forkcast tracks

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

"Young Hearts Spark Fire"

Japandroids
"Young Hearts Spark Fire"

9
 

Japandroids are two guys from Vancouver who make distortion-cranked garage-rock anthems about fleeting youth: the boys leaving town, drinking, hurting, French kissing some French girls, and then quitting girls altogether. Their debut album, Post-Nothing, was originally going to be self-released last fall, but now it's set to come out this spring, in Canada only, on Unfamiliar. "Young Hearts Spark Fire" is just one of the raggedly emotive standouts on the record, young hearts igniting the duo's stripped-down drums-and-guitar setup into an explosive thing, equal parts insolence and grandeur.

"We used to dream/ Now we worry about dying," members Brian King and David Prowse cry out, in the kind of doomed-romantic instant quotable we used to get from fellow Canadians the Constantines. The whole song hinges on this contrast between innocence and destruction. It's tuneful and universal enough to have been produced as a radio-ready pop-punk single, but it has the kind of volatile churn you'd expect from a band known to cover Mclusky's "To Hell With Good Intentions", which helps to make all its conflicted emotions sound-- for lack of a less controversial word-- real. "I don't wanna worry about dying/ I just wanna worry about those sunshine girls," Japandroids conclude. "Only the Good Die Young" was bullshit-- these guys are too young, and too good, to burn out just yet.

MP3:> Japandroids: "Young Hearts Spark Fire"

— Marc Hogan

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

"Tunnelvision"

Here We Go Magic
"Tunnelvision"

7

Sometimes, it's worth gritting your teeth through a little tedium to get to the good stuff. I'm thinking of Joyce Carol Oates stories in Harper's, stealth sections in video games, and the opening stretch of indie-folk musician Luke Temple's (now fronting a band called Here We Go Magic) "Tunnelvision". It begins as a fairly innocuous folk-rock jam-- clip-clopping percussion and craggy acoustic guitar simmer in a four-track haze, Temple's high voice flying overhead like a banner in the wind. But something happens along the way-- the track picks up buried vocal harmonies like rolling snowball, and little flights of lyricism attach to the underside of the hard-charging riff, which takes on an air of inexorability. Gradually, "Tunnelvision" earns its title, moving so purposefully forward that you can feel your own lateral perspective blanking out, eyes fastened on the prize.

MP3:> Here We Go Magic: "Tunnelvision"

— Brian Howe

"Now We Can See"

The Thermals
"Now We Can See"

7

The last we heard from the Thermals about Now We Can See, the band's upcoming fourth LP (and Kill Rock Stars debut), vocalist Hutch Harris said it was going to be "Long, for us." However unlikely that might have seemed for the consistently laconic Oregon punkers, we have our first bit of proof with the title track "Now We Can See", coming in at a long-winded 3:30! Nevertheless, I think it's safe to say that even if your average Thermals fan has the attention span of an average Thermals song, "Now We Can See" we'll be embraced as the certifiable rave-up that it is, easily becoming one of their best tunes yet. It's the perfect kind of bursting-at-the-seams power-pop gem, with big "Oh-way-oh-a-whoa" sing-along, tight guitar work, and a gleeful earnestness that's as freeing as it is fist-pump worthy. In other words, if you've ever wondered what the Thermals would sound like if they were the house band at your favorite bar, "Now We Can See" makes it pretty obvious that they'd sound sublime, full of vim, vigor, and starry-eyed resolve.

MP3:> The Thermals: "Now We Can See"

— Zach Kelly

"Echononecho"

Mi Ami
"Echononecho"

6

San Francisco's Mi Ami are carrying the same calling card that a lot of bands are liable to wave in 2009: drum-centric punk with Afro-pop leanings, punched up with noise and lo-fi experimentalism for good measure. And that's not a slight, for this band who caught our attention with an excellent remix of Telepathe's "Devil's Trident". Two years after the dissolution of their D.C. punk outfit Black Eyes in 2004, guitarist and vocalist Daniel Martin-McCormick and drummer Damon Palermo started Mi Ami, adding bassist Jacob Long in 2007 to round out the trio. "Echononecho" comes from the A-side their new 12" of the same name, and dares to make sense of their MySpace's awesome-yet-dubious name-checking (Minutemen and Don Cherry both get shout-outs). The track is no doubt jammy, sounding something like Ponytail tripping out on last year's Nigerian Special compilation complete with dubby bass grooves, banshee yowls (yes, that is apparently Martin-McCormick on high-pitched vocals), and squealing guitars rising from a primordial soup of polyrhythms. As for the debut full-length Watersports, consider our interest piqued.

— Zach Kelly

Monday, March 2, 2009

"Lay It Down (The Golden Filter Remix)"

Peter Bjorn and John
"Lay It Down (The Golden Filter Remix)"

6

"After 'Young Folks' took off so hard, it was embarrassing not having an equally good follow-up." That's Peter Bjorn and John's Björn Yttling, explaining the single the Swedish pop trio released just after the song that launched a thousand covers/remixes. And he's right. As good as "Let's Call It Off" still is, you probably can't whistle its steelpan line from memory; both lyrically and as a would-be hit, it's the glum morning after to its more famous Writer's Block predecessor. PB&J must've learned their lesson, and now they're threatening to teach us one, too.

"Lay It Down" and "Nothing to Worry About", the first two songs we've heard from the band's upcoming Living Thing, manage to match the language-defying accessibility of "Young Folks" while also being surprising, confrontational, and distinctive. A combatively jaunty electro-pop barroom singalong you'll probably never hear in an AT&T commercial? A rhythm-oriented diss track with "D.A.N.C.E."-style kid vox centered around two wobbly chords recalling "Proud Mary"? Fuddy-duddies who would've rather gotten a sensitive, literate, middlebrow indie-pop album are gonna be pissed, but a lot of other people should be warming up their iTunes/eMusic fingers (or grabbing "Lay It Down", the lead single from the album in Europe and Australia, for free here. "Nothing to Worry About" will be the first single in the U.S., the UK, and Scandinavia.)

After Diplo, Girl Talk, Kanye West, and a host of others remixed or sampled songs from Writer's Block, PB&J's new stuff is already making the remix rounds. The Golden Filter, a whispery New York-based nu-disco act with an anonymity shtick and ridiculous interview responses, are up first. Widely posted in the blog-house circuit last year for their gauzy "Solid Gold", the Golden Filter follow up a fine remix of Cut Copy's "Far Away" with this hypnotic, seven-minute take on "Lay It Down", which works a bit better than it probably should. "Hey, shut the fuck up, boy!"-- it's a feeling that transcends genre. And now you can meditate to it.

MP3:> Peter Bjorn and John: "Lay It Down (The Golden Filter Remix)

— Marc Hogan

"Yeahhh"

Lil Wayne
"Yeahhh"

6

Yes, three H's. That's the point: excess. It's all over new tape Hottest Ni**a Under the Sun. Mook-rock guitars? Yeah. "Purple Rain" solo w/ falsetto? Yeahh. And-- perhaps most shockingly-- an actually-hilarious verse from Mack Maine? Yeahhh. I mean, bitching about something like "Prom Queen" is like bitching about insects devouring each other on Discovery-- it's disgusting, it's horrible, it's fascinating. Then you flip it off. It's over, onto the next thing. No big deal. Breathe.

Lil Wayne doing rock isn't like Andre doing rock, i.e., dude is still rapping lines around throats, heads, torsos, whatever. Like on "Yeahhh". The song has a rock beat, I guess. But if rock is what's getting Wayne this hyped, give this man his rock. This is throat-jumping-out-of-mouth Wayne, as seen on "Playing With Fire" mixed with go-go-no-hook Wayne, as seen on "A Milli". It's like he's stuck in that space where you realize your entire arm is on fire and people turn into scorching skeletons when you tap them on the shoulder. You know what I mean? No? You are not Wayne.

My favorite line isn't the best line: "Yes, I am a dog/ Now watch me catapult a boy." Right: It's raining pets, hallelujah. But it's the way "catapult a boy" comes out: "cat-a-pult-a-boy," like "cat" is cutting the rope and the "a-pult-a" is the big spoon flying and "boy" is the boulder breaking through a castle wall. Nobody uses catapults in real life anymore, and that's a shame. But there's a lyricism to such ancient weaponry. The angle, the arc, the impact. They flow, in other words. And they hit.

— Ryan Dombal

"Wind Phoenix"

Cymbals Eat Guitars
"Wind Phoenix"

8
 

There's a certain strain of indie rock that excels at exuberance. From Built to Spill's "In the Morning" to Modest Mouse's "Doin' the Cockroach" to Pavement's "Stereo", you can get some serious uplift from chiming guitars, a ramshackle rhythm section, quiet/loud dynamics, and a dude who's ready to put it all out there vocally, even if he's not Jeff Buckley.

New York's Cymbals Eat Guitars, whose remarkably assured debut album Why There Are Mountains came out digitally recently, understand something about the infectious spirit of that era. Mountains' "Wind Phoenix" is just a bit over five minutes long, but it feels like three great songs climbing all over each other that somehow manage to exceed the sum of their parts. Opening with a jubilant horn refrain, it skips along on a tuneful melody, slows down, ramps up to a climax, sticks with it for a while, and then crashes back down to its opening section. It's breathless, forceful, loose but not sloppy, and brimming with a sense of joy. Singer Joseph Ferocious says something about an "Ikea finery" and watching Notre Dame; the details aren't all clear, but you get a sense of someone fighting hard to get it all in. With so many ideas and feelings spilling out at once, there's not a song built that can quite contain them.

MP3:> Cymbals Eat Guitars: "Wind Phoenix"

— Mark Richardson

Friday, February 27, 2009

"My Girls"

Animal Collective
"My Girls"

9
 

So, yeah, the new Animal Collective album Merriweather Post Pavilion is incredibly good. For me, "My Girls", the danceable and insanely catchy ode to the bonds of family sung by Panda Bear, was the record's first "I need to play this song 10 times in a row right now" moment.

— Mark Richardson

"Counterpoint"

Delphic
"Counterpoint"

6

Whether or not Delphic took their name from the ancient site of the Greek oracle, it appropriately hints at the band's neo-classical sensibilities. Their debut single, "Counterpoint", produced by Ewan Pearson and released on R&S Records (Aphex Twin, Derrick May) in April, bears all the post-Joy Division (and pre-Oasis) Manchester hallmarks-- bold synth, piston-like rhythm, guitar as, erm, counter, not focal, point. But Delphic are ultimately more evocative of their locale than devotional, using familiar parts to assemble a unique whole. And assemble they do on this steadily building epic, each section interlocking with mathematical precision. Even more impressive, as calculated as "Counterpoint" is, there's genuinely felt payoff, formal construction be damned. Frontman James Cook may insist "nothing's wrong today," but the truth is he's being unnecessarily defensive: no one would have even thought to ask.

Stream:> Delphic: "Counterpoint"

— Jonathan Garrett

"Never Had Nobody Like You"

M. Ward
"Never Had Nobody Like You"

6

There's sort of a custom in music journalism-- actually, it's too blindingly obvious to call it even that-- where before you interview a performer about their new record, you're supposed to, uh, actually listen to that new record. When I had a chance to speak with M. Ward for a now basically defunct monthly back in 2003, his then-current album, Transfiguration of Vincent, was still a day away from showing up in my mailbox. I was still plenty naïve enough to be terrified, but as I recall, the Portland, Ore., singer-songwriter (now of She & Him fame) was generously affable and understanding about the whole blunder.

Ward's music has evolved since then, most recently on 2006's Post War, but its essential character hasn't. Even then, it was easy to get a general idea of what the new Ward record would sound like, rooted as he is in the basic idioms of folk and Americana. But describing the "Revolution" overdrive, "Nightclubbing" beat, rollicking piano fills, and the bluesy, laidback melodies of upbeat love ditty "Never Had Nobody Like You" still doesn't explain why this sounds so obviously like Ward and not, say, Dr. Dog. Would it help if I noted that She & Him partner Zooey Deschanel adds another chapter to Volume One with her straightforward backing vocal here? Ward's smoke-ringed voice aside, it's all a big shift from the lonesome orchestration of "Hold Time". Sure sounds nice next to his twangy 2005 cover of Pete Townshend's "Let My Love Open the Door", though.

MP3:> M. Ward: "Never Had Nobody Like You"

— Marc Hogan

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