The United States of America, as well as coming up with what must be, in retrospect, one of the least Google-able band names ever, are probably best known today for their self-titled debut album, which was clearly a building block for the Broadcast sound.
Of some marginal interest, then, both to Broadcast fans and to historians of the late sixties (and in particular the narrow, sometimes one-raised-eyebrow quizzical and sometimes (not always intentionally) comedic intersection between the New Yorker magazine and the long-hairs) is this extract from the issue dated 30 March 1968, where one of the mainstays of the magazine, Lillian Ross, writes about going to see The United States of America, an "Electronic Rock Band", perform at Judson Hall.
"Lord It Over", by Dylan Golden Aycock. You are thinking you could be listening to a Ryley Walker track here. You would be wrong, but not that wrong.
Bonus: here it is, unaccompanied. And at greater length. Whatever works, I suppose.
"High Tide", by Mythic Sunship. More sun-drenched psych-tinged guitar playing here, although on this occasion it might be argued they have drenched themselves in more than just the sun. Oh look, they are from Copenhagen. Perhaps slightly less of the sun, then.
"Working Nights", by The Camberwell Now. From the mid-eighties. Formed by This Heat's drummer. Who knew?
"Born Into The Sunset (Lindstrom & Prins Thomas Remix)", by Temples. I had no idea that L&PT were still working together. Here is the proof. Do they still have that Lindstrom & Prins Thomas magic? They do.
"Hey Benji (Prins Thomas Remix)", by Hatchets. I don't know what Prins Thomas was taking in 2017, but we could all benefit from a work rate like his. Two albums; a "version" of a Dungen album; a bunch of singles; a bunch of remixes. Hey, slow down; you're making us all look bad. There are actually enough really cool ideas on this one remix for anyone else to sit back and think to themselves, not bad, I think I'll take the next decade off. But Prins Thomas is not anyone else.
"Maskindans", by Todd Terje feat Det Gylne Triangel. A kinda sorta cover of an early-eighties semi-industrial electronic pop song a la, I suppose, Depeche Mode. The plot twist here is that Todd Terje has enlisted the original artist to do a new vocal track. This was released in the middle of last year; it was supposed to be from a "forthcoming" LP. We're still waiting.
"Inkjet", by Beatrice Dillon and Call Super. I know nothing whatsoever about this. I was attracted to the seemingly infinite depths of sound. Curiously, though, Beatrice Dillon appeared on a 2013 album with, inter alia, Charles Hayward, from The Camberwell Now (see above). Spooky.
"The Beekeeper (Atella's Sand In Shoe Mix)", by Horixon feat Birsen. Everything sounds better with arpeggiated bass synth.
"Love (Is Gonna Be On Your Side)", by Firefly. If, in 1981, you had hit me up with some contemporary funk action, I would have said get outta here punk. (Actually that's not entirely true: Kid Creole And The Coconuts. Also "The Lexicon Of Love", which this track sounds not unlike at some points.) But 37 years later, this, I would be the first to admit, is precisely as fresh as.
"Come Back Clean (Kaskade's Radio Edit)", by The Crystal Method feat Emily Haines. Everything sounds better when it's sung by Emily Haines. FACT!
"My Trade In Sun Tears", by James Elkington.
It has been weighing on me that I was unable to find a place in my 2017 year-end list for James Elkington's "Wintres Woma". If only a top-10 list could go up to 11, like Nigel Tufnel's guitar amp in "Spinal Tap".
Oh well. Life tends not to be like the movies.
Anyway, just because "Wintres Woma" didn't make the list doesn't mean I can't give it a boost. (To the extent, tending towards the non-existent, that this blog is capable of giving anything a boost.) Admittedly it's a record that looks more backward than forward; but the things to which it looks back are things that are all worth hanging onto. Admittedly, too, there is a particular kind of 3/4-time song that I don't have a lot of time for, of which there are a couple of examples on the album. But the rest of it more than makes up for any slight deficiencies on that score, and anyway I seem to be in the minority here (maybe I was damaged as a small child): Aimee Mann, whom I generally admire, but who I suspect will never again hit quite as hard as she did on "Bachelor No 2", just made an entire album of such songs to fairly universal acclaim.
Maybe, too, his guitar playing at this stage is a couple of steps ahead of his songwriting. But these are early days; and anyway, his guitar playing is at least a couple of steps ahead of many, many things.
The penultimate track on the album, "My Trade In Sun Tears", is a good demonstration of his talents. Which are considerable.
