Obscure (but should not have been) album of the week...

DANGER MOUSE and SPARKLEHORSE present: DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL [2009]

This week I've taken some liberty with the concept of an obscure album. None of the artists that feature on The Dark Night of the Soul are obscure (far from it), and I'm sure I'm not the only person out there who is blogging about one of 2009's most anticipated releases. But here we have an album which is unlikely to see the light of day in physical form. If that isn't obscure, then I don't know what is....

Because this release is literally hot off the press, I will attempt to give an overview of what's on offer, rather than a detailed critical analysis. Basically, Sparklehorse and Danger Mouse have teamed up with David Lynch, a collaboration which can only be described as an artistic wet dream. Not only have they produced some music together, they will be releasing a multimedia package including a book filled with original photographs by Lynch, of which only 5000 will be printed. As for the album, it is symbolically packaged as a blank CD-R. Confused yet? Read on. Every song features a different guest vocalist and, my word, there are some big names on the list; Wayne Coyne (Flaming Lips), Julian Casablancas (The Strokes) and James Mercer (The Shins) to name but a few. It would be a safe inference to draw that appetites in the indie community are whetted for this release. And the results?

Though responses have been divided so far (one of the more amusing comments I came across went something like: "This is awful...you'd have thought it was a Beatles record", and that's bad how?), it is without doubt a unique listen. Collaborative efforts like these can sometimes lack a cohesive whole, but with the cream of alternative cool at the helm, who's complaining? The production chops are impeccable and there are some real standouts, particularly the woozy, catchy-as-hell 'Everytime I'm With You', sung by Grandaddy mainman Jason Lytle. Sonically speaking, Dark Night of the Soul isn't too far removed from the last Sparklehorse album 'Dreamt For Light Years in the Belly of A Mountain' (in which Danger Mouse also had some involvement).

I would be a fool to overlook the real selling point for everyone, however, and that is the fact that David Lynch actually sings on two of the songs. The vocals may carry a whiff of auto-tune, the lyrics might be nigh on incomprehensible but....it's David Lynch, what else do I need to say? The first, 'Star Eyes (I Can't Catch It)', is the sound of Mercury Rev and Brian Wilson doing illicit substances together while riding on horses in slow motion. OK, a bit of aural exaggeration there but I'm doing my best. But the real pearl is the title track, the finale of the album, and would fit right at home in the visions of Betty Elms' relentless nightmare in 'Mulholland Drive' or the black lodge in 'Twin Peaks.' It's eerie, dark, other-worldly and bears the distinctively batshit-crazy stamp of Lynch's universe.

Because of an ongoing conflict with EMI, The Dark Night of the Soul may never see the light of day (hence the inclusion of the blank CD-R, the buyer choosing what to do with said item as they wish.) Either this is a genuine artists vs big corporation dispute or the best publicity stunt ever. Regardless of the actual situation, we are deprived of owning some great music. For those that aren’t modem-challenged, you can currently stream the album at this address:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=104129585

Happy listening.

-AMCS

P.S - Special thanks to my friend Daniel for passing on the news of this release!

Obscure (but should not have been) album of the week...

EAST RIVER PIPE - The Gasoline Age (1999)

I first came across East River Pipe in NME's review of The Gasoline Age a decade ago. It would be another few years before I actually bought the album, as no local record store I perused stocked any of his records and crazed Internet shopping had not quite taken off in a way that it has now. Aside from the typical hyberbole that accompanies many a favourable NME release, the first line from the article always stuck in my mind, "There is bliss to be found in emptiness." This is a neat summation of the East River Pipe approach, in which the bleak, artificial landscapes and desperate characters of FM Cornog's songs are channelled through his strained yet eerie voice, juxtaposed with lush keyboards and chiming guitars. It's a contradiction that sits oddly to some ears, but I find it strangely compelling.

Given that at least half of the subject matter concerns cars and the vast nothingness of highway-riddled america, The Gasoline Age (save for a few inconsequential moments), could almost be labelled a lo-fi concept album of sorts. Every character within the songs, despite their yearning for freedom on the open road, acknowledges the futility of the journey ahead. It's the dark side of the American dream, the sinister flipside to On the Road for the new millenium. Tracks like 'Cybercar' and 'Astrofarm' paint a lightly dystopian vision of the future without going all Gary Numan (think of a more human Kraftwerk instead), while the opening number 'Shiny, Shiny Pimpmobile' (beyond it's great title), is a twinkling delight that perfectly evokes fast cars and glittering cityscapes yet is undercut with a slice of patriotic malice:

We're all alone, just get inside

We're going for a little ride

The cherry bombs, confederate flags

Don't forget that's all you are.

Other songs take the lonely highway chancer to familiar American pastimes, in the epic (and just a mite overlong) Atlantic City (Gonna Make A Million Tonight) where the gambler, after recounting his history of family neglect and poor choices, is convinced he is a "big time player" and will finally hit the jackpot and turn his life around.

Being modestly home-recorded, with nary a session musician or record producer in sight, the majority of East River Pipe's output tends to feature a rather cheap-sounding drum machine and/or drum samples. One can choose to be frustrated by this minor sonic setback or adopt the view that were East River Pipe's songs given the full band treatment and production, they would lose something in the translation. These are deceptively simple songs; intimate, warts-and-all but also full of pathos and quirky humour that is deeply ingrained in FM Cornog's lo-fi aesthetic.

Sadly, FM Cornog rarely performs live, which one could argue has limited his exposure somewhat. Nonetheless, this hasn't stopped other artists (Lambchop, for instance) recognising his singular talent and covering his works on stage and on record. So, in the absence of any future East River Pipe tour dates, if you do find a copy of The Gasoline Age in a record store, you won't regret the purchase. The album that followed this after a four year gap, Garbageheads On Endless Stun, is equally as impressive, filled with more of FM Cornog's slanted tales, so be sure to invest in that should you find a copy as well.

-AMCS

Obscure (but should not have been) album of the week.

THE OCEAN BLUE - Cerulean

Writing accessible pop with a subversive edge is tricky. A handful of artists (Steely Dan and Randy Newman, for example) have managed to pull it off successfully throughout their careers, often with such deftness that you barely notice the satirical leer underneath the words.

Could there be another argument that writing innocent and wistful pop, free of cynicism yet also free of saccharine, is equally as challenging? Many bands fall under the unfortunate banner of "twee" when attempting this or write 60s bubblegum songs in the vein of The Archies. Surely there must be some exceptions....

Perhaps it requires a bit of youthful vigour. The Ocean Blue (hailing from Pensylanvia U.S), enjoyed a mild amount of homeland success when they had barely graduated from high school, after releasing their debut self-titled album in 1989. This was due in no small part to their heavily British-inflected jangly sound, as UK groups of this ilk were a considerable influence on the American college rock scene at the time. Little wonder then, that many listeners were surprised to discover they weren't British. But despite the naive charm and strong hooks of the debut, they had matured a bit two years on by the time of their second album, the majestic Cerulean. It's a far less derivative, less dated effort.

The shimmering 'Ballerina Out of Control' is an exercise in chiming three-minute pop mastery, an American indie classic every bit the equal of 'There She Goes' by The La's or 'Bizarre Love Triangle' by New Order. The instrumentation is so sparse it's almost jarring upon first listen but repeated listens reveal its potency. It's a song so effortless and weightless it floats off the speakers. Or off your headphones. Did I mention this is a perfect headphones album?

Other highlights include 'When Life Was Easy', a yearning for simpler times but without a hint of angst or self-pity. It's just what it is, a piece of nostalgia performed and written with sincerity. And yet, I struggle to think of many other bands who have written songs like this without belabouring the point.

The final song is called 'I've Sung One Too Many Songs For A Crowd That Didn't Want To Hear' and belongs in the ranks of Greatest Extended Song Titles list. It just so happens to be a great tune as well.

Strong melodies and crystalline guitars are The Ocean Blue's butter and bread, so the lyrics seem like a bit of an after-thought. Many might find the American wholesomeness of singer/guitarist David Schelzel's words a bit cloying. I find only 'Questions of Travel' and 'Marigold' grate slightly with lines that stray a little too close to Hallmark territory ("Pockets full of posies" and "Swiss alps in the snow" should give you some idea of what to expect).

It's somewhat ironic that an American band release such a sunny, optimistic pop album in the year of grunge and an increase in flannelette shirt sales. They would not have sounded more out of place. In a way, they still do sound out of place. Cerulean is a collection of 12 blissful guitar pop songs and nothing more. Why can't it always be that simple?

-AMCS

On the topic of hard rubbish...

One thing Melbourne has over Brisbane (and many other cities for that matter), which I've come to appreciate is hard rubbish collection, those intermittent points of the year when everybody in suburban Melbourne does a bit of garage-cleaning. I have no doubt that many a student in suburban Melbourne are furnishing their houses as we speak with old picture frames and rickety chairs that others with fancier jobs have discarded.

Quite frankly, I don't blame the rubbish-scavengers. Who the hell wants to go to IKEA? I've found some perfectly good rickety chairs lying around myself before. I was shocked to find a recent city council brochure speaking of the evils of people scavenging around outside your house during hard rubbish time and what you can do to prevent them taking your stuff. Here's a preventative measure; don't put hard rubbish outside in the first place maybe? Talk about dangling the carrot...

But I digress. Being the DIY musician that I am, my primary aim is to find anything audio-related.

I was quite surprised last year when I found a classic 80s synth in good condition lying around during an otherwise aimless stroll. All it needed was an adapter and it was underway, as good as new. The potential of this keyboard is vast but it unfortunately has the memory of a broken calculator. Perhaps the original owners just misplaced it. If you're out there, sorry, but it found a better home.

I've been without a proper record amplifier for months. The fuse for my original one broke and so I've had to resort to listening to CDs; the lowest form of audio entertainment. So my heart skipped a beat today when I found a Marantz amplifier with a tape deck sitting outside someone's front gate. I've seen things like this before but have always come away disappointed after finding they've cut the cord or made some alteration that screams: "Scavenger beware: this does not work and it comes with a curse."

But this one had no markings to speak of. "Perhaps the owner just got a hi-fi upgrade and couldn't sell their old amplifier to anyone", I reasoned, trying to keep my spirits high. I quickly nabbed the dusty thing and took it home. Finding that it took one of those strange two-prong cords, I found one and plugged it in, not expecting much, when the light came on. "That's a good sign", I thought. I then plugged some old speakers into the back, found an old cassette to test it and...success! This neglected piece of equipment actually works! "Melbourne, you are the city of dreams, if only for your hard rubbish!"

I left the house briefly, forgetting to switch off the amplifier. When I returned, I found the light off. "That's funny. I thought I left it on." I turned the switch off and on again. Nothing. I tried switching the power supply. Nothing. I tried changing the cords. Nothing.

Much fumbling around.

Some cursing ensued.

More fumbling around.

More cursing ensued, this time more frequent and involving spitting.

"I give up. I'll just go into a pawn shop and pay the $70 instead." With that, I proceeded to place the amplifier where it now belonged. Outside the front of my house.

-AMCS