Archive for the ‘Records’ Category
Chester French’s Love the Future: Apathetic Pop With a Brit-Invasion Complex
It was hard to cop a buzz from most of the northeast collegiate bands in the early oughts; the music was by and large unexceptional, and most of the musicians spent as much time in front of an easel—or wrapped around a bong—as they did practicing. But then there were the rumors coming out of Harvard: the college’s most convincing band had a retro, jammy thing going on; they performed cheeky pop songs while wearing Bermuda tuxedos; their lead guitarist had a Trey-worthy tone but played with his back to the audience, Miles Davis-style, too aloof or too shy to give a proper rock ‘n’ roll performance.
A year later, I saw Chester French play a stuffed, sweaty Harvard venue known as the Fishbowl, and the guitarist had transformed. He gamboled about the stage, wagging his tongue at the audience and coining a curious update of the Chuck Berry duck-walk. Shredded, too. Their songs were generally OK, their stage presence above average, their ODB cover insolently upper-crust and a total slam-dunk.
The bow-tie, white-boy hooks were enough to catch the attention of rhythmic prepster Kanye West, who called during the spring of their senior year to offer them a record deal. Smart-alecks that they were, they turned him down, opting to become the first white guys ever produced by Pharrell Williams. Two years in L.A. and one trendily short-lived debutante marriage ensued (that shy freshman guitarist? He grew up fast!). And now we have Love the Future, the first full-length from the two remaining members of the undergrad lineup.
Read More “Chester French’s Love the Future: Apathetic Pop With a Brit-Invasion Complex” »
Record Fair on Saturday
Just a quick reminder that the DC Record Fair hits this Saturday and is shaping up to be the greatest record fair in the history of record fairs. The legendary Chuck Brown will be in the building signing autographs, ten DJs will be rocking separate rooms, food and alcohol will be served, and yours truly will be slanging records and tapes alongside 29 other more qualified dealers. Come through and say hello.
In Defense of Disappointment:
Gomez’s A New Tide isn’t all bad
I recently came under fire for being too cruel to the new Gomez record. Specifically, I came under fire from City Lights editor Mike Riggs, who called me a “harsh motherfucker” and who really, really enjoys the song “Little Pieces,” which (he tells me) ran as intro/outro music to yet another episode of Grey’s Anatomy two weeks ago.
While I can’t explicitly tool on Riggs for watching Grey’s Anatomy, I can at least clarify my review. What made past albums from the Southport, U.K.-based indie-rollers special was the very personal glee that came through in even their higher-fi tunes. It always sounded as though they were gathered in some Big Pink-like hideaway, strumming mismatched patterns on a beat-up acoustic, allowing their dealer to sit in on bongos, &c. Their more produced material maintained that glee, got occasionally ethereal in a way that sideswiped Coldplay, and, for all its jangling and twangling, never lapsed into vapid Americana. Take a track from the first record—”Get Myself Arrested,” a little ditty about rock stardom and fast cardom:
Read More “In Defense of Disappointment:
Gomez’s A New Tide isn’t all bad” »
New Dylan to Drop April 28; Weird Album Art Already Iconic
Dylan/Zimmy/Judas wasted no time after last October’s release of the sprawling retrospective, Tell Tale Signs: on April 28, Columbia will release his new studio album, Together Through Life, Billboard reports.
If label hype is any indicator—which, in this case, it sort of probably is—the record’s packed full of nostalgic, tumbleweed-y vignettes, Chi-town blues, and churning boogie. Plus: banjo, mando, and…accordion! Promo materials go on to explain that on his new record, Dylan’s aiming for a retro-minded fusion of Chess & Sun sounds. Which—correct me if I’m wrong—is what he’s been doing since about 1964.
Read More “New Dylan to Drop April 28; Weird Album Art Already Iconic” »
Dischord Has New Remastered Versions Of Classic LPs
Dischord announced that it has more back-in-stock and remastered LPs. Records include Fugazi’s Red Medicine (a must own), Embrace’s self-titled LP, Scream’s Still Screaming album and the Faith/Void split. Some of these have been reissued on colored vinyl!
New Arrivals @ Crooked Beat
Link Wray looking supercool.
Crooked Beat sent along this e-mail with a list of new arrivals at their shop. Includes Link Wray, the Wedding Present, and the new Animal Collective LP.
List after the jump.
Carrie Brownstein On Touch And Go’s Demise
Recently, indie-rock cornerstone Touch and Go Records announced it was effectively closing up shop. Carrie Brownstein wrote up a solid essay on her blog, Monitor Mix, about the sad news.
Brownstein points the finger at music websites as a big culprit. She makes some interesting points. I agree with everything she has to say. It should be noted that the two recently released Touch and Go albums leaked well in advance. You can’t stop illegal downloading.
Then why are record stores thriving in the District?
Remembering Rickey Wright
This past weekend, we learned that former Washington City Paper music critic Rickey Wright had died. I put together a tribute of sorts made from Wright’s blog posts and WCP pieces, tributes from friends and colleagues and family.
On Saturday afternoon, I had the fortune of talking with Nicole Arthur. Arthur served as Washington City Paper’s Arts Editor in 1994 and 1995. It was around that time that Wright began reviewing records for us. This was a time when people wanted to be rock critics, when there was space for such writing, when there was competition to review the big records. And Wright reviewed his share of the big records.
But Arthur was more than just an editor to Wright. She was a friend. The two had struck up a friendship in the ’80s. Of course, it started over music.
On Sunday, Arthur e-mailed me some of her many memories of Wright:
“I met Rickey in Richmond, Va., in 1987. I had written a record review for VCU’s student newspaper, which I’m pretty sure was the first thing I ever wrote for publication, and he wrote me a fan letter. He had already graduated at that point, and he was working at Peaches Records & Tapes. We met soon thereafter and were fast friends; I think it was our shared reverence for Love’s “Forever Changes” that sealed the deal. But back to that fan letter — turns out it was completely in character. Rickey had an amazing generosity of spirit; he constantly encouraged other writers and he was a tireless cheerleader for his friends. If you happened to fall into both categories, you were very lucky indeed.
Unlike most critics, Rickey was not a music snob. He would gladly discuss Nick Drake for hours (and it would be hours — he *loved* to talk), but he would just as gladly discuss Def Leppard. He never wrote anything off because it was “uncool.” I once complained about my daughter listening to the Wiggles, and he leapt to their defense: “They’re a classic four-piece pop combo!” This is not to say that he was not discriminating, he was. He once wrote a John Mayer review so brutal, the story goes, that Mayer cited it in interviews as an example of his being eviscerated by the press.
Rickey was a master of the soon-to-be-lost art of making mix tapes; he had a great instinct for implausible-seeming combinations that somehow complemented one another. I’m looking at the list of artists on one of the tapes he made me — the Raspberries, Professor Longhair, Love and Rockets, Roger Miller, Prince, Roseanne Cash. And it’s amazing; I’ve been listening to it for 20 years.”
Rickey Wright R.I.P.
Former Washington City Paper music critic Rickey Wright is dead. Wright passed away at 4:31 p.m. on February 19 in Seattle after suffering from a series of small strokes. At the time of his death, he was working on a book about John Lennon’s “Imagine.”
Wright was probably one of the most prolific talents the Washington City Paper has ever had perhaps on par with Jenkins, and the great, beloved Joel S. I never met Wright but I was around when he was around in the mid-to-late ’90s. I marveled at the fact that he could write on just about any band or genre and not appear to sweat it. (Most of us sweat it).
Wright’s prose was effortless and to the point. He didn’t mess around with silly metaphors. Nor did he make you feel stupid (he never loaded his pieces with arcane references to deep cuts, alternate Replacements b-sides, etc.). He just wrote and wrote.
“He was a save-your-ass kind of writer,” recalls former Washington City Paper Arts Editor Glenn Dixon. “If someone didn’t come through, and there were constantly people who didn’t come through, Rickey would do the job. He’d write it well. He’d get it in on time—always. He was never without ideas and he could cover any kind of music. I can’t tell you how rare that is. I’m really sorry.”
Wright penned pieces on everything from Travolta to Ben Lee to all of pop music in 1997 to Metallica and Soundgarden to R.E.M. to Charles Mingus to Johnny Cash to Led Zep to Curtis Mayfield and Millie Jackson to Luna and Teenage Fanclub to Wesley Willis to British ska to all of ’90s rock to G. Love to Boston to the Shangri-Las to the Replacements. Wright’s final posting on his Facebook page was a list of his 12 favorite Beatles covers; he included two remakes of “I Wanna Hold Your Hand.”
Idolator had this to say about Wright’s passing:
“Wright was an editor for Amazon for some time (that job brought him to Seattle), and his work appeared in publications like USA Today, the Village Voice, Blender, Harp, and the Seattle Weekly. He also won the 1999 Rhino Music Aptitude Test, a fact that seems somewhat trivial at first glance, but if you’ve actually seen the test or some of the people who have failed it miserably, you realize what a testament to his musical knowledge that accolade really is.”
Ned Raggett wrote up a nice obit. Fred Mills has a tribute to Wright in Blurt. Matos has a deeply personal post on Wright as well. Here’s a portion of what Matos had to say:
“Rickey passed away this afternoon at 4:31. Last week he’d had a stroke–apparently more than one, all small, over a period of time–and went to the hospital for treatment. He had surgery and underwent another stroke on the table; he spent most of his final week in a coma. Our friend Rachel and I visited him yesterday. It was not as awful as I’d feared it might be: he still looked like himself, which was encouraging even if everyone knew he wasn’t going to make it. It’s hard not to second-guess how much of this I should be saying, mainly because Rickey was the kind of person who deserves whatever honor you can give him, especially in passing. I’ve seldom known a kinder person, or a better listener, or anyone more enthusiastic about music or film or whatever–and even better, his enthusiasm was catching. When I’m excited about something I yell without meaning to, or just become obnoxious about it. Rickey never did that. He didn’t have to.”
If you’d like to read more of Wright in his own words, you can check out his blog.
Wright’s last blog post had been a hopeful one. It is dated Feb. 4. It was about Obama. He titled it “I love my president.” This is what he had to say He uses the post to print a quote from Obama:
“In the past few days, I’ve heard criticisms that this [stimulus] plan is somehow wanting, and these criticisms echo the very same failed economic theories that led us into this crisis in the first place . . . I reject those theories. And so did the American people when they went to the polls in November and voted resoundingly for change.”
There is an obit from his former employer the Virginian-Pilot:
“‘He had quite a following when he was here and was influential in the local music scene,’ said former Pilot writer Earl Swift. ‘I’ve never known anyone with a more encyclopedic knowledge of music.’”
There is still lots more from his friends and fellow critics. Here’s a really personal recollection of Wright (I’m just quoting a small portion; you should really read the entire entry):
“Rickey used to literally rock and roll. He never stopped moving. Either his leg was always tapping or he’d rock back and forth in his chair like a baby trying to comfort himself. He had a repertoire of postures. Always leaning forward with his hand on his thigh, fingers pointed in and elbow pointed out. He used his hands when he talked, flipping his palms upward in a gesture of offering.
Rickey always looked cool. He was a rock critic and looked the part. He always had a good haircut. He always wore the cool black ankle boots with the pointed toes. He knew how to wear a suit. He walked on his toes a bit which sort of accentuated his little belly. He always had just the right rock ‘n’ roll button on his bag or his jacket.
Rickey loved his cats, Chet and Kettle. When Chet was sick, he went through tremendous lengths and expense to try to keep him alive. When Kettle ran away, he consulted a pet psychic to find her, and found her. He used to talk about what a good soul Chet had and how you could see it in the little cat’s big eyes….
Rickey and I only ever talked about two things: music and love. Our last conversation was about the latter. It occurred around the beginning of January….”
