Fat Freddy’s Drop – Dr. Boondigga and the Big BW

Posted by: Nick Tetsworth, June 30th 2010

Dr. Boondigga and the Big BW album cover

What do you do after you’ve created one of your home country’s most successful millennial albums? Stir the pot and serve up more jams, of course. Dr. Boondigga and the Big BW, a fine slice of 2009 by New Zealand’s Fat Freddy’s Drop, is a wonderfully varied work filled with soul, dub, reggae, and a little electronica thrown in to spice things up.

Based on a True Story put Fat Freddy’s Drop on the map, as great albums do for the artists who make them. Despite the immense pressure on the group to make another classic, you won’t see any hint of that stress on Dr. Boondigga and the Big BW, although taking four years to release an album points to more deliberate motions than you might think. The album deftly avoids being a sound-alike by being composed of 9 completely different tracks, each with its own joys.

“Big BW” opens the album with soulful vocals, heavy bass footsteps, adventurous synthesizers and a relaxed tempo. I consider it brave to begin an album with a track as smooth and relaxed as this. Rather than launching straight into one of the more upbeat numbers at hand, “Big BW” sets the tone and introduces the album rather than consuming it.

The ten-and-a-half minute “Shiverman” encapsulates one of the central ideas of Dr. Boondigga. Several of the pieces here use their length to develop new ideas, a hallmark of bands with a history of live jams. Many such live developments don’t transfer well to production, but here they flow invisibly and seamlessly. If that weren’t enough, “Shiverman” is almost like an instruction manual on how to make house music with live instruments. Using the length of the track to great effect, a sort of paranoiac eccentricity is built on top of vocalist Joe Dukes’ incessant intonations and slithering digital delay: “shake that shiverman/hairs on the back stand…” Definitely worth the entire length.

“Boondigga” charts a course through emotional longing built on saxophone melodies and deep keyboards before reducing to a driving German-influenced beat and a dense, nervous energy that builds until reaching a conclusive echo. “The Raft” chases a reggae beat, while “The Camel” exudes soul before finishing with more quirky synthesizers. I really enjoy the analog synths on this record; they are a bit silly at times, but in truth, they embody the playful spirit of the record and show the growth of the band over the years between this record and the last. “The Nod” hearkens back to the first record with its bouncy beat, vocal sections, inviting lyrics and saxophone antics. “Breakthrough,” featuring an extended intro that recalls Talk Talk‘s Laughing Stock, closes with a plea for contentedness in life.

The album’s title reputedly refers to the band’s horror at the thought of being signed to a major label. If things go this swimmingly without a major label, don’t sweat it. Labels don’t usually let bands take their time between releases anyway, and I get the feeling that Fat Freddy’s Drop albums have to slow cook. No problem, fellas–we hope to see you again in another four years.

Mongo Santamaria – Soy Yo

Posted by: Kyle Pelligra, May 29th 2010

Mongo Santamaria - Soy Yo

Although this is a “blog about the future,”  it is important to recognize the past, as it has such a great impact on the future. In my conversations with musicians, sound engineers, friends, family, and other music aficionados, it has come to my attention that lovers of jazz are harder to come by these days. I mean true lovers of jazz – the ones who have memorized every note of Miles Davis’s solo in So What from the influential and well-renowned Kind of Blue.  Or those who can tell the difference between John Coltrane and Cannonball Adderley solos without hesitation. The aim of my posts will be to do my part of preserving jazz music by posting about some of my favorite obscure jazz albums and musicians. Jazz has had an incredible impact on rock, rap, pop, R&B, and others. I hope that my posts shed light on jazz albums of all styles that might have slipped by the eyes of the old or new lovers of jazz.

Are there any Latin jazz lovers out there? If so, then I have an album for you. The late Mongo Santamaria’s album Soy Yo from 1987 stands out as musically different than what was being produced in the late 1980’s. The Caribbean and South American beats, rhythms, and vocals seem to stand in contrast to other albums produced during this era of new wave, Sammy Hagar, and bands like New Order – all important entities of the 1980’s music scene but quite different from what Mongo was recording at the time.

The album literally “moves” quickly as you dream of dancing at a celebration alongside the natives of a Caribbean or South American village; a Latin street party at its finest where everyone from child to grandfather is moving to the beat long into the night. The flute, saxophone, and piano solos are moving to say the least. They provide not only the melody at times but take the atmosphere to an extreme due to the soloist’s high-energy playing. Furthermore, a consistent beating of Mongo’s bongos by the Afro-Cuban percussionist himself makes an excellent backdrop for the melody and soloist ideas. Quite simply, the music makes you want to stand up and move your hips!  One track I specifically enjoy is Mongo’s cover of Sade’s Smooth Operator, a high-profile single from the 1984 album Diamond Life. The choice of this cover by Mongo not only pays homage to the predominate music style of the time but also demonstrates that he was appreciative and aware of the musical age in which he existed.

In closing, if you are a lover of Latin jazz then don’t let this album slip by. Although it is somewhat short (approximately 40 minutes), that shouldn’t deter you from hearing it. The level of talent amongst the musicians who performed on this album is beyond words. Enjoy these songs and believe for yourself.

The Loose Screws – Live at Shakedown Street

Posted by: Nick Tetsworth, May 17th 2010

Outside Shakedown Street

Musical talent sometimes manifests in a single person or in a unified front. Sometimes it manifests in several different ways, in a melting pot of different but compatible ideas. The Loose Screws are definitely the latter. A little rock, blues, jazz, and dub go a long way.

Back on Friday the 7th I visited Raleigh to catch The Loose Screws playing live over at Shakedown Street. Referencing the 1978 Grateful Dead album, Shakedown Street is a firecracker of a place that was positively ensconced in tie-dye during The Loose Screws’ three hour set. The venue was smaller, which helped to magnify the band’s raw power while amassing an interested crowd on the street outside. Upon arriving, I could hear the sounds of the band beginning to make their way out into the night. Shakedown Street was packed with interested fans and onlookers alike. I had heard a few live tracks by the band through their MySpace page, but as the opening salvo unfolded, I realized I was only somewhat prepared for the real deal. The band’s efforts were like a revolving musical spotlight, and the varied maneuvering provided for an immensely enjoyable show.

The energy present was palpable; nothing makes for an intense rhythmic experience like a trio composed of hand percussion, drums, and thundering bass. At one point, the band took a break to allow the two drummers, Josh Gow (drums) and Jordan Dixon (percussion) to take center stage to great effect. Their inward and outward demeanors, respectively, meshed well. And I must say that the eccentric performance of Joseph Beamon on bass guitar (and occasional vocals) was captivating. Part rock, part blues, and everything in between, Beamon at times moved his bass guitar with as much physical force as it might take to move an eighteen wheeler.

Jon Wolf and Vince Tricarico made an excellent guitar tag team. Vince took a few vocal turns while maintaining his guitar work, and Jon took numerous soloing journeys that were in fascinating opposition to his understated appearance and demeanor. Whenever he focused in on a particularly virtuosic section, Jon seemed to disappear into another world–and draw in the audience as his intricate jazz influences unfolded one by one. Jon and Vince were probably the most reserved members of The Loose Screws; together, they were a balancing force for a band that was alternately staid and surreal.

Perhaps the most versatile talent on display was Maribethe Hayes, the lead vocalist for The Loose Screws. She sang tracks from Gloria Gaynor to Bob Marley, as well as the band’s originals, with conviction and gusto. If that weren’t enough, she also happened to be an excellent flautist. On occasion she would pluck it from a perch near the mic and move gracefully into an instrumental interlude. I am certain that The Loose Screws are proud to have such a varied and emotional vocalist.

Of the nearly two dozen songs in the three sets that The Loose Screws played, I enjoyed their renditions of Magic Carpet Ride and Superstition the most, as well as their own song entitled Hoppin’ John. Hoppin’ John was more indicative of the live tracks I had heard from the band prior to seeing the show: relaxed, chilled out, and laid back, with a sassy rhythm carried by Jordan Dixon’s percussion handiwork. Superstition was a showcase for Joseph Beamon’s insistent bass guitar playing that rocked out in all the right directions. And their extra-upbeat version of Magic Carpet Ride began as though the original were on a sugar high with Maribethe Hayes chasing the beat, but it quickly morphed into a roaring wall of sound that swirled in on itself, creating a marvelous vortex of psychedelia. Definitely my favorite, and a sublime update on the original.

The Loose Screws bring a wide variety of talents to the table: rocking drums, talented guitars, free-spirited vocals, and more. While The Loose Screws and Shakedown Street fit together extremely well, they would definitely shine on their own. Both made for an entertaining night from folks who genuinely care about their work and are passionate about good times. If you get the opportunity to visit Shakedown Street or see The Loose Screws live, they come highly recommended.

The Loose Screws picture

Primal Scream – XTRMNTR

Posted by: Nick Tetsworth, April 24th 2010

Primal Scream - XTRMNTR

If you don’t know of any good records that will pound your head in with giant walls of noise- and electronic-inflected rock, this is a good one to start with. Primal Scream’s 2000 record, XTRMNTR, is a triumphant explosion of sound sure to shake you up.

If you know anything about Primal Scream, then you are familiar with their long and winding history of pilfering genres in weird ways. Who gets all of the credit for that? I’ll pin it on the producers; in fact, I will say that Primal Scream is the most malleable band I’ve heard. Aside from their personal penchant for Rolling Stones-influenced sounds, they have made forays into dub, indie rock/acid house, pop, and the intense noise rock and electro present on XTRMNTR. They have done so with the help of several other musical visionaries, and on this album, Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine and David Holmes share production credit with several others. In addition, Bernard Sumner of New Order shows up here, as do The Chemical Brothers. Quite a meeting of the minds!

Opening an album with a track called “Kill All Hippies” is a good way to get the attention of the listener. The track name has less to do with a specific message and more to do with describing the album’s raw aggression, a sentiment echoed by several of the other track names. The track itself introduces most of the album’s main elements: electro synths, careful sampling, distorted washes of guitar and bass, rock and dance beats, and frontman Bobby Gillespie’s idiosyncratic vocals.  Following the first track, “Accelerator” is a wall of Kevin Shields-style noise rock whose intensity is unmatched on the album. It also holds up well against other such well-produced blasts of energy elsewhere in the decade. If you don’t normally listen to such distorted monstrosities, then listen to this one all the way through at a decent volume. Rarely will a track shake you like this one.

After exploring a few dance beats and further monologues against the establishment on “Exterminator” and “Swastika Eyes,” Gillespie goes a little haywire on “Pills.” Dropping as many f-bombs as the average hard-R film, it goes off the deep end mostly due to psychotic rambling and a lack of general enjoyability. And strangely, it feels out of place despite fitting well with the theme. Trying to make a really angry album is sure to create some faults.

Following this deranged interlude, we dip further into dance (the Chemical Brothers remix of “Swastika Eyes”), and explore a noise-drenched redux of “If They Move, Kill ‘Em” from Primal Scream’s previous dub outing, Vanishing Point. We finish up with “Shoot Speed/Kill Light,” which drives off into the sunset marking an optimistic conclusion to an album filled with animus and vitriol. (Note: there are bonus tracks at the end of some versions of the album. They’re good, but personally I prefer the album closing with the original last track.)

If you have enjoyed other Primal Scream albums, then you should definitely hear this one-it will turn your mental image of the band upside down. If you haven’t listened to any of their other albums yet, this is a great place to start. I’ve heard XTRMNTR described by other critics as aiming to make a grand statement, falling a little short, and producing an excellent record in the process. And there’s nothing wrong with that at all.

My Morning Jacket – Z

Posted by: Nick Tetsworth, April 14th 2010

My Morning Jacket - Z

Some records just put a smile on your face like a glass of lemonade on a hot day. One minute, the oppressive summer sun won’t let up; the next, you’ve noticed the beautiful blue sky. My Morning Jacket’s 2005 record Z is a satisfying album that’s sure to brighten your day without burning a hole in your shirt.

The title of the first track, “Wordless Chorus,” came across as some kind of meaningless posturing the first time I saw it-I wasn’t yet wise to the record’s slack personality. Upon hearing it, I discovered that it does indeed feature a wordless chorus. Well, good on My Morning Jacket for following up on their promise! But after you hear this one a few times, or even just once, you’ll be enamored. The gently wavering electronic bass welcomes you past the threshold where tentative keyboards and soft vocals await. My Morning Jacket vocalist/guitarist Jim James singing over synthesized washes of sound and carefully enunciated guitar melodies is this track’s calling card.

The production for Z was managed by John Leckie, who claims credits on many records produced in a similarly galactic way. In fact, I am now overjoyed to find that he was responsible for several records that I am honored to have amongst my collection: The Stone Roses’ self-titled, the Spritualized record Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space, and the debut records of Muse, Radiohead, and The Verve, amongst others…this man is surely a hero in his own right.

Let me not disparage My Morning Jacket by giving Mr. Leckie too much credit. Jim James really owns this record through vocals that are powerfully delivered yet free-spirited. And see the Southern-influenced “Lay Low” and “Dondante” unravel into primal jams fit for much more hectic records, while “Gideon” reminisces and “Off The Record” bounces along before settling into a fine groove focusing around reversed vocals. The tracks that stretch out never feel excessive, and the harder hitting ones are well-recommended for being conscientious of the laid-back aesthetic.

Misjudging the opening track probably made the album even even more enjoyable. That’s what this album does: cool you off. My Morning Jacket’s 2005 offering is a fine album that should be heard by anyone who seeks out records that avoid cookie-cutter personality. Unlike some unorthodox records, Z is glad to relax: and you’ll be glad to join it.