Fluxblog #282: NYC 00-04 playlist | Stephen Malkmus • Jenny O • Bless the Mad • Jana Horn
There's a fairly long and wide-ranging interview with me on the new episode of Graphic Policy Radio this week. The episode gets into my personal history, Fluxblog and the recent playlist projects, critical writing in general, and about a third of the conversation is focused on comics because Graphic Policy is mainly a comics thing.
Only one new playlist this week but it's one I know a lot of you will be into...
NYC: The Rock Revival 2000-2004
A broad view of what was happening in the New York City rock scene at the turn of the 21st century, including all the artists you'd expect along with some who've been forgotten or typically get left out of this story.
[Spotify] [Apple]
September 14th, 2020
The Open Idea Plan
Stephen Malkmus “Brainwashed”
I certainly never expected Stephen Malkmus to ever record a song with a vibe very similar to that of Grant Lee Buffalo’s 1994 masterpiece Mighty Joe Moon, but here we are – one of the few unexpected things in 2020 to actually be delightful. “Brainwashed” is a folksy number with a distinctly woodsy feel, like he ought to be playing it while sitting on a log near a stream, or maybe out in front of a cabin with the scent of a wood-burning stove in the distance. Malkmus’ vocal falls somewhere between relaxed and exhausted as he pleads to be rid of his mind and his memories, and all the responsibilities that go along with it. He sketches out some odd Malkmusian details about what the guy in this song has been up to – some kind of scam involving propane in Maine? – but that’s just color. The main thing here is the way the “brainwash me” refrain sounds so enticing now, and the way Malkmus busts out an electric guitar solo at the end that’s a little like what he pulled out for his Silver Jews song “Blue Arrangements” over 20 years ago and a bit like a more dazed version of Neil Young.
Also, in case you missed it a few months ago, I wrote a full review of Malkmus’ Traditional Techniques for NPR and you can read it right here.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
September 15th, 2020
Celebrate It All The Way Through
Jenny O “Color Love”
I’ve come to expect some degree of anxiety in the lyrics of young songwriters, so it is a pleasant surprise that the cool, calm, ’60s psychedelia of this song is not subverted by lyrics expressing some form of angst. Or maybe it does, in a more roundabout sense: Jenny O’s lyrics here is basically advice urging the listener to make the most of small pleasures in life, and I’m sure to some extent she’s addressing herself. But in either case, it’s very relaxed in tone and it’s messaging, and not at all pushy in getting across the subtext that these little pleasures are what add up to a good life or what can keep us from losing sight of what is valuable in the world when it’s much easier to see all that is terrible in it. And all of that is factored into the sound too, as the whole thing is built on gently melancholic chords and progresses towards a guitar solo that expels lingering tensions that build up through the song.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
September 17th, 2020
Oh Lord
Bless the Mad featuring Edson Sean “Show Me the Way”
Ibrahem Hasan and Matthew Rivera bring a crate-digging, collage-making hip-hop DJ mindset to their recordings as Bless the Mad, even if the music on the record is all live instrumentation. “Show Me the Way” is driven mainly by Rivera’s drums and keyboard parts but is carried by Edson Sean, whose soulful gospel wailing and warm bass are the most expressive parts of the composition. The arrangement of this song feels tidal, as though the music and vocal parts are waves cresting and crashing. There’s a turmoil to it but also a very peaceful feeling, as though Sean’s pleas to God are answered by the music’s own flow towards moments of equilibrium.
Buy it from Bandcamp.
September 18th, 2020
No History To Retell
Jana Horn “Time Machine”
“Time Machine” is a pensive song with the atmosphere of the first genuinely cold day of autumn, when your body reacquaints itself with air so chilly it sort of stings with a light breeze. Jana Horn sings about the end of a close relationship – it’s not obvious whether it’s romantic or platonic – with a slightly detached tone, as though she’s already moved through the stages of grief and has arrived at acceptance and resignation. In the verses she deals with the aftermath of the other person’s decision to end things and the impossibility of changing their mind, but the choruses entertain the fantasy of creating a time machine and… maybe undoing something? There’s no specific idea suggested, just the open-ended magical thinking of the possibility of building a thing that’s never existed.
Buy it from Bandcamp.