I’ve often wondered why the search
for new music has been such an important part of my life, and though I don’t
really ever find a satisfactory answer, I think the biggest part is to find a
way to capture and keep capturing that initial joy of discovery that comes with
finding music at a young age. It’s like
an eternal search for youth. I know that
there are a few releases every year where a big part of their appeal to me is
from the artist’s high energy alone.
Speaking of energy, the aptly named Fresh
released their third album, Raise Hell,
last month and I’m pretty excited about it.
My summer of 2019 was pretty well
dominated by their last LP, Withdraw. I fed into the pop hooks, the youthful energy
of the performances, and especially the frank words (mostly about low
self-esteem) and vocals Kathryn Woods. I don’t know, it boosted me. It was refreshing to hear twelve songs in
under 30 minutes that are not all identical.
I’ve listened to it endlessly and have had each song as a favorite at
different points in time. Their second
album was them finding their voice. It
is a marked improvement on their debut, as it claims their own territory and
stands out as unique.
Not sure if I had any expectations
for the new album.Gone, for me, are
those days of high expectations of bands and then harshly judging them on the
actual results.Nowadays I prefer to
just wait and see.I liked their singles
leading up to Raise Hell, and I can
announce that there’s nothing super different here, yet it’s still a blast to
listen and often!They are a band that
puts together songs that feel effortless in the sense that they can go all
kinds of different directions and it all sounds right.Plus, they play with such gusto, it is
addictive.
The opener, “Our Love,” is a slow
builder that utilizes a similar keyboard sound to The Kinks’ nostalgic elegy “Come Dancing” from 1982, before heading
into becoming a full-on rousing
number. The pre-LP single, “Morgan &
Joanne,” pops up next and I dare one to not get this tune about a relationship
that is doomed from the get go, stuck in their head. For the real highlight comes at track four,
“Going to Bed.” It opens quietly,
befitting the title, but quickly turns into a pseudo-ska jaunty pop classic,
complete with horn section, that sounds as fresh to me now as the old 2 Tone stuff did 40 years ago. For some reason, the wonderful chorus in the
round makes me think of The Rifles
at their best. What a great song!
This album isn’t as starkly as
dramatic lyrically as Withdraw, but
the breezy sounding “Fuck Up” and the vulnerable “Deer in the Headlights” show
that a mental health break might still be needed. I could easily see any of these songs
becoming huge hits, but in a good way, like “hey look at that indie rock band
on tv!” The recording is excellent as
well, I love how many songs have a soloing guitar slotted to the left a bit,
kind of like a Dinosaur Jr. song.
This kind of music feeds my soul and keeps
me going. When I listen, I feel like
jumping around. I no longer ever feel
young anymore, but it does get me out of bed.
When Wil and I started the This Wreckage ‘zine over 30 years ago now, the idea is that we would have people submit material that we would throw in each issue as is and put it out to the world.What we didn’t realize going in is that most people do not want to actually share things like that.We struggled in finding material to achieve our albeit ambitious goal of a monthly issue.
However, in a small way, I’d like to float out a similar request we used to do every issue, but with more of a singular focus. I am hoping that anyone who reads this would be willing to send some kind of story of a certain song that means something to them. This could mean a short story, an essay, a drawing, a photograph, a poem, a few words, I don’t know. One of my favorite things is to tie music to pretty much every waking minute of my life. It’s a problem really. There are hundreds of songs that evoke a lot of emotions for me for a variety of reasons based on their being nearby at the time. I absolutely love hearing and reading other people’s stories along these lines. I don’t care the genre or the artist, or my personal history, if any, with the song, I find these stories endlessly fascinating.
I’m hoping to encourage any and every one who might be willing to send some of their stories to me via messenger, or via email: tangledrec@hotmail.com. I would like to share them here, on this site, if given the permission.
Please ask any questions you may have.
Taliatha Anderson has been kind enough to tell a very personal story. Here it is:
In 8th grade
I formed some of the first friendships of my short life. I had been moving
around a lot in the Seattle area and had never formed any relationships outside
of my family that lasted longer than a couple of months. I was shy, sad, and
socially terrified. When I came back to my birthplace of Lincoln City, Oregon
and started attending Taft Middle School, I found a sense of belonging for the
first time. The misfit crowd absorbed me into their ranks and they became my
people. In Mr. Parker’s shop class, I sat with one girl from this crowd who had
band names written all over the outside of her binder. The Smiths, Siouxsie and the
Banshees, Depeche Mode, Joy Division, New Order and The Cure.
I was uninformed and for a minute thought that The Smiths was a romantic notion
that the boy she was dating, Shaw Smith and herself hoped Jr. High love would
go the distance. “No! It’s a band” she laughed, but happy I took their romance
as seriously as she did. I secretly wrote down all the names when she looked
away and slowly started to accumulate these artists and more.
Our local
record store, Driftwood Mac was a
treasure chest for me. The owner Mike became a face I couldn’t wait to see.
When I bought The Head on the Door by
The Cure from him in 1987 I had unknowingly bought my favorite record for the
next year. I was introduced to so many good artists at this time, but I kept
coming back to this album time and again, listening to it over and over.
Learning every inflection of Robert
Smith’s voice and his whiny cries and howls, going over every word like
religious text in my journal. It’s probably my favorite Cure album to this day.
10 perfect songs and oh man!! That album art!!!! A blurry x-ray of a face
turning into smoke to my mind. I’ve never wanted to find out what the art
really is, I’m still under its spell and knowing would take away a fundamental
truth of my life. Robert Smith wrote that album for me. That evaporating
screaming head with glowing eye sockets and hands covering it’s face in the
x-ray is looking in to my own mind, a frenzied light captured in darkness and
losing shape.
“Push” comes
on 5th. There’s a clean channel distorted guitar riff punctuated by drum fills
and it builds until the band all joins in. It becomes poppy, upbeat and
danceable. For a couple of minutes, it goes on until dropping off again to
build up again after another lonely guitar riff and Robert howls in the
distance. Then the lyrics begin. The phrases that gave voice to my rage. “He
gets inside to stare at her, the seeping mouth, the mouth that knows the secret
you, always you, a smile to hide the fear away, oh smear this man across the
walls like strawberries and cream!!”
I haven’t written
those words in ages. They still move me and even now I feel my pulse gain
speed. As an 8th grader I would find myself alone at home occasionally. If this
happened as soon as the coast was clear I sprinted to the stereo. I’d put on “Push”
loud and scream till I was hoarse. I’d pick up the needle to restart the song
after the short lyrical portion ends the offering abruptly after it levels its
accusations and makes its threat and resigns. The second time was always the
best listen because I had just sung the lyrics so now the instrumental part was
my youthful, uncoordinated dancing painting my living room with my wildly
waving arms having just sang the most affecting words I had heard in my life up
to that point. Yelling as loud as I could to “smear this man across the walls
like strawberries and cream!”
I am not sure
this song was written about what it became for me. I’ve never whole heartedly
jumped into the side of music that becomes academic or analytical. Maybe
there’s a narcissism in me that only wants to know what it means to me. I have
always found music gave me a language I could never speak myself and that raw,
vital connection has always felt fragile if I loved the music from a part of my
mind that was beyond my visceral reaction.
At a young
age I had lived a life of chaos and violence and my emotions were held hostage.
Years of being told to “wipe that look off your face”, “don’t you dare cry”,
“if you make a sound…!”, physically having a hand over my mouth and nose had
buried my voice deep down inside of me and The Cure was coaxing it out of me
until I reached the pinnacle and would scream with all the voice I could summon
as if sheer volume and intensity could smear that man across the wall. “It’s
the only way, it’s the only waaaaay to beeeeeeeeeeeeeyaaaaaaaaaaaoooooow!!!”
Cut from 87
to May 2008. 21 years later I was with my daughter Autumn at Sasquatch Music Festival in Quincy,
Washington at the Gorge Amphitheater.
Death Cab for Cutie played a fairly
hurried set because Ben and the guys couldn’t wait to hear “the fucking Cure”
as he put it. Even as a fan of Death Cab I couldn’t have agreed more.
I could write
a novel about this show and what it meant to me but for the edification of “Push”
as it applies to my experience, I will limit my bursting mind. I will say that
opening with “Under the Stars” with that background and under actual stars
might have been a little on the nose, but it was sublime. My relationship with
this song comes full circle when midway through The Cure’s set that guitar riff begins. I was not in control for a time. I was an 8th grader alone in my home,
finding my pain an outlet for the first time. I was a frenzied head evaporating
into smoke on that x-ray.
I had to pull
myself back to that moment I could not miss. I leaned into my daughter, now 5
inches taller than me. She knew my love of this artist and was protecting my
view and my experience from the drunken scene around me so I could focus on
this moment in time. I can still see Robert’s head completely still while his
eyes wander from side to side above his messy lipstick. He was constantly
making sideways glances through the edges of his ratty, black, cotton candy
hair, as if avoiding eye contact with his crowd. He began to plead into his mic
“exactly the same clean room, exactly the same clean bed, but I’ve stayed away
to long this time and I’ve got to big to fit this time” and I immediately felt
those 21 years.
My life no
longer was contained and defined by moments, it had become a fuller experience.
I can no longer fit into “Push” so completely. My voice now has a mind of its
own to speak for it. But, the beginning needed “Push.” The feeling of growth
and calm in the shadow of my beloved 15 year old daughter needed “Push.” I
needed “Push.” A menagerie of artists and art forms have continued to assist me
in exploring the emotional side of life, but this was my beginning of my
relationship with my fractured self. It has been the most difficult journey of
my life, but holy shit!!! It has a kick ass mix-tape, and the opener, the hook….
When Wil and I started the This Wreckage ‘zine over 30 years ago now, the idea is that we would have people submit material that we would throw in each issue as is and put it out to the world.What we didn’t realize going in is that most people do not want to actually share things like that.We struggled in finding material to achieve our albeit ambitious goal of a monthly issue.
However, in a small way, I’d like to float out a similar request we used to do every issue, but with more of a singular focus. I am hoping that anyone who reads this would be willing to send some kind of story of a certain song that means something to them. This could mean a short story, an essay, a drawing, a photograph, a poem, a few words, I don’t know. One of my favorite things is to tie music to pretty much every waking minute of my life. It’s a problem really. There are hundreds of songs that evoke a lot of emotions for me for a variety of reasons based on their being nearby at the time. I absolutely love hearing and reading other people’s stories along these lines. I don’t care the genre or the artist, or my personal history, if any, with the song, I find these stories endlessly fascinating.
I’m hoping to encourage any and every one who might be willing to send some of their stories to me via messenger, or via email: tangledrec@hotmail.com. I would like to share them here, on this site, if given the permission.
Please ask any questions you may have.
Jimmy Rattanasouk has been generous enough to share a story! Here it is:
“16,
clumsy, and shy”. Anyone who feels music as part of their life can relate to
these lyrics. I first heard the Smiths on
an AM station in high school, it was the music that became my lullaby. It
wasn’t until college that I found out the name of the band. I was fortunate to
find out about the band, and the song, and sound that felt like me that then
turned into a romance.
In
college I found someone that smelled like the Smiths, made my life feel like I
was a Smiths song, and gave me an ending that a Smiths song could only expect.
Other Smiths lyrics may be more appropriate, but Half a Person can capture any
emotion, “Call me morbid, call me pale. I've spent too long on your trail. Far
too long chasing your tail, oh”.
At 19
I made it to England and had to make the pilgrimage to Manchester to trace the
chalk marks I made in my mind of this song. The song was based in London, but
it was really Manchester for me. I went to the “why WCA” and as expected there
wasn’t a vacancy for me. I walked around the downtown tracing my fingers on the
walls of old churches going out of style and bridges that held up the city
people for centuries that weathered like the parents of the same folk who
walked them. I went to a Pizza Hut and ordered a pizza from the counter girl who
couldn’t understand me and sounded like she was speaking Gallic, but got my
personal pizza and ate it on the bridge overlooking the many canals of the
city.
I
thought about staying at a nice hotel since I had some extra money, but decided
to just take the 6 hour train ride back to mirror the train ride I took that
morning. The first ride was for the hope of discovery the city of the Smiths.
The second part was to remember what I discovered. And I still wanted to feel
16, clumsy, and shy.
Sacramento’s Desario has released their fourth album! This is a great surprise, because it’s their
first new material since 2016. When they
released two fantastic EPs that year, for some reason, I thought more new
material was right around the corner.
Instead, over a year later they compiled the two EPs to create their
third album, III. And now five years later, they are back with
more!
Since Desario’s first album back in
2009, they’ve been slowly evolving. The
four-piece create a smooth, but intricate post punk sound. The evolution has come with songwriting. They have become more direct over the years,
and a little edgier, without losing their hypnotic sound.
First of all, Signal and Noise, is immaculately recorded by guitarist/keyboardist,
Michael Yoas. The sound is tight and beautiful. There seems to be an added layer of
atmosphere from keyboards and a tightly wound buzz that moves through these
songs. I also noticed that even though
the songs in general have become more spacious, making room for John Conley’s vocals over the years, his
voice feels like it’s mixed a little lower here. Whatever, the case, the entirety of side one
is super catchy and a pleasure to hear, highlighted by the bass intro of “Throw
it Back.” This song displays the twin
guitar strengths of Conley and Yoas perfectly all in a haunting three-minute
pop song, as does the Holiday Flyer reminiscent
“Nevergreen.”
Side two opens with my favorite song
on the album, the mesmerizing “Things We Left Behind.” This song is so powerful in so many
ways. It reminds a bit of their ‘sister’
band Soft Science with its keyboard
background along with that grinding buzz.
It is truly a transporting song.
It manages the trick of being super dreamy and massive sounding. The final songs feature Mike Carr’s wonderful basslines (especially the closer, “Eraser”) within
wistful sounding nuggets.
These guys will likely never be a big
‘buzz’ band, but whenever and whatever they do, I am here for it!
When Wil and I started the This Wreckage ‘zine over 30 years ago
now, the idea is that we would have people submit material that we would throw
in each issue as is and put it out to the world.What we didn’t realize going in is that most
people do not want to actually share things like that.We struggled in finding material to achieve
our albeit ambitious goal of a monthly issue.
However, in a small way, I’d like to
float out a similar request we used to do every issue, but with more of a
singular focus.I am hoping that anyone
who reads this would be willing to send some kind of story of a certain song
that means something to them.This could
mean a short story, an essay, a drawing, a photograph, a poem, a few words, I
don’t know.One of my favorite things is
to tie music to pretty much every waking minute of my life.It’s a problem really.There are hundreds of songs that evoke a lot
of emotions for me for a variety of reasons based on their being nearby at the
time.I absolutely love hearing and
reading other people’s stories along these lines.I don’t care the genre or the artist, or my
personal history, if any, with the song, I find these stories endlessly
fascinating.
I’m hoping to encourage any and every one who might be
willing to send some of their stories to me via messenger, or via email: tangledrec@hotmail.com. I would like to
share them here, on this site, if given the permission.
Please ask any questions you may
have.
I'll start:
Not Too Soon
Sometime during the summer of 1992, I
found myself at an impromptu gathering during a sunny afternoon out in the
forests in the Otis / Rose Lodge west of my home town of Lincoln City. I don’t remember the circumstances
surrounding this, but a few of my childhood friends were there, along with a
few older people who knew through school growing up, as well as a few younger
ones. I vividly remember the
environment. It was incredibly relaxed
and comfortable. I remember The Cult’s third album Electric was playing quietly and it
sounded good to me, even though I remember hating the album when it was
new. I was never a Cult fan, but them
overtly trying to sound like AC/DC
bothered me. It was later that I truly
began to appreciate its singled-mindedness.
I remember hearing it at a music venue between an opening band and the
headliner one time and it sounded like the best album ever made!
That afternoon / early evening I had
fun being a stupid goofball with my old friends and getting to know some of the
others that I didn’t know very well previously.
Even though we were all young. It
felt very adult. We were all drinking
beer, but no one to excess, or making a show of it, the music was quiet, the
conversations were about life and felt non-judgmental, and all was calm. I remember thinking to myself that I liked
this. All of my anxiety floated away, I
felt accepted, the dark fog of the previous year had faded some, and I was
beginning to sense possibilities again.
At that time, I had confirmed that I was going to returning to college. It was a dawning of new beginnings and this
was what being an adult felt like.
Of course, school that fall didn’t
work out, my health went south again, I never saw many of those people again, all
kinds of weird drama wound through my head making me feel like I was constantly
on an emotional roller coaster, one tinged with a constant heartbreak and a strange desperation. Normal stuff.
Not very adult. I guess that just
comes with age, not a state of mind.
At any rate, that very adult and way
too brief gathering ended while the sun was still out. I will never forget climbing into my car, and
driving home toward the sunset. I had
the windows down and the stereo blasting Throwing
Muses’ “Not Too Soon.” The song was
so tight and sparkly and sounded so amazing at that moment. I remember feeling genuinely good!
Throwing Muses had always been hit
and miss with me, so I hadn’t purchased any of their music since their first
album. I had thrown “Not Too Soon” onto
a mixtape after I had found it on one of those Sire Records label samplers they released back in those days. Not only is the song super catchy and bright,
but I will always remember it for that pleasant moment in time. Even the music video harkens to that day, as
it was shot in a barn. It looks and
feels like the scene of that gathering. The
lyrics are a mystery to me. Seems to be
a kiss off to some older dude who plays with the hearts of young women, so no,
I do not identify with it on that level, but it may be the first time I truly
realized how much I love a good pop tune and this one is addictive. I never get tired of it and it always makes
me think of that long ago evening.
When Wil and I started the This Wreckage ‘zine over 30 years ago
now, the idea is that we would have people submit material that we would throw
in each issue as is and put it out to the world. What we didn’t realize going in is that most
people do not want to actually share things like that. We struggled in finding material to achieve
our albeit ambitious goal of a monthly issue.
However, in a small way, I’d like to
float out a similar request we used to do every issue, but with more of a
singular focus. I am hoping that anyone
who reads this would be willing to send some kind of story of a certain song
that means something to them. This could
mean a short story, an essay, a drawing, a photograph, a poem, a few words, I
don’t know. One of my favorite things is
to tie music to pretty much every waking minute of my life. It’s a problem really. There are hundreds of songs that evoke a lot
of emotions for me for a variety of reasons based on their being nearby at the
time. I absolutely love hearing and
reading other people’s stories along these lines. I don’t care the genre or the artist, or my
personal history, if any, with the song, I find these stories endlessly
fascinating.
I’m hoping any and everyone would be
willing to send some of their stories to me via messenger, or via email: tangledrec@hotmail.com or even via post: PO Box 9263, Portland, OR 97207. I would like to
share them here, on this site, if given the permission.
When I was buying records in the late
80s / early 90s, a lot of them were from US and UK indie labels like Creation, 4AD, Slumberland, SpinArt, and Pop
Narcotic, among many others. I didn’t
think that each LP, EP or 7” I purchased was part of a burgeoning “scene,”
which would be later coined “shoegaze.” I just
thought of each label putting out like minded releases because they were all
run by a couple of people at most, so their tastes coincided with where I was
at at the time. What I liked about so many
of these releases is that they checked a lot of different boxes for me. These bands were not afraid to play loud and
fast, they dabbled in experimentation with noise and heavy doses of feedback,
yet could also go so mellow that they were ambient, they weren’t afraid to
release records that had dance beats, or were straight up jangle pop. Sometimes, all of these elements were in one
song! Has anyone listened to the Boo Radleys “Lazarus” lately?
the Boo Radleys "Lazarus"
I was first introduced to Japanese
fourpiece COLLAPSE in the spring of
2018. It was the closer of their EP Delirium Poetry, “Tokyo,” and its
unbelievably melancholic atmosphere drew me in.
It is a heavy guitar song that has a hook that is so mournful and
languid that one cannot help but feel something reflective and emotional. I became an instant fan and have hungrily gobbled
up their few single releases over the past few years. Black
Sheep is Still Dreaming is their long-awaited debut LP!
Listening to this album is such a
joy! It is, for me, like listening to
those records, like I did some thirty years ago, unencumbered by genre. It would’ve fit right in. It is diverse, loud, very loud, dreamy,
catchy, fast, heavy, and light. They do
employ a lot of LOUD, quiet, LOUD in their songs, or at least song to song,
which is a very early 90s element, one which I never grew tired of. It was an element that appealed to me I
suppose in an orchestral way. It was
very dramatic.
Their single, “Drown,” from the spring
of 2020 is this collection’s melancholic heavy hitter, but I swear that it’s
slow beat and blasting guitars are that much more effective due to its
placement between the quiet street noise/piano instrumental “epilogue,” and the
shredding punk pop “Syrup.” “Syrup”
sounds like a Jawbreaker outtake circa
1992, with a female singing falsetto in place of Blake Schwarzenbach. The
other glorious pre-LP singles singles “Vertigo” and “Garden” are also
included. “Vertigo is an upbeat pop
number that isn’t afraid to be loud, while “Garden” is a breezy wonder a little
reminiscent of Chaperhouse’s
legendary “Pearl.”
I cannot tell you how much I love this
album! I find myself listening to it on
repeat often and tweaking the volume up incrementally until my ears buzz. Thankfully, I splurged for the CD, which comes
with two incredible exclusive bonus tracks!
Well worth the expense, if you ask me.
Their debut album may have been a long time coming, but I’m already
hankering for more. Please seek this
out.
