Good song. I don't really hear the Sufjan comparison, but it's hard to say who else he reminds me of. Whatever, I like it, and will now start trying to track down some more to see if the first impression holds. Thanks.
P.S. From your previous posts, I thought most of the stuff you played was significantly weirder, in a less-tolerable sense. Maybe I'll finally listen to your show.
You will find Mr Longstreth's music under the name "Dirty Projectors", in case that wasn't clear from the post or ID3 information. (Really the comparison is based almost entirely on the "rise above" repetitions by the woman singers towards the end, and other songs than that one; he's used more woodwindy stuff on other albums.)
As for your postscript, well. When will people learn that my shows are enjoyable by all?
This is awesome! Thanks!
(Sorry for the indistinguishable name. I don't know the naming conventions for lurkers.)
Ryuichi Sakamoto? Huh. I haven't heard anything of his in years, but I was under the impression that he sucked. Perhaps you'll convince me otherwise.
Ben, one of these days when I submit to an actual broadband connection, I will listen to your show. Not just because you're you, or because I suspect that the music you air might be of interest to me, but because you have said:
Angels of Light
I confess to a soft spot for "Forbidden Colours".
His albums with Fennesz are extremely minimal.
The concept behind the "rise above" album cracks me up:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rise_Above_(Dirty_Projectors)
Black Flag was really good live.
What's to loathe about Bottom of the Hill? Assuming it's not just misplaced loathing for the 22-Fillmore.
I have nothing but luv for the 22.
I don't like the Bottom of the Hill because it's too big and there's nowhere to sit. Basically the only venues I like are those where there's a place to sit. This is why I like 21 Grand so much.
Another reason to like 21 Grand.
Corn Mo plays a pretty interesting show.
8:
sandwhiched
Teo. Teo teo teo. Clearly this was intentional on Ben's part.
It has to do with, uh, how he'll be sandwhiched among the others who are forced to stand up the whole while at the loathed venue.
I didn't say anything about it. I just noted it without comment.
I originally noted it without comment.
(please to delete a few amused sentences about the very nature of this commenting without comment that teo proposes.)
There's commenting and then there's commenting. If you see what I mean.
Do they still have barbecues at BotH? Those rock. Anyway, you can sit outside. That's what smoking is for.
Oh, and given that I've declared the unfunny joke thread dead, I feel obliged to post my horrible band name idea here: it's a CB4 cover band, with Ian Curtis-style vocals. I call it: Mitosis.
It is somehow so pathetic, yet so right, that I find 16 hysterically funny.
Uh, Ben... The melodious accessibility of it is precisely what makes Sufjan so likable. Convert that into dissonant inaccessibility, and what do you have left -- Velvet Underground on a really bad acid trip?
Well, I like the melodious accessibility of Sufjan Stevens, thank you. In fact, the nostalgic quality of the whole swelling strings pretty-pretty is precisely what I like about it. But then I like hippie pizza as well. Also, I was born in Illinois, of course.
Back when my set thought this kind of thing was the very heighth of hip, I had a friend who did lounge versions of Black Flag.
Seriously, I will crib from the fantastic and politically spot-on Mark K-Punk (although I can't find the damn post and am both oversimplifying and almost-inevitably misrepresenting it) and say that there is something both gendered and problematic in the obscure/arty/noise assumption that harshness and inaccessibility are the very criteria of worth.
Which is not a criticism, per se, of the specific song under discussion.
What is gendered about the assumption that worth = inaccessibility? Problematic, perhaps, in the obvious elitist sense, but gendered?
Consider what we will for-the-moment call "record nerd" culture, even though that's not really appropriate to contemporary technology. I do believe that the norms of record-nerdom are tied up with the "correct" performance of masculinity: ie, being competitive and concerned with establishing alpha status by having the most obscure or "difficult" records, disparaging "mere" prettiness, de-emphasizing any emotional value, re-casting music-listening as this intensely critical, dry, intellectualized activity. (And the classic opposition between the "feminized" shopper who buys for fashion/trend/silliness and the masculine shopper who is careful to constitute his purchasing as serious and intellectual...a lot of record nerd culture is sort of response to anxiety about acquisition and the constitution of identity through "taste"--like the opposition between decoraters and architechts) There are all kinds of things you can't say about a record without either losing all your credibility as a record nerd, playing it off as "oh, aren't I cute to have this silly little opinion" or being alpha record nerd so that you can show off by transgressing norms.
And seriously, have you ever been to a record show or a fancy "correct" shop with "correct" music? If you're, you know, female you are often treated differently--obviously, you must be there with your boyfriend, or you've stumbled in by mistake or something. Now, YMMV and all, but I've experienced this often enough and heard other women talk about it often enough to believe that it's not just my crazy feminazi misperceptions at play.
I think record nerds are awesome, and for a woman of my age and general background I'm about as close to being one as possible. Record nerds have revolutionized my record collection and--indirectly--my whole life. But there was a lot of fucked-up cultural stuff that came along with it.
Correct spelling, too, is a patriarchal concept.
Oh, and pre-emptively--I am not describing every record nerd ever from the beginning of time, nor do I mean to imply that there are no female record nerds; I do think that there are some commonly-found characteristics of record-nerd culture that are pretty darn gendered, though.
Frowner, it's more fun to insult the entire group back to the beginning of time. For example, Harry Potter-loving ex-crack babies.
There's a cost, but it's fun.
But I like melodious accessibility.
Frowner is generally right in 25. Although, that saying, the biggest record nerd I personally happen to know, is female.
Right now: melodious accessibility!
Bay Areans who are interested in free tickets to Richard Thompson (9/7) or Bert Jansch (this Sunday) should consider calling 650 723 9010.
Bonus: I'll be at each concert!
Mr Thompson is no longer available.
Yo, ben: typo in your radio station url.
Hooray then for melodious accessibility! I just spent money on CDs (I'm old-fashioned that way) and am in possession of Magazine's "The Correct Use of Soap", a used copy of Zen Arcade (Minnesota represent!), Jens Lekman's "When I Said I Wanted To Be Your Dog", and "The Sandinista Project", none of which I have listened to yet. None of these are sufficiently arcane, but I anticipate that all will be accessible. I do also have a multiplicity of proper, classy sixties and seventies free jazz CDs copied for me by a kind friend. Friend and I are also making duelling mix tapes with the requirement that all songs contain sung nonsense syllables of the "la la la" type.
I really liked that Angels of Light song, b-wo.
There's a great Angels of Light song with lyrics of that type: "Evangeline" from How I Loved You.
"When I Said I Wanted To Be Your Dog" is one of the all-time great song titles.
All praise the Angels of Light, and M. Gira, their prophet.
40.2: Jens Lekman is a hilarious guy. Did you ever read the interview where he talks about being beat up by Morrissey fans, because in Sweden all the Morrissey fans are badasses?
I've tried really hard to like Richard Thompson, because so many people whose musical opinions I respect and share practically worship him. But every time I've listened to him, meh.
42: there's a lot of badass Morissey fans in LA, too.
"When I Said I Wanted To Be Your Dog" is one of the all-time great song titles.
Strangely, this is exactly what I thought. It may even be the greatest title ever, rendering all other song titles obsolete. Nothing but "Track 1" and "Track 2" from here on.
I've been listening to virtually nothing lately but "You're So Silent, Jens", over and over and over. It's absolutely fantastic in so many ways; very funny, good sampling, excessively pretty, sad in patches, and within a narrow enough range that I can actually sing the songs to myself(when, say, washing dishes or writing boring HTML) without being too off-key. Also, it rhymes "rain falls hard on the city" with "every homeless kitty".
I assume you've all seen Ryan McGinley's Morrissey photography.
The cover art for "Night Falls Over Kortedala" convinces me that it will be his greatest album yet. (Even more than the leaked tracks.)
All praise the Angels of Light, and M. Gira, their prophet.
Michael Gira signs CDs you order from Young God Records. haha, promiscuous signing, really.
I'm interested in Lisa Germano, on their label.
On the other hand, the Secretly Canadian website makes me die inside a little.
illustrating just why many consider him one of the most important of the hopeful broken hearts coming of age in contemporary music, indeed.
I saw him opening for ... someone or other at the empty bottle a few years ago, playing guitar and backed by tapes. It was pretty good, though I recall that it didn't really fit with whomever it was for whom he was opening.
Germano was in Dead Can Dance, right?
Germano was in Dead Can Dance, right?
Off the top of my head, no. I could be wrong.
Do I even know what Dead Can Dance sounds like?
Fuck embedded links right now,
http://www.lisagermano.com/main.html
This Young God release intrigues.
56: Ben, put yourself on the Young Gods mailing list if you haven't already. One of these days when one or the other of us crosses the country, we might see something together.
There's a thing that happens here called the High Zero festival. I have yet to go.
Damn. Of all the people listed here, I have heard of three.
I just spent money on CDs (I'm old-fashioned that way) and am in possession of Magazine's "The Correct Use of Soap", a used copy of Zen Arcade (Minnesota represent!), Jens Lekman's "When I Said I Wanted To Be Your Dog", and "The Sandinista Project", none of which I have listened to yet.
Huh, until this comment forced me to look up Hüsker Dü again, I'd always assumed that they were from the MC5, Stooges, Motörhead era of proto-punk (maybe it was the gratuitous umlauts that caused the confusion?) and that A Certain Ratio's "Do the Du" was a reference to them. Now I'm really confused.
I saw him opening for ... someone or other at the empty bottle a few years ago, playing guitar and backed by tapes. It was pretty good, though I recall that it didn't really fit with whomever it was for whom he was opening.
Lens was fantastic at Pitchfork last year with his backing band of Swedish women in identical white dresses. I don't care to much for his songs on record (too soft for me, I'm just not that interested), but his personality and the funny but very good backing band make the live show worthwhile.
60:
Damn. Of all the people listed here, I have heard of three.
It's alright: it would be preposterous if you had heard of everybody. I've only heard of the ones from Baltimore.
Damn, though, High Zero is next month! I think I must see a few things this year.
Friend and I are also making duelling mix tapes with the requirement that all songs contain sung nonsense syllables of the "la la la" type.
Would grunts count? (e.g, "I'm going to [uh] [uh] make her mine" from "Gloria")
I remember seeing a David Byrne Q/A in which he was asked where he got the idea for the "fa fa fa" bit in "Psycho Killer" and he answered "Otis Redding." I love that.
61: Ya, they're Minnesotan all right, a real hometown phenomenon. Although Bob Mould really doesn't compel me as a lyricist. But my first two years of college (when I was assimilated to Minnesota-dom) were spent listening to a LOT of Husker Du. ("Celebrated Summer"! "The Girl Who Lives on Heaven Hill"! "Hardly Getting Over It"!) and I heard Bob Mould perform a bunch of times right after "Black Sheets of Rain" and around the time of Sugar.
Really, everything after "New Day Rising" you listen to for the howling and the density, not the content.
Anybody here familiar with Arcwelder? That was the other band I seemed to see all the time back then.
My mother was convinced that "Husker Du" was meant to be some clever teenage-ese for something obscene.
63: Yeah, all those posty-punky angular guys were wanting to play soul and r&b. I recall some kind of anecdote about (I think) early Gang of Four where they were telling some reporter that they were constantly confused by audience reaction because they thought they were being basically James Brown. It might have been The Pop Group, though.
I have no idea what "Do the Du" is about, but yeah, A Certain Ratio!
"Work all day, drink all night; my life is like an angry blur!"
Yeah, I don't know what "Du" means to ACR, but of course the Replacements' Somethin' to Dü actually does refer to Hüsker Dü.
Anybody here familiar with Arcwelder?
Yep.
BTW, Bob Mould now lives here in Austin, and now makes, of all things, dance music.