Radio Free Chicago

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 [email protected].

 

Secret Colours - Follow the Drone

 

The Best Songs Ever (Part Two): Meat27's Mark Patten on Journey's "Lovin' Touchin' Squeezin'"

A few weeks ago I began a reoccurring segment called The Best Songs Ever. I feel it's about time to unleash my next choice on you all but first I think I should warn you that this next song is not suitable for those with delicate sensibilities. It's all about bumping the ugliest of uglies, sinking the pinkiest of pinks and beating the meatiest of meats. I feel these descriptions alone will have ruined the surprise - I mean, what other song could I possibly be talking about?! - so without further ado I present my second selection. If this isn't what you would consider to be one of The Best Songs Ever then I fear you're in for wrecking if you don't get a-checking. That's something the cool kids say nowadays, right? Right! Onwards!

Prepare your head for a big fat portion of audio double penetration that is likely to leave your brain walking like a withered cowboy for the next few months.

 

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

Indie Education: Neutral Milk Hotel

Children, open your double LPs to the chapter on Neutral Milk Hotel.

A great start point for any indie initiate, to call Neutral Milk Hotel’s In The Aeroplane Over the Sea a seminal work in for 90s indie rock would be to do the album a disservice. In a sense, NMH invented the structure, the tropes, and illuminated the path that indie rockers have been taking since then. Much of the great (and less than great) music that has come out on indie and DIY labels and seen mainstream success in the last few years is beholden to the voodoo Jeff Mangum get up to on that disc.

While it’d be criminal to ignore the early work of NMH, On Avery Island is a bit of a deep cut for the uninitiated. Uneven and a bit shaky, there are moments of real genius and beauty on their first full length (“Naomi” especially is a stand out). Still, those seeking safe passage from certified square to hip cat might be cautioned to start later, with the more confident and self-assured Aeroplane.

Both timeless and anachronistic, Aeroplane is a fuzzed out, twisted lo-fi pop masterpiece, meant to be played loud and celebratory. The “pop” label took me awhile to come to; it squirms in your hands and resists categorization. The snotty, rambunctious punk of “Holland 1945” seems at odds with the folk psychedelica of “Two Headed Boy,” and yet it feels remarkably organic and of a piece. Whether he’s playing a lonely drunken waltz as on “Oh Comely” or bashing his guitar to splinters on “King of Carrot Flowers Pts. 2 and 3,” the voice, intensity, and sheer triumphant melodicism never wavers. The core of the album is unadulterated hooks. It’s pop alright, mutated and almost unrecognizable, but still pop.

 

06 Holland, 1945

 

At the center of it, rising up through the fuzz and those gorgeous horn arrangements is Mangum, singing in that strained, resonant voice. To say no one sings like Jeff Mangum would obviously be hyperbole, but the fact is, that voice is so distinct, like a dustbowl carnival barker singing Indian raga. Hearing him wail wail “I LOVE YOU, JESUS CHRIST” on “The King Of Carrot Flowers Pts 2 and 3” is like gospel for malnourished suburban kids; it blurs the line between the spiritual and secular without ever being tongue in cheek or ironic.

 

02 King Of Carrot Flowers Part 2 & 3

 

His lyrics are pure abstraction: utterly inscrutable, at times moving, other times chilling, always sincere. Much has been made of the supposed narrative of Mangum singing to his love, the reincarnated soul of Anne Frank (now in the body of a little Spanish boy) but I feel this is a red herring and that the album celebrates the surreal as emotionally resonant in a way that defies narrative.

Listen to “Oh Comely:” it’s over 8 minutes long and almost dada with lines like “Your father made fetuses with flesh licking ladies.” Still, when he rumbles the line “know all your enemies, we know who your enemies are,” there’s a feeling of real menace and heartbreak.

 

08 Oh Comely

 

Aeroplane, idiosyncratic and off-putting and yet simultaneously sublime, remains a legacy virtually unrivaled in indie rock. Much of this owes to Mangum’s much spoken-about personal breakdown and how thoroughly he was removed from the pop landscape. We were subsequently left with this unfathomable artifact, this joyous record of some of the strangest, most haunting pop songs you could ever hear. Required listening. 

 

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.

 

RFC Thinks You Should Know... Matt Jones

I usually like to get my adjectives in order before I begin discussing an artist, and, while shuffling through the thesaurus in my head, the best I could manage to describe Matt Jones was "lithe." True, it's a term heaped more often on strippers than indie folksters, but it seems oddly fitting to describe Jones' nimble, carefully orchestrated tunes. An Ann Arbor/Ypsi folk stalwart with an impending Daytrotter session, Matt Jones sings sly, beautiful songs in a sharp, controlled voice that at times is reminiscent of the Weakerthans, of Jeff Buckley, but with a slightly more theatrical bent.

To call the man and his music folk would be to do him a bit of a disservice: His album "The Black Path" (recorded with another AA music notable, Drunken Barn Dance's Jim Roll) is a stumbling, beautiful waltz through Americana as its only real genre. From opening rag/vaudeville of "Threadlines" to the evocative dustbowl instrumental "Antietam" (only lacking the Ken Burns narration to be convincingly antique) Jones is very much a graduate of School of Indie Anachronism.

Matt Jones - Jugulars, Bones And Blisters

Still, there's a a diversity to the approach that is refreshing: the dusty cowboy anthem "Jugulars, Bones and Blisters" is broken up by an unexpected synthesizer solo. "Waltzing With Lady Dawn" has a challenging, odd melody throwing touches of dissonance into it, held together by Jones' dancing voice.