As someone suckled on electronic music, I welcome most well done alternate versions of my favorite songs with open arms, be it remixes or covers. So with that in mind, it may come as quite a surprise that for the longest time, I staunchly refused to participate in karaoke. I believe the words "I hate karaoke," may have even escaped my lips a couple of times.
But then I fell in with a crowd of hardcore karaoke nerds (because those are the best ones to sing with). Every Sunday night, a group of ten to twenty devoted bedroom rockers bare their souls through the medium of karaoke at a divey Bostonian bar on Wilshire. And in that bar without a hard liquor license, something magic happens. These incredibly popular songs are given new life - either in parody or in surprising bouts of serious talent. Aside from the fact that there are elements of the magic and spontenaeity of a live performance (a guy last week brought two harmonicas to accompany Billy Joel's "Piano Man" and Tom Petty's "Last Dance with Mary Jane"), these songs become something completely different and new, both to the singer and to the individual.
So perhaps its fortuitous that the newest Nouvelle Vague album 3 comes out September 15th, just in time for prime karaoke season. The brainchild of French producers Marc Collin and Olivier Libaux, Nouvelle Vague has more than a bit of a karaoke spirit to it. The producers employed French and Brazilian vocalists unfamiliar with the originals to sing bossa nova covers of new wave hits such as Buzzcocks "Ever Fallen in Love," and Joy Division's "Love Will Tear Us Apart." Though there is a large element of kitsch, the songs have staying power do to the use of ingenue like vocals that add a genuine, endearing and sensual quality to songs from a typically darker genre. 3 is a venture away from bossa nova and further into sounds of Americana that is, in my opinon, successful. What I like so much about this album is that many of the original artists do backup vocals for covers of their songs, which lends an air of authenticity to the coquettish female vocals and gives a pretty damn official stamp of approval for all the purists out there.
Possibly my favorite track on this album is the opener "Master & Servant," originally sung by Depeche Mode. The lyrics are sexual in nature, but when paired with the digital production and detached vocals of Depeche Mode, they take on an almost religious connotation. Nouvelle Vague's version is downright intimate, with delicate female vocals curling suggestively around twanging guitars for a version that probably wouldn't make a bad song for a lap dance. The addition of Martin Gore's backing vocals add a bit of the creepiness from the more choral original for a song that smacks with "True Blood" naughtiness and just the right amount of hillbilly appeal. Other supported highlights include Echo and the Bunnymen's Ian McCullough sings backup on the dreamy and echoey "All My Colors."
Not to discredit the songs that are purely Nouvelle Vague, however, which are equally awesome. There is a whiskey gravity in the vocals on "The American" (originally by Simple Minds), and a hilarious childlike simplicity and dawdling pace to the Sex Pistols' "God Save the Queen." On this end of the spectrum, the other standout track is their version of Plastic Bertrand's "Ca Plane Por Moi," which has left me wondering all week if an American bar will have a French song available for karaoke, if I will ever be able to sing as fast as Plastic Bertrand, and if Nouvelle Vague versions of songs will ever make it into the karaoke mix. The integrity of this frantic, French, Ramones sounding original manages to remain intact; the trademark "ooh oohs" and butchered French make the song cute, while the wise interpretation of the song to ska, which still pays homage to punk, helps retain the original's boisterous, free wheeling spirit.
Leesten to zem on Last FM!
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Fink - Sort of Revolution (Cinematic Orchestra Remix)
I have to say, as far as remixes go, this is probably one of the lightest hands I've ever seen from the producer's side. My guess is that Cinematic Orchestra loved the song but were hesitant to change much for fear of ruining it. That and the fact that what Cinematic Orchestra does best is quiet, awe inspiring music that chills you to the core with hushed, minimalist electronic production that subtly enhances hushed, beautifully eerie male vocals.
Not that Fink didn't have that sound going for him to begin with. Fink (Finian Greenhall) was born in Bristol (home to a tiny little trip hop band you may have heard of called Portishead); naturally, he was drawn to ambient electronica and was signed to one of my favorite labels Ninja Tune as a trip hop artist. In 2000 however, restlessness and perhaps the realization that he was a prodigy inspired Fink to make the complete changeover to singer-songwriter. He remained signed to the traditionally electronic label (a testament to his talent) despite the distinct organic nature of his new sound. While the genre changeover was extreme, Fink managed to preserve the integrity of his sound. His trip hop work has the same calm and tonal range, and the resonance of the bass from hip hop beats is still present in his full-bodied voice.
"Sort of Revolution" is the title track off of Fink's most recent album and its a fairly accurate representation of the album's rich, mellow autumnal vibe, with the same warmth and depth as Fat Freddy's Drop but distilled down to a solo artist with less jam band and reggae and more acoustic guitar and strings.
While the original "Sort of Revolution" has hints of dub, Cinematic Orchestra remove any traces of it making their remix more somber and focusing on the restrained beauty of violins and piano. This song is frighteningly intimate - every plucking of the guitar resonates as crisply as if it were in the same room as you, and Fink's voice is luxurious and low. The effect is that of being drawn into an incredibly comfortable bed on a cold day, sinking into a down comforter until you're completely enveloped. Not unpleasant in the least, but you better be ready to stay there for awhile.
LISTEN.
I like the lyrics for this song as well. . .
Not that Fink didn't have that sound going for him to begin with. Fink (Finian Greenhall) was born in Bristol (home to a tiny little trip hop band you may have heard of called Portishead); naturally, he was drawn to ambient electronica and was signed to one of my favorite labels Ninja Tune as a trip hop artist. In 2000 however, restlessness and perhaps the realization that he was a prodigy inspired Fink to make the complete changeover to singer-songwriter. He remained signed to the traditionally electronic label (a testament to his talent) despite the distinct organic nature of his new sound. While the genre changeover was extreme, Fink managed to preserve the integrity of his sound. His trip hop work has the same calm and tonal range, and the resonance of the bass from hip hop beats is still present in his full-bodied voice.
"Sort of Revolution" is the title track off of Fink's most recent album and its a fairly accurate representation of the album's rich, mellow autumnal vibe, with the same warmth and depth as Fat Freddy's Drop but distilled down to a solo artist with less jam band and reggae and more acoustic guitar and strings.
While the original "Sort of Revolution" has hints of dub, Cinematic Orchestra remove any traces of it making their remix more somber and focusing on the restrained beauty of violins and piano. This song is frighteningly intimate - every plucking of the guitar resonates as crisply as if it were in the same room as you, and Fink's voice is luxurious and low. The effect is that of being drawn into an incredibly comfortable bed on a cold day, sinking into a down comforter until you're completely enveloped. Not unpleasant in the least, but you better be ready to stay there for awhile.
LISTEN.
I like the lyrics for this song as well. . .
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Weepy Williamsburg
One of the downfalls about being a professional music reviewer is that sometimes, music becomes work. One of the sad things about being a recreational music reviewer is that to escape / procrastinate writing about work music, I find myself blogging about fun music. But if it wasn't for procrastination, I likely wouldn't have created a blog to begin with; and so I find myself guiltily blogging about some great new indie rock when I'm meant to be writing about a New Age album that shall remain nameless.
Perhaps it's my recent trip to New York and the fact that a significant portion of my time there was spent melting with all the hipsters in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, but all this indie rock is really ahem, striking a chord with me.
I always thought indie rock was more of a fall winter thing but when I hear the weird falsetto, grand sweeping chorus, and U2 like guitar riff of the Temper Trap's "Sweet Disposition," I can't think of anything else I'd want to listen to while I cut my jeans into shorts and roll up the sleeves to my plaid shirt. The fact that it's in the 500 Days of Summer soundtrack probably doesn't hurt either. This burgeoning Australian band is no one trick pony either - while they still employ the falsetto vocals on some of their songs, the imminently catchy "Fader," has the bounce of classic Jimmy Eat World with a bit more of the delicacy you'd expect from a group of guys this skinny.
Then there is The XX. Hailing from London, this band's music is the stuff mixtapes are made of. If you ignore the fact that they're all 19, their music is perfect soundtrack for a seduction already lubricated with Pabst Blue Ribbon. Notably is "Islands", which boasts a sentimental duet with trembling female vocals and rich male vocals. The cool, understated guitar resonates with the same vibe as the king of cool and understated (as well as King of Convenience member) Erlend Oye, complete with, god yes, New Wave synth accents.
Lastly comes a discovery made at an honest to God Williamsburg barbecue - the Dodos. The band is signed to New York's own Frenchkiss Records and have positively delighted me with their dependably indie rock. Songs like the homespun "Undeclared" create a sense of familiarity and comfort, not unlike the music of Juno, while "Fools" resonates with echoey harmonies that perfectly offset urgent acoustic guitar bashing.
So make a little iPod playlist, rethink your seasonal music choices, and enjoy slapping mosquitoes and sweating out the end of summer to these cool indie sounds - I know I sure will.
Perhaps it's my recent trip to New York and the fact that a significant portion of my time there was spent melting with all the hipsters in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, but all this indie rock is really ahem, striking a chord with me.
I always thought indie rock was more of a fall winter thing but when I hear the weird falsetto, grand sweeping chorus, and U2 like guitar riff of the Temper Trap's "Sweet Disposition," I can't think of anything else I'd want to listen to while I cut my jeans into shorts and roll up the sleeves to my plaid shirt. The fact that it's in the 500 Days of Summer soundtrack probably doesn't hurt either. This burgeoning Australian band is no one trick pony either - while they still employ the falsetto vocals on some of their songs, the imminently catchy "Fader," has the bounce of classic Jimmy Eat World with a bit more of the delicacy you'd expect from a group of guys this skinny.
Then there is The XX. Hailing from London, this band's music is the stuff mixtapes are made of. If you ignore the fact that they're all 19, their music is perfect soundtrack for a seduction already lubricated with Pabst Blue Ribbon. Notably is "Islands", which boasts a sentimental duet with trembling female vocals and rich male vocals. The cool, understated guitar resonates with the same vibe as the king of cool and understated (as well as King of Convenience member) Erlend Oye, complete with, god yes, New Wave synth accents.
Lastly comes a discovery made at an honest to God Williamsburg barbecue - the Dodos. The band is signed to New York's own Frenchkiss Records and have positively delighted me with their dependably indie rock. Songs like the homespun "Undeclared" create a sense of familiarity and comfort, not unlike the music of Juno, while "Fools" resonates with echoey harmonies that perfectly offset urgent acoustic guitar bashing.
So make a little iPod playlist, rethink your seasonal music choices, and enjoy slapping mosquitoes and sweating out the end of summer to these cool indie sounds - I know I sure will.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Getting a bit Senti-metal: Anvil, Guns N' Roses
Ok, so a blog about metal music is likely the last thing I would expect from me. But hey, it's my blog's one year birthday (!!!) and I think I'm entitled to branch out into some uncharted territories here.
I have to back this up by saying the urge to keep rocking harder is not a new sensation. I flirted with hardcore rock in high school (and admittedly the boys who liked it), and the urge for dance music comes from that same primal place of wanting a rhythm to shake you to your core and make you move in uncontrollable ways, not unlike an addict wanting a more intense experience. It is for this precise reason that on the rare occasion that I choose to embarrass myself at karaoke that I always fall back on Guns N' Roses "Sweet Child of Mine." While I don't think I will ever be a rockstar, for those few moments that I get to yell in my best cracking falsetto, shake out my mane, and play some air guitar that would only be improved by more beer, I get that satisfying whiff of what it must be like to truly rock. And it's AWESOME.
So it was only appropriately that tonight I should go see Anvil: The Story of Anvil, a touching tale about a metal band that had all the ingredients for success but whose souffle never rose. It was poignant, funny, and shed a glaring backstage light on a rock band with thirty years of history.
But the uglier, unflattering side of rock can be beautiful sometimes and that's where metal comes in. I loved the raw electric energy of Anvil's "Metal on Metal," with it's shredding guitars that would undoubtedly leave my ears ringing post gig, and the deliciously creepy vocals of Lips Kudlow that were punctured with deeply soul shaking animal growls.
And as I watched footage of these (mostly male) audiences clad in black and rocking out harder than I probably have in my life, I sort of got it. While it may be unlikely that I will ever reach the level where I start following acts such as Bone Gnawer, I respect what fathered this urge to rock and have to give kudos to anyone who has the delicate ear to hear the subtleties among the subgenres of metal and give themselves up to such an honest, raw place.
In addition to that, I think there's something to be said for the metal audience (again, coming from my somewhat limited experience) as the general tendency to assume that metal is mean music (which some of it may very well be). I'm going to go so far as to say that I think metal might actually make people nice. Having something like metal as such a controlled healthy outlet for anger and agression, I think it ends up being the musical equivalent of a punching bag. I mean, I've met my fair share of assholes who listen to Jack Johnson so why can't it work the other way around? The members of Anvil came off as stand up, even sweet (and often sensitive) guys, and I'd say they were an exception to the rule except that the few individuals I know who are into "scary" music happen to be some of the kindest people I know.
So perhaps it's time to not be quite so afraid of the dark. Or at least recognize its redeeming qualities.
For some serious metal connosseurship from a seriously nice guy, check out Cerebral Metalhead.
I have to back this up by saying the urge to keep rocking harder is not a new sensation. I flirted with hardcore rock in high school (and admittedly the boys who liked it), and the urge for dance music comes from that same primal place of wanting a rhythm to shake you to your core and make you move in uncontrollable ways, not unlike an addict wanting a more intense experience. It is for this precise reason that on the rare occasion that I choose to embarrass myself at karaoke that I always fall back on Guns N' Roses "Sweet Child of Mine." While I don't think I will ever be a rockstar, for those few moments that I get to yell in my best cracking falsetto, shake out my mane, and play some air guitar that would only be improved by more beer, I get that satisfying whiff of what it must be like to truly rock. And it's AWESOME.
So it was only appropriately that tonight I should go see Anvil: The Story of Anvil, a touching tale about a metal band that had all the ingredients for success but whose souffle never rose. It was poignant, funny, and shed a glaring backstage light on a rock band with thirty years of history.
But the uglier, unflattering side of rock can be beautiful sometimes and that's where metal comes in. I loved the raw electric energy of Anvil's "Metal on Metal," with it's shredding guitars that would undoubtedly leave my ears ringing post gig, and the deliciously creepy vocals of Lips Kudlow that were punctured with deeply soul shaking animal growls.
And as I watched footage of these (mostly male) audiences clad in black and rocking out harder than I probably have in my life, I sort of got it. While it may be unlikely that I will ever reach the level where I start following acts such as Bone Gnawer, I respect what fathered this urge to rock and have to give kudos to anyone who has the delicate ear to hear the subtleties among the subgenres of metal and give themselves up to such an honest, raw place.
In addition to that, I think there's something to be said for the metal audience (again, coming from my somewhat limited experience) as the general tendency to assume that metal is mean music (which some of it may very well be). I'm going to go so far as to say that I think metal might actually make people nice. Having something like metal as such a controlled healthy outlet for anger and agression, I think it ends up being the musical equivalent of a punching bag. I mean, I've met my fair share of assholes who listen to Jack Johnson so why can't it work the other way around? The members of Anvil came off as stand up, even sweet (and often sensitive) guys, and I'd say they were an exception to the rule except that the few individuals I know who are into "scary" music happen to be some of the kindest people I know.
So perhaps it's time to not be quite so afraid of the dark. Or at least recognize its redeeming qualities.
For some serious metal connosseurship from a seriously nice guy, check out Cerebral Metalhead.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Sonos at Banana Republic (album Sonos Sings)
It's rare that a concert blows me away. I can go to a gig, have a good time, but to leave a concert steeped in the flavor of the music to the point where I leave and tell people "ohmygodyouhavetoheartheseguystheyreamaaaazing," well, that's a less frequent occurrence. But there was just so much about this event that really set it apart from other concerts. An acapella group singing covers of lesser known pop artists such as Jazzanova and Bird and the Bee at Banana Republic? Well, at least I knew it would be different. And it was a pretty cool branded experience as well - I know I'll think differently next time I walk into Banana Republic.
There, amid this season's shorts and brightly colored T-shirts, something amazing happened. A group of six young people who could have been going out to dinner, shopping, or doing any other mundane thing began producing an incredible range of meticulously arranged sounds to reproduce some old and new favorites. Their single is the brilliant, crystalline remake of Radiohead's "Everything in it's Right Place," with all the originally digital atmospherics sounding slightly less creepy but no less precise when created organically. Their version of The Bird and the Bee's "Again and Again" showed a keen ear for selection as well. The original lends itself very well to acappella arrangement and is given new life and a greater sense of engagement with vocals interpreting Greg Kurstin's skillful production.
Their cover of The Jackson 5's "I Want You Back" was artfully arranged and remarkably relevant but the two songs in their set that really sold me were ones whose originals I wasn't familiar with but visited after. Their version of Bon Iver's "Re: Stacks" captures the whispery essence of it nicely, but in making the lead vocals female makes it crisper and adds a girlish sweetness that would make it perfect in for one of those heart wrenching scenes in Grey's Anatomy or Garden State. But my absolute favorite was their version of Jazzanova's "Little Bird" (and upon listening to the original I have to give a lot of credit to Jazzanova where it's due.) Sonos manages to capture the warmth and fullness of the strings backing Jose James rich, buttery (yes, I said it!) vocals while putting a more ponderous spin on it.
Their debut is slated to be released September 15th on Verve, but I highly recommend catching a live show - it's truly an experience and brings the group to life as artists in their own right, as opposed to the cool novelty they happen to be as well.
Hear stuff on MySpace!
There, amid this season's shorts and brightly colored T-shirts, something amazing happened. A group of six young people who could have been going out to dinner, shopping, or doing any other mundane thing began producing an incredible range of meticulously arranged sounds to reproduce some old and new favorites. Their single is the brilliant, crystalline remake of Radiohead's "Everything in it's Right Place," with all the originally digital atmospherics sounding slightly less creepy but no less precise when created organically. Their version of The Bird and the Bee's "Again and Again" showed a keen ear for selection as well. The original lends itself very well to acappella arrangement and is given new life and a greater sense of engagement with vocals interpreting Greg Kurstin's skillful production.
Their cover of The Jackson 5's "I Want You Back" was artfully arranged and remarkably relevant but the two songs in their set that really sold me were ones whose originals I wasn't familiar with but visited after. Their version of Bon Iver's "Re: Stacks" captures the whispery essence of it nicely, but in making the lead vocals female makes it crisper and adds a girlish sweetness that would make it perfect in for one of those heart wrenching scenes in Grey's Anatomy or Garden State. But my absolute favorite was their version of Jazzanova's "Little Bird" (and upon listening to the original I have to give a lot of credit to Jazzanova where it's due.) Sonos manages to capture the warmth and fullness of the strings backing Jose James rich, buttery (yes, I said it!) vocals while putting a more ponderous spin on it.
Their debut is slated to be released September 15th on Verve, but I highly recommend catching a live show - it's truly an experience and brings the group to life as artists in their own right, as opposed to the cool novelty they happen to be as well.
Hear stuff on MySpace!
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Just Jack's "All Night Cinema" and Miike Snow's "Miike Snow"
I'm a big fan of pairings - wine and cheese, beer and sausage, cookies and more cookies. . .Some things just work all the better when they have a little friend. The same can definitely go for albums. Much as I like to listen to songs and albums over and over again until I never want to again for that week, there's something nice about the groove created by two albums that have complimentary flows and vibes. Plus, you still get to enjoy the obsessive continuity of listening to an entire album. Such is the case for two fantastic recent releases, Just Jack's All Night Cinema, and Miike Snow's self titled debut. Both albums share a certain disco influenced grooviness paired with vocals that have the restraint of indie rock for a musical experience that lives between chill and dancey.
To be fair, this is not my first time extolling Just Jack, but All Night Cinema truly deserves its own rant. With his tongue in cheek and obviously accented rhymes, Jack Allsopp (aka Just Jack), has often been likened to the Streets. Having enjoyed much less success, that is where the similarities end. Whereas Mike Skinner's lyrics speak of growing up in urban London, Allsopp's are a bit more emotional and much less angsty. The album kicks off with the jaunty string laden "Embers," which ebbs and flows into some truly lovely cinematic crescendos. It's immediately followed by the micheviously jaunty "253," that has the same effect on me as the carefree sounds of Badly Drawn Boy. There's the same prominent use of strings with the addition of the harmonica and carefree whistling to set the tone for lyrics like "over years the love receeded / a bit like her old man's hairline." Delving deeper into the disco spectrum are foot tappers like the amusing "Doctor, Doctor" and "Goth in the Disco," but one of my favorite songs (that incidentally sounds most Streets-like) is the mellower sounds of "Blood." With a recessed hip-hop beat and lyrical content hinting at some seriously fucked up family issues, there's a a cool sinister edge to Allssopp's sound that reminds me of those songs of his that grabbed me to begin with.
The disco beats and male vocals of All Night Cinema make a smooth transition into Miike Snow's excellently produced self-titled debut. Though seemingly novices on the scene, these Swedes have written and produced for the likes of Kylie Minogue, Madonna, Britney Spears, and Daniel Merriweather, alongside producer legend Mark Ronson. Not bad for street cred. And it doesn't hurt that the album is pretty fantastic - I think their sound is something like a cross between the disco-danciness of Jamiroqaui combined the orchestral pop of Arcade Fire and a bit of house music effects thrown in. I'm actually a fan of the entire album as a continuous listen (which is rare), but I think the first three songs are absolutely killer. There is the lilting, undisputable single "Animal" that begs to be accompanied by a light show and oversized shades. It's followed by "Burial," which is echoey, dripping, hipster bliss, much in the same vein as Animal Collective, with those grand sweeping bits that makes everyone go nuts when they hear Arcade Fire. But the song that gets me everytime is "Silvia." It has a ton of film and TV potential emotionally and sonically, though lyrically it won't do much, so I think it's a song destined to be enjoyed for the sake of enjoyment. It's echoey and space with heady synths and sounds; but despite the electronic-ness of it, there's the Coldplay type piano which grounds it in pop, as well as aching wistful vocals that make you love Silvia just a little bit too.
Just Jack on MySpace
Miike Snow on Last FM
Bunch of free Miike Snow mp3s and remixes!!
To be fair, this is not my first time extolling Just Jack, but All Night Cinema truly deserves its own rant. With his tongue in cheek and obviously accented rhymes, Jack Allsopp (aka Just Jack), has often been likened to the Streets. Having enjoyed much less success, that is where the similarities end. Whereas Mike Skinner's lyrics speak of growing up in urban London, Allsopp's are a bit more emotional and much less angsty. The album kicks off with the jaunty string laden "Embers," which ebbs and flows into some truly lovely cinematic crescendos. It's immediately followed by the micheviously jaunty "253," that has the same effect on me as the carefree sounds of Badly Drawn Boy. There's the same prominent use of strings with the addition of the harmonica and carefree whistling to set the tone for lyrics like "over years the love receeded / a bit like her old man's hairline." Delving deeper into the disco spectrum are foot tappers like the amusing "Doctor, Doctor" and "Goth in the Disco," but one of my favorite songs (that incidentally sounds most Streets-like) is the mellower sounds of "Blood." With a recessed hip-hop beat and lyrical content hinting at some seriously fucked up family issues, there's a a cool sinister edge to Allssopp's sound that reminds me of those songs of his that grabbed me to begin with.
The disco beats and male vocals of All Night Cinema make a smooth transition into Miike Snow's excellently produced self-titled debut. Though seemingly novices on the scene, these Swedes have written and produced for the likes of Kylie Minogue, Madonna, Britney Spears, and Daniel Merriweather, alongside producer legend Mark Ronson. Not bad for street cred. And it doesn't hurt that the album is pretty fantastic - I think their sound is something like a cross between the disco-danciness of Jamiroqaui combined the orchestral pop of Arcade Fire and a bit of house music effects thrown in. I'm actually a fan of the entire album as a continuous listen (which is rare), but I think the first three songs are absolutely killer. There is the lilting, undisputable single "Animal" that begs to be accompanied by a light show and oversized shades. It's followed by "Burial," which is echoey, dripping, hipster bliss, much in the same vein as Animal Collective, with those grand sweeping bits that makes everyone go nuts when they hear Arcade Fire. But the song that gets me everytime is "Silvia." It has a ton of film and TV potential emotionally and sonically, though lyrically it won't do much, so I think it's a song destined to be enjoyed for the sake of enjoyment. It's echoey and space with heady synths and sounds; but despite the electronic-ness of it, there's the Coldplay type piano which grounds it in pop, as well as aching wistful vocals that make you love Silvia just a little bit too.
Just Jack on MySpace
Miike Snow on Last FM
Bunch of free Miike Snow mp3s and remixes!!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Anil Chawla & Dale Anderson - "Minimalize"
So as a former English major and current geek, I have to say I've always been a big fan of onomatopoeia (though not spelling it). Tracks with simple names like "Minimalize" that are, well, minimal house, just tickle my linguistic sensibilities, in addition to my eardrums.
It's been awhile (or at least according to my blog) that a new house track has really grabbed my attention, and at first listen, I thought this song was some mid 90's classic that I had just discovered. It had those echo-ey blips, open soundscapes and lush trumpets that I've come to associate with a niche market of music only still popular among ex DJs in the UK and Germany and fifteen year olds on ecstasy with far too much day glo jewelry.
So it was to my delight when I found out that Anil Chawla & Dale Anderson's album Roadhouse came out just a couple months ago on none other than Global Underground, one of the labels still delivering quality house music to that few still devoted to headphones and vinyl. These are the guys who will spin for you on a Monday night, and do their duty lugging their records between Ibiza and Miami for the ones achieving enlightenment through partying.
Roadhouse's album cover basically says it all with its simplistic design of undoubtedly airbrushed closeups of the two DJs' faces. Because after going to countless clubs all over the world, I've come to the conclusion that that's what electronic music is most of the time - two regular looking guys in jeans, T-shirts, and killer sneakers given supreme powers due to decks, laptops, lights, and whatever you're on at the moment. And when you hear a track like the sparse yet solid groove of "Minimalize," you can hear that same understated house magic transforming an empty warehouse into a pulsating mass of people having the best night of their lives, which is all anyone ever wants when they go out anyways.
Anil Chawla
You better believe he's wearing shades in multiple photos.
Dale Anderson
Clearly having a sexiness competition with Anil.
It's been awhile (or at least according to my blog) that a new house track has really grabbed my attention, and at first listen, I thought this song was some mid 90's classic that I had just discovered. It had those echo-ey blips, open soundscapes and lush trumpets that I've come to associate with a niche market of music only still popular among ex DJs in the UK and Germany and fifteen year olds on ecstasy with far too much day glo jewelry.
So it was to my delight when I found out that Anil Chawla & Dale Anderson's album Roadhouse came out just a couple months ago on none other than Global Underground, one of the labels still delivering quality house music to that few still devoted to headphones and vinyl. These are the guys who will spin for you on a Monday night, and do their duty lugging their records between Ibiza and Miami for the ones achieving enlightenment through partying.
Roadhouse's album cover basically says it all with its simplistic design of undoubtedly airbrushed closeups of the two DJs' faces. Because after going to countless clubs all over the world, I've come to the conclusion that that's what electronic music is most of the time - two regular looking guys in jeans, T-shirts, and killer sneakers given supreme powers due to decks, laptops, lights, and whatever you're on at the moment. And when you hear a track like the sparse yet solid groove of "Minimalize," you can hear that same understated house magic transforming an empty warehouse into a pulsating mass of people having the best night of their lives, which is all anyone ever wants when they go out anyways.
Anil Chawla
You better believe he's wearing shades in multiple photos.
Dale Anderson
Clearly having a sexiness competition with Anil.
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