Pitchfork Reviews 5/16/08

Mates of State
Re-Arrange Us
[Barsuk; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it a 5.1.

Sometimes I feel like these Pitchfork reviews should just trail off in the middle. Right now I'm thinking about bills I have to pay, sort of wondering what the schedule of my cash flow is going to be so I can know when to do what. Oh yeah, reminder: deposit that check. That'll help.

Mates of State sucks, and always has. It's like being stuck watching "Garden State" on a continuous loop.


Nat Baldwin
Most Valuable Player
[Broken Sparrow; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it a 7.9.

What would you say to a guy whose gimmick is this? He's like the exact bassist equivalent of Dave Longstreth. If these two ever got together they could form the most annoying band of all time.

Oh wait.


Les Rallizes Denudes
Eve Night
[Ignuitas; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it an 8.0.

So this is a 1983 live recording of an obscure Japanese psyche-noise band that was active from 1967 through whenever. It's the kind of a thing that chronic rock geeks can't wait to stutter a bunch of hyperbolic platitudes about. I wonder why. What cortex of the human brain contains that rarefied impulse of "I am bragging about knowing about this band, proselytizing as if it's a religion?" You hang out long enough in record shops, you'll hear it. It's at the same time so specific and so widespread, it can only come from a brain disorder. That's the only explanation. As far as I can tell, it's activated by some combination of autism, psychedelic drug abuse, and dandruff.

And if you have the means to hear what's being spoken about in such reverent tones, you'll usually find that it sounds something like what this sounds like: murkily-recorded bootlegs of a band which includes passionate-sounding but unintelligible grunting and searing, come-from-nowhere guitars. It's exactly the kind of thing that always sounds great in the shop but then it sounds shitty when you get it home.

Why? Because those guys in the shop have at least one thing going for them that you don't and probably never will: access. They can play any of thousands of things according to their whim, and through a combination of knowledge and options they're more likely than you are to hit the context bullseye dead-on. Go home, and neither you nor your record collection measures up. Any given mood you're in only has two or three cures, and none of those moods includes "stuck here in this place full of records" because regardless of the size of your record collection or the depths of your neurosis, you are probably the type of person for whom being at home is pretty voluntary and you can leave whenever you want. And also you have a girlfriend and responsibilities and stuff.

And this is perhaps the big clue about the types of dudes who are always into this kind of a thing. They don't leave their houses unless they feel like they absolutely have to, like if it's on fire that's a maybe. This is "stuck here" music, made especially for teapots, cat hoarding, and self-published crackpot academia texts. It excels in such a context. I'm currently listening to it while I'm stuck at work, and it's a tremendous comfort. Given options, I'd probably forget about it in a heartbeat and move on to the next thing, which is probably what anybody who purports to love this would do too.

To be fair, this specific incidence is fantastic in its own way. All practitioners of the "rock basketcase hero" genre are fantastic in their own way, otherwise there wouldn't be an eczema-riddled secret society of underground (literally, they all live in garden apartments) wingnuts to claim such things as their mother's milk. Personally, I can't imagine myself hankering for it later without first spiking my serotonin levels in the "aren't I great for knowing about this" lobe (admit it: we all have one). But it has its standalone merits. The come-from-nowhere guitar totally shreds. The unintelligible grunts are reverb-drenched and punctual. The rhythm section is... rhythmic. It's a total seafloor freakout, a perfect soundtrack for solitary basement hobbyist activities.

There is a lot of other stuff like this, but the appeal here is, I guess, that none of those other things is this. At any given point when you put it on, you probably have a decent chance to be the only person in the whole world currently listening to Les Rallizes Denudes' Eve Night. The concept of which is a real treat for the currently under discussion variety of twisted misanthrope who only ever emerges from his--always a dude--hovel to converse, cavort, and convert with other guys with flaky hand skin and a penchant for obscure electric skronking.

I love this kind of a guy, by the way. They're always so interesting. Not the things they say, that's actually deadly boring most of the time. Just the fact that such people exist is interesting. And they're impressive in their own way too, the way it always is when people's impulses overcome their ability to worry about how they'll be perceived. Maybe this one is more specifically impressive to me. The desire to be cut off from everyone and be left alone to wallow in psychedelic Japanese noise music may not be exactly universal, but it sure chimes a gong or two in my psyche. There but for either the Grace of God or else just being chickenshit (or not having the money, that's another thing--where do they get the money? Or the motivation?) go I.


These Are Powers
Taro Tarot EP
[Hoss; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it a 6.8.

The guys (total Les Rallizes Denudes-worshipping type dudes) at my local record shop are into These Are Powers. It's easy to just not pay any attention to them because they want my money. They want all of it. And they make a convincing case for it nine times out of ten. Unfortunately, all they give me in return for the considerable (to me) amount of money I spend there is a handful of records that not many people (often including me) want. And yet I fork it over. Time and time again. I don't know why that is. Probably I'm just a sucker and they have my number.

Do I like These Are Powers? Sure. Sure I do. But I don't ever need to spend money on a These Are Powers release. Do you hear me, me? I DON'T EVER NEED TO SPEND MONEY ON A THESE ARE POWERS RELEASE. I CAN INSTEAD JUST WATCH THIS VIDEO IF I EVER FEEL THE NEED. IT'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE.

REMINDER TO SELF. REMINDER TO SELF. BROOKLYN ALERT BROOKLYN ALERT. THIS IS CURRENTLY (AS OF 2 YEARS AGO) IN FASHION. DON'T LET IT FOOL ME. I CAN BE GLAD SOMEBODY IS DOING IT WITHOUT BUYING IN. IT'S NOT THAT GOOD. AVOID! AVOID!


Hymns
Travel in Herds
[High Wire; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it a 5.0.

Remember Louis XIV?

These guys do.