featuring performances by:
A.C. Newman
Will Sheff of Okkervil River
Ted Leo
Doug Gillard
Charles Bissell of the Wrens
Jennifer O'Connor
Home Blitz
Beth Wawerna of Bird of Youth
Tim Thomas of Babe the Blue Ox
Kleenex Girl Wonder
BELLS with Matt LeMay
Tiger Dare
Plus readings by Matthew Perpetua, Jon Solomon, Greg Milner, and more.
The Lawrence brothers were still teenagers in the London suburb of Surrey when they released their first single "Offline Dexterity" in 2010. A string of remixes and the four song Face EP followed, with each successive release showcasing the brother's uncanny ability to tap into the mainstream currents of modern electronic dance music. The first single from Disclosure's debut record, "Latch", had already reached top 20 status in the UK months before the June stateside release of Settle. Hype was beginning to turn into mania in the EDM world. While the coincidental release of Daft Punk's new opus Random Access Memories blunted some buzz here in the U.S., Settle has (ahem) settled in nicely as the current number one download on itunes.
The first U.S. single "When A Fire Starts To Burn" revolves, weaves, and flutters around a motivational speaker's plea "When a fire starts to burn, and it starts to spread, she gonna bring that attitude home". It's very reminiscent of the work on Dan Snaith's Jialong project Daphni, where he sampled heavily from 70's West African rock songs. The song is fairly monotonous, but signifies a progression from the comfort zone of Disclosure's earlier candy-coated club songs. The Lawrence brothers are keenly aware that the proliferation of EDM into the mainstream is dependent on tracks with professional singers and a good deal of the record features vocals from the likes of Sam Smith, AlunaGeorge, James Woon, and Jessie Ware. Settle finds Disclosure falling back on some generic beats and samples but the innate talent here is undeniable. In a recent interview, after their 2nd U.S. show, the brothers said that the only time they fight it's usually about food. Let's hope that there's plenty of steak and lobster waiting for them in future backstage dressing rooms, because they're bound for A-list treatment.
Buy this record if you need to find faith in a future generation.
Here comes another crew of long-haired Hesher types from Philly. Is anyone from Philly anymore? You used to go there and you'd never run into someone who wasn't from Philly. Now everyone you meet there is from somewhere exotic like Wichita, Kansas or Milton, Delaware. They all want you to try out this great new restaurant in West Philly, but all you can think about is bombs being dropped down someone's chimney. Then you remember that Hall & Oates used to have long hair just like Kurt Vile. Kurt Vile is another homegrown Philly talent and the person responsible for spreading the Purling Hiss gospel. The Hiss play guitar-centric rock that is unrefined, unprocessed, and unfettered. What began as a one-man project, Mike Polizze recording blues-inspired, static-charged bursts of sonic grandeur on a 4-track, has grown into a (dare I say) semi-polished power trio. Polizze's music is a convergence of Dinosaur Jr. and Crazy Horse, yet despite the fuzzed and distorted guitar sounds, he seems to have a bit of the folk songwriter's soul in him.
Call me crazy but, after the smoke rings clear and the psychedelic squeals have dissipated, I can envision Purling Hiss playing a twilight set on stage at the Philadelphia Folk Festival, the next generation of Heshers nodding intently as they search the parking lot for fresh cigarette butts.
Buy this record during those late night runs to Wawa for 6" turkey/cranberry shorties, Tasty Klairs, & Rosenbergers Ice Tea.
Another sparse, emotionally revealing effort from Alabama cum NYC cum Philly native Katie Crutchfield. Katie's guitar playing is simple, alternating between acoustic ballads and distorted three-chord punk arrangements, often recalling Guided By Voices. Her vocals alternatively recall Jeff Mangum, Alanis Morissette, and Mirah. Katie took umbrage with her own statement in a NY Times article in which she said that she doesn't identify herself as "punk", that labels in general stifle self-expression, but you can confidently apply the terms DIY and Riot grrrl to Waxahatchee's Cerulean Salt.
Buy this record if salt in the wound is a salve for the soul.
Terry Reid will go down in infamy as the guy who turned down an offer from then Yardbird's guitarist Jimmy Page to front a new version of the Yardbirds, a band that would soon become Led Zeppelin. Always the gentleman, Terry politely declined and recommended a young Birmingham singer named Robert Plant instead. Terry was also considered for the lead vocalist role with Deep Purple but lost out on that as well. Coulda Shoulda and Woulda's aside, Terry Reid has led a revered musical career. He's done supporting tours with the likes of Fleetwood Mac, Cream and The Rolling Stones and has had his songs covered by The Hollies, Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, REO Speedwagon, and Cheap Trick.
Reid's trademark has always been his powerful voice, his Superlungs, a soulful, piercing instrument that bears a good resemblance to Steve Marriot's (Small Faces, Humble Pie) unrestrained belting, equally effective on tender ballads or breezy pop songs. "Funny How Time Slips Away" is the perfect amalgam of Reid's allure: understated doo-wop style vocals with inflected vocal accents that evolve into extended multi-octave runs, all over a sublime musical accompaniment of Hammond organ, xylophone, and horns. This is pretty much the definition of the perfect timeless song. Terry Reid is pretty much the definition of a supreme singer.
Buy this record if you imagine this is what you sound like singing in the shower.
There is a reason radio personalities are behind microphones, not a television camera. There's a reason baseball managers are in the dugout and not on the field playing. And there is a good reason DJs are behind the turntables and not in front of the mic: their voices are terrible. SBTRKT fits this category. A lot of successful recording DJs are realizing that they need competent vocalists to attain crossover appeal to a mainstream audience, but most can't afford to take them on the road with them. It's painful listening to this set.
Buy this record when the Panda-faced ear muffs your wearing start speaking in tongues.
Foxygen lead a fun-house tour into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame where lines dividing sincerity and parody are constantly blurred. Its often hard to tell if you should applaud the songwriting, the hooks, or the simple
fact that this band crams an intense amount of 60s influences into any
one song: here's a Dylan vocal, there's a Rolling Stones verse, here's a
Pink Floyd breakdown followed by a Kinks chorus. This is the
traditional rock equivalent of a Girl Talk mash-up. It's a refreshing journey through the pantheon or rock.
Buy this record if your ipad has an acid flashback.
