Tag Archives: music

Concert Review: Whitechapel at Mr. Smalls Theatre, Millvale, PA (Oct. 28)

Don’t you hate it when the band you leave the house to see isn’t the headliner? 

You pay for the bigger act just to catch a shorter set with second rate set design and a crowd with only half its heart into it. But despite all those inherent drawbacks, Knoxville quintet Whitechapel played a tight and versatile supporting set at Mr. Smalls Theatre on Monday that was as formidable as it was sincere, featuring a good portion of the band’s career-best seventh album The Valley. Continue reading Concert Review: Whitechapel at Mr. Smalls Theatre, Millvale, PA (Oct. 28)

Mark Kozelek teams up with Petra Haden and wistfully drifts through decades of memories and deep-rooted friendships on Joey Always Smiled

Photo courtesy of Caldo Verde Records

Joey Always Smiled, Mark Kozelek’s spiritual follow-up to his compellingly mellow self-titled release last year, finds the singer-songwriter reminiscing about formative adolescent memories and contrasting them with his more recent activities. Like listening to a folk rock radio station, the narratives Kozelek includes on this album, announced way back in February, span the 70s, 80s, 90s and today during the collab’s hour-plus runtime, as he deciphers which people and events most shaped the journey to his present self. Continue reading Mark Kozelek teams up with Petra Haden and wistfully drifts through decades of memories and deep-rooted friendships on Joey Always Smiled

On his latest offering, Groove Denied, Stephen Malkmus dives into electronic rock of yesteryear while never entirely shaking his indie rock roots

Photo from Matador Records

Stephen Malkmus’ signature brand of abstract and non sequitur lyrics can most often be found floating over the instrumentals of Pavement and his own band, The Jicks. Raucous guitars and bombastic drums match his frenetic singing and shrieking crescendos, shirking any notions of predictability.

But on Groove Denied, his long awaited stab at electronic music, Malkmus allows synthesizers, drum machines and loops to bubble to the surface. Over a well-paced 33 minute runtime, Malkmus explores the different eras of electronic music and plugs his own charisma into the digital landscape. Continue reading On his latest offering, Groove Denied, Stephen Malkmus dives into electronic rock of yesteryear while never entirely shaking his indie rock roots

Mark Kozelek’s societal frustrations boil over on Sun Kil Moon’s ‘I Also Want to Die in New Orleans,’ his latest musical journal entry

Photo from Caldo Verde Records

For the better half of the past decade, singer Mark Kozelek has refined a style of songwriting that marries folksy guitar-swirled instrumentation with poetic, often painful lyricism.

After releasing two sharply personal records last year, a self-titled under his own name and This Is My Dinner with his band Sun Kil Moon, Kozelek emerges for the first time in 2019 to meditate on his blessings and concerns throughout Sun Kil Moon’s tenth and most politically-charged album I Also Want to Die in New Orleans. Continue reading Mark Kozelek’s societal frustrations boil over on Sun Kil Moon’s ‘I Also Want to Die in New Orleans,’ his latest musical journal entry

Amplified Observations: New vinyl records, a luxury in college, sometimes worth the impulse

http://www.thepostathens.com/article/2017/02/vinyls-luxury-impulse

College students and luxury are often at ends. For everything wanted, there is something else needed.

As much as many of us consider music a need, some aspects of it unfortunately fall into the wide umbrella of want. And the best case to illustrate this problem is the internal debate of buying vinyl.

Undoubtedly, vinyl records have a certain charm and charisma attached to them. Hearing sound created when an intricate needle falls into their ridges not only looks cool, but will also give you credibility to guests who will “ooh” and “ahh” over the rare and magical sight.

But despite the spectacle, vinyl is inedible and will not propel a car to go forward nor pay the landlord. Coupled with the relative cost of records worth buying, people that have not started careers yet and find themselves weighed down by schoolwork rather than paid work hardly have the spare $20 for a new record.

Of course, with the possibility of used records, which nearly every record store carries, bargains come into play. A $3 Yes record might be plucked from the dusty back shelves with money left to buy accompanying beverages for the first spin on the turntable.

At the same time, bargains for well-known used albums usually trend in the opposite price direction. To buy a $60 press of Blonde on Blonde, Led Zeppelin’s IV or any post-1964 Beatles record is such a reckless indulgence on a college budget that a Spotify subscription almost seems like an objective responsibility. It’s cheaper, but not the same.

With the modern availability of music, any vinyl purchase over even $5 feels like an indulgence, an undeserving luxury that can be bypassed through other, more frugal methods.

Yet, like many material things, the authentic atmosphere that vinyl albums exude cannot be quantified in a given dollar amounts. The true nucleus of vinyl records’ likeability comes in the element of interactivity.

Clicking play on a computer is now such a mindless act with little significance, but taking a record out of its artistic gatefold, checking it for any scratches, adjusting the volume levels of speakers and watching the black, intelligent disc spin ad infinitum is something that can only be experienced firsthand. Not to mention, the carefully engineered and signal-processed bass reproduction sounds warm and feels unmatched in hearing it on anything else.

When buying vinyl, you don’t pay simply for the music like in the 1970s, you now pay for the process of exclusive enjoyment. Sometimes hearing the bleeps and bloops of Kraftwerk’s Autobahn is worth shelling out $30 on impulse. It all depends on where a limited amount of money means the most.

At some point in post-college financial stability, vinyl will most likely stop feeling like a luxury and more like a casual trip to the record shop. That day will both be welcomed and dreaded because it means the end of a certain sacred regard I hold for something that’s as simple as a grooved circle in a cardboard sleeve.

Luxury might become standard, but I suppose it’s all matter of perspective.

Amplified Observations: Music might soon require us to become listeners, readers and viewers at the same time

http://www.thepostathens.com/article/2017/02/music-combines-listening-viewing

Stephen King has hypothesized that his readers do not return to him for action but rather for a voice.

Artists, whether musical, visual or literary, function like a font that surfaces from underground streams of individualized and undiluted ideas. The clearest examples of these distinct voices also happen to be the easiest to name: Leonardo da Vinci, Vincent Van Gogh, Shakespeare, Richard Wagner, Bob Dylan, Jane Austen and Langston Hughes.

Despite some great artists focused solely only one type of artistic expression, others have expanded their voices into other mediums to present more comprehensive works that speak to the eyes, the ears and the psyche.

In 1849, Richard Wagner popularized a German aesthetic term called “Gesamtkunstwerk,” which translates to “total work of art” or “comprehensive artwork.” The phrase looked to blur the lines between different mediums and artistic tasks into one conceptual statement made up of all its parts.

The idea continues to float underneath the brim of pop culture with Jack-of-all-tradesmen like Phil Spector, Bob Dylan, who paired his music with his paintings, and David Bowie, whose final work Blackstar included an off-Broadway play titled “Lazarus” after one of the album’s songs. In every way, Bowie’s last release followed the carte blanche, combinative tradition Wagner pioneered in his operas.

In the present age of digital storage, more and more artists have released visual compositions about the creation of their albums or as a companion piece, such as artists like NothingMGMT and recently Flying Lotus. Musicians are no longer one-dimensional in their expression, and technology has facilitated their access to honing and mastering mediums other than their primary one.

Perhaps the two releases that have most mirrored Wagner’s method are Frank Ocean’s Blonde and Beyoncé’s Lemonade. Both 2016 albums arrived with visual stories interlinked with the music rather than added as an extra feature. At the same time, Ocean also published a magazine called “Boys Don’t Cry” featuring an explanatory project details and a silly, witty poem by Kanye West. 

Regardless of the quality of the albums, their use of mixed media, including print, is unprecedented in their professionalism and personally-crafted sheen. But full-length album films are not the only way to expand on an album’s meaning. Artists include things in releases that are often overlooked.

On my wall hangs a poster that came with the vinyl for Archy Marshall’s moody hip-hop album A New Place 2 Drown. Although the poster is only made up of different patterns of black and white lines and the album’s name, it provides another object to contemplate the deeper feelings behind abstract sounds. It gives the album a visual backdrop.

Prior to dropping the group’s ninth album, A Moon Shaped Pool, Radiohead sent cryptic postcards to its mailing list complete with appropriately-paranoid lyrics and a painting related to the album.

A gesture as simple as a poster or postcard that differs from the album’s mandatory cover artwork can give listeners a better idea of which stream of human emotion the artist filled his or her canteen.

An artistic concept should not be confined to one area of expertise but rather allowed to flourish in many different forms. Artists are moving forward in releasing more comprehensive works from the viewpoint of music rather than the traditional mixed medium of film.

And as long as the voice remains strong and present throughout the work, the listeners, readers and viewers will always return for more. And more and more, those three separate labels of consumption apply to one person engaged with one work of art.

Amplified Observations: Musicians have written music to fit the seasons since the 18th century

http://www.thepostathens.com/article/2017/01/music-for-when-the-weather-changes

It is a dark and stormy night … and the needle creeps down onto the ridges of a Nick Drake or Jenny Hval record, setting the haunting ambiance for the long autumn hours ahead.

The temperature is cool but the warmth of the ceramic mug pressing against your palm makes shivering unlikely, except from the lonely and introspective notes and words that echo out of adjacent speakers. Everything seems to have fallen into place.

In times like these, music requires a certain amount of thanks. Not only do musicians reflect the emotions and trials of the human condition but also the surrounding world. Depending on taste, different weather and different seasons bring to mind songs that inexplicably fit, whether in a wrathful darkness like tonight or the cheerful sunlight of tomorrow.

Each of the four seasons and its distinct weather patterns call to mind the sonic equivalent left by artists who channel the lusciousness of summer to the bleakness of winter, the slow fade of autumn to the gentle rise of spring. Rain, wind, thunderstorms, cloudiness and sunshine have all found places in music’s atmosphere, and not always in unintentional ways.

Kurt Vile, one the present’s most creative rockers, described his first studio album Childish Prodigy as having “a fall kind of feel” in a 2009 interview with Tiny Mix Tapes. It’s hard to put a finger on what that means but at the same time the feeling seems almost obvious. My Morning Jacket, The Microphones and some Pacific Northwest bands embody this description, as well.

Likewise, a number of jazz standards evoke the impression of seasons not only in sound but also in title. “Spring Is Here,” “Summertime” and “Autumn Leaves” stand among the most popular standards with musicians from John Coltrane to Roger Williams to Frank Sinatra all taking advantage of the songs’ relatable reach. No one alive has not enjoyed the awakening of the springtime or the crunch of November footsteps.

However, other works are less intentional and seem to adopt a place on the calendar or the weatherman’s forecast by themselves.

Neutral Milk Hotel’s now-classic LP In the Aeroplane Over the Sea holds the most power in the dead cold of winter when its fiery melodies melts the ice that keeps the mind snowbound. Likewise, the swirling, spacey guitars of Explosions in the Sky and other post-rock also feels appropriate like colorful lights shining across the tundra. And for the darkest days of winter, a certain type of music from Norway might be fitting.

But when the weather breaks and thaws, the rain-filled afternoons of spring and the heat of summer call for another aura.

How many times have you heard the phrase “song of the summer”? Pop music is practically built around a season with a slew of hooks about summertime sadness, meeting someone in the summer, walking around in summertime clothes or having the summertime blues. Summer is undoubtedly the most commercialized season probably because it holds the greatest chance of love and happiness. Spring, on the other hand, builds up to the days of the June solstice, signifying awakening and rebirth.

And I suppose I cannot write about weather and seasonal music without mentioning Vivaldi’s “The Four Seasons” (Le quattro stagioni). Published in 1725, the composition illustrates length of time that his idea reaches into the past, revealing that the world around us is something we all share and experience.

The four seasons and their accompanying weather inspires art and music created to replicate their intangible, indescribable aspects. And when these works strike eardrums, it rings an internal chord that causes the mind to perceive an undercurrent of harmony, even in the heaviest rain.