It Might Get Loud...

Rock on, brothers, rock on.

I have rarely been as energized, thrilled, or completley pumped by a movie as I was by Davis Guggenheim's It Might Get Loud. A documentary of a "summit" between Jimmy Page, The Edge, and Jack White - three dudes talking about the electric guitar. Telling their personal stories, along with understanding their artistry and relationship to the instrument, the film was a delight in every way.

You can read my full review of It Might Get Loud over at Blogcritics.

The film opens in New York and LA August 14th, and nationwide shortly thereafter. Go. Just go.

It Might Get Loud - the Official Site

Katie Herzig - NPR Song of the Day

A new Song of the Day essay up today! I love this girl - such a beautiful voice, and really catchy songwriting.

Katie Herzig: A Farewell To Past Love

Jones Street Station

Jones Street Station - my new boys! Saw them at the 9:30 Club (check out the Blogcritics review), and then my favorite song gets to be a song of the day.

Jones Street Station: Sunlight In The Sadness

Song of the Day - Alice Russell "Lights Went Out"

Song of the Day from today - a pretty kick-butt album, if I do say so, from Alice Russell. Soulful and powerful, her touch is more interesting than some similar artists with really decent songwriting.

Take a listen and a read at NPR.

Oh, and by the way - she'll be at The Bohemian Caverns in DC on March 5th. Might be a show worth catching.

Song of the Day - Run On Sentence "Old Stonewall"

Another song of the day up today, with a new favorite on my playlists, Run On Sentence. It's a really nice blend of folksy songwriting and instrumental chops without any of the whinyness that can sometimes result.

Here's just a little taste:

In "Stonewall," Hamman takes his sharp-edged croon for a lumbering, jazzy stroll. The song finds him ambling along after Old Stonewall as he stumbles on his way: "Stonewall, I can't believe my eyes / I see you're still just hanging around / at the Red and Black Café / I got news for you, son, that ain't no YMCA."

You can read the rest of the review and take a listen over at NPR.org.

NPR - Run On Sentence: A Lumbering Stroll

Andrew Bird - 'Noble Beast' preview on NPR

It's one of those things about people knowing you're a violinist, that anything vaguely having to do with violin should automatically be your favorite. "Man, you should TOTALLY listen to Bond! Those girls play violin, right?"

I'd also heard quite a bit about Andrew Bird, but hadn't had a chance to listen for myself to see if this was a listen-by-association or a real deal...but NPR solved my problem by putting his new album up for free preview.

Yes, that's right, listen to the whole thing for free. NPR - I hate you for firing my friends, but you do still have good ideas sometime. Rah rah rah digital media!

From my first blush listen, this is an album with much to recommend it beyond his unusual instrumentation. It vacillates between an indie-spaciness and rooted folkyness, listenable and sweet. "Natural Disaster" is my favorite of this second, the pointillist layers of banjo, violin, and vibraphone backing Birds slightly muffled tenor.

Go. Listen.

We Landed On the Moon - Dahlak, DC

My band had a gig last night at Dahlak - a small Ethiopian restaurant in DC. Though it wasn't much of a rager for us (thanks to those stalwart few who made it out), the real party in the house came from the visiting band from Baton Rouge - We Landed On the Moon.

These guys tore the place down - straight ahead rock with terribly catchy riffs and a tangible sense of joy. The small space made it hard to hear every nuance, so I'll be writing more about them soon once I give their new album a close listen, but a heads up is a place to start.

Go listen. Be happy.

Time for Three - NPR Song of the Day

I first saw Time for Three in DC a few years ago at Dumbarton Oaks. It was my first time at the venue, and it was hard to not just sit and stare at the elaborately painted ceiling and gorgeous tapestries. It was a small crowd, and my friend Margaret and I were probably the youngest there by about two decades - until the performers came in.

Violinists Zachary DePue and Nicolas Kendall and bassist Ranaan Meyer stood casually in front of the large fireplace. The lights were dim, and so cast the faces of the performers in shadow. Kendall was a bouncing ball of energy, keeping up a light patter in between songs, while DuPue stood more quietly, hands still on his instrument. Meyer drew my attention time and time again, looking like a lanky, looming vulture as he draped over his bass, his whole body drawing the music from the lumbering instrument.

They have so much fun when they play, it is impossible not to get drawn in. Renditions of classical favorites (especially the Bach Double concerto) were favorites, though their version of Shenandoah made my eyes mist. They approach a blend of bluegrass and jazz with a classical sense of control and thoughtfulness, making me wish I had discovered something like this when I was in school.

I was so excited to see a few weeks ago that they would be releasing a new single every month through their website. "Philly Phunk" was the first - you can listen to it and read my essay over at NPR's Song of the Day.

I highly recommend their album, We Just Burned This For You. Recorded live in 2006, you get a sense both of their stage presence and wonderful banter.

Monkey Majik on NPR

Fusing Languages, Countries and Sounds

NPR.org, February 8, 2007 · The Japanese pop group Monkey Majik stands out in a crowd of its peers, and not just for its clever songwriting, its fusion of pop and hip-hop, and its rapid rise to overseas popularity in the wake of a few highly lauded independent releases. The band is also led by white Canadian brothers Blaise and Maynard Plant, who went to Japan to teach English and ended up sticking around, writing songs and performing with drummer Takuya Kikuchi and bassist Hideki.

Thank You" expresses gratitude for family and friends far away — an understandable sentiment for two people so far from their home. It's listenable and engaging, and while the "hybrid" label that Monkey Majik carries around doesn't necessarily extend far beyond its demographics, that does bring to mind its songs' most striking element: their fusing of languages.

Listening to the Plants in interviews, it's clear that these guys fluently and fluidly flow from one tongue to the other, with no reason to allow for breaks or barriers. The song's celebration of Japan — "I love it so much, I don't think I could ever leave / I've made it my own and, yeah, it's home" — makes it clear that they're not mixing languages simply for shtick, but instead making the effort to be a part of everything. The result is a true hybrid whole: a new species, with equal balances of cultural genetics, all tied up with a catchy tune and sweet sentiments. "Thank You" represents who they are and where they are, and not just what they're saying.

Go here to see article and listen to track

Mira Mira - Midnight for You

The package that contained a press kit and this album by Chicago-based Mira Mira also included a note from songwriter and pianist Charlie Williams. It said, among other things – "I'm excited to share this album with you – it's best heard, I think, on the 5th listen." It could have been playful hyperbole… but I was intrigued. So I took it to heart and listened to the whole album the prescribed five times.

On first listen, it's an odd conglomeration of songs. Perky exultations to Atlas merge into meandering instrumental movements. A line or two erupts with expletive force from the webs of sounds and sound sources – echoed piano lines, vaguely organic computerized strains, and the untrained but heartfelt vocals of Williams and others. It seemed somewhat simplistic at times, others, bemusedly complicated.

But with each pass through, the classical training that Williams enjoyed… or endured… comes through in the sense of layering and textures that permeate the album. It's an orchestral dynamic, parts overlapping and intertwining, creating their own map of sound. The topography of the album becomes more evident with each listen – peaks and valleys of text, texture, emotion, empathy.

The title track, "Midnight for You" draws us into the valleys – a simple premise of love lost and gone far away, and a dynamically repetitive piano line. The layers of sound are painted watercolor style, each translucent to those underneath, giving way to a new shade, fading to a radio buzz of static remaining in the wash at the end. The instrumental "Nikita's Ghost" is creepily wonderful, strumming guitars moving with something like sirens, and voices appearing and disappearing in the murk.

There is catharsis in the listening. Each time draws you further into Mira Mira's emotive process, hearts like blood-red stains on the sleeve, and makes their ability to take pain and pleasure and make music of it your own as well. You say goodbye to the good, the bad, and the just gone, and feel it all just fade away with a final buzz into sonic darkness.

To hear more from Mira Mira, try their website or you can buy the album from CD Baby.

And see their mention in the Chicago Sun Times!

This review is also available at Blogcritics.org

Badi Assad - Song of the Day

"1,000 Mirrors" by Badi Assad, from her new disc Wonderland is today's NPR Song of the Day

Teitur

Review up on Blogcritics.org:

Music Review: Teitur - Stay Under the Stars

Written by Claire Marie Blaustein
Published December 12, 2006

I first saw Teitur (pronounced tie-tor), when he was touring with the Young Troubadours in 2004. I was struck with his soulful, puppy-dog eyed songs, describing perfect, fleeting moments with what I’m sure was an appropriately pretty, waif-like and hipster girl of his fancy.

Stay Under the Stars is pretty much more of the same – actually, a little too much of the same. I found myself drifting into personal fantasies of sleepy Sunday mornings, and the homogeneity of sound wouldn’t startle me out of it for three or four tracks in a row.

It’s incredibly sweet and poetic songwriting, and my fantasies were far more colorful for it. Teitur can always be relied upon to bring up these wonderful heartrending images, but one doesn’t turn to him, say, for an upbeat dance tune. It’s simply not what the windswept Faroe Islands native does.

But he does toss in a few to draw me from my comfortable lethargy – particularly a awesome and slightly bizarre cover of “Great Balls of Fire” which adds slightly seasick string arpeggios, rather than the burning sexuality of Jerry Lee Lewis. Then there’s “I run the Carousel” which is positively headbanging in it’s gritty guitarness, after the restfulness of the other songs. Then the moment passes, and I can return to my daydreaming. After all, according to the title track, he doesn’t want me to wake up, either.

Went to see the 18th St Singers in the National Gallery Rotunda today. It's a beautiful vaulted space, marble everywhere, decorated all out for christmas. And hearing a group of people singing christmas carols with the sound bouncing from column and column, with the audience sining along...a really blissful moment for me.

Sangam

There are certain musical moments that you witness, participate in, are connected to that just send you to the floor. This was one of those.

Charles Lloyd, Zakir Hussain, and Eric Harland came together to play at the Library of Congress on Tuesday, as Sangam - a tamil word meaning togetherness. Two established ledgends and one guy who can't help but become one, it was a spectacle, an event in the grandest sense.

The whole thing flowed organically, one tune to the next - obviously picking out songs would be impossible without a set list. But the forces grew and shrank, from solos, to duets, to trios and what felt like more as the set switched out for keys, and the tabla doubled as both percussion, melodic line, and the dead ringer sound for an upright bass.

These guys are impossible to take your eyes off of - Hussain must have a few extra fingers squirreled away, because everything you saw a flick of one finger, eight notes would emit from the drums. Harland too - moving as fast as he could to keep up in trading fours across the stage to the tabla, but making the whole thing a cacophony of sound with a flick of a stick.

And Lloyd - the granddaddy, the grandmaster, the grand wizard of the occasion. His playing is impressive, but more so the feeling that he sits at the nexus of this little musical universe of his own design, twitching a finger or a elbow or a knee to push the whole thing swinging in a new direction. His lanky awkwardness folds in on it self and expands back outwards again, bringing the music forth with sheer physical will.

It was a remarkable event...one that I'll remeber for a long long time.

NPR's Song of the Day

Bennie K - "Osaga"

Song of the Day

Amos Lee - Night Train

Amos Lee - Supply and Demand

New post on Blogcritics.org - Supply and Demand

NPR's Song of the Day

My first Song of the Day!

Feeling the Blues of the World

• 'Cigil' by Nuru Kane

Nuru Kane creates a musical journey that covers centuries, continents and many ways of thinking.

Friday's Pick

• Song: "Cigil"
• Artist: Nuru Kane
• CD: Sigil
• Genre: World

NPR.org, September 29, 2006 · Nuru Kane knows his way around the blues -- the deep, rich melancholy that extends beyond the emotional to become almost physical. But it manifests not in familiar stories of loss of home, lover and/or dog, but in the sound of blues farther from these shores. Kane arrives at his blues by way of Malian traditions, and blends it with his roots in Senegal, the traditions of the Gnawa people and his life in France to create the album Sigil. Playing guitar and the traditional Gumbiri three-stringed bass, he brings the legacy of that instrument in Africa and elsewhere together with more conventional influences to create a musical journey that covers centuries, continents and many ways of thinking.

"Cigil" is a traveling song, in that it saunters away from where it begins, sometimes doubling back on itself, sometimes charging ahead and sometimes settling where it is. The influence of the trance music of the Gnawa is there in the serpentine twisting of repeated rhythms and melodies. It feels like the turning of hips in a dance, smaller spirals that move in place or spin around the music in time. It shifts back and forth from a rustic acoustic sound to a sudden electrification of the Gumbiri, startling the listener from any head-bobbing that may have begun, before allowing the new change to become part of the tapestry. It could go on forever -- shifting and changing, developing with subtle new twists of texture or melody -- but it closes abruptly with a "se fini," practically begging for the replay.

Listen to yesterday's 'Song of the Day.'

Women and Songs 2

Latest post on Blogcritics.org:


Women and Songs 2



Yesh. I need some good music, and quick.