Five Things

(Jamie xx spinning some records)

The D Man recognizes that he experiences many blessings. Great music certainly takes up a portion of the cornucopia. Or maybe it reverberates through it all. Happy Thanksgiving.

• M83 does it on Fallon. Yes, there will be sax.
• Enjoy the origami-stylings of Sean Pecknold, singer Robin's brother, who directed the video for "The Shrine / An Argument."
• "We All Go Back To Where We Belong." A lovely little swan song.
• Cool song from a band that I'm not really down with.
• Jamie xx reworks "Bloom."

Song of the Week

It has been seventeen years since Mazzy Star's "Fade Into You" became an alterna-anthem for the (hip and) hopelessly romantic. Undoubtedly, no one will complain that Hope Sandoval and David Roback are releasing new music in what feels like ages. Sandoval's country timbre still smokes, and with their teetering-at-the-edges acousticism, the band's new single, "Common Burn," feels like falling away.

Kings of Convenience

A pilgrimage. For two soft voices, blended in perfection. Our journey to hear the Kings proved to be a surf and Scandinavian fantasy of intimate proportions.

When Rip discovered that Erlend Øye and Eirik Glambek Bøe, the Norwegian duo known as Kings of Convenience, would be performing a one-off show in Hollywood, he called The D Man late at night and said something cryptic like, "They are here." Somehow, I knew what he meant. We promised ourselves years ago that we would travel anywhere in the country to see the elusive pair perform live. The ultimate one-day destination? The sunny coast of California. Without a new album to promote (or even any swag to sell), the Kings easily sold out the Music Box on Hollywood Boulevard. And we were with our people.

First, the surf. In the morning we hit the waves (or, more accurately, the waves hit us) at Hermosa Beach. We experienced the restorative power that occurs when body, board, and buoyancy intersect with the immensity of the ocean. At least that is what I imagined. When I said the breakers were coming hard, Rip noted that I wiped out in five feet of water. All joking aside, thanks to the hospitality of Bones Barry (a derelict contributor to this blog but an otherwise gracious host), The D Man and Rip enjoyed a brilliant day on the beach.

Next, the show. The Kings of Convenience are, undoubtedly, one of our all-time favorite artists. Their music has been a consistent partner for the past decade, not unlike the duo's long-time friendship, creating a formidable companionship for drives, late nights, and early mornings. Their aesthetic vibe has long held our imagination on a deeply personal level. Supremely talented individuals, Erlend is a powerhouse DJ and fronts another fine band, The Whitest Boy Alive, while Eirek has an advanced degree in architectural psychology. But the two of them have established a caring, intelligent, and platonic artistic partnership. Eirek plays the foil of handsome sophistication to Erlend's awkward charm. Together, they are indomitable. Their last album, simultaneously serious and ironic, was titled Declaration of Dependence. Perhaps that is the meaning behind it all.

Luckily, The D Man and Rip share this same kind of chemistry. I saved the seats while he grabbed the Diet Cokes. To the show!

• My Ship Isn't Pretty. A brief aside about demographics. While the duo's music certainly evokes passing beauty, like an unfolding natural scene, there is also a cosmopolitan cool that is untethered from American folk idioms. The sound of the Kings is ultimately rooted in a Scandinavian, nonchalant sophistication. Not surprisingly, this exotic air has resulted in faithful followings throughout Europe, Latin American, and, significantly, Korea and Japan. Approximately half the crowd at the Music Box was Asian or Asian-American, which, fortunately, resulted in a receptive and respectful audience.
• Cayman Islands. Crystalline guitar escapism.
• Love Is No Big Truth.
• I Don't Know What I Can Save You From. A super hooky guitar hook. The Kings are teeming with a seemingly unending supply of superb guitar licks. On several songs throughout the night, the Kings "jammed" with extended and intricate precision.
• Peacetime Resistance.
• Toxic Girl.
• Second to Numb.
• Mrs. Cold. You lost me, deaf in my ear! Nothing you can say is going to change the way I feel!
• Thirteen. They played a great cover of Big Star's heartbreaker.
• Know-How. A great track from their second album, Riot On An Empty Street. The entire audience sang Feist's lines. Sheer simplicity!
• 24-25. This is just about as lovely as a pair of voices and guitars can be. The duo's deft lyrics of interpersonal relationships are always thoughtful, poignant, and honest.
• Boat Behind. The audience, of course, hit the chorus with little help. Wo, whoah-wo, whoah-wo! I can never belong to you!
• Misread. Perhaps the penultimate song from the "quiet is the new loud" movement. The duo's relatively quiet, minimal approach to songcraft results in an accentuated dynamism whenever there is the subtlest shift in volume, tempo, and rhythm. Each pick of a guitar string is an event met with anticipation. The practical affects of this phenomenon? When Erlend took off his cardigan in a fit of mid-song joy, the audience went wild.
• Rule My World.
• I'd Rather Dance With You. Nothing else like this. If this clever song doesn't make you feel good, your pulse has stopped. The opening band, Seth Pettersen & the Undertow, came out to back up this number so that Erlend could let loose and do his thing.
• Me in You.
• Little Kids.
• Homesick. The D Man has already waxed at length about the personal meaning of this song. The perfect closer.

Finally, the after party. The D Man and Rip went to the roof of the Music Box and, as fate would have it, rubbed shoulders with Erlend and Eirek. Erlend brought his lap-top and iPod and spun records as the beaming center of attention. ("If you don't clap after each song, there will be an awkward pause."). Eirek chilled with the small crowd and generously accepted our well wishes when we explained that we flew in just for the show. Having crossed paths with the man who had been staring at me from his record all of these years, well, it was worth the trip.

Song of the Week

May a song earn the distinction of Song of the Week on two separate ocassions? Within a matter of months? Clearly, the answer is yes. With a track like "Midnight City," easily one of the best singles released this year, there is plenty of room for seconds. Bring your super powers and enjoy the video below. Hurry Up, We're Dreaming drops tomorrow.

Song of the Week

Heading out for a drive this weekend? Need the right song to burst through the autumn leaves? Well, it does not get much better than "Baby Missiles" from The War on Drugs' excellent release, Slave Ambient. The record is staking its claim for best driving album of the year. If you like Dylan, Springsteen, Petty, hell, American rock'n' roll, then this is your jam.

Stark the Vinyl Shark: Time To Pay Attention to the Dum Dum Girls (Vol. II)

I saw the Dum Dum Girls open for She & Him last summer at the Twilight Concert Series. It was a hot August night, and it turned out to be a rarity in the show world, a night when the opener outshines the main act. At the time, I was still getting to know the band's excellent Sub Pop debut, I Will Be, and was unprepared for their physical appearance on stage: mini-skirts, ripped leggings, corsets, raven black hair, and high heels. For one fleeting moment, I thought this might all be a tactic to distract the audience from a sub-par musical performance.

I was wrong.

Dee Dee (voice), Jules (axe), Bambi (bass), and Sandy (skins) played an excellent set that night, and slowly but surely won over the crowd (including myself) with their special blend of lo-fi garage rock gems like “Bhang Bhang, I’m a Burnout" and “Jail La La." Midway through the set they even pulled out a cover of The Rolling Stone’s 1965 B-Side “Play with Fire," which they turned into a smoldering, bedroom pop ballad of fuzzy guitars and whispering vocals. I left the show wondering what might be next for them. If 2011 is any indication, we can look forward to great music from the Dum Dum Girls for many years to come.

In March, the Dum Dum Girls released the He Gets Me High EP (Sub Pop), showcasing three original tracks and one exceptional cover of “There is a Light That Never Goes Out” by The Smiths. Is it as good as the original? No. Would Morrissey and Johnny Marr approve? I think so. If nothing else, it will inspire you to dig out your Smiths vinyl or CD collection to revisit the unique musical stylings of your old friends from Manchester.

In September, the Dum Dum Girls released their second full-length from Sub Pop called Only in Dreams. It’s an improvement over their debut in almost every way, thanks to a sleek production and improved instrumentation. It’s a more mature sound, not to say they don’t have any fun (see “Just a Creep”), and shows that even though they play to their influences, they have managed to break away from the lo-fi sound that brought them so much success last year. Stand out tracks include “Coming Down,” which sounds like the perfect marriage of Mazzy Star and The Pretenders, “Bedroom Eyes,” which showcases Dee Dee’s excellent vocals, and “In My Head,” which is pure bedroom pop bliss, with a dash of The Beach Boy’s classic West Coast pop sensibilities.

Dee Dee’s smoky, seductive vocals are brought way up in the mix this time, with excellent results. Listen to “Caught in One” with your eyes closed and you’ll swear it's Neko Case, yet on “Just a Creep,” it’s Chrissie Hynde. I’ll take it either way, especially when backed by a rhythm section that knows what they are doing, and a guitar player in Jules who refuses to blend into the background.

I was able to snag a limited edition first pressing of Only in Dreams called the “Sub Pop Loser Edition” which is pressed on pink vinyl and came with a bonus 7’’ 45rpm single. The mix is great, the low end is warm, and Dee Dee’s vocals really sound great on pink wax. It feels great to turn this album up, to enjoy the dynamic range, and to appreciate the great Rock & Roll these women have to offer.

Song of the Week

Trevor Powers is 22 years-old and hails from Boise, Idaho. His debut album, The Year of Hibernation, is not what you would expect to hear from the spud state. With soaring bedroom melodies, the record's dreaminess envelops lyrical anxiety in sonic guaze, attempting to cover up some of the emotional bewilderment. Check out the arresting video for "Montana." Sometimes, letting go can take a long time.

Song of the Week

Beirut's third album, The Rip Tide, feels like an old friend. Earthy, well-worn, and honest, the record sheds some of the sonic clutter from Nathan Condon's previous efforts. Check out the funny video for "Santa Fe," where a hapless chap receives some divine intervention.

R.E.M.

Few, if any, bands have had a ten-album run like R.E.M. From 1983's Murmur to 1996's New Adventures in Hi-Fi, Michael Stipe, Peter Buck, Mike Mills, and Bill Berry created something very special. The inventors of indie-rock? College-rock? Alternative music? One thing is certain: R.E.M. is one of the most important, authentic, and inspiring bands of the past thirty years. What else can you really say? Thanks, guys.

Tonight, The D Man plans on listening to Reckoning and Automatic for the People, two of my favorite R.E.M. records. Enjoy some great songs that I have gravitated to over the years, culled from right off the top of my head.

• Radio Free Europe (Murmur, 1983).
• Harborcoat (Reckoning, 1984).
• Finest Worksong (Document, 1987).
• Orange Crush (Green, 1988).
• Near Wild Heaven (Out of Time, 1991).
• The Sidewinder Sleeps Tonight (Automatic for the People, 1992).
• Nightswimming (Automatic for the People, 1992).
• Electrolite (New Adventures in Hi-Fi, 1996).
• Imitation of Life (Reveal, 2001).
• Walk it Back (Collapse Into Now, 2011).

The Flaming Lips

They're just humans, with wives and children! A fount of triumphant humanism, The Flaming Lips rolled into town, awash in celebration. Balloons, confetti, lasers, strobe lights, smoke cannons, pink bunnies. The exploding accoutrements of the band's universe looked like mystic spheres, cosmic dust, and starbursts. You had to be there, for once, is the only fair way to describe the experience. And The D Man, Rip, Rizzo, and Stark the Vinyl Shark were there for every glorious second.

Years ago, The D Man wrote a poem for Wayne Coyne, the indie-titan and lead singer of Oklahoma City's greatest rock band, essentially providing a response to some of the universal questions that he posed on 1999's masterwork The Soft Bulletin. Fittingly, it is titled "For Wayne."

An untested hypothesis?

It is far more than that (and you know it)--

the accelerating universe

only expands on those same

chemical principles

that have fired in your brain

from the beginning

Love?

Hate?

Love?

Love.

The small explosions of neurons,

the electrical waves that travel

along a bundle of fibers,

the impulses and chemicals,

and the flaming lips that are never consumed--

they are more than a theory.

The feelings and dreams that orbit your brain

are descendants of the cosmos,

the children of the big bang.

What else can The D Man say, other than pointing out the obvious question: how many artists can evoke such a personal reaction? A poetic dialogue from a gushing fan? Really? To the concert!

• Worm Mountain. Wayne crawled across the crowd in his cosmic bubble. He came to rest right above us. He stood up inside the sphere as we held him aloft. We were a collective Atlas, carrying the fate of the entire planet on our shoulders. I should add that many Lip fans have died without ever holding the bubble. We felt so honored.
• She Don't Use Jelly. Totally ridiculous song. Totally works everytime. One of the most entertaining songs that you could ever hope to hear live, it is a bizarre treasure from the Lips always-interesting catalog. The alterna-hit thrust the Lips into the national consciousness, or at least the consciousness of weirdos everywhere.
• The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song. My kids love this song. What's not to like? So easy to sing.
• Vein of Stars. A pensive strummer, contemplating space and time itself. Stephen Drozd's guitar wailed with existential sadness.
• See the Leaves. A scary track from Embryonic. There were lots of cymbals crashing and drum fills banging.
• Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Pt. 1. Wayne turned this favorite into an intimate sing-along. There was no doubt that she could save us all. She's a black-belt in karate!
• Death Rays of the Sun.
• Pompeii Am Gotterdammerung.
• What is the Light? / The Observer. A cool track from The Soft Bulletin. The spacey bass-line kept it groovy.
• Race for the Prize. One of the most euphoric moments of The D Man's concert-going history. Don't believe me? Even the Japanese (see the video) understand the splendor of the woozy, off-kilter guitars and keyboards, the penultimate race for the cure. Rip and The D Man jumped in jubilation as the swell hit one of my favorite lyrical hooks in all of pop music: They're just humans, with wives and children!
• Do You Realize???. A massive celebratory send-off. Wayne talked about how some individuals in the audience were likely burdened by sadness, and how he was happy that they could come to the show and escape for a little while. It was touching and sincere. It was a call to reach out, to lift, to realize: The sun doesn't go down. It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round.

Song of the Week

The future of music is here. Or at least the sound of the future. Chillwave, with its processed effects--vocals, synthesizers, loops--is a compelling reclamation project: sifting through the musical scrapheap of yesterday in order to build the sonic structures of tomorrow. Call it an Era Extrana. Neon Indian would. Enjoy "Polish Girl" from Austin, Texas' coolest cyborg. One thing we always learn in these videos: virtual love affairs are elusive. No wonder Max Headroom never had a girlfriend. (Check out a sweet live performance on "Fallon" last night).

Music and Memory

The D Man will always remember.

Just a few months earlier, I proposed to Mrs. D Man on the top of the Empire State Building. I gazed down Manhattan and admired the brilliant strength of those mighty towers. It was a beautiful and clear day in May, not unlike that day in September. I got down on one knee and asked her to marry me, surrounded by New Yorkers and tourists. She gave me the most excited hug of her life.

On September 11, 2001, my brothers were working downtown, on the 50th and 52nd floors, just a few blocks away. From his office, Rip saw the second plane hit and immediately made his way to his family in Brooklyn Heights. Separated in the chaos, Rizzo saw the towers come down from below. He made his way to the shoreline and walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, seeking out his brother, covered in the terrible ash from the unspeakable evil. For our family, like so many others, it was a day of anger, worry, and heartbreak.

Upon reflection, my emotions are still raw and can easily make their way to the surface. Ten years later, my thoughts go out to all of the brave men and women. To all of their families and loved ones. To this great country, so capable and full of goodness.

Enjoy Ryan Adams "New York, New York."

Five Things

(Philly's The War on Drugs)

• Need some rock? Check out the ringing tones on "Coming Through," a sweet new track from The War On Drugs. Or enjoy the angular, fuzzy riffing on concert-ready "Keep Me Waiting" from Cymbals Eat Guitars.
• Speaking of indie-rock guitar workouts, The D Man still pines for the accessible and arty guitar-doodles of Stephen Malkmus' 2001 solo debut. Thankfully, on Mirror Traffic, alongside his band The Jicks, Malkmus tones down the recently proggy fretwork and delivers something tighter, even breezier. Check out the video for "Tigers."
• Cass McCombs is releasing a second full-length in 2011. The new album is definitely not "The Same Thing."
• "All Alone." Not when you're freaking out with Toro y Moi.
• Check out track number one (below) from M83's forthcoming double-album, Hurry Up, We're Dreaming. Simply titled "Intro." Given that this massive-sounding song is the first thing listeners will hear on the new record, there is now little doubt that Anthony Gonzalez is moving beyond epic. Our friend Zola Jesus makes an awe-inducing appearance, too.

Intro (ft Zola Jesus) by M83

Song of the Week

Cool video for a killer track from Kaputt. Dan Bejar awaits. Hey Mystic Prince of the Purlieu at Night, I heard your record, it's all right.

Music and Memory

While eating lunch at a local brewery with a group of friends from work, Beth Orton's "Central Reservation" came on. I turned to Stark the Vinyl Shark and said, "I like this song," but he did not hear me because his onion rings were too distracting. Then, this morning during an early run, "Paris Train" hit at the right moment as the sun started to fracture in the mouth of the canyon. I said to myself, "I love this song." No one listened again.

The D Man picked up Beth Orton's Daybreaker in the fall of 2002, my last year of college. I remember listening to the album while going to a friend's football game, the air rich with leaves and schoolkids. "Concrete Sky" was the easy standout, with backing vocals from none other than Ryan Adams. (Johnny Marr was actually given a writing credit for "Concrete Sky," while Adams received one for "This One's Gonna Bruise."). There was a sense of hope in the hopelessness that I gravited to, and to this day, I really enjoy listening to that song.

Later that year, I told my critical theory professor that I listened to Orton. She brought up several female singers she enjoyed, so I felt compelled to give such an acceptable response. Orton's music surfaced again the next summer as Mrs. D Man and I set out across the country for law school. I chose the evocative album to accompany our drive through the first mountain pass as we left our hometown. Sadly, Orton has never approached the strength of her work on Daybreaker. But I suppose we'll always have Paris.

Song of the Week

The new track "Lucky Now" could be a reference to Ryan Adams' newfound peace alongside Mandy Moore, Mrs. D Man's favorite celebrity wife. Who knows? But one thing is certain: Adams has penned so many great, imminently listenable country rock songs, it is difficult to deny the talent stoked from his creative embers. He releases Ashes & Fire in October, his first proper album since 2007's Easy Tiger. Enjoy.

Song of the Week

The D Man recently mentioned Bon Iver's epoch "Holocene." Well, now follows the appropriately epic video. With the backdrop of Iceland as a formidable walking companion, the video follows a boy on a grand, solitary adventure. Walking stick in hand, the boy traverses plains, hills, fjords, glaciers, and lava fields. He skips rocks. He climbs. He listens. During his ultimate triumph, amid the song's icy wistfulness, not even the northern sun can prevent shivers up the spine.

Five Things

(Justin Vernon is Bon Iver)

The D Man's always enjoys the next several months. As for the music, most albums just sound better this time of year. Happy listening.

• Bon Iver's epoch (pun intended) "Holocene" is profoundly moving. Enjoy a fan's take on a video with stop-motion animation.
• The National held a fan contest for the song "Exile Vilify." This is the most depressing sock puppet on the planet.
• Hopefully you caught Radiohead perform King of Limbs live on In The Basement. (Check your listings on Palladia, I've seen some reruns floating around). Enjoy "Seperator." In September, the band kicks off the season premiere of Saturday Night Live too.
• Kanye and Jay-Z capture the tag-team belt on new album Watch the Throne. Check out the Spike Jonze video for "Otis." There are several excellent boasts ("I write my curses in cursive"), several references to driving a Benz, and several skinny couture white chicks. Everyone seems to be having a good time.
• Fountains of Wayne never do harm. And they recently released Sky Full of Holes. Check out "Someone's Going to Break Your Heart."

Song of the Week

Hang on to summer as long as you can. August (and everything after) comes plenty soon. Brooklyn dream-poppers Pains of Being Pure and Heart understand this bittersweet truth. On the video for "The Body," the band members, stuck in the throes of real life, ruminate on their younger selves and the glory of summer. Endless, endless summer.

Fleet Foxes

The residue lingers. The D Man still has swelling harmonies rising in his chest. Mrs. D Man and I enjoyed Fleet Foxes on a lovely summer night, the breeze trailing down through the mouth of the canyon and circling in the gentle ravine. Even the company was great, offsetting some of the scenesters there for anything but the music. The Harringtons brought soothing concert experience and delivered with the cheese and crackers. The Crocketts aced the root beer and supplied the chairs (after somehow managing to bring them up the hill on their bikes). Sitting under the stars, The D Man wondered whether the pioneers overlooking the valley from near this spot could have envisioned such a carefree evening. Thanks to them, too, and thanks to the Seattle-based band for bringing the tunes.

• The Cascades.
• Grown Ocean. One of the best tracks from Helplessness Blues. Too bad the canyon wind had yet to die down, as it warped some of the sound coming from the speakers.
• Drops in the River. A fantastic track from the band's debut Sun Giant EP.
• Battery Kinzie.
• Bedouin Dress.
• Sim Sala Bim.
• Mykonos. For The D Man, this is when the concert officially started. The wind had settled, allowing Pecknold's warm vocal power to emanate throughout the amphitheater. The song's deep history sounded huge and vital. Thrilling even. Brother you don't need to turn me away. I was waiting down at the ancient gate. Maybe the best moment of the night.
• Your Protector.
• Tiger Mountain Peasant Song.
• White Winter Hymnal. The D Man called this one of the best songs of the new century. Hearing it live consummated its peculiar genius, its inherent feeling that it has been around for centuries, sung in the round by travelers on some Chaucerian trek. Its harmonic past is almost palpable.
• Ragged Wood. The band ripped right into "Ragged Wood," a glorious three-suite strummer that will make your bones shiver even in late summer. The band plays harder than you would imagine on some of these songs.
• Lorelai.
• Montezuma.
• He Doesn't Know Why.
• The Shrine / An Argument.
• Blue Ridge Mountains. I love you, I love you, oh brother of mine. Arguably the definitive song in the band's catalog, Pecknold's forest-glen mysticism is a conjurer's art, especially when you consider he penned this song at about 20 years of age.
• Blue Spotted Tail.
• Encore
• Oliver James. Pecknold front and center, alone with a guitar. His soaring voice calling out Oliver James. Question: Why in the night sky are the lights hung? Answer: On this night, just for this.
• Helplessness Blues. The most brilliant mid-song shift of the year; the song's second half is a fleeting burst of imaginative clarity and harmony. With two classic American albums under his belt before the age of 25, Pecknold (and company) have created something timely and timeless.

Beyond the Arc

Brent Barry played 14 years in the NBA. He threw out dimes and dunked on lesser men. Now, he dispenses his basketball wisdom on television. But do you know what he would rather be doing? Well, okay, surfing. But after that? Listening to some great tunes. That's right, Brent is a massive music fan. He has impeccable taste and attends live shows all over the country. He makes excellent recommendations and loves to talk about artists. So, of course, Brent begged to have a recurring feature on this blog.

But The D Man had some lingering questions. Primarily, would he be up to the task? Sure, Brent can still throw down and apparently has mad pinball skills. Sure, Brent hooked The D Man up with backstage Pearl Jam action (as written about here). Sure, Brent catches waves with the likes of Vedder and Slater. But could Brent handle the pressure from The D Man's loyal cadre of readers? Could Brent dish the dirt like he could dish the rock? Or would we just hear about people at Phish concerts?

Well, my (obviously made-up) doubts were vanquished when Brent decided to write his first post about My Morning Jacket. The shredding gods of American rock'n'roll. Live in Seattle. The same place where Brent used to rain threes from the Puget Sound. How appropriate, then, that his feature will be called Beyond the Arc. Make it rain, Bones.

* * * * *

The opening gong might as well have signified that the doors were opening to the path of enlightenment. My Morning Jacket at the Paramount Theatre in Seattle was a transformational evening for me and the roughly 800 attendees. I was familiar with several albums but was not yet ready for the power of the live ball of energy that the band was able to produce, as each song built upon the other, offering up incredible solos and unearthly energy that no album alone can hold. Most of the Circuital tracks made their way to the set list, but the stand out for me was "One Big Holiday." The intro gets me every time and it was crisp and precise, which also describes the entire night's drumming by Patrick Hallahan. (Ed. note: in this more recent version, you can actually see James' face).

Thank you Jim James for haunting my dreams for several weeks following the show. See you at ACL. Amazing how much music I like today has been borrowed by these guys (Band of Horses) and the etherial monstrosities they create. Glad they continue to stay in the lab . . . .

Song of the Week

Hurry Up, We're Dreaming. That's the name of M83's sure-to-be-awesome double album (twenty two tracks!) to be released in October. The D Man absolutely geeked out today while listening to the new single, "Midnight City." The track is pure sensory overload, and it literally got me through a long afternoon of legal tedium. Anthony Gonzelez's complete mastery of cinematic and cerebral electro-pop textures is on full display, as the ménage à trois of drum machines, laser synths, and saxophones feel like they were destined to be together. (Sorry for the bad French pun, but Gonzalez is now the coolest dude to ever hail from France). As the opening track of what is supposed to be a "very, very, very epic" album, the song naturally extends the pop magic of Saturdays = Youth and envelops it in the wide-screen electronica of Before the Dawn Heals Us. Stoked that you get to listen to this right now.

Song of the Week

A couple of years ago, The D Man and Stewboy helped Chad Murphy (legally) transition out of his stake in the local label, Exumbrella Records, where the likes of TaughtMe have found a home. Chad was heading to graduate school then, and he has since attended the University of Chicago and Penn State, presumably in the realm of creative writing. As anyone that knows him will tell you, Chad is a micro-culture renaissance man of sorts, as he has fronted bands (check out Electoral College), supported local music, painted with oils, and generated all-around good vibes.

So it is with real pleasure that The D Man shares Chad's most recent musical project. Under the moniker Markarians (so cosmic and deep!), he has released an excellent five-song EP titled Ten Means Heaven. Chad wrote, recorded, mixed, and mastered everything himself. His dreamy DIY sound is riddled with laid-back galactic energy, a sweet amalgamation of soft-psychedelia, acoustic strums, and bedroom thoughtfulness. The D Man recognizes the faintest sonic trace of Kurt Vile's ambling guitar passions, but Chad's lyrical dexterity surpasses even those comparisons.

Check out the quirky video for "Strangers II." The D Man can only guess at the genesis of the footage, but I would venture that Chad made the best use of his environment during a Murphy family getaway. The bathrobes, hot tubs, and trailways are populated by Chad and his seriously ripped brothers. (Some of his siblings play collegiate and professional football). Even Chad's father (and two-time National League MVP!) makes a cameo at the end of the song. Good vibes, indeed.

In an email to a friend, Chad described Ten Means Heaven as follows:

This is an album interested in exploring the miraculousness of life, the origin of our species, and the nutritional content of breakfast cereals. The intent was to balance weighty, deadly serious themes with the absurd, everyday questions and concerns that consume our lives. Hopefully this combination of seriousness and absurdity can offer some sort of new perspective on the totally amazing and hilarious premise underlying each of Life's Big Questions, as well as on the significance of the seemingly trivial aspects of our day-to-day lives.

In the end, though, it's just songs.

You can download Ten Means Heaven for free. The D Man highly recommends doing so--the final minute of the awesome "Rip Through Sunsets" is worth your hard-earned cash, and Chad is nice (or crazy) enough to give it away.

Toad the Wet Sprocket

One of the The D Man's most memorable dates (with his future wife) was seeing Toad the Wet Sprocket in concert. We hit the H.O.R.D.E. Festival (how's that for some 90s nostalgia?) in Park City and procured spots next to the stage for the Santa Barbara band's opening set. We saw the Squirrel Nut Zippers, Primus, and Neil Young & Crazyhorse. Mid-day, Neil even treated festival-goers to an impromptu solo acoustic set in between all of the booths selling hemp and world peace. We listened to "Heart of Gold" right next to him sitting on his stool. But the best part of the day: hearing Glen Phillips and company live. That, and my super hot date.

Toad the Wet Sprocket is as uncool, unedgy, and underappreciated as a band can get, even during the height of their 90s run. They are embarrasingly earnest with letter-perfect arrangements that hover somewhere between pop and softer shades of rock. Despite (or maybe because of) those qualifiers, they are a terrific band. Their straightforward sense of songcraft belies the intricate interplay of their chorus hooks and noteworthy timing and delivery. This is to say nothing of Phillips' pleasing voice (which we decided last night doesn't sound like anyone else, and we meant that as the highest of compliments). Toad the Wet Sprocket might not impress your uber-cool friends. But your Mom will like them. Because they are pretty damn good.

Rizzo and The D Man enjoyed a great set from the approachable band. (Don't worry, still married to my festival mate, but Mrs. D Man just happened to be out of town). The band played in downtown SLC as part of a summer festival concert series. During the set, Phillips announced--much to my delight--that they would be recording their first new album in almost fifteen years. (The group's absence was less of a breakup and more of a hiatus to raise families and explore other opportunities). The band as always sounded clean and crisp--it was something of a professional clinic in precision musicmaking.

• Something's Always Wrong. Phillips has a knack for singing depressing lyrics that still make you feel hopeful, even buoyant. The same goes for the band's excellent down-tempo numbers, which they mostly dispensed with for the summer crowd.
• What I Fear the Most.
• Fly From Heaven. Paul is making me nervous. Paul is making me scared.
• Crowing. Someone recently asked me what I thought was the most underrated album of the 1990s. Dulcinea was the first record that came to mind, although I'm sure there are plenty of others. This pretty song is an illustration of the band's overarching willingness to impart its melodic gifts, its belief in a shared goodness. The D Man is certain that writing a song like this is not nearly as easy as it sounds.
• Good Intentions.
• Inside.
• Windmills. I spend too much time raiding windmills. Still one of my favorite songs in their catalog. I love the wide-open, wind-blown metaphors. Is this an insight into the Quixotic quest for the pale-faced Dulcinea? Or is it something more personal? Hearing this reminded me again of how much this band meant to me.
• Is It For Me. The exuberant guitars and chorus climax sounded first-rate. Made me happy.
• New Song. The two new songs sounded terrific. The first was a slide-guitar backed number with a driving, woozy feel to it. The second was a little groovier, a kind of heavy jam that still retained the band's cohesive vibe.
• New Song.
• Come Back Down.
• Nightingale Song. The hardcore fans still go crazy when the tambourine comes out.
• Finally Fading. This track from Phillips' solo album was a nice change of pace.
• Crazy Life.
• All I Want. Confessing everythiiiiiiiing. As Phillips tuned his guitar before playing, I remembered how this song was actually a last-minute addition to Fear because the band was unsure about its unique tuning. Turned out to be one their biggest hits.
• Brother.
• Fall Down.
• Come Down.
• Ziggy.
• Walk On the Ocean. Could a song like this even get airplay on today's radio? Without any notes to introduce the song, the opening lyrics still shine like the ray of hope they were meant to be.

Five Things

(M83's Anthony Gonzalez)

The D Man has sort of felt bad ever since he posted ten of the coolest records he owns. So many albums just feel left out, I may have to do another entry. So it goes. Check out these five things--all cool enough.

• M83's 2009 album Saturdays = Youth was epic. Anthony Gonzalez recently said that his next electronic opus would be "very, very, very epic" and "mostly about dreams." If the 90-second trailer for the forthcoming album is any indication, it is going to be awesome.
• Check out the cool trailer for a documentary on Mark Kozelek over at his Caldo Verde Records site. A Cameron Crowe interview with Kozelek will be featured on the Sun Kil Moon website on August 16th, the date of the DVD's release. The D Man is, of course, stoked to check out the live takes and other goodies. Here is hoping for some behind-the-scenes footage in Rip's backyard.
• Junior Boys are as smooth as ever.
• Coz except for her, there just ain't nothing to latch onto. Check out the skater-love video for Kurt Vile's "Baby's Arms," vividly shot by a cell phone. Tag some walls and you'll get some action.
• This is strange and heavy stuff.

Song of the Week

Coldplay still insists on wearing on some kind of uniform. They have dropped the slightly militant pan-global commie garb from Viva La Vida and replaced it with a version that Wham! would have appreciated. Bright colors. Some pastels. The vibe is supposed to be all new wavey and danceable. And you know what? It is. "Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall" is an enjoyable blast of guitar pop with a heavy dose of tinny keyboards that makes you wonder what in the world happened to this band. Enjoy it anyway. Plus, Coldplay have the cash to make some solid performance videos, and the graphic art used in this clip is no exception.

10 of the Coolest Records of the Last 20 Years

Remember Uncanny X-Men #282 when Bishop came through a time portal from a dystopian future? Where mutants had been hunted and killed? Where he had been branded with an "M" over a portion of his face? Well, over the next several issues, Bishop battled the X-Men and brandished his awesome mutant ability to absorb all forms of radiant energy and conduct it back through his hands (resulting in sweet covers like this and this). That was cool.*

The D Man knows cool. Since Bishop came from the future, The D Man's understanding has only accelerated over the past twenty years. I may not always exude cool myself, or, candidly, try (too hard) to do so. But I have a keen appreciation for people, places, and things that are, inherently, cool. (Just like you, my loyal cadre of readers).

So what is cool when it comes to music? Much like the Supreme Court's definition for obscene material, The D Man just knows it when he sees it. Like my Grandpa's Ray Price 8-track tapes in his old green truck. (Cool). Like Erlend Oye hopping off the stage after his set to dance with the small crowd. (Very cool). Like playing Rock Band with Mark Kozelek. (Off-the-charts cool.)

So, naturally, The D Man's record collection is cool. According to this recent matrix, my collection is a purposeful mix (sorry Scots!) of lowbrow (Glasvegas), middlebrow (Frightened Rabbit), and highbrow (Belle & Sebastian). I run heavy on the indie rock, with great swaths of Americana, pop, and electronic music. I even have a carefully cultivated R&B and hip-hop section, just like a reverse black dude with his limited fare of George Michael or John Mayer.

But somewhere among the rabblement, The D Man owns some records that are flat out cool. The following albums are cool by virtue of a hip contextual melange of meaning, backstory, artwork, and vibe, to name just a few of the critical ingredients. So enjoy. And let The D Man know what other records belong in the club of cool. Bishop is waiting.

• Incesticide by Nirvana (1992). The D Man remembers his strange attraction to this weird, messy album of older demos and rarities. It sounded nothing like the full-scale production assault on Nevermind. The music was raw, forceful, and the cover art seemed scandalous, even scary. (In the liner notes, Cobain is credited with the artwork under the moniker Kurdt Kobain). The D Man played the album in his basement bedroom and thrilled at the adoloscent terror of "Sliver"--after all, who couldn't relate to being dropped off at Grandma's place for just a little too long? The likes of "Turnaround," "Molly's Lips," and "Been A Son" all displayed Cobain's driving, melodic pop gifts underneath all of the fury. Cobain was cool. Can there even be an argument over that?

• (The Rollercoaster Album) by Red House Painters (1993). On the band's second eponymous album (for super-cool label 4AD), Mark Kozelek entered into the rarified realm of cult adoration that continues through the present day. The sepia-toned image of a long-vanished roller coaster is the stark reminder of things past, things forgotten--and a visual entry point to this album's beautiful nostalgia and devastating sadness. Kozelek penned powerful "slow-core" songs in the middle of grunge's heyday, his brilliant lyrics pointed and pretty. "Grace Cathedral Park," "The Katy Song," and "Mistress" are potent reminders of furtive creativity linked by youth, love, and loss.

• Wowee Zowee by Pavement (1995). Everything about this record is cool. The cover is a blast of pop-art magic. The music is an eclectic, scatterbrained collection of spontaneous riffs and art-rock ditties. If you believe Stephen Malkmus, Pavement's super left turn on album number three was due to excessive marijuana consumption. Couched between two classic albums and the band's more refined pop approach on their last two efforts, Wowee Zowee is an indie-rock pinnacle of smart, messy, Enlish-major-drop-out guitar rock.

• Clouds Taste Metallic by The Flaming Lips (1995). The Flaming Lip's seventh album is fuzzed-out psyche-rock bliss. The last album to feature killer guitarist Ronald Jones, Clouds Taste Metallic is the Lips finest collection of guitar-based songs. Of course, The Lips have gone on to record several cool records since (The Soft Bulletin, Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots, Embryonic), but Clouds captures the whimsical, anything-goes sound that defined the band before its current festival prowess. Recently, when Wayne Coyne blazed a war of words with Arcade Fire in the press, even Win Butler conceded that Clouds Taste Metallic was a huge record (while dishing it right back to Wayne). When a record deserves an aside in a press battle between two indie-rock titans, you know it is cool. Check out "The Abandoned Hospital Ship," an unbelievably cool album opener.

• Maxwell's Urban Hang Suite by Maxwell (1996). A serious departure from the ghetto culture of 90's R&B, Maxwell's debut album was a refreshing, groovy, soulful nod to the sexual healing of vintage crooners like Marvin Gaye. Showcasing Maxwell's incredible pipes and serious commitment to relationships (albeit super-sexy relationships), the album's cover ditched the usual photo of the cool soul-singer for a retro invitation to knock the boots. Granted, the fact that this record came out during The D Man's make-out prime--and that he was probably the only guy spinning it in his high school (hello ladies!)--made it that much cooler.

• Agaetis Byrjun by Sigur Ros (2001). Iceland's Sigur Ros established their near-mythic status with their second album, which introduced savvy listeners to sounds they could not have imagined: lush, ambient post-rock orchestration helmed by lead singer Jonsi Birgisson's otherwordly vocals and cello-bowed guitarwork. Songs like "Staralfur" or "Svenfn-g-englar" were unlike anything we've heard before, and both were used to great aplomb in movies and videos. Overly earnest and little pretentious? Maybe. But artists have spent ages to sound so wholly original. Which could explain the alien fetus on the cover art. Or not.

• When I Said I Wanted to Be Your Dog (2004). Lekman's first proper album, When I Said I Wanted to Be Your Dog, established the Swede as the go-to troubadour of pop earnestness and romantic melancholy. Lekman's witty, sample-laden tracks are unforgettable, and his Morrissey-esque voice carries tunes to exquisite little epiphanies. Sure, his subsequent albums are probably better in terms of melody and polish, but there is a wistful majesty to the lo-fi production, a magic to the small (and funny) stories of heartbreak and misunderstanding. She said it was all make believe / But I thought you said maple leaves. A lyric sums up the humor, pathos, and sweetness that Lekman reveals in his clever little songs.

• And the Glass-Handed Kites by Mew (2006). The cover photograph is downright frightening, a nod to the grotesque that earned the dubious distinction of one of the worst album covers of the year. (Of course, the so-bad-it's-cool cover actually works in the album's favor here). The Danish band's songs are epic, musical pageantry, connected together as a single continuous suite, resulting in a dark fantasy kingdom that delivers a sweeping blend of shoegaze, metal, and prog-rock. These guys look great in front of a camera, and it is a shame that their music will never be performed in a U2-style arena setting, as they are one of the only indies on the planet that could actually pull off a stratospheric show. The overdramatic song titles--see "Circuitry of the Wolf," "The Seeting Rain Weeps for You," "Apocalypso"--are often sung in the highest of male registers. Indeed, "Zookeeper's Boy" is in the running for the best falsetto rock song of all time. Now that is cool.

• Gemini by Wild Nothing (2010). Wild Nothing's dreamy, shoegaze guitar-pop hints at the ineffable. Gemini is awash with starry-eyed synths, crystalline guitars, and fuzzy atmospherics, reimagining a vein of iridescent, wistful, 1980's pop music. Jack Tatum's debut is an understated affair that sulks, seeps, and sears into listeners romance-fueled memories, and the album is a clear indication that he is an unabashed fan of his brooding and melodic forbears, the touchstones that mopey teens of yesterday listened to and adored (Joy Division, The Cure, The Cocteau Twins). Cool company, indeed.

• Kaputt by Destroyer (2011). To date, the most beguiling record of the year. If you're cool, or you really want to be cool, you should check it out. You can always come current.

*For whatever reason, Uncanny X-Men #282 to #293, ultimately leading into the X-Cutioner's Song saga, was one of my all-time favorite run of comics. Cool.

Song of the Week

The D Man just snagged his Foo Fighters tickets for a show this October. And why not? Dave Grohl and company are one of the few bands that actually rock and sound good while doing it, let alone that regular dudes actually listen to them. But the real reason? The last time The D Man saw the band he was privy to an epic moshpit, where he doled out some epic hits (to some epic hits). Hoping for some more. Check out the goofy new video for "Walk" from Wasting Light.

Five Things

The D Man's birthday is this week. Just starting to hit his prime. Just starting to discover what makes him tick. As for the music . . .

• The D Man hit Iron & Wine over the weekend. The lo-fi folkie brought backup singers, saxophones, and some funk-jams to his set, comprised mostly of the gold-dappled pop from his latest effort, Kiss Each Other Clean. Even a few of the oldies were reworked and given an up-tempo sheen. The outfit sounded great, but left The D Man pining for at least a few hushed solos. A few birds stealing bread.
• My Morning Jacket was featured on VH1 Storytellers last week. Not your usual cable fare. Jim James, another bearded guitar god of sorts, brought some American thunder and mixed in some new tunes from Circuital.
• So Coldplay has a new single out. "Every Teardrop Is A Waterfall." Apparently, the band's charts, graphs, and analyses led them to believe the kids are digging keyboards, synthy vocals, and other retro stylings, right down to the rainbow color palette and choice of font. As long as Gwyneth doesn't do the backup vocals, I suppose we can manage.
• Death Cab released another video in support of Codes and Keys. Check out "Home Is A Fire."
• Ukelele Songs. Not exactly the most thrilling invite. But we at least owe Eddie Vedder a listen, right? No matter how disorienting it might get?

Song of the Week

You stuck a pin in the map I was in, and this is a note from the roadside. During a rainy Memorial Day weekend, some music best captures the companion feelings of looking back and going home. The D Man was inspired by Elbow's "Dear Friends," the last track on Build A Rocket Boys! It is a beautiful, traditional British pop song, expertly crafted, and a great closer to the opening magic of "Lippy Kids." The D Man is grateful for all those that have gone before him, and those stars that he currently navigates home by.

U2

By my count, U2 played seven songs from the 80's, seven songs from the 90's, and nine songs from the 00's. Relevant songs. There is not another band on the planet that can do such a thing. (Sorry R.E.M., I really like your new album, but your last decade was rough). Perhaps the most satisfying thing about the concert was being enveloped in this staying power. Experiencing the relevance. Four lads from Ireland still playing together thirty years later. They look great. And they sound great. Sure, Bono has a sleight Messiah-complex, but there is no one with his level of fame and access that has had his heart in the right place more often. The D Man enjoyed every minute of the spectacle.

• Even Better Than The Real Thing. The Edge's dance-fueled, buzzsaw guitars ripped forth. A great opener.
• I Will Follow. A nod to longtime fans from the band's first album, Boy.
• Get On Your Boots
• Magnificent
• Mysterious Ways
• Elevation. Some of the band's best work the last decade has clearly been inspired by playing in outsized stadiums all over the world. This song is no exception. A pan-global rock song that everyone just gets. Absolutely kicked.
• Until the End of the World. Love this song from the band's sonic masterpiece, Achtung Baby. Sounds as fresh, vital, and original as it did twenty years ago. Nothing quite like those shimmering, dance-addled tracks that helped U2 take over the world a second time.
• All I Want Is You
• Stay (Faraway, So Close!). The Edge pulled out the acoustic guitar and did just fine in slowing things down. Bono looks better than he has in years. He has lost weight and looks rejuvenated after his back surgery--even joked he has a new spine. His vocals were as good as they have ever been--he was born to front a band and bring God's message of rock to the masses.
• Beautiful Day. The D Man loves this song. Maybe his favorite soaring U2 lyric: Reach me, I know I'm not a hopeless case. Isn't that the message of messages? We are not cast off forever.
• Pride (In The Name of Love). The mere fact that The Edge can pierce the heavens--while strolling around so casually, so stoically--makes him one of the five best guitarists of all time. Not to mention one of the coolest dudes ever. His ringing, pedal-fied guitar tectonics altered the rock landscape forever, delivering post-punk riffs to the globe and leaving behind the (even in 1980) tired blues-based guitar tropes. His mighty axe is the sound of the cosmos moving.
• Miss Sarajevo. Bono even broke into some Italian on this one. He had a cheat sheet on the floor of the bridge to help him out. The D Man holds no grudges, as I can hardly speak proper English.
• Zooropa. The (incredible) visual round came down over the top of the band and formed a glittering hive. Showtime!
• City of Blinding Lights
• Vertigo
• Crazy Tonight
• Sunday Bloody Sunday. The most righteous march of all time? How long must we sing this song?
• Walk On. Bono helped free a Burmese lady from prison. The D Man is all about setting people free. And a big proponent of keeping only the bad ones in jail.
• One
• Where The Streets Have No Name. The screen flashed iconic images of the young band, circa 1987, walking through the California desert. The Joshua Tree. The song's matchless, epic exploration of Self and America is still inspiring.
• Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me
• With or Without You
• Moment of Surrender

Five Things

The D Man's iPod has been on shuffle. Early morning workouts are one way to rediscover the deep tracks that you love. Enjoy some great tunes that had me excited all over again. These five random songs are worth a listen.

• "Tell Me Ten Words" by Idlewild. The Scottish band's 2002 album, The Remote Part, is an excellent record of slightly-downcast anthems and post-punk yearnings. When the bass line comes in at thirty seconds, "Tell Me Ten Words" releases a nervous energy underneath all those pretty acoustic strums, and the song takes off looking for answers. "American English" was the band's U2/Coldplay moment, and "In Remote Part/Scottish Fiction" a national symbol of sorts. But "Tell Me Ten Words" is the band carving out something of their own.
• "Streamside" by The Album Leaf. Jimmy LaValle makes radiant ambient music with a heft that is more than mere background pleasantries. His 2004 release, In A Safe Place, was recorded with the help of Jón Þór Birgisson and other members of Sigur Rós in their Iceland studio. While much of the record's sound is glacial beauty, "Streamside" is warmed by a northern sun and feels like the emerging possibility of verdant growth.
• "Love Don't Owe You Anything" by Strays Don't Sleep. A short-lived, one-album collaboration between Nashville's Matthew Ryan and Neilsen Hubbard, Strays Don't Sleep was a minimalist tour-de-force of pain, loss, and reconciliation. "Love Don't Owe You Anything" thrives by creating dark-hued spaces between the guitar strums and the singular, cascading piano line. And Ryan's plaintive vocals reaches for an epiphany: I thought I understood / Now I understand.
• "Your Arms Around Me" by Jens Lekman. Enter swirling harps. The song's premise is both mundane and ridiculous. But the payoff is a glorious vocal hook over a perfect marriage of R&B beats and high-minded violins. Two lovers are preparing for a picnic. The man cuts his finger while slicing avacados. He passes out and is rushed to the emergency room. All that matters? You put your arms around me. Thank you, Jens.
• "AAA" by Paul Westerberg. This scruffy tune takes me back to summers past. From a fine double-album of basement rock by the former Replacements frontman, the song is a desperate kiss-off, stranded in some parking lot. I aint got anything to say to anyone, anymore.