Electricity By Candlelight is the kind of record that music nerds dream of. Imagine your favorite musician playing an acoustic set of his favorite songs, things by the artists who influenced him, to a very intimate, engaged crowd. Imagine that he is playing in a venue where a storm has knocked out the electricity, and he’s playing in a nearly pitch black room, illuminated by only three table candles. And you have had the foresight to bring your trusty tape recorder, which is great, because if you hadn’t documented it, no one would believe it even happened.
Seasick Steve is an analog man in a digital world. He makes guitars out of hubcaps and garden implements, and makes rustic, bluesy music that feels pulled from the earth itself. The irony here is that I only have his music digitally, save for a 45 that I probably should play on a hamster powered Victrola.
Hubcap Music is Seasick Steve’s second album for Third Man Records, and he’s a perfect fit for Jack White’s label. He’s doing something different and interesting, and it’s fascinating. Besides, Hubcap Music begins and ends with the sound of a tractor, and how could that be anything but interesting?
For a while, Joe Tex billed himself as “The Clown Prince Of Soul.” He was a gifted mimic and on one occasion, annoyed James Brown so badly that Brown tracked Tex to a club and shot it up while Joe Tex hid outside. That part isn’t so funny. The collection of songs on BBR’s reissue of 1977’s Bumps & Bruises, however, is often hilarious.
Joe Tex converted to Islam at the height of his career, while still riding high from 1972’s chart success of “I Gotcha.” He quit recording for five years and came back during disco fever. Bumps & Bruises is disco filtered through Tex’s unique sense of humor and funk.
It isn’t often that a band like After The Ice comes my way, so when it happens, it is the best kind of surprise. Their new EP, Thick Snow Magic, starts with a tight, classic metal sound but subtly transforms into something more akin to Radiohead, and then back again to metal. What’s most remarkable is that the shift doesn’t feel abrupt but completely natural.
With a sound like theirs, it’s even more impressive that After The Ice is just a trio, comprised of singer/guitarist Paul Lisak, drummer Tomek-Tomek, and bassist Hamzah Bashir. Lisak has an amazing metal wail and a terrific vibrato but he doesn’t overuse either. Oh, and his guitar licks are hot.
I’ll just put this out there now: I think I’m in love with The Muse. The Wood Brothers’ new album is pure auditory bliss and I might never stop listening to it. Recorded “the old fashioned way,” with the band circled around microphones and all in the same room, The Muse has warmth and analog coziness. There’s a loose-limbed, ramshackleness to it that is delightful.
By Less Lee Moore
Not sure how Blouse’s debut passed me by, but I’m certainly glad to know of them now. Their second album, Imperium, is a shoegazer’s daydream: echoey, deadpan vocals and layers upon layers of reverbed guitars and bass. From a lyrical perspective, Imperium is fixated on looking and seeing, themes that recur frequently in the band’s clever lyrics.
To bite a phrase from The Simpsons, is there a more misunderstood and underrated new wave band than the Waitresses? Those familiar with them in these post-millennial times probably only know their trio of radio hits—”I Know What Boys Like,” “Christmas Wrapping,” and the theme song from the sitcom Square Pegs. While these songs don’t misrepresent their work, their songs were weirder, complex, and more interesting than those three tracks would suggest. For many years, the only way curious listeners could hear the band’s deep tracks was to seek out The Best of the Waitresses, a remastered-for-CD compilation from 1990. Omnivore Recordings has finally given the Waitresses their Just Desserts with a two-disc collection of their recordings for Polydor.
Blitzen Trapper‘s Eric Earley has a story to tell. Loads of them, in fact. Blitzen Trapper’s seventh studio album has a seriously Southern Gothic vibe, which is pretty damn amazing for a guy from Portland, Oregon. VII is full of tantalizing, vivid details and stories that evoke dusty roads and swamplands and rusted out cars. It’s one hell of a ride.
Sunset Graves is the creative brainchild of Andy Fosberry. Their debut album is called Variant.
That’s all I know. I kind of wish I didn’t even know that much. I want it to remain this beautiful, ethereal thing, a gift we won’t be able to understand until much later.
Here’s a fun experiment to try! Sit ten people around a campfire on a moonless night and start telling scary stories. Everyone takes a turn. What you’ll find quickly enough is that not everything scares everybody. One person may be frightened by ghost stories. Another may be terrified of demonic possession tales. One never knows.
That’s the joy—and the potential for failure—found within any horror anthology film. They’re all scattershot. Even the most ambitious of them (I’m thinking The ABCs of Death) have sections that miss the mark completely (although “D is for Dogfight” was a harrowing piece of storytelling).
2012’s V/H/S was the most consistently enjoyable of the new wave of anthologies, gathering together a conclave of great directors, such as Ti West and Adam Wingard, and letting them do what they do best: scare the shit of people. There are some genuinely unsettling moments in the film (that final sequence, directed by Radio Silence, still haunts my thoughts).
This year’s sequel, V/H/S/2, is better in every regard. The framing device is tighter, the stories are better and the scares are more frequent and more intense.