Coursing Through The Wires #6

Not really sure how to get back to the music -- the technogeekery side of this space is generally much easier since I spend so much time at work.  In any event, here's a brief roundup of recentish pickups...

Arcade Fire -- Funeral (Merge, 2004)

Yes, I was late to the game when I finally purchased this back in November (quasi-cutout bin -- "2 for $22" at a local Borders).  I'd heard about half the record over on XMU, however, so I had some understanding of what I was getting into.  I'm officially sick of tall-poppy syndrome (a/k/a "we hate it when our friends become successful" -- and look how well that worked out for the old Moz).  Yes, it's been going on since the beginning of time, but that doesn't mean it's either justified or appropriate.  I'm happy that Arcade Fire got a Grammy nod -- not because "the Man validated our music/scene/existence" but because the record does deserve broad recognition for its accomplishments. The triumph of this album isn't the number of people on stage or the back-story -- it's the skill of sonic composition.  It's rare to find disparate pieces of sound that fit together organically, as illustrated by the vast majority of mashups and samplefests.  Funeral is the only album I've purchased in the last 3-4 years that I kept playing over and over even after having mentally processed it -- there's a thrill in the chiming guitar harmonics, a thorny slash in the nasal vocals,  a propulsive charge when tension builds and releases without resorting to the mid-90s "dynarock" sound.  It's great to find a complete, cohesive effort that doesn't resort to the pretension of a "concept album."

Gorillaz -- Demon Days (EMI, 2005)

The other half of my "2 for $22" purchase -- everyone's favorite cartoon band.  Again, I'd heard enough on XMU to overcome the "As Heard in the iPod Commercial" sticker on the front. The truly revelatory moment came a couple months after I'd bought this when I heard a broadcast of the Gorillaz concert at the Manchester Opera House in November 2005.  I was prepared for Gorillaz to be little more than a studio construct, especially with DJ Dangermouse's involvement -- but the performance captured an energy and depth that I never expected.  Assembling nearly every source from the record for the night was an unprecedented logistical feat, never mind getting them all to fit together aurally on what was undoubtedly a limited practice schedule.  Sly and slinky beats meet fey vocals and bewildering production skills that translate remarkably well to the live setting.

The Stranglers -- Peaches -- The Very Best Of... (EMI,  2002)

Despite the title, only about half of this compilation is listenable.  In trying to capture the full range of Stranglers expressions, you wind up with dreck like "Always the Sun" slotted adjacent to "Something Better Change" and "Skin Deep" sandwiched by "No More Heroes" and "Hanging Around."  The half that is worth listening to, of course, is pretty stellar and therefore mitigates some of the frustration.  Your mileage WILL vary with the Stranglers -- I tend to like the snottier moments (plus, oddly enough, "Golden Brown") but others jonesing for a late 80s fix will also get what they need.  I think the only way to explain this band is to see them as a bunch of dilletantes slipping and sliding through the broad boundaries of "rock music."

Helium -- "The American Jean" b/w "Termite Tree" (Warped, 1992)

I got to thinking about this song around the time I started Coursing #5, when I heard some sad news about an old friend and the original bloofga-wrangler, Liz Clayton.  Some time after the Indie-List had gotten rolling, we met up in Boston -- Liz was working on the first issue of Wind Up Toy (senior project, if I recall correctly) and I was home from school on spring break.  She'd arranged an interview with the former members of Boston's late (but not-so-lamented) Dumptruck, who were then backing Mary Timony in a new band called Helium.  We spent a good part of the afternoon cruising around Brookline and Brighton in the back of a delivery van.  Anyway, "The American Jean" is likely the best pop song Mary Timony's ever been a part of... including Autoclave and her current solo efforts in druidry.  It's bitter and uplifting all at once, and if you hurry you might be able to hear it over at Shake Your Fist and then make a commitment to organ donation in honor of Liz and her dear, departed husband Jeff.