September sounds
Sep 2, 2009 |
No One’s First and You’re Next
Modest Mouse
Unless they’ve died, few artists can get away with releasing a songs-that-didn’t-quite-make-it record without looking a little desperate. The members of Modest Mouse, the Seattle-based indie rock band playing at Pipeline Cafe next Wednesday, are still alive, and on their new record of that description, it shows.
Released last month, No One’s First and You’re Next plays like a quasi-retrospective, featuring eight B-sides and outtakes from Modest Mouse’s last two albums. This is a band that has managed to carve out a distinctly recognizable flavor utilizing rock music’s most ordinary ingredients, the main course being singer/songwriter/guitarist Isaac Brock, who has the schizophrenic showmanship to wail and screech–almost menacingly–one second, then croon with a honey-tinged vulnerability the next. Either way, Brock manages to sound delightfully off-kilter, a trait that appeals to both the asymmetrical haircut set and a grittier, blue-collar sensibility.
Brock flexes his pliability here on a record that’s solidly upbeat, if a bit scattershot. Although nothing ever reaches the same anthemic gusto of “Float On,” a few tracks make commendable attempts. “Guilty Cocker Spaniels” is quintessential summer, a swingy, guitar-driven romp that builds to a flourishing crescendo. An unexpected brass section emerges on “Perpetual Motion Machine,” sporting guttural, jazz-infused trumpets and roaring tubas. Though from the straightforward rock opener “Satellite” to the rockabilly influenced “King Rat,” there is little consistency holding this naturally piecemeal effort together.
No, this isn’t Modest Mouse’s strongest record, but when a collection of second-string tracks can compete with other artists’ first-stringers, that’s a statement in itself.
OOF!
Blue Scholars
Blue Scholars, a hip-hop duo based in Seattle, keep it real–like real kine local brah! From the title of their latest EP, OOF!–a colloquialism heard most commonly on public school playgrounds–to shots of emcee Geologic spitting rhymes in front of Foodland in the music video for “HI-808,” it’s clear that Blue Scholars understanding of local culture runs deeper than a Waikiki postcard. Understandably, emcee George Quibuyen, a.k.a. Geologic, grew up in Hawaii in the ’80s, during his father’s stint in the Navy.
“HI-808,” the lead single off of OOF!, is Geologic’s homage to the Islands. It opens with a cameo from that same New Boyz brat on helium who’s been calling everyone a “jerk” on the radio this summer, this time echoing a different refrain: “eight oh eight, eight oh eight…” The numbers not only refer to Hawaii’s area code, but also to the electronic drum machine that Sabzi, the man in charge of production, utilizes to drop a slinky, ready-made beat primed for the club. It closely resembles a refurbished Clipse record–all tribal drum cadences and screeching synths–but who said that was a bad thing?
Instead of succumbing to lyrics about sexy wahine shaking their ‘okole at the beach, Geologic waxes political, tackling everything from Hawaii’s ice epidemic to issues of sovereignty. It’s a heavy load to carry, particularly for one Filipino from Seattle, but Geologic never wavers. He even finds time for some local humor: “Yeah I got heat/cuz every time I speak/I keep burning up like a haole on a beach.”
The duo is slated to perform at Loft on Sept 25th. If it’s anything like its last visit to the Islands, when, according to Geologic, Blue Scholars “made Nextdoor feel sorta like Blaisdell,” you don’t want to miss out. Until then, check out the video for “HI-808,” a slick production with nods to a few of Hawaii’s favorite things: Zippy’s, shave ice and yes, good ol’ Foodland.
Venus and the Sky Turns to Clay: The Instrumental World of Makana
Makana
Matt Swalinkavich, who goes by Makana, is a gift from heaven.
No really, that’s what Makana means–“a gift”–and after listening to him strum, pick and emote his way through the 15 tracks on Venus and the Sky Turns to Clay: The Instrumental World of Makana, such sentimental adoration is hard to resist.
Both literally and figuratively, Makana–arguably among the greatest slack-key guitar players of his generation–is a man of poetry. His poems are featured on his Myspace page and on the inside of Venus and the Sky’s record sleeve. On the albums cover, the title of the record is written right to left, a clever–if not confusing–reflection of Venus’s directional rotation. Lyrically, everything else is communicated via guitar–the central motif being seemingly disparate worlds converging harmoniously. There is the world of flamenco and classic-Hawaiian guitar that collide on “Dance of the Red Poppies,” a zesty composition punctuated by flecks of Makana’s virtuosic strumming. On “A Touch of Deviance,” the records most experimental moment, Makana goes on a brief trip to outer space as heavy reverb creates a lush, electronic dreamscape. It’s eerie, uncharted territory–enough to keep you on your toes, wondering when the beat will drop. Guess we’ll have to wait for the remix.
As the title of the other tracks indicate–“Deep in an Ancient Hawaiian Forest,” “As the World Tunes,” “Koi (Current of life)”–everything else could generally be characterized as “easy listening.” Atmospheric and dreamy, Venus and the Sky is nighttime music awash in shades of neon blue and iridescent black, so much so that at times, it urges you to indulge in one of life’s most decadent of pleasures: sleep. Not that that’s a bad thing. After all, the best poems almost always turn out to be the most meditative. You just have to pay attention.
