(Let it be known that I'm referring to the original, side-spanning, 17 minute, glorious full version of this song.) I'm always amazed when I'm listening to this that a song with so many orgasms could get so much airplay. Seriously, there's an orgasm every thirty seconds or so in this song, which makes for--and this is an estimate--about thirty orgasms. But they're completely understandable in context because this is what sex is supposed to sound like: shimmery, breathy, and totally funky. Moroder and Summer is a partnership that belongs in the pantheon of awesome partnerships right alongside Bacharach and Warwick, or Spector and The Crystals, or any other great partnership...
150! It feels like we were at 100 only yesterday, or maybe about fifty days ago. To honor this momentous milestone, let's all listen to one of the coolest chicks of the 20th century. Ms. Baker was not only a talented singer and actress, but a talented French spy too! How cool is that? She could sings songs as catchy as this one and spill American secrets at the same time. Respect.
Nice, jaunty, 6/8 tune from the Master in his '70s prime--but if the leaked tracks from his forthcoming Small Craft On A Milk Sea are any indication, Mr. Eno may be currently going through a second prime, if that's even possible, a good thirty years after his first.
This song was technically released by Wir, but Wir is really just legendary post-punk-ers Wire in the early '90s after Robert Gotobed left the group. Why they dropped the "e" for such a short period of time is somewhat of a mystery--at least to me--and it's kind of a stupid idea. That said, the loss of the final letter didn't result in the loss of songwriting ability. "So And Slow It Grows" is a choppy, new-wave-y, rave-y dance track that's as catchy as it is weird. And while it, like the rest of Wire's dance music, isn't quite as amazing as the stuff on Pink Flag, Chairs Missing, or 154, it's still worth your time.
Lo-fi acoustic post-punk? Sounds like something I could get into. And that's more or less what Pink Reason is: a doomy, gloomy, Joy Division-y post-punk group with Jandek acoustic strumming and absolute shit production. "Storming Heaven" is their album Cleaning The Mirror's centerpiece, a brooding seven-minute dirge full of wailing fuzz and dissonance.
This piece is just awesome. It consists of various hand percussion patterns that basically never repeat, shift meter and tempo like it's their job, and are each intricate and interesting in their own right. Like the best Middle Eastern music, the tune has a droning effect--despite the frantic, kinetic, non-repeating nature of the percussion. While it's sparse, it's anything but simple. They should've declared war on us for having collectively subpar composition abilities.
The first half of this song--the "Zombie Warfare" bit, perhaps--is a driving cock-rock anthem, albeit with a little bit of post-punk, proto-industrial clatter in the mix. Then it breaks down into some noise before reemerging as a skittery, jittery, Butthole-y, Jesus Lizard-y, "Ritual Feast of the Libido"-y, apocalyptic punk nightmare--presumably the "Can't Let You Down" portion. Overall, a great song and a wonderful testament to the obscure influential-ness of Chrome.
I saw Massive Attack last night, and it was arguably the best show I've seen this year. They're just so freaking cool, and their music is so freaking good. And, while they didn't play this particular song, I was certainly thankful for what I got.
My favorite Prince song changes from week to week, even day to day. Today, well, it's "Controversy". Hailing from the slightly forgettable album of the same name, "Controversy" shows off Prince at his absolute funkiest. Skittering guitar riffs and Zapp-y synths are aflutter as Prince sings "Do I believe in God/Do I believe in me"--a sentiment that, while arguably cliche, is provocatively likable. That the organ follows the melody adds that perfect maximalist punch that nearly every Prince tune has. Hearing songs like this and albums like, well, almost every album Prince has ever made makes me proud to say that Prince Rogers Nelson is among the most talented musicians ever. Top ten. Quote me.
All Joy Division song are devastating, but what makes "The Eternal" even more devastating than the rest is its restraint. It goes on for over six minutes all synth-y and whisper-y, and it never explodes. It's placid. It's so icy and disconnected, and that's because the music is simple and accessible. Ian Curtis, as he sings about funerals and dying children, sounds defeated--and judging by the context in which this song was recorded, he probably was. "The Eternal" is a ballad of the dying, of the weak, of the defeated, and it's also one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard.
This is one of Bruce Haack's most downright fun songs, which is saying a lot considering his catalogue. A pulsing, glitchy, minimal rock n' roll tune about the titular woman, "Rita" is both a party-starter and a thought-provoker.
Whether or not this is truly a song is up for debate--at over forty-five minutes it fills an entire album--but I don't really care about that. What I care about is that "OV" is one of the more impressive pieces of music I've heard. Its minimalism is hypnotic despite it being painfully aggressive and extremely heavy, and that it doesn't let up even for a second proves it to be an endurance test for anyone with a pair of ears. What's most impressive is that it's the work of two men, a guitarist and a drummer, and they play at speeds and frequencies that most accomplished musicians just can't replicate. And they play this way without stopping for the better part of an hour.
I like this song for its meekness, its bounce, its proto-Yo La Tengo sloppiness, its unique timbres, its diverse styles, its cleverness, and its lack of pretension. But, more importantly, I like it because it makes me happy.
I liked this song, from Panda Bear's underheard Young Prayer, for a while just because of its catchy, multitracked, repeated, minimalist vocal hook. It's catchy. It sounds cool. But after really concentrating on the lyrics for the first time last week and hearing what those voices are actually saying, I like the song ten times better. When taken in the context in which the song was written (shortly after the death of Noah Lennox's father), the song becomes unbearably beautiful and heartbreaking (in addition to being catchy and sounding cool).
Listening to Dan Deacon gives you the best kind of headache you could ever want--but, as noisy as he gets, Deacon knows when to pull back those hard-hitting, primitive electronic blurps and prove that he's a truly gifted artist/composer. "Snake Mistakes" contains a few of the most manic, maximalist minutes on my hard drive, but it's most memorable for its stunning vocoder'd breakdown: "My dad is so cool..."
What? You don't know A.C. Roberts? I'm just kidding. I bought his CD, Bagpipe Classics, at a gas station in Arkansas about five years ago because, weird little 13-year-old I was, I was obsessed with bagpipes and rural gas stations. This rendition of "Amazing Grace" is actually pretty nice, though; he and his bagpipes do justice to one of Western civilization's most recognizable tunes. (P.S. I can't believe I found that image.)
"Gone Beyond" is just a really pretty, simple folk song. It's got just a few words, some fancy guitar-work, and a bunch of quiet but driving percussion. And in the context of Meek Warrior, the moderately challenging free-folk album from which it comes, it's especially refreshing. Over the last few days, actually, it might be my most played song.