Another Form of Relief

Recently comminiques from Cult of Sue Todd headquarters (by which I mean their Myspace page) seem to be suggesting that the band may not be long for this world. Which would be a shame if true. While CoST have hardly set the music world alight with their releases so far, each has shown a bunch of potential that would be unfortunate to lose. In a world full of dreary identikit bands, here we have a band that seems to be purely in it for the fun. Random lyrics and curious instrumentation are key here. Still, at the very least, we’ll always have Tampa.

It’s quite a joy to have a proper solo singer-songwriter to write about for once. I don’t seem to run across many solo artists I can get behind these days and the ones that I do tend to be in bands anyway, which kind of negates things. It’s rather nice to discover Jay Brannan then, someone who puts out entirely unique songs by himself.

On first listen, this may sound like standard enough fare, a simplistic love story with a gentle acoustic guitar. Take in the record a few times though and it becomes something so much more. Over the course of four minutes, we run from self-depreciating (”You like the guy on your iPod, not the guy in your bed”) to the vaguely vulgar (”Beating off to forever to you is a fantasy that blows”) to the ultimately optimistic (”Never believed in love at first sight, but now I think I might”). The perfect representation of the average relationship experience then.

It occurred to me recently that most US bands that I listen to come from somewhere on the eastern side of the country. This is by no means set in stone, but it seems that the further west one goes, the less bands I tend to enjoy. There may be a good reason for this, but I’m sure it’s largely coincidence. However, in an attempt to balance things somewhat, I present The Pity Party for your listening enjoyment. They come from LA, a city that seems to have too few good bands given it’s size. Says the guy observing from thousands of miles away.

The first thing that struck me about H.O.T.S. is how much the vocals resemble Life Without Buildings. The female vocals on the track are all over the place, occasionally bordering on the unhinged, which while not to everyone’s liking, is welcomed by myself. Behind all this is a not insubstantial beat that drives the entire song forward at a good pace. It’s all rather dark and reflective, but it’s a nice change of tact from all of the indie pop that I usually end up posting.

Is there some unknown credibility to be found in indie artists covering gangsta rap songs? Ben Folds put out a version of Bitches Ain’t Shit a while ago, and there are probably others at it too. Here we have Nina Gordon covering N.W.A.’s Straight Outta Compton. Now, I know nothing about Nina Gordon beyond the fact that she used to be the lead singer in Veruca Salt, a band I’ve never listened to. I don’t know much about N.W.A. either for that matter. A good blogalist would probably try and learn something about these things to offer up some insightful commentary. Not me. I will however point out that I absolutely love this idea of adapting rap songs into other genres, in this case turning it into a gentle girl and an acoustic guitar combination. If you weren’t paying attention, you wouldn’t even realise she’s singing about capping motherfuckers with an AK-47.

Enon are one of those old dependable bands that I take for granted. I never really go out of my way to listen to them and I don’t own a single Enon record. Yet whenever one of their songs pops up on my iPod, I suddenly realise how damn good they are and that I really should listen to them properly. Almost everything about them is appealing, from the nifty little pop numbers like the one below through to the more abstract pieces. Each time one of their songs plays, I find myself drawn right in. Then the song ends and I completely forget about them again. Until the next time shuffle picks them again anyway.

Ed is Dead laments superb bands that are no longer with us. It’s named in honour of the Pixies song to remind us that even though it’s sad they split up, it’s far worse when they get back together.

It’s hard to believe that it was nearly ten years ago that I first listened to Semisonic, of which their Feeling Strangely Fine album would become the first ‘proper’ album I would ever buy. It’s even harder to believe that the version of FNT that’s below is fifteen years old at this point. Another version of the song went on to appear on the 1996 Great Divide album, but this dates back to when they were putting out demos under the name Pleasure.

It’s kind of sad that they will seemingly forever be those one-hit wonders behind Closing Time, and perhaps, to a lesser extent in the UK, for Secret Smile. All three of their albums were loaded with superb songs, but they seem to be little more than a musical footnote at this point.

Semisonic were my ‘gateway band’ when it comes to indie. Even without a direct connection, it was this band that eventually led me to REM, to Weezer, to Nada Surf and to Ben Folds Five. Which isn’t to say that they are responsible for everything, but they were certainly a catalyst. An entire world of records that would rarely ever be played on the radio entered my sphere, and eventually I’ve ended up here.

Takka Takka often seem like a stealth band on their way to the big time. Since the band settled on a final line up a couple of year ago, they have gone on tour with Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, are putting out a new version of their debut album and have been featured on ABC’s mediocre-a-thon Eli Stone. And yet still no one seems to know who they are. One day soon, Takka Takka are going to breakthrough. The ingredients are all here, they just need that one chance. Whether it be via a hit song or appearing in a tv show that people actually like, Takka Takka will be huge.

The Rentals, or rather The Band Of That Guy Who Was In Weezer, seem to be alive once again. Eight years after their second and seemingly last album, Seven More Minutes, the band have released a new EP. It may seem a little odd to be writing about that release when I haven’t heard it, but I couldn’t resist posting this gem. Translator is a song that was cut from the all over the place Seven More Minutes, and is the epitome of everything that made their first album great. A nice usage of Moog, swirling male-female melodies and just the right amount of distortion. Which begs the question as to why it was left off of the album, given the some of the dreck that did make it on.

The Light Footwork have been off my radar for a while now. It’s been a couple of years since their debut album, and with only one EP since, I’ve perhaps paid them less attention than I should have done. That changed suddenly upon watching the excellent Beulah documentary, A Good Band Is Easy To Kill. I’d completely forgotten that Jay, one half of the Light Footwork, toured with the Beulah as an intern, and it was something of a surprise to see him popping up every now again in the film.

While watching the film kicked off my love of Beulah once again, it also had me returning to that Light Footwork album. The good news is that it’s still as good as I recall, a lovely laid back record that wouldn’t feel out of place in the mid-90s. Which as we all know is when the best music was being made. With a bit of luck we’ll get a new album from them this year and all will be right in the world once more.

I know I’ve posted this song somewhere in the region of thirty to forty times at this point, but seeing as Esiotrot aren’t huge yet, it needs pushing once more. Or more accurately, the band posted a bunch of new songs on their Myspace, all of which are superb, but I can’t post any of those, so you get this one again. Not that repeating this song does it any harm, as it remains my favourite song from last year, which is no mean feat this far on. Usually my ADD music brain would have moved onto something entirely new by this point, but this one remains. The new songs are currently being shopped around to labels who will hopefully put out a new full length album. Be sure to check out Emily Scott Got Married too, the sequel (if songs have sequels) to the song below.