Song of the day

"Misery", by Veronica Falls.

Veronica Falls sound variously like The Raincoats, The Wedding Present, The Cannanes, The Bats (and if you are going to do a song in homage to that particular pocket of the Flying Nun sound, you might as well call it "Stephen") and The Ampersands (the Melbourne ones). But what they might lack in originality they certainly make up for in verve. Their just-out self-titled debut album is full of it. If we were 20 years younger we would be bouncing around the living room. Heck, we are anyway.

You can't watch the official video for "Misery" on YouTube in Australia (what's with that?) but you can watch them playing it live:



(They make a bit of a meal of the vocals in the first chorus but just bear with them. Also, the recorded version -- download it here! -- ends with a very sweet bit of acapella, sounding more like Steeleye Span than any of the names listed above.)

Song of the day

"Penobska Oakwalk", by Quilt.



The best that I can say about this song, which is quite new although it doesn't really sound it, is that it starts off good and gets better. I think what really won me over is how, tucked away in the dusty corners of their sound, you can hear the faintest trace of Galaxie 500.

Downloadable from Altered Zones. Take note of the obligatory band photo: at least two of the members are smiling. That will never do.

Song of the day

"Caught in a Landslide of Love", by Debra Jackson.

Here is a curious thing. The first 38 seconds suggest nothing you would ever wish to listen to again. But then it turns on the head of a pin and becomes something that, if you were able to blot out the entirely inappropriate piano, and replace it with some charmingly rudimentary guitar playing, might well have come out of the "twee" side of the Pacific North West scene of the late 80s / early 90s. (It's actually from 1984.) The final two-part harmony, for example, is pure Softies.

Un-YouTube-able, so download it here.

Warning: hardened cynics need not apply.

Song of the day

"Kick The Can", by The Junior Boys.



Isn't it strange how, the first time you hear a song, all you can think of is "Smalltown Boy", and yet by the tenth time you have heard it, "Smalltown Boy" no longer registers at all, the trace of melody (okay, in this case a bit more than a trace) having been absorbed into the fabric of this new song. It is probably the music fan's equivalent of composting.

(If the same melody appears in another song in 10 years time, will the music fan say "that's 'Smalltown Boy'", or will he say "that's 'Kick The Can'"? I guess that will be the real test. But right now I am reaching for the new Junior Boys CD, not Bronski Beat.)

Song of the day

"One Million Year Trip", by Laetitia Sadier.



I have been listening to quite a lot of the elaborate prog-pop of Elektra-era Stereolab recently. I always assumed that Stereolab operated a bit like I understand Portishead do, in that the guys (or "guy" in the case of Stereolab, that guy being Tim Gane) came up with the music and, at some point thereafter, Laetitia Sadier threw down some kind of Marxist-Leninist tracts to sing over the top. But listening to her solo album, "The Trip", I can see that this wasn't in fact the case: there is a lot of the Stereolab sound on this record, not least on this song, which I interpret, lyrically and perhaps musically (most evidently in the backing harmonies), to be "about" Mary Hansen, who went on her own million-year trip as the result of a cycling tragedy in London, after which Stereolab were, understandably, never quite the same. (Although their last few albums nevertheless contained enough good-natured pop experimentalism to keep me coming back, and I do miss them.)

There is also something in this song, a particular chord change or guitar line perhaps, that reminds me of "Two Rivers", by The Meat Puppets, a song that I am always happy to be reminded of. Oh, look, here it comes:

Song of the day

"The Town Halo", by A C Newman.



This song has some of the most rockin' cello since the golden days of ELO. That's all you need to know, really.

Conspiracy theory of the day

We haven't received an issue of the New Yorker for over a month. This is bad. (Adrienne is climbing the walls over the sudden absence from her life of "Talk of the Town".)

Now I notice the following two documents, which I have liberally borrowed from Sasha Frere-Jones's tumblr.

I have put two and two together, and reached the following conclusion:

OUR POSTIE IS A SC**NT*L*G*ST!!!

[editor's note: all good conspiracy theorists use lots of exclamation marks]

I would just like to point out that I most certainly did not read the "expose" in question; even if I did read it, I most certainly did not enjoy it; and even if I did enjoy it, I most certainly did not share it with and/or recommend it to anybody.

Honest.

Can we please have our New Yorkers back now?

Where It's At

People like me: you have my sympathy. You should also read this recent Pitchfork column by seemingly erstwhile scribe William Bowers. You will recognise many of the thought processes, anxieties, petty rationalisations and antisocial tendencies contained therein. (You will also note, with misguided satisfaction, that you are not the only person to obsessively alphabetise your "collection", and to know who sits next to whom on the shelves.)

One qualification, though. In the case of Maggie Gyllenhaal, I think I could turn a blind eye to the occasional Jim Morrison poster.

Song of the day

"Trilogy", by Sonic Youth.

There can be nothing more pathetic than the sight of a wizened 47-year-old man in a nondescript gray suit, standing at a bus stop in Canberra, playing silent air guitar like his life depended on it, to a song that is going on 25 years old.

Reader, that was me.

Fortunately the bus arrived before things got too out of hand.

The first part of the trilogy you can see/hear below.

Song of the day

"Be All Be Easy", by Woods.



"Elegant Chaos" may have been a song by Julian Cope, but it also neatly sums up what you get with Woods: more or less classic pop stylings wrapped up in ramshackle instrumentation and deceptively absent (but in a good way) production, uh, "values". All of which is on offer here. What I like, in particular, are the keyboards that quietly sneak in towards the end of the song and then take over, like a benevolent dictator taking power in a bloodless, but rather exciting, coup.

Or perhaps you would prefer the live experience:



You knew there would be facial hair.

Song of the day

"Candyskin", by Fire Engines.

Where is the YouTube love for this song? Come on you guys. In the meantime direct download it here.

Anyway the lame excuse (if one were needed: NOT) for posting this song is that we had two fire engines at our house on Sunday night, on account of smoke in the living room and some kind of electrical smell. It must have been a false alarm (the house is still standing). One boy was understandably freaked out. The other was out there in his PJs staring in awe at the trucks. I had been, for a short while, in a state of desperate panic as I raced around the house looking for the flames I was certain I would find.

In hindsight it was probably my amplifier burning out. For the second time this year.

Song of the day

"Come On", by Melted Toys.

There is something particularly endearing about this song. It's a bit like if you took The Cat's Miaow, added a couple of extra guitars and tripled the length of their songs. It has a bit of that good ol' understated charm about it.

Here they are doing it live:



Style note: it would appear that floppy fringes are back. Perfect for hiding behind if you are a reluctant lead singer uncomfortable with the idea of "projection".

YouTube of the day

This is a long clip of Battles doing a song called "Wall Street" live in a big old building somewhere in Paris.



Sometimes you have to watch a band in order for them to make sense. Battles on CD can be somewhat less than transparent. It helps to discover, or be reminded, that all that sound, with its fragile structures and thrilling runs, is being made by three guys. And man, that drummer.

The new album, "Gloss Drop", is well worth your time. I think we can safely say that, "Atlas" notwithstanding (easily the best song of whatever year that was), this is the Battles we wanted all along.

YouTube of the day

The video for one of the finest songs of the twenty-first century, rendered entirely in Lego (albeit with digital effects, purists):

For comparison purposes, here is the original:

Unfinished Business

There are numerous threads that have not yet been tied up. To wit:

The quarterly round-up of John Zorn's album-a-month release schedule for 2010 stalled at the end of the second quarter.

I still have something like 18 Neil Young albums post-1980 to listen to.

Darren's list of 1,111 songs (give or take a few) is up to number 19. So there is a bit of work to go there. (We love understatement.) (This was never intended to be a public project, but as each of these songs was personally chosen with me in mind, it seems only fair that I give them all proper consideration, and that  generally requires utilisation of the written word.) Number 20, for those who think two years (almost to the day, coincidence fans) is long enough, is Jose Feliciano's string-laden take on "Light My Fire".

We love old-school lounge music at our house, so this by its mere existence is uncritically awarded full marks. (His version of "California Dreamin'" might just tip this out of the number one slot, but who's counting?)

(Another fine version of "Light My Fire" is by The Free Design.)

(As a general rule, my only problem with The Doors is Jim Morrison.)

If I ever get anywhere near the end of these projects, I plan to turn my mind to Ed Kuepper's Prince Melon Bootleg Series of live recordings and outtakes; Bob Dylan's recorded works post-"Blonde On Blonde" with the exception of "Blood On The Tracks" and "Time Out Of Mind", both of which should be sufficiently well known (and loved) to require no further comment; and, once I have really taken leave of my sanity, David Bowie's catalogue since "Lodger", which is where I happily got off. Oh. That would require tracking down and listening to the Tin Man albums. I may not be man enough.

One thing led to another ...

"Ghost Town", by The Specials. (Note: best song EVAH.)



"Torch", by Soft Cell.



"Temptation", by Heaven 17.



"Confusion", by New Order.



"Stool Pigeon", by Kid Creole and The Coconuts.

Song of the day

"Mind Your Own Business", by Delta 5.



aka more words of advice Rupert Murdoch would have done well to follow.

Be sure to stick around for the very Gang of Four guitar slashing at the end.

Road Trip

We are heading off down the highway for a few days, so it figures that things will probably be a little quiet over here at Farmer In The City Central. Chances are that we won't so much be having a holiday as packing up our troubles and taking them to another location, but a change is as good and all of that.

What we won't be doing is travelling in one of these:

(Right click etc to enlarge.)

Two things to be said about this ad (from the New Yorker, mid-1961). One: nowhere does it use the word "Kombi". Two: Volkswagen have been doing fabulous, frequently self-deprecating magazine advertisements for more than 50 years. That is pretty impressive, no?

Song of the day

"News of the World", by The Jam.



Or maybe you would prefer "Sunday Papers", by Joe Jackson.



Or, and this is particular favourite that needs no bogus topical excuse, "Rupert Murdoch", by The Reels. I couldn't find it on the 'Tube, but it's short and it's sweet and you can download it here.

Song of the day

"I Might", by Wilco.



Hey kids, it's a new song by Wilco.

One of the things that has impressed me about the last couple of Wilco albums (both, in my opinion, essential purchases, although many would disagree) is the way they have managed to do so little with so many. In a good way. Once again, there is a lot of space in this song, but everything that needs to be there is there, and your brain will infer the rest. Spoon come to mind, in the taut starkness of the thing. The Smiths also come to mind, in the way the bass and drums do a lot of the melody work.

The b-side is a cover of a Nick Lowe song, proving that they also have impeccable taste.