forkcast tracks

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

"Psychic City (Voodoo City)"

YACHT
"Psychic City (Voodoo City)"

[DFA]

9
 

With Memorial Day behind us, time is ticking away on the search for the jam of the summer-- the song that will soundtrack a thousand sunburns while blaring from open car windows and backyard BBQs. It's a track that requires a delicate balance, needing to be easy to sing along to, but with a beat heavy enough that, even though sweat is dripping down the backs of your knees, you can't help but dance. It needs to be fun and immediately catchy, but able to withstand repeated plays without wearing out its welcome too soon (after all, we've got a long, hot few months ahead of us).

Here's another contender: YACHT's "Psychic City (Voodoo City)". Never before has the Portland electro duo sounded so joyous. Anything that bordered on pop this playful got muddled before with a slightly off-kilter melodic choice or some noisy electronic flourishes. But there is nothing to get in the way of this track's giddy bubble-popping effects, insistent yet rubbery groove, or big, summery chorus. Like Tom Tom Club's "Genius of Love", another great summer jam, it melds dispassionate, girlish talk-singing with squishy, bass-y synths and an infectious rhythmic drive. With lyrics snagged from a track on an old Rich Jensen K Records tape and a keyboard melody inspired by Althea and Donna's 70s reggae hit "Uptown Top Ranking", perhaps the specificity of its influences freed up Jona Bechtolt and Claire L. Evans to embrace a buoyant cohesion. And when YACHT sounds this good, it makes it easy to sail through the season.

MP3:> YACHT: "Psychic City (Voodoo City)"

— Rebecca Raber

"Down Down Da Drain"

Black Pus
"Down Down Da Drain"

[Corleone]

6

Working as Black Pus, Lightning Bolt drummer Brian Chippendale doesn't really care what you think about his music. A testimonial from a casual observer posted on the project's MySpace describes it as such: "That was like the musical equivalent of ripping your toenails off one by one. It was the worst thing I've ever heard." It's tough to disagree with the former. The music's distorted pulsating bass drone, shrill, incomprehensible vocals, and bone-snapping percussion are not particularly pedestrian, and to the unconditioned ear, sound like, well, much like I assume ripping your toenails out would feel. But Chippendale thrives on this kind of deconstruction, harnessing all of the carnage and managing it into something vaguely resembling song structure.

Never is that more traditionally handled than on Black Pus' recent single "Down Down Da Drain". A track that more closely resembles Einstürzende Neubauten and Liars circa Drum's Not Dead than spazzcore groups like Locusts that Lightning Bolt typically engender, "Down Down Da Drain" is as close to verse-chorus-verse as Chippendale will likely ever produce in this context. The screeching distortion that announces the song and military percussion march that devolves into a swirling bass cacophony would beg to differ, but even at the track's seven-minute–plus run time, it feels almost structured. Consider it more like pulling teeth.

— Chris Gaerig

"America"

8Ball
"America"

[8 Way]

7

Earlier this year, the veteran Southern MC 8Ball released Memphis All-Stars, a low-stakes underground solo album, jammed with budget beats and hometown guests, the sort of thing that's great if you love raspy bass-heavy shit-talk and very easy to ignore if you don't. But buried at the end of the album, there's a nine-minute left turn of a song called "Love Spoken".

Rescued from its album and stripped of its endless preacher intro, "Love Spoken" becomes "America", a great example of why this guy is revered in certain circles. The beat is a spare, eerie rhythm, a perfect foil for Ball's wizened tough-guy routine: "Raw when I spit it, take a minute 'fore you really get it/ Straight gutter lyrics like my motherfucking mouth shitted." When the third verse kicks in, though, he launches into some unexpectedly moving real talk: "I come from Memphis, Tennessee, whether you know it or not/ The city where Martin Luther King got shot/ My folks picked cotton, got no education/ Fought and made it easier for my generation/ And how we pay them back? We kill our own kind/ Murder innocent niggas who grind for they little shine."

When 8Ball says stuff like this, it carries weight. He's just spent two verses (or, really, 20 years) telling you about the gun in his waistband and his bulletproof car. He doesn't preach. He doesn't hector. His tone of voice doesn't change. He just lets out an inaudible sigh and tells you how he sees the world. He doesn't see a way out. He has no advice. It's some powerful shit.

— Tom Breihan

Monday, June 1, 2009

"Floor to Floor"

Teengirl Fantasy
"Floor to Floor"

[Self-Released]

7

Oh, get your mind out of the gutter. Teengirl Fantasy's name has nothing to with fantasies about teen girls, but rather the fantasies of them-- cute boys, baby animals, and rainbows that taste like mint chocolate chip ice cream, according to one "fan's" site. It's an appropriate handle. The dorm room project of Ohio students Logan Takahashi and Nick Weiss, Teengirl Fantasy's music is nothing but dreamy-- warm and ethereal like the pastel waterscape that decorates the cover of recent single "Floor to Floor". Pulling a classic bait and switch, the song opens with some garden-variety 8-bit glitch tinkering before a belching synth lets things loose at the one-minute mark. From there, it's straight coasting. Like a washing machine set to "gentle," the track's heavy bass bleeds into lush, aquatic synths, and stirred-in vocal samples (including jubilant cries of "do it, do it!"). The result is something akin to High Places' post-pop at its most buoyant, but informed more by house music and beat-heavy Top 40 hip-hop, and rather accomplished for two very young dudes working out of their bedrooms.

— Joe Colly

"Don't Haunt This Place"

The Rural Alberta Advantage
"Don't Haunt This Place"

[Saddle Creek]

7

Contrast the frantic drumming that kicks off this track, and maintains up this frenetic pace throughout, with the calm and steady presences of both a gentle humming organ and equally austere snippets of cello. Contrast Nils Edenloff's voice in the verses-- creaky, nasal, unsteady-- with his impassioned singing of the chorus, which might have folks reaching into their stacks (or playlists) for a quick hit of In the Aeroplane. Contrast both modes of Edenloff's singing with Amy Cole's demure (yet no less passionate) backing harmonies, a combination that might one a little nostalgic for Rainer Maria's salad days. And then look at the lyric, about an ex-couple's empty apartment that won't rid itself of its memories: "I wanna hurt, I wanna betray/ It's not like me to make your heart break." The words veer back and forth between being at peace and being in turmoil, between a wistfulness tinted with hindsight and a desperation soaked in regret. Though the title of the song might betray where the narrator's wishes lie, the song doesn't really choose sides-- it simply states its uncertain case in uncertain terms, and lets the friction between the drummer's frenzy and the remaining instruments' measured patience muddy these narrative waters in an intriguing and deceptively simple way. Say hello to the Rural Alberta Advantage.

— David Raposa

"It Ain't Gonna Save Me"

Jay Reatard
"It Ain't Gonna Save Me"

[Matador]

8
 

I don't want to oversell a guy who only months ago I was pretty sure had peaked on a Go-Betweens cover, but Jay Reatard is getting the hang of his gift fast. "It Ain't Gonna Save Me", from his forthcoming album Watch Me Fall, is more confident in its pop ambitions than last year's "See/Saw", which kind of fell back on old and proven anthemic devices. It's also more out-the-gate, and-- melody be damned-- suffocatingly punk. His increasingly bratty intonation, tin-tapping drums and "don't give a shit" toss-off are a nice façade for the real attractions here: defter chord changes, jangle worthy of Peter Buck, breakdowns that turn over so fast you blink and he's screaming the title again. Pop-punk, defined: the tune doesn't breathe until it's over, and by then you're disappointed you didn't have enough time to memorize the sing-along. Then you hit repeat.

— Dan Weiss

Friday, May 29, 2009

"Divinations"

Mastodon
"Divinations"

[Reprise]

9
 

The relationship a diehard fan has with a "first single" can be a tricky one, and perhaps even more so if we're talking metal. Generalizations aside, modern metal has become increasingly album-centric, and no other band has held this testament more sacred than Mastodon. And I'm not talking about the subject matter necessarily, be it whale or Russian mystic. Mastodon "singles", however divine and bloody they may be in their own right, are so much an integral part of the greater jigsaw of the LP that it's sometimes hard to look at a standalone cut and know if you're holding it right side up.

But this is why "Divinations" might be one of the greatest Mastodon moments yet, a blinding three-and-a-half minute crusher that not only exudes a confidence in its rock-radio readiness (trust me, I mean that in the most positive way possible), but manages to set the pace for the rest of Crack the Skye: How intricate and bold it was going to be, well, we weren't 100% sure, but we had a good enough idea where to start. The sinister, old-world banjo intro (conjuring visions far more depraved than anything this side of Deliverance) suggests that the vertical drop is imminent, and those brave enough to pry their fingers from the lap bar and throw their arms in the air better do so now. But "Divinations" isn't only for the true believers: Brent Hinds' vocals attain an aural dread that feels nearly overwhelming against increasingly proggy progressions, signifying a more complete vision-- not necessarily an eagerness to please. And with that, Mastodon were no longer a band to be revered, but a band that could no longer be ignored. Thrill us, chill us, drag us to hell-- just have the courtesy to give us a heads up before you do.

— Zach Kelly

"Hot Shyt" [ft. Peedi Crakk, Black Thought, 2Face, and Young Chris]

Wale
"Hot Shyt" [ft. Peedi Crakk, Black Thought, 2Face, and Young Chris]

[Self-Released]

8

"Hot Shyt" is a song about how rappers can't do anything with whatever fire they might happen to spit, a weird sentiment coming from an uber-hyped blog-rapper currently trying to get radio to play for his halfassed Lady Gaga collab. But the track, a quick little throwaway that Wale leaked on his Twitter, works a whole lot better than actual single "Chillin'" because it has force and urgency and virtuosity working for it. As in, like, the things that people actually want to hear from a hungry up-and-coming rapper.

To that end, Wale has made the commendable decision to drive two hours north from his native D.C., recruiting from the army of underappreciated rappers that's somehow become one of Philly's chief exports. Even Black Thought, the most famous of these guys, has lately been reduced to playing T-Pain to the Lonely Island dudes on Jimmy Fallon's running asskissfest. So it feels great to hear all these guys spitting breakneck silliness over chopped-up guitar and necksnap drums (Black Thought drops a Pitchfork reference here, I should mention.) Wale himself bats cleanup and barely appears on the track, which is fine, since it gives prime placement to Peedi Crakk's berserk Bugs Bunny yawp and Young Chris' gravelly bounce. These five-dudes-in-a-room-rapping songs have become a sad rarity lately, but the formula still works. Amazingly, Wale appears to be the only member of the vaunted XXL Freshmen 10 to realize this.

— Tom Breihan

"Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)"

Florence and the Machine
"Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)"

[Island]

7

The Kate Bush comparisons are easy-- a bit loopy, a bit tuneful-- but let's leave those to Bat for Lashes for now. I listen to "Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up)"-- the latest single from the young Londoner Florence Welch's forthcoming debut LP, Lungs-- and I hear Annie Lennox circa "Walking on Broken Glass". That is, an eccentric with a voice from the right side of soul who can't help but make songs that hit. Or maybe Beth Orton. But Orton never let her guard down long enough to make something this brash. Welch is a star, and this is a star-making song with a Max Martin-via-Tori Amos hook that you were born with. It just took a little while to discover.

"Radio ready" need not be a pejorative, not when the mixed-from-heaven harps, flutes, and choirs mesh into a dense Disney tapestry more bewitching than St. Vincent's latest. Meanwhile, Welch aims to convert with her Lewis Carroll-by-way-of-Greek myth mysticism. "Rabbit Heart" basically retells the tale of King Midas, i.e., the touch of gold is great until you want to touch something living, breathing, with lungs. "This is a gift, it comes with a price/ Who is the lamb and who is the knife?" she sings, adding some welcomed ambiguity to a Paul Epworth production that stunningly internalizes every pseudo-psych/freakishly-folk trend that's passed through these parts over the last few years. "The looking glass so shiny and new/ How quickly the glamor fades," wisely observes Welch. A gold record in every way.

— Ryan Dombal

Thursday, May 28, 2009

"Destination Tokyo"

Nisennenmondai
"Destination Tokyo"

[Smalltown Supersound]

6

It's not where you're from, it's where you're at. And on "Destination Tokyo", the title track from their forthcoming album on Smalltown Supersound, the women of Nisennenmondai seem to have situated themselves in a car on one of Germany's autobahns, humming along as an endless scroll of pavement unfurls beneath the wheels. Like much of the record it closes out, "Destination Tokyo" is pure krautrock in the steady-state mold, finding inspiration in the same "Hallogallo" beat that first got Stereolab on the rails. Is it possible to get tired of this sort of thing? Search me. But even if there's nothing original going on here, Nisennenmondai have a good ear for the kinds of details that make such a spacious and airy backdrop inviting. On last year's EP collection Neji/Tori, Nisennenmondai jumped from track-to-track quickly to see how much ground they could cover and what sort of chaotic racket they might squeeze from their instruments; "Destination Tokyo" is what they sound like when they take time to enjoy the scenery.

— Mark Richardson

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