Jimmy & The Revolvers are from Liverpool, England, and they play rock n’ roll.
The two songs below are their most recent releases.
On the first one, Morning Paper, they manage to make the phrase I read the morning paper into, variously, a roar of defiance, a howl of pain, and a harbinger of impending doom. Also there are some killer horns. Drink & The Devil Blues, is, in stark contrast, a pub singalong so vivid I can almost taste the snakebite and black.
They are both quite good. I’m posting them in a block as that is how I listened to them, several times, on repeat.
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.
We/Or/Me (Bahhaj Taherzadeh) occupies a unique place in the musical world: he’s a Persian/Irish singer-songwriter. He grew up in Dublin and now lives in Chicago; he got his start when, after years of writing songs on the sly and sharing them with only a limited circle of friends, Glen Hansard called him to the … Continue reading
tinörks, of Osaka, Japan, is a folktronica band. I was intrigued by this mainly because I wondered how “folktronica” manifested, exactly. In this instance, at least, it’s a ambient experimental noise with a soothing, gentle texture. It’s what I imagine a Zen garden would sound like, if a Zen garden had hands and could use a keyboard.
Here are three songs from ODOMYUNICA, which is, as best I can tell, their sixth and most recent record. You can hear the rest, and explore their back catalog, on bandcamp.
Komorebi [after a rain]: After a spring rain, I think, when everything looks bright and clean, as opposed to an autumn rain, when the world has a bruised cast to it. This is for a cheerful, hopeful nourishing shower, not a downpour.
Ljus och snö [candles and snow]: At least part of this record was inspired by the Northern Lights; this song does sound like the warm glow of candles in the window during a winter snowfall … Continue reading
I am not normally one for yacht rock, but somehow, Los Porcos have won me over. I suspect it may be that the idea of pig-themed yacht rock is so deliciously absurd that I just can’t resist.
So you can see the awesome album art and hear one of their tunes, here’s Porc Noise Complaint, from Porco Mio, their new EP:
Long may you glide, my porcine friends; may yours breezes always be soft and warm, and your champagne never grow warm.
Below are two remixes from Taxes: Lost at Sea, which is about clinging to love in the face of disaster, and Your Other Left, which is about a commingling of nostalgia and rage into a curdled stew of bitterness. I listened to the originals, and Lost At Sea has been expanded and given some quasi-orchestral layers, while Your Other Left has been completely reconfigured in tone and tempo, to align with that of Lost At Sea.
They are both very good, and you should listen to them:
Lungs and Limbs are from San Francisco, CA. Lifelike is their first EP.
I’ve been listening to it on and off for a few days now. I keep drifting back to it as a palate cleanser. It’s pop music, light enough to encourage repeat listening, but there’s some thudding drums and reverb in there to add some weight and texture.
This is So Sweet, the first song, and, as it happens, the one that hooked me:
I’m also fond of Kaleidoscope, because I’m intrigued by the way they use light as a metaphor in the lyrics, and strategically deploy bright shining synth tones throughout the song:
Ok kids. We’re switching gears. Putting the ethereal experimental noise back on the shelf and taking down the obnoxious noisy punk rock with a little bit of folky swing winding through it.
Killing Kuddles are from Atlanta, and today we’re going to listen to Sinking Ship and Dirty Mouth from Sinking Ship, from an EP they put out this summer.
Sinking Ship is also the first song, and when the guitars kicked in I just kind of smiled and nodded, because awww, yeah. Put this on your roadtrip playlist when you blow out of town in search of a fresh start.
Dirty Mouth has a little bit of rockabilly flavor – but is played at breakneck punk speed. Mostly about cursing and staying up late and trying to not let your mom know you get up to those kinds of shenanigans.
Shortly after 9/11, a friend of mine heard a drag queen perform Cathedrals by Jump, Little Children at an open mic night in New York. Her retelling of the scene was so vivid that ever since then, I have associated the song with the aftermath of that day, as well as the message I saw scrawled on a dusty car in Lower Manhattan: You can knock us down, but you can’t knock us out.
Our hearts and thoughts are with you, Paris, and Beirut, and all the places where terrible people have done such awful things.
Jump Little Children – Cathedrals
Watch this video on YouTube