Steve Burns – Songs for Dust Mites

Steve BurnsSongs for Dust Mites (Pias America)

When he asked, he got answers. The defining elements of Nickelodeon’s wildly popular “Blue’s Clues” were the expectant pauses of host Steve Burns, stretches of still screen and silent air when he offered a striped-shirt Mona Lisa smile after posing a question to his audience. As he waited patiently, a flurry of activity would erupt in living rooms the world over as his young viewers triumphantly reported that they’d found it – Blue’s clue was in the left corner! On the table! The answer was always within arm’s reach.

And then it wasn’t – for Burns, anyway. After five years of gamboling with singing eating utensils and entrancing children in 60 countries, he walked away from the show in 2001 (or “went to college,” in the show’s typical educational prodding to its devotees). Released from the technicolor pup’s leash, he disappeared into the real-world playground – and surfaced years later with an admirable, sweeping rock album.

Songs for Dustmites is a space-case of an indie album. Softly orchestrated with ambrosial strings and techy effects, it kicks up the dust that settled after Yoshimi battled the pink robots – and not coincidentally, as the Flaming Lips’ Steven Drozd and Michael Ivins played a part in the album’s creation (with production and bass, respectively). The mostly mid-tempo, progressive tracks saunter along with folk and americana leanings, often turning to single piano and guitar lines before transitioning entirely to vocal emphasis. The resulting sound is an intimate, if sometimes melodically fragmented, pattern that binds the entire album together well and pulls attentive ears towards Burns’s arresting, gently serrated croon.

Always the costar, Burns’s strong presence cedes to his pacific self-doubt. The roaring opening track, “Mighty Little Man,” (ram, asx) sounds less an acceptance of the juicebox icon’s slight stature than a conscious, not-quite-smiling nod to his internal shortcomings. “What I Do On Saturday,” (ram, asx) possibly the catchiest track and also the best example of the singer’s distinctive warble, repeats resolutely and nonchalantly, “I’m just a boring example of everybody else.” The other songs follow a similar self-deprecating bent, though they snap back upright before the moaning reaches crescendo, and flow fluidly with nary a glaring weak spot.

Songs for Dustmites is a solid soundtrack for the grown-up that isn’t done growing. It inspires a sort of maternal pride in the knowledge that Burns, after years of waiting for answers, found his own musical talent to fill the silence. God knows he looked around enough.

The Hives Make a Beautiful Mess

The HivesThe Hives with Sahara Hotnights at Metro

July 27, 2004, Chicago

By unanimous decision, the crowd at the packed Metro made Hives frontman Howlin’ Pelle Almqvist an honorary Chicagoan. We gave the Hives the key to the city. Well, Almqvist demanded it from us, and how could we say no? When the Hives tell you to cheer for them, you’ve got no choice but to give it up.

Continue reading The Hives Make a Beautiful Mess

RJD2 – Since We Last Spoke

RJD2Since We Last Spoke (Definitive Jux)

In the distant universe of the Musician, our group of super-heroes has two primary arch-enemies: Ambition and Expectation. These two foes attack our beloved protagonist by placing an incredible weight upon his or her shoulders, a Vulcan death grip, if you will. Only the strongest emerge victorious, and those who do not survive find themselves in Follow-Up Hell. We’ve seen it happen before to far too many promising prospects, with the media glaring down and fans anticipating bigger, faster, stronger; artists feel the need to do to much and more often then not wind up in pretty deep shit.

It seemed as if RJD2 had the tools to ward off these menacing creatures—Deadringer displayed a technique and tone that set the hip-hop world on its ear (forget about the DJ Shadow references, please). Since We Last Spoke is a different album entirely. Gone are the gray, vinyl-cracking-between-the-notes samples and ankle-snapping tempo changes that made Deadringer so heralded. This is hardly even a hip-hop album—most of the tones and techniques employed within Since We Last Spoke reach for synthy sounds and IDM ideologies instead of tried-and-true scratching and spitting (records and rhymes, that is—not balls and saliva). Despite the fact that RJ’s moody and ambient leanings were mated perfectly within the confines of Deadringer‘s jazzy blue-notes, RJ uses far more unusual styles this time around. “Making Days Longer” is his most radical turn, and also his most successful. The song is unlike anything you could ever imagine coming from the man, featuring delicately placed blips and Postal Service-esque bells behind a straightforward vocal—this is something that belongs on Warp Records, not Def Jux’s hip-hop-hooray catalogue. The closest you get to Deadringer‘s foggy flow comes in the album’s second-half, where RJ continues to shun conventional beats but settles into a beautifully pained groove.

RJ’s sense of melody and rhythm, part of the reason the underground embraced Mr. Krohn like they did, is like no other. He hasn’t instantaneously given up those skills, and his texturing processes match Deadringer‘s. The difference with Since is the decision making of what sounds to use, and an effort to take on as much as possible within the album’s twelve tracks. This bravery is refreshing, especially considering the success rate of most artists who try complete stylistic makeovers. RJ finds his own magic tucked in genres and styles neglected by the rest of the world.

While it’s hard not to be disappointed by Since We Last Spoke at first, listen to it more and you’ll find an solid and inventive work from someone not willing to be pigeonholed in a certain class. The ethereal crooning and well-layered sound comes from a heartbroken first-person point-of-view. Much like Prefuse 73’s amazing One Word Extinguisher, Since We Last Spoke is a breakup album. And with the appearance of RJ as a capable singer, his point comes across much clearer. “Making Days Longer” laments over lonliness: “It’s nice to hear you say ‘Hello’ / And ‘How are things with you’ / But pretty soon it’s time to go / An office job to do / And I’ll be writing songs for you.”

It may not be obvious at first, but Since We Last Spoke is as well-rounded and creative a record as you’re going to find this year. Copywrite’s plea of “RJD2 drop that shit so I can drop my thoughts” may go unanswered this time around, but in the process RJ has crafted a love letter to all music—not just the celebrated. By unearthing a beauty in forms never thought to have contained any, RJD2 has crafted his own diamond in the rough.

Notes on the Viability of Imitation

Nobody knows...I once attended a corporation-sponsored reception in Hollywood. As “entertainment” there were people who make their living—or at least part of it—through a physical- and costume-based resemblance to dead people. In this case, Marilyn Monroe, Lucille Ball, and Humphrey Bogart. The breathiness of Monroe, the zaniness of Lucy, and the ill-fitting-dentures-curtness of Bogey are all clues that we identify vis-à-vis the individuals’ personae. (I wonder what someone not familiar with Ball or Bogart would make of these versions; Marilyn is simply a universal: even if who she “is” isn’t recognized, what she is is evident.) During their “act” at the reception, they were not performing specific roles or scenes that are associated with the people whom they were imitating, nor were they even playing scripted roles. Instead, they borrowed distinctive cues that served as the basis of their imitations.

Continue reading Notes on the Viability of Imitation

Rock and roll can change your life.