Fluxblog Weekly #99: The Shins, Faye Webster, Your Old Droog, Spoon, Real Estate
March 13th, 2017
The Crime Of Wanting
The Shins “Cherry Hearts”
As it turns out, all I ever really needed to appreciate The Shins more was for James Mercer to do his regular thing but with, like, 60% more Scritti Politti and Erasure vibes. “Cherry Hearts” is a perky, bouncy synth pop tune about the most synth pop topic possible: A confusing crush that leaves you feeling both euphoric and neurotic. “You kissed me once while we were drunk,” Mercer sings a few times in each chorus, repeating the thought as if it will all become totally logical if he thinks about it enough. He probably wouldn’t even be hung up on this girl if that moment never happened, and there wasn’t some hope for something more. He’s frustrated and flustered, but the song makes it clear that he loves the excitement of it all.
Buy it from Amazon.
March 14th, 2017
Maybe Next Year
Faye Webster “She Won’t Go Away”
“She Won’t Go Away” is a country rock song, but Faye Webster’s arrangement keeps the most obvious country signifiers at a minimum. I don’t think this is a case of trying to pretend the song isn’t what it is to bait and switch the audience, but rather that Webster is prioritizing the backbeat by leaving a lot of negative space around the drum track. It’s one of those ‘70s melancholy groove records, like Carole King’s “It’s Too Late” or Todd Rundgren’s “I Saw the Light,” but with the clean, digital tone of keyboard-based rap. The sound of the instruments is remarkably crisp, but Webster’s voice is a lot more raw – not fragile, per se, but certainly more weathered than everything else in the mix.
Buy it from Amazon.
March 15th, 2017
Not Everyone’s Supposed To Rap
Your Old Droog “You Can Do It! (Give Up)”
It’s hard to tell whether this song, which details the terrible decisions that wrecked three people who started out in life with great promise, is meant to be taken as a cautionary tale, or just some deeply pessimistic schadenfreude. Your Old Droog sounds genuinely disappointed in the failed basketball star in the first verse, but there’s noticeable bile in the way he talks about the would-be model and the aspiring rapper in the second and third verses. But the song isn’t just “look at these pathetic assholes.” Droog’s lyrics are really about the social pressures and negative influences that derailed these people, and without stressing it too much, draws your attention to how these stumbling blocks get built into black American culture as an end result of institutional racism. The point here isn’t that these people are stupid for trying – trying is a good thing – but are likely irrevocably fucked for life because they failed.
Also: I was going nuts trying to figure out what sample this song was built on, and was thinking it was something from the ’70s but couldn’t place it. As it turns out, it’s Richard Swift’s “Lady Luck,” a song that was featured here a few years ago.
Buy it from Amazon.
March 16th, 2017
Whisper Down The Tube
Spoon “Do I Have To Talk You Into It?”
Spoon is the rare type of band whose style is essentially a sub-genre of their own making, with its own set of formal rules and quirks particular to their musical strengths. Spoon songs fall on a continuum of them stepping outside of their comfort zone while retaining their character – the new sax-based instrumental “Us,” for example – to adapting a familiar song type to their style – “I Summon You,” “You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb” – to a song like “Do I Have To Talk You Into It,” which is pure, unfiltered Spoon aesthetics. You get Jim Eno’s in-the-pocket yet slightly off-kilter drums; Britt Daniel’s soulful yet playful rasp hovering around the beat; the distinctly dry direct-input tone of the piano setting on an electric keyboard; miscellaneous odd sounds that float through the mix but never occupy the big chunk of negative space at the core of the track. This one’s got it all, folks. It’s Spoon as fuck.
The interesting thing here is that this extremely Spoon-ish song seems to be about Spoon. Britt’s lyrics seem to be about some romantic or sexual relationship on the surface, but a closer read – paired with some basic knowledge of the guy’s biography – suggests that this is actually about his long collaboration with Jim. (Here’s another clue for you all: there’s a verse about someone named Jimmy, and the walrus was Paul.) So it’s funny that the song on the new record that sounds the most like Britt in dialogue with Jim’s drumming on a musical level may also be that on a lyrical level too, with him reflecting on their personal dynamic and dealing with the frustrations of any long term partnership.
There’s also an intriguing aside about the downside of being in a long-running successful band, i.e., people moving on to some other hot new thing: “When the mood of the era’s gone / everybody’s fading me, even my ma!” This explains a lot of Britt’s restless feeling, but the sense of “eh, who cares, let’s just keep doing our thing” sentiment in this song is stronger.
Buy it from Amazon.
March 17th, 2017
The Distance To The Next Star
Real Estate “After the Moon”
Nearly all of Real Estate’s songs feel like they take place at some point in the afternoon. Maybe one will feel like 1 PM on sunny Saturday in April, or another more like an overcast 3 PM on a Sunday in September. But there’s something in the band’s guitar tone that has the ring of daylight to it, and something in Martin Courtney’s voice that expresses a very minor sort of melancholy that guarantees a “enjoy this nice moment while it lasts” subtext to every tune. “After the Moon” is the first Real Estate song I’ve heard that sounds like a night song – a little slower, a little more delicate, some suggestion of moonlight in the timbre of the chords. Courtney must agree with this impression of the music, as his lyrics fixate on the night as well. There’s a sadness and frustration in his words, but the sound of it is incredibly placid. Even as the negative feelings come out, they seem to almost immediately dissipate.
Buy it from Amazon.