Pretty heavenly harmonizing enveloped in a slightly post-punk-ish groove, yes, this is a handsome thing. It’s also slightly reminiscent of the Split Enz classic “One Step Ahead”, all understatement, and melodic twists, and turns, and that’s a fine thing to be sure.
Can’t go wrong with a song named after a flammable liquid ( see: Miranda Lambert “Kerosene”)…but seriously, this is short, sweet, and tuneful, features the most gentle of vocals, and chugs along with a real grace.
Here’s a show of love from Guest Rediscover-er, Andy Moreno, of the Brooklyn Food Monkey blog. Take it away Andy….
Even though War’s “The World is a Ghetto”, was the #1 selling album in 1973, I don’t feel they’ve received their deserved accolades: they were, and are, a treasure. Recently I’ve been revisiting key albums from my brother’s 70’s record collection, ones that moved me enough to ultimately include them in my own pile. He’s 68 now, and battling liver cancer. This ritual helps me to feel close to him while examining that time from an older perspective.
Musically, the 70’s had so many faces, emotions, and ways of mirroring the world. Wherever you were in your life, there were bands to perfectly portray that place. War’s instrumental track “City Country City” is an excellent example of their moody variety of musicianship. Like a song recalling better days, Lonnie Jordan’s organ gives a gorgeous sundowning feel, before he lights it all on fire. That pairs just right with Lee Oskar’s slightly somber, and hypnotic, genius harmonica chorus. A sax solo was never so cool, with conga drums guiding you through it. In this song, you hear all the energy of youth, as reality and struggles pour in. For me, this multi-cultural blend of Latin, funk and jazz especially in both this album, and “All Day Music” (1971), perfectly echo the bleakness, and grace of my Midwest factory hometown.
“It’s Pretend”, jangles, and shines, is a little bit power pop, and a little bit Postcard ( Scottish label that was home to Aztec Camera, and Orange Juice in the 80’s). Also check out “Her Face” from last year above, for some joyful Suede like glitter, and romance. Make no mistake, these guys know their way around a tune.
Colourbox were an unusual, esoteric pop band that were on the 4ad label, and put out a grand total of 1 full length album, in 1985. It was a absolutely a pop record, with proper songs, and ear candy, but it also had an electronic tinge, and featured some nascent sampling experiments. It was unquestionably different, and sounded nothing like the other stuff that was big at the time ( that being Duran Duran, Culture Club and the like). The band consisted of Martyn, and Steven Young, who later went onto to fame, as part of M/A/A/R/S, creators of the massive “Pump up the Volume”, and a vocalist by the name of Lorita Grahame.
I stumbled upon them after reading a review of this song back in the day, their new single from summer of ’85, and bought it solely based on the positive review, without hearing it. When I did, I just fell in love, and couldn’t stop playing it. It sounds like the Ronettes in outer space, a big lush, melodic, and desperate waltz. And so here’s to it, 32 years later, and still a gorgeous thing.
“They say he’s got an ’81 Firebird, I’m still in my ’79”
( Paul Davis lyric from “Somebody’s Been Gettin’ to You”)
For me, that line kind of typifies the West Coast sound, a sound which during its 1978-1983 heyday, was as pervasive in the U.S. as hair metal was in later in the decade. During those years, the top 40 charts were littered end to end with the stuff. The “sound” was typified by supreme musicianship, slick production and melodic cleanliness, and the people that made it tended to be straight white guys within the age range of 25-35. And as the state of the art recording studios in Southern California were where the overwhelmingly majority of it was created, at some point, years later, it started getting referred to as West Coast. When it was actually happening, it was just pop music, but the latterly coined genre name and the sound are admittedly a perfect match.
As for the music itself, I loved it. It spoke to me in ways I did not understand since I had nothing in common with the people creating it or their life experiences ( I was also obsessed with soul man Billy Preston, so there you go). I listened religiously to Casey Kasem’s Top 40 on Sunday mornings with anticipation, hoping for a new smoothie to spend my allowance on. The deal was, if you had a neatly trimmed beard and were leaning on a sports car, in a crumpled yet clean linen suit, with the sun descending behind you on the cover, and your single was at least # 39 in the chart, I bought your record. I trusted you and I loved you. My big obsession for awhile was this guy named Robbie Dupree who turned out to be from Brooklyn, but to me, was the West Coast-iast of all the West Coasters. His self-titled 1980 album is full of sleek, lonely and lovelorn tunes, nearly all of which I just plain f-ing loved. I would play it endlessly whilst simultaneously attempting to draw portraits of Robbie’s sullen bearded face as he stared out sadly from the album cover.
Come on and hold me, just like you told me…
There’s been a major resurgence in the popularity of West Coast over the past handful of years. In 2014, the lovingly curated Too Slow to Disco compilations appeared on the scene, collecting favored vintage cuts by some of West Coast’s finest and garnering a surprising amount of attention and critical love from the requisite “tastemaker” music blogs and mags. Then in 2017, brilliant bass man Thundercat featured esteemed West Coast royalty Kenny Loggins and Michael McDonald on his super fine Drunk album. But of course it was the “Yacht Rock” phenomenon that really reignited the mass interest in the artists and songs of the West Coast world ( though the parameters of what qualifies as “Yacht” are ridiculously inconsistent…says a purist…me). It’s great that people are openly, brazenly loving these songs without guilt (as they should be) and artists that were “forgotten” are getting some attention. But the term “Yacht Rock” will never be an official part of my music vernacular. Never, because to me, especially teenage me, it’s never been an ironic joke. West Coast forever baby.
And with that here’s a playlist of spineless, wussy and awesome songs that continue to shine as brightly as a million suns, to play in your ’79 Firebird, as you drive to 7-11. They’re just waiting to be found…
The initial thing that came to mind upon hearing this was Nico, without the steely voice, and arcane lyrics. And so, I wasn’t sure if I liked it at first, but gradually found myself getting hypnotized by it’s austere simplicity. And the little melodic change in the middle is really fine.
Drinker is Aaron Mendelsohn and Ariel Loh, and this is lonely, moody, and not a million miles away from Chromatics. It’s a lean beauty.
If you ever wondered what uniting the tuneful, harmonic perfection of , what I imagine are heaven’s 2 favorite bands, Abba, and the Cocteau Twins, would sound like, here it is, and it is very, very good.
Toy Savoy describe themselves as “noisy kind of pop music from the middle of cold, cold Norway”. This track is noisy in the way the best Britpop was noisy, as in, it’s not remotely noisy…but it’s as melodic, and infectious as any single that emerged from the scene in 1995 . Extra points are awarded for their mention of “beans and rice”.