Sacred Bones; 2014
I still remember my time as a stupid preteen, unfolding strange corners of the internet on a dial-up AOL browser. The sounds of that modem connecting were always unworldly to me in a deeply creepy way — the harsh clicks and bleeps, and the way they seemed to escalate in volume and intensity. I covered my ears on the regular. Continue reading
Welcome back to FoodJams, where I listen to things that sound delicious and then Mel bakes things on Mel Bakes Things. This edition is brought to you by The Presidents of the United States. Not the actual presidents, mind you. But could you imagine that line-up? It would have to be black metal, with Lincoln on bass, Taft on drums, Grant on guitar and Teddy Roosevelt as the shirtless leadman, all in full corpse paint. Oh, and Clinton on sax — it could work.
Woodsist; 2009
Welcome to volume two of the cross-blog collaboration between Black Porridge and Mel Bakes Things. The timing couldn’t be more perfect for this installment: it’s early August and that humidity is just starting to pop in and out of the air. It just makes you want to… well, loaf.
We went with Real Estate‘s “Suburban Beverage” this time around, which isn’t necessarily a stand-out track from the band’s 2009 debut, but definitely one of the more esoteric with a total of one lyric. I’ve always found the band to be pretty polarizing, but sometimes even a garage junkie like me is in the mood for a jam band without the solos. Picture the alt-bros, floating down some lazy river in North Carolina, alternating between cheap beer and clear soda. The sweaty buzz between the barometer and the bottom of a bottle. This is an album about the weather.
Paw Tracks; 2007
Let me explain: my girlfriend, Mel, has been on a bit of a hiatus from blogging. It’s been an especially tough last couple of months, but she’s ready to get back into the swing of baking things. (And I’m ready to get back into the swing of eating them.)
Having just dusted off my own blog, we figured this was a good chance to do a collaborative project, and that’s where “FoodJams” comes into play. I choose the music, Mel bakes the things. (Sorry Primus, no “Seas of Cheese” this time. Mel is not lactose-friendly.)
Polyvinyl; 2014
Three or four years ago, summer guitar pop songs were harder to come by, but they were always refreshingly different from the Great Chillwave Bubble of 2010. You have so many options to choose from these days, that it can hard to find a gem. Blah, blah, market saturation, you get the idea.
Thrill Jockey; 2014
It took a long while, but after years of treating the music of my Indonesian background as little more than a curiosity, I’ve finally started to see how great it can be. I no longer say words like “dangdut” or “kroncong” with a grimace. (Now it’s more of a beaming smirk.)
As far as Japanese noise experiments go, I’m pretty unversed. Appreciative, but unversed. But when OOIOO‘s new album dropped with the title Gamel — as in “gamelan,” the traditional Javanese percussion orchestral ensembles — my eyes lit up. To me, gamelan music is like the bagpipes of southeast Asia. Ugly and annoying, but a sacred link to the past, and a fixture at ceremonies where people wear too many layers of clothing for a tropical third-world country. No one listens to gamelan music by choice unless they’re smug assholes looking to make a point.
There is a time and a place for tin pan fuzz — that whiny, treble-icious guitar sound that pierces eardrums worse than a Billy Corgan vocal flourish.
And hardly anyone knows exactly when or where that is. The rumbling, gut-punching tone of low-end fuzz is common among psych rock acts wishing to prove their mettle against level-headedness (so, all of them) but when that effects pedal is still down going into the solo, it throws the balance of the tune out of whack. Continue reading
Air slicers confuse the hell out of me. They sound (fittingly) like someone playing a keyboard behind a comically large industrial fan turned to the “Bill Paxton Night Terror” setting.
ONE MONTH’S ABSENCE MEANS ONE MONTH’S ABSENCE’S WORTH OF LINK BARF. OLD: BARFED. NEW: BARFED. LET’S GET BARFIN’.
I recently sent a link to this track to an old friend of mine with the subject line “:O”. Coincidentally, that was the exact face I made when I stumbled across Gap Dream‘s recently unveiled track “Shine Your Love.” Continue reading
Black Porridge 