Chromatics - Running Up That Hill

Chris already talked yesterday about what was special about Kate Bush’s original penning of the landmark “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)”, and the 2007 cover by Chromatics, by most marks, sticks very close to that original. Drawn from Night Drive, Chromatics first record as a synth pop quartet, it functions in the context of that record as a frame for both the romantic content of the record and for Chromatics’ sound for the coming years.

Though Bush’s original version was by no means boisterous, Johnny Jewel and Ruth Radelet flay the track and lay it bare. Radelet’s breathy, stark delivery and Jewel’s more minimal production function as a near antithesis to Bush’s siren song. Though I could pen a whole thesis on the thematic relation of “Running Up That Hill” to Night Drive, Night Drive to Symmetry, and Symmetry to Kill For Love, I have neither the time nor the space. Just know that this track, though a cover, is central to understanding the Chromatics’ canon. And hey, it’s pretty damn good on its own as well.

-Colin

Letting Up Despite Great Faults - In Steps

Let’s ignore the weird name and get right down the essence of Letting Up Despite Great Faults’ music. They’re a 4 piece band that melds electronic beats with a shoegaze aesthetic into an ethereal dreamscape of sound. The thing I really love about them is that they never stray into the boring (or at least dreary), which is the sort of thing that, for me, can happen within this realm of music. And sure ‘background’ music for want of a better term has its place in the music world, but a lot of the time I still prefer to be engaged by whatever I’m listening too.

LUDGF, as I will refer to them, do this brilliantly. The whispery vocals, mixed with upbeat and catchy hooks, make each listen an active journey rather than a passive one. ‘In Steps’ is the perfect example of this, and it’s my favorite song off of their 2009 self-titled debut. It encapsulates everything I love about them. If the album itself didn’t work so well cohesively I’d probably be listening to this on repeat a lot, but the entire thing is best listened to in one go. So give this opening song a shot, and I’ll bet you’ll be looking for the rest.

-Leslie

Lush - I Have The Moon

The Magnetic Fields. There’s really no way I can fully express how much I love the songwriting of Stephin Merritt or the insane amount of great music he’s put out over the last two decades, so I’ll just leave it at this: I really like the Magnetic Fields. And while I’m a pretty huge fan of their entire discography, there’s something really special about their 90s output that puts most of it a cut above their later work and, hell, most music in general.

The Charm of the Highway Strip , from 1994, is often called Merritt’s country album;  while the programmed synthesizers and lo-fi production that pervade most of his 90s work is the same, there’s a twang to the melodies and a classic storytelling in the lyricism that really gives it a strong personality within his body of work. On some tracks, Merritt will make some pretty obvious references to country music, but on other tracks, like “I Have The Moon,” the sound is less obvious.

Lush’s take on the song is a blindingly pretty dream pop tune, the synthesized sounds of the original replaced with bright guitar arpeggios and Merritt’s deep croon replaced with Miki Berenyi’s sweet, airy vocal. Maybe surprisingly, it’s a transition that works really well. While the original obviously has a certain charm and works in the context of The Highway Strip, I actually prefer Lush’s version a lot of the time. Even more surprising, I think Lush’s cover highlights “I Have The Moon“‘s country elements. Nobody would call this version country, but it retains the deep sense of melancholy that the original has in spades. And I think ultimately, this is what defines The Highway Strip as an album.

-Ryan

Beach House - Master of None

I spent way too much time trying to figure out which Beach House song I would write about. Way too much, but for good reason. Beach House is one of the few bands for me who discography straddles near perfection, almost devoid of any hiccups. No, the tracks aren’t all just consistently good. They’re amazing. For me, they fill that role in my life of being the one band that “I love too much to have a favorite song”. I’d feel silly to say something fanboyish along the lines of “Beach House is my lyfe 4ever” but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t any truth to that. I try to make my listening experiences with my favorite bands very personal, which is why I never expect anyone to agree with some of these choices. Another result is that there’s also some added on meaning behind tracks, thus making the task of choosing one Beach House song to write about one a rather arduous task.

I could’ve wrote about “Walk In The Park” and how it was one of the first few songs I’ve managed to record and cover ever. I could’ve wrote about “White Moon” and how it’s a damn good track that many people have actually yet to hear. I could’ve wrote about “Zebra” and how it was my first Beach House track and how damn sing-alongey the chorus is. I could’ve wrote about “Gila” and the fun times I’ve had driving around and screaming the chorus with the windows down with a very close friend. I could’ve wrote about how fucking sad “Take Care” is. I could’ve wrote about “I Do Not Care For The Winter Sun,” the song that helped me deal with the crippling paralysis of a certain Winter Break depression. I could’ve wrote listening to “Holy Dances” alot during said time period while sitting in the backseat during nighttime drives in the snow. I could’ve wrote about any of the new tracks on their new incredible album. Oh, the choices and the personal experiences.

I finally settled with “Master of None.” I thought this was a strange choice at first but I felt strangely comfortable with it. There’s not as much narrative behind this track as the ones I’ve mentioned above, but I still felt very consistently close to this track for a very long time. It’s on their lesser known debut LP, their most intimate of their repertoire. A lot of Beach House tracks have a feeling of loneliness to them, but this one in particular seems to resonate to me the most. The drumming in Beach House has always been basic but powerful, and in “Master of None,” the pulsing beat somehow carries more weight and leaves a more lasting impression for me. Everything about this track feels like it just does a all of the “Beach House” trademarks but…better.

I guess if you were looking for a life story around “Master of None,” you might be disappointed here. But maybe it’s better that way. I don’t need nostalgia glasses to enjoy this track. It’s really just a very well done Beach House song, plain and simple, and pretty stripped down from the bells and whistles. It lacks the grandeur and the ambition of anything from Bloom and I’m ok with that. The other favorite Beach House tracks remained tucked away in my memory…and dare I say, as cheesy as it sounds, my heart even. Maybe they should stay there. I’ve always feared that sharing the experience and trying to elaborate and explain it to another peer might not work and fall on deaf ears. It’s tough to convey the full emotions behind it. Everyone has their story with Beach House or [insert really fucking awesome band here]. Now go home, do yourself a favor, and dwell on those feelings.

-Michael

Active Child - Playing House (feat. How To Dress Well)

Active Child is one of those artists that still amazes me, even after months of listening. There is nothing that sounds like him—with a voice quite literally like that of an angel and a skill on the harp that completely transforms the instrument. Sometimes such uniqueness can seem gimmicky, like it’s only being done to seem “different.” But I think Pat Grossi, the voice and fingers that is Active Child, avoids this completely. He comes off as one of the most mature musicians, portraying love and relationships more beautifully and more interestingly than most other artists. 

I first listened to Curtis Lane in late 2011. I fell madly in love with the stunning opening track “I’m In Your Church At Night.” The rest of the tracks were just as amazing. After months of putting it off, when I finally listened to You Are All I See, I was less than impressed. The title opener and its successor “Hanging On” were deceiving, for these tracks were catchy and true to Active Child. Later tracks, like the mostly boring “Ancient Eye,” and the 80s dance rock finisher “Call Me Tonight,” made the album an overall disappointment. Were these bad tracks? Individually, no. But the flow of the album and the change of pace from Curtis Lane was what made it mostly a forgettable album.

No song disappointed me more, however, than “Playing House.” I was actually appalled at Grossi’s seemingly lame attempt at an R&B track. Whenever I relistened to the album, I could barely get through this song. I didn’t ‘get’ what Active Child was going for here.

I did, eventually, give the song another chance, and thank goodness I did. I’d like to think I never had a poor opinion of it, considering I find it the most catchy and sexy song, possibly ever.  It’s definitely a grower, but nonetheless an awesome track. 

-Alyssa

Chapterhouse - Pearl

Never quite as widely revered as My Bloody Valentine, Slowdive, or Ride, Chapterhouse always seemed, to me, characterized as a second-string shoegaze band: something to get to once you’ve gotten through the classics. This struck me as sorta weird once I’d listened to Whirlpool. Yeah, I’m not quite in love with the album as much as I am Loveless or Souvlaki, but it’s not just some knockoff of the bigger names in shoegaze. Where Slowdive was always entrenched in moody pop and My Bloody Valentine and Ride both seemed more preoccupied with sonic progression, Chapterhouse often just made shoegaze music that anchored itself on upbeat pop/rock tunes and wanted to party.

If I’m being honest with myself, I should really have Whirlpool opener “Breather” in this spot. It’s one of the most perfect and instantly likable shoegaze pop songs ever put to record, and its also a good summation of why I think Chapterhouse is awesome and very apparent in present-day shoegaze music from bands like the Pains of Being Pure at Heart. But “Pearl” was always the standout of the record for me, partially because of the way it builds up into this humongous, epic pop song with multiple sections and hooks. But it also has a really unique feel to it due to the extensive use of sampling: from the looping melody at the beginning of the track to the sampled drum break to the female vocal at the end of the track, “Pearl,” like MBV’s “Soon,” almost sounds as much like a dance track as a shoegaze anthem. 

-Ryan

Memoryhouse-Radium Girls

It’s not surprising that this song has been buried in obscurity, lost in the whole internet blogosphere, or hype machine or whatever you wanna call it. The dream pop duo of Memoryhouse established their identity mainly off of their acclaimed EP, The Years. From what I can gather, Radium Girls is a rare single of myspace level obscurity that floated around the internet sometime in 2009, shortly before The Years started making waves during the “chillwave summer” of 2010. Once such EP hit and blogs began raving, it seems Radium Girls vanished as nothing more than an early demo. A thorough google search even today shows that Radium Girls has barely registered as a blip on anyone’s musical radar, which is surprising considering how powerful the blogosphere works nowadays. 

For someone like me who has fallen in love and followed these guys for such a long time, this comes as only half a surprise. The real surprise comes from the song’s sound, but I’ll get to that later. If one pays attention enough to their periodically updated Tumblr, one knows the Memoryhouse has developed this niche out of the “experimental” phase before releasing their debut full length LP this year, The Slideshow Effect. It always seemed like they were never going to release anything besides segmented ambient tracks (posted quite often on their tumblr courtesy of Evan Abeele), random guitar swells and a small group of singles. They kept an image of mysticism, as Evan would chug out these ambient snippets and Denise would churn out milky, dreamy film pictures in periodic doses. They’re certainly no Best Coast, a band that spent it’s pre-LP days churning out more EPs than one can count on their hands (don’t quote me on that), but the concept is similar. In my eyes, they’ll always be that stereotypical bedroom blog-level band who spent the majority of it’s lifespan in experimentation, and that’s why the radically different sounding demo of Radium Girls didn’t shock me too much.

It’s hard to listen to Radium Girls and not be astonished from the sound shift. Yeah it’s dreamy, because you know, they’re a dream pop band. But this track is by far their most jamming of anything they’ve ever produced so far (you can argue The Kids Were Wrong comes close). It’s the only occasion that Memoryhouse has driven a song via a fuzzy, dare I say, rocking drum machine beat, which already surprising in itself when you consider how simplistic and tame Memoryhouse usually is percussion-wise. It’s also surprisingly shoegazey. After the band came out with a My Bloody Valentine cover, you can’t help but at least think of them as you listen to this track even if it technically sounds nothing like them. While the instrumentation is vastly different from anything Memoryhouse has come out with following this track, Denise’s vocal style hasn’t changed one bit, so many will feel right at home with Radium Girls.

Also, that outro. 

-Michael 

My Favorite - James Dean (Awaiting Ambulance)

There are tons of good songs in the world, but I think most people can tell the difference between a good song and a Great Song when they hear one. And I think part of that is because most of the Great Songs are pointed out for us: “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out,” “Just Like Honey,” “Like A Rolling Stone,” “All My Friends.” If you didn’t hear these songs when they were released, you probably heard them with the presupposed knowledge that you were listening to a Great Song. And I mean there’s nothing wrong with that. It certainly doesn’t make those songs any less great. But I think there’s something to be said about mystery in music. There’s nothing quite like the breathtaking feeling of listening to a random song by a mostly-forgotten band you’d never heard of before and realizing that you’re listening to a should-have-been classic. So, I’m sorry for prefacing this song with this but: I really think this is a Great Song. I’m not gonna argue that it’s better or worse than any of those other songs I mentioned, as that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is this: when a wise man sent this song to me however long ago, it took my breath away.

-Ryan

Air France - June Evenings

In an unexpected and sad turn of events, Air France broke up yesterday. The dating of this post is entirely coincidental, even if it looks like a minor obituary of sorts.

Air France were part of the Baleric pop movement, along with likes of jj, The Tough Alliance, and The Embassy, that came out of Sweden during the last decade. These bands are defined by their ‘beachy’ atmospheres and lethargic, dreamy sound. It would be unfair to simply describe Air France as ‘sunshine’ or ‘beachy’ though. Their songs, June Evenings included, were somewhat like a well-woven Christmas sweater. They used many different samples and sounds within their songs that gave their music a narrative quality. All throughout their EP, No Way Down, there is this fairy tale feel of escape and longing for adventure that is best represented in “June Evenings.”

“On flight Toulouse - Palermo / It’s such a long wait for / Sea, sex and sun”

When taken literally, the name Air France brings to mind flying. Airplanes are somewhat enclosed and trapping spaces despite the fact that we tend to associate them with mobility. You are stuck in your seat among a claustrophobic arrangement of many other seats and bodies while you wait for your pilot to finally announce that you’ve arrived at your destination.  It is when you get off the plane that the real vacation begins. In this case, the narrative seems to rightfully take us to a beach, a place that is at the heart of most, if not all, Air France songs.

-Chris