Friday, March 04, 2005
and I've sent signals and signs from the mountainsides
M. Ward "Radio Campaign"
Another weekend, another show I know I’m going to miss: M. Ward will be at the MFA Saturday night, and I won’t. Last week it was the Futureheads, last night it was Six Organs of Admittance, and tomorrow it’ll be the man responsible for Transistor Radio, one of the three or four albums I’ve really gotten into thus far this year. Ward’s entrancing voice and superior songwriting skills distinguish him from like-minded lesser lights like Pedro the Lion and Damien Jurardo. Ward’s best work, including “Radio Campaign”, sounds like a late ‘20’s radio broadcast temporally displaced to the here and now; it’s easy to imagine Ward’s tender ditties sandwiched between Bascam Lamar Lunsford and an ad for Gold Dust Powder.
Dead Meadow "Stacy's Song"
So yes, I’ve completely gotten out of the habit of going to shows, and I can no longer tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I’ll check out a band if they’re playing nearby, like at Great Scott, which is closer to my apartment than the nearest Dunkin Donuts (ie, to non-Bostonians, it’s really fuckin’ close). I’ll also make it out if I can get in for free, as with the Crooked Fingers show later this month. But if it involves any effort, or, even worse, money, you can pretty much count me out. Thankfully, Dead Meadow will stop at Great Scott when they plow through town, and so I should make it to that one. Their new album, Feathers, is less heavy than previous records, and has a few attempts at a more pop-centric style. “Stacy’s Song”, for instance, while retaining the mysterious, shadowy pines psychedelia of Shivering King and Others, does so without the heft and volume we’ve come to expect. It actually has some semblance of a vocal melody, and the beginning is flat-out pretty. This sounds more like the Brian Jonestown Massacre, or something.
M. Ward "Radio Campaign"
Another weekend, another show I know I’m going to miss: M. Ward will be at the MFA Saturday night, and I won’t. Last week it was the Futureheads, last night it was Six Organs of Admittance, and tomorrow it’ll be the man responsible for Transistor Radio, one of the three or four albums I’ve really gotten into thus far this year. Ward’s entrancing voice and superior songwriting skills distinguish him from like-minded lesser lights like Pedro the Lion and Damien Jurardo. Ward’s best work, including “Radio Campaign”, sounds like a late ‘20’s radio broadcast temporally displaced to the here and now; it’s easy to imagine Ward’s tender ditties sandwiched between Bascam Lamar Lunsford and an ad for Gold Dust Powder.
Dead Meadow "Stacy's Song"
So yes, I’ve completely gotten out of the habit of going to shows, and I can no longer tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. I’ll check out a band if they’re playing nearby, like at Great Scott, which is closer to my apartment than the nearest Dunkin Donuts (ie, to non-Bostonians, it’s really fuckin’ close). I’ll also make it out if I can get in for free, as with the Crooked Fingers show later this month. But if it involves any effort, or, even worse, money, you can pretty much count me out. Thankfully, Dead Meadow will stop at Great Scott when they plow through town, and so I should make it to that one. Their new album, Feathers, is less heavy than previous records, and has a few attempts at a more pop-centric style. “Stacy’s Song”, for instance, while retaining the mysterious, shadowy pines psychedelia of Shivering King and Others, does so without the heft and volume we’ve come to expect. It actually has some semblance of a vocal melody, and the beginning is flat-out pretty. This sounds more like the Brian Jonestown Massacre, or something.
