Arcade Fire – The Suburbs (Final August Edition…pt. 4)

I figured it be a great way to close the month and ring in the new one with another few lame talks on The Suburbs. Now, don’t get me wrong, the writing by me might be lame but the music is anything but, I promise. I could probably still hear it 100 times straight and I’d still hold it close and dear to me. It’s still the album I love with all of my heart and it hasn’t grown weary yet. I know, I’m lame but here are a few thoughts on two more amazing songs. (For the last time? Maybe, maybe not.)

The second half light feature follows a pretty heavy expectation: being just as good as your predecessor. And though the first half light is definitely one of the album’s many memorable moments, like the other second-parts on the other suites, it’s a livelier, more upbeat feel. Here the vocals are shared between a lower register for the female and the lead on top singing about how “Some people say we’ve already lost but they’re afraid to pay the cost.” There’s growth and expansion throughout the song, with the addition of more thumping drum machine, more tapping drum set, more syncopated cymbals and an impressive lead into the ensuing battle…


I heard “Suburban War” for the first time when I was in the shower and I couldn’t believe that it was actually happening. It was a Monday and I was in the middle of it all when I heard the explosion and the ensuing chaos. Naturally, through a few walls and shower-head, it was a bit muffled but my immediate reaction was, “Oh wow, what just happened?” This was way before I knew that the war had already been foreshadowed on the first song, how the same line about “grabbing your mom’s keys because ‘we’re leaving’” would be repeated and how in the end, “The music divides us into tribes. You choose your side…I’ll choose my side.” I love the simplicity of it and how everything can change in an instance, forever. It’s definitely when it first hit me that this was a special album – nothing’s changed since that day. – Bryan

Okkervil River - The Stage Names

This was what truly moved me back in 2007 – the album that I still recall as my utmost favorite from the entire last decade. It’s especially significant for a tremendous amount of personal reasons but beyond that, it’s definitely one of the most gripping albums I’ve ever come across. With the imagery of the above hand in mind, it’s like the bitter struggle we battle through in life and about wanting more and more. I saw Okkervil River at Austin City Limits in 2008 and it was a surreal experience, one that will always be one of my fondest memories.

One of the major themes of the album is the band’s love for film and television. So in asking for a hand to take hold of the scene, the band requests having full control of their lives; to be able to manipulate fate, or whatever it is, to our own benefit. Will Sheff sings about how, “She rises up like a yawn, grips my heart like a claw, splits apart like a jaw, like an eye” and how we’d all love to just take control. There’s peace in the song, in realizing that we can longingly dream and want a “Love that is innocent, of that old cynical, covetous, cancerous vibe…and a beauty that annihilates all life.” I mean, that couldn't possibly be a bad thing could it?


I love how through the first eight songs you go follow this winding story that always seems to lead to some kind of broken soul’s despair. After everything is said and done, on “John Allyn Smith Sails” all anyone wants to do is go home. “And I hear the others all whisper, ‘Come home.’ I'm sorry to go, I loved you all so…but this is the worst trip I've ever been on.” Like their previous albums, the characters in Okkervil River’s music aren’t always the most cunning and dashing heroes but instead, battered and beaten lovers that never seem to get their way. Eventually the closure comes with sincere endearment, through the interpolation of the great Beach Boys cover: “I've folded my heart in my head and I wanna go home.” I could always relate to something as emotionally captivating as The Stage Names and call me an emotional, heart-on-the-sleeve bum but damn it, when it’s this good, who cares? – Bryan

Radiohead – Amnesiac

The thing about Radiohead is that no matter which album you turn to, they’re all so incredibly rich and diverse. We could argue over which one is the best, over which one was truly their breakthrough one, and other super-pretentious subjects but I don’t think you could really say one is more diverse than the other. I remember falling in love with their ability at re-creating themselves with every new album and it’s still arguably, their strongest trait: musicianship. Listening to so much Björk has gotten me back into Radiohead and it’s found me really digging deep; it’s especially fun when you can dig back into the music you first fell in love with and find even more gems.

So I’m probably going really left-field with this choice but “Pulk/Pull Revolving Doors” is, in many ways, a microcosm of what Amnesiac is about. The album that really is Kid A Pt. 2 (they should’ve just made one massively superb album of 16 tracks of the best of each): it’s stunning, divisive and impeccable. I love how loud it is and after the shining melody on “Pyramid Song,” it’s a brisk change of pace. But still, it comes back to Thom Yorke’s haunting voice, singing about doors. As much as some like to hate, there is always a point to Radiohead’s lyrics and they’re all amazing. Here he sings about the doors opening in our lives but he warns, “There are doors that let you in and out but never open…but they are trapdoors…that you can’t come back from.” Then they end it all with a smashing amount of killer noise? Sweet.


And I remember getting a burned copy of this album as a gift the summer before my junior year and I wanted to immediately throw it away because I hated the girl that gave it to me. Plus, Kid A was the one that opened everything, so I wasn’t entirely stoked to hear something else just a year later. But I sucked on to the last two songs of the album like no others before it. “Like Spinning Plates” drive and outpour of reverb, atmospherics and those menacing keyboards was some kind of magic. Some kind of euphoria that exploded into your stream (“My body’s floating down the muddy river”) of consciousness and then, after an intense set of four minutes, you get the painstakingly gorgeousness of “Life in a Glasshouse.” I mean, are you serious? First of all, it starts with that open cymbal stomp and piano clank and it’s an evident style shift from the darkness of before - it’s jazzy, there’s clarinet, trumpet and trombone, and the dynamics are sublime. My descriptions are becoming worse and worse I fear but I completely get the gist of saying, “Well, of course I'd like to stay and chew the fat” but we must be honest at the same time, “Only, only, only…if someone is listening in.” – Bryan

Björk – Vespertine

And still, even though I was entirely ignorant to the strength there was here, I wish I could’ve recognized much sooner just how special Björk really is. One of the many things I love about music is how dynamic it really is and how people can go through different sets of passions for it. I think I like Björk a lot but it’s always great to talk to an even bigger fan so as to find a different view on it and also, to be humbled. And now I've recently gotten into a swoon for her music that has merely intensified with every passing listen. I heard Vespertine is her best one; emotions are often behind the best of the bests and she was definitely passionate during these sessions. It’s still fascinating reading her lyrics and falling for them, over and over: “This time I’m going to keep me all to myself (She loves him, she loves him) and he makes me want to hand myself over.”

Listening to “Aurora” now, its utter beauty continues to amaze. Her music has always been neatly categorized as something in the electronic field but Björk – like many other great artists – is too complicated to fit into any one category. Initially I hear the gorgeous choral arrangement, the harp in the background ("I wish to melt into you") and through the jagged beats and fuzz behind her, her voice always seems to rule soundwaves. Here’s an old video (can’t believe this is almost ten years old now) of her singing the song just a few months after its release:


I don’t even think that to this day, she gets the full praise she probably deserves. I mean, just please watch this amazing video to “Cocoon” and tell me how it’s not beautiful. And besides that, her story and scope is enormous on this one: she’s entirely unabashed, open and she’s sexually spectral. Sometimes I just sit and listen to her voice on headphones and catch all of the intricacies she’s pouring out. It also happens to have some of the most romantic words of the past decade, this block especially:

"He slides inside. Half awake, half asleep.
We faint back into sleephood…
When I wake up, the second time, in his arms
Gorgeousness…
He's still inside me."

- Bryan

Of Montreal - Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?

A lot of my posts are on-the-fly, almost random listenings that I just happen to play at the time. Often, I’ll go grab a record from the other room and blast it and write up a few words on it. But always – no matter how spontaneous it is – I try to make it somewhat decent. This album was the one that I guess you could say really made Of Montreal. They had already developed a strong repertoire before it but Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer? really cemented them as a band to be reckoned with. And why not, it was everything you could have hoped for in the early cold months of 2007.

You see, this was well before Radiohead’s album and before all the other monster albums of 2007. And although it came out in January, it continued to be remembered as one of the best albums of the year – listening to it now, it’s still spectacular. I was always partial to “Cato as a Pun” for its ever-so-blunt lyrics. Hissing Fauna… was a break-up album – a kiss-off to Kevin Barnes’ then-ex – and this song hit home. “And don’t say that I have changed…because, man, of course I have.” And in the end you just want to be left alone, “is that too much to ask?”


I would almost feel entirely mis-informed and almost, wrong, if I didn’t post about “The Past is a Grotesque Animal.” I know it’s probably the safe pick but it’s also that pick for a reason. A torrid, over-ten-minutes-long song that details a broken relationship that is nothing but despair and bitterness. “Throw it all in my face, I don’t care. Let’s just have some fun, let’s tear the shit apart” – the entire song is filled with one-liners. My personal and on-line signature was always, “things could be different but they’re not,” and eventually, he would repeat the line for good measure. It’s really one of the finest songs of the last decade and one of the most memorable, for me, for variously personal reasons (“I’m all, all unraveled. No matter where we are, we’re always touching by underground wires”) but it’s absolutely worth it, too. – Bryan

Björk – Post

A noticeable hater from the beginning, my love for Björk took a long time to flourish. Although I was generally encircled by fans of her music and she was time and again recommended to me, I in no way took a liking to any of her music. She was someone that I had to work through and it really wasn’t until 2004’s Medulla, that I finally began to appreciate her music and now, well, I love everything she’s done (minus Volta). So I was a late bloomer to what’s probably my favorite of hers, Post. Plus, somebody really cool reminded me about her and well, that’s where we’re at.

I love how “It’s Oh So Quiet” flexes back and forth in just about every aspect: loud to quiet in seconds, duple to triple meter switch on a dime, blending the jazz and rock she is fusing with the juxtaposition of strings vs. horns, her sudden jolts in the fashion of her screeching yells. And yet, for some people, those same aspects could be the kind of stuff that turns them away from such beauty. Beauty is definitely in the eye of the beholder and Björk is beautiful to me, here is the official video to this song, directed by Spike Jonze:


Later on in the album she gets intensely into the sci-fi space of the spectrum. If we ever wanted someone to communicate aliens, I’d always assume it be Björk to represent us. It’s about the indifference and ‘in limbo’ feeling we have when trying to decipher our feelings. Some consider it games and others live their lives this way but in the end, we all want love in our lives. I love how she sings, “As much as I definitely enjoy solitude, I wouldn’t mind, perhaps, spending a little time with you…sometimes, sometimes” and then later demanding, “Where’s that love you promised me?” Ouch…so anyway, I think this music is awesome, hope you do, too. – Bryan

Arcade Fire - The Suburbs (Pt. 3)

One of the very first things that really sucked me in to this album was its diversity. I don’t think that any of the songs sound like any of the other songs on the album – I hope that makes sense. But on a song by song level, they all sound so dissimilar from each other and yet, they paint this cohesively illustrious picture. Here's a couple more to check out. (if anyone is actually listening to this stuff, please let me know.)

This one is “Modern Man,” which is, essentially, about living in a world where everything is losing meaning, where nothing seems to make sense and where you just kind of sit there, stagnant, against the current. He sings about breaking the mirror and changing the cycle and how it all “Makes me [him] feel like, like something don't feel right.” The connections are everywhere, with the best lines coming when he’s offering the youngsters advice: “Maybe when you're older you will understand why you don't feel right…why you can't sleep at night now.”


I made a copy of this album for my mom and she’s been avidly listening to it. She’s even called me a few different times while in her car and I hear various different moments playing in the background. She mentioned a song about living in a city with no children and then said, “But the one after it, the one with that awesome sound in the beginning? Well, I love that one so much.” For me, it’s even something that she can listen to it but love a song off it? Here is that song, “Half Light I,” singing about “hiding the ocean in a shell,” and I won’t ruin it by saying too much, expect that it’s absolutely gorgeous: - Bryan

Black Sabbath - Paranoid

I’m definitely not a metal guy and I definitely have a hard time finding music that I actually enjoy from that genre. But I’ve always been a firm believer in finding the ‘classics’ – the so-called ‘greatest albums of all time’ – and finding a way to love them, if not appreciate them at least. So when I finally came across an overpriced vinyl copy of this album – which is in much worse condition than I had originally thought – I immediately jumped on it. Still not a metal fan, or even much of an overall Ozzy fan but Paranoid most definitely changed the game in heavy rock/metal music and this album, is still a great one.

One of the things I liked about it when I first heard it years back was how there were these massive hits and then other blissful, not-that-well-known, doozies. “Black Caravan” always stood out for its heady, Pink Floyd-like transcendence. After the crazy opener and before the explosive big-namer, the band took a break for a breezy, Latin-infused, almost jazzy experience with this song. I like the YouTube comment: “It doesn’t even sound like Ozzy” but maybe and especially in this scenario, diversity was key.


And regardless of where your tastes lie, these were some awesome musicians back in their days. Bill Ward’s soloing on “Rat Salad” is still a genuine showcase of skillful musicianship; instead of blasting our ears off for the whole album Ward eases in and out of his solos with sublime results, while Tony Iommi riffs in between. The latter’s solo work is downright marvelous on the aforementioned song, too. – Bryan

Stan Getz - Sweet Rain

OK seriously though, before I saw Nick’s post I had earlier today played the first part of Sweet Rain here at home. Lately, I’ve been wanting to really try and strengthen whatever chops I have in jazz to be somewhat on par with some of my other favorite genres. I still consider jazz to be the best of the best and easily, the music I would select if I only had one choice. And get this for a line-up on this album: Stan Getz on tenor, Chick Corea on piano, Grady Tate on drums and Ron Carter on bass.

This has to be one of Getz’ best albums, a definite classic in my book and that’s on any scale, jazz or all. This was after Getz had finally surpassed his bossa nova stylings and during a time where he was just ready to start coming out of his shell into the superb master craftsmen he was. Corea’s piano is sparse enough to allow Getz to get creative and even with two of Corea’s songs appearing from the five selected, Getz is still the driving force. “Litha” sounds especially nice because it acts as a ruffling beginning to the swaying gentleness of the other four tracks. Getz stuns with his usual lyrical melodic brilliance but this time, he is fast-paced, intense and on the move, always. Still, it’s absolutely stunning - if you want to hear why some even think he is better than Coltrane, check this one out:


None of the other three songs I wanted to pick were available so here is the cover they do of Antonio Carlos Jobim’s “O Grande Amor.” Actually, I think this is off another one of his albums but nonetheless, Getz still had that Brazilian flavor and Jobim’s song is a gorgeous one:
- Bryan

A Date with the Rain

Thought I might throw up a few musical selections for those of us in Chuco Town enjoying this rare occurrence called rain. Some selections are rain themed, while others just have the perfect vibe for these rainy days. Wherever you are though, rain or shine, I hope these tracks put you in that relaxed mood the rain always seems to get me in. PAZ -nick

Arcade Fire - The Suburbs (Again)

I love how this album has been able to grab my attention and keep it firmly held; and yet, in retrospect, I’ve held it close to my heart the entire time as well. It’s the first album since 2007 (tell you all about that album later) that I’ve fallen head over heels for and although I’ve battled against it with some other awesome stuff (I mean, come on, that Janelle Monáe video?) and still, it’s the one I come back to, every single time. So before you know it – and let me apologize beforehand – but I just might post about every single song when all is said is done.

Here is “Sprawl I (Flatland)”, a song that is devoted entirely to opening a broken teenager’s heart only to find a desolate soul. The song is the bridge between what might be the album’s smoothest transitions and at less than three minutes long, it lulls you into its darkness with fantastic results. Imagery is key here: the messages about driving endlessly into the sprawl, living on the buried nostalgia that should stay, well, buried, the darkness that contrasts against the lights in the reflectors, and recalling old memories with bitter distaste. My favorite part, easily, is where he admits that he finally has something of his own, something to give and then still ask what the point of it all really is:


One thing I wanted to really point out was how beautiful the band actually sounds on the album. For starters, it’s a huge band with various members and Owen Pallett even shows up to lend strings on here. At the core is Win Butler and Régine Chassagne’s vocals and how they always melt into each other; so much so, that even when they switch things up (when going from the aforementioned song into the previously posted about second part of the sprawl) it still sounds impeccably cohesive.

And so, I imagine the only logical step was to post the opener, the one that kicks it all of. Butler described the album as “a mix of Depeche Mode and Neil Young” and those influences are definitely all over The Suburbs. A lot of it reminds me of what Dylan sounded like when he was recording music for Wonder Boys but this song is the epitome of what this gorgeous album is made of. Check out the somber lyrics about trying to understand why someone would want a daughter at a young age and how it hit homes, harder, for some.
- Bryan

Janelle Monáe - “Cold War

I hate completely covering up my previous post from the spotlight but please watch Janelle’s Monáe’s official video for “Cold War.” It’s beautiful, her voice is beautiful, her words are beautiful, she’s beautiful, what more could you ask for? Oh yeah, watch in full screen please and just watch all of it without changing it.


(Love how at the 1:38 she says “I’m gonna cry!”) – Bryan

The Avalanches - Since I Left You

Back in 2000 – back when music was still fresh with the release of Kid A – there were also The Avalanches, an electronic group with a great ear for samples. They were DJs that were known for their fantastic live sets and now, with Since I Left You. Through all of its songs, it propels forward with the use of various samples the group were able to find. It’s striking to hear such blends, especially when it’s all so seamless.

On “Flight Tonight” they opted to add Prince Paul and De La Soul and blend it with samples from the film Car Wash, Sylvester and Billy Boyo. It’s the moment on the album where they rival the smooth fusions of before with gritty, rocking vibes in the sense of Chemical Brothers. But the segue into “Close to You” is where the ease of it all comes stunningly to display. Besides the gorgeous Nancy Wilson and Isley Brothers samples, here they grab The Moog Machine and “Stool Pigeon” by Kid Creole and the Coconuts. I’m posting both songs here so you can sort of grasp the all-encompassing scope they were reaching, both rule:




A lot of the album’s release problems arose with the use of so many samples and having to get permission to use all of them. Make no doubt about it, Since I Left You is so beautifully crafted that it all sounds like a brand new album of awesome electronic music but yes, these samples are to die for. The largest proponent was the use of one particular Madonna song, "Holiday," like they did with “Little Journey;” the Towa Tei song, “Higher,” sounds especially lively but it’s “Holiday” that’s most remembered. And it’s even used before on the album’s second song, “Stay Another Season,” along with truly awesome samples from Yma Sumac and Sergio Mendes and Brasil ’66:

- Bryan

Antonio Carlos Jobim - Wave

When you’re known for and heralded as the person who created the bossa nova style of music then you’re definitely someone significant. Long before Brazilian music was catching on Antonio Carlos Jobim was creating lush, ornate land-scapes of the beautiful country he was from. Wave was one of those first albums from the 60s that I really connected with, an album that was as pretty as it was masterful. It’s easily his most successful album to date and the House Mouse lady has a vinyl copy of this that is the same design but in red, like this:

I’ve always wanted to grab it because it is one my favorite albums but that’d be selfish of me, no? Anyway, I just got my vinyl copy of the new Arcade Fire album so I’m probably gonna be playing that non-stop for another week – which means I had to write about this other brilliant album since it was still in my deck. Think of your traditional Brazilian bossa nova but with an orchestration that features Ron Carter as your bassist and the only wind instruments are some lovely flutes & piccolo, trombones and one French horn. Sure, there’s a ton of strings on top, too, but listening to how fresh and smooth it all sounds on “Batidinha” makes Brazil sound so majestic.


Every single song is really special; “Lamento” is his only vocal and it’s definitely terrific. While every song is based on something from his life in Brazil, “Mojave” was written with our very own Mojave Desert in mind. French horns and Jobim’s piano battle for the melody with the bellowing of the strings always rustling underneath them; the light flute on top is a delicate touch but one that signals the cold winds in the desert at night, check it here:


- Bryan

Arcade Fire – The Suburbs

I wasn’t expecting something like this, I really wasn’t. And trust me, I know that it's’ super lame of me to be discussing an album that is probably already starting to hit overdrive but come on, this is just too good. I was in a ‘love at first then hate afterwards’ kind of relationship with Arcade Fire and when Neon Bible came out, I was definitely feeling good about their music. It took me a good two years after that to finally come around to Funeral, again, and now, there’s The Suburbs.

For starters, it’s spectacular. It’s an album that latches on to you and pulls you around its every corner. And for me, it was something that hit me like no other, and I wasn’t even expecting it. Their sounds are much more diverse on this album, some would call it sprawling and yet, they still sound personally identifiable. Some stuff revels in the Springsteen stuff of the past, other stuff is like the best of U2 and R.E.M.; they’re like Talking Heads in the way everyone contributes (female and male vocals, string instruments, synths) and like the great music of the 80s and 90s meshed together.

Here is “Rococo” which will surely melt your heart away. The pace is subdued and the focus lies on the harmonies and the vocals singing the chorus together. The enunciation is the best but it all stunningly hits you:


“Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)” is like Blondie of the 80s, with her synths dancing around her. The female vocals take over and you get a penultimate song that leaves you in awe. It’s like your looking over the hill on to better things and seeing the sun burst through is given you some peace of mind. It’s a heavenly good sound and a beautiful way to close it all out. Check it here:


-Bryan