Radio Free Chicago

Wiping Off The Dust: Ride - Nowhere

Back in the waning years of the 80's, the music genre known as shoegaze had sprouted from the the roots of different bands, labels and movements. The beginnings can be traced through many different roots. The punishing pedal work and feedback of Jesus and Mary Chain, the delicate swirls of 4AD pillars Cocteau Twins and the distant harmonies of 60's British Invasion and psychedelica can all be excavated in this musical movement. The reigning champion of shoegaze was My Bloody Valentine despite putting out two LP's and a handful of singles and EP's. Of course, one of those albums was Loveless, which still is a tour de force in beauty and cacophony. There were many other great shoegaze bands such as Lush, Slowdive, Chapterhouse and later The Verve and The Catherine Wheel. So many amazing albums from the annals of Brit-pop that were birthed by shoegaze as well: Primal Scream - Screamadelica, The Charlatans UK - Some Friendly, Swervedriver - Duel and the self titled debut album from The House of Love all immediately come to mind. In my opinion, none of these bands or albums found that perfect balance in amazing songs, incredible musicianship and fiery passion that the Oxford quartet Ride captured on the 1990 album Nowhere.

Ride - Seagull

Wiping Off The Dust...Unconvering Unbunny's Black Strawberries

There’s not a moment in my day that goes by where I don’t think of my life as a movie. Chances are, you’ve seen this movie. It’s about a boy with little to no direction in life stuck in a dead end town searching for a way out while also searching for his true love. This is the life I lead to a tee.  I’m a Joseph Gordon Levitt searching for my Zooey. A Richie searching for his Margot Tenenbaum (Hey, I like that one…). And no good indie-love story would be complete without a moment of quiet reflection while a deep, sad song slowly fades into the background. Of course I’m writing this because I had one of these moments just last week. While walking alone through the beautiful seacoast town of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, I stopped to look out at the boats at port as they were slowly getting swallowed by dusk. Deep in the recesses of my mind, Unbunny’s “Glacier” slowly started growing louder through my brain. I immediately grabbed my iPod and scrolled to the Black Strawberries album.

It’s no coincidence I was thinking of Unbunny while walking through a chilly Portsmouth’s bustling downtown. Jarid del Deo, the lone member of the “band”, has been recording under the name Unbunny since attending the University of New Hampshire (GO WILDCATS!). While he has made homes in various parts of the country (Including Chicago for the release of Snow Tires, one of the greatest break-up albums to fly under the radar), Unbunny’s Black Strawberries was released while living in Portsmouth on local Two Ton Santa records. While many of Unbunny’s releases tend to not get much press, Black Strawberries is one that a stand out above all their other’s as a real hidden gem of lo-fi folk.

Unbunny - Glacier

Even great albums can have a throw-away track or two. But it’s incredibly hard to find one on Black Strawberries. The eerie instrumental “Born Blind” fits perfectly on the album. It creates a wonderful bridge between the upbeat poppy intro track “In a Way” to the murky worker anthem “Let it All Burn”.  Jarid’s vocals are stinging and temperamental. The first time I heard the folksy “5^th of July”, I wanted to consume the rest of the album. He is like a test tube baby of all my favorite vocalists; early Neil Young, Jeff Mangum, Jason Molina and Will Sheff. The previously mentioned “Glacier” has some of the most sentiment on the album. “I said let’s move up to Canada. I know that it’s cold but if you’re unhappy and I’m so faithless, we could be there by early afternoon”. It’s hard to not want to pack up your essential belongings, grab your significant other and start a new life in an unknown town.  The entire album has a very unique “lo-fi sing-along” quality to it. “Swans are Fainting” has a browbeaten chorus that constantly has me putting the song on loop, grabbing my guitar and singing along to it. “Freezing Scene’s” use of incongruent sound and upbeat trumpet medley is a perfect contrast for the song’s theme of going off to die in war. The album is capped off by Jarid’s most haunting work on “Northern Spies”. An almost ghostly piano reverberates in the background as his guitar takes you by the hand, leading you through a snowy field of inscrutable lyrics.

Unbunny - In A Way

Wiping Off The Dust... Getting Nostalgic For Old 97's

We all know I'm one of those people who constantly pick and choose songs they relate to, assembling their own personal soundtrack to their life every time a new elements presents itself to muddle up my internal monologue and shift my attitude from complacency to frustration or, y'know, sometimes smitteness. Every time I get a crush on a guy or meet a new friend or embark on a new project, I find myself combing through my iTunes library for hours, making a new playlist of songs that are apt to my current situation. And while you were all overdosing on tryptophan, that's just what I was doing this Thanksgiving weekend. (Although, I was overdosing on tryptophan as well. But I can multi-task, kids!)

I'm not entirely sure how my mind wandered on to the songs of the once-great Old 97's but it happened. I think it might have had something to do with that really cute Fuse TV commercial that had some sock puppets being all adorable with one another while "Question" played. Remember that? I do. It was one of those things that made me realize I wasn't so heart hardened as I like to pretend to me. (Not that I got all misty eyed at lovey-dovey sock puppets. Moving on...) Whether that jogged my memory or not, I found myself desperate to hear "Designs On You" and within minutes, found myself thoroughly nostalgic for the heyday of alt-country. In my high school days, nothing made me feel as cool as spinning Wilco, Old 97's, and other burgeoning indie acts that lifted a heavy influence from the country music of days gone by, serving as a reminder that just because modern country music sucked didn't mean all country music did. In fact, whenever I had to convince my rock n' roll lovin' pals that alt-country was far more awesome than they thought, the searing anger of "Four Leaf Clover" and the edgy longing of "Jagged" were two of my go-to tracks. But what got me to revisit Old 97's this weekend was their sweeter side. Find me a better song about the flirtatious lust you can't shake in regards to someone you want but, for whatever reason, can't have than "Designs On You" and I'll make you a crown and sash for one upping me. 

Old 97's - Designs On You

Wiping Off The Dust: The Feelies - The Good Earth

Just a few scant days ago, I heard some tremendous and jawdropping news. The Feelies are releasing an album of all new material this coming spring. Obviously this may not garner as much excitement for anyone under 35 and from most of said age bracket it would most likely inspire a quizzical "Who?". Notoriously reclusive and frustratingly sparse in their material, they are putting out their first full length since 1991's Time For A Witness. That's 20 years, my friends. If you have only heard of this influential band, you may have knowledge of their much lauded debut LP Crazy Rhythms as it tends to land on any respectable critics best of the 80's list. If you were a child of MTV, perhaps you caught the video for single "Away" off of their 1988 LP Only Life directed by their biggest fan Jonathan Demme. Proof of this is evident as The Feelies always seem to get wedged into his movies and on their respective soundtracks. Nevertheless, The Feelies are one the connecting links between The Velvet Underground and what was coined as "college rock". Without The Feelies, there is quite simply no stage being set for bands such as the dB's, Camper Van Beethoven and R.E.M.. It is scary how dull would the indie landscape be without these godfathers of jangle pop and indie folk.

The Feelies - On The Roof

Wiping Off The Dust: Liz Phair's Exile In Guyville

I was nine when Liz Phair's Exile In Guyville came out. I was fourteen when I heard it. Needless to say, I didn't understand half of what she was singing about - Sure, I understood the emotion behind "Fuck and Run" just fine even though the physical aspect of it was lost on me until some years later. The explicit "Flower", however, went completely over my head and, well, when I finally did understand what the lyrics meant, I was pretty appalled that my parents hadn't monitored my listening patterns a little more closely.

While other girls my age were listening to Justin Timberlake and those other guys he used to be in that one band with, I was listening to Phair sing "I want to feel your fresh young jimmy; jamming, slamming, ramming in me." My face turns more than a little red thinking about it, truth be told because a good portion of Exile still makes my eyes widen with disbelief at the sheer vulgarness of it. But if it weren't for albums like this, I wouldn't be who I am today.

I feel like, as with most people, I've cooled my feelings towards Phair in recent years. I barely remember anything of Whitechochocolatespaceegg except for the god awful (yet strangely mouth watering) title and the charming "Polyesther Bride". By the time Phair's self titled 2003 album came out and "Why Can't I" became a pop sensation, the lewd Phair that I knew had been all but completely tamed. Like a captive lioness being tossed in a zoo. It wasn't until seeing Phair duet with hipster vegan heartthrob Ted Leo at Matador 21 on the seminal classic "Fuck and Run" that I realized how much of a badass Phair used to be. I, appropriately and proverbially, wiped the dust off my off my (digital) copy of Exile in Guyville and rediscovered not only the Phair I knew but a side of Phair that deeply related to a side of me that was far too young to grasp the raunch of Guyville when I first procured it.

Phair cornered the market in 1993 when she released her debut, so far as "Music for the Alt-Girl Who Can (To Quote Jenny Lewis) Take Her Clothes Off But Cannot Fall In Love". From the opening lines of "6'1"" ("I bet you fall in bed too easily with the beautiful girls who are shyly, brave and you sell yourself as a man to save them.") to "Divorce Song" ("If... you're still unhappy, then you know that the problem is you."), Exile is wrought with the emotion that every single girl in their early-to-mid-twenties who wonder "Whatever happened to a boyfriend?"

Liz Phair - Fuck and Run

Wiping Off The Dust: Come On Pilgrim - Pixies

My plan, along with the garden variety album and concert reviews, will be to wipe the dust off my old CD's and bask in the glow of fond memories. Hopefully, you can wistfully stroll with me and give these nuggets another spin. If you are one of the unlucky folks who have not experienced these "dusties", let my fawning praise inspire a listen and, perhaps, a future investment for you to make your own memories.

My choice for my first installment is a calculated one for sure. Often times when referring to one's music affections, one uses the phrase "biggest fan". My inner snob often snorts in disbelief in the face of such a superlative. This statement, I feel, is saddled with strict requirements. Examples are:

• - Owning copies of all albums, including many EP's and singles.
• - Seeing a band multiple times in concert, especially in smaller venues, if applicable.
• - Starting your fandom early in a band's career. (sorry, but the biggest Beatles' fans are at least 55 years old)
• - Having encyclopedic knowledge of the band's output. (e.g. knowing all song titles and their proper order on the album, reciting a song's lyrics while being able to state the song's meaning, knowing the place of origin of the band and it's members)

With these strict requirements imposed, I cannot claim "biggest fan-ness" with very many artists. However, I can definitely attempt to align with one group: Pixies. For those who don't know them, this four-piece group formed in Boston area filled the late 80's-early 90's with creative alternative (back when that word meant something) rock delivered with dynamic hooks. To call the Pixies influential is compulsory; many bands cite them as an inspiration including Kurt Cobain referring to Nirvana as "ripping off the Pixies".

And so we go back to me, circa 1987, a suburban teenager just starting to form his music tastes. I was consuming a heady diet of progressive sounds around that time: R.E.M., The Smiths, New Order, Echo and the Bunnymen. Luckily, I could buy most of these cassettes tapes (!) at my friendly neighborhood corporate record store without much fuss. Often, I would have to travel to downtown Minneapolis and enjoy the incredible amount of independent record shops to find the newest, most obscure cuts. However, that day I was at the mall, trudging through the alternative rock section when the album cover above caught my eye. Come On Pilgrim was stark and spooky, but not in your typical Iron Maiden/heavy metal way. There was art behind this creepy photo, and it sucked me in. Since it carried the moderate price of an EP, I gave it a whirl. That is how it all began.

Pixies - Caribou