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

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