Dive Bars...

Tom Petty, Soulja Boy, Britney Spears, Queen, Prince...

What the fuck kind of playlist is this and who in the hell is picking the tunes!? I'm convinced whoever made the playlist is on crack, and judging from the state of the bar...it would be an accurate assumption. The Space Room has the good fortune of playing host to me and some of my friends. And while I could understand the rather shady clientele, the music was horrendous!! And I just think, how much better would everyone's experience be with a good mixture of old school/new school songs.

And then I think of my favorite campus bar, Max's. Great songs. No liquor, all beer, one pool table, like four booths and still packed every weekend. I want to point the success towards the selection of music a bunch of drunk collegiates can lose themselves (and their voices) in! Nothing beats the memory of Shannon aka Shay-Bug doing a awkward, spirited dance for the song, "Shout."

You know what? Illegal thoughts flash through my mind. Like what if I karate chopped the owner of this shitty shitty bar named The Space Room and threatened his family harm if he didn't oblige to a better set of tunes. Yeah, that sounds about right. Add some crowd-friendly anthems from Weezer and maybe sprinkle in some hard rock gems from Guns N' Roses. Not hard. But then I realize...shitty music defines dive bars.

Playing two or three songs in succession from the same artist is perfectly acceptable. Well not only acceptable, it's expected. A wretched smile pains my face as Queen's "We Will Rock You" was followed by "Fat Bottomed Girls." Ideally, played in Meghan's departure (the only friend I know who has an ungodly obsession with Freddie Mercury). The rest of the night played out like a bad dream, but I can't help look back with a chuckle. Kory, my best friend, entertained his lady friend while I found myself lost between Britney Spear's Blackout and Souja Boy's one-hit wonder.

I have every intention to burn a CD and leave it on the counter anonymously to see if anyone might be interested in playing something with a bit more credibility. So while I find myself single for the first time in awhile, I feel I've taken on music as my mistress and God forbid she be dressed in this whorish costume. She needs to be streamlined and free to evolve and express distinct creativity. Anything else would be sacrilege.

God...I've become a musical elitist.

Finally.



P.S. - How one typo can destroy a beautiful post. Yes, I just realized that I meant to say no liquor. All Beer. Thank you for the fact checkers! And while some may make certain allegations that I enjoy some lesser forms for music - this is true. I think that was the point. Almost every song had a certain memory attached like Prince's "Little Red Corvette." Meghan and I giggled as we recounted almost driving Jonathan to the brink of insanity, dancing in place as we jostled the car ever closer to our icy death. It was just the mix and the mood that was conjured. It was odd and ill-placed. Certainly not one that I would have wanted for this dark nightmare.



This.Is. Truth.

A Spirited Beginning

And just as you feel that your music became a bit stagnate, a band like Delta Spirit comes along.

I haven't been quite this excited about in awhile. A pinch of Dylan mixed with a sliced wedge of The Kinks and then sprinkle a bit of Vampire Weekend and you get this lovable, fierce rocket that calls itself Delta Spirit. Named after guitarist Jonathan Jameson's great uncle's business entitled, "Delta Spirit Taxidermy Station of North Central America." After a much needed shortening, Jameson and Brandon Young found lead singer Matthew Vasquez busking at two in the morning, and after exchanging information, was introduced as the lead singer.

With the pieces in place and San Diego as the backdrop, Ode to Sunshine commenced. What came out is something I can't quite put my finger on. Hailed as Americana/soul, the echoes of Dylan come rushing at a quickening pace. The fragility and determination summoned into an utterance by Vazquez is special to behold. And as light and airy as the songs feel, the weight and direction of Vazquez's quips can be heard no harder than in "People C'mon." The near frantic cry for soul searchers within the song should give any listener goosebumps.

Peter, Paul, and Mary come to mind only because as the beauty in their melodies became the driving force behind their success, they covered songs that had political weight. THAT to me, is the difference between Delta Spirit and other counterparts i.e. Vampire Weekend, Cold War Kids, and Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! Each song feels dramatically more important to the grand scale of things. And as they weave these songs that could quietly set any childhood memory, there is a certain grit that makes this lemonade bitter to consume quite so superficially.

"Trashcan" becomes the uproarious single that could get a paraplegic to dance for joy. Too much? Perhaps, but the ivory keys seem to take this skeleton and really get it moving. Almost vaudevillian, it screams to be the bed in Charlie Chaplain's world, or maybe in some small town musical. It feels the narration to some dysfunction family or Utopian world flipped upside down.

Beneath the infectious melodies, Vazquez sings of inner strength in his mother's departure and his tale of survival. "When my mother left, the bat was the only one here/He is the only reason I am still here." And through this retelling you become involved with his story and passion. In the tambourine-heavy track, "Streetwalker," Vazquez croons of darkness in every corner of the world to which he asks, "Why can't I feel for you?/They lie, what can I do?" The emotional brevity is almost too much to explore in one song, but somehow it gets done.

And maybe that's the thing that gets me about these guys. The bitter honesty isn't sugary. The stories are rugged and seemingly aged. Wise comes to mind and the songs support the theory that they've seen far too much at such an age. It's a dangerous sentiment to be compared to Dylan, but there is no contemplation after hearing, "People, Turn Around." The story-telling capability of Vazquez mixed with his emotional bravado cannot be mistaken for anything else than his best Bob impersonation. But I suppose if some carpenters can brag about choosing a career that Jesus endured, a little band from San Diego can try to find their own light, even when draped in such a tremendous shadow.

Best Tracks - "Trashcan" "People C'mon" "Strange Vine" "People, Turn Around"


8.5/10


This. Is. Truth.

Deep Water...

There are many adjectives that can be used for Beth Gibbons' voice. With tracks like "Roads" and "Sour Times," her voice will go down as perhaps the most sultry voice ever recorded. And while Portishead may have seen their legacy capitalized a decade ago, there is a song on Third that strikes a tremendous chord within my spirit.

Whenever I listen to it, I am overwhelmed with tranquil images. One would not be morbid enough to envision one own's death, but if this blog supersedes time and someone is able to read this upon my death bed, I think it would be a beautiful song to fit my demise. Only 1:31 minutes, it lasts just long enough to leave an imprint like a step in the sand, but light enough for the wind to eventually blow away the remnants.

The mandolin lightly plucks along as Gibbons sounds as fragile as she ever has. And somehow sandwiched between tracks so mechanical in nature, this would cut the album in half. Beautifully insecure. And at any moment, I've learned that being human is being in love with one's flaws. We are woefully incomplete and this is never felt more profoundly than in one's passing. And no matter how hard or jagged the path, there is always an eye to our storm and "Deep Water" serves its purpose admirably.

So while the insecurity may play through, it is the subtle strength that is jarringly present that offsets the morbid mood. "Somehow turn me around/No matter how far I drift/Deep Waters/Won't scare me tonight..." There is never anything I fear because, honestly, there is no path. Just an ocean of possibility and deep waters won't scare me ever again.



This. Is. Truth.

A Fall to Earth

I keep telling people that Portland is cool. Portland is the new New York, right? The in flux of youth and a burgeoning creative melting pot for any and every Indie band looking to make it big is drawing a music scene that supports artistic individuality. As those sentiments start to become realized to the rest of the world, one band has been holding it down since the mid-90s. And how Dandy they are!

The first album since leaving Capitol Records, Earth to the Dandy Warhols... is almost a slap in the face to any devout listener for the last decade. Yet, for any new listener to the Dandy's this may be a refreshing swallow. The Warhols are known for changing it up, dramatically. The difference between Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia and Welcome to the Monkey House were significantly pronounced. Their ability to start out as college rock to garage rock to synth-heavy androids to...a well psychodelic/folksy sound. Courtney Taylor is more breathy here than Janet Jackson in "Rope Burn," and sometimes it actually works.

In "Love Song," the band sets this folky, jam band soundscape against Taylor's sweet, whispered vocals. Everything feels effervescent and while you'd love to hear a more pronounced Warhols sound, this sound uses their knack to incorporate different influences into honest work. While the Warhols are criticized for perhaps imitating their influences wholesale without creating individuality, the sheer number of different sounds they are able to create sets them apart from near anyone else. Granted, there is something to be said for the mastery of a single sound.

From the offset, "The World Come On" itself becomes a bit of a teaser for old-school fans. One of the album's most upbeat songs besides "Valerie Yum" features the bevy of Warhol-like screams and euphanisms. It, in turn, becomes their most forgettable song as well. The group must have sat around the Odditorium to brainstorm a fuzzy, garbled mess for an opener, because the pure sonic disaster may be enough to scare off the casual listener at first notice. One of their influences, Kevin Shields and My Bloody Valentine came up with a way to use swirling guitars to create a soundscape never quite actualized before. During tracks like "Wasp In the Lotus," "Talk Radio," and "And Then I Dreamt of Yes," I can definitely hear Loveless playing as mentor in the background. The swirling guitars masking Taylor's vocals work well as the Warhols channel their inner-shoegazer.

The oddest track on the album may come in "Mission Control" as it feels like a misplaced B-side to Orgy's Candyass. The one synth-heavy track feels at odds with the rest of the album, therefore losing a lot of its relevance. However, through its faults lies another piece to the Warhols' mystical puzzle. While the beginning of the album lacks, it gains steam throughout the middle and "Beast of All Saints" and "Valerie Yum" are surprisingly hearty.

Rating a Warhol album is like trying to pick a favorite Beatles song. There are so many genres, moods, and presentations that it is hard to throw a cohesive blanket over the makeshift beast. One song brings back shades of Weezer while the next Pink Floyd. The Warhols find some of their best work within "Valerie Yum" and "Welcome to the Third World" which features the sardonic, witty Taylor in his element.

Andy Warhol created pop art and the Dandy Warhols took pop music and created art fused with sounds and legends of the past. What helps is just that they are so fucking cool. This will not be their best album by a long shot, but damn it if they don't sound cool nonetheless. From the the repetition of the words "Val" and "Yum" in super slo-mo in "Valerie Yum"...get it? Taylor is not foreign to making fun of their own song-crafting ability. Ironically, Andy Warhol also was the originator of the phrase, "15 minutes of fame," and the Dandy's, while lending a decade of solid music, may be on borrowed time.


Best Tracks - "Talk Radio" "And Then I Dreamt of Yes" "Valerie Yum"


6/10


This. Is. Truth.

The Life And Times of Scott Stapp....

I will say this only once so read carefully:

Creed might be one of the best bands of all-time.

MIGHT BE.

I know the first thing to do when you hear the name, "Creed" is probably projectile vomit towards the nearest radio, instrument, or computer, but I point you to the facts. The local startup band out of Tallahassee, Florida only released three albums. Each one achieved platinum status with Human Clay selling over 11 million albums in the U.S. alone! That ranks as the 54th best selling album of all time. Sure you could say that the CD was a smash hit because of single, "Higher" and "With Arms Wide Open," but they followed it with six times platinum smash hit, Weathered.

You could cite Britney Spears as evidence for mega selling albums with lackluster talent truly deserving the numbers, but Scott Stapp and Co. deserves more credit than that. They had a subtle knack for punching power chords during verses and choruses while switching to acoustic plucks during a bridge to create an ambiance unique to their own. Pearl Jam Lite might be their alias. Rising from their ashes, Creed became a welcome head-banging, fist-clenching, remembrance of the Seattle quartet. From the guttural over-enunciated, all-too-familiar vernacular of Scott Stapp to the religious anecdote in every other line, Creed developed a formula that set the standard in the late 90s rock scene. They created beautiful music fused with crashing violins that Pearl Jam could only dream of achieving. They crafted songs with arena-sized sounds. Truly epic was what they aimed for.

As a test, I listened to their entire discography in one sitting from "Torn" (My Own Prison) to "Lullaby" (Weathered) to see how the songs stood against the test of time. It's probably been several years since I've revisited the songs with a critical ear. Practically all of My Own Prison seems bloated and easily discarded besides perhaps because it was recorded on a $6,000 budget but, "What's This Life For," stands as a preface to what Creed would eventually become. A Heavy/Alt group that used Stapp's vocals in juxtaposition with echoed effects and Tremonti's backup vocals. It also features their knack to break into a lighter, acoustic bridge eventually leading into a heavy, layered sound that highlights their "inspirational" message.

Chances are if you didn't like "Higher" or "With Arms Wide Open," you aren't going to like them now, but in terms of heavy rock ballads, Creed had some of the best ever. Lyrically, this band does nothing to change the landscape at all, but from the first track to the last track on Human Clay, it never seems to lose its pace or relevance to the overall album. While they get a knock for sounding repetitious, each song digs its own groove and honestly, this album still stands out as a gem in the post-grunge alt/rock world. "What If," "Never Dies," and "Inside Us All" are standouts besides the smash hits.

Weathered stayed atop the charts for 8 straight weeks which is almost unheard of in recent history. Starting an unrelenting attack with the doomed single, "Bullets," the album gathered momentum with "Who's Got My Back?" and "My Sacrifice." Perhaps the most beloved track, "Don't Stop Dancing" features Stapp's sister, Amy Stapp. Following their enigmatic formula, this song often capitalizes the beauty in their streamlined approach to crafting a song. It's hard to just fathom how they could take such mediocre melodies and get as much out of it as they did. I'm sure their producer, John Kurzweg, deserves a big amount of that credit.

Regardless of the accolades, their legacy will undoubtedly fade as they were only able to keep the harmony for a handful of years, but Scott Stapp will forever be one of the most polarizing figures in history. I don't know if it's a scientific fact, but it seems that men with butt chins aren't received with much fanfare and the belief stays true in this case as well. The hate he and his clefted chin accrues seems a bit unnecessary, but understandable. The band misstepped here and there. Most of it being summed up by this God-awful video: Bullets. If you made it all the way through that video...you're better than me. Somehow the image of Stapp with wings will never quite leave my life alone. Stapp is pretentious, egotistical, melodramatic, and hypocritical, but will remain one of my favorite frontmen ever. And with the notch of selling almost 20 million albums in the U.S., I don't think I'm the only one.

Which begs to ask the question...given a couple more albums to their resume, could have Creed been the best band ever?


"What If" - my favorite single
"With Arms Wide Open" - 2001 - Best Rock Song (Grammy and most critically acclaimed single)


This. Is. Truth.

Top 100 Songs...

I always listen to a song on iTunes and LOVE IT so damn much I wanna put it in some kind of mythological "Top 10, 50, or 100" list. I feel like I've said it about a million things...so in effort to really weigh out how I feel about the songs I "love" at the moment...I'm going to start writing them down as soon I feel strongly enough to give them that connotation.

So at the moment, I feel that "Roses" by OutKast is on my top 100 favorite songs ever. My favorite part? "Crazy Bitch...Crazy Bitch...Crazy Bitch...Stupid Ass Bitch...Old Dumbass Bitch...A Bitch's Bitch...haha...I could go on.

B.O.B. goes down as well, just because it is the only thing that gives my life meaning sometimes. Just kidding...but I tend to love songs that have a choir. You can blame Sister Act 2 for that!

Mark it down.

1-100: "Roses" and "B.O.B." by OutKast


This. Is. Truth.

Kate Havnevik

Someone asked me what was going on with my blog and my apathy shouldn't be a reason I'm not updating this thing. I think the daunting nature of trying to steamline all these posts have made it more difficult to actually post more so I'm giving up on that for now. I haven't been in the position to buy new music for awhile. I'm really falling out of the scene. And trust me, thousands of dollars later...I can tell you it is very expensive to stay in the scene.

I do want to talk about an artist that I like, however. You may have heard of her without even knowing it because the song, "Timeless" as well as five other tracks have appeared on Grey's Anatomy. I still feel that she deserves a proper introduction into the music scene even though Melankton was released in 2006. Born in Oslo, Norway, her album has been described as classical meets electronica meets trip/hop.

For some reason, tonight, I have found myself listening to "Unlike Me" over and over again. There is just such a foreboding tempo to all her songs. The pacing between the lyrics and melody really builds an underlying tension throughout a lot of her songs. I think it is beautifully constructed. One of the most notable producers on this album is Guy Sigsworth (Frou Frou), who has worked with Imogen Heap, Alanis Morissette, and Madonna. You can totally channel "Hide and Seek" while listening to some of the tracks. The echo-ey goodness of Havnevik's voice disappearing into volumes of space while resonating like waves on a beach is one of Sigsworth's trademarks. Too bad whenever I think of "Hide and Seek," I think of O.C.'s Ryan (Ben McKenzie) watching as Marissa (Misha Barton) shoots and kills his brother, whom, oh by the way, was about to kill him. God, I miss that show...

"There is no time," she keeps repeating in the refrain. "Time doesn't really exist." This song really hits hard. Time has ceased to move since I've moved home. Yet, I find myself here on August 16th without a real means or motivation. I am so stagnant. But there is no time. Time is so irrelevant. It isn't time that is calling for change, it is my circumstances. I just bought a new videogame and spilled juice on my controller the next day... I wrap up my summer in that connotation.

USA plays Spain in about 20 minutes so I'm off. But give Kate Havnevik's Melankton a spin if you are a fan of Grey's Anatomy, Imogen Heap, or Frou Frou. She sits right in that vein and I find her to be a special treasure the more I listen to it.


This. Is. Truth.

Downtown Culture Meets My Inner Sanctum

I woke up yesterday knowing I had my most important interview yet. An internship with Portland Monthly hanging in the balance. I don't know what fascinates me about magazines, but the self-exploration one must go through to challenge its readers with stories that range from the mundane to the spectacular appeals to me. It was hot yesterday and I figured I would take the MAX to cross the river. Whenever public transportation is involved, music is a must. Plus, I find that music calms my soul enough to allow me to be the confident person I know I am inside.

Most times I'll shuffle it cause I find that sometimes, my iTouch has some mysterious way of knowing which songs I want to hear in specific moments, but it was M.I.A.'s Kala to start out. Knee-deep in "The Turn," I heard my name drifting amongst the music. I instinctively look up and see my "buddy," Desmond from high school. The only thing shadier than this kid's life might be the oddly-disturbing color his hair has turned after several failed dye jobs. But there was my turquoise-topped friend of mine sitting down next to me preparing to tell me how fucked up his life again. I kept "Paper Planes" going in one ear as I playing the organ alongside his emotional parade. Briefly, I thought about the fact the "Paper Planes" is being used as the trailer theme to the movie "Pineapple Express" coming out tomorrow. That cheered me up immensely. I'd loved to leave my body and pull a Seth Rogen/Hulk Hogan splash on Desmond to silence his meanderings. As the MAX approached, he scampered off and I thankfully hid inside knowing my next meeting with him on some random street corner would be all too soon.

It was time for some Santogold. "I'm a Lady" feat. Trouble Andrew has quickly turned into one of my favorite songs in the past year. I never was a huge 80s fan, but she has quickly turned the page on that sentiment. Everything is sultry, aggressive, and light-hearted. That album is just beautifully crafted. I would need something of the kind when realizing the steel bridge is closed until the 25th! I had to take a connecting MAX shuttle over the Burnside and then catching the MAX downtown to continue the journey.

After losing myself a couple more times, I found Portland Monthly and put away Santogold for the interview. Only lasting 25 minutes, it was back to the pavement and getting back over the river. The pace and culture of downtown seemed sprawled out in front of me. I felt like a walking candy apple of sorts. While I realize I'm proportional, when I'm listening to music I feel so much weight around my ears and head. Everything is being processed up top and sometimes it manifests itself as pressure and weight. I feel a thousand miles away from my feet and torso and let the music float me to my predetermined destination.

I passed some girls with vibrant-colored hair (much better than Desmond's) and I switched up Santogold for Paramore. While Paramore may not do anything revolutionary, I am a sucker for girls with alternative tendencies. With Amy Lee, Haley Williams, Lacey Mosely, and Christina Scabbia leading my short list of female rockers, I think my obsession is really fascination. Fascination in the fact that African-Americans don't usually find themselves with girls like that and the unknown is always fun.

And then later the day I did meet her. In the form of Kate Winslet in the movie, "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." I understand why everyone always flips shit over the movie. Everyone who has just broken up with someone should see the movie. It amazingly puts everything in perspective. One of the best movies ever made, in my opinion. However, a multi-haired Winslet finds herself drawn to a stranger that she swears she has met before. The movie underlines human attraction and the dooming feeling to repeat our mistakes over again. But I love it because it is the mistakes that make up who we are.

It ended up being one of those days that looks as if it were themed with all the hair job references, but I think that's just how life goes. We have purpose and my music is just a catalyst for discovery. Objectivism states that we use our senses to build our own sense of reality. Music has become just as natural as smelling, touching, and seeing. And with it, I will build my world around me...


This. Is. Truth.