VOTD: Gary Clark Jr. - ‘Numb’
Get ready for the coolest heartbreak you’ll ever witness. Gary Clark Jr. does his best Man In Black, all modern and resplendent in hipster glasses and a beanie, but telling a tale as old as time – the Cadillac-driving bluesman who can’t pay his bills paired with the woman he’s afraid he’ll lose. The music is so raw you might feel like you’re actually intruding upon something, but as proven by the end of the video (and this whole album), the only relationship that really matters is Gary and his guitar.
-Kelsey Butterworth
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1. White terrorists are called “gunmen.” What does that even mean? A person with a gun? Wouldn’t that be, like, everyone in the US? Other terrorists are called, like, “terrorists.”
2. White terrorists are “troubled loners.” Other terrorists are always suspected of being part of a global plot, even when they are obviously troubled loners.
3. Doing a study on the danger of white terrorists at the Department of Homeland Security will get you sidelined by angry white Congressmen. Doing studies on other kinds of terrorists is a guaranteed promotion.
4. The family of a white terrorist is interviewed, weeping as they wonder where he went wrong. The families of other terrorists are almost never interviewed.
5. White terrorists are part of a “fringe.” Other terrorists are apparently mainstream.
6. White terrorists are random events, like tornadoes. Other terrorists are long-running conspiracies.
7. White terrorists are never called “white.” But other terrorists are given ethnic affiliations.
8. Nobody thinks white terrorists are typical of white people. But other terrorists are considered paragons of their societies.
9. White terrorists are alcoholics, addicts or mentally ill. Other terrorists are apparently clean-living and perfectly sane.
10. There is nothing you can do about white terrorists. Gun control won’t stop them. No policy you could make, no government program, could possibly have an impact on them. But hundreds of billions of dollars must be spent on police and on the Department of Defense, and on TSA, which must virtually strip search 60 million people a year, to deal with other terrorists.
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Juan Cole, 08/09/2012 (via thepeacefulterrorist)
Juan Cole actually wrote this 4 days after a white terrorist, yes, terrorist, murdered 6 and injured 4 people at a Sikh gurdwara in Wisconsin. The terrorist who committed said crime spoke of an impending “racial holy war” beforehand and was a member of white supremacist/neo-Nazi hate groups.
(via mohandasgandhi)
(Source: juancole.com, via ogreatyouagain)
ALBUM REVIEW: Fitz and the Tantrums, More Than Just A Dream
Haters to the left. “Can’t keep up with my rhythm / Though they keep tryin’” shouts an empowered Michael “Fitz” Fitzpatrick, opening up his group’s highly anticipated second record with plenty of attitude. Don’t like it? They don’t give a flying fukachu: they feel this music in their soul.
The band (mostly) forsakes their first album’s pop-scratch vinyl production style for an ultra slick sound, and an executive decision to dabble in 80s sheen pop seems to have been made. Opening track ‘Out Of My League’ is all minor key synth and handclaps. Don’t worry though, they still BRING the funk. Check the horns breakdown on ‘The Walker’ and the drums in ‘Keepin Our Eyes Out’. And it goes without saying, but we can never get enough soulful Fitz/Noelle Scaggs’ verse duets.
Fitz’s heart is still broken – he’s still searching for his soulmate, but she’s out of his league. On ‘6am’, he sings “A love song’s on the radio / But these words I hear, they’re not for me, no” and on ‘Fools Gold’, Fitz opines “Thought we had a million / But baby, we got nothin’”. But the other side of the pillow is still cool, and mighty uplifting. Breaking things (like oppression, or the chains of love) is still a major theme. The super upbeat ‘Break The Walls’ will make you want to grab a sledgehammer and change the world, we guarantee it.
It’s all impossible not to dance to. If you go see them live, heed the warnings in ‘Spark’: “The speaker is about to explode / Don’t they know / This building is about to blow”. You’re in for a real show, folks.
-Kelsey Butterworth
ALBUM REVIEW: Futurebirds, Baba Yaga
The second and latest Futurebirds is out, and folks, it’s a good ‘un. Their quintessentailly Athenian sound blends stoner country rock with good ole southern charm, like a pot-smoking Old 97’s or Uncle Tupelo raised on the internet. There are plenty of different sounds floating around though – ‘The Light’ is countrified Real Estate territory, and ‘Death Awaits’ practically snuck over here from My Morning Jacket’s ‘The Tennessee Fire’. Basically, if you like pedal steel, this one’s for you.
For a band just offering up their sophomore release, they sound road-wearier than Willie Nelson. Their mellow, meandering lyrics echo the sentiments of many of the college students they share a town with: the desire to be a rebel with too many means to do so properly (“I wanna be an American cowboy / And I ain’t never ran away” from American Cowboy), or the fear that one’s youth is being wasted (“We’ve been burning too long / Don’t wanna sleep the night away” from Virginia Slims). Any college student with a southern soul and trepidation of the future can get behind this band – keep these birds on your radar.
-Kelsey Butterworth
Performing live at 9:30 Club on May 23rd.
“If you care about your brother you’ll get in this car.”
“Which brother?”
“Tyrion.”
Cersei keeps pedaling
(via meggannn)
VOTD: Surfer Blood - ‘Demon Dance’
The first video from Surfer Blood’s upcoming sophomore album ‘Python’ is, as you might expect from the Florida slack rockers, kind of weird. Lead singer John Paul Pitts stars as a security guard with some really freaky daydreams, perhaps inspired by Lars And The Real Girl. His bandmates make various appearances as BBQ-ers, 80s businessmen, teens at prom, and scuba divers, all standing stock-still and smiling creepily at us. The devil even makes an appearance, being sure to ‘make it rain.’
But enough nightmare fodder! Pitts seems to be writing more perplexing lyrics these days – singing “Like a Pentecostal choir on Sunday / I could suck the venom out of your bones” instead of, say, the more direct “So put it in your fucking napkin”. The track is more classic Dinosaur Jr.-esque melodic shoegaze that will make you tap your feet and leave you Surfer Blood-thirsty until June 11.
-Kelsey Butterworth
NEW TRACKS: Portugal. The Man - ‘Purple Yellow Red and Blue’
“All I wanna do is live in ecstasy” sing Portugal. The Man on their new song. Yeah, we bet. ‘Purple Yellow Red and Blue’ is a tribal, far-out take on wanting to escape the cares of the working world through fame and indulgence. Leave it to P.TM to romanticize such profound societal observations, but their sound is still Burning Man-meets-‘Abbey Road’. It almost seems like the Portland-via-Alaskan collective’s take on what traditional Native American music would do with synths. Grooving bass and drums, goosebump-inducing pan pipe, and of COURSE the quintessentially sexy P.TM falsetto make for a damn fine jam. Getcho freak on.
-Kelsey Butterworth
Welcome to a very special episode of Friendzone, Jezebel’s column devoted to dealing with the valuable people in your life who you’re not humping. In this installment, we’re tackling one from the comments on Boston: dealing with your sanctimonious friend who says we should reallllly be talking about [insert other awful thing here], which is “so much worse” or whatever.
ALBUM REVIEW: Parquet Courts, Light Up Gold
Imagine college-aged 90s kids who become Girls characters and start an indie rock band, but actually have ambition and are really, really good. Meet Parquet Courts, the Brooklyn-based garage rock kings who ruled over SXSW and will soon be ruling your soundsystem. Parquet Courts are the thinking stoner’s music, throwing around jagged guitars and frantic drums in 2:30 flat or your money back.
The hilarious ‘Stoned and Starving’ laments the tale of a 20-something wandering the streets of NYC in search of the cure to his munchies, but the syncopated call and response in the chorus makes it catchier than your average ode to weed. ‘Master of my Craft’ is practically the official anthem of sarcastic gen-Y’s whose college degrees make them overqualified for the barista gig they got after graduating. And like any good Girls character might, songs like ‘Borrowed Time’ and ‘Yonder Is Closer To The Heart’ bemoan the strange juxtaposition of having no motivation and feeling like you could change the world if you were just given the chance.
Consider them punkier ‘Is This It’-era Strokes or more city-wise ‘Youth & Young Manhood’-era Kings of Leon. Any way you cut it, they aren’t your average Pitchfork good-time-Charlie buzz band. There’s no unnecessary fluff, no filler on this record, but plenty of lofty ideas and quick wit. And they certainly don’t take themselves too seriously (case in point: the 19 seconds of feedback that make up ‘Light Up Gold I’). Where else can you find a band that sings both about Socrates and donuts? So take a walk with Parquet Courts. Just do it.
-Kelsey Butterworth
(via biryani-barbie)
(via meggannn)
