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(11/10/15 4:27pm)
It was a couple weeks ago. I had just finished a particularly grueling two seasons of Call The Midwife (season 3, am I right??). I needed a rebound show. Just something light, something fun, something to take my mind off Nurse Jenny Lee and her cohort of baby-birthing midwives. In my emotionally vulnerable state, I stumbled across Jane the Virgin. At first it was just a fling. It meant nothing—at least that’s what I told myself. I mean, you don’t just go from the BBC to the CW. I was just having a little fun, you know? But then, I finished the first season in a matter of days. I started telling my friends about Jane the Virgin. “It isn’t like what you think it is! It’s so much better! It’s really smart, trust me.” All of the sudden, I was head over heels for this show. I didn’t plan this, but one rarely does.
If you haven’t had the pleasure of watching this show, here’s the rundown: Jane Villanueva lives in Miami with her mom and grandmother. She’s twenty-three and made the decision when she was young to wait until marriage to have sex (hence the title). She works at a hotel; she’s finishing up college; she has a cop boyfriend. Everything is great. UNTIL. She gets accidentally artificially inseminated. Yikes! What ensues is hilarious and dramatic and completely addicting.
Here’s the thing, Jane the Virgin is really smart. It’s based off of a Venezuelan telenovela. At first, the show is super self-deprecating about its origins. The characters watch telenovelas and remark about how preposterous the plot lines are. We’re all in on the joke. But then, slowly, before you really notice it happening, the same plot devices the characters were mocking start to happen within the show. And then by the time you’re midseason, you realize that you’re actually just watching a telenovela. The writers of Jane the Virgin have duped us all into watching a soap opera in primetime. I’d be mad if that wasn’t seriously brilliant. What makes this especially potent is the fact that the narrator never stops referencing telenovela gimmicks and he even explains what’s just about to happen, but somehow I’m still shocked! Hook, line and sinker, folks.
Another thing I love about Jane the Virgin is that most of the characters are bilingual, speaking both English and Spanish. It’s also refreshing to see a Latina woman who lives with two other Latina women head up a show. While I don’t think every episode would pass the Bechdel Test—a lot of the plot revolves around Jane debating which of the two seriously beautiful dudes hopelessly in love with her she should choose (I mean, same, right?). But a lot of the time she’s also deciding whether or not to continue her education if she has the baby, or she’s deciding if she should follow her dream of being a writer, or she’s taking care of her non-English-speaking immigrant grandmother. It’s not a beacon of feminist enlightenment, but there are some good things happening here.
As Mickey and Sylvia sang, love is strange. I didn’t anticipate being as into this show as I am. But I’m here to make a case that it’s actually a worthwhile show to binge on Netflix. Jane and I are in it for the long haul.
(11/09/15 12:15am)
Last week, I had the chance to talk with the very talented, extremely eloquent Mitski. The New York-based, classically trained musician gained critical acclaim after her third LP, Bury Me at Makeout Creek, was released November of last year and ripped our collective hearts out. In this interview, Mitski talks self-care on tour, having no chill, and Drake. Mitski will be at the Bishop on Nov. 17 with Palehound and PWR BTTM. Be there or be regretful for the rest of your life!
[embed]https://soundcloud.com/wiux-in-studios/wiux-talks-to-mitski/s-b4bCg[/embed]
(11/07/15 2:37pm)
Sunday night seems like a good night to go listen to some really tender songs, no? Lucky for us, NYC-based Florist is stopping by The Bishop to deliver us some heart-wrenchingly sincere tunes. The band's new EP Holdly, was released at the end of October and it's beautiful and introspective. If Florist's music existed in a physical space, it would be a room lit only by Christmas lights with a lot of blankets and probably hot chocolate.
Tagging along on this journey are Hello Shark and Bloomington's own, Follies. Hello Shark is made up of Linc Halloran, Sean Hood, and Alex Decato. Their pop/rock music is reflective, sentimental, and raw. The band's latest album, HS was released May of this year.
Follies is a one-person band comprised of Kate Siefker. The music is percussive and intricate, and it's kind of a wonder to see it being created right before your eyes.
This show promises to be an emotional rollercoaster. Show starts at 8, tickets are $8. If you need me, I'll be in the crowd somewhere, probably having a little cry.
You can listen to Florist here, Hello Shark over here, and Follies right here.
(11/04/15 10:23pm)
Calling all public radio nerds! The Moth storytelling program is hosting a StorySlam on November 4. Selected students will participate in workshops designed to strengthen their storytelling skills. On Wednesday, they will take turns telling a true five-minute story on the theme of choices. The slam will take place in the Wells-Metz Theatre on campus. The event is free, but space is limited. Doors open at 7:00 p.m. and stories begin at 7:30 p.m.
(11/03/15 12:47am)
Released October 30, 2015
6/7
Let's prolong summer at little bit longer, shall we? On their debut album, The Dongo Durango, aptly named Sun Club delivers summery, shimmery, raucous tunes sure to keep you warm all winter long. The eleven-track album is a lot of things: loud, extremely danceable, wild, occasionally demented, and fun from start to finish.
The Dongo Durango kicks off with an intro track that begins as a demonic sort of laugh-wheeze that turns into a multi-layered collage of noise and then resolves into "Summer Feet." The upbeat track sets the tone for the rest of the record. Vocals by Mikey Powers stand out for their distinctive intonation as he dips back and forth between singing and screaming. In fact, all of the tracks on the record seem to balance right on the verge of exploding--like once they've started, they can't slow down.
"Beauty Meat," "Summer Feet" and "Cheeba Swiftkick" come from the band's 2014 EP, Dad Claps at the Mom Prom. . They fit perfectly in the context of The Dongo Durango. The most summery song on the album, "Puppy Gumgum" is laced with warm guitar riffs and an expansive drumbeat. It’s reminiscent of Givers via In Light. This tune is the soundtrack to your impromptu cross-country road trip (which you documented with a Super 8 (if you needed an excuse to do this, here you go!)).
Standouts for me are "Language Juice" and "Dress Like Mothers." "Language Juice" is everything I find so appealing about Sun Club in one song. It's loud, rowdy, and they begin the song by unabashedly screaming nonsense noises. There's something really wonderful about a band being so wild with their sound. It's obvious that Sun Club is having a lot of fun making this music and that translates when you listen to The Dongo Durango.
"Dress Like Mothers" is impossible not to dance to--seriously every time I listen I try to make myself sit still and write this but I haven't succeeded yet. When Powers sings/shouts (fine line at this point), "You've got my attention, you're with me forever," it feels like both a relenting confession and a joyous declaration. The tune turns into a jam session that morphs into the final track, "Tropicoller Lease." The album ends on a high note, and Sun Club doesn’t loosen their grip until the last second. The Dongo Durango is exhausting, but in the best kind of way—that happy-tired you get from wearing yourself out dancing.
While all of the songs are bathed in the brightness of pop, there are undercurrents of less obviously happy themes, which contributes to the strength of this album. The more you listen to it, the more in unfolds, and twists and turns into something you didn't see before. In "Dress Like Mothers," they sing, "Within something bigger then I'll ever have a right to see//It's never simple as it's made to seem." This line is true for life in a broad sense, but also The Dongo Durango more specifically. To categorize it as just a fun pop album wouldn't be telling the whole story. It is that, but it’s also expansive, inviting and nuanced.
(10/28/15 9:21pm)
This past summer, I spent two months in Maine working on organic farms, swimming in lakes, and drinking a lot of 7% milk. While a lot of weird stuff happened (i.e. fleeing one farm, living with a surrogate family in New York for a week, emptying out a shared composting toilet), a lot of really important stuff happened too. My hands grew calloused and my arms grew strong. I drank really great coffee. I drove a red pickup truck through a hay field (so farm it hurts). Most importantly, I met some of the most magical people. There’s something about splitting logs, weeding lettuce, and tending to chickens that really just bonds people together. Added to my already sentimental disposition, I’m staring out the window, pining for the days when the gang would walk forty minutes into town just to get a bottle of Coke.
As I endure the marathon essay-writing session that is this semester, I miss the farms all the time. I miss the early mornings and being tired out of my mind by evening. I miss the dirt and the animals. I miss the people, who I carry around in my heart every day.
This playlist consists of songs that soundtracked this summer for me, and a few that have come to be associated with Maine through the hazy filter of nostalgia. (Can I be nostalgic for a few months ago? Can I be nostalgic for the dirty chai I had this morning? I say yes.)
(10/14/15 4:50pm)
Tomorrow night, Waxahatchee will light up The Bishop along with openers Weyes Blood and Try The Pie.
Katie Crutchfield has been making music as Waxahatchee since 2010. Her third album, Ivy Tripp was released last April to rave reviews. It's thirteen songs full of self-aware lyrics and Southern-inflected rock melodies. Waxahatchee's music is introspective and reflective. It's full of doubt about life, but presented so surely. She's not one to miss.
Weyes Blood (aka Natalie Merling) is dishing out dark folk songs from New York by way of pretty much everywhere. Her nomadic ways certainly inform her music, and you should definitely include her on your next roadtrip playlist. She's got a fresh little EP just out last week.
Try The Pie hails from San Jose, California. While sonically related to Waxahatchee, Try The Pie brings a little more punk to the party. Their latest LP, Domestication was released this past June by Salinas Records.
Show starts at 9:30 p.m. Tickets are $13 in advance and $15 at the door.
If you need a little something to tide you over until the show, watch Waxahatchee's Tiny Desk Concert from 2013.
[embed]http://https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ZngH2T395A[/embed]
(10/08/15 9:50pm)
On a cold, dreary morning in October I woke before dawn and prepared myself for the pilgrimage I would soon make. My traveling companion, Annabella and I were headed up to Indianapolis to take part in the third annual Caffeine Crawl--a driving tour of the city's best coffee spots, samples included. The morning would include six stops and just as many caffeinated beverages.
We began at Julian Coffee Roasters in Zionsville. The local roasting operation had a variety of their blends on tap. Annabella and I decided it would be best to pace ourselves, so we gravitated toward the upsettingly good pumpkin chai tea made by local company Joy Chai. As we nursed our tea, we were lead through the storefront and into the roasting room, where barrels of green coffee beans were waiting to be roasted. The aroma in that room was what I assume heaven smells like. After discussing proper cold brew concentrate ratios (roughly 3:1), the group got refills before gearing up for the next stop on the tour.
Bites by Confectioneiress was just down the street and served Julian coffee. The mood in the store was luxe and indulgent with gleaming glass domes covering cake pops and French macarons. I'd imagine Carmel moms would love to stop by after dropping their kids off at baby yoga. The almost-too-curated feel of the space was offset by the down to Earth vibes of the staff, and the fact that they had some killer coffee. First up was a hops-filled iced coffee, then a new dessert they were tentatively calling a deconstructed Snickers (So much nougat!). They sampled one of their signature drinks, which was a coffee mint julep. It was a fresh combination of mint and coffee over crushed iced, garnished with a little mint leaf. Just as the caffeine buzz was starting to hit me, the staff passed around a cup of rum-barrel coffee—coffee that had soaked in a barrel previously used to age rum. With a splash of milk, the coffee took on the richness of the rum without being overpowered by it. This brew will haunt me for eternity.
I’d like to take a moment to relay my physiological and emotional state. At this point (four drinks in), I was feeling like the funniest person that ever lived. Annabella and I could barely sit still as we struggled to keep our composure among the group of serious coffee drinkers. It was at this time that I had a small identity crisis. There is a distinct difference between those who drink coffee and those who identify as coffee enthusiasts. The difference between people who buy a can of Folgers and call it a day, and those who grind their own beans. Many members of the group were asking highly informed questions about roasting processes, and the sentiment of the day was that of a steadfast reverence to the almighty bean. Was this who I wanted to become? A coffee snob? An enthusiast? I reflected on this for a moment. Perhaps there was a time before the Crawl when I could have changed my path—stepped away from the warm, yet addictive glow of the caffeine shrine. But today, it was already within me. I was of the coffee and the coffee was of me. It was too late to turn back. And so I journeyed on.
The next stop was a demonstration down the street by Brew The Way. It was a short walk and an even shorter run! The founder of Brew The Way, Tim Stiffler-Dean, gave a talk on the importance of coffee in his life and how the beverage can be used to start important conversations and connections. I took a moment to consider my own fondness for coffee as a way to break the ice with new friends. It’s so accessible, self-determining, low-risk. The perfect entry way into relationships of all kinds.
But, I digress.
After several different brewing processes were presented, we were ready to journey into downtown Indy to stop by the 16th street staple, Thirsty Scholar. I was somewhat familiar with this spot as it is a favorite among my friends for being open past 9 (Where else does the under 21 crowd hang out?) and serving really splendid tea. Upon our arrival, we were greeted with a cup of iced chai blended with coconut and coffee concentrate. It was called the Ladykiller for its high caffeine content, and despite its problematic name, it was delicious.
The rain had begun to pick up again so the group hurried down the block to Tinker Coffee—another local roaster. At this small operation, we were offered a speed-round version of cupping—or taste-testing different blends of coffees. The process is generally used as a way for the roasters to decide which kinds of beans they will buy. Tinker offers cupping lessons for anyone interested in learning more about the process and developing their palate. We ended the day at Foundry Provisions, a hip café with Herron students’ artwork on the walls. Since we had already consumed an irresponsible amount of coffee for the day, Annabella and I skipped out on the sample and instead took a tiny cup of squash soup to try to balance out our blood sugars.
As we headed back down to Bloomington, Annabella and I felt the inevitable crash lurking in the back of our heads. Sure enough, it came. That night, I felt nauseous, exhausted and incredibly wired. But thanks to the Caffeine Crawl, the high was definitely worth the low.
(09/25/15 5:20pm)
Released 9/18/15
Rating 6/7
I don’t know if I can call this a “review” because really what I want to do is gush about Ugly Cherries. The debut album from Liv Bruce and Ben Hopkins (aka PWR BTTM) is chock full of introspective songs about being lonely, feeling different, and trying to figure yourself out. And if there’s one thing I love in this world, it’s introspective rock songs delivered by a queer-identified band with a panache for facial glitter and rocking the fuck out.
The album opens with “Short-Lived Nightmare,” which clocks in at just over a minute long. The lilting vocals and fuzzy electric guitar melt together to establish the vibe of the album—lots of attention to lyrics and moments of swelling rock ‘n’ roll madness. “Dairy Queen” is all about things to come. PWR BTTM roll through different potential scenarios broken up between the repetition of the line, “but right now, I’m in the shower.” It’s an apt “getting ready” anthem, but also it feels like a little self-care reminder. Yes, many interesting and unpredictable things could happen tonight, but right now I have to do this very basic act of care. This first, and then I can worry about whatever comes next.
“I Wanna Boi” is a singles ad in song form, complete with an email address and instructions to "send a picture or two.” In a similar vein of playfulness is “All The Boys,” in which they sing, “All the boys say they don’t love me, but I know they’re lying!” These songs certainly have jovial aspects to them—there’s a repeated “Bitch, I might be” in the latter—and they sound fun and lighthearted, but there is an undertone of loneliness that grounds them in the themes of Ugly Cherries and like, the universal themes of personhood (i.e. fear of being unwanted). “House In Virginia” has a dreamy quality and begins more subdued than a lot of other tracks. “Hey there, baby, why are you so handsome, gaymazing, and nice//Makes me want to stay up all night.” After a slow build, the song crashes into gorgeous crescendos of the promise, “I’ll stay up all night.” It’s an incredibly vulnerable and sincere song.
“Ugly Cherries” is a battle between two parts of a whole. “Serving Goffman” follows right after with the opening lines, “I used my favorite pen to draw outside the lines until the lines got blurry.” These two songs seem to be the most self-reflective about identity. But instead of becoming weighty, melancholic tracks (which totally have merit), PWR BTTM brings these feelings of insecurity and doubt into the realm of garage rock. They make them something to which you can dance. They don’t simply invite you to feel these emotions in a shoe-gazer way, but to have a physical reaction to them. Move with them.
PWR BTTM is very very important. Not just because they make kickass tunes, but because they celebrate alternative ways of existing. Discussions of queer identities and the experiences related to them are too often relegated to tumblr or the classroom, and they certainly don’t dominate indie music spaces. But we need to see all different kinds of identities on stage. We need to hear music with lyrics like, “My girl gets scared, can’t take him anywhere.” We need artists who use the term “gaymazing.” We need to be able to see and celebrate and honor these lived experiences that challenge heteronormative ways of being so we can make musical spaces more inclusive, and also, on a grander scale, make the world a more inclusive place. “I wanna put the whole world in drag//but I’m starting to realize it’s already like that.” PWR BTTM opens up space for these kinds of conversations in a way that is real and fun and vital.
P.S. You can catch PWR BTTM with Palehound and Mitski at the Bishop on November 17.
(06/23/15 2:47pm)
Released 6/23
6/7
I’ve had the authenticity conversation on numerous occasions. What makes music authentic? Why do we have a tendency to call soul music real? How can a very specific sound grab listeners almost universally? Come on, name one person who can’t get into a Sam Cooke song. While exalting one form of music as more ~real~ than another seems a little silly, there is something undeniably warm and essential about soul. Which is why listening to Leon Bridges is so much fun.
The 25-year-old Texas native has had a monumental year. Bridges, a dancer turned singer, released “Better Man” and “Coming Home” on Soundcloud in 2014 and it seems to have been a quick ascent since. His debut album, out on Columbia, is as sentimental and polished as his first two singles promised.
Coming Home opens with the title track in which Bridges’ opening croons are enough to melt butter in the arctic tundra. Followed immediately by the flawless and pleading “Better Man,” the album begins with a one-two punch. And the hits keep coming. “Brown Skin Girl” is full of saxophone and twangy guitar and “Smooth Sailin’” is a track meant for grooving with tight harmonies leading the way.
“Shine” is a song fashioned at the crossroads of gospel and pop. A lot of Coming Home is tinged with gospel sounds and hymn-like lyrics. While most pop music in 2015 is secular, Bridges uses soul as means of communicating religious ideas in a way that is earnest and inviting without being preachy and uncomfortable.
“Lisa Sawyer,” a song Bridges wrote about his mother, is guaranteed to make you feel like a lousy kid. With its rich saxophone solo and reverb-y back-up vocals, it’s a stunning tribute to his mom. He takes his time with the lyrics, repeating many with added runs and twists. “Lisa Sawyer” is a reminder that our parents had lives before us, and that realization has never sounded sweeter.
“Flowers” is another gospel tune dressed up as classic Rock ‘n’ Roll. “Pull Away” is the necessary track about the end of a relationship. A line like, “My pillow bears a tear,” could have come off as cheesy, but instead Bridges pulls it off with a combination of production and sincerity. “Twistin and Groovin” is pretty much indicative of what you’ll feel like doing when you listen to the track. With a hot sax solo and a steady beat, the song induces nostalgia for juke joints and things we’ve only seen in movies.
The album ends with the transcendent “River.” It’s a gospel track with a full choir, a persistent tambourine and a soft-spoken acoustic guitar. The gentle repetition of “I wanna know, wanna know, wanna know” building from one female vocalist to Bridges and the whole chorus is enough to make anyone a believer for 3:58.
One of the major reasons Coming Home works so well is the fact that soul is inherently nostalgic music. It’s a part of our collective conscience as a culture. It’s the predecessor to rock and modern pop. Soul revivalists are not uncommon, however, Bridges and his very apparent reverence for the entire time period that encompassed soul is a rare bird indeed. When I first heard “Better Man,” I had to Google him to see if the song had been recorded in the 60s. Even his production methods make it seem like the sound is coming from the radio of a ’65 Thunderbird. The album avoids camp and instead creates nostalgia without tiredness. It’s timely in the way that soul always seems to be. In a word, it’s real.
(04/27/15 1:19am)
Are you an introvert? Do you get uncomfortable and a little sad at parties? Does small talk make you want to punch a wall? Fear not, my little wallflower, this handy guide will take you from shrinking violet to party pro in no time (Results not typical. Individual results may vary.).
So, you’re going to a house show. Let’s assume you got invited because there’s no way you’d just show up to a party. Hey, this is great! People want you to be there—even if it’s in a vague facebook invite kind of way.
First things first. Let’s assess the situation. House shows are like parties, but better because they have focal points. Music! How wonderful! You get to be in a hot basement with strangers, and it’s cool if you don’t talk to people because you’re ~listening~ to the tunes. Things are already on your side! It’s a good idea to have some sort of game plan. Who are you going with? If possible, try to go with buds who know you get a little frazzled in these scenes. And this goes without saying because it’s Introverts 101, but plan how long you want to stay. A minimum of 15 minutes is probably safe. But hey, maybe try staying a little longer. Again, there’s going to be music, so don’t worry too much.
Alright, it’s the night of the EVENT. You’ve put on your favorite shirt, you’ve brushed your teeth, and now you’re outside of the house. This is one of the hardest parts. I know it feels very weird to just waltz into someone’s house, but this is what the youths do! I know right now you feel like turning around and retreating into your bed to binge watch True Detective, and I’m not going to judge you if you make that call. But maybe, give it a try, walk into that stranger’s house. Find your way into the basement and plant yourself conveniently close to the door.
At this point, you can give yourself a little pat on the back. You made it inside. You’re officially here. Who goes to house shows? You do! There’s a band and people are bopping around. So far so good. But wait, don’t get too comfortable. Here comes the set change. One band is done and now you have about 15 minutes to kill before another band is ready. Time to break out the party games.
First, this is a great time to get a refill or use to bathroom. Not drinking? Rather not use the bathroom that clearly hasn’t been cleaned since 1978? Alright, let’s play a little game I like to call “what’s in this cabinet?” Make your way to the kitchen. Careful, that couple feverishly making out in the hallway is not going to move on your account. First, are there any snacks readily available on the counter? Is that a bag of mini donuts I see? Go for it! Next, check the cabinets. What could you assemble from the ingredients at your disposal? You could definitely make some pasta. Weigh the pros and cons of becoming That One Guy Who Made Spaghetti Bolognese At The Party. You could become a legend, but that isn’t really your style. And by the time you decide that there isn’t enough pasta to feed this house full of drunk people, the next band is ready to go.
Phew, hey, this isn’t so bad! You’re digging the music, you’re wiggling around a bit. Feelin’ loose. Then the music stops. The bands are done. All of the sudden the connection you were feeling with this group of people has evaporated into the night like that kid to your left’s e-cig vapor. I know you want to hit the road, but maybe try mingling a bit. You’re interesting! People like you! This is what college is all about: making conversation with inebriated people you’ll likely never see again. You’ve got this. Remember to stick to the predetermined script of collegiate small talk. Where are you from? What’s your major? What do you want to do? I know, I know, you hate conversations that lack substance, but you have to start somewhere. When in doubt, keep asking questions. Pretend to be an investigative journalist or Ira Glass or something. However you make conversation remember the single most important thing is DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE TELL PEOPLE THAT LARGE PARTIES MAKE YOU FEEL EMPTY INSIDE. It’s a rookie mistake. This is not an effective way to make friends.
If you’ve successfully avoided saying anything weird/sad, then the night was a success. Now you can really celebrate. Go get yourself a milkshake! You did it, champ! Since you used up all of your energy, feel free to spend the rest of the weekend by yourself. You’ve earned it. And hey, in another two weeks, you’ll be ready to get back out there and do it all over again!
On any given night in Bloomington, there are at least 300 house shows happening. They’re a great way to see some awesome bands for cheap. I know, my little introvert, it can be a bit stressful. But you’re doing it for the music—the noblest of causes.
Be safe. Be social. Best of luck.
(04/23/15 1:42am)
Released 4/14/2015
5/7
Spirit Family Reunion sounds like its members came straight out of a backwoods revival. It’s easy to imagine them ramblin’ through towns delivering the good news: Americana ain’t dead. Despite their Southern-influenced sound, SFR actually calls New York City their home. They use the city as a stomping ground to create some of the most organic roots music out there. Their second full-length album, Hands Together delivers foot-stompin’, sweaty folk wrapped up in a positive message.
The 12-track album kicks off with the heady “Wake Up, Rounder!” The band has been playing this song live for a while, but it finally makes its recorded debut on Hands Together. Good thing too. The song manages to retain the same energy it has in live performances—always a challenge with folk music. It’s a song that welcomes you in and invites you to sing along.
“It Does Not Bother Me” follows right after and keeps spirits high. It’s an unabashedly happy song about letting the small stuff roll off. The simple harmonies mix well with the banjo, the upright bass, and the snappy percussion. “Fill My Heart With Love” is a pretty straightforward tune about casting off negativity and embracing love. It’s not necessarily new material, but it’s tender and believable.
The banjo picks the intro to “Skillet Good And Greasy.” This song is a bit darker, but none the less affecting. Nick Panken and Maggie Carson’s vocals complement each other beautifully in this track and throughout Hands Together. Another song that’s been floating around in the Spirit Family Reunion repertoire is “Put Your Hands Together When You Spin The Wheel.” It’s a fast-paced tune about working toward something better. “Put your hands together when you spin the wheel, keep it turning/There is something better than the way you feel.” This song conjures images of muggy summer nights spent dancing in the grass.
All of the songs on Hands Together satisfy, but hearing Carson take lead vocals on “Once Again” made for an especially joyful listen. Her voice is clear and she sings out like she’s giving you permission to join her. The album slows things down with “Wait For Me” and “Don’t Be A Liar.” Panken’s earnest vocals carry through feelings of being stuck and heartbroken. There’s something melancholic in tone about the way he sings throughout Hands Together—as if he’s trying to get back to a better place that he isn’t sure exists anymore. It is present even in the joyous songs and gives the album a bittersweet quality.
The last hoorah comes from “All The Way Back Home.” It’s a traveling song fit for dirt roads woven into countrysides. Hands Together ends with “Nighttime in Nevada,” a lullaby of sorts. It’s wistful and nostalgic in a way that folk/roots music often is. “Nighttime in Nevada” maintains the communal vibe of the record and it ties it up nicely—especially since we began with “Wake Up, Rounder!”
There is something to be said for music that makes you feel good. Spirit Family Reunion seem to understand that, and they’ve honed in on that life-giving quality of Americana music. These songs are meant to be heard in a barn and sung with friends. If Hands Together had to be summed up in a sentence it’s: There is indeed a reunion, and we are all invited.
(04/09/15 12:23am)
Bloomington band, Mike Adams At His Honest Weight is serving up some of the most thoughtful rock tunes in town. Mike Adams was kind enough to drop by WIUX and discuss the Bloomington community, his talk show, and his unique approach to creating music. If you want to hear more of Mike Adams, listen to his latest LP, Best of Boiler Room Classics.
Be sure to catch Mike Adams At His Honest Weight tearing it up in Dunn Meadow during Culture Shock 2015.
(04/02/15 3:32pm)
This year has been a whirlwind of amazing albums—and it’s only April. With all of these new tunes coming out faster than hotcakes at IHOP on National Pancake Day, it’s easy to get a little overwhelmed. Below are some notable releases that should keep your ears busy until the next mindblowing album drops (which let’s be real will probably be in a few hours, the way things are going).
Sleater-Kinney—No Cities to Love
The indie punk-rock darlings returned after a decade-long hiatus to give us No Cities to Love. It’s an album that proves the girls still got it (as if anyone had any doubts) and that punk never dies.
Father John Misty—I Love You, Honeybear
FJM’s 11-track album is an incredible ode to his wife (Honeybear is a term of endearment for her). The album balances on chronic cynicism and marveling at the mysticism of love. It’s sentimental in spite of itself. Frankly, it’s glorious.
Drake—If You’re Reading This, It’s Too Late
Let’s not forget about Drake’s surprise release. The precedent for unannounced albums has been established, and so far the bar has been set pretty high. Of course, this strategy can only succeed when the songs are able to speak for themselves, and If You’re Reading This definitely talks the talk.
Kendrick Lamar—To Pimp A Butterfly
Kendrick Lamar’s latest release entered into the world to unanimously rave reviews (WIUX gave it the prestigious 7/7). This album is masterful and important. To Pimp A Butterfly is fully aware of the political-cultural climate in which it exists. It’s full of insight and wisdom and funk.
Seth Avett and Jessica Lea Mayfield—Seth Avett & Jessica Lea Mayfield Sing Elliott Smith
Cover albums are usually ambitious undertakings. Covering Elliott Smith while respecting the sacredness with which many people regard his music is an even greater challenge. Fortunately for Smith and Avett/Mayfield fans alike, the pair do justice to these songs. It’s a beautiful album that sweeps Smith’s discography and cradles the songs tenderly.
Courtney Barnett—Sometimes I Sit and Think, Sometimes I Just Sit
I don’t want to name names, but someone here is a bit fanatical about Courtney Barnett (it’s me). After the much-deserved praise of her Double EP: A Sea of Split Peas, Barnett delivers a full-length album with her signature narrative, almost spoken-word style, lyrics. All of Barnett’s songs seem to celebrate the mundane, to find meaning in house-hunting, skipping work, and grocery shopping. This album is on repeat until the sun burns out.
Sufjan Stevens—Carrie & Lowell
Sufjan Stevens’ album was featured on NPR’s First Listen last week, and I haven’t stopped crying since. It’s a cathartic record in which Stevens moves through grief surrounding the loss of his mother. It’s concerned with the eventuality of death and the wonder of being alive and here. Carrie & Lowell is deeply personal without being exclusive. If you haven’t given it a listen yet, find a quiet place and let the melodies wash over you.
Leon Bridges—Coming Home
This Texas-native has been getting a lot of attention and with good reason. Leon Bridges is delivering old school soul with a voice that could melt precious metals. “Better Man” will make you groove and “Coming Home” will make you swoon.
Florence + The Machine—“St. Jude” and “What Kind of Man”
Though she went under the radar for a bit, Flo has returned with two stellar tracks with cinematic videos as fitting accompaniments. “What Kind of Man” gives us the powerful Florence vocals with a new edge and “St. Jude” shows a reserved side to the singer we don’t often see. It’s an incredibly striking song because it lacks a chorus, but is all the more affecting for that. Needless to say, her summer album is highly anticipated.
Happy listening!
(03/17/15 10:39pm)
Last Saturday, Henry Crawford from Small Wonder, Neil Sanzgiri from Soft Cat and Jordan Lee from Mutual Benefit stopped by WIUX to play some tunes and talk about musical collaboration and community. Small Wonder and Soft Cat recently embarked on a month-long tour with some help from Lee. These guys are creating earnest pop music with a unique blend of ethereal sounds and honest lyrics. Soft Cat's new album, All Energy Will Rise is out April 7.
Listen to Soft Cat
Listen to Small Wonder
Listen to Mutual Benefit
(02/28/15 8:07pm)
London-based band, Years & Years is having a pretty stellar 2015—and it isn’t even March yet. The electro-soul-pop (what are genres?) trio is number one on BBC’s Sound of 2015 list. They’ve been steadily releasing EPs since 2013 and they dropped their Y & Y EP earlier this month. Comprised of Olly Alexander, Mikey Goldsworthy and Emre Turkmen, Years & Years produces incredibly catchy electronic music that isn’t overworked. Since their first single in 2012, the band has been cultivating its sound and gaining a solid fan-base including Sam Smith, for whom they opened on his tour last fall. With the combination of infectious beats and Alexander’s other-worldly vocals, it’s hard not to get hooked. In case you’ve yet to get acquainted with the band, here’s a Years & Years starter pack.
In 2012, they released “I Wish I Knew.” This cheeky tune almost feels like it came from a different band, and the accompanying video makes Years & Years stylistic evolution apparent.
Years & Years - I Wish I Knew from Arthur Mulhern on Vimeo.
“Eyes Shut” off their Real EP has a Youth Lagoon vibe to it. The lyrics are a bit darker and more on par with their current sound.
They amp up the bass and the edge on “Desire.”
Their latest single, “King” is a bonafide dance track. Lyrically, most of Years & Years’ songs deal with the dark side of relationships. The dreamy, layered music contrasts with Alexander’s desperate lyrics to create a tension that makes listening to Years & Years so interesting.
On the slowed-down “Memo” we get a glimpse of the band’s soul influences. Also, holy vocals, Batman.
Last month Years & Years reimagined Haim’s “Don’t Save Me” for Radio 1’s Live Lounge.
Years & Years is geared up to have a big 2015. They’re creating music that defies categorization. With smooth production and biting lyrics, this group has major staying power.
(02/22/15 11:27pm)
When I think of Vampire Weekend, I think of my very first driving lesson. It was a Saturday morning after an event at my high school and my friend Mike was going to give me a ride home. When we got to his car he asked me if I wanted to drive it around the parking lot. As I sat behind the wheel, adjusting my seat, Mike asked what I wanted to listen to because that seemed like an important part of the experience. I said Vampire Weekend and then we got to talking about which VW songs were our favorites as I weaved through the parking lot until my erratic accelerating and braking gave him motion sickness.
The first time I heard Vampire Weekend, I was watching VH1 (something 8th grade Mary was not supposed to do) and they were talking about “Oxford Comma.” I’d never heard anything like that before. It was like something clicked. I got their first CD from the public library soon after that and then I fell in love. VW was the band that really got me interested in music. Before them, I didn’t know that there was this whole other realm of music that wasn’t being played on the radio. I had been living in a world of tired pop and Panic! at the Disco (I forgive you, angsty Mary). When Contra came out my freshman year, I was back at the library, poring over the lyrics as if they were a riddle I might decipher.
Vampire Weekend was the soundtrack to my adolescence. They were the first band that really meant something to me. They were the accompaniment to every basement hangout, every time we snuck out of school to go eat lunch at Steak ‘n’ Shake, every semi-rebellious thing I’ve done. I've grown with them.
Modern Vampires of the City was released my senior year. How fitting that I should start and end with them. That album was so reflective of where I was at that time. It was both retrospective and forward-looking. Because my friends and I had no way to articulate how it felt to be in-between stages of life, we just sang-shouted “Diane Young” and drove aimlessly amid cornfields that summer.
I've danced like crazy to “A-Punk;” I've paddled downriver in a canoe singing the intro to “Step” with my friend; I’ve wailed along with the crowd at a show in Chicago. Vampire Weekend has been a connecting point for so many friendships and small, wondrous moments. Unlike some of my other favorite bands, I do not listen to them for solace. I listen in celebration. In celebration of being a suburban punk, of growing up, of falling in love with new sounds. Sometimes I wonder about the longevity of a band like Vampire Weekend. Will they mean as much to me in ten years? I’m not sure, but maybe that isn't the point anyway. Maybe it’s enough that they’re important now. Perhaps it’s even better that way.
(02/13/15 6:16pm)
After a four year break, Florence + the Machine is back with an epic new single. "What Kind of Man" is the first glimpse into the new record How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful, out June 2. Both the track and the accompanying video are stunning. Although the band has been out of the public consciousness for a while, if this song is any indication, I'd say they are ready to make some massive waves come summer. Florence is already booked for Coachella, where she will positively preview some tracks from the new album.
(02/13/15 6:11pm)
With Valentine’s Day fast approaching, l-u-v is in the air. Ah yes, the one day a year to make the daring sartorial choice to wear pink and red AT THE SAME TIME. Though I’m fairly certain the holiday was created to sell chocolate and pasta, Valentine’s Day doesn’t have to be just for established ~romantic~ relationships (cue Kenny G sax), it’s also a great time to meditate/celebrate one of the lesser acknowledged l-u-v vibes: the crush.
Also known as infatuation, the crush is that nonsensical feeling we all get when we’re feeling someone else’s vibe. They can strike AT ANY TIME. You could be on the bus and all the sudden in walks some cutie who’s appropriately dressed for the weather. Or you’re just ordering some coffee and the babin’ barista spells your name right. Maybe you’re just trying to mind your own business in the IMU but then you overhear some dreamboat talking about how unfair patriarchal privilege is. How are you supposed to deal??? I’m here to help. Whether you’ve been harboring a crush on your fave musician for years, or you just noticed that tall drink of water in your finite class, these songs are sure to help you cope with all the feels a crush can bring.
1. “We Get On” Kate Nash
This is the ultimate crush song. Kate knows how it feels to be in the grips of soul-crushing infatuation. Hopefully your crush-exploits fare a little better that hanging out in the bathroom all night though.
2. “I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend” The Ramones
Punks need love too! This tune is great because it gets the point across, but with a dismissive attitude. Like I don’t care if you like me, it’s whatever (but it’s actually not agh I’m dying here). Totally hardcore.
3. “I Fall in Love too Easily” Chet Baker
This is a great melancholy crush song. Listen to this whilst sipping coffee at a café on a rainy day. Plus, Chet Baker’s voice is the dreamiest.
4. “One Fine Day” The Chiffons
Motown gets it.
5. “Maway” Dan Croll
Crushes are imbued with a mess of possibility, fantasy and doubt. What are you going to do? Maybe you should ask your crush out! Or maybe you should just continue writing shitty poetry about him/her in your diary! (By the way, no one here has a crush on Dan Croll—if that’s what you were thinking. Because I don’t, okay?)
6. “God Help the Girl” God Help the Girl
This song from the movie of the same name, is prime room dancing material. It’s also a great example of the mixed emotions of crushdom. One minute you’re eating the chocolate hidden in the fridge and the next you’re so over it. Haven’t we all been there?
7. “Do I Have to Look for Love?” The Tuts
For when you really are over the whole “love” thing.
If you’re crushin’ hard this Valentine’s Day, my heart is with you. You can make it through this! Just crank these tunes and scribble his/her name all over your notebooks.
XOXO
(02/11/15 4:49pm)
Released 2/10/15
Rating 6/7
I know, I know, that music is completely subjective and even if I rave about an artist, maybe it just isn’t for you! But I’m going to do that anyway because Father John Misty has blessed us with I Love You, Honeybear, and it has exceeded all of my expectations.
The 11-track album feels like a massive feat for Father John Misty (aka Josh Tillman). Aside from the stellar production, it’s incredibly personal, self-deprecating, and at times even funny. I Love You, Honeybear feels like a love letter to Tillman’s wife where the basic gist is “the world is hurtling toward oblivion, but we’ve got each other and isn’t that amazing?” At times (especially during “Nothing Good Ever Happens at the Goddamn Thirsty Crow”) the songs can feel comically over-the-top, but there’s a thread of sincerity that binds the whole album together and makes this a spectacular listen.
I Love You, Honeybear opens with a song of the same name. The intimacy of repeating the pet name “Honeybear” over and over is juxtaposed with bleak lyrics like “you’re the one I want to watch the ship go down with.” This tension between tenderness and apparent nihilism sets the tone for the songs to follow.
Next up is “Chateau Lobby #4 (in C for Two Virgins).” It’s the fourth iteration of one of the most straightforward love songs on the album. It’s also the shortest song, which feels appropriate since it’s just 2:51 of gushing. “What are you doing with your whole life/how bout forever?” This line almost feels like a cheesy 80s country song, but the soaring instrumentation—including an unexpected horn section—takes it above the purely sentimental. The album takes a detour into the synthed-out, electronic world of “True Affection.” Tillman uses engineered melodies as a backdrop to bemoan the use of “strange devices” in place of face-to-face conversations. Sonically, it’s the outlier on I Love You, Honeybear, but FJM’s vocals keep it cohesive.
Things get weird (they were already weird, but they get considerably weirder) with “The Night Josh Tillman Came to our Apt.” This track centers around a vapid, pretentious, pseudo-bohemian girl that Tillman spends the night with—and hates a lot. Musically, this song has a charming early pop sound to it that undermines lines like, “why don’t you move to the Delta/I obliged later on when you begged me to choke ya.” Yikes.
Groovy 70s vibes ooze out of “Smiling and Astride Me.” “Strange Encounter” is aptly named as it starts out, “only ever be the girl who just almost died in my house.” “Ideal Husband” and “Bored in the USA” are unrelenting and powerful in both music and lyrics.
I Love You, Honeybear winds down with “Holy Shit”—an introspective series of lists regarding the decay of the modern world. Tillman bellows and bemoans religiosity, mass media, and the futility of life. But then, just when the diatribe is starting to feel a little worn, he switches gears almost imperceptibly. “Maybe love is just an economy based on resource scarcity, but what I fail to see is what that’s gotta do with you and me.” Ah, and there is the tie that binds. “I Went to the Store One Day” works in much the same way. It combines simple finger-picking guitar with a strings section and Tillman’s raw vocals to create a gorgeous love song. Of course, it still has the bleak element characteristic of all Father John Misty songs, but it’s also unapologetically sentimental.
I think that’s what I loved the most about I Love You, Honeybear. Yes, Tillman’s vocals are unbelievable and the instrumentation is marvelous and rich, but more than that, there is movement and tension in this album. Tillman laments the state of the universe, the pointlessness of existence, the truth that no one will be remembered forever. And still, in his own way, he celebrates and marvels at this love he has found, at this woman he has married. Within this tension lives an affecting truth. And Tillman guides us through the thick of it with tremendous skill.