The Best and Brightest of 2011: Day Five

A great song will make you nostalgic about somewhere you never visited, guilty of a crime you never committed, long for someone you’ll never meet.  It doesn’t matter if the lyrics line up to what you’re living, because at that moment all you’re living is the story of that song.  So when Ryan Adams asks “I don’t remember, were we wild and young?,” you wonder.  You even doubt a bit.  And this is why we’re happy to see him back to form.

Lucky Now, Ryan Adams (Live in Denver, 9/15/11)

In the midst of a (rare?) bout of melodrama nearly one year ago, I posted a playlist on the eve of my first day of work at my new job.  With a complete absence of any irony whatsoever, one of the tracks was entitled “Risk of Change.” All overwrought emotion aside, I think this is artist worth watching.  Take a listen.

Risk of Change, Holcombe Walker

Ryan Adams Returns to Brilliance in Sadness

I couldn’t be happier to report that Ryan Adams is once again singing sad songs.  After featureless forays into dozens of genres and joyless diversions into ostensibly happier topics, Ryan has returned to the sad storytelling that made albums like “Heartbreaker” so brilliant.

In a fit of nostalgic indulgence, I’ve actually got this CD on pre-order from Amazon.  There’s something about listening to the full fidelity of an album like this, with a real stereo system, without a computer in sight.  I should have it in my hands next Wednesday or so; I encourage you to do the same.

Here’s “Dirty Rain,” the track that leads off the album.

Dirty Rain, Ryan Adams

The Next Girl Talk?

Wait, those are the hallmark bleeps of Postal Service… hold on, isn’t that Wonderwall–  but the version by Ryan Adams before he went off and married Mandy Moore and made that weird hard rock record in-between screeds that he would post on his website and then try to retract, and then is that a Radiohead track (it’s several, actually), and then did I just pick up bits from Morcheeba, Simian, Blur and even Bob freaking Marley?

If this sounds like a Girl Talk experience, it’s similar.  I distinctly remember the first time I heard Girl Talk: it was as if, all of a sudden, all the neurons tied in with my musical memory were firing simultaneously.  Think Limitless, but with music and without all the terrible movie bits.

But this song is different.  Despite Girl Talk’s genius (yes, I used that word), if we’re being honest we’ll admit that he knows only one tempo: full-out dance party.  Neither he nor anyone around him have every really managed to achieve the same kind of cultural cuisinart with tunes that are more cinematic and chill.  Until now.

A duo by the name of Inspired Flight has created a Girl Talk-esque track that manages to fire up all the parts of your musical brain while still staying smooth.  A sprawling, seven minute track that just set the benchmark for what a downtempo mash-up could be.  Brilliant, and just ready to be picked up by a movie that wants to re-invent what a lead soundtrack song could be.  And, in the interim, to be enjoyed on repeat play.

Wonderwall Remix, Inspired Flight

John, Get Out of the Way of These Lyrics (x2)

The only thing I will say, before getting out of the way, is that my heart and thoughts go out to several people out there who are hurting right now.

New untitled #1, Ryan Adams (Live)

Helplessness Blues, Fleet Foxes

Welcome Back, Old Friend

After years of forgettable wanderings that led me to wonder aloud that if some musicians are doomed to suck once they reach success, Ryan Adams has returned with a track worth savoring and sharing even as snippets caught with cell phones.

Here’s a performance of “Dirty Rain” from a few days back.

And, a download of a different snippet of the same song performed at a fundraiser for 826LA (one of the astonishingly worthwhile tutoring centers founded by Dave Eggers).

Dirty Rain (partial), Ryan Adams

Welcome back, old friend.

30 Words of Music, Day 9: Autumn

As the leaves fall and the days shorten, I’ve found myself subconsciously shifting the songs that track my days.  The anthems and unabashed jams of the summer are giving way to subtler, more contemplative tracks.

On a long walk through a rustle of leaves, here are three songs that paint stories that are as vivid as they are thought-provoking.  None of these are new, but they’re all keepers.

The first, from PJ Harvey, takes you to a rooftop in Brooklyn and a moment you’re not likely to forget.

You Said Something, PJ Harvey

The next, from Ryan Adams’ old demo tapes, sits you down on a bar stool and the people who revolve– if not depend– upon it.

West NY Serenade, Ryan Adams

The last, from Iron & Wine (also known as Sam Beam, also known as Scott Meek if you’re looking only at the beard), is as beautifully crafted as it is depressing.

30 Words of Music, Day 7: Place

I’ve just wrapped up a week with 42 amazing people from 19 different countries.  Spending a virtually uninterrupted block of time with people from such a broad swath of the world filled me with a still-to-be-processed stockpile of thoughts and emotions, but among these something simple stood out: pride for the City of Chicago.  For you city-dwellers out there keeping score, the chi is doing great, thank you very much.

Such is my pride that I’ve pulled together some Chicago-themed songs, with nary an ironic wink in sight.  Proof positive of the power of place in music.

Kanye, coming home.

Ryan Adams, writing to the City and what could have been.

Dear Chicago, Ryan Adams

Wilco, on the City and where it could take them.

Via Chicago, Wilco

And Common, elder statesman of the Chicago rap scene (given a nod of respect in Kanye’s video above) talking about his home town.

Interestingness for the Interim

Yo.  Wrist is put back together but still crazy hurts when I type, so I’ll stick to a quick highlight of three great new songs that I’m feeling and think you might too: one from a new genre, one a new cover of an old favorite, and a new alt-ish country crooner.

For the adventurous among you, a new *genre* has popped up recently: Moombahton.  It’s Dutch house music screwed down to sound like Reggaeton’s interesting little brother.  Check a bit here and below.

Metele Bellaco

Okay, admittedly that was a bit different.  For the not so out there of you out there, here’s an interestingly chillaxed Pumpkins cover by Passion Pit.

Tonight, Tonight (Smashing Pumpkins Cover), Passion Pit

And for those of you a bit adrift since Ryan Adams went off to marital bliss with Mandy Moore, here’s another Ryan whom we should at least give a listen.

Southside of Heaven, Ryan Bingham

Lots more to share, will see y’all again soon.

Note: this post was posted one-handed.

<<bow>>

(ouch)

Day 26: A Song that You Can Play on an Instrument

With the digitally driven democratization of music creation, what can we call an instrument these days?  Who qualifies as a musician?

As it often is, the purist’s argument is tempting.  It’s easy to clear one’s throat, gather the right gravitas of righteous indignation, and proclaim that instruments are what instruments have been: the presence of a demo version of Garage Band on your Mac doesn’t create music any more than does Guitar Hero.

As a music fanatic, I almost feel compelled to take a stand on this side of exclusivity.  The respect I have for live musicians borders on reverence, and its rarity elevates the impact of this talent.

But here’s the thing: I have (almost) enough respect for what people can create through the re-mix.  The ability to take create an entire song around a sample is the background of hip-hop music.  With that fact, the turntable became an instrument.  And the more recent technology that enables us to create music from a hyper-kinetic tableau of pop culture (think Girl Talk) has turned the laptop into an instrument.  Yes, it has.

Now just because you know how to loop a beat doesn’t mean that you have musical talent.  Trust me, I know this from experience.  Aside from spectacularly futile short-term jaunts with the clarinet and the guitar, I’ve had no success whatsoever with traditional instruments.  I guess that’s one of the reasons that I’ve been drawn to dj-ing: considering my creation as the selection and sequencing of music.  Using ideas and juxtapositions and builds to create and bend moods and atmospheres.  I’m still somewhat amateurish at it, but it’s quite fun and quite the creative challenge.  Here’s an old mix that I hadn’t shared digitally prior to now.  Enjoy this mix from 2003, I’d imagine for some of you it will be a nice bit of nostalgia and for others perhaps a bit of a musical discovery.  If all goes well, you should be able to click here and download the zip file with the music.  If that link doesn’t cooperate, try this one: http://www.mediafire.com/file/ujvy1tnzydo/Holiday%20Mix%202003.zip

And here’s the track list.  Do hope you enjoy it, holler if there’s anything that you’re particularly liking.  Am I a musician?  Probably not.  But an improving dj?  Perhaps.

Day 23: A Song that You Listen to When You’re Sad

Sadness is such a consistently powerful fuel for musical creativity that it leads one to wonder: how successful can a musician be before (s)he starts to suck?  Take, for example, someone who once was one of the saddest, most shockingly talented songwriters in recent memory: Ryan Adams.

After a short stint with the awesomely-named Patty Duke Syndrome, Ryan set off with the band Whiskeytown.  Together, the band wrote beautifully depressing music that dripped with emotion and authenticity (and more than a few drips of whiskey, no doubt).  A classic couplet from the song I’ve put below:

Could go out tonight, but I’m not sure what for.  Call a friend or two, I don’t know many more.

Sit & Listen To The Rain, Whiskeytown

With their initial records, Whiskeytown enjoyed some success.  But, thankfully, not nearly enough to overcome their profound sad bastard-ness.  Ryan set off on his own and made the must-own album entitled (appropriately enough) “Heartbreaker.”  Paired with Emmylou Harris on backing vocals, here’s one of the best tracks on the record: “Oh My Sweet Carolina.”  This track plays out one of Adams’ most powerful skills: the ability to tell a pretty powerfully-moving story in few mere minutes; a story told in a way that you feel there.  You may have only been below the Mason-Dixon to visit Disney, but this song will take you to San Antonio.