tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24532471598941432742024-02-21T02:19:07.653-05:00The Putnam PostJosh Putnamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301836432446874997noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453247159894143274.post-9410337586300973502022-01-06T17:00:00.213-05:002022-10-26T15:27:10.084-04:002021 in Review: Water From Your Eyes Structure<div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigW275PETz8wFOCqTZKKR7LCYp88RfoQxr_wmdFCDd9pmwqkynsjD7wYi35Q7LFdlPx1xHPostcelw19fKTUX9snRHlAW-wAX_99Fcz9_IBUE3msjpvhQwvLNRbZNa9jhNaDvstC12Sy498xrpWDLWZIhbA-YwjLpPr9WVhuXwbDMXCr0MSAQ5gaaxdg=s1143" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1143" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigW275PETz8wFOCqTZKKR7LCYp88RfoQxr_wmdFCDd9pmwqkynsjD7wYi35Q7LFdlPx1xHPostcelw19fKTUX9snRHlAW-wAX_99Fcz9_IBUE3msjpvhQwvLNRbZNa9jhNaDvstC12Sy498xrpWDLWZIhbA-YwjLpPr9WVhuXwbDMXCr0MSAQ5gaaxdg=w315-h320" width="315" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Structure</b> was released in August 2021 on Wharf Cat Records.</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><b><a href="https://waterfromyoureyes.bandcamp.com">Water From Your Eyes</a></b> burst onto my radar over the summer of 2021 like a lot of new releases do: I lug a bunch of downloaded records with me out on one of my extended weekend walks. So there I was, bebopping and scatting along when I pull the experimental duo's fifth record (and first on <b><a href="https://www.wharfcatrecords.com">Wharf Cat</a></b>), <b><a href="https://waterfromyoureyes.bandcamp.com/album/structure-2"><i>Structure</i></a></b>, up from the queue. </div><div><br /></div><div>And it starts innocently enough. The lead cut, "When You're Around," begins and you quickly get this peppy late 60s/early 70s vibe. It is like a song from a montage moment in a film from the era. Think "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on My Head," B.J. Thomas' song that appeared in one of those moments in <b><a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0064115/">Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid</a></b>. Now, that was a song that -- to me -- was typical of the period in which the movie was produced but not necessarily the era it was depicting. In other words, there was a disjunction. </div><div><br /></div><div>And I don't choose that song at random (even if I don't really think When You're Around is at all like Raindrops; just of songs of its ilk). I found it an effective starting point for the record (and super poppy paired with my walk<sup>1</sup>) as I initially listened to it. But it in no way prepares you for what follows.</div><div><br /></div><div>When You're Around fades and then silence for a few moments that are broken by three knocks. And then a brief silence again. The pattern continues, only with two knocks succeeded by a discordant note in the same sequence. That is the turning point. Because then, after a couple of seconds of pause, the bottom drops out. A loud, fuzzy synth blasts the door open and the record immediately takes a left turn into something completely different on "My Love's" and beyond. </div><div><br /></div><div>I mean, I love that feint, especially as a first encounter with the group. Here are the expectations for this album and our music. <i>Psych</i>! In some ways, it lures you even more into how Water From Your Eyes bends convention in crafting their music. </div><div><br /></div><div>There are a pair of spoken word tracks, so <i>Structure</i> really is just six proper songs in a little more than half an hour. But the duo of Rachel Brown and Nate Amos pack so much into that.""Quotations"," the album's closer, seemingly made a lot of year-end lists of top songs, but "My Love's" is such a genuine gem of synth pop noise. It pulsates with that same fuzzy blast echoing throughout, often in a call and response of sorts with the Brown's vocals. But even those give way to a staticky break in the transmission two-thirds of the way through the song. And in the absence of vocals, that jaunty little synth line and dissonant keys take over. It just works.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Quotations" (not to be confused with the aforementioned tune) and "Track Five" tread similar ground Although, the latter layers in the most danceable beat on the LP. That drum machine just screams late 80s hip hop and R&B. It isn't "If It Isn't Love" -- <b><i>like, AT ALL</i></b> -- but there are elements of it that are evocative of the late era New Edition single (for some reason in the musical hodgepodge in my head). And "Monday" slows things down to a tick tock pace and into ballad territory, but ballad with a stripped-down, airy twist, perhaps.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is a fun record. It sizzles and cracks in all the right, weird places, and it has had me dipping back into its well for more since late August. <i>Structure</i> is definitely one of those not to be overlooked LPs of 2021.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Notes:</div><div><sup>1</sup> Honestly, the vocals, not to mention the pacing, were reminiscent of <b><a href="https://broadcast.bandcamp.com">Broadcast</a></b> in my eye. That'll always check a box on my ledger.</div><div><div><br /></div><div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">--</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For more, follow The Putnam Post on <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/josh.putnam/">Instagram</a></b> and <b><a href="https://twitter.com/theputnampost">Twitter</a></b>.</span></p></div></div>Josh Putnamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301836432446874997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453247159894143274.post-60905965230581238012022-01-05T17:00:00.103-05:002022-01-05T22:38:12.147-05:002021 in Review: Goat Headsoup<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwNwCyg_EfFNe7JWUejDpaXQ6jhpsbniATAc6TzAI90fsyPynjymhlc2tsm9XUMM_L5es0gQ7IB_w-_Zf2rYkc3mX-mryAyXAbr6pBFlOXthdrKTTA2WrCmqSDzIjntrh73YHnPDDqV5nfFt4a1pN-JlP2wa5aEcomCcMONU5NH8_ezwOCFxh2BKNYGQ=s1153" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1153" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjwNwCyg_EfFNe7JWUejDpaXQ6jhpsbniATAc6TzAI90fsyPynjymhlc2tsm9XUMM_L5es0gQ7IB_w-_Zf2rYkc3mX-mryAyXAbr6pBFlOXthdrKTTA2WrCmqSDzIjntrh73YHnPDDqV5nfFt4a1pN-JlP2wa5aEcomCcMONU5NH8_ezwOCFxh2BKNYGQ=s320" width="312" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><b>Headsoup</b> was released in August 2021 on Rocket Recordings</i>.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Okay. Let's get this out of the way. <br /><div><br /></div><div>Enigmatic Swedish group, <b><a href="https://goat.bandcamp.com">Goat</a></b>'s 2021 record, <b><a href="https://goat.bandcamp.com/album/headsoup">Headsoup</a></b>, is dripping with 60s psychedelia. It's inescapable.</div><div><br /></div><div>But that's just the baseline. It's a wild ride. The first half of the record takes on a kind of jam band feel. No, not in that way. It's King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard with a world music flare. And while that marriage of psychedelia and world music might evoke Khruangbin, Goat delivers in a different, more African-tinged way with woodblock percussion on "Dreambuilding" or the woodwinds on "Union of Mind and Soul".</div><div><br /></div><div>"Union" sends things off in a different direction on side B. That King Gizzard foundation remains, but the jam expands. It's like Carrie Brownstein and Mary Timony from Wild Flag came over to lay vocals down and Bill Ward and Geezer Butler ducked out on Black Sabbath to add a darker, fuzzier, more brooding layer to that foundation. That heaviness peppers much of the back half of the album but is most apparent on both "Let It Burn - Edit" and "Fill My Mouth," the latter of which may as well also have Jethro Tull's Ian Anderson swooping in with a flute solo. [It sounds that way.]</div><div><br /></div><div>And if that sort of amalgamation does create enough of vision of a wall of experimental sounds, then Goat also veers off toward free jazz on "Friday, Pt. 1" in between those heavier two tunes toward the end of the record.</div><div><br /></div><div>Again, it is a wild ride, this album. I think I may have balked at side A on my first listen, but was drawn in once I started hearing Black Sabbath influences seep in as the record progressed. It may not be everyone's cup of tea, but Headsoup is a nice diversion if you're looking for a solid palate cleanser or just a fun, challenging listen.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">--</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For more, follow The Putnam Post on <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/josh.putnam/">Instagram</a></b> and <b><a href="https://twitter.com/theputnampost">Twitter</a></b>.</span></p></div>Josh Putnamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301836432446874997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453247159894143274.post-22079360669912148862022-01-04T17:00:00.148-05:002022-01-05T08:15:49.014-05:00New Music: Widowspeak "Everything is Simple"<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_O3HeVjkcX8djv4FjosGg6eEVEl__epUDhHoreFgsAz9UbIfT21cmjlLtiPAzZ7Ghjo-mud2_NrGuh1eTIJEVvxS4JEBGlytJGKZOW6iFyD6SNZz2iRFVV_HQiq11XbQsW8wbMgUe87ECkbneo5-i4E-uD1ooceAO0fut0UtpJVNc9LnDTlRiZGdcrQ=s1135" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1135" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh_O3HeVjkcX8djv4FjosGg6eEVEl__epUDhHoreFgsAz9UbIfT21cmjlLtiPAzZ7Ghjo-mud2_NrGuh1eTIJEVvxS4JEBGlytJGKZOW6iFyD6SNZz2iRFVV_HQiq11XbQsW8wbMgUe87ECkbneo5-i4E-uD1ooceAO0fut0UtpJVNc9LnDTlRiZGdcrQ=w317-h320" width="317" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><i>The Jacket</i></b> <i>will hit physical and virtual shelves on March 11.</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div>Well, happy freaking new year. </div><div><br /></div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></p><div>I didn't expect such a treasure so early in 2022. But <b><a href="https://widowspeak.bandcamp.com">Widowspeak</a></b> have already hit us with what is going to be a strong contender for <i>Most Listened to Song of 2022</i>, with their release of "Everything is Simple" off the forthcoming album, <b><a href="https://widowspeak.bandcamp.com/album/the-jacket">The Jacket</a></b>.<sup>1</sup></div><div><br /></div><div>Time is weird in its elasticity anyway. The days are long and the years are short some may say. But Covid time operates on a different plane. I swear it <i>feels</i> like <b><a href="https://widowspeak.bandcamp.com/album/plum">Plum</a></b>, the group's fifth LP, came out sometime last year. I know it didn't but it still feels that way, and the release of new material and a new album <i>feels</i> like a quick turnaround and an even more pleasant surprise. </div><div><br /></div><div>And this song. Oh, this song. </div><div><br /></div><div>Back in October, I caught the pair -- then a touring foursome -- at <b><a href="https://www.bandsintown.com/e/1022750887-temple-of-angels-at-reggies-42nd-street-tavern-cil">Reggie's in Wilmington, NC</a></b>, and they played Everything somewhere in the middle of their set. That one floored me as much for how good it was as for the questions it left implanted in my head. Is that new material or something from their back catalog that just isn't registering?</div><div><br /></div><div>That question haunted me the rest of the show and all the way home (until I could <i>hopefully</i> pull it up on Spotify). Alas, the hurried trip through the Widowspeak discography turned up nothing. I let it go. Other music came along in the days that followed to distracted me. It always does. Almost always.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I forgot about that song I couldn't place in October. I forgot about it until this morning when I was prompted about new music from Widowspeak. "Okay," I told myself. "I'll give this a whirl."</div><div><br /></div><div>The first chord hits. </div><div><br /></div><div>THAT'S THE SONG!!!!</div><div><br /></div><div>Indeed it was. Question answered. It was that same typically Americana-tinged Widowspeak with that low rumble of a repeated Robert Earl Thomas guitar riff to boot. Only now, from the studio with a restorative piano part that drifts in and out throughout the tune delivering some additional emotional oomph. As if it needed any extra. Molly Hamilton honed her vocal craft in new ways (to me) on Plum. There was more patience to that delicate voice on the 2020 release that returns in spades here on Everything, tying it all together. </div><div><br /></div><div>The <b><a href="https://youtu.be/mPa08P7e_e0">video</a></b> for "Everything is Simple" conjures up a western motif, and you can hear that, too. But this one hits -- because of that riff and its pace -- like something emanating from some dusty blues dive somewhere out on the lonesome plains. There's a tension there. That sludgy guitar part feels like something struggling to escape some hardscrabble life with a piano line that intermittently pops in to goad it into persisting and Hamilton's vocals there to ruefully tell the tale.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is some combination and one hell of a musical gift to kick off a new year.</div><div><br /></div><div><i>The Jacket</i> is out on March 11 on <b><a href="https://capturedtracks.com">Captured Tracks</a></b>.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Notes:</div><div><sup>1</sup> There's some wisdom to releasing a banger of a single on just the fourth day of the year. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">--</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For more, follow The Putnam Post on <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/josh.putnam/">Instagram</a></b> and <b><a href="https://twitter.com/theputnampost">Twitter</a></b>.</span></p></div>Josh Putnamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301836432446874997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453247159894143274.post-1781864041258129972022-01-03T17:00:00.108-05:002022-01-03T22:19:27.017-05:002021 in Review: blue smiley return<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjt38kgO5xl8BqHiUbVuodZCGA-lepEgDrir6M6ZaoZMS_3ad5C3Yq3XgkzUaGqak8DB7WxPEptXgbf3yCtDsclcHh0-0CO1skwL9jLQeZLU7jhaWUzEE1-hq_OSDWLK2_PyAyQNzSJiI6D5x3w_HUAKyTotRpuT26EjeQq3KQMb8IKbY4DP_zIpnM-4Q=s1137" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1137" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjt38kgO5xl8BqHiUbVuodZCGA-lepEgDrir6M6ZaoZMS_3ad5C3Yq3XgkzUaGqak8DB7WxPEptXgbf3yCtDsclcHh0-0CO1skwL9jLQeZLU7jhaWUzEE1-hq_OSDWLK2_PyAyQNzSJiI6D5x3w_HUAKyTotRpuT26EjeQq3KQMb8IKbY4DP_zIpnM-4Q=s320" width="317" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Return</i> was self released in 2016.</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Sometimes the algorithm giveth. <div><br /></div><div>And sometimes it giveth and makes you shake your head in disbelief that you haven't already stumbled upon a group. I don't even remember what record I was listening to in the late summer -- maybe the latest <b><a href="https://quiversss.bandcamp.com/album/golden-doubt">Quivers album</a></b> or maybe the new <b><a href="https://filmschoolmusic.bandcamp.com/album/we-werent-here-2">Film School</a></b> -- that ultimately fed into a <b><a href="https://bluesmiley.bandcamp.com">blue smiley</a></b> song from its second LP, <b><a href="https://bluesmiley.bandcamp.com/album/return"><i>return</i></a></b>. But I doubled back and gave "bird" a couple more spins before I was won over enough to give the full album a go. </div><div><br /></div><div>Throughout <i>return</i>, the vocals often hover in the fuzzy ether as an instrument but not a predominant one, in the same way they often do on any number of My Bloody Valentine cuts. Yet, this is a tough record to place musically. There is a very definite fuzzy (yeah, I used that term again) heaviness wedded to a jangly pop edge with an occasional synth layered in that makes the whole thing the musical equivalent of a bike with a warped wheel that is also out of alignment. It works, and works well even, but there is something just a little off about it. However, it is off in the most beautiful way.<br /><div><br /></div><div>The aforementioned "bird" and "tree" serve as bookends on the record and are the clear standouts on an album that doesn't mess around. Nine tracks in total clock in at just more than 20 minutes. They almost all arrive with a sort of reckless abandon (raw and urgent), make their point and head out the door, often in under two minutes. It is all just enough to make you want to listen again. </div><div><br /></div><div>...and again. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sure, I'm late to the party, but <i>return</i> was one of the happiest of my accidental discoveries in all of 2021.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">--</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For more, follow The Putnam Post on <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/josh.putnam/">Instagram</a></b> and <b><a href="https://twitter.com/theputnampost">Twitter</a></b>.</span></p></div></div>Josh Putnamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301836432446874997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453247159894143274.post-46692850497286915342022-01-02T17:00:00.171-05:002022-01-04T16:43:35.778-05:002021 in Review: Motorists Surrounded<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjXValJ2KHV421b-kV-1cb88IQ7IeFQKZD6teWPy4nfYMe2cI-kkqPDWq5zUfaK8ypltMxOAT_Y7mJ1zBuyVE4PYxzuo74iDPpMO-VdyIahJ0wRsQVRfllEu33McnZi3dT6KUFgWdTEJhOpLB1OqzzTATnk8e7xJdQsT_GadW9vk_iHzLWU1nDpj1eyGA=s981" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="981" data-original-width="978" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjXValJ2KHV421b-kV-1cb88IQ7IeFQKZD6teWPy4nfYMe2cI-kkqPDWq5zUfaK8ypltMxOAT_Y7mJ1zBuyVE4PYxzuo74iDPpMO-VdyIahJ0wRsQVRfllEu33McnZi3dT6KUFgWdTEJhOpLB1OqzzTATnk8e7xJdQsT_GadW9vk_iHzLWU1nDpj1eyGA=w319-h320" width="319" /></a>I don't know. The back half of 2021 saw -- at least where I was looking -- a lot of hype for <b><a href="https://geeseband.com">Geese</a></b> as an heir to The Strokes. I get it: young, up and coming NYC band with a DIY/garagey sound. Fine, but I'd honestly take <b><a href="https://gustaf-nyc.bandcamp.com">Gustaf</a></b> and their <b><a href="https://gustaf-nyc.bandcamp.com/album/audio-drag-for-ego-slobs">album</a></b> if I had to choose in the New York space.<sup>1</sup> </div><div><br /></div><div>The thing is, that sound is not confined to Gotham. In fact, north of the border in Toronto, Motorists cooked up a mélange of sound on their 2021 debut LP, <b><i><a href="https://bobointegral.bandcamp.com/album/surrounded">Surrounded</a></i></b>. (<b><a href="https://wearetime.bandcamp.com/merch">We Are Time</a></b> [US], <b><a href="https://www.bobointegral.com">Bobo Integral</a></b> [most everywhere else]). The trio jangle their way through twelve tracks that consistently marry the post-punk of Gang of Four or Pylon with the 80s college radio sensibilities of REM. And yeah, those are lofty comparisons, but Motorists deliver time and again. </div><div><br /></div><div>The title track kicks things off catchily enough, but it feeds into the even hookier <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/2gO9YMOGRN3yvKHuhvcahd?si=25ad898bbf064ae3">"Vainglorious."</a></b> Then you spend the rest of the record saying to yourself, "It can't get any catchier/hookier than this, can it?" I don't know that it does match those first two cuts, but damn, it comes close. </div><div><br /></div><div>...a lot. </div><div><br /></div><div>This record reminds me of that Barney Stinson line about the science behind a good (music) mix from the <b><a href="https://how-i-met-your-mother.fandom.com/wiki/The_Limo">early New Year's Eve episode of How I Met Your Mother</a></b>: "<i>Now, people often think that a good mix should rise and fall, but people are wrong. It should be all rise, baby!</i>" </div><div><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div><b><i>Surrounded</i></b> rises quickly and maintains a plateau throughout. It is one of the most underrated albums of 2021. I mean, the lo-fi 80s VHS <b><a href="https://youtu.be/R6YqwIsjhms">video</a></b> for the title track -- complete with masked drummer (yeah, covid mask) -- should sell you on that right off the bat. </div><div><br /></div><div>Notes:</div><div><sup>1</sup> Seriously, with a record called Audio Drag for Ego Slobs, how could you not give the nod to Gustaf anyway?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">--</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For more, follow The Putnam Post on <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/josh.putnam/">Instagram</a></b> and <b><a href="https://twitter.com/theputnampost">Twitter</a></b>.</span></p></div>Josh Putnamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301836432446874997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453247159894143274.post-26705236148259182702022-01-01T19:30:00.002-05:002022-01-06T13:31:52.894-05:00The 2021 Playlist is in<div style="text-align: left;">The first rule of playlist is you don't talk about... Wait, that was a <b><a href="https://fightclub.fandom.com/wiki/Fight_Club">different set of rules</a></b>. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Ever since 2012, I have put together a playlist for the year. The premise is simple enough: chuck a bunch of songs into a growing (and evolving in real time) Spotify playlist made up of songs that moved me in some way at some point between January 1 and December 31 of any given year.<sup>1</sup> After a couple of trial runs, the rules for assembling said playlists were largely solidified in probably 2014 when I set out with the goal of listening to one new (or new to me) album a day (or at least averaging an album a day over the course of the year). </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">[<i>I mean, if that isn't a New Years resolution you can get behind, then I don't know what to tell you</i>.]</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Like any set of rules, there is a healthy mix of permissive and restrictive structures that guide inclusion.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">On the permissive side, I don't have to like the whole record, most of a record or really the whole song for that matter for a tune to make the cut. There are always a handful of songs every year where there is an element in an otherwise nondescript song that does something for me. Take <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/6n3JvVTmEAUS6uM33ZwLfq?si=KFvndKGWQZmhNFkY__0wow">Barrie's song "Clovers"</a></b> from 2019, for example. There's a part of me that will always say that that one is a bit too far out on the poppy end of the spectrum to fit neatly into even my broad musical sensibilities. That said, that bouncy synth line about three-quarters of the way in that runs through the end clouds my judgment of the song in its entirety. I fall for it every time. Usually it is something on the low end of the register (read: bass) that draws me in or some other <b><a href="https://www.theputnampost.com/2021/09/two-point-oh.html">snaps and farts</a></b>.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">There are also low barriers to entry elsewhere. A song does not have to be new, new to me or released in the year of aggregation to be included in the yearly playlist. Again, the main criterion is that a song -- or element of it -- moves me in some way. It can be an older song. Often one will drift back onto my radar through film or TV. Year after year, television gets better and better at augmenting the final product with (what I'll call popular) music. And hey, sometimes nostalgia just brings a song back up into your memory bank and it serves as a sort of mile marker in the year in question.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Yet, there are some restrictions in place that limit what passes muster. Music from one artist or group can appear in the playlist more than once but only if they are songs from different albums or EPs. Just from a listening (back) perspective, you don't want artists to dominate even the shuffle of a playlist. That can mean some <b><a href="https://www.dictionary.com/e/slang/sophies-choice/">Sophie's choice</a></b> situations if there are two or more tunes on a record that you're torn over including. [<i>There are work-arounds to this. That's why it can be good to have a summer playlist you can dump good but +1 songs into</i>.]</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Generally, in recent years I have also had a one song a day for the year goal as well. But I'm less strict about that. There has to be some quality threshold. I'm not going to include a song just to include it and get to 365 songs as New Years approaches. Covid helps in this one area. The pandemic has had me listening to a LOT more music these last two years. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">[<i>As an aside, if you follow along with the <b>Musical interludes</b> I do in my Instagram stories and on Twitter most days, then these playlists might look like an aggregation of those. But just because a song is a musical interlude, does not mean that it will make the playlist. Most interludes do, but some of those are drawn from past playlists as well. And I try not to add a song to multiple yearly playlists. It happens. Hey, music moves us all in different ways at different times. But it happens rarely.</i>]</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5ocTHwjzKtRDh7u5vzu23N?si=bbf4c14de40b4bbe">The 2021 playlist</a></b> includes 390 tracks and clocks in at a little more than 25 and a half hours. Enjoy. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><iframe allow="encrypted-media" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="380" src="https://open.spotify.com/embed/playlist/5ocTHwjzKtRDh7u5vzu23N" width="100%"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><sup>1</sup> Playlists cannot (or should not in my mind) be listened to before the end of the first quarter of the year in which they are being curated. The reasoning is twofold. First, it allows for the accumulation of enough songs to actually be a real playlist and not just some weirdly small collection of songs. But second, that rule is in place to give tunes added late in the year to the previous year's playlist a chance to sink in a bit more. Otherwise, they can get lost, ahem, in the shuffle. Regardless, having a contemporaneous playlist always -- ALWAYS -- skews my Spotify Wrapped at the end of November each year. These playlists offer a bit of a "Re-wrapped" for me at the end of the first quarter. ...that includes December music/listens!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">--</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For more, follow The Putnam Post on <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/josh.putnam/">Instagram</a></b> and <b><a href="https://twitter.com/theputnampost">Twitter</a></b>.</span></p></div>Josh Putnamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301836432446874997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453247159894143274.post-89313193276887249302021-09-23T15:00:00.003-04:002021-09-23T15:03:43.999-04:00Library Baby release "I Guess"<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6JlsHmfyToJ0q6KnmC8bpVUZBVdmJgU6puGUAvu0T_dOEJO18G5f5PU7e5M_44LR9JzpPZhuvTcuZYDysatWbEIE_Y5vfFJq8Nn4bv4PqafTIpEqG-umYx6g87D2BZgnO7EpcdTJz7Iu/s1082/library-baby_i-guess.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1082" data-original-width="1077" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6JlsHmfyToJ0q6KnmC8bpVUZBVdmJgU6puGUAvu0T_dOEJO18G5f5PU7e5M_44LR9JzpPZhuvTcuZYDysatWbEIE_Y5vfFJq8Nn4bv4PqafTIpEqG-umYx6g87D2BZgnO7EpcdTJz7Iu/s320/library-baby_i-guess.jpg" width="319" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"I Guess" was released on Crying Cat Records on Sept. 17</span></td></tr></tbody></table><b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/librarybabyxo/">Library Baby</a></b>'s sound has an air to it. It subtly drifts in and out on a gentle wind and that breeze just kind of washes over you as you listen. <div><br /></div><div>And so it is again on the group's latest single, "<b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/05Vo6VTYdqRAYLbaAFWhxh?si=6-VxTQLXQLGsI0pqC2aq4A&dl_branch=1">I Guess</a></b>," another signature spare number placing Sarah Royal's fragile vocals out in front of Justin Lacy's atmospherics. Together, they weave this tapestry of sound that plays with space in the music in a way that many are not patient enough to. It has been argued that music itself is not the notes on the music sheet, but rather, the area in between those notes. Library Baby consistently works well with and in that space in their music. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was true in the early spring with the release of "<b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/7AMdlTR7NxStRn6TaHOr8y?si=CdCUwH1SQFqELYb19VqlMw&dl_branch=1">How I Say My Name</a></b>" as well. That song is driven by this swooning clarinet (or is it bassoon?) sound that makes a bit of a reprise cameo in "I Guess" but accompanied this time in a the song's climax by swirling strings and a kind of gypsy guitar sound that evokes Anton Karas's <b><a href="https://youtu.be/2oEsWi88Qv0">theme from The Third Man</a></b> or almost any of the tunes from that <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/1599kmiSkmYjaeeZGGSHCD?si=no59c2GYRYaj2NnI_CsiyQ&dl_branch=1">Django Reinhardt/Stephane Grappelli collaboration</a></b> in the late 40s. </div><div><br /></div><div>It is a nice touch. And "I Guess" adds to an already promising catalog from the Wilmington duo. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">--</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For more, follow The Putnam Post on <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/josh.putnam/">Instagram</a></b> and <b><a href="https://twitter.com/theputnampost">Twitter</a></b>.</span></p></div>Josh Putnamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301836432446874997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453247159894143274.post-89152846300770446492021-09-22T15:00:00.477-04:002021-09-22T16:27:11.636-04:00REWIND: Autolux -- Future Perfect<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkcNex8VMCRPJXDeWw9yR7FfMKAqd2yBWdW11QyJ2EiWkxHxUJAtVR6P5f6LBWYSLLDDRLBbk1u3yxySLxE0iliHCRBCfVNht9mtrnpvnSFOBWqZMsLbjT4mHzGf14nd7HFhZMUCmLhw9/s1159/autolux_future-perfect.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1159" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnkcNex8VMCRPJXDeWw9yR7FfMKAqd2yBWdW11QyJ2EiWkxHxUJAtVR6P5f6LBWYSLLDDRLBbk1u3yxySLxE0iliHCRBCfVNht9mtrnpvnSFOBWqZMsLbjT4mHzGf14nd7HFhZMUCmLhw9/s320/autolux_future-perfect.jpg" width="311" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Autolux released its debut, </i>Future Perfect<i>, in 2004</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table>It's Greg Edwards' fault. <div><br /></div><div>The guy who penned the simultaneously mundane and quirky opening line, "Say hello to the rug's topography," to Failure's "<i>The Nurse Who Loved Me</i>" pulled me over to Autolux. In the time after the space rockers -- Failure hate that description -- called it quits in 1997, all I really wanted to soothe my soul was something that approximated or expanded on 1996's <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/5hbxMCegyQPhpycfjtlW6I?si=UmgltqNyR5uweduWVBC73g&dl_branch=1">Fantastic Planet</a></b>. [The group's masterpiece remains the criminally underappreciated.]</div><div><br /></div><div>It is, of course, folly to wish for things that don't really need to be repeated or copied anyway. But in the absence of something <i>like</i> Fantastic Planet, I did what a lot of folks do: I followed the band members on to their next projects. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ken Andrews went on to do some solo stuff under the moniker, <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/artist/4GMU2DAHBsDmU7Dm0kyw0A?si=iVLKhZLASvqzUqwDAixXaQ&dl_branch=1">On</a></b> (2000), and started <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/artist/1Q1IXJ7EgDUFQTAurewIKd?si=olie8ToXR7uH30YkXAcdkg&dl_branch=1">Year of the Rabbit</a></b> (2003). Those were both fun, but they did little to sate my desire for something else. Andrews also donned a producers hat, working on Blinker the Star's 1999 record, <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/7HhpkrCb3YDCTOIUslLKIO?si=4f_NHd7eTUaL72H6Ap4NiQ&dl_branch=1">August Everywhere</a></b>. And while I still have a soft spot in my heart for that album, Fantastic Planet (or Fantastic Planet-like) it is not. </div><div><br /></div><div>Neither is Autolux.</div><div><br /></div><div>And that's entirely beside the point. Because in following Edwards to the LA trio and stumbling on their debut, <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/6LoLOun0sJqNEpSuDZrKoS?si=6jdElN-IRwycL9gZov3_jw&dl_branch=1">Future Perfect</a></b> (2004), I found something that not only filled that void but eclipsed it.<sup>1</sup></div><div><br /></div><div>Let's go track by track. Listen along (Spotify link above).</div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>Turnstile Blues</i>"</div><div>Right out of the gate, Turnstile Blues is nothing remarkable until you consider that that lonesome drum beat up front is being powered by Carla Azar's <b><a href="https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2003-nov-06-wk-popb6-story.html">bionic elbow</a></b>. Bassist Eugene Goreshter enters with vocals and then at almost a minute in the distortion kicks in and starts to announce what Autolux is about: noise, noise, glorious noise.</div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>Angry Candy</i>"</div><div>Angry Candy revs up to speed with a heavier fuzziness, but it is also a tune where we're first treated to another Autolux signature: the occasional vocal flourish. You can't call it doo wop, but -- and this factors in on later songs -- the band are hardly bashful about throwing in a doo do do (or whatever) not as filler but as part of the tapestry of any given song. [And for those of us who don't really hear lyrics until like the billionth listen, this sort of use of the vocal instrument can be a nice touch if done right. Autolux pull it off well.]</div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>Subzero Fun</i>"</div><div>This is one you can feel from the get go is going to start in low, build the tension and then release it, kicking into overdrive. And it does. That opening line is a killer over that repeated, simple enough strum. ["You're my preferred route... ...down."] Azar kicks it up a notch leaning on that bass drum. And then, bang, like a machine in some abandoned factory grinding to life, the chorus takes off. And that grind is the key. </div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>Sugarless</i>"</div><div>Cripes. What can you say about Sugarless? I've loved this one since the very first time I heard it. The formula isn't all that different from Turnstile, although there is a bit more complexity to the introductory part of the song. But then that drop -- oh, that drop -- hits a little more than a minute in. Exquisite. But the song is also the first to feature Azar on vocals (on the first part of the repeated chorus). This is something I can say in retrospect after years of listening, but songs with Azar on vocals are always good. Always. They are sporadic enough that they don't feel like the group are just doing that thing The Beatles did in giving Ringo "his" songs on an album. No, instead, Azar-sung songs are like a seal of approval, a guarantee that something good is coming down the pike. There's just a consistency to them over three records now. And to top it all off, there is that extended whirling dervish of an outro complete with vocal accoutrement (see Angry Candy) to close the song. It's one of those sequences you listen to on the recording and think to yourself, "That would be cool live." It is.</div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>Blanket</i>"</div><div>Some track had to follow Sugarless and Blanket does yeoman's work in trying to keep up the pace of that scorcher. It's those reverby bits on the guitar in the chorus that carry the load. It is one of those things that makes you wonder whether something is wrong with your equipment. Is the speaker blown? What's wrong. Music that gives you that feint can be really rewarding. Well, to some of us anyway. </div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>Great Days for the Passenger Element</i>"</div><div>Not that the album moves at breakneck speed to this point, but Autolux downshift into first gear on Great Days. It is a change of pace, yes, and fair or not, it works in essence like the segues Failure has peppered its albums with since Fantastic Planet. It is a palate cleanser. But the distorted conclusion does in some ways foreshadow the band's use of darker bass on 2016's <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/4B6KQBUaz5boUDq0AT33vN?si=0pMzgndpTPqD4lQlTuXy3Q&dl_branch=1">Pussy's Dead</a></b>. [It wasn't all <b><a href="https://www.straight.com/music/705266/beyonce-producer-gave-autolux-needed-boot">Boots</a></b>.]</div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>Robots in the Garden</i>"</div><div>Ah, here's that warped machine whirring back into form again. Robots is a buzzsaw that is nearly over before it starts, a quick number that packs all the fuzz, reverb and other distortions that one might crave.</div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>Here Comes Everybody</i>"</div><div>But then the pace drops off again. Part of returning to that crescendoing song structure is that an album in which it is used can feel like a bit of a rollercoaster. Throughout Future Perfect, Autolux use that with aplomb. And hey, this song replaces those doo do dos with sha la las. And yeah, Azar is delivering them. So, check. This one is good too. "Here comes everybody you never cared... ...for... ...sha la la!" That line sends the song off in a fiery jam that feeds into the warbled keys over deep pulses that transition into another Azar turn on vocals in...</div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>Asleep at the Trigger</i>"</div><div>Sure, Asleep at the Trigger slows things down again, but it is a gauzier song that is great in its use of space. It's a patient track with a melancholic overtone that you can fall for every time. And, my god, that ambling ending is like lava slowly working its way down the gentle slope of a volcano that long ago blew its top and has incrementally built its way part of the way back up. </div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>Plantlife</i>"</div><div>The fade out on Asleep meets the fade in of Plantlife. But what comes in alongside some spacey bleeps and bloops is something with a little bit more urgency. Unmistakably, however, it is that formula again: slow and low, building to something, this time through calls of "we're so dumb" and later exhortations of "shut your mouth". Plantlife never reaches the same peaks as some of the other preceding songs, but it isn't supposed to. It's purpose is to set up the closer, part of a progression over the final three songs.</div><div><br /></div><div>"<i>Capital Kind of Strain</i>"</div><div>Finally, Capital is a slow build, brick by brick over the first more than three and a half minutes. Everything -- vocals, drums, guitar, bass -- is like the rhythm section of a jazz combo: repeating, dutifully keeping time behind some improvisation. But here, it is some spacey synth stuff deftly meandering around all the other component parts keeping time. And then, just as it seems as if the song will fade away and the record come to a close, it all comes rushing back, louder and more insistent with contorted guitars groaning in the background. This is one to listen to through headphones because things drift off almost into oblivion and then pop right back up again. But it is a brief fever dream that loses momentum and fades out.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>--</div><div>So yeah, Future Perfect is pretty great. It is a benchmark by which I measure other records, not just those by Autolux. It isn't my favorite album. I don't play the favorite game because I think I'm probably still in search of it. But Future Perfect is very high up on my list. And it certainly is the bedrock of the sorts of <b><a href="https://www.theputnampost.com/2021/09/two-point-oh.html">snaps and farts</a></b> I look for in (and view as good) music.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>-- </div><div><sup>1</sup> Yes, 2001's Demostration EP predates Future Perfect, but I didn't get to that material until after Future Perfect had already gotten its claws into me. </div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">--</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For more, follow The Putnam Post on <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/josh.putnam/">Instagram</a></b> and <b><a href="https://twitter.com/theputnampost">Twitter</a></b>.</span></p></div></div>Josh Putnamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301836432446874997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453247159894143274.post-18280546621280527932021-09-22T14:00:00.001-04:002021-09-22T15:04:57.701-04:00If the Descent is only Decent, then Happy Pill's debut rocks by comparison<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyyTdom9nRzv3VLq6y632nFxFqkF6O2_9yhmf0k4YZTuDXr20LEGe6qqC5TNvk3GYTlLvbX7qgc1vnPqT420BroUji6-xm11q2z7ZNSNX3dI0BECmOy1XWtJG234n5ZADe5Hz2BNFcFxPW/s1154/happy-pill_decent-descent.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1154" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyyTdom9nRzv3VLq6y632nFxFqkF6O2_9yhmf0k4YZTuDXr20LEGe6qqC5TNvk3GYTlLvbX7qgc1vnPqT420BroUji6-xm11q2z7ZNSNX3dI0BECmOy1XWtJG234n5ZADe5Hz2BNFcFxPW/w312-h320/happy-pill_decent-descent.jpg" width="312" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Decent Descent from Happy Pill came out on August 8</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table>[<i>Come for the dad joke headlines, stay for the scintillating analysis </i><wink>]<br /><div><br /></div><div>Pandemic time is weird. There is an elasticity to it that makes some things that happened not all that long ago feel like they did. Wilmington, NC band, <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/artist/0Bh6P3yUwnHLl8tA4krEXS?si=9i15wQDSTLCq8YmSOsnrlA&dl_branch=1">Happy Pill</a></b>, is a good example of that. I feel like they popped onto my radar on Instagram near the before times during the beginning stages of the lockdown in 2020. Well, I got the time of year right, but the year wrong. Local music Instagram was aflutter with mentions of the five piece in the spring of 2021, and then it wasn't (at least in my corner of the world). </div><div><br /></div><div>As it does, life happens. Umpteen new records came out, other stuff got heaped on my plate, and I lost track. I lost track, that is, until recently when, lo and behold, social media brought mention of Happy Pill back onto my screen.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hey! What are those guys up to? <b><i>They put a record out</i></b>!?! [Immediately adds album to listening queue.]</div><div><br /></div><div>I'd be kicking myself for missing five weeks of listening to <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/2RPUyCqwFs3ibwL69WW6BY?si=fMH662W1RimyrUYcGn4toA&dl_branch=1">Decent Descent</a></b>, the group's debut, if I wasn't having such a good time listening to it right now in the present tense. At a time when most albums clock in at anywhere from half an hour to 45 minutes, Happy Pill turn in a true long player with 14 songs running nearly an hour in change. And it is an eclectic blend. </div><div><br /></div><div>Off the top, "<i>Stayin' Home</i>" hits like early <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/artist/40iUcsx6LWJ0DEPryPmU30?si=ZNa9K8pdQJC4MPj-e37LBA&dl_branch=1">Sneaks</a></b> when it was just Eva Moolchan, a bass and a drum machine. That leads into "<i>Describe the Light</i>," which sounds like 70s era singer/songwriter stuff until the keys really come in and bring a loungy feel -- in a good way! -- with it. Then there is a series of tunes -- "<i>Crossed My Mind</i>," "<i>Turn Your Back</i>," and "<i>Believe in Urself</i>" -- that carry a kind of John Mayer vibe. I'm no fan of Mayer. He continues to strike me as a bit smarmy. [Sorry, not sorry.] But you can't deny his musicianship. He's got chops. And that set of songs from Happy Pill is all the solid musicianship without the smarminess. And then there's "<i>Thinkin' Bout Food</i>." It's a hell of an earworm, but I couldn't shake thinking about how "<i>Yesterday</i>" started out with Paul McCartney on a guitar singing "scrambled eggs" as filler until the words we all know came along. This song may or may not see another life, but in the meantime, we're left with a super catchy tune.</div><div><br /></div><div>But where Happy Pill (unsurprisingly) grabs me is when they veer off in a 90s post-hardcore, tangentially shoegazey direction on songs like "<i>See Thru</i>" and "<i>Anyone Who Loves Me</i>." And look folks, don't get me started on "<i>In This Moment</i>." I'll push the elderly and children aside <b><a href="https://youtu.be/4TuEWtXBT_0">like George Costanza fleeing a "fire"</a></b> to be first in line to listen to that one. [<b>Editor's note:</b> No, I wouldn't, but I do really dig that song.] That moment where Julia Rothenberg's delicate vocals are juxtaposed with a surging tidal wave of sound leading into the second verse is just beautiful. It's card that, when it's played well, gets me every time. Here, that card is played well.</div><div><br /></div><div>Some may look at the ground covered on Decent Descent and say that Happy Pill are kind of all over the place on their first record. Poppycock. This is band that is not that long in the tooth and has seen some turnover in that short tenure. But they show a hell of a lot of potential. Hell, I'm more than happy to sit back and watch (and listen!) as they develop their voice. No rush, y'all, but I'm looking forward to what's next. And we've got more than enough to tide us over until then.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">--</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For more, follow The Putnam Post on <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/josh.putnam/">Instagram</a></b> and <b><a href="https://twitter.com/theputnampost">Twitter</a></b>.</span></p></div>Josh Putnamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301836432446874997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453247159894143274.post-86708286180719594382021-09-22T13:00:00.001-04:002021-09-22T15:04:44.291-04:00Low has another winner in HEY WHAT<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4W1lha_L53csSgQewcVyUKKm9lZuK4ff_1H2j2VQyAamM4-uKmVdzmVw2EHAYP5FCqzT6WSi-XwzmJpXAlYUaULT2hjTpCdsYIaAfKK7rTlkSE3m4anTBWawgYDiUsaXuUwp4NKnT4WlS/s1157/low_heywhat.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1157" data-original-width="1125" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4W1lha_L53csSgQewcVyUKKm9lZuK4ff_1H2j2VQyAamM4-uKmVdzmVw2EHAYP5FCqzT6WSi-XwzmJpXAlYUaULT2hjTpCdsYIaAfKK7rTlkSE3m4anTBWawgYDiUsaXuUwp4NKnT4WlS/w311-h320/low_heywhat.jpg" width="311" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Low's HEY WHAT was released September 10 on Sub Pop</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">No one likely needs an introduction to Duluth, Minnesota band, Low. The three piece has been at it a while, churning out spare, what-you-see-is-what-you-get rock for nearly three decades. Yet, my path did not cross theirs — well, their music’s — until 2005’s sunny <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/0TtSidnyfFcIBWsFwrPvtw?si=Ty4buWdGSI6X0wkzeLhxvw&dl_branch=1">The Great Destroyer</a></b> (Sub Pop), a happenstance discovery via probably <b><a href="https://www.npr.org/sections/allsongs/">All Songs Considered</a></b> or some magazine. [I know. How quaint.] </span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Subsequent music from the trio drifted in and out of my life until 2018 when Low released <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/0fWKkkVCj14CllpjPLjU9P?si=Z8aR9tTERX2kft63hkCRiA&dl_branch=1">Double Negative</a></b> (Sub Pop). At the time, the record was hailed as, if not a departure from, then an evolution to the formula the band had tended to use to that point in their career. Fine, that was enough to get me to give it a whirl. </span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">First impression? Not good. And folks, I’m just about as tolerant a music listener as you will find. I can feel guilty for not liking some records that I feel like I should like based on some history with the band or whatever. But Double Negative did not do it for me. </span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">However, that said more about me than it did about the album. Because I wasn’t done with Double Negative and its warped and crumpled contours. I trekked out to the beach one weekend, pressed play and started walking. As the landscape became more desolate, Mimi Parker’s and Alan Sparhawk’s warbled harmonies fronting crackling distortions began to make <i>much</i> more sense to me. It all clicked. And there’s a lesson in there. There’s this commingling of time and place and mood with music when they cross paths and dance, however fleetingly, that never ceases to surprise and is almost always among the most beautiful of things. </span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So, when <b><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/6S6jg2LuEwGdo9iYMSwCBS?si=J5iFeJDeSdeHT2Ui7sEGiA&dl_branch=1">HEY WHAT</a></b> (Sub Pop) was released recently, I was better prepared. I was in a better headspace before I tackled it. And it is a fantastic extension of the tracks Low laid down on Double Negative. Those vocal harmonies may not be the prettiest out there, but there is this quality about them — and this is nothing new — that makes them feel like home. Over (or hell, behind) the hairpin bends and breaks of the lurching guitars, those vocals on songs like “<i>More</i>” or “<i>Disappearing</i>” or “<i>Hey,</i>” for example, are like a call from somewhere distant. Not a distress call from space necessarily, but a reassuring message (albeit with some urgency) from somewhere out there, whether in the cosmos or your own head. What better soundtrack for these times.</span></p>
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<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And if that is the sort of diversion you need, then HEY WHAT is worth a spin.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">--</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For more, follow The Putnam Post on <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/josh.putnam/">Instagram</a></b> and <b><a href="https://twitter.com/theputnampost">Twitter</a></b>.</span></p>Josh Putnamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301836432446874997noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2453247159894143274.post-9197547379899073472021-09-22T12:00:00.001-04:002021-09-22T15:04:30.183-04:00Two point oh...or what is this supposed to be anyway?<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Qulf8RcLc-EaOjPoWDtUf95t0aEicvqPwtMoeWLzB7ehyce75cCtwlEwG8WhzS06KJ8dZymUQOmSUgu3V71a6F4awSvGLBI86j_LtHP62_W50UXy_os5hKdyQcsxK3HFu83R7wvjqHwv/s2048/theputnampost_banner_cassette_ALT-hires.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1300" data-original-width="2048" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Qulf8RcLc-EaOjPoWDtUf95t0aEicvqPwtMoeWLzB7ehyce75cCtwlEwG8WhzS06KJ8dZymUQOmSUgu3V71a6F4awSvGLBI86j_LtHP62_W50UXy_os5hKdyQcsxK3HFu83R7wvjqHwv/w400-h254/theputnampost_banner_cassette_ALT-hires.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>--</div><div>For starters, this is the resurrection of a long-defunct piece of internet property left to gather dust somewhere deep in the woods off a lonely exit on an information super highway to nowhere. But to take our gaze off the rearview mirror and focus on the road ahead, it is a repurposing of this space with an eye toward talking about and sharing music. </div><div><br /></div><div>I like music. </div><div><br /></div><div>Granted, merely liking music does not necessarily qualify someone to write knowledgeably about it, and one more dude rambling on about it certainly doesn't fill any significant void out there. Plenty of people like music. Plenty of people do music criticism (or whatever you want to call it). But folks, music is a fucking firehose these days. On the supply side, the barriers to making it -- and especially sharing it -- are to some degree minimal (or comparatively minimal anyway). And on the demand side, man, it is all mostly right there at your finger tips. All of it. </div><div><br /></div><div>All of it. </div><div><br /></div><div>And that's a lot. That's a lot if your quest is, like mine, to find not only good music but challenging music as well. We're not lacking in either of those either. So in the end, one is faced with the task of finding and building trust in curators, curators who take that torrent of tunes and turn it into something more manageable.</div><div><br /></div><div>So what, Putnam, you think <i>you're</i> one of those curators? Honestly, I don't know. Take a look to the right and see for yourself. If you're looking for examples of what I'm typically listening to, then the near-daily <b><i>Musical interludes</i></b> -- snippets of which you can find in our <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/josh.putnam/">Instagram stories</a></b> or full versions on our <b><a href="https://twitter.com/theputnampost">Twitter feed</a></b> (or right here in the sidebar!) -- are right there for the taking. </div><div><br /></div><div>That series of musical interludes started as a distraction, a coping mechanism in the early covid days. Then, it was a series with the aim of cobbling together music with some tenuous link to the feelings and realities of the times. On the one hand, that produced songs like "<b><i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwR0nL5596I">Panic</a></i></b>" by <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/anniehamiltn/">Annie Hamilton</a></b>, but on the other, something like, The Temptations' "<b><i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TYn_xGp-GWA">I Can't Get Next to You</a></i></b>." But that wasn't really sustainable long term, and the mission morphed into something broader, something akin to the "playlists" I build across any given year on Spotify. Those are less playlists than they are a home for the music that crosses my path in the course of a year. Often, but not always, it is new music. But occasionally it is something older that has popped onto or back onto my radar in some meaningful way. </div><div><br /></div><div>And more or less, that is a microcosm for what I envision populating this space: part talk of music centered mainly on short form pieces (250 words or less) about new albums, EPs or singles that are worth a listen, part longer pieces (500 plus words) on past records that got me to where I am listening to the music that I listen to now and maybe throw in a dash of chatter about shows that come to town if the spirit moves me. </div><div><br /></div><div>Philosophically, I don't see much appetite out there for super long write ups on new stuff (and definitely at a time when most folks are gravitating to podcasts over the written word). If you are trying to be efficient about how you listen, then you want a keyword here or there to provide some clue about what you might be getting yourself into. If you're like me, you scroll through the new releases on Friday over coffee looking not for favorites -- there will always be some -- but for some nugget of information that makes you want to take a flyer on an album. Give me any small signal, any excuse to listen. That's part of what I'm trying to do here. </div><div><br /></div><div>So personally, although "-wave" is to music sub-genres what "-gate" is to political scandals, I'll usually fall prey to a -wave whether it is new or vapor or whatever. Nothing quite gets me on those Fridays like an album having the shoegaze moniker hung on it in a blurb. I'm almost as much of a sucker for that as am for cryptic social media messages from <b><a href="https://www.autolux.net">Autolux</a></b> promising new material. [Yes, it is coming soon, but not as soon as you think. And for the record, Autolux only releases new albums in years when Republicans do well at the ballot box. True story. No, that isn't their intention.] </div><div><br /></div><div>That isn't an exhaustive list of keywords that I look for; just examples. While I gravitate toward music that falls under the broad banner of indie rock, my tastes are more eclectic than that. I'm not above spending an afternoon on the beach listening to Americana/country/bluegrass in honor of <b><a href="https://merlefest.org">Merlefest</a></b>. I like my rap wonky and envelope pushing like <b><a href="https://twitter.com/shabazzpalaces">Shabazz Palaces</a></b>. I'm quick to spin McCoy Tyner's "<b><i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dSeLrMwkNRM">African Village</a></i></b>," but can and do gamble on jazz picks. And the pandemic has pushed me more and more toward ambient stuff. [I don't know that I'd call that new Tim Hecker score, <b><a href="https://timhecker.bandcamp.com/album/the-north-water-original-score">The North Water</a></b>, ambient, but I don't know that I wouldn't either. Regardless, it is a solid escape.]</div><div><br /></div><div>Ultimately, what I'm looking for and what I'm likely to share in this space is, well, grant me an aside of sorts in closing. </div><div><br /></div><div>Time-Life once, a long time ago, had a multi-part series on the <b><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_History_of_Rock_%27n%27_Roll">history of rock 'n' roll</a></b>. Boy did I eat that up. It was a nice but certainly not comprehensive chronological look at the evolution of rock music in the 20th century. David Bowie -- it's always Bowie! -- popped up periodically in interview segments from the episodes covering the 60s forward. But it was in the installment focusing on the in-studio production aesthetics of the 70s where he said something that both struck me and has stuck with me, serving as a kind of guiding light with respect to the sort of music I often find myself listening to, no, searching out. Talking about the introduction of synths to the music-making process Bowie said (and I'm paraphrasing here): </div><div><i><blockquote>We (he and Brian Eno because this was during the recording of the Berlin trilogy) had these things and they could bring all these interesting sounds into what we were doing. But we found ourselves breaking the machines down and escaping the presets. We were more interested in the snaps and farts they could produce.</blockquote></i>And that's what this exercise is about to me: the snaps and farts in music. That is where the real fun is anyway. Those quirks that continuously push music forward. Here's to the snaps and farts! </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">--</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For more, follow The Putnam Post on <b><a href="https://www.instagram.com/josh.putnam/">Instagram</a></b> and <b><a href="https://twitter.com/theputnampost">Twitter</a></b>.</span></p></div>Josh Putnamhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06301836432446874997noreply@blogger.com0