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On Jack’s Turntable: When We Were Happy / Rob Giles

Feb 212012

When We Were Happy, Rob Giles
One of the most beautiful and emotionally crippling things about language is how some short phrases can have such huge connotations hidden in their phrasing. My favorite example of this idea comes from Sam Beam’s lyrics to his song “The Trapeze Swinger,” when he says “someone told me you’re still pretty” in the second verse. I’m always amazed at how clearly this short phrase so concisely presents such a complicated situation- the verb tense alone carries more emotional weight than most entire songs. Somehow those six words tell an entire story, without any need for detail or explanation. It might just be the best-written sentence I’ve even encountered. The title/refrain of this song by Rob Giles of The Rescues might come close though. With two less words, the phrase “When We Were Happy” rivals the connotative pregnancy of that Iron and Wine quote, immediately explaining the entire song before you even hear it. That phrase, which is also the title of Rob’s new solo album, quite literally says it all. As one could easily extrapolate from the title, the track centers on a painful romantic breakup, delving into the immensely complicated emotions that fill the void when happiness fades away in a relationship. Giles has fantastically expressive vocal style, and the simple guitar and bass parts have a painful throbbing to them that reflects the sentiment of the lyrics. The recurring string quartet theme adds just enough beauty and tragic elegance to the situation, sonically capturing the feelings that Rob must have been struggling with when he wrote this song. Lyrics like these can only come from fresh painful experience, and the clarity in the title of this song alone is the mark of a great writer.

I want you, but I want you to be happy, the way we were happy, when were happy

On John’s Turntable: Février / Vincent Vallières

Posted by John Boudreau No Responses »

Feb 182012

Février, Vincent Vallières

Even though we’re well into February, we still don’t have much snow in Central New York, so maybe this post is a little ironic. Actually, in case you can’t understand the lyrics, take my word for it: it’s ironic. The name of the song translates as “February,” and the lyrics are sort of a free-wheeling association of all things wintery, from “February, little red nose/Februrary, a bit drunk” to “Febuary, lose your gloves/February, on skis.”

In three minutes, Vallières provides a great ode to “the little month that never ends” backed by strong handclaps and some random whooping. The song sounds like something he recorded in the midst of a booze-soaked night with a bunch of friends in a cabin—natural, and above all, fun. It’s an incredibly simple mix of musical elements that just works. There’s definitely a little sense of humor in thrown in too: from the cough in the background at 0:35 that accompanies the lyric “Frileux et gripé” (roughly translated as “chilly and sick”) to the low whistle that sounds when Vallières mentions “le vent du nord” (“the north wind”) at 0:39.

Perhaps the reason why I enjoy this song so much is because I can actually understand the lyrics—it’s tough sometimes to appreciate songs in foreign languages, especially if you’re big into lyrics, although I hope you’ll get a kick out of this nonetheless.

DISCLAIMER: My love for Quebecois music is entirely the fault of one of my high school French teachers, so if you’re reading, Ms. Noll, merci beaucoup!

On Dan’s Final 2011 Turntable: Rescue Ranger / Rubblebucket

Posted by Dan Kipp No Responses »

Feb 182012

Rescue Ranger, Rubblebucket

For my final haphazard catalogue of 2011, I offer Rubblebucket. I don’t know much about them, except that they used to go by Rubblebucket Orchestra, and that they’ve always been funky. Music ranging from alternative to pop, some indie and eclecticism, the band is hard to pin down. I’ve gotten lost listening to Rubblebucket. Intensely upbeat to ghostly visceral, all within the same song. Trumpets and sweety synths call to mind Triangular Daisies, right nextdoor there’sa turbulent Landing laying siege to your feeet! but it all ends up alright, as they end the album with a downhome Hommage.

Rubblebucket’s 2011 album Omega La La is, admittedly, not as swanky as the band’s past creations (i.e. the three in the prior paragraph). In context with the rest of the year’s music scene, however, it’s frigin intriguing. Omega La La is comprised of three remakes — Triangular Daisies, L’Homme, and Came Out of a Lady — from prior albums, and offers some of its own joys. Light renderings like Raining and Silly Fathers are sure to please, and when the party’s over you can curl up to Lifted/Weak Arms or a Pile of Rage. The headlining song, Rescue Ranger, is an adventure of its very own.

When the song pops, Kalmia Traver’s vocals both lead and trail the drum rolling steady to a bubbling bass line, heavy saxophone saturating your dance space. Excellently paced and sure to get a lift from your face, I think it’s because they play their instruments, rather than have a cpu crank em out, that makes Rubblebucket so visceral. Although, f’sho, they’re prettily “produced by Eric Broucek (LCD Soundsystem, !!!, Holy Ghost) & mastered by Joe Lambert (Animal Collective, Dirty Projectors, Herbie Hancock)” – thanks wiki. And thanks for your time. Espero te disfrute! More to come! I take requests!

On Dan’s 2011 Turntable: Youth Lagoon & schultzing

Posted by Dan Kipp No Responses »

Feb 152012

Posters, Youth Lagoon

Claremont, schultzing

Sometimes, all you want from your music is a background track to whatever you’re doing… whichformeismostlyhomework. It is this aesthetic that connects the two bands featured here: Youth Lagoon, who I know nearly nothing about, and schultzing, a German jazz quintet.

Youth Lagoon. Just one dude, 22, named Trevor Powers. Cool name. The 2011 album is The Year of Hibernation. So mysterious. Guaranteed forty-five minutes of either quality background tuneage or, depending on how into it you want to get, some very legitimate music. Alt-pop powered by layers of lacy synth, from piano to steel drum. His vocals hide in the low-fi and electric, but they bravely fade into Fleet Fox-ish cathedral paintings. I haven’t listened for the lyrics once. The songs stay dreamy, an “eerie yet nostalgic” vibe reminiscent of The XX about them until he drops the bass, when things can get pleasantly epic. Youth Lagoon’s true charm, I believe, is in his patient construction of each song, building it appreciably – if at times too safely – then delivering when the moment arises. Such as at 2:20 in Posters, the first in The Year of Hibernation.

A less safe embarkment would be for the shores of schultzing. One of my now-favorite bands and a refreshing break from the indie scene. Their seven-song 2011 album is federleicht (light as a feather) and it features Mateusz Smoczyński, a Polish jazz violinist, whose heavenly strings often synch with Hanna Jursch’s singing. Their lack of capitalization reflects the experimental nature of their jazz, from the twisted nine-minute jam they called Karawahn, to Ballade, a smoky song led along by two Peters — Schwebs’ stand-up bass and Ehwald’s tenor sax. Claremont, the song featured above, pretty perfectly epitomizes the light and featheriness federleicht suggests.

No schultzing song allows you to disengage from it the same way Youth Lagoon is susceptible to, but still I find myself able to fade from and study to it. (As well, of course, as get down to it.) Both have a certain levity, that I realize now may be from their shared lack of lyrical allure. What I mean is Youth Lagoon’s are unassuming, voice so shrouded in static distance; and because schultzing’s German is incomprehensible to me it slides from my brain like rain from a rock. For neither am I tied down in one part of my mind, following the words of the song; I’m free from understanding them in a literal way.

Let them do for you what you like, and happy studies!

On Jack’s Turntable: All Through The Night / Tyler Ramsey

Posted by Jack McManus No Responses »

Feb 132012

All Through The Night, Tyler Ramsey
In September I wrote about this song for Cover Me (you can check out the post here), and ever since then it has haunted me- never getting boring no matter how often I listen to it. There’s something astonishing about how Tyler’s guitar picking follows the core melody while simultaneously picking the bass line and adding pretty little flourishes, especially since this attached version was recorded live. His voice has a roughness to it that gives the performance a tear-jerking sense of emotional sincerity, making the romantic situation believable and real-sounding. The tempo and nocturnal imagery in the lyrics fit Tyler’s understated style perfectly, capturing the essence of the tune far better than Cyndi Lauper did on her more famous cover of this track. For all of its other merits, though, this song just has a gorgeous chorus. The melodic building and lyrical desperation captivate both the listener and performer, gripping our attention and provoking beautifully-strained wails from Ramsey. Also, even though the performance overshadows them for the most part, the lyrics of this track have a serene elegence to them that I really like.

We have no past, we won’t reach back, stay with me forward on through the night

On Dan’s 2011 Turntable: Flying Overseas / Theophilus London

Posted by Dan Kipp 1 Response »

Feb 092012

Flying Overseas (feat. Devonte Hynes & Solange Knowles), Theophilus London

2011 was a year that in large part legitimized the rise of indie music, in all its eclectic forms. With Bon Iver topping Pitchfork and many others’ charts, 2011 marked an age led by low-fi acoustic folk recordings, accompanied by 80s-esque electronic renderings of several sorts. And there was nothing wrong with a lot of it, and some was even good! That being said, I felt a distinct lack of soul in too many instances.

Anyone that knows me already knows my definition of soul as something connected to duende and, as such, compels one dance. I firmly believe that a firm bass can reverberate from the feet through to the vertebrae in a way only its own. It brings out in one a want to move in a way 2011 generally was want of. Except for Theophilus London.

Each of the five-tracks on his 2011 EP Lovers Holiday have a sound so rich and full you don’t even need surround sound for it to envelope you. The warmth found here speaks for itself — and all this from London in spite of some very obvious indie influences! London has colossus clout with a coterie of artists, from indie-pop English songwriter/composer/producer Devonte Hynes to indie-rock/folk singer Sara Quinn (of Tegan and Sara) — both featured on the album.

London conforms (to an extent) to his contemporaries’ 80s vibe on several tracks, but they vibrate with a liveliness that engages the present. From the extravagant anthem banger “Wine and Chocolates,” to the beautifully tragic “Why Even Try,” to the synth-happy “Strange Love,” Lovers Holiday shows that London knows how to make music and its consumers move.

In the song featured above, Flying Overseas, London combines all the keys: a perfectly produced rich sound, a melody of chimes with a rumbling humming, well-timed synth, and angelic vocals provided by Solange Knowles, R&B-singing kid sister to Beyonce. Listen to this one next time you take off, whether or not its overseas, and see if it doesn’t move you — feet or elsewhere.

On Zach’s Turntable: Last Nite / Adele

Posted by Zach Bernstein No Responses »

Feb 072012

Last Nite, Adele
A big thank you to Jack for bringing this cover to my attention. Simply put, if I were forced to name one song as my favorite song of all time, I would probably have to say the Strokes’ 2001 garage-punk gem “Last Nite,” off their marvelous debut Is This It (also probably my favorite album of all time). I was therefore thrilled to discover that the biggest and most talented breakout star of last year, Adele Laurie Blue Adkins, had covered the song nearly four years ago for a BBC radio session. Who would have thought that Adele had such great taste in early millennial indie rock? By now, we’ve come to expect big, heart-on-sleeve power ballads and torch songs from the British soul star. “Last Nite” is something different entirely – a bare-bones, no-frills rock and roll song. Adele, however, gives the vocals of bluesy, soulful quality not present in Julian Casablancas’ wonderfully nasal delivery. She sounds completely at home on this cover and her R&B wail fits perfectly into the spots where Casablancas’ throat-lacerating screams used to be. Plus, they keep the chugging guitar and pounding drums of the original. For me, nothing will ever top the original, but Adele’s cover is fun and fresh, with the original sneer behind the song still intact. [via Indieshuffle]

On Pete’s Turntable: 2020 / Sol

Posted by Peter Adelfio No Responses »

Feb 032012

2020, Sol
This album came out a few short weeks ago, and this post is a public appeal to all of you devoted readers to GO BUY THE CRAP OUT OF IT. Sol has singlehandedly blown a blast of fresh air into the recent rap releases, establishing a unique focus that could be described as a soul-rock-rap fusion. The first thing to note is the sound; this guy records only with a full band that refuses to let him take the spotlight. With soft tones from the keyboard, grooving bass, the ultimate level of smooth percussion, and some sudden interjections from the horn to fill you with that soulful pleasure, this song would be incredible even if Sol was not involved. Those of you who know me know I have to single out the drums for a second; the beat is the perfect medium between metronomic and visionary. For a rapper working with a live band, the drums are his only guideline for accuracy and no matter his skill and lyrical dexterity, all of his success is contingent on how sharp and even that beat is. That being said, Sol does have some pretty absurd lyrical dexterity. This song is beautiful, sending a THC-fused message about peaceful and personal revolution while simultaneously pumping you up and leaving you in the dust with the speed and rigor of his rapping. Eminem set the stage for white rapping, and since then it’s been a struggle for guys to come close to his shadow. Sol just sidestepped the whole thing and went in his own direction; he turns his anger and resentment into a calm yet invigorating call to arms, while instigating such a warm and powerful feeling that only some music can. If you like this, absolutely check out his whole album, Yours Truly, which won’t be the last we hear from him I am sure.

On Jack’s Turntable x3: I Can’t Make You Love Me / Bonnie Raitt / Adele / Bon Iver

Posted by Jack McManus No Responses »

Feb 012012

Flipping through my overflowing Google Reader feed the other day I came across this Ann Powers article chronicling the past and future of American Idol, a show I very much adored in my younger years for vocalists like Ruban Studdard and Jennifer Hudson. I inexplicably followed a link in the article to Carrie Underwood’s original audition video, in which she performed a startling acapella version of the timeless classic “I Can’ Make You Love Me,” and as impressed as I was by her performance, I realized that I hadn’t heard this fantastic song in far too long. I set out to remedy that with a quick Hype Machine search, and I didn’t just find Bonnie Raitt’s original, but also recent covers by the two most talked-about vocalists of 2011, Adele and Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon. After listening to each of these versions many times I’ve come to realize that each performer brings out something different from the song, but the composition still transcends the presentation regardless of the context.

I Can’t Make You Love Me, Bonnie Raitt
In many ways, Raitt’s original captures all of the intense emotion that makes this song the seminal work It has become. Her hybrid country-soft pop vocals capture the essential introspection and reflection in the lyrics, which, in their most basic form, outline the internal realization of a failed romance. While Mike Reid and Allen Shamblin’s lyrics directly address the romantic other, they’re the type of appeals that we only wish we could actually vocalize, but keep to ourselves instead. It isn’t an argument or even a conversation, but a solitary moment of conclusion and deep thought. Raitt’s vocals capture this perfectly, keeping her emotions just restrained enough to demonstrate the pain but keeping it believable as an internal monologue. Bruce Hornsby’s piano fills fit the situation perfectly as well, adding both emotional drama and impressive technical displays without calling too much attention to his playing. Each of these covers include piano parts, but none even attempt to live up to Hornsby’s level of precision and emotion.

I Can’t Make You Love Me, Adele
In many ways, Adele’s version of the song aims to mimic the original. Inevitably though, her version dials up the emotion and spotlights the vocal performance by simplifying the accompaniment, in this case a single piano mostly playing chords and small melodic bits. This simplification actually changes the song drastically, quieting it down and letting the lyrics and vocals carry more of the emotional weight. It may be redundant criticism to say so, but Adele’s vocal performance is almost unthinkably powerful and beautiful. Especially on a song built for a strong vocalist like this one, I could listen to her sing all day long. Her adaptation of the song also fits the live environment perfectly, putting as little as possible between the vocalist and the audience to deliver the sentiment of the lyrics in their purest form.

I Can’t Make You Love Me, Bon Iver
While Adele’s cover sticks to the general formula of the original (minus some simplifications), the Bon Iver version makes subtle changes to re-contextualize and re-interpret it a little bit more. While Raitt’s original seems to take place as an internal monologue and Adele’s pretty clearly drops the dramatic pretense and exists as a live concert recording performed in front of an audience, Bon Iver’s super-simplification of the piano part gives it the feeling of the subject sitting alone at the piano, singing his own feelings to himself. Its the most intimate of the three by far, relying on sincerity and feeling rather than vocal acrobatics to convey the emotion. Vernon’s high notes sound shrill and strained, just as the crushed lover’s should. The piano melody pops up at points, but in general the focus shifts completely away from technically-advanced presentation and more towards honest, simple portrayal of the feelings that surround the situation described. Its almost more like acting than singing, and Vernon might be the best actor in music today.

On John’s Turntable: Wild West End / Dire Straits

Posted by John Boudreau No Responses »

Jan 282012

Wild West End, Dire Straits

God knows it’s sometimes tough to get posts up here on Turntablr during the semester. But I absolutely have to gush over Dire Straits, and I don’t mind staying up just a little later to do it. “Wild West End” sits among an album of spectacularly lean and muscular songs, which only serves to make its early Sunday morning groove feel even fresher. From the opening strums of the resonator to Mark Knopfler’s orchestral opening lick, this song feels warm and utterly relaxed.

Perhaps it’s the major key, or Knopfler’s ability to find lyrical beauty in the mundane: “My conductress on the number nineteen, she was a honey…/Greasy greasy hair, easy smile/made me feel nineteen for a while.” You can hear him smile in the vocal delivery. Knopfler doesn’t show off his full guitar hero chops here, and every note he plays is perfectly placed and perfectly tasteful, which is something I admire even more than an ability to play fast. Dig the last few seconds of the track (from about 4:35)—how else could it possibly end?

As I said, this song sounds like a perfect Sunday morning—maybe it’s because Knopfler starts by singing about “Stepping out to Angelucci’s/for my coffee beans,” but I bet it has more to do with the instrumental performances: understated, they are simultaneously incredibly dry and expansive sounding. Most of all, they sound clean. If my adjectives are a little hard to identify with, it’s because this song appeals to me on a purely sonic level, and I might not hear “dry” the same way you do.

This is one of those songs where I almost hate to write about it, because I fear that analyzing it will rob it of its magic. Maybe you should have just started reading this review here, but I wanted to share it with you, because “just ain’t no way/you and me, we can beat/ Walkin’ in the Wild West End.” Enjoy.