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Archive for July, 2004

Vancouver Nights
All The Right Moves
Vancouver Nights (2000)

Sara Lapsley was once in a riot grrl band. At some point, it apparently stopped being cool to be in a riot grrl band, and so its participants left for greener pastures. Corin Tucker continued to wail convincingly with Sleater-Kinney; Kathleen Hanna took up Casios and became Julie Ruin. Lapsley found the piano and started making pop music.

It would’ve been interesting to hear Lapsley’s previous band, Kreviss, because on the basis of Vancover Nights’ sole album and her vocal duties with local supergroup the Gay, you’d never believe her previous life in a tremedously noisy punk band. There are no screeching guitars here, just some saccharine, upbeat piano pop, backed by the likes of Dan Bejar and Carl Newman of the New Pornographers. The pleasures of Vancouver Nights are but simple ones, but pleasures all the same.

Operation Makeout
Life On Your Windowsill
Hang Loose (2002)

Operation Makeout is pop-punk done right: no frills, indie production values, and a whole lot of fun and energy. The Vancouver threesome’s big claim to fame, such as it is: the cover of their 2001 EP, First Base, features an extreme closeup of two people making out, tongue and all. In the liner notes, they send out special thank-yous to their “kissy-faced models”—all 22 of them, if the count is right. You might’ve also seen the band featured on a segment of The New Music about finding a place to crash after a gig. 

For a punk band, Operation Makeout are almost too cute for their own good. Their sound has been compared to Sleater-Kinney, but they play looser and faster than their Olympia counterparts, and are prone to an interesting sort of wanderlust when it comes to melodies—no simple sugar-coated hooks here. Plus there’s Jesse Gander adding male vocals to the mix on a bunch of tracks. But most of all, Operation Makeout just seem to have more fun on record. I would too if I got to belt out songs like this all the time.

Orb
Little Fluffy Clouds
Live 93 (1993)

One of the big problems with the internet is that you never quite know what it is you’ve downloaded, especially when it comes to music from file-sharing apps. This was one of the first MP3s I’d ever downloaded, from the original file-sharing application: FTP servers. It did take a while to realize, though, that this wasn’t the real version of “Little Fluffy Clouds” everyone knew. Once the original commercials for the new VW Beetle came on, it was pretty obvious. Incidentally, those commercials also taught me there were more remixes of Fluke’s “Absurd” than I could possibly imagine. 

It wasn’t until this year that someone finally told me what this was—a ten-minute cut from the Live 93 disc. This explains the rambling, organic feel of this particular mix, and just about everything from the preacher at the beginning to Rickie Lee Jones’ return at the end of the song is note-perfect. This is one of the definitive mixes of a massive electronic hit.

Links, links, links!

Briefly, other things you should listen to:

Teaching The Indie Kids To Dance Again features Ash guitarist Charlotte Hatherley, who I’m convinced is being prepped for a breakout debut performance on the British charts with Grey Will Fade. As is generally the case with good British records, there will likely not be a North American release anytime soon, if at all, so you’ll have to cope with the two tracks here and the first single, “Kim Wilde,” on Hatherley’s official site. Suffice it to say, though, I’ll put down the hefty import dollars to own this.

And on The Tofu Hut (which flagrantly abandons the convention of the single post by piling an entire day’s worth into a single permalinked entry), a couple of live tracks from songstress Nellie McKay. You may have noticed her new album, Get Away From Me, sitting on the shelves; if you’d picked it up, you probably would’ve noticed that a) the “critics love this!” sticker on the front described her as “Eminem meets Doris Day”, and b) she’s a proud member of PETA. Don’t let either of those things dissuade you from giving these two live tracks a try, though (for the record: animal rights yay; asking Timothy McVeigh to be your spokesperson and advocating beer over milk as the healthy choice, not so much).

Prodigy
Girls
Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned (2004, unreleased)

I’ve finally found a proper version of this (as in not snipped out of a radio broadcast) so, despite the fact that anyone who wanted to hear it has quite possibly heard it already, here’s one from the upcoming Prodigy album, which reportedly has “Liam Howlett back on the beats.” You’d think that’d be a good thing. 

Of the leaked tracks I’ve heard thus far, though, it seems like “Girls” is as good as it’s going to get. After the disaster that was “Baby’s Got A Temper,” Howlett dumped everything recorded up to then and started from scratch. It’s a painful process, having to start from scratch, and I’d imagine it’s very tiring. That’d at least explain the lack of energy on the album. 

“Girls” works well enough; it’s definitely not Fat Of The Land material, although the dissolution into bass drum hits at the end is reminiscent of parts of “Diesel Power.” With the dirty synth hits, a decent drumline and vocals that were thankfully not provided by Keith Flint, this would’ve been an outstanding way to return to the fold if other tracks like “Memphis Bells” and “Phoenix” weren’t so limp. I guess they can’t all be anthems, but is one or two too much to ask? When bands like Basement Jaxx can repeatedly beat you at your own game, like the son who plays baseball better than his dad, you’ll either find a new way to stay relevant or fade away as is your role. Guess what the Prodigy chose?

Neko Case
Porchlight
Furnace Room Lullaby (2000)

It might be a stretch to call Neko Case the best country singer out there today—not while some of the old legends are still out there, and not while she’s banned from appearing at the Grand Ol’ Opry (for taking off her top during a hot performance; possibly apocryphal, but it wouldn’t surprise anyone if it wasn’t). It wouldn’t be much of one, though; it’s more a lack of exposure than anything else that keeps her a secret to most American country lovers (topless stint notwithstanding). On the other hand, having the #1 song on a John Peel best-of-year list has to count for something, right?

I’ve never had the chance to see Case do any of her own material in concert, although I have seen her sing (with Carolyn Mark and Kelly Hogan, no less), so I had no idea who sang the high parts on “Porchlight” until I saw an archived concert webcast of one of her Toronto shows. Turns out it’s Neko Case herself, adding impeccable vocal range to her list of talents.

Neko Case
In California
Canadian Amp (2001)

Case has always considered herself a Canadian, despite the lack of official paperwork. She went to school in Vancouver and played the drums for Maow, a local punk band. She’s played numerous shows with Blue Rodeo’s recurring Starlight Picnic, which used to be held on Toronto’s historic Fort York site. To this day, her albums are released on Bloodshot in the U.S., and Vancouver’s own Mint Records in Canada. She’s even joked repeatedly about the lengths she’d have to go to to become a Canadian citizen for real. So it makes sense that Canadian Amp would come out; it’s Case’s love letter to her adopted country. 

The EP, distributed only on tour and through her record label websites (although I found a copy in a Toronto record store; shhh…), is a short and sweet affair consisting mostly of covers. “In California” was originally penned by Lisa Marr of the now-defunct Vancouver band Cub, who can probably be best described as cuddle-core (on a side note: I don’t know where I picked up that term, but I feel slightly dirty). It’s a wistful track, and the opening lines fit perfectly with the EP’s raison d’etre: “In California, I dream of snow / in all the places we used to go.”

Cub
New York City
Come Out, Come Out (1994)

As Lisa Marr remarked during a live performance on Detroit’s WHFR, this isn’t actually a They Might Be Giants song first and foremost. Marr’s old band, Cub, should take credit for the original; they even made a video for it, albeit one that likely got absolutely no airplay except, possibly, on whatever west coast showcase MuchMusic had on at the time.

This is quite possibly the best song Cub ever did, with equal parts twee-pop singalong and mid-90s guitar crunch. It’s really no wonder that They Might Be Giants thought it a good idea to cover this; after all, this is the same band that routinely gets people at concerts to sing along enthusiastically to “the sun is a mass of incandescent gas.”

Heavenly
Ben Sherman
Operation Heavenly (1996)

Amelia Fletcher and company have played music in one incarnation or another since 1985; Heavenly was the best-known. Most of Talulah Gosh signed onto Heavenly in 1989, not long after the original band ceased to exist. Songs like “Ben Sherman” are some of the main reasons why people remember the Sarah Records imprint today, and arguably the band was one of the top performers, if not co-inventers, of the twee-pop movement in Britain and the States. Aside from that claim to fame, you may also remember Cathy Rogers, the keyboardist for Heavenly and later incarnation Marine Research; she was one of the producers and original co-hosts of Scrapheap Challenge, which those of us with TLC remember as Junkyard Wars before it turned to crap. 

Operation Heavenly was the last album they put out, although that wasn’t the original plan; after its release, Matthew Fletcher, Amelia’s brother and the band’s drummer, committed suicide. Deciding they couldn’t return to making music without him, Heavenly disbanded in 1996. It wasn’t long before they changed their mind and recruited another drummer—who was initially supposed to provide electronic beats, so unwilling were the band at first to consider filling Matthew’s drummer seat—to form Marine Research. 

Compare anything on Sounds From The Gulf Stream to earlier Heavenly releases, though, and you’ll find a strange sterility to the proceedings. One reviewer thought it might’ve been better to think of Marine Research as an exercise in coping with the loss of an integral part of the band and a dear friend. Whatever the case, Marine Research only lasted one album; from its ashes rose Tender Trap, resembling Marine Research in band composition more than in style.

Fiona Apple
Better Version Of Me
Extraordinary Machine (unre)

This is a rough mix of a track from the possibly-shelved Extraordinary Machine album, which is practically finished but without a release date or promotion plans. The story goes that Sony can’t find a good radio single and generally don’t know how to promote the album. Insert standard “what-the-fuck?” diatribe here. 

The ID3 for the track even has some hints on the album’s production, complete with (possibly faked? but why?) truncated notes discussing the mix. Unlike the fairy-tale orchestra of “Extraordinary Machine,” this track is a little closer to what you’d normally expect from Apple, with the hustle and bustle of “Criminal” tied to the more elaborate arrangements reminiscent of When The Pawn… It also makes a more convincing case for the new album than its title track did. 

Obviously, no word on when this will come out, if ever.