s a slight chance it was my handiwork. (Self-adhesive stamp technology has come a long way since those dark days.)

MP3.jpgLaika, “Spider Happy Hour”

Stereolab, “Seeperbold.” My favorite Stereolab songs have traditionally been one-offs and freebies of the sort that either get sold on tour or show up on, say, cassette tapes affixed to the front of Melody Maker (or was it NME?). “Seeperbold” is no exception. The way Laetitia rhymes “comatos-e” with “moros-e” here never fails to crack me up for some reason.

MP3.jpgStereolab, “Seeperbold.”

Electrelane. I only got to see Electrelane once, opening in San Francisco for Broadcast. Now, I adore Broadcast. But putting Electrelane on before them was somewhat unfair, because their retro-futuristic, somewhat wistful music came off pallidly next to Electrelane’s exhilarating harmonic convergences.

I do hope the shake-up at 4AD hasn’t also shaken Verity Susman’s solo project Vera November loose. (Her “Jive” is my favorite unreleased single since forever —a jumpin’ juke-joint holler and all-around joyful blast. AAAA!)

MP3.jpgElectrelane, “Only One Thing is Needed”

Long Fin Killie; Bows, "TFM." Luke Sutherland’s work for Too Pure seemed to me perpetually (and unfairly) overlooked. His work erred on the side of quiet, subtle, and sly, with a marked lack of ego. It was that lack of ego that enabled Sutherland—a brilliant writer with a polymath’s gift for picking up every instrument from violin to bouzouki— to inhabit a vivid panoply of voices, turning each song into a fully imagined pocket world, beautifully shaped and turned out with poetic precision. If anything, his short-lived project Bows, a collaboration between Sutherland, Scottish musician Ruth Emond, and Norwegian singer Signe Hoirup Wille-Jorgensen , was even more exquisite than its predecessor Long Fin Killie.

MP3.jpgLong Fin Killie, “Hollywood Gem” (1995)

MP3.jpgBows, “TFM”(from the Britannica EP, 1999)

Kick it old school with too pure founder Paul Cox' history of the label. Then Go forth and buy lovely things at the too pure shop | Then go & express your profound displeasure to the folks at Beggars USA.

PHOTO BY ANDREA | HIGHBURY CORNER, 2007

April 19, 2008

Room with a FU

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Talk about brutal irony: this year’s Record Store Day happens to coincide with the opening of John Varvatos' Bowery boutique. Varvatos’ name may not mean much to you, but his pricey menswear shop just happens to be taking over the site of the former CBGBs.

After years of legal battles and fundraisers, CBs finally closed its doors last summer, putting an end to one of the most storied clubs in New York City history. (CB’s owner Hilly Kristal passed away soon after.) Varvatos —who bills himself as a “rock n’roll designer” and populates his ad campaigns with the likes of Iggy Pop and Cheap Trick— has renovated the space with a great sense of respect, keeping the graffitied and flyered walls intact, selling CDs by acts from CB’s heyday, and giving the Soho gallery treatment to framed covers of PUNK and NY Rocker. (There’s even a “Gabba Gabba Hey” sign on the back wall.)

But all of this sticks in the craw of New Yorkers fed up with the egregious Yuppification of the Bowery —the worst contender (by far) being the ostentatious Bowery Hotel, with its Studio 54-esque velvet rope and Robber Baron-luxe décor. (Second in line: the New Museum’s robotic façade with its rainbow-hued, cartoonishly chipper “Hell Yes!”)

The Bowery is one of the last frontiers for the increasingly pitched battle between those who want to keep New York accessible and those who want to keep pushing real estate prices into the stratosphere. For now, the wholesalers remain, but for how long?

Getting back to the plight of the record stores: the Bowery’s own Downtown Music Gallery (342 Bowery) is facing a potential move thanks to an untenable rent hike. Open since 1991, this scruffy shop carries some of the most adventurous music there is, with special attention paid to downtown musicians. (For instance, they sell the limited edition releases from John Zorn’s artist-curated club the Stone.)

Home in Providence, every single one of Thayer Street’s record stores has shuttered its doors. I knew the end was nigh for the last holdout, Tom’s Tracks, when a slightly desperate sign exclaiming, “Now selling comics!” appeared in their window. (Have comics ever been a lucrative cash-cow?)

Gone are the days of going spelunking for dusty rarities in basements and crammed storefronts. Now it’s all moved online, thanks to Gemm, ebay, and Dusty Groove. The plus side is that all these rarities are but a click away. The down side is that the thrill of the hunt —searching high and low for that Aurobindo record, or Kid Congo’s first EP— has been replaced with a somewhat dispiriting mouse-click on a PayPal button. Plus ça change…

I leave you with a trio of downtown favorites, Talking Heads, Kid Congo, and the (soon-to-be-reunited) Feelies

MP3.jpgThe Feelies, “Loveless Love” (from Crazy Rhythms)

MP3.jpgTalking Heads, “Drugs” (from Fear of Music)

MP3.jpgKid Congo Powers, “La Historia de un Amor” (from Solo Cholo)

PHOTO: RIP, HILLY.

April 10, 2008

Klaus Dinger, 1946-2008

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The other night I’d just finished reading a bittersweet interview with half of Neu!, Michael Rother, when I learned that his partner in Neu!, Klaus Dinger, had passed away of heart failure just shy of his 62nd birthday.

It seemed vividly clear from Rother's comments in his recent Invisible Jukebox that, although his relationship with Dinger had become incredibly strained over the years, a great deal of fondness remained between the two longtime collaborators. As Rother wrote on his website:“I will remember Klaus for his creativity as an artist and I will think about him with gratitude for his wonderful contributions to our project Neu!.”

Dinger is particularly credited with originating the propulsive “motorik” beat of classic Krautrock, a joyous and trance-inducing —yet slightly sinister— expansive groove-mantra beloved of taste-makers everywhere, from Bowie and Eno to Stereolab, John Frusciante to the Wooden Shjips.

If you’re curious to know what Neu! sound like, Damon Albarn's description lends the group a curiously (and slightly unearned) Tropicalismo flair: “When I listen to Neu! I think of a Germany where the autobahn is a thousand miles of golden white sands and the sound systems hang in the banana trees, instead of speedtraps and bratwurst.” Brian Eno, Mr. Oblique Strategies himself, inched a bit closer with his description of Dinger's alienated funk rhythms: "There were three great beats in the 70s: Fela Kuti's Afrobeat, James Brown's funk, and Klaus Dinger's Neu! beat."

Better yet, you could just have a listen. Nine minutes may sound like a long time, but Neu! time passes in the blink of an eye, a delirious swirl of color and mind-bending tricks of the light. Talk about the in-sound from way-out.

Klaus Dinger [Wiki] | Neu! [Amazon] | Michael Rother | Groenland [home to Neu! reissues]

MP3.jpg Ciccone Youth, “Two Cool Rock Chicks Listening to Neu!” (from The Whitey Album)

MP3.jpgNeu!, “Negativeland” (from Neu!, 1972)

MP3.jpgStereolab, “We’re Not Adult Orientated (Neu Wave)” (from Space Age Bachelor Pad Music)

NEU!: MICHAEL ROTHER (LEFT) AND KLAUS DINGER (RIGHT) | PHOTO BY THOMAS DINGER

April 07, 2008

Kim Deal Appreciation Day!

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In honor of Kim Deal’s all-around awesomeness (and the brand-new Breeders album, Mountain Battles), it’s Kim Deal Appreciation Day here at Warped Reality.

Hindsight is 20/20, and it seems pretty damn clear in retrospect that the dissolution of the Pixies had a great deal to do with Kim Deal’s effortless ascension into her own spotlight.

Deal slowly but surely came to ground the group’s wilder flights of fancy: her driving, concise basslines and honeyed vocals stood out as the unerring calm to Black Francis’ jagged, pitch-black squalls. It was this finely calibrated balance, ironically enough, that pulled the Pixies back from the brink more than once, reining in their frontman’s hyper-kinetic abrasiveness and pushing their peculiar, often surreal sound into the stratosphere. But it also pulled the group apart, sowing the seeds of jealousy and miscommunication.

When Deal (predictably) went off on her own to found the indie supergroup the Breeders, it seemed inevitable that she’d finally become a star in her own right. And, in what was a thrilling triumph of substance over style, she did just that, scoring a genuine hit with “Cannonball” off of 1993’s Last Splash. The year punk broke. Smash your head on the punk rock. Ka-ching!

That New Year’s Eve, the Breeders triumphantly rang in the New Year on MTV, Kim Deal’s gleeful insouciance that much cooler because it seemed so wonderfully genuine. No stylists made her over. You’d never catch her yo-yo dieting. She scribbled out stray gray hairs with Sharpies. She smoked and drank and made snarky (unprintable) comments. And through it all, she played music as head-bangingly glorious as it was fizzy and sweet —propulsively giddy, jagged little pop rocks.

It’s been a whirlwind since then, but after numerous ups and downs —including lineup changes, rehab stints, and (Pixies) reunions— the Breeders are back.

And it’s about time.

The last time I saw them was in San Francisco, circa Title TK. While the beer onstage had been replaced by Starbucks, and Kim was no longer able to stick her cigarette between the frets in her guitar to smolder away between songs (damn smoking ordinances), that did little to dim the group’s high-wattage enthusiasm. They were more than ready right out of the starting gate, equal parts sloppy and genius. After all, it’s one of Kim’s many virtues that she’s never exactly on point —she (and, consequently, the group) are always a little off. But that’s perfect too—it suits her to a tee.

Here’s to you, Kim.

4AD/Mountain Battles | The Breeders on Myspace

MP3.jpgThe Breeders, “We’re Gonna Rise” (from Mountain Battles, 2007)

MP3.jpgthe Breeders, “Overcome” (with Carrie Bradley, from the Pod demos)

MP3.jpgthe Breeders, “Head To Toe” (co-written by Diana Senechal)