forkcast tracks

Monday, June 15, 2009

"Dreamer"

Tiny Vipers
"Dreamer"

[Sub Pop]

8
 

There's something about the West Coast. I've never been, so I can't explain it, but for all its happy sunshine pop and gloriously liberal policies (Prop 8 notwithstanding), it's produced some of the darkest music I've ever laid ears upon. Hell, the Red House Painters single-handedly keep my utopian fantasies of San Francisco in check. And now Jesy Fortino-- better known as Tiny Vipers-- is doing the same to Seattle. Okay, the latter city isn't quite so cheery (cloaked as it is in constant drizzle), and its grungy reputation doesn't do it any favors, either. But where Kurt raged and bitterly struggled to exist, Jesy takes the Mark Kozelek approach, using an acoustic guitar to strum a single sad, slow melody, over and over, to impressive (albeit depressive) results. But let's dispense with comparisons, so we can focus on Fortino's most unique and, not coincidentally, valuable asset: her voice. A guttural warble in the best sense of the term, it's deep yet fragile and feminine-- and when it cracks with the high notes, it only accentuates her anguish, giving us a glimpse of a pain so private, we can't even begin to comprehend. The lyrics sure aren't offering any clues: with lines like "What can we learn when we can't understand?" and "What do these feelings mean?" Fortino offers more questions than answers. But when she grows quiet toward the end, focusing her energy to erupt in one last plea-- "I'm dying for a way out"-- it's impossible to misunderstand, and difficult to remain unmoved.


— Sean Redmond

"In the Dreamlife You Need a Rubber Soul"

The Clean
"In the Dreamlife You Need a Rubber Soul"

[Merge]

7

The song title and the jingle-jangle of what sounds like a Rickenbacker might make listeners think of the Beatles, while the tune's pastoral lilt (ably abetted by some ethereal harmonies) might recall the folky shimmer of the Go-Betweens. But whenever the Kilgour brothers and friends get together-- be it to chisel the Rosetta Stone that musicians of the indie persuasion all across the globe are still trying to decode, or simply to write songs as effortless and gorgeous as "In the Dreamlife"-- it always sounds like the Clean.  The lyrics' consideration of day-in day-out drudgery might be plain-spoken to a fault ("You wear the same face every day/ Worried that you might have a small hole in your soul"). However, when combined with the song's gently propulsive melody, these words are imbued with an honest wisdom, and the phrase "in the dreamlife, you need a rubber soul" transformed into a mantra that sounds like it could hold the answer to all of your troubles.


— David Raposa

"Birthday Sex (Remix)" [ft. R. Kelly]

Jeremih
"Birthday Sex (Remix)" [ft. R. Kelly]

6

As a precursor to R. Kelly's first major post-trial release, Untitled, the DJ Skee/DJ Drama-hosted mixtape The Demo Tape has reignited the conversation about whether the embattled R&B star is either relevant or, at very least, welcome in this industry anymore. Acquittal notwithstanding, Kelly has spent the past seven years as one of pop's most polarizing figures, surprisingly incapable of stunting his unpredictable creative output, especially in the looming shadow of enough legal paperwork to silence, or perhaps ruin, any other public figure of equal or greater standing. But maybe that's why we've stuck with Kelly, and despite the hollow catharsis exhibited on 2004's gospel offering, U Saved Me, the records he has released since his indictment have managed to remain as raunchy, bizarre, and enjoyable as anything else in their respective orbits.

So it's a relief that it's back to business with The Demo Tape, most notable on the Kelly-assisted remix of Jeremih's smash "Birthday Sex". It's actually kind of disappointing that Kelly doesn't have owners' rights to this thing, an impossibly silky headboard thumper that has Kelly's brand of funny, knuckleheaded horndoggedness written all over it. Mike Schultz's production is quite masterful in its own right, with its bongo raps and celestial twinkles reserved only for lap dances in zero gravity. But the real star is Kelly, with his slightly Auto-Tuned voice as buttery and recognizable as ever. Though really only giving the NC-17 tweak to Jeremih's lyrical construction (watch him nail that "Girl you know ay ay ay!" part), the larger statement taken here is that, like it or not, this is what R. Kelly does, and he can do it better than you can. Now go on, blow out those candles.

— Zach Kelly

Friday, June 12, 2009

"When They Fight, They Fight"

Generationals
"When They Fight, They Fight"

[Park the Van]

6

Diabetics take heed-- this is some sugary stuff, right here. New Orleans duo Generationals are Ted Joyner and Grant Widmer, two guys seemingly obsessed with the twist 'n' shout of yore, jam-packing their tunes with blasts of late-1960s sunshine pop. "When They Fight, They Fight" comes from the band's debut, Con Law, which spins a series of songs that don't stray far from "Fight"'s time-capsulated goodness. It comes as kind of a pleasant surprise to hear a band from N.O. sound this bright and enraptured in life's simple joys. But man, does this thing flirt with overdoing it. You'd have to be pretty cold-hearted not to raise some sort of a smile for those fun little bossa nova nods, big horns, and amateurish girl-group harmonies. However, if you don't happen to be spending your Sunday flipping through teeny-bopper magazines and kicking your legs in the air with delight, or watching the credits roll on the latest Zooey Deschanel eye-roller, "Fight" can feel just a tad too blithe for its own good.

MP3:> Generationals: "When They Fight They Fight"

— Zach Kelly

"Light #2"

Nosaj Thing
"Light #2"

[Alpha Pup]

7

Twenty-four-year-old Jason Chung, aka Nosaj Thing, isn't the first spelunker to bridge instrumental hip-hop, electronica, and a pinch of dub-- hell, he's not the thirtieth. So what's the story here? How his synths clink and bump off the walls like the Gemini Laser from "Mega Man 3"? How his hall-of-mirrors sound effects squeak and ding like a newborn Martian's busy box? How this is exactly what I'd expect Lindstrøm's Where You Go I Go Too to sound like if it went trolling for booty on a Saturday night? With almost no relation to the squelchy air-raid sirens of "Light #1", from the same album, Drift, here Chung offers a glitch-free paradise of dizzying columns of triggered arpeggios. He may risk more when a few albums removed from his debut, but for now let's bask in the anonymously beautiful. Cue up the trippy Windows Media Player visualization at your peril.

— Dan Weiss

"Periodically Double or Triple"

Yo La Tengo
"Periodically Double or Triple"

[Matador]

6

He starts off dismissing Proust for being "a little too long," and by the end of the song turns to Judge Judy for a verdict. In between these brows of varying height, Ira Kaplan makes like a sickly uncoordinated mope for whom slouching's too much work-- imagine if the words to "Summertime Blues" were written by a Brian Posehn kicking back more than the recommended daily allowance of Robitussin. But where the words to "Periodically Double or Triple" reek of a distinct lack of confidence, the actual tune more than makes up for that deficiency. The song's organ-based groove might recall any number of precedents-- our own Ryan Dombal hears Booker T.; I'm hearing a little Sun Ra and the Zombies, especially in the solo-- but that cozy little pocket Yo La Tengo occupies when they're in that groove is the sort of thing that can't be plagiarized. Add in some little touches that mean so much-- a tambourine here, some shooby-dooby back-up vocals there, and an out-of-nowhere elevator-music break-- and it's clear that Yo La Tengo, as ever, still own their little corner of the world.

MP3:> Yo La Tengo: "Periodically Double or Triple"

— David Raposa

Thursday, June 11, 2009

"Forever"

Ghostface Killah
"Forever"

[Self-Released]

7

Ghostface Killah is arguably the most prolific post-Wu-Tang member, so when rumors started to swirl about his next album being an R&B-inspired release-- or at least as R&B as the emcee can be-- a common response was likely a knowing shoulder shrug. A far cry from his weight-pushing slang rap of Fishscale and The Big Doe Rehab, "Forever" is basically what you might expect from a Ghostface R&B release: his signature deep storytelling, girl-you-so-fine rhymes, and Ghostface getting his grown man on. The song's lineage can most closely be drawn to Jay-Z's "Girls, Girls, Girls", from the poorly sung chorus to the East Coast hardcore rhyme spitter paying homage to his various women. Even the production sounds like a Roc-A-Fella classic (read: Kanye West beat), having the strings of Twista's "Overnight Celebrity" and the classic sample-flow weaving of so many of Kanye's greatest works. And that's to say nothing of Ghostface's pinpoint flows; he seems more focused and sharp, possibly having exhausted all of his crack-rap metaphors and being exposed to an entirely new, wordplay-ready topic.

Stream:> Ghostface: "Forever"

— Chris Gaerig

"Foreign Thoughts"

There Will Be Fireworks
"Foreign Thoughts"

[Self-Released]

6

There Will Be Fireworks is the latest entry into the already crowded field of climactic, emotional Scottish rockers-- see also: Frightened Rabbit, the Twilight Sad, We Were Promised Jetpacks, etc. And the Glaswegian quartet clearly picked their name hoping it would be the perfect introduction to their anticipatory, explosive music. And for the most part, it is. "Foreign Thoughts", for example, is a building, buzzing tune in which guitars and gutturally accented vocals keen with equal intensity. The ticking, tapping cymbals and insistently repetitive riffs that haunt the song's background illustrate the underlying unease of the track's protagonist, a girl who "barely sleeps, and when she does it's fitfully." Vocalist Nicholas McManus has a familiar brogue that calls to mind many of his musical countrymen, but he doesn't so much "sing" as spit his words rhythmically. And that percussive delivery (along with the way he coils run-on sentences tightly around his expressive, if not particularly dynamic, vocal melodies) makes him seem a bit like Craig Finn in a kilt, albeit without such clever, literary lyrics. "Foreign Thoughts" is a bit of a tease, though; its payoff-- the moment when its churning, itchy melody finally threatens to go over the edge-- is surprisingly unsatisfying given the theatrics of its build up. It's the product of a lot of volume and drama, as McManus shouts the final verses over a crescendoing hum of instruments, but the tune-- despite the band's best intentions, not to mention its moniker-- never quite  manages to detonate.

MP3:> There Will Be Fireworks: "Foreign Thoughts"

— Rebecca Raber

"Heavy Cloud Hustle"

Blind Man's Colour
"Heavy Cloud Hustle"

[Kanine]

6

"Heavy Cloud Hustle" by Blind Man's Colour-- does it get any more appropriate than that? I'm no synesthete, but the song brings pretty clear images to mind: relaxing on the beach, clouds grazing overhead, toes digging into the warm sand. But the pigment's missing, as if bleached, left out in the sun too long. I don't know where the warmth's escaped to, but those heavy clouds up there are awfully gray. Might even rain. This 19-year-old duo's got all the trappings of good tropicalia: sparkly glissandos over shimmery keyboards and all sorts of shaking and thumping percussion. But where's the melody? It's carried entirely by the vocals, which aren't quite up to the challenge. With a Flaming Lips-like spaceyness, they hover delicately but detached from the rest of the mix, like a disembodied narrator in a documentary. Sometimes it works-- the verses move in a Panda Bear shuffle that's just inviting enough to sway you like a palm tree. But then the chorus hits, everything slows down and stilted declarations like "I'll find these truths like a maniac" take center stage. They're hard and jarring, and without strong instrumentation to provide support, the song deteriorates into gloss and tropical pastiche. This repeats twice over the course of four minutes (though they could halve that by cutting down on aural white space), and then the last 45 seconds float away in a glassy psychedelic haze, swirling whites and grays and steely blues. A nice mood, but a bit more color would go a long way.

MP3:> Blind Man's Colour: "Heavy Cloud Hustle"

— Sean Redmond

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

"Kobe Bryant"

Lil Wayne
"Kobe Bryant"

[Self-Released]

5

Lil Wayne's forays into sports journalism are a lot like his forays into rock music: sure, get excited that OMG IT'S LIL WAYNE DOING IT!!!, but the truth is, he's really fucking bad at both. Fortunately, "Kobe Bryant" works from his position of strength-- as a fan, not as an X-and-O analyst. Even in these times, it's the sort of track we hardly get anymore, working for five entertaining minutes around a central athletic metaphor, and hot off the presses just in time for the Finals (he even offers condolences to LeBron James). Seriously, where was State Property when the Phillies needed them in October?

Still, I don't totally buy it: it's easy to admire Kobe's game as an aficionado, but his methodical, joyless pursuit of dominance stands in stark contrast with whatever it is Wayne does. Simply put, a more FreeDarko player deserves Wayne's plaudits, and you can't tell me that, up to and including a love of illegal substances, BET celebrities, legal troubles, and terrible tattoos, Wayne didn't have a million reasons to pull for the Nuggets instead. Decent track, some nice punchlines, and hell, it's great to hear Wayne rapping without Auto-Tune and sounding excited about it, but demerits for a) robbing us of the Chris Andersen mixtape we all deserve; and b) Wayne not going the whole nine to commemorate Kobe's stillborn rap career with a Tyra Banks hook.

— Ian Cohen

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