Spectrum Culture: The Tragedy of Arthur by Arthur Phillips

My new book review on Spectrum Culture, a postmodern fable called The Tragedy of Arthur by Arthur Phillips:

http://spectrumculture.com/2012/04/the-tragedy-of-arthur-by-arthur-phillips.html/

Spectrum Culture: Allo Darlin', Europe

New on Spectrum Culture, I review the new record from the London band Allo' Darlin. It's fun:

http://spectrumculture.com/2012/04/allo-darlin-europe.html/

Spectrum Culture: The Best and Worst Candy

In honor of Easter ... the best and worst candy ever. I talk about how much I hate black jelly beans:

http://spectrumculture.com/2012/04/list-inconsequential-best-and-worst-candy.html/

Mini-Record Review: Tindersticks, The Something Rain

The Something Rain is a beautiful, creepy, atmospheric record from a British band that really knows what they’re doing. Tindersticks has been around since 1993. Vocalist Stuart Staples and company have been leading their listeners through a labyrinth of abstract lyrics, lounge-inflected melodies, jazz-inspired grooves, and jam band-worthy song structures for years. For their ninth LP, we are treated to what might just be their most mature, enticing effort to date.

What other indie band working today could get away with starting a record with a nine-minute spoken-word tale? “Chocolate” is wildly accessible because of the enchanting guitar melodies accompanying the story and the simultaneously shocking and humorous denouncement. In fact, it’s the band’s unique sound that carries us through the whole record, as weird or as downtrodden as it sometimes gets. “Show Me” features disco-era strings, a prominent Fender Rhodes, and acoustic bass backing up Staples’ troubled, trembling vocal. “This Fire of Autumn” proves that the glockenspiel still has a place in popular music. Lead single “Medicine” is a haunting ballad featuring an intriguing sonic concoction consisting of velvety lead vocals, cello, and tremolo-laced guitar. Unlike some records that lead with the strongest tracks, The Something Rain ends with its three most engaging songs: “Frozen,” a slightly avant-garde tune of pure desire with the repeated line, “If I could just hold you, hold you;” “Come Inside,” a ballad that is so smooth you can practically feel it touching your skin; and “Goodbye Joe,” an instrumental that could have been lifted from a Quentin Tarantino soundtrack. It’s inspiring to see a band as tried and true as Tindersticks still taking risks and making beautiful art. What will they think of next?

Mini-Record Review: Lambchop, Mr. M

I’ll be the first to admit that Lambchop is not always an easy band to like. Frontman Kurt Wagner has been working with a rotating cast of players for the past fifteen years. While Wagner first emerged in the mid-90s as part of Nashville’s alt-country scene, he has incorporated elements of post-rock, soul, and lounge music into the mix. His vocals are full of odd ticks and his tracks are often backed by old-fashioned, almost syrupy, strings. Wagner is either admirable or maddeningly stubborn in his refusal to conform to expectations associated with the words “alt-“or “indie.” I’ve admittedly jumped on the Lambchop bandwagon rather late, since I haven’t really been familiar with the artist’s work until the past few months. The more I listen to new release Mr. M, though, the more I think it’s a mature, beautiful work of art, one that is significant outside of the context of the band’s varied oeuvre.

Wagner writes about the travails and pleasures of everyday life in a way that defamiliarizes the ordinary. “If Not I’ll Just Die” is seemingly about an awkward, tedious extended family holiday gathering; “2B2” is about the challenges of long-distance relationships. Yet, Wagner finds a way to make these ordinary subjects seem extraordinary through his poetic language. A sunset over a little country church is referred to as feeling “a lot like Little Jimmy Dickens.” The wine “tasted like sunshine in the basement.” The sky “opened up like candy.” As for the music, well, let’s just say nobody is rocking out to this record. It’s definitely the kind of thing you listen to on a quiet, dark morning or a moment of personal contemplation. At the right time, though, it sounds like one of this year’s greatest musical achievements so far.

Listen on Spotify:
http://open.spotify.com/album/5jIMNS1NP5sFkagCXvFiak

Mini-Record Review: Hospitality, S/T

Just when you think there’s nothing new to say about post-graduate angst, Amber Papini and her band Hospitality give us “Liberal Arts,” a song about that melancholy feeling experienced by humanities majors upon working hard to complete a degree that allows them to work for minimum wage at the local coffee shop. Papini sings, “"So you found the lock/ But not the key that college brings/ And all the trouble of your B.A. in English literature/ Instead of law, or something more practical." Hospitality could almost be viewed as a sequel to Vampire Weekend. They have made a record about what happens when the Ivy League bubble is burst and the “real world” comes crashing in. Indeed, this is material worthy of the blog Stuff White People Like or the latest Wes Anderson film. Somehow, Papini and company make this tried and true material work. The success of Hospitality’s debut LP is a testament to the power of the music, light, poppy fare that nevertheless has a bite to it.


The band is at their peak when they give us strong melodies and slightly unpredictable chord progressions. There’s definitely an element of twee in tunes like “Eighth Avenue” and “Friends of Friends,” but the sincerity of the lyrics transcends the “cuteness.” The record lags a bit when it slows down. “Julie” and “Argonauts” go on just a bit too long. Still, nothing beats pure fun, and Hospitality makes cardigan rock sound pretty sweet.

Listen on Spotify:
http://open.spotify.com/album/0CcRg0EwFcCKw99gLIcOCQ

Money Is Anything

Once, you told me

When the sky closes for the night

Over that river, you know, the one with the fast food wrappers,

It feels a lot like the last track of With the Beatles.

That’s all I wanted.

To hear.


By: Jake Adams