The Danforths: Look Out for the Wolves
There are records that you listen to and they don't have much of an immediate effect. And there are those that, upon hearing for the first time, you know you've got something incredibly good. That being said, the first time I listened to
Lookout for the Wolves, it blew my mind-hole. The Danforths have created an intriguing, deep record that only gets better each time you listen to it.
The opening track, "Goodnight in German" starts out in a bizarre chant that sounds like some truly dark stuff. Y'know, to play Dungeons and Dragons to, or something like that. But it gives way to driving guitars and harmonies that are so good, I simply can't believe what I'm hearing. The album continues in a truly wayward fashion, adeptly hopping genres, yet it all flows together seamlessly.
All of the songs on the album are stand-out tracks. Personally, I find that "Oh oh oh Jamaica" is the perfect blend of abstract, rock and pure pop pleasure on the album. I would welcome arguments for any other song on the record though. Even the cover of Stephin Merrit's "Movies in My Head" fits perfectly.
Not only is the music good, but the packaging on the special edition from Modern Radio Record Label is equally entertaing. It includes a tie-in coloring book that references each of the tracks entitled "He's Cool. Him's My Friend." The covers are also unique, screen printed by Chris Danforth himself (I guess he had some help too). Haven't seen the version put out by Essay Records yet, but obviously, the music is good enough that the packaging is only a bonus.
It's the kind of music that is so rich, you've got to be curious as to how the pull it off on-stage. So, should you get the chance to see them live, I'd highly recommend you take the opportunity. If you don't have the chance, we have some
video from their show August 19, 2005 in the Productions section of the site. Check it out.
Various Artists - See You on the Moon: Songs For Kids of All Ages
In my opinion, perhaps the greatest kids' song of the modern era is the theme from
Spongebob Squarepants.
First, a pirate sings it, and pirates are cool.
It uses the word 'porous', always a bonus.
It has an upbeat tempo and a bright, major key melody.
And structurally, with a simple call and response, the song is perfect for kids.
Every other line is simply yelling the inherently amusing combination of consonants and vowels that identify the show's protagonist.
It's no mere sing-along; it demands listeners join in at the top of their lungs.
And what child doesn't like making a lot of noise?
The same child who loves sitting quietly for hours on end.
The same fictional child who loves the über-chill compilation
See You on the Moon:
Songs for Kids of All Ages.
There's some things to like about the album.
Hipster favorites, indie-stars, and critical darlings (or in the case of Sufjan Stevens, all three at once) all contribute tracks, as well as a bunch of bands I've never heard of, but I bet that Brett has.
Personally, I was only listening because of the Kid Koala track featuring Lederhosen Lucil, a novelty act Koala brought along on a tour I saw.
"Fruit Belt" is the same sort of dumb-ass song she sang live, but I really enjoyed her ridiculous performance.
But on listening to the album straight through, I realized the album was little more than a marketing ploy. I'd even challenge that the album was designed for children at all. A much more accurate subtitle would have been Songs for Parents of a Very Specific Age and Sensibilities. I sympathize with these young, hip parents, but this really isn't the album. Your kids will not like it. They may tolerate it, but they won't like it.
Perhaps the hope is that sedate music will lead to sedate kids. At least half the songs are soft, slow ballads, the kind of thing I would have hated as a child. Now I just find these songs a little too precious and sweet. And there's no excuse for Broken Social Scene's decision to play "Puff the Magic Dragon" so incredibly slow, milking every line for maximum schmaltz. I've never cared for the song at half the length.
The best stuff just isn't the kind of thing I can see kids being into. Apostle of Hustle (featuring the Huskies) cut-and-paste playground rhyme "24 Robbers" is good, although reminiscent of "The Clapping Song". Like many on the album, this track seems to have been selected more for its tangential connection to children rather than its direct appeal to them. Same deal with The Great Lakes Swimmers' title track, and Hot Chip's "I Can't Wake Up". I assume the inclusion of Fembots' "Under the Bed" was included only because they couldn't afford the rights to a cover of Metallica's "Enter Sandman". The songs are both about nightmares but "Sandman" has much better riffs and is only slightly less scary than Fembots' Tom-Waits-at-a-carnival tone. If you're going to scar your children, it might as well be with James Hetfield. What I like about these songs is the sophistication and complexity. Admirable though those qualities may be, they're hardly the attributes kids care about.
Perhaps my assumptions about what children might like are wrong. I think more likely is that the album was never meant to appeal to kids so much as parents who want some cool music to play in the car. Even someone relatively benign like Sufjan Stevens (present with the saccharine carol "The Friendly Beasts") has a song or two on their album like "John Wayne Gacy Jr." that you can't play for a six-year-old. Everything (except perhaps that creepy Fembots track) is child-safe, but that's not really the point of the phrase for Kids is it? There's not a single good sing-along track on See You on the Moon. Never once does this album demand more than passive observation. No counting songs, no clapping patterns, no silly dances. And not once is the listener meant to scream at the top of their lungs. While not really a bad album, there's not a single track on See You on the Moon: Songs for Kids of All Ages that comes close to the pure joy of yelling out the name of a cartoon invertebrate.
Destroyer: Destroyer's Rubies
All the records by The New Pornographers are worth giving a listen-that much is a given. Classifying that project as a "supergroup" didn't make sense to me at first blush. I mean, sure, you've got Neko Case, who everyone adores; but beyond that, I didn't think those Canadians really had much of a supergroup pedigree, at least not in the same way, as say, the Traveling Wilburys. I liked Zumpano OK, but I knew nothing of Destroyer.
So, loving the Dan Bejar (née Destroyer) tracks with The New Pornographers as I did, it was time for some research. The first records were good, not great, but good. Then 2004's
Your Blues made me think that, while it looked good on paper, prog-rock-opera was a terrible idea for a genre of music. So it was with much hesitation that I approached
Destroyer's Rubies. To be fair, it was fairly forgettable upon first listen—pleasant enough. But as with so many things, upon repeated listening, the brilliance reveals itself.
Dan Bejar is an intriguing songwriter. I don't know why the refrain of the first couple of songs refer to the title of his aforementioned bomb of an album,
Your Blues, but I guess that adds to the mystery. Or maybe it's all about reminding you how much better this album was over the last one. That's not all, though; a lot of folks complain he's too obtuse, but for some perverse reason, I enjoy having to look up things like where
Clytemnestra fits into greek mythology, (She was either a slut or a baddass, depending on who tells the story). He's not all obscure references though. He falls back on repetition, poking fun at other artists lyrics, and the usual indie rock idolatry stuff.
What's good about this album, though, is its infectious melodies and huge sound. I couldn't tell you how many tracks are recorded on a song like "3,000 Flowers" and I don't particularly care either. It just sounds good. The past few days, though, I've found myself humming "Priest's Knees" and "Your Blood" and just wanting to listen to the record again and again. It's also worthy of note that on a few tracks, Destroyer employs probably the best use of saxophone I've heard on an album in an incredibly long time.
It's not like Bejar and the rest of Destroyer reinvent the wheel; there are a couple of moments highly reminiscent of earlier works like
Streethawk: A Seduction. It's no matter though. Instead of a retread, it comes off more like musicians at the top of their game. Just like one would if they were in, say, a supergroup.
