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El Xicano, La Grande Paura

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The last time we heard from El Xicano was approximately this time last year, when he joined us for an installment of A Good Read A Good Listen and A Good Drink. His long-awaited EP La Grande Paura (The Great Fear) has at long last been turned loose upon the world, and it is just as delightful as I remembered.

By delightful I mean: Perfect for a rainy day just on the edge of chilly, as it is here. You could probably also sort Halloween candy to this music. Or carve a pumpkin. Perhaps work on the final touches of your costume.

Check it out:

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A Good Read A Good Listen and A Good Drink: Pelicans and Their Allies

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

I was initially intrigued by Just Like July by Pelicans and Their Allies because a) that’s an awesome band name, and I wanted to see what they sounded like and b) the title references July Johnson from Lonesome Dove, and I’m a sucker for those kinds of cross-cultural references. When I pressed play, I was further reeled in by the power-pop tempo and the bright cello ribbon that gleams between the drums. But the thing that caused me to go and back and listen to it a few more times was the overarching message: This may not be the life (story) you had planned. It is the life (story) you can choose. Make it the best life (story) you can.

The rest of their self-titled EP will be out in late November. I can also recommend For All the Lonely Scientists and Nerds in Love.

Meanwhile, however, I am going to turn the floor over to Pelicans and Their Allies, aka Dayana Yochim and Robert Higgs, who have joined us today to discuss a favorite book, song and drink.

Pelicans and Their Allies (Dayana Yochim, left, Robert Higgs, right.) Photo credit: Emily Goodstein

Pelicans and Their Allies (Dayana Yochim, left, Robert Higgs, right.) Photo credit: Emily Goodstein

A Good Read

Robert: I first came across Dan Kennedy by listening to the podcasts Jordan, Jesse, Go! and The Moth. He’s a great self-deprecating and hilarious storyteller, a loveable and self-aware slacker. At the time I heard him on these podcasts he was telling stories from his memoir, Rock On: An Office Power Ballad, about how he worked as an executive at a major record label (Atlantic, maybe?)[ed note: yes, Atlantic!] thinking he would fuck shit up from the inside, like the true punk rocker he fancied himself to be at the time. But he just ended up doing things like writing the copy for a full page magazine ad congratulating Phil Collins on all his years of success, and pretending like he knew what he was doing. It’s a great book that made me laugh out loud a lot and reaffirmed my love-hate relationship with the mainstream record industry.

I’m currently reading his first novel, American Spirit. It’s just as funny, but with a lot more heart. It’s the story of an executive who loses his job and ends up living in his leased BMW (or as he calls it, “the Bavarian land yacht”) and popping pills and taking crafting and yoga classes. The best thing about it is Kennedy’s ability to maintain a tone that is pitiful and sad, but also hilarious and even uplifting throughout. Both books are great, so just pick whichever sounds best to you. If you like the one you get, you’ll just end up reading the other, too.

Dayana: The Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death, Corinne May Botz. A photographic account of the work of Frances Glessner Lee, a well-to-do grandmother (an heiress, no less) who built meticulously reconstructed dollhouse crime scenes based on real-life cases in order to train investigators in the 1940s and ‘50s about the art and science of forensic evidence. Accident? Murder? Suicide? What does the (adorable/macabre) evidence tell you?

The book, which features details from 18 fully functional dioramas (working window shades; eensy weensy pencils with real lead; blood spatter on true-to-scale wallpaper pattern from the crime scene), appeals to the crafter of creepy things in me. That Frances was able to break through the bulletproof glass ceiling of the era to become a Captain in the New Hampshire police department based on her forensic work, well, that deserves a robust, “You go, girl!”

A Good Listen

Robert: I’ve been listening to The Tallest Man On Earth ever since I heard John Richards play “I Won’t Be Found” on the KEXP Music That Matters podcast five or six years ago. As soon as I heard it I bought the record and have bought every Tallest Man On Earth album ever since. Every one of them is great all the way through, especially his newest, Dark Bird is Home, which is a little different than the rest. All the previous records were mostly intimate solo performances–just him with a guitar or a banjo. Every now and then a song might have a bass on it, or a second guitar, but everything was pretty stripped down. I didn’t know the newest one had a full band until I started listening to it.

It’s funny how changes can be so unsettling at first. I couldn’t help but think that the solo performance element was one of the things I loved most about him, so the idea of full band arrangements made me think, “OH NO. If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.” But, of course, what’s great are the songs that he writes, and the new arrangements elevate the songs and make them so lush and beautiful. Plus now when you see him live you get to hear some of the old songs played by a full band and it’s a gorgeous change. Here he is with his amazing band on Conan:

Dayana: The first time I heard Devin Davis’s Lonely People of the World Unite (thanks for the recc, Robert!) — from the opening crash of power-pop chords on Iron Woman all the way through to the warbly, plaintive oooos over acoustic strumming on Deserted Eyeland — I fell in love. Like, awkward adolescent fawning fangirl love. The record goes by at a blinding pace, with every song a tight, layered and complex composition with breathless energy and vivid, playful and earnest (no air quotes) lyrics. (Speaking of lyrics, Robert first “heard” Devin Davis at his wedding when his best man read a passage from Turtle and the Flightless Bird. I’ll pause here for an awwwwww.)

Lore has it that Devin took two years to craft this beast during off hours at the recording studio where he worked. He played most of the instruments himself and, I imagine, obsessively added bits and bobs to each song (including multiple years worth of live fourth of July fireworks recordings) until finally collapsing in an exhausted heap and crying out, “Uncle!” I made up that last part, but I hope there was at least a dramatic mic drop and door slam when he put this perfect album to bed.

My “Best Awesomest Perfect Pop Songs Ever” playlist starts with Devin’s Giant Spiders, segues into Shangri-La, by the Kinks, Back in the Saddle by Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin, the Velvet Crush’s One Thing Two Believe, endless repeat.

Devin Davis "Giant Spiders"

A Good Drink

Robert: It’s so hard to pick a favorite anything, because there’s so much good stuff out there. So with all my choices I’m just going with whatever is grabbing me lately. I moved to Atlanta about six months ago and my wife and I have really enjoyed being close to the Atlanta Beltline, which is one of those pedestrian-only this-is-where-some-railroad-tracks-used-to-be pathway/park thing that goes right through the middle of town. There are plenty of restaurants that are right on the Beltline and are great spots for a relaxing happy hour. Our favorite is a place called Ladybird.

It looks like it was designed as an adult’s memory of what summer camp was like. In other words, it’s like the restaurant version of the movie Moonrise Kingdom, which is right up our alley. So we go there and have this drink called the Days Gone By. (The menu says it’s made from Pimm’s No.1, Fords Gin and Second Self Thai Wheat Beer. ‘Gin’ and ‘beer’ are the only ingredients I recognize.) It’s the perfect fall (which in Atlanta is just late summer) drink to sip while doing some quality people/dog watching.

Dayana: Robert can have his fancy-pants frou-frou Pimm’s Wheat Self-Actualized Thai Gin Fa La La drink with fresh Unicorn Tear sprinkles. Me? Just slide any old domestic lite beer my way and I’m a happy camper. Nope… doesn’t matter what brand. Lukewarm? No problem. Twist top? Even better. If I need to class it up a bit I’ll order a cider (again, I’m no brand snob . . . unless the bartender mentions the word “pear,” in which case, “Hells yeah!”), or a Hefeweizen (because I can pronounce it and it doesn’t look weird if I toss in a slice of citrus to cut the beer flavor).

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The Ghosts of Johnson City, Am I Born to Die?

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johnsoncity2

Last week I brought you music from Australia. This week I’m jumping back across the ocean (to Portland, Maine, with echoes of Tennessee), and backwards in time (to the music of America’s early years) with Am I Born to Die, the debut effort from The Ghosts of Johnson City, turned loose upon the world today. While the songs are traditional favorites, the interpretations are fresh. I’m especially fond of the continuous slow burn of the harmonium in the background – it adds a layer of melancholy, haunted flavor, and to my ear, a hint of the sea.

I have a few quibbles, but they are minor, and more a matter of personal aesthetic, specifically that I happen to prefer the Felice Brother’s loose, ragged Jack of Diamonds to this particular iteration of Rye Whiskey – they are, in the way of many early folk songs, almost but not quite the same song – and having heard The Lemonheads rock n’ roll crash-and-burn version of Knoxville Girl, folkier versions seem toothless, no matter how they are rendered.

I’m sharing the whole thing because a) I can! and b) that is how I’ve been listening to it – putting it on and letting it run, sinking into it like the aural equivalent of a bubble bath.

One final note for the prospective listener: Jack Monroe is the song also known as The Jam at Gerry’s Rock, not the one about the crossdressing sailor, of the same name.

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Three Songs from: Sea Legs

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HEY Y’ALL.

I’m more or less settled in Mississippi now (translation: I’ve unpacked half my books) and I’m coming to you today with music from Australia because of the MAGIC of TECHNOLOGY. I love the internet sometimes, I really do.

Specifically, I am bringing you three songs from Sea Legs, who are from Bateau Bay, Australia (Central Coast, north of Sydney) which I like because they are either uncomplicated fun, making interesting use of shimmer and fuzz, or both.

Why Don’t We Go Out Tonight, from their upcoming EP Daddy’s Girl, is exactly what it says on the tin: an invitation to conjugate the verb “to party,” and is the kind of thing suited for driving up coast roads with the top down while wearing obnoxious sunglasses and/or dancing around your room while refining your Party Look. The guitars are satisfyingly propulsive and crunchy, as well, which I always enjoy. A++ would add to a roadtrip playlist.

Christopher Strong, is not as lightweight as Why Don’t We Go Out Tonight, but I’m still very fond of it. Based on a TRUE STORY, i.e. Sea Legs’ frontman Byron Knight’s chance encounter with Katherine Hepburn while traveling in America in 1998, the lyrics are bittersweet – Hepburn was clearly feeling the sting of her declining years – but the tune is very neatly constructed.

Take A Little For Yourself is more mellow than the other two, and is ALSO a true story, though one about a fatally jealous love affair, not a Hollywood star. Things I liked: interplay of tones, fuzz, and shimmery reverb and how it’s a little slower than the other two but still has good energy and pacing.

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A Good Read A Good Listen and a Good Drink: Angéline

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

Here is what I like about Angéline’s latest EP, Back to Pike Place: the percussion is subtle, spare, and compelling, but not overwhelming. Furthermore, her tunes reflect her travels: the rhythms are drawn, in part, from time spent in Cuba; the streetnoises of Havana and London are both incorporated into the larger soundscape; and one song is in her native French. As soon as I heard it, I wanted to know more about her.

For example, consider the steady insistent pulse of Black Butterflies:

And with that I will turn the floor over to her, to share a favorite book, record and drink:

Angéline, dancing.

Angéline, dancing.

A Good Read

With no doubt I chose the book I am currently reading: Conversations with Picasso by Brassaï. A few years ago I discovered the world of Art, I became obsessed with painters. I go through phases when I read, watch every documentary there is about a chosen artist; I give myself missions to analyze and understand the artist and the context in which he made his masterpieces. Brassaï reports conversations he had with Picasso in Paris during the war, enabling the reader to understand his complex personality. Brassaï invites the reader to listen to Picasso and his fellow surrealists debating on Life and Art, and I, after every chapter, feel the need to write about it, too frustrated that I don’t get to express my opinion and be in the room with them all!

A Good Listen

The 1st album that came to my mind is Catching a Tiger by Lissie (2010). Again, I get very obsessive with albums I buy and I will play them on repeat until I know every single word of every song. I had only heard one song of this album before buying it but it straight away became one of my favourite. I love Lissie’s broken voice, she sings with her heart and her imperfections make her sound so beautiful, so true. At the time, the pictures of the booklet, the space in the music and the country-folk influences woke up the dream I had to travel the world. Later on, it’s Record Collector I listened to when I went to the Grand Canyon.

Lissie - Record Collector (Live on 89.3 The Current)

A Good Drink

Now that’s a tricky one. I was going to pick Rum, as it just reminds me of my trip to Cuba and those sleepless nights dancing under the Havana sky! But actually, i could never live without coffee!!! I cannot resist the delicious smell, reminding me of those Sunday mornings at home with my family. Since in London I’ve become a coffee addict, my favourite being a single-origin Ethiopian flat white from Department of Coffee and Social Affairs.

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The Boxcar Boys: Cicada Ball

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cicadaball

Reasons I am super fond of Cicada Ball, by The Boxcar Boys:

1) Awesome cover art! They even have the creepy silvery wings. It only be better if some of them had red eyes.

2) Awesome tunes! The Boxcar Boys specialize in Dixieland jazz-folk fusion, featuring horns, mandolins, accordions, and the occasional burst of klezmer. Unlike actual cicadas, they’re good company on a lazy late-summer afternoon.

Some examples:

Shaking off the Cobwebs is a peppy little instrumental number:

Old Tracks, one of the few non-instrumental tracks, features sweet beautiful vocals by Kelsey McNulty:

And finally The Busker, which is both the longest and the most spare and delicate song on the record:

To listen to the rest, check them out at Bandcamp.

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A Good Read A Good Listen and a Good Drink, Damien Brennan

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

Damien Brennan is a young singer/songwriter who grew up in County Down, Northern Ireland and later refined his craft busking and backpacking his way across Italy and Austria.

Below are three of his songs, all of which serve to demonstrate his big voice and big sweeping sound, and particular talent for setting a dramatic romantic mood. All three are strong tunes, but my favorites are Shine and Man on Fire, for the way the swell, crest and soar. Fair warning, Shine will probably get stuck in your head like it did in mine, and you’ll just have to listen to it several times to dislodge it again.

Email newsletters for bands at ReverbNation.com

And with that, I turn the floor over to Mr. Brennan, who joins us today to tell us about a favorite book, record and drink.

A Good Read
A book that stands out for me is Dog Man by Martha Sherrill. It’s about a Japanese man, Morie Sawataishi, who risked imprisonment to go live in the snowy mountains of Northern Japan during the second world war in order to save the beautiful and ancient Akita breed from extinction, as all of these dogs were to be handed over to the military in order to make coats from their pelts. It’s about the search for enduring values and the determination to live life on one’s own terms. I love dogs and have two Akitas of my own, so maybe that’s got something to do with it.

A Good Listen
It wasn’t easy picking a favorite album as there are so many from multiple genres that I love, but it has to be Joshua Tree [by] U2. It is one of the most iconic albums of all time, not such an original choice I admit… but there is a very good reason for it having lasted the test of time and that’s the sheer amount of great quality songs in just one album. The majority of ‘iconic’ albums have one or two stand-out-alone songs, but almost all the tracks from Joshua Tree are special for me. I remember as a boy listening to With or Without You, I Still Haven’t Found What I’m looking For, [and] Where the Streets Have No Name, and they really left an impression on me. I’ll always find time to listen to this album once in a while.

[Ed note: Full disclosure: I totally had a Joshua Tree-era U2 poster on my wall, so I picked the original video, and OMG look at them, so young and skinny!]

https://youtu.be/XmSdTa9kaiQ

A Good Drink
I’m Irish, so not to be stereotypical or anything but it has to be alcoholic! Morgan Spice with coke and ice on a Friday night watching a movie is as good as it gets. Yup, love the Captain Morgans.

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Chill Out, Drown Out: Resplendent, In Vivid

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Chill Out Drown Out: music for when you need to, well, chill out, and also drown out extraneous noise. Tunes for calming down and concentrating on important tasks or just having a peaceful time in the middle of a hurricane of a day/week/month/year/existence.

I occasionally feel bad when my highest recommendation for something is “this is excellent background noise,” but – it is truly one of the finest accolades I can give. It means the music has successfully walked the fine line between “delicate, beautiful, but unobtrusive, integrates well into the process of multi-tasking” and “so boring I forgot the first song half-way through.”

Resplendent, by In Vivid (Ben Snook, of Lawrence, KS) is indeed delicate and beautiful. The swirling textures and gently propulsive energy make it – for me, at least – ideal for tasks that require concentration and creativity. And, best of all, it stands up to repetition; I listened to it three times in a row one night last week and never got sick of it.

Here are three songs to whet your appetite, chosen at least in part because I liked the titles.

Lightswitch Indicator: The second song on the record, this one is for when your brain is still spinning up. The mix of high and low tones supported by a steady warm background thrum is perfect for when it is way too early but the work must get done.

Some Imagine Caretaker: This one has a steady thud-thud at its heart, surrounded by oscillating bands of other tones. It feels a bit like having a friendly metronome around to prod you out of the sloughs of distraction.

Three Person Pillow: There are vocals, on this one, but they mostly sound like aliens making vaguely familiar encouraging noises. Aliens who have brought their very own extra large pillow for all of you to sit on together while you complete your tasks and they watch with great interest, because they have never seen PowerPoint before and are fascinated.

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Canadian Music Week: Two Songs From: Brock Zeman

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Photo by Jamie Kronick

Photo by Jamie Kronick

Brock Zeman, singer/songwriter, is from Ottawa, Ontario, and plays indie rock with country-folk undertones. He recently released his 11th record (!), Pulling Your Sword Out of the Devil’s Back.

The title track is more spoken word poetry with music involved than a song. It’s meta-commentary on the art and science and struggle of songwriting and broken hearts and stories that don’t belong to you don’t belong to you and that won’t go away. You won’t be able to sing along, he says, as he rolls to a crescendo, which is true. Still, if I had a car and oceans of prairie to get across, I think I would start my driving playlist with it, just for the satisfying rhythms and final, thundering stop.

Little Details, on the other hand, is, for lack of a better term, a rollicking break-up song, and you definitely can sing along:

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Canadian Music Week: A Good Read A Good Listen and a Good Drink, Mary Caroline

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It’s a simple yet sublime pleasure, and just thinking about it can make you feel a little calmer, a little more content. Imagine: You bring out one of the good rocks glasses (or your favorite mug or a special occasion tea cup) and pour a couple fingers of amber liquid (or something dark and strong or just some whole milk). You drop the needle on the jazz platter (or pull up a blues album on your mp3 player or dig out that mixtape from college). Ensconcing yourself in the coziest seat in the house, you crack the spine on a classic (or find your place in that sci-fi paperback or pull up a biography on your e-book reader). And then, you go away for a while. Ah, bliss.

In this series, some of NTSIB’s friends share beloved albums, books and drinks to recommend or inspire.

For our second Very Special Presentation of A Good Read . . ., we’re jumping all the way up north to Yellowknife, NorthWest Territories, where singer/songwriter Mary Caroline divides her time between television and making indie-folk music.

As an introduction, here are some songs from her debut studio album, Life on Earth:

Songs of Winter is really about the end of winter, and romance blooming again in the spring:

Full Moon is surprisingly mellow, for a song about flying over thin ice and outrunning wolves:

And finally, the one that is probably my favorite, This Is Home, because it encapsulates the feeling of walking in the door and being able to exhale, and the subtle joy of sleeping in your own bed after a long time on the road.

And with that, I turn the floor over to Mary Caroline, who joins us today to share her favorite book, record, and drink.

Mary Caroline

Mary Caroline

A Good Read:

My favorite book is an easy one. It’s The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho. I read the Alchemist about once a year, and am always left inspired by it. Having just been on the road from January- March, and having very little money while on tour, and at times feeling deflated about my decision to pursue music full time, I would often think of the Sheppard in The Alchemist, and remind myself that following a dream isn’t easy, and isn’t always achieved in the way you expected it to be. Sometimes the harder you work at a goal the further you seem to be getting from it, and then all of the sudden you find yourself in an amazing situation that you always dreamed of.

A Good Listen:

I’m a big fan of Florence and the Machine‘s album, Lungs. I just love Florence Welch’s song writing. Its gritty and beautiful and strong. I’m a pretty solitary song writer, but I sometimes fantasize about polishing off a bottle of scotch with Florence Welch and writing songs together.

Florence +The Machine - Drumming Song

A Good Drink:

My recommended drink was introduced to me this past winter by my American friend, Ariel Benarroch. We work together on a TV show that is filmed in Yellowknife, and on our days off the whole crew would play hockey on an outdoor rink on Great Slave Lake. Each game, Ariel would bring out a thermos of hot buttered rum! Playing hockey in the sub-arctic is quite an experience. The guys would have frost encrusted beards and we would bring out the set lights so we could see the puck past 4pm, but it was really the hot buttered rum between periods that turned the weekly event into a utopic winter scene.

[Ed note: Great Slave Lake’s name has First Nations origins, and is derived from the name given to the local Dene by the Cree, who were their enemies.]