Search results for: sunny day real estate

Pylon: Chomp More

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Review_Pylon-LargePylon
Chomp More

(orig: DB, 1983; re: DFA, 2009)

I regretfully begin this review with the news that earlier this year Pylon guitarist Randy Bewley died at 53 following a sudden heart attack, and didn’t live to see his band’s masterpiece turned into an expanded version and digitally remastered re-release by way of DFA. With the legendary ’80s post-punk band officially kaput, it’s a shame that even a boost by James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem couldn’t garner them a taste of the band-reunion resurgence now enjoyed by the Pixies, Mission of Burma, and Sunny Day Real Estate, among others.

Pylon was as basic as their titles: Gyrate, Chomp, “Cool”, “Beep”, “K.” They made colorful, danceable art from single notes dropped into the air like little guitar stabs, blobs for bass lines, and monosyllabic, pre-Björk grunts and wheezes from front-cavewoman Vanessa Briscoe Hay. They had pop moments—the R.E.M.-covered “Crazy”, included here, is a high point—but mostly they functioned as proto-geniuses of punk rock rhythm and vamp. It’s a little odd that this re-release of Pylon’s sophomore release, Chomp, didn’t come out alongside 2007’s wondrous Gyrate Plus beef-up. Chomp took the frenzied elements of the debut and squeezed (not polished) the band into an identity more removed from their more familiar elements. Perhaps that made them uncomfortable. However, the lack of a center is glorious: Frameworks like “Yo-Yo” and “K” are deceptively skeletal, bumped by subtleties of ingenious atmosphere built on spry harmonics instead of the usual chords and bass lines over melodies.

“Beep” split the difference between the Time and PJ Harvey; the latter it beat by almost 10 years. Bewley’s scratch guitar wasn’t without James Brown’s spirit when it underpinned Briscoe Hay growling “Four minutes! Four minutes!” over and over before a long “meoooooooooow” took it to the, er, bridge. “Italian Movie Theme” pays tribute to their Athens hometown’s fellow new-wave oddballs in the B-52’s, while the airy yet beat-oriented “No Clocks” doesn’t sound too far off from actual hits by, say, ‘Til Tuesday. The bonus tracks here aren’t revelatory, like the “Cool”/”Dub” single affixed to the Gyrate reissue, but they’re nice to have: A “male version” of “Yo-Yo” with Briscoe Hay’s slowed-down vocals, a seven-inch version of “Crazy”, and a time-fucked remix of “Gyrate.” The extra-fucked “Four Minutes” (which is actually six) could’ve been left on the studio shelf, but I’m more grateful for the cult classic’s availability plus superfluous bonus reel than have to wait another 26 years to hold it in my hand.

Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]

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published: November 3, 2009 in column: Reviews

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The Pixies/Fugazi/Sonic Youth Syndrome

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Courtesy of Ryan WasobaLet me describe myself as a demographic. I am a 25-year-old white male from the Midwestern United States. I attended college and I play guitar in an indie-rock band. I wear thick glasses and I think “Smells Like Teen Spirit” is a pretty good song. Now here’s the shocking part: I don’t really like the Pixies.

This isn’t to say I haven’t tried. I’ve worn through a few burned copies of Surfer Rosa and there is exactly one moment in So Many Dynamos history where the song “Bone Machine” is an influence (the drums on “Artifacts of Sound” from 1:50 to 2:03). But still, I tend to only gravitate towards the band’s singles; I’m a “Where Is My Mind?”/”Here Comes Your Man” kind of guy. When Griffin drove the final shift of our band’s most recent tour and sent the Pixies from his iPod into the cassette tape adapter, I got sort of excited upon hearing the introductory riff to “Debaser.” Alas, I lost interest halfway through “Monkey Gone to Heaven.” Given the implied significance of the Pixies to my demographic, it’s frustrating that Doolittle does so little for me.

I noticed a certain phenomenon when I was younger, which I called “The Fugazi Syndrome.” The 18-year-old version of myself adored Q and Not U and was shocked to hear folks rip on them because they sound too much like a band I’d heard-of-but-never-heard, Fugazi. I checked out the band’s records and I didn’t get it at all. The guitars hit at all of the same angles, but Fugazi just seemed so bleak and lonesome, far from the playfulness that drew me into No Kill No Beep Beep

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published: August 24, 2009 in column: Livin the Dream

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Jeremy Enigk

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Jeremy EnigkJeremy Enigk
OK Bear
(Lewis Hollow, 2009)

Jeremy Enigk may have written my favorite song of all time, “Guitar and Video Games.” Like most fanboys, I prefer Enigk’s old stuff to his new stuff. This drop-off is easier to illustrate with the two baffling opening titles from the solo album that officially marks as much work with Sunny Day Real Estate as not: “Mind Idea” and “Late of Camera.” But we’ve let him get away with this before. His most famous group was full of mystery, from once refusing to tour California and painting a whole album pink, to songs about doubles tennis and headless teddy bears. The bombastic delivery could send one on spiritual quests for the ears, with tricky basslines and unexpected codas and whatever was ultimately necessary to thrust the whole of my beliefs into his cryptic tunes.

OK Bear lacks Enigk’s sophisticated melodicism and vocal acrobatics, making any pretensions on his part a grievance to forgive at this point. “Mind Idea” turns out to be attached to a pulsating piano figure with strung-together phrases for skewed adornment: “Whispering loud and clear / The secret unsafe / Highway sprawl / The nations die.” His bored delivery doesn’t help. Rather than singing or screaming the tune, Enigk gargles the vocals like some backwashed half-spawn of Syd Barrett. In 1993, his moan was something to hang onto. Here, it’s harder to discern the point of passion in the songwriting, which is rather one-place-to-the-next. “Late of Camera” follows in the same vein, with notes that hang in the air rather than sink down on a beat, all textural wash with no musical target. And it sounds like it’s got circa-’67 Maureen Tucker on drums, which is a terrible match for Enigk. The inexplicably named “Sandwich Time” has horns in the breakdown and hints at a belated sense of humor, but still revolves around a tired plea to “atone your heart.”

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published: May 19, 2009 in column: Reviews

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SXSW: Day Two

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Tweak Bird: photo courtesy of Tweak Bird's MySpace page

SXSW: Day Two
March 19th, Austin, Texas

Today, I embraced the fact that I have a bike with a lock at my disposal. I showered up early and sped off to the Convention Center for a panel called “Bloggers are in Charge.” Unlike probably 75 percent of the SXSW community these days, I actually like these things. You never know when you might run in to Michael Azzerad. Did I learn anything? Not really. But I got to sit next to a Scottish guy in a kilt who was furiously bouncing back and forth from his Twitter feed to his various news and music sources on his laptop. That’s the kind of people you want to experience at these panels. You may not know people like this, but they exist and are dope. So yeah, bloggers are the voice of the modern music generation. They write about what they like. They consider themselves to be the modern-day record store clerk. Yada yada. Unfortunately, there’s no panel in sight about how actual music magazines are finding their way in an online world, a much more confounding topic that could lend itself to some really interesting discourse. Baffling, but whatevers…

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published: March 21, 2009 in column: It Shows

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