Singles Round-Up Supplemental:

Those Dancing Days - Run, Run
(Wichita)

Logic dictates I should begin writing about my feelings for Sweden’s Those Dancing Days by trying to place them within the impossibly diffuse context of late ‘00s left-of-centre pop music, by trying to reflect / account for / sneer at the impressive snowball of blog/media hype they’ve managed to accumulate, or even by stomping my way straight into a typically dur-brained analysis of what I believe they’re trying to achieve with their music and the extent to which I think they succeed, but…. for whatever reason, I find myself unable to get an angle on any of that. As soon as my contemplation of this band goes beyond rote approval of the initial concept (five girls making great, pure, self-taught pop music with drums and guitar and keyboard etc.), as soon as I hear their actual * music *, they seem to become a cipher….. there’s really nothing solid I can grab onto to anchor who this band are, where they’re going, what they mean to the world – they seem almost transparent, and I don’t want to try to recklessly leap aboard their cloud and fall straight through it, if you know what I mean.

Because you see, all I’m certain of at this stage is that Those Dancing Days make me unreasonably, inexplicably HAPPY in a quite profound sense.

Not happy like, say, falling in love, or cradling a newborn baby, or headlining the Fillmore East alongside Miles Davis in 1969, or even happy like getting totally lost within a random radio play of ‘Into The Groove’ or ‘Waterloo Sunset’ or ‘Born To Run’. No, they make me happy more like…. eating a really nice sandwich. Or seeing next door’s cat doing something really funny outside the kitchen window. Or it being sunny.

All of their songs are pretty fantastic, if quite similar. All of them have different takes on pretty much the same combo of soaring chorus melodies, killer instrumental hooks and beautifully natural rockin’ feeling. I love how their singer sounds entirely unlike you’d expect the singer in a band like this to sound. She’s got a lovely, smoky, classically “good” voice that your mum & dad would probably appreciate. She manages to invest every song with a kinda intangible, wistful nostalgic feeling, without ever detracting from the group’s dedication to making big, anthemic pop. This odd synthesis renders things warm and woozy, simultaneously comforting and exciting. It’s a good feeling!

Rejecting punk/rock n’ roll’s two minute dogma, Those Dancing Days also seem to adhere strictly to the idea that a proper song should always be somewhere in the region of three minutes twenty. Which is probably what your mum & dad would feel to be classic, optimum pop song length too, should you manage to provoke an opinion out of them on the subject. But no one of their songs thus far is really THE one. Many seem to feel “Hitten” is THE ONE, but I dunno… I mean, it’s good, but it’s not substantially better than their other ones. ‘Run Run’ and ‘Home Sweet Home’ on this single, for example, are both equally brilliant. The latter in particular is great, taking the band as close to a rough, wild-eyed garage sound as they’ve ever dared go, with way-out organ, manic drumming and an absolutely delightful Swedish “1!2!3!4!” count-in… thus relegating it to b-side status apparently – ho-hum. Clearly neither song is ever going to change the course of anyone’s life, but they’d doubtless make fine soundtracks for any life-changing stuff that happened to be going on at the time, and like I say – sandwiches, cats, sunshine.

I think Those Dancing Days are a brilliant radio band, essentially. I know this because I heard them for the first and second times on the radio, and it was brilliant, like hearing Fleetwood Mac or Roxy Music is brilliant, only HOMEMADE, and thus punk, like The Raincoats, or The Gories. Super-brilliant!

Will Those Dancing Days establish themselves as the greatest pop band of our era, or will they retreat into MOR predictability and overproduced Radio 2 blanditude? Does it really matter? Is there even a difference?

At the moment, answering questions like that seems akin to fretting over whether or not next door’s cat is gonna win the cat show.

Those Dancing Days are here, and they are good. Don’t ask why.

Mp3>
Home Sweet Home

http://www.myspace.com/thosedancingdays
http://www.wichita-recordings.com/

Labels: pop, singles reviews, Those Dancing Days

SINGLES ROUND-UP 2008:
PART TWO

The Lyres – Don’t Give It Up Now b/w How Do You Know?
(Dirty Water)

The Lyres were mainstays of the Boston punk/new wave/whatever scene at the dawn of the ‘80s and beyond, and I’ve been heavily into their track ‘I Want To Help You Ann’ on an old ‘Boston scene’ comp CD for a while now, so it was a blast to discover I could get my hands on this, the band’s first 7” from 1979, reissued through the record label auspices of London’s premier garage-rock true believers’ club night, Dirty Water.

And what a fucking brilliant single it is! Doing some reading up on the group, it seems that The Lyres gradually (d)evolved into a revolving door vehicle for frontman Jeff Conolly’s apparently unquenchable appetite for straight up Nuggets worship, but presented here in their original line-up, the band seem to be gunning for something altogether leaner and meaner than just drunkenly banging out ’96 Tears’ every night. Cutting a mean streak somewhere between the cooler end of early garage revivalism, tightly coiled post-punk dynamism and the Feelies/Clean continuum of post-VU drone-pop, they hit their bullseye straight off, working up proven rock n' roll elements in a cool and unconventional manner that just plain kicks ass. Guitarist Rick Carmel had a really distinctive, clean, tremolo-heavy sound, cutting through with sharp mod power-chords on the A and nervy Velvets rhythm on the B, sitting perfectly alongside Conolly’s minimal organ runs and vicious tambourine thwacks, all anchored by one of the best no-bullshit drummers that the factory that used to built great, anonymous no-bullshit drummers for punk bands ever produced.

Unusually for a late ‘70s act, The Lyres aim their material squarely at the dancefloor, with, in my hips opinion at least, great success. I swear, this band actually swing and drone at the same time, and both songs here are nightclub stompers in the ‘60s tradition. Correspondingly, Conelly tries for a garage-punk snarl in his vocal, but he seems to naturally err more toward a deeep Ian Curtis kinda voice, belting it out in a razor sharp monotone, sounding like he really gives a shit. He wasn’t smiling when they recorded this, that’s for sure.

Listening to ‘How Do you Know’ for the 79th time, it occurs to me it almost sounds like the sort of thing Joy Division might have come up with if they’d been way into The Music Machine. An absurd and unwarranted brain-wrong, I realise… I mean, can you even IMAGINE Joy Division listening to The Music Machine..? No, me neither. But some freak urge still caused me to write that, and hopefully that’ll give you some idea of why you need to go listen to The Lyres right away.

This is 100% proof party music, but it sounds like one goddamn serious party – perfectly formed, urgent, weird rock n’ roll. Regardless of what came later, there were no flies on these guys the day they recorded this; an absolute classic record.

http://www.dirtywaterclub.co.uk/
http://www.myspace.com/thelyres

Partyline / Spider & The Webs – split EP (Local Kid)

A split 7” from the respective 21st century projects of two of riot grrl’s finest, I bought this at that Partyline gig I wrote about earlier this year, although it actually dates from around 2003. As expected, Partyline rip through two slices of their ferocious, good times feminist hardcore chaos in about two minutes thirty, and I don’t need to tell you that it’ll be a sad day here at Stereo Sanctity when we find ourselves unable to enjoy a good bit of ferocious, good times feminist hardcore chaos when we hear it. ‘Ladies Room’ finds Allison Wolfe on her best, vicious scattershot form, taking a chainsaw to a hundred years of gender politics in ninety seconds, concluding with “..and always do your fucking dishes, yeah there’s all those dishes! Fuck your dishes!” Quite so.

Spider & The Webs were Tobi Vail’s new band, circa 2003, and I hope they’re still her well-established band circa now, cos their side here slays. Two great, skiwiff, punchy DIY pop songs, recorded rough and trebley with a two guitar / no bass line-up and Flying Nun-tastic reverb. Some killer group playing and a great vibe, and the songs are really gnarled up and catchy, like picturesque punk rock tree trunks. I hope they’re still at it.

http://www.partylinedc.com/
http://www.myspace.com/spiderandthewebs
http://www.localkid.co.uk/

The Pets – Let’s Go b/w I Want Fun (Douchemaster)

The Pets may have a picture of some girls on their record, but don’t be fooled. They are men, and palpably so. I recall the sticker on this one in All Ages made reference to The Voidoids and The Clash, and that’s spot on really; oblivious to any particular 2008 context, this is the kind of preppy, accomplished, powerpop-inflected punk you could easily imagine Seymour Stein writing a big cheque for back in 1978.

But wait, don’t turn it into an ashtray yet! Rest assured The Pets are responsible adults, and know that if you’re gonna press a 45 that cuts “Let’s Go” with “I Want Fun”, it is your duty to deliver on that promise, so all the dorkoid lyrics, middle eights and tasteless bass wonking you suspect they’ve got in ‘em are wisely avoided in favour of two fist-pounding, crowd-pleasing poppers, as gloriously obvious as the titles suggest. The lack of substance here would doubtless have Richard Hell wringing his poetical hands at what his legacy hath accidentally wrought, but no matter. If you played this to ten drunk people, it would make eight of them happy. Which is more than can be said for ‘Destiny Street’. SOLID, in a word.

http://www.myspace.com/thepetsoakland
http://www.douchemasterrecords.blogspot.com/

Popular Workshop – William, It Was Really Something
(Tough Love)

Nice cover concept on this one! No gross apocalyptic cartoons or photos of weird kids with guitars rocking out on the beach, giant cats, scary manga girls with rayguns or any of the things I usually like to see on record covers, true, but overall it’s a lovely design job from Tough Love – yellow vinyl too to match the paintjob on the band’s name. I think Sleevage would dig it.

Musically, Popular Workshop do thoroughly decent indie-rock of the kind that smart boys who are good at music like to do, capturing yet again that awkward moment in which the jagged, twisty funk-inspired approach that once signalled post-punk shock becomes straight indie default, familiar as a cup of tea. Not that there's anything wrong with a nice cup of tea. The band are tight as all hell, and the singer sounds nerdy and kinda desperate. For a few moments I even thought it sounded like The Embarrassment – which is HIGH PRAISE INDEED, to make up for the tepid praise above – but… no, too polite I guess. Music that hedges it’s bets when to work it should be all over yer fucking face, and so forth. Sorry guys. That hurt.

http://www.myspace.com/popularworkshop
http://www.toughloverecords.com/main.htm

Sex Vid – Tania EP (Dom America)

Fuck me. This puts everything else I’ve written about here into cruel perspective.

From Olympia WA, but pitched about as from the K empire as it’s possible to get, Sex Vid – profiled by singles column godhead Doug Mosurock here – play unrelenting, brutalist hardcore, combining it with the grim aesthetic sensibilities of KVLT black metal and a plain-speaking sense of sheer disgust and dissatisfaction that cuts straight through the layers of affectation common to those genres, leaving a core of fearfully powerful music that pins you to the fucking wall.

Despite the implicit/explicit violence of every aspect of this disc, there’s no macho chest-beating to be found here, rather a sense of quick-moving fragility and fierce intelligence common to all truly great, outsider punk rock. Songs are deliberate in intention and execution, instrumental lines are primed to cut their way into your ear-brain like a scalpel and stay there, without ever taking the easy route of obvious melody, much like the hallowed riffs of prime-era Darkthrone or early Emperor. And the noise, christ, the sheer volume – even brought to us via the limitations imposed by basement four-track recording, cheaply pressed vinyl and the worn out needle on my cheap-ass mini-hifi, the feedback roaring from these guys’ amps, the deathdealing WHACK of the drummer, is near physically frightening.

Lyrics are similarly pulverising – brief, ambiguous, fascinating and sometimes even audible sans lyric sheet (quite an achievement for a band this fast and distortion-heavy). Delivered with a kind of strangulated, desperate honesty, Sex Vid’s songs offer entry into the kind of dark, dark headspace that’s been off limits for grown-ups to wallow in since being reduced to a joke by the goth contingent at around the same time myself and the members of Sex Vid were going to nursery school, but to hear vocalist Judd yell through “Maybe they’ll put your skull on an altar / maybe they’ll shove your head on a stake … don’t bother asking Dad about ‘Nam / next one’s gonna be even worse” on ‘Misprint’, like a man calling judgement on the whole upcoming century, makes my nerve-endings shiver on the same wavelength as listening to Lydia howling through ‘Orphans’ for the first time way back when.

I hope I don’t give the impression of being taken in yet again by some mysterioso, underground hype scam, but there’s no arguing with music like this, and it’s thrilling and unnerving to know this band are out there in the wilderness, recording quick, cheap and loud, meaning what they say, and not giving a shit whether you know who they are or not, let alone whether you approve. It’s like getting a happy holidays postcard from a character in a post-apocalyptic atrocity movie – “you’re already here, you just don’t know it yet”.

Appropriately perhaps, neither band nor label have a myspace or web presence, and googling them probably won’t end well, so…. happy hunting.

ShiSho – Will Punch You EP (Filthy Little Angels)

Now this is a strange one. Basically, Shisho sound as if some American hipster-type parents have worked out some goofy songs in the vein of Prewar Yardsale or Moldy Peaches, and coerced their young children into singing them. Ok, I suppose maybe the nature of the kid / grown-up collaboration was a little more open than that, but still, you show me the five year old who can play smooth acoustic guitar and concoct lyrical gags about Jerry Lewis. But, if you can get past the fact that sitting at home listening to a record of some primary school kids singing weird lo-fi songs for pleasure is FAIRLY UNCOMFORTABLE, at least two of the four songs here are actually really enjoyable, and not as insufferably cutesy as one might fear.

‘America Will Punch You’ takes a surreal child’s-eye-view of U.S. foreign policy horror, and is actually pretty damn hilarious, whilst ‘Punk Rawk Boy’ and ‘The Thing That Only Eats Hippies’, are, oddly, both Dead Milkmen covers, the latter reinvented as a self-explanatory bedtime story rapped over a a minimal drum machine pre-set, the kids giggling with glee as the beast in question gobbles up David Crosby and spits him out, and the punks come out to celebrate. Mum and dad, I can tell you’re raising these kids well. The remaining track is a pretty cringeworthy faux-disco oddity that goes on way too long, but for a teach-the-kids-about-music project that got out of hand, there’s a real good fun feeling to ShiSho that’s hard not to appreciate.

CORRECTION: a look at Shisho’s myspace confirms that the band are actually two sisters, and that they recorded their songs themselves, and have started their own label to help promote other ‘kid bands’. So I unequivocally apologise and withdraw my above accusations of grown-up involvement. Seriously, how cool do you have to be to start your own DIY record label when you’re, like, TEN? – it’s off the scale. Much respect & good luck to them!

http://www.myspace.com/shisho
You can download this EP for free from: http://www.filthylittleangels.com/

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I'll be rounding up a final few singles, probably proof-reading the above post a bit, and hopefully sorting out various emails which have thus far remained rudely unanswered, after returning from the End Of The Road festival this weekend, and a few subsequent nights of great, exciting music type stuff. But just wanted to make sure I posted some stuff before departing. See ya soon!

Labels: Partyline, Popular Workshop, Sex Vid, Shisho, singles reviews, Spider and the Webs, The Lyres, The Pets

INTERMISSION.

Here's Love, doing 'Message To Pretty' on some TV show in 1966;



*speechless*

Arthur Lee, we hardly knew ye.

Labels: 1960s, Arthur Lee, Love, videos