Better Than Radiohead?

Spoon – Transference (released Jan. 18th)

Grade: B-/B

For Fans of: Guster, The Shins, Liam Finn

I’m pretty surre I’ve heard the argument made that every album, first through eleventy-billionth, is a band’s most important effort. Essentially, if you put out a horrible album, it can kill your career. When you get to sixth, the pool for comparison thins, and (under certain circumstances) it becomes a success in and of itself. This is where we are with Spoon and their newest, Transference.

Now, as I thought of other bands with six or more albums, my mind was of course drawn to Radiohead and analogies ran wild (hence the title). In a very rough way, Spoon is in the same place Radiohead was in with the release of Hail to the Thief (bear with me). The major difference being, Spoon’s last two albums have been their most accessible, while Radiohead’s 4th and 5th efforts were almost intentionally alienating. Spoon has picked up a lot of steam since “Gimme Fiction,” including multiple songs being featured on NBC’s “Chuck.”  Accordingly, the boys were faced with a crossroad. A larger audience means more expectations.  A good band shakes them with style.  Radiohead (again same place, different circumstances) let loose and made the least accessible of their records with Hail to the Thief. Spoon, on the other hand, has taken a much more gradual step. (And no, I don’t think Spoon is better than Radiohead. Pshhh.)

On first listen, I was a little disappointed.  I kept waiting for the radio-esque single and killer hook along the lines of “Don’t You Evah” or “I Summon You,” but it never really came. I was guilty of wanting another Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, but I got something different, a little more cohesive and a little darker.  And while I think there is a stronger glue holding Transference together than previous albums, the same cohesion has made it less memorable. By no means is Transference a flop.  It has its own staying power, but it isn’t a catchy staying power.

Spoon’s bread and butter lies in not trying too hard, and they haven’t fled camp.  The Spoon of old is recognizable, just with a few new tricks. They’ve been evolving over time, think “The Ghost of You Lingers,” and in due course Transference contains just a few more “Ghost”-like tracks. There is some synth-percussion on “Who Makes Your Money,” strange vocal delays on “Is Love Forever?,” and mid-song “I Saw the Light” completely changes directions, but for the most part it works.

Considering where Spoon is in their career, Transference makes sense. If they don’t start broadening out, all of their quirks will become predictably unpredictable. The same thing that has made Spoon so likable (simple, low-fi pop), is also their handcuff.  There is only so much you can do with a buzzy guitar, drum, and an old upright piano. I see Transference as being a sort of stepping stone.  A stepping stone with substance.  Not my favorite album of the young year, but one I’m glad to have in my library.

You can also check out a listen of the new album at NPR.

Songs of Winter

The best time for contemplation is on late winter nights, a friend said to me. Sometimes he holes up in his bedroom and while the world sleeps, he thinks.

The cold harnesses the mind and hones the senses. We see divisions more clearly: the geometry of a bedside table, the sharp difference of darkness and light, the separation of communal identity and the lone self. In winter, the watercolor smear of summer is gone and the world has suddenly come into focus.

Winter keeps us indoors for long spans, which is hell for restless people. But more time affords longer commitments, like that of listening to a record in its entirety. Here are some frosty nuggets.

Music Has the Right to Children – Boards of Canada

Music Has the Right to Children is a future-music dream city submerged in murky water and subliminal messages. Melodies dissolve just as they reach boiling point. Many sounds are so subtle they hardly exist, so strap on some headphones. Hazy jams like “Aquarius” and “Turquoise Hexagon Sun” loom high, stretching a hip-hop beat and warping it forever past time. If Kubrick made beats…

Kind of Blue – Miles Davis

“All Blues” is the winter song on the jazz record. These alien chord changes don’t ever touch ground, despite heaps of praise. A tense theme for driving home from work at the end of dusk, the song has no peers. Kind of Blue is so unassuming but it demands your attention. This kind of record is extinct; it’s for people that have to wait for things.

Kid A – Radiohead

I remember first listening to all of Kid A in the early morning, on a stretch of highway in Colorado. We passed cranes and incomplete shopping malls, all of it dusted with snow, to the chug of “The National Anthem.” The car coasted around a mountain pass during “In Limbo,” a drugged funhouse mirror. It’s an album, man, and each song is a stream into one frigid reservoir.

Knives Don’t Have Your Back – Emily Haines & the Soft Skeleton

Haines sets out on a desolate adventure from Metric, the electric-rock group, with nothing but a husky contralto and jazz in the liner notes. “The first three songs all begin with the same note,” a friend pointed out, and he’s right; this is a mood record. The music of a late winter night should be concentrated, sparse and factual. Haines’ path is sad and beautiful.

Others:

• The Velvet Underground – The Velvet Underground
• 23 – Blonde Redhead
• The Moon and Antarctica – Modest Mouse
• Sanguine – Julianna Barwick
• Turn On the Bright Lights – Interpol
• Songs of Leonard Cohen – Leonard Cohen
• Demon Dayz – Gorillaz

Autumn’s Shuffle

“Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.” – Robert Browning

There’s nothing like the majestic melancholy of autumn. The cooling winds, wood smoke and mosaic of sunburned colors make for a truly magical few weeks, tainted only by a quiet apprehension of winter.

Maybe it’s the slow fade of fall that makes me nostalgic, but every October, I’m reminded of the autumns from years past, and specifically, what I was listening to in those times. Here’s a hint: the timbre of an acoustic guitar is sweet honey when enjoyed with falling leaves.

Nick Drake

You may have heard him in a car commercial or buried under the clatter of a Starbucks or on the immensely popular soundtrack for “Garden State.” The songs of Nick Drake, an influential folk musician from the early 70s, are commonly pegged as “autumnal,” and with good reason. Ornate finger picking and alien chord changes build songs that are purposefully sparse, ideal for contemplation. The perfect soundtrack to Sunday afternoon drives.

Nick Drake – From The Morning

Radiohead’s In Rainbows

Radiohead certainly are an intentional group of fellows, and I would venture that the October release of In Rainbows was no accident. The tender electric guitars, rim clicks and the most lush string arrangements this side of Billie Holiday’s Lady in Satin, are proof. Better still, In Rainbows sees the band getting their R&B on when Yorke does Al Green on “House of Cards.” Best enjoyed with a lover.

Radiohead – Nude

Radiohead – Faust Arp

The Roots’ Game Theory

The music of autumn should feel detached and lonely, but still pine for company. Game Theory embodies this by behaving like a belligerent child, furious one moment (“In the Music” openly scoffs at police) and welcoming the next (“Long Time”). Roots songs embody a variety of characters, from a caustic girlfriend to a redeemed prince of the ghetto. The common denominator(s)? Realism, soul singers and FUNK-Y guitars.

The Roots – Baby

Dave Brubeck Quartet’s Time Out

Brubeck will never get the respect of jazz greats like Miles Davis or John Coltrane because, unlike those artists, he’s always been content to coast for miles on one aesthetic. Where Davis and Coltrane continued to reinvent themselves late into their careers, Brubeck is still playing “Take Five” at all his shows. He must know it’s a shtick, but he also must know that it’s a good one. The gimmick of Time Out is strangely endearing; it’s a quaint jazz record with an outsider mentality.

Dave Brubeck Quartet – Blue Rondo A La Turk

New Radiohead Song

Ok so this isn’t really a new Radiohead track. But anyone who would be excited to hear a new song from Radiohead will most likely be just as equally pleased to hear my song of the day.  I heard this song a couple weeks ago while sampling through the many SXSW artists.  Vijay Kishore is his name.  He’s a British singer/songwriter with a Yorkesque swoon in his voice.  But Radiohead similarities or no, it is a pretty stellar track.

Vijay Kishore – Never Ends