Radio Free Chicago

An RFC Mix: You are a dog chasing a car. What do you plan to do when you catch it?

This is a story.

A man and woman are walking down the street of a nameless suburban city. The air is filled with flakes of snow swirling around them as if inside a city-sized snow globe that’s being gently shaken. Their hands are clasped together as they make their way through the deserted cityscape. The stars are covered by the thick clouds that cast an orange glow through the sky. The falling snow dampens all noise save for the dull crunch of the snow under their feet. Their breath crystalizes and hangs in the air before being swept away by the wind.

“I have to tell you something.” She says.

“What is it?”

“I love you…”

He stops and smiles. “I love you too…”

“…but I can’t be with you.” Her interruption hangs in the air as thick as their breath. But it’s not being blown away. It just hovers in the air, stale as it stares Him down.

“I don’t understand. What are you saying?” His heart comes up through his throat. He chokes it back down.

“Listen to me. What we have is too beautiful. It’s too easy. We will get married and grow old and die side by side. This is not what you want.” Her statements fly out of her mouth like bullet points on a piece of paper. His stomach burns. “You want to be challenged. You’ve been chasing happiness as long as you can remember. This isn’t giving up. This is me giving you what you need. I’m leaving you. Now come find me.”

His head drops. He stares at their boots, and then closes his eyes. He was an expert at pretending to be sad. He brings his head back up to see nothing but falling snow. His eyes dart through the powder covered streets. Nothing but abandoned buildings and frost –covered windows. Where did she go? He spots a flicker of red out of his peripheral vision. It has to be her coat. He takes off, faster than he even thought He could move. He flys down an alleyway, turning a corner and loses his footing. The pain he should have felt when he slammed against the ground didn’t register. His heart is pumping like pistons in an engine. Adrenaline is flowing through his body like electricity through power lines. He smells her perfume as he picks himself up and follows the curving of the alley. He feels alive. He has purpose again.

This is a story of forever chasing something that you aren’t even sure exists. It's a story about following memories and tailing ghosts in the night. These are the songs for the tired traveler who just isn't ready to stop moving yet.

Sunset Rubdown You Go On Ahead (Trumpet Trumpet II)

You go on ahead for a while. I would like to just follow you a while.

Unbunny - Nothing Comes To Rest

Nothing comes to rest on the chest of those always running. And in this life I have been blessed by the starcrossed maps that kept me moving.

Built to Spill - Made-up Dreams

No one wants to hear what you dreamt about unless you dreamt about them

Stairway To Zeppelin: One Skeptic's Journey To Fandom (Part Two)

Led Zeppelin II

Whole Lotta Love: Led Zeppelin’s sophomore album opens with the bass and guitar repeating the same catchy riff over and over. When Plant’s vocals begin occasionally Page’s guitar will buzz in and out like a lazy bee. Around 1:30 things slow down for some random psychedelia while Bonham solos. It’s annoying and distracting. I’m sure it’s supposed to represent sex or something. When Page’s guitar does his buzz thing again with an added whine this time, I feel like punching him out. Fortunately at 3 minutes Page decides to use his guitar for good and lays down a short, melodic solo. After the solo, the song resumes the pre-psychedelia tempo for a little bit before launching into a far too melodramatic breakdown. The song ends with Plant doing some weird vocal echos while the guitar, bass, and drums beat the signature riff like a dead horse. Now I know “Whole Lotta Love” is one of the most important hard rock songs of all time and whatnot, but honestly, apart from the catchy riff, it’s annoying and obnoxious. The psychedelia and two breakdowns detract from what would otherwise be a concise, kick-ass rock song. It drags on far too long, and by the time it’s over the hooky riff has wormed it’s way into your skull so deep you’re eager to hear the next track to flush it out. I’m not impressed.

What Is And What Should Never Be: One thing Zeppelin doesn’t do well is slow songs. Robert Plant doesn’t have the voice and Zeppelin’s instrumentals are boring otherwise. Much like “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You”, “What Is And What Should Never Be” alternates between soft balladry and in-your-face rock ‘n’ roll, and just like before, it doesn’t work well. To make things worse, during the slow sections Plant feels the need to distort his voice to the point where he sounds like someone with down syndrome trying to sing underwater. Near the end Page’s guitar alternates between your left and right ear. At first it’s fun in a gimmicky way but quickly loses its charm. Once again, I’m not impressed.

The Lemon Song: Finally this album begins to show some promise. Page’s riff is the perfect balance between blues and rock. However, the real highlight here is John Paul Jones, who’s clearly showing off. At 1:30 things speed up and Page breaks out a jangly, weird sounding solo that becomes melodic as time goes on. Eventually the song resumes the riffs and tempo it established at the beginning. Halfway through the song Bonham and Page get real quiet so Jones can take center stage. Plant’s vocals are annoying as usual, but the innuendo of the song combined with Jones virtuosity is so distracting you don’t notice. During the last thirty seconds of the song, the band speeds up for a rather anti-climactic ending. “The Lemon Song” is a bit long and repetitive, but thankfully John Paul Jones bass improvisation makes the length worth it. It’s not a bad song, but it’s not spectacular either. So far Led Zeppelin II is a let down. Let’s hope the next track doesn’t continue the trend.

Thank You: Led Zeppelin II’s fourth track opens with quiet guitar plucking and organ playing. Finally Zeppelin manages to do a slow ballad right. Plant sings with dynamics and range appropriate to his voice. Page’s guitar is pretty, but the real highlight is John Paul Jones organ playing. Page’s guitar solo halfway through is very mellow and unobtrusive. The song switches dynamics between whisper soft and mezzo forte, but maintains intensity throughout. It’s a very pretty song. Exactly the opposite of what you would expect from Led Zeppelin. The song fades out early, tricking you into believing it’s ended before playing again for two seconds and then ending for real. I’m not sure what the point of the faux fade out was. It doesn't add anything. Overall, “Thank You” is a stand out track not only for Led Zeppelin II but also for Led Zeppelin’s discography. Proving that the heaviest band making music during the sixties also knew how to be gentle.   

Heartbreaker: Finally! One of the few Zeppelin songs I liked before starting these reviews. “Heartbreaker” is not only the definitive Led Zeppelin riff but also contains one of the greatest guitar solos in rock ‘n’ roll history. Bonham and John Paul Jones are no slouches either, and Plant’s vocals don’t movie beyond his capabilities, which is pleasant. Page’s stand alone solo starts slow and eccentric, then gradually builds speed and complexity until it reaches a boiling point. After a solid thirty seconds of soloing, Bonham and John Paul Jones join in while Page continues to solo. Eventually Plant joins for the last thirty seconds of the song before the track abruptly ends. I’m not familiar with the final four tracks of Led Zeppelin II, so perhaps another track will prove to be better than “Heartbreaker”, but I doubt it. So for now, I’ll make the bold assumption that “Heartbreaker” is the magnum opus of Led Zeppelin’s 1960’s discography. Will the next track be able to carry the torch?

Heartbreaker - Led Zeppelin

Okkervil River Continues To Be Perfect and Awesome, Brings Jonathan Meiburg Along For The Ride

I wasn't very excited for the release of Okkervil River's latest 12", Mermaid. Well, okay, I was very excited. But let's get something straight: If an Okkervil River song doesn't send me into a conniption fit that would make any outside observer think I was having a nervous breakdown so severe that I was a danger to both myself and others, I'm not "very excited". Using that grading scale, I'd say I was "moderately anxious" for the release of Mermaid. A lot of this probably has to do with the fact that, obsessive about the band as I am, I'd heard the title track to Okkervil River's latest 12", before. That didn't make it any less lovely but it did make me slightly bored with the idea that the first "new Okkervil River" I'd heard in almost three years was a song I'd already known quite thoroughly. It's nice to have "Mermaid" on an official release but what has really captivated me about Mermaid is the b-side, "Walked Out On A Line".

"Walked Out On A Line" is a song that first made it's appearance at some of Will Sheff's solo New York shows last year, which, naturally, I swooned over on RFC. Given the questionable quality of the video that was floating around, I never gave the song all that much of a chance, choosing instead to wait until the latest Okkervil River album, I Am Very Far, neared completion on a more cohesive version of "Walked Out On A Line" came into existence for my consumption.

 

Okkervil River - Walked Out on a Line

 

I first heard "Walked Out On A Line" in it's studio incarnation while sitting in my living room, after purchasing it completely legally (Just kidding, my savior Bill Baker, he of much awesomeness, sent it to me. Sharing is caring, kids!) and consuming more than a bit of wine. Immediately, I was in love. Musically, it wasn't what I expected and almost made me worry that the forthcoming I Am Very Far will be more mechanical and psychadelic than organic and singer-songwriter-esque, something that tends to taint music as a whole for me, but... Well, it's Okkervil River. I can't not love it. Out of the band's entire discography, b-sides and rarities included, there is one song I don't like. One. One out of 174. So of course I was fated to love "Mermaid" and it's counterpart, both fraught with cinematic lyrics about "the devil all dinged up and dragonfly winged-up", paried with Sheff's signature vocals, which are at turns pleadingly unhinged and beautifully crooned. What took me aback, however, was what made me actually love "Walked Out On A Line". You see, it wasn't Will Sheff at all. It was Jonathan Meiburg.

Meiburg, for those who don't know, was Sheff's right hand man in Okkervil River for years until he left to concentrate fully on Shearwater, a band originated by Meiburg and Sheff years prior. Meiburg has a remarkably powerful voice, orchestral and ethereal, and even if Shearwater's music isn't your thing, you still have to admit that Meiburg's voice has a soul shaking tone that is the audible equivalent of thunder and lightning. Even so, I never warmed fully to Meiburg until hearing him in Shearwater, maintaining the opinion that his voice just didn't mesh well with Sheff's.

The absence of Meiburg in Okkervil River, however, is noticeable. It's not noticably bad, per se. It's just noticably different. Okkervil River without the accordion skills and lilting background vocals of Meiburg is sort of like going to a family reunion and not seeing your favorite second cousin. Sure, they're just your second cousin so it makes sense they're not there and all your immediate family is there but man, it sure would be nice to see that second cousin and "Walked Out On A Line" is a beautiful example of just what wonder Meiburg brings to the band.

I don't know about you but I could listen to Meiburg yowl about black blood all night.

I Am Very Far comes out May 10th - And you know what else is on the way? An Okkervil River documentary. That's fact. Tell your pals.

Wiping Off The Dust: RFC Reviews Pavement's Slanted and Enchanted

Discovering your favorite band in high school is just as important and meaningful as choosing your group of friends. Besides providing catharsis for all those teenage hormone fueled emotions, it’s about discovering and expressing yourself. Even the high school jocks have a favorite band, and it means as much to them as yours does to you.

The stereotypical music obsessive is underweight, weak, nerdy, and emotionally scarred. They’re people that feel different from everybody else. Most rock stars began their lives as the kids who always got picked on. They turned to music to either provide a release for their pent up emotions or to get the girl and become popular, sometimes both.

Typically the music obsessives first band is something angry and violent that will piss off their parents. Virtually all music, everything from The Beatles to Bob Dylan to The Clash to Black Flag, is written by and for pissed off youth. Teenage angst has been the driving force behind music since the jazz explosion of the 1920s.

If Nirvana had existed ten years earlier they would have been just another underground indie band who ran their own label and toured by spending days crammed into a cheap van and nights sleeping on strangers floors. Instead they existed in the right place at the right time. Thanks to Kurt Cobain’s sexy looks and catchy hooks, MTV, and an incredibly tight rhythm section, Nirvana became the biggest band the world had seen since The Beatles. Teenagers across the world hailed Cobain as a god. Much like Bob Dylan’s The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan turned him into the unwitting face of the early ‘60s, Nirvana’s Nevermind turned Cobain into the spokesman of the early ‘90s. And just like Dylan, Cobain loathed the title.

Part of what made Cobain so appealing was how much adults detested him. He was constantly strung out on heroin, rarely bathed, and his music was simplistic. Teenage girls fantasized about bearing his children while teenage boys learned the guitar riff to “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and pretended to know what the lyrics were.

Every teenager in America, from the geeks to the football players to the cheerleaders to the stoners loved Nirvana, and that’s exactly why Pavement became so popular and critically acclaimed. Halfway through my sophomore year Radiohead became my favorite band and stayed that way throughout high school. While my peers were listening to The Strokes, Arcade Fire, and Coheed and Cambria, I had Radiohead all to myself. They helped define me as an individual, and it was a great feeling.

Pavement’s debut LP Slanted and Enchanted kicks off with a screech. Scott Kanberg’s guitar lick on album opener “Summer Babe (Winter Version)” cuts through the lo-fi noise like a gunshot through your eardrums. Second track “Trigger Cut/Wounded Kite at :17” continues Pavement's signature piercing guitar, sloppy, minimalistic drumming/percussion, and basic bass riffs. God only knows what Malkmus is singing about. Yet, he has a gift for making you feel in your heart he’s singing about something important. Third track “No Life Singed Her” opens with Malkmus screaming like he got his hand caught in a toaster before launching into one of the dirtiest, sloppiest, most lively lo-fi pop rock songs written before or since. “No Life Singed Her” is a mere two minutes, but it hits you so hard and fast it feels like one. The first twenty seconds of fourth track “In The Mouth A Desert” opens with the band playing languid and slow before launching into a steady, gritty, lo-fi groove. The next four tracks on Slanted and Enchanted pleasantly assault your ears like Mike Tyson jabs, none of them exceeding the three minute mark.

Pavement - No Life Singed Her

Stairway To Zeppelin: One Skeptic's Journey To Fandom (Part One)

For those of you that don’t know, I was a hipster in high school. By the time I was a senior, my musical criticism was legendary. It was the butt of jokes. Some people were offended by it, others respected it.

At the time I was friends with two guys who owned a music store. The majority of my taste came from them. They introduced me to Okkervil River, The Smiths, Jeff Buckley, The Hold Steady, The Mountain Goats, and Joy Division to name a few.

Nothing pissed me off more than the kids who listened to classic rock and mouthed off about how all post seventies music sucked. I took every opportunity I got to argue with them about great modern music. My rivalry with them was so intense I found it impossible to enjoy anything that got played on a classic rock station.

Fast forward to the summer of 2010. I was no longer a hipster and beginning to really enjoy classic rock. I was a big fan of Hendrix, Dylan, and The Beatles. I was constantly driving in my car, and my radio dial was permanently stuck on the classic rock station. I listened to it so religiously within seconds of a song being played I could name it and the artist.

Just about every band I bashed in high school I now enjoyed with one exception: Led Zeppelin. As far as I was concerned, Rolling Stone had them pegged back in the late sixties. Sure they had a few good songs (Rock ‘N’ Roll, Immigrant Song, Heartbreaker), but they were wildly overrated. I didn’t understand why nearly everyone worshiped them.

However, I want to change that. I consider myself to be a very open minded person now. You name it, I listen to it. Country, jazz, techno, ska, classical, rap, pop, reggae, soul, funk, metal, punk, gospel, blues, and of course my beloved rock ‘n’ roll. Perhaps a little bit of my high school hipster is still lingering in my brain somewhere, refusing to let me appreciate Zeppelin for what they have to offer.

So to combat that and prove once and for all if Zeppelin are gods or hacks, I’m going to listen to Zeppelin’s six critically acclaimed albums (Led Zeppelin, Led Zeppelin II, Led Zeppelin III, Led Zeppelin IV, Houses Of The Holy, and Physical Graffiti. Presence, In Through The Out Door, and Coda are widely considered to be mediocre at best even by die-hard fans.), and review them track by track. I assure you I’m leaving personal bias out of the equation. I want to like Led Zeppelin. Will I become a fan? Only one way to find out. Time to rock ‘n’ roll!

Led Zeppelin


Good Times, Bad Times: The first thing that stands out when you spin Led Zeppelin’s debut album is John Bonham’s drumming. Unlike most modern metal bands, it’s very rhythmic. Every member of the band is featured equally. Jimmy Page’s solo pales in comparison to Hendrix and Clapton, but it’s still compelling nonetheless. None of the riffs are overly catchy, but they’ve still got that traditional rock and roll pulse. Amid all the rhythm, soloing, and shrieking John Paul Jones bass riffs are both easily audible and the highlight of the song. I’ve never been a fan of Robert Plant’s vocals, but they aren’t annoying me here. I really dig this song. Good Times, Bad Times has set the bar fairly high. Hopefully, the rest of the album can compare.

Good Times, Bad Times - Led Zeppelin

RFC Thinks You Should Know...Lizzie Huffman

  Steve (my fiancée, for those not in the know) walks in the door with one of those familiar  
skinny white boxes from Vinyl Collective, and my tastes are expanded once again thanks to the acumen of Suburban Home Records. Suburban Home is a hard-working, small label with a lot of grit and damn good taste; they’re responsible for the unearthing of bands like Two Cow Garage and Kay Kay and His Weathered Underground, as well as for releasing the solo efforts of Lagwagon’s Joey Cape and Drag The River’s Jon Snodgrass. One of the guys’ most recent acquisitions is none other than the fetching little sis of Kay Kay’s Kirk Huffman, Lizzie Huffman.

I’m fuzzy on Huffman’s back story beyond the obvious fact that her parents deserve a lifetime of high fives for deciding to bear offspring, but what I do know about her is that she is a Seattle-based singer-songwriter with one solo album on her resume: 2010’s Lizzie Huffman and Her Brother Band. That’s right, Kay Kay fans – brother Kirk plays and records with Huffman.

Huffman’s southern-fried folk-pop is perhaps a bit counterintuitive to her West Coast roots, and so well contrived you’d expect to find her kicking up her boots in Nashville. The first moment the record player needle spun over Huffman’s voice, I was honestly blown away. She soulfully and magnetically vocalizes woebegone tales of passion, nerves and infatuation that are plaintive yet conversely empowering. Huffman’s Etta James-esque delivery is laid down amongst a mix of folksy instrumentation like a pair of misfit lovers, but the genre-bending seems genuine and even contemporary.

I tentatively considered submitting this piece on Huffman to RFC’s Love for the Ladies column instead, seeing as Miss Lizzie is such a looker. She is doe-eyed and petite, yet her short black hair, sleeve of tattoos and air of being one of the guys lend a certain kind of alluring edginess. Fellow RFC-er Matthew Voracek claimed in an earlier post that the male writers have a soft spot for ladies with “steely confidence, a gale-wind musical force and all attitude” and who appear on stage “sweaty with an unattainability.” Well boys, I think I have a candidate for you.

There’s so very much to love about Huffman’s lyricism, as well. Admissions of lust (“And every time you come around, your pants get tighter and tattoos just a bit brighter, I’m a mess again, ‘Cause I just want you all over me”) sidle into deeper confessions of longing and personal drama, and the kinds of tunes I wish I knew the story behind (“I’m sure that when her face hit the stairs you weren’t thinking of how much you love me, I’m sure that when her blood ran like tears you weren’t thinking of me like you should”) on “A Night in the Country” and “Heavy Hearts,” respectively.

A Night in the Country - Lizzie Huffman and Her Brother Band

There’s little more of Huffman to be easily found out in the internet universe as of yet, though she can also be found in some widely viewed YouTube videos alongside Forgiving Durden and in older recordings from her former work in the band Man in the Blue Van. One can only hope she’ll churn out more in the near future, but I deeply encourage you to pick up her release from Suburban Home in the meantime.

When Is It Appropriate To Call A Work Of Art "Passionate"?

I hate it when people label music as “passionate”. As someone who’s creatively inclined, I can assure you that if you create something for free and put effort into promotion and distribution, you care deeply about it.

Yet, there is a big difference between, say, Rage Against The Machine and The Rocket Summer. I was lucky enough to see Bryce Avary during his Of Men And Angels tour. He played his heart out and brought the house down. However, had it been a music festival and Rage Against The Machine was one stage over, I wouldn’t have hesitated to abandon Bryce.

What is it that separates them? Both are very skilled musicians and put on energetic live shows. Their only real difference, besides genre, is that Rage Against The Machine is politically focused, whereas Bryce’s goal is to appeal to as many people as possible.

Writing pop music is harder than it sounds. After all, at the end of the day, The Beatles were essentially a pop band. Part of what makes Bryce so skilled is he makes his craft look easy. On the other hand, Rage Against The Machine puts just as much time, energy, and care into their songs.

Ultimately, the difference is Bryce’s objective is to entertain while Rage Against The Machine wants to change the world. Rage Against The Machine’s goal is something that is bigger than themselves. If Bryce works hard and gets what he wants, he becomes famous. If Rage Against The Machine work hard and get what they want, the world is slightly more peaceful than it was yesterday.

Yesterday - The Beatles

What people forget about The Beatles is that they didn’t become The Beatles until they started writing something other than pop songs. Had The Beatles never taken that first step with “Nowhere Man”, if they didn’t launch the counterculture with “Tomorrow Never Knows”, if they didn’t pray for peace in “Let It Be”, all they would have managed to accomplish is write some very popular songs and influence pop music styles. In other words, they wouldn’t be the most critically acclaimed band of all time. Becoming a part of something larger than their own success is a big part of what separates them from other bands.

Let It Be - The Beatles

Passion is more than caring deeply about what you do. It’s the difference between the ad executive and the struggling playwright, J. K. Rowling and Phillip K. Dick, The Roots and Kanye West, The Wire and CSI: Miami. Passion is what makes great art special. It’s why the modern art exhibit leaves the museum and the Van Gogh stays. Now if only more artists cared about something other than money.

Secret Colours Release “Follow the Drone”

Secret Colours have only been together about a year, but their catalog is quickly growing. Since summer, the psych-rock act released a debut full-length and two singles and has been playing shows like crazy all around Chicago. Well, they’ve recently released yet another single, “Follow the Drone,” along with a B-side, “Lust (Slow).”

As its title implies, “Follow the Drone” is a heavy, drone groove with an an upbeat tempo lingering in its hazy textures. Woozy vocals sing soothing, indistinguishable lyrics beside hard rock guitar riffs and pounding, crashing drums. The B-side track, “Lust (Slow),” is also suitably titled. It opens gently with acoustic guitar and aching vocals that sing lyrics like, “Can’t I love so much. Desperate for your touch,” before the song gains momentum and unleashes with a dreamy haze of whirring guitar, passionate vocals, and vibrant, constant tambourine.

You can pick up “Follow the Drone” and “Lust (Slow)” for free at Secret Colours’ Bandcamp, where the rest of their collection is also available for purchase. And you can catch Secret Colours live when they play the Empty Bottle Thursday, February 17, with accompanying acts Young Circles and Calm Palm Vapor. The show is $8 at the door or FREE if you RSVP to rsvp@emptybottle.com.

 

Secret Colours - Follow the Drone

 

People Covering Songs I Love: Stacy Dupree Breaks Hearts With Stevie Nicks

This is a story that could be told in one of two ways. The first way is to talk about the song professionally and the back story behind the cover version, to spare the more emotional part and keep it pro. The second way, however, to tackle this is more interesting and I think that the first part can wait, that I can insert all necessary details into the story of how Fleetwood Mac's "Silver Springs" means so much to me.

I was never the kind of girl to fall in love. I always dreamed about it but in reality, it just wasn't for me. In theory, I was a sweet girl who was witty and cute and fun to talk to and had any number of gentlemen pursuing me at any given time. In actuality, however, I was a sweet girl who was witty and cute and fun to talk to and had any number of gentlemen pursuing me at any given time who broke the hearts of every boy who ever asked her out. I didn't mean to and it wasn't fun but I couldn't help myself - I just didn't want to be in love. Then, suddenly, one day, I fell in love. It doesn't matter with whom or why or how it happened. The point is that it did happen and it was shocking but what was more shocking was that he didn't love me back. Coming to terms with that fact and what it meant has taken up the majority of my life since it became glaringly obvious, in the worst break up that I pretended I was fine with of all time. I've been waiting, anxiously, for the day when I finally no longer feel the spark of heat inside of me when I see him, for when I don't inadvertently smile when he texts me, for when I stop getting that unmistakable face when I'm watching him from across a room, a face which the vast majority of my (mostly male) pals seem to be mercifully oblivious to.

It wasn't until I was listening to Fleetwood Mac late one night that "Silver Springs" came on and it hit me: My biggest fear is being Stevie Nicks. My biggest fear is that this fellow I fell for would be my Lindsey Buckingham, that I would never really fall in love again, and I would spend the rest of my life alone. This, of course, is not completely fair on my part to Stevie Nicks. I'm assuming that she still loves Buckingham, or that at least part of her does, and that the words she sang in "Silver Springs" still ring true. "I could have loved you but you would not let me."

 

Fleetwood Mac - Silver Springs

See, the thing is that I'm not a good girlfriend. I drink too much, I cheat, I'm distant, and I just all around suck at telling people how I feel about them. I don't say what I want because I don't know what I want and even if I do, it's all too likely that what I want will change drastically in ten minutes time. That being said, what kills me is the fact that I know I could have loved this boy, had he let me, and I know I would have been the best damn girl he ever had.

 

Stacy Dupree - Silver Springs

It's hard to take a song as fantastically beautiful as "Silver Springs" and cover it. The original is just about perfect, be it the version that never made it on to Rumors or the live take of the track that eventually saw the light of day on Fleetwood Mac's big "reunion" cd, 1997's The Dance. Couple the fact that musically, the song is impeccable and the overtones of heartache are palpable with the fact that Nicks's voice is an instrument in and of itself, forcing the listener to take the anger and longing she feels and feels it too, and you have a song that most musicians shouldn't touch. That being said, Stacy Dupree of the band Eisley's version of "Silver Springs" is just as hauntingly beautiful as the original, even if at the end of the day, Nicks's version is still the one that sticks with you.

Wiping Off The Dust...Shining a light on The Glow Pt. 2

I’m in a dream. It’s taking place in the living room of my apartment. I’m sitting on my couch playing my guitar; a cup of coffee is sitting on the fittingly titled coffee table in front of me. My appearance is relatively unchanged, save for a mysterious scar on my left hand. I’m not sure what it means, but I’m sure it has to do with money. Possibly gambling debts. Regardless, things appear as they would in my conscious state. I take a revitalizing sip from my mug with a picture of a Pug on it (Thank you, Grandma). I begin to strum on my guitar, my left hand moving effortlessly up and down the fretboard, my right hand plucking and strumming the strings as if I’ve been practicing the instrument for a lifetime. I close my eyes, draw in a deep breath, and then exhale. I’ve attained Zen. I’m on the astral plane. Is this a dream within a dream? Is Inception really possible? Leonardo, you genius.

“You didn’t write that.”

I know that voice. My astral plane evaporates beneath me. My vessel comes to a shrieking standstill. Though I’m still in a catatonic state, I feel like I’m wide awake. I look to my left, where my other couch is. It should be vacant, but instead, two bodies occupy it. It’s two of my exes. They sit, cross legged, ostensibly staring through me. Red hair drapes across the shoulder of one. The voice I heard comes from the other. She waits, pursing the most beautiful lips I’ve ever kissed.

“What do you mean I didn’t write that?” I don’t bother to ask why they are here.

“Phil Elvrum wrote that song. You’re playing ‘I Felt Your Shape’ by The Microphones. I’m not surprised. How many times have you sat alone in the dark listening to that song, wallowing in self-pity thinking about us? It’s everything you’ve wanted to say to us, you just weren’t able to write it first.” The red-head says this with a wry smile across her face, as if to spurn any chance of me attempting to take credit for penning the lyrics while at the same time condemning my writing skills. Touché. (I’m also taken aback seeing as how I don’t think any of my former paramours know who Elvrum is. But I suppose this is my dream, and thus they are merely manifestations of my own psyche).

They’re right, though. In their own snarky, bitchy way, they’re right. I spent countless nights lost in thought while searching for meaning in The Glow Pt. 2 by The Microphones. Along with Neutral Milk Hotel, The Smiths and Okkervil River, The Microphones were a band that opened my eyes to a whole new landscape of music. Traditional song structures and overproduced, radio-friendly schlock didn’t even warrant an afterthought after pouring over the 67 minutes of what could only be called The Microphone’s “definitive” album.  I would even go so far as to call it fate that the first Microphone’s song I ever heard was “I Felt Your Shape” after my first real breakup. But even then, I only heard the song on a wholly superficial level. It was after my second (and albeit vastly more serious) breakup did I start to absorb every little lyric that Elvrum was dispatching.

The Microphones - I Want Wind To Blow

RFC Thinks You Should Know...Patrick Park

I feel like it is safe to say that we all have our so-called “guilty pleasures”.  It could be a musician  that you don’t necessarily like to admit to listening to, or a game of some sort maybe, or if you’re Amber Valentine, it’s booze!  While I am a big fan of awful music, games, and booze, my guilty pleasure comes in the form of a television series by the name of The OC.  For those of you don’t know, The OC was one of those awful teen dramas that Fox airs every so often.  Although the show ended a few years ago, I still absolutely love it.  How much, you ask?  Let’s just say that I have all four seasons on DVD and a couple of posters still on my walls.  All of my sickening obsessions aside, The OC had more to offer than just a riveting story line and a bunch of good looking actors.  The OC Soundtracks (which I HIGHLY recommend downloading) are awesome, to say the least and they introduced me to a whole new variety of musicians including a Mr. Patrick Park.

Patrick Park - Something Pretty

The Pica Beats- Interview with Ryan Barrett

First question... Most important, is, why?

I am always asking myself why, so I suppose my answer would be why. why squared.

Now for the safe word….

Houseplant

Favorite/least favorite cheese? (for the cheese-enthusiast)

My favorite is either feta or goat cheese; I can't say I have a least favorite cheese. Probably mozzarella, even though I love pizza, I do have some lactose issues. 

Robots or Dinosaurs?

Dinosaurs, plesiosaurus. It was my favorite as a child. I think I still have a scale model of one around somewhere.

 

 

 

 

Strangest venue or gig you’ve ever played?

I can't really specify a particular one, but usually the strangest gig's are the awkward and uncomfortable ones; where you want to leave as soon as you show up.

The featured track on your album, beating Back the Claws of the Cold, is Poor Ol' Ra; what song would you say is your favorite from the album?

I would have to say Martine, As Heavy Lifter it is an instrumental track. I have been working on a new EP that are all songs like that, I have been listening to a lot of bali music lately.  

(A side, Ryan plays guitar and the sitar... which gives the album such a heavy resonance... in every sense of the word)

What is one thing you won't leave behind while on tour?

My glow in the dark yo-yo, it' is a great substitute for smoking right before I play a show.

People Covering Songs I Love... With MGMT Doing The '80s!

I gotta say, when I saw MGMT at the Voodoo Experience in New Orleans last year, I had a hard time concentrating on the music. Besides the fact I’d seen them in concert earlier that year at the Sasquatch! Music Festival, their Voodoo set was on Halloween … and they came out on stage dressed as Mystery Inc. Andrew Vanwyngarden made a fetching Daphne, as the sunset glinted from the synthetic strands of his orange wig. Ben Goldwasser and James Richardson stood at either side as Velma and Scooby Doo, with Matt Asti and Will Berman to the rear as Shaggy and Fred. You’ll forgive me if I was a little distracted.

But when I heard the band’s recent Daytrotter session, I was reminded of something. They had played a song I recognized at that show, but not from their albums. One I’d surely heard before, but knew not where. All I was certain of was that the tune was from the 1980s. Sometimes there’s really no debating such things. Was it the Cure? The opening guitar and bass parts suggested it might be, but I know my Cure well enough that by the time the chorus came along, it was out of the question. I was stumped.

MGMT - Only A Shadow

It was time to consult the Google machine. A short search led me to learn the original version of “Only a Shadow” was by a fairly obscure English '80s band The Cleaners From Venus. (They don't have their own Wikipedia entry; they MUST be obscure.)

Cleaners From Venus - Only A Shadow

What the search didn’t tell me is why I’d recognized the song. Perhaps it was just because I’d heard MGMT perform it live just months ago, or perhaps it’s because it so closely resembles other such music from its era. The really important thing to note here, however, is that now there’s a decent recording of MGMT’s cover version for download. Once again, I find myself humbly indebted to Daytrotter for its unrelenting awesomeness.

M.I.A. is Mean

For my intents and purposes, /\/\/\Y/\ is the most underrated release of 2010. It's also the most brilliantly confrontational one. It's a situation for me, where I read criticism of something and feel completely at odds with it. I think M.I.A. herself is as eloquent and multi-dimensional as she's ever been, I think the hooks are hard, I think the production is straight-up amazing.

"Tell Me Why" is as sweet a jam to me as "Paper Planes"(fingers crossed that Your Highness or something throws it in the trailer). "Meds and Feds" shreds a Sleigh Bells riff in a way extreme enough to make SB's "Treats" seem tame by comparison. "XXXO" is a perfect club burner. "Born Free" is a perfect flag burner. It's dope!

M.I.A. - Tell Me Why

Either way, M.I.A. doubled up by releasing the Vicki Leekx mixtape on December 31st. It's been more warmly received, which is a nice thing because it's also very dope! It splits the difference between Kala and /\/\/\Y/\, welding the explosive aggression of the latter to a relentless freak-the-fuck-out-in-the-club pace closer to that of the former. From "Bad Girls" to "You My Love," it has some of the illest material Maya has ever put out. 

So check it out! It's free!

http://vickileekx.com/

RFC Drunk Reviews Cage the Elephant's Thank You Happy Birthday

I’ve never cared much for Cage the Elephant, but since I’ve had a lot of rum, their new album is actually pretty good. I’m really glad I’m using Microsoft Works right now, because it’s correcting my typos. Anyway, I’m listening right now to Thank You Happy Birthday and I want it to be louder.

The album opens with “Always Something,” which has some guitars and shit, and they sing. The second song, “Aberdeen,” is really good. It sounds like something I would have listened to in the '90s. Not to mention that it’s called “Aberdeen” which I like because that’s where Kurt Cobain lived. Wait, is this song about Kurt Cobain? If it isn’t, it should be. It doesn’t sound like an homage to Nirvana or anything, which would be cool, but it’s still cool anyway.

Even drunk, “Indy Kidz” sounds kinda stupid, but I think that’s how they intended. Cause they’re making fun of indie kids or something. “I don’t watch TV 'cause it’s just a box of lies.” Yeah, they’re making fun of hipsters. I do watch TV cause a TV show goes a lot faster than a book. I like books too, though. Like this awesome book that my friend from work bought me for Christmas, a compilation of writings by Lester Bangs. I don’t know how I feel about Bangs, because he doesn’t like Led Zeppelin much, which is my favorite band, but the dude can write, and he’s passionate about music. So despite that whole Zeppelin thing, he’s kind of a kindred spirit. But yeah, so “Indy Kidz” is kinda rude, and not in a good way. Sorry, I’m not really a hipster, but dude just sounds like a jerk.

“Shake Me Down” is pretty good, I guess. No, wait, it’s totally good. But only because it reminds me of something else I love a lot from the '90s, even though now I’m sorta thinking it sounds like Everclear, so that can’t be right. Oh, who am I kidding, I liked “Heartspark Dollarsign.” And that’s what “Shake Me Down” is like. Ish.