Muddy Waters has always been my favorite rainy day reading spot in town. The comfort it’s hobbit hole interior and yummy drinks provide sum up a lot of what I like so much about downtown Burlington. You can walk in there off the street any day and feel immediately like you belong. I had been aware of their live music experiment for some time, but never none of the acts had peaked my interest until I saw the bill for the Burlington return of the keyboard and drums duo Slingshot Dakota. I had caught them this past summer at The Monkey Bar and was blown away by their infectious positivity and songs about the importance of take care of those around you. This time, they were set to be playing with the locals Spirit Animal (members of In Memory of Pluto) and Plattsburgh’s Yo! Adrian.

As the chilly drizzle persisted outside, I settled myself into a booth with a pot of tea and my companions to kick back and enjoy the music. The Muddy’s folks had cleared out the sunken area near the window to serve as the stage. There was room to stand in front of the band in the lower level, while those in the back had the comfort of a raised level so they could still see. No only did this work out efficiently, but performing in front of a Main St. window proved to provide an unexpected extra element of entertainment.

Yo! Adrian brought the same fun as the last time they opened for Slingshot, and Spirit Animal gave us more of that Don Cabellero meets American Football that those Jandl brothers deliver so well.

As Carly, the keyboardist of Slingshot Dakota, waited for her partner on drums to set up his kit, she started playing theme songs for each group of people to pass by the window, hoping that they would stop and listen. Everyone walking down Main Street in Burlington seemed to be well amused by this game. As I remember, the most people  stopped while Carly played the windmill theme from Super Mario 64. But despite the recognizable ditties Carly warmed up with, it was Slingshot’s original songs that drew the biggest crowds to the window. They blasted through their set with such joy and energy, that they turned everyone’s rainy day frown upside down, even the fire marshall’s! Their debut album “Their Dreams are Dead But Ours is the Golden Ghost” was out last time they were in town, so there were a healthy number of sing-alongs this time around. The infamous cover of Fugazi’s “In the Waiting Room” was requested at the peak of the fervor to everyone’s delight. Throughout this spectacle, our fishbowl was tapped on, stared through blankly, waved at, and breathed upon.

It would be easy to brush Slingshot Dakota off because of the seemingly similar aesthetic of that other keys and drums pair Mates of State, but Slingshot hits a couple of my sweet spots that the Mates miss. One of these spots is musicians with a humble devotion to a message. Their songs are about sharing some serious friend love. Before playing one of their new tracks, entitled “Micheal Jordan Saved My Life,” the pair always take a moment to talk about the importance of being supportive of friends that have been subjected to sex crimes, and dedicate it to one of their pals. Plus, everything about these two is absolutely adorable and infectiously cute in a not even slightly nauseating way, and that’s rare to come by. Carly promised they’d be back in the next year, so don’t miss it.

Well, it’s coming around to that time of year again, kiddies, and if you’re anything like me (God help you), your listening habits tend to be influenced by the weather.  Darker days call for darker ambient, and what better holiday to bust that shit out than Halloween?!   Throw out those spooooooky Halloween sounds cassettes (or at least splice and sample them for beats or something), and click below for your new freakish soundtrack.  You can do what you want with it, but my plan is to rock it on my front porch while I pass out candy, which will most likely be a huge hit with all of the burgeoning experimental music fans up here in St. Albans.

1) “Suspicious Drone” – Demdike Stare

2) “No. 1″ – Nuda Veritas

3) “Zenit” – Rumforskning

4) “Lambing” – Philip Jeck

5) “Consigned to a Yesterday” – The Caretake

6) “Why Are You Fearful” – Desiderii Marginis

7) “Dead People’s Things” – Deathprod

8 ) “Listen, The Snow is Falling” – Graham Lambkin & Jason Lescalleet

11) “Drivis” – Elegi

12) “Ictus” – Letum

Tegan & Sara -- Sainthood

The Quin sisters are always up for some good referential digs, be it to the Material Girl in the broken-strummed “Paperback” or to themselves when crooning “Go steady with me/I know it turns you off when I get talkin’ like a teen” on “On Directing.” In either case, the irreverent, snide wit and easy self-deprecation prove to be an effective, if surprising, fit for Tegan and Sara’s brand of genial indie-pop, elevating Sainthood beyond mere snappy diversion. (Read the Full Review)

Devendra Banhart -- What Will Be

Banhart’s immanence has always been limited by the weirdness of his music and the size of his promotional arsenal. No more, though. Banhart jumped to a major label this year, and What Will We Be, his first recording on Warner/Reprise, marks the beginning of the end of his transition from Oh Me Oh My’s primitivism to mass culture’s sonic boom. The title What Will We Be suggests resignation, reluctance even, to this development. But its contents show a commitment to the cause, a final leap from the fringe to the fore.

The eccentric still lives to some extent. What Will We Be includes songs written from a child’s point of view about love and intimacy (“Chin Chin and Muck Muck”), silly lyrics set to seriously constructed tunes (“Willamdzi”), plastic pronunciation and wordplay (the insertion of additional syllables in the couplet “wild when/smiling” on “Can’t Help”), Spanish cooing (the moody “Brindo”), and, of course, warbling in that all-shook-up vibrato. (Read the Full Review)

Fuck Buttons -- Tarot Sport

Tarot Sport represents a subtler, more mature approach to songwriting and a sharpening of their craft. But moreso, it marks a comprehensive stylistic shift for the duo’s sound, from experimental noise with a buried pop sensibility to a sort of modernized electronic take on classic post-rock structures. And impressively, they’ve made these changes without sacrificing any of the genre-straddling adventurousness that made them intriguing in the first place. (Read the Full Review)

Jack Johnson -- En Concert

We probably pay a bit too much attention to Morrissey on this site, but that’s because we love him. As many of you may know, he recently collapsed on-stage after performing just one song, “This Charming Man”. He’s been ill with what’s apparently some sort of respiratory problem. Morrissey’s been working hard the past few years, touring aggressively in support of a string of wonderful albums. Perhaps it’s all caught up with the fifty-year-old.

In tribute to our favorite melancholy crooner, here’s five great Morrissey songs. Get well soon, Moz!

(None of these songs are terribly obscure, but we also wanted to avoid anything too obvious. The most well known Morrissey songs, though they don’t appear here, are certainly among his best.)

1. “You’re Gonna Need Someone on Your Side” - The opening track for one of the man’s finest records, Your Arsenal, the track and album are a little more rocking than Morrissey one would expect Morrissey to be. (That’s not to say it’s rocking enough to bring new fans into the fold.)

2. “Sunny” - After Morrissey switched to RCA, EMI released this track as a single, hoping another label’s marketing push would send some dollars their way. It subsequently appeared on the terribly uneven My Early Burglary Years compilation. The track is a lovely little bit of Morrissey whimsy.

3. “Irish Blood, English Heart” - In the late 90’s, it seemed Morrissey had all but completely run out of steam. In 2004, he heralded a true return-to-form with You Are The Quarry, arguably the man’s best solo material to date. After spending nearly a decade as the de facto has-been press punching-bag, Morrissey proved he could still be great. This is a fine example of the caliber of that material.

4. “Reader Meet Author” - Even the worst Morrissey albums have decent tracks. Take this number from Southpaw Grammar, a misfire from 1995, and the only proper Morrissey album not to feature a picture of the man on the cover. (Is it a coincidence that it was also one his most poorly received?) This track is a highlight.

5. “We Hate it When Our Friends Become Successful” -- Say what you will about Morrissey, the man loves reflective shirts. Another tune from Your Arsenal, this one finds Morrissey humorously reflecting on the way success seems to breed a certain kind of alienation.

For those of you that have never had the misfortune of meeting Tanner McCuin, allow me to give you a primer. In addition to being the Pure Pop Czar of All That is Cyber, he’s a petty and conceited man who’ll happily pontificate for hours on matters he knows nothing about. If you question any of his divergent and often conflicting points, or even ask him to clarify one, he’ll either retreat screeching from the conversation or volley a series of increasingly personal attacks. Whatever personality the man has is obscured by a swollen nest or poorly employed affectations intended to establish the neo-bohemian intellectual he desperately wants to be.

Let’s take a look at the opening paragraph of Tanner’s most recent blog entry, a “review” of a Dungen and Fleet Foxes show.

I showed up to Club Metropolis twenty minutes before Dungen hit the stage, a heartfelt desire to not be disappointed and a bottle of cheap strawberry daiquiri mix burning a hole in my stomach. I had been here most recently to see The National, their Boxer LP and Virginia EP being two of my most listened to albums from the previous year or so and while their performance was spirited, I felt they had a hard time translating their brooding heavily produced between-you-and-me delivery to the broad strokes required for such a large venue and seemingly disinterested audience. That experience had left me seriously questioning my interest in live music, at least, in seeing live many of the bands I enjoy in headphones.

As the experience of seeing The National left Tanner disinterested in seeing comparable bands perform live, the experience of reading this paragraph leaves all but the masochistically curious disinterested in reading the rest of the article. This, ladies and gentlemen, is Tanner, warts and all (all=more warts). The paragraph is convoluted and narcissistic. If Tanner’s writing style was a means of ascending stairs, it would be going up backwards on your hands and knees while talking a lot of nonsense. His ideas go nowhere, and take forever to do so.

I recently sat down with Tanner in an attempt to understand the mechanics of his being. The following is a sort of highlight reel of our conversation.

Herb van der Poll: Hello Tanner.

Tanner McCuin: What’s cracking?

HV: (sighs in disgust) How would you characterize yourself?

TM: Uhm… I don’t really like to pigeon-hole myself. I’m just a guy trying to live my life, attending to my responsibilities as best I can.

HV: Right. Sure. What do you do for fun?

TM: Well, I like to spend time with my friends, my dog. I keep up on music, tech, films, etc. You know what I mean. We’re pretty similar.

HV: (under breath) You wish. (Audibly) Right. What’s it like being such an asshole?

TM: (laughs)

HV: Seriously.

TM: (Apparently under the false impression I’m kidding.) It’s great. (Laughs again.)

HV: What kind of music do you like?

TM: Oh, a little bit of everything. (Ed. note-pretentious) Some of my favorite artists include Will Oldham, Richard Thompson, Kate Bush, New Order… Uhm… I really like ambient music, neo-psych…

HV: Blah, blah, blah. I get it. Shitty stuff no one else likes.

TM: (laughs) Yeah. Pretty much.

HV: The old paradigm of music production and distribution has evolved quite a bit in the last ten years or so. Do you think we’re approaching a period of stability, or is that further ahead?

TM: Well, I think that’s an interesting question with a complicated answer. Clearly, the old model hasn’t dissolved completely, as many predicted it would by now. I can only speculate, but-

HV: I’m just kidding. No one cares what you think about that kind of stuff.

TM: Uhm.. O

kay.

HV: In fact, no one cares what you think about anything. This interview is

over.

TM: Okay.

HV: Wanna get a beer after work?

TM: Sure.

Lyle Lovett – Natural Forces

Lovett’s latest is an epic in the wide-open Texas tradition, featuring four original songs (“Natural Forces” and “Empty Blue Shoes” ranking among the finest he’s written) and another seven from various Texas songwriters, including Lovett’s heroes Townes Van Zandt and Robert Earl Keen (who co-wrote “It’s Rock and Roll,” the gritty, uptempo, album closer). Far more than just a curator and tasteful interpreter of others’ material, Lovett once again proves he can stand alongside the finest storytellers. (Read The Full Review)

Lightning Bolt – Earthly Delights

Earthly Delights is all about pure, elemental hedonism. The opening salvo of “Sound Guardians” and “Nation of Boar” finds the pair pilfering equally from the avant-jazz and thrash playbooks with jaw-dropping results, particularly when the latter track comes to its searing finale. But mostly, it’s their own playbook that Lightning Bolt keeps going back to: the otherworldly metal of Hypermagic’s “Riffwraith” and “Megaghost” isn’t so much a reference point for “The Sublime Freak” as it is a blueprint, while “Flooded Chamber” rehashes “Bizarro Zarro Land.” For every track that expands the band’s sound (say, “Funny Farm,” with its boozy Southern rock, or the quirky African-pop sketch “Rain On Lake I’m Swimming In”), there’s a much longer track rooted firmly in the familiar. The highlights demonstrate that these guys have yet to exhaust their uncanny vision, but by and large this is Lightning Bolt doing a Lightning Bolt album. Still, we sure as hell weren’t going to get one from anybody else. (Read The Full Review)

Atlas Sound – Logos

On Logos, his second album under the Atlas Sound moniker, Cox provides us with 11 songs that are far less insular, though no less dreamy, than those he has penned in the past. While his fractured compositions still evoke the myth of the bedroom pop auteur, the songs on Logos sound considerably more refined than the lo-fi sketches being churned out by many of his peers. This, as it turns out, is a very good thing. (Read the Full Review)

Kings of Convenience – Declaration of Dependence

The songs on Declaration of Dependence reveal everyday tensions with a cool, undemonstrative reserve. You can hear the spare but descriptive verses as about romance, the band itself, or global politics, depending on your preference. Where Riot opener “Homesick” offered the suggestive image of “two soft voices blended in perfection,” the new album’s first track, tender “24-25″, declares, “What we build is bigger than the sum of two.” Slowly shuffling “Renegade” uses bold, vivid brush strokes to carry out that old maxim, “If you love something, let it go”; “Why are you whispering when the bombs are falling?” a solitary voice asks, between slightly dissonant strums. “Riot on an Empty Street”, a holdover since years before the album of that same name, finds a traveling singer lost for words, but not for delicate melodies. (Read The Full Review)

Howdy.

I’m Sue and I popped it purely for about 2 years, from may 2004 until august 2006. I had just graduated from UVM and, go figure, wanted nothing to do with a profession that directly related to my degree in art education. Instead of trying to deter young children from eating paste or sticking crayons up their noses, I decided to earn my money by selling indy kids the latest pitchfork recommendation, hocking coldplay albums to soccermoms and getting overly excited upon the discovery of a nicely-saturated sharpie in the artists’ card’s art box.

A normal day consisted of working at PP, band practice, walking a quasi-retarded beagle around town and consuming grilled meat products flipped to perfection by one Michael Crandall.

My days of working at pure pop have been the highlight of my occupational history thus far, and if it weren’t for my undiagnosed case of extreme wanderlust I would most surely be a lifer behind that stickered counter. Like most everyone that works or has worked there, my musical knowledge and tastes became enhanced and refined thanks to the Pop. It was an exciting time for me. A normal day consisted of working at PP, band practice, walking a quasi-retarded beagle around town and consuming grilled meat products flipped to perfection by one Michael Crandall.

During those 2 years I may have lost half of my hearing and spend 2/5ths of my net income on vinyl special orders, but I also met some of the most interesting and musically knowledgeable people I know.

I left Burlington 3 years ago for Berlin, Germany with the hopes of becoming a go-for at Morr Music or the coffee girl at Monika Enterprises. Unfortunately all I got was a waitressing gig at an American Restaurant and a job teaching art to spoiled German children. Oh, sweet irony. My time in Berlin has been ‘wunderbar’, but this summer I left the Haupstadt and its neon clad minimal techno kids behind for greener pastures, literally. I have been travelling throughout Europe by bike for the past three months and am currently working on an organic farm outside Warsaw, Poland. Perhaps my 6 years of secondhand patchouli smoke inhalation is to blame.

So here are the ways being a music geek has helped me have fun so far on the trip:

Denmark: I pedaled into Kalvehaven, Denmark and found myself stopped outside a rawkus sailor bar. It wasn’t even dinner time and the place was packed with people singing and bells a-ringing. My kind of place. I found a hostel and quickly went back in hopes of joining the party. They had a jukebox and the dude next to me put on the Kinks.
I told him I liked his picks. He thought I said I liked his pigs. Hilarity ensued.

Norway: I once asked Chris Miller to explain to me the difference between black and death metal. He used the term ‘Cookie Monster’ somewhere in the explanation, but I can’t for the life of me remember in what context. Anyway, while in Oslo i got hit on by a drummer who was going on tour with Dimmu Borgir. When I said I knew of the band I think he peed himself a little. Aren’t they filed right next to Cattle Decapitation?

Read the rest of this entry »

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of riding down to Allston for a day of adventure and an evening of melancholy acoustic sets. The primary objective and cause for our trek was to catch the charming Mike Kinsella, performing as Owen on tour for his latest album New Leaves. My companions and I had seen Owen around this time last year at one of my favorite New England venues, The Middle East Upstairs. Not only am I a sucker for any remnant of the 90’s Midwestern music scene, Kinsella’s nonchalant manner and witty banter were enough to make the chance of seeing him again irresistible. To make my Sunday all the better, my roommate and sad girl songstress Jess McDermott (www.myspace.com/thenewandverywelcome) scheduled an acoustic appearance before the show in an Allston basement around the block from our destined venue, Great Scott.

And so, after a day of vegan restaurant sampling, romping around the greater Boston area during Harvard’s Octoberfest, and briefly playing audience to a basement stage of fine young minds with guitars, it was time to walk over to Great Scott to hear what Owen had in store for us this year. We showed up towards the end of the Finnish opening band Rubik’s set. They struck me as a Nordic version of The Format with a horn section and a bit of multitasking between floor toms and keyboards. The singer actually bore a striking resemblance to The Format front man, down to his hand claps and swagger.

Rubik’s rowdiness was fitting for the mixed climate of quiet music fans and bar goers alike, but by the time they exited the stage it was becoming apparent that even on a Sunday, a bar in Boston is a bold venue for the nature of the next two acts on the bill. I was becoming a bit nervous over how The One AM Radio would fare over the chatter in the back. The project composer Hrishikesh Hirway and his accompanying trio set up their minimal equipment up quickly, and were sitting behind their respective accordion, guitars and computer in no time. They twinkled through a beautiful set,  harmonies only slightly marred by the mob at the bar. I was especially impressed by clean and catchy folk influence of the songs they offered off their latest release “Here Anonymous.”

After a brief pause, Mike Kinsella took the stage, posing his characteristic question, “is there anything you want to talk about tonight?” The response was sheepish, so he dove humbly into the title track from New Leaves. The next time he posed the question of what to talk about though, the topic of his baby girl came up. When asked what she was going as for Halloween, Kinsella proudly explained that even though they would never pull it off in public, his daughter has a Hitler-esque mop of hair when combed over, and that he and his wife were planning on having a baby Hitler photo shoot. He also spoke about wanting to dress her up like baby Jesus to go trick or treating, but his wife already bought her a monkey costume.

Other questions posed by concert goers:

cg: What kind of shoes are you wearing?

mk: Brown.

cg: What kind of dog do you have?

mk: Brown.

cg: Is this your last tour?

mk: This isn’t really a tour, this is just hanging out.

As Mike played the rest of his painfully relatable tunes about the struggles and triumphs of average twenty somethings, it began to feel more and more like we were back in that comfortable basement around the corner. Most of the audience murmured along, snickering when the lyric “I’m tired of speaking up and speaking clearly so the idiots in the back can hear me” came along. In all, it was an enjoyable night and Mike was as charming and talented as ever. My only disappointment is that although New Leaves was recorded with a full band, the band only played at the release party. When the texture represented on the album was lost, there wasn’t much more than lyrical content to distinguish the new songs from old. It was just a guy, his guitar, and his songs. It wasn’t a tour, it was just hanging out. And although that may have disappointed my expectations of some sort of added grandeur to Owen’s performance of the year before, I wish more musicians wanted to just hang out with me.

Tanner, who since he was twelve spends most of his time planning an ever-more-elaborate, ever-less-likely-to-happen wedding for himself, came upon this dull website for what appears to be a collective of wedding dj’s. Amusingly, there’s a page of indie-rock themed wedding mixes, all of which look like rough drafts for the Garden State soundtrack. Being the bitter, dry husks of human beings that we are, the first thing we thought was, “What would the opposite of these mixes look like?”

In that spirit, we proudly offer you seven tracks to spoil the mood at a wedding.

1. The Big Pink -- Dominos

“As soon as I love her it’s been too long.
And I really love breaking your heart”

2. The Mountain Goats -- No Children
“And I hope when you think of me years down the line
You can’t find one good thing to say
And I’d hope that if I found the strength to walk out
You’d stay the hell out of my way
I am drowning
There is no sign of land
You are coming down with me
Hand in unlovable hand
And I hope you die
I hope we both die”

3. XTC -- Your Dictionary

“Now your laughter has a hollow ring
But the hollow ring has no finger in
So lets close the book and let the day begin
And our marriage be undone”

4. Rolling Stones -- Out of Time

“You’re out of touch, my baby
My poor discarded baby
I said, baby, baby, baby, you’re out of time”

5. Husker Du -- Never Talking to You Again

“I’d put you down where you belong
But I’m never talking to you again
I’d show you everywhere you’re wrong
But I’m never talking to you again”

6. The Misfits -- Last Caress

“Well, I got something to say
I killed your baby today
And it doesn’t matter much to me
As long as its dead”

7. Jarvis Cocker -- Don’t Let Him Waste Your Time

” ’cause the years fly by in an instant
and you wonder what he’s waiting for
and then some skinny bitch walks by in some hotpants
and he’s running out the door”

This past weekend fellow Pure Popper Amelia and I went to UVM to check out Of Montreal. As usual, they played their songs well, offering a bizarre and entertaining visual component, complete with psychedelic animations and costumed dancers. I really enjoyed a moment towards the end of the show when one of the dancers, dressed as Death, set up a chess board and proceeded to play with Kevin Barnes as he sang.

Unfortunately, the performance was at a gym. Every two years or so, I go to a gym concert just to remind myself to avoid them. Everything ends up sounding blown-out and muddy. Even with a great band like Of Montreal, I just don’t think shows in that kind of setting are worth it. I’m frankly baffled it’s standard practice to host music at gymnasiums. It’s analogous to playing baseball in an opera house.

The crowd seemed to really enjoy the show. They danced in that inept-but-charming New England college student way. (No offense to New England college students. You could all “serve” me.) As anything that takes place outside the confines of my bedroom usually does, the show made me feel old and out-of-touch. What is the relationship undergrads have with Of Montreal? Did their older siblings show them Satanic Panic in the Attic when they were in middle school? Do they love the Outback version of “Wraith Pinned to the Mist and Other Games“?

Over the course of the show, I observed someone wearing a tie-dyed Depeche Mode shirt, which is ridiculous. There were two gentlemen dressed identically down to their shoes, the most interesting thing about that being how innocuously bland they were dressed, like bankers on casual Friday. Someone threw an apple with one bite taken out of it by our feet. A girl wearing just a bit too little circled our area like a satellite, dancing for a few minutes as she looked around, seemingly yearning for someone to notice. (I did, sweetie.)

I look forward to seeing them again at a proper venue that will do them justice.