Pitchfork Reviews 4/14/08

Microkingdom's Pro Hour
Wrenches: My Heart/Double Abacus
[Self-Released; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it a 7.9.

Self-released skronkrock freejazz LP limited to 300 on aquamarine vinyl. Two years later, the website says "50 remaining." Which I find funny. There are not 300 people in the world who like this.

I don't know enough about music to speak confidently about free jazz. I feel vaguely like that's the whole point of it. And maybe I'm not doing the right drugs, but it sure seems like the emperor is naked. There's "capital-A Art that nobody understands now because it's so far ahead of its time" and then there's "purposefully annoying so as to imitate capital-A Art that nobody understands now because it's so far ahead of its time." And then time passes and there's still 50 remaining.

But: for the record, I am in favor of "purposefully annoying" in that it offers rigorous opposition against "ambiguously bland." Why bother getting angry at a group of Baltimore noise skronkers who self released a limited-run LP? You can listen to the "songs" for free on their website, they're not trying to hustle anybody. Or for that matter, why bother getting angry at Pitchfork for giving them the serious treatment in order to borrow some cred? (Which, if true, feels like a total dartboard throw in this case--Baltimore? Noise? Jazz? Is that what's hip?) Annoyed, maybe, but not angry. We've all got day jobs. The fact is, this is purposefully annoying, which is a step in the right direction away from appeasement, good job, and: it's not as important to consume as it is to make. Which I think might also be the whole point of free jazz. Self indulgent? Sure. Annoying? Very often. Necessary? Not really. Better in both conception and execution than the Jonas Brothers? Absolutely.

And I don't know. Sometimes free jazz is decent enough live: it's always cheap if not free and a good time if you've got the right mix of booze, company whose parents always tried to convince them they were little genius babies, and adolescent conversation about disgusting anatomical phenomena. But that's a pretty small needle to thread. Best leave it to the professionals, most times.


Cut Copy
In Ghost Colours
[Interscope / Modular; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it an 8.8 and listed it as the 4th best album of 2008.

I can't tell; I just can't. I could dash out a self-righteous screed about the evils of the at-first-ironic-then-not-ironic technofication of "indie" pop, but I don't know what the point of such a statement would be. All I have is my gut, and my gut feels a near total revulsion to this. I can picture the purse-lipped face my girlfriend is making as she turns up the volume on some Cut Copy while driving. It's bothering me. Maybe that's unfair to her. She loves LCD Soundsystem though. LCD Soundsystem is, as far as I can tell, better than this. So is MGMT. Not that those two make me entirely comfortable, just less uncomfortable. Maybe I just don't like fun, and the revulsion is all my fault. As I said, I can't tell.

Put me in a room with a bunch of people who are really enjoying this, and I'd probably loosen up and have a good time. But you'd have a hell of a hard time getting me into that room without using some pretty forceful persuasion.

Here are things I feel strongly are qualities of great dance music:

1. Should communicate the URGENCY of having fun.

2. Should somehow remind you of the connection between dancing and fucking.

And just like you wouldn't ironically fuck somebody, there should be some degree of seriousness and surrender to the fact that you're having fun. The music has to meet you half way. It can't stay aloof and cool. It can't be standing there making fun of you for dancing to it or for not having your fashion down enough to have earned a shot at enjoyment. It's got to make a fool of itself a little and not care. Maybe it can make a COMPLETE fool of itself, like "Surfin' Bird" or "Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell." And then you, in the right mood, can surrender to it and completely make a fool of yourself. Which to some degree is what dancing and/or fucking is (because even great-looking people look kind of silly when they're naked). It's all about allowing yourself to be vulnerable and not caring and having a blast anyway. To me. Maybe this is my own hangups speaking, but I don't think I'm too far off base. If dancing/fucking was less embarrassing, we'd all just do it all the time. Either way: the music helps a lot.

Cut Copy, as far as I can tell, do not communicate urgency (have fun or don't--we don't care, we're just kind of doing this as a goof anyway) or remind me of fucking (have fun or don't--we don't care, we're just kind of doing this as a goof anyway) with any degree of consistency. If they did, it would be to remind me of fucking a bored fashionista who thinks she's out of my league. In order to do it and have a lot of fun I would first have to put the right outfit together, find out about the correct art-loft party, get on the exact right booze plateau to be able to enjoy myself while all of this is happening, and affect the just-right alluring outsider persona in order to seal the deal. Feels like too much work. Dancing and having fun (and fucking) should not be work. Work is work. Fun is fun. Fun is easy.

You know what's easy? Blasting out some "Rock With You" and having fun and dancing with everybody you already know and like. Which I realize is somewhat of a cop-out: that song is over 30 years old, and an impossible standard to hold all future dance music to. But cop-outs are by nature easy, and dancing and having fun (and fucking) should be an easygoing, carefree affair. You don't have to reinvent the wheel or strike the right pose or say the right things. You're doing something mindless, wonderful, unoriginal, and immediate. You don't have time for all that "right" stuff.

Right? Am I right about this? Or am I just hopelessly clinging to manufactured ideals because I'm afraid I'm at the wrong party and it's making me insecure? I think probably both, right? Whatever. It's just a buncha fucking Aussie techno, no need to worry about it too much. Time is on my side anyway. It's 2010. Where's Cut Copy?

As for all the stuff about fucking, I feel naked for even having mentioned it, but luckily I don't mind being naked. You hear that, Cut Copy? I DON'T MIND BEING NAKED AND I DON'T CARE WHAT I LOOK LIKE. And I'd rather listen to "Hey Ya" on repeat for an hour than listen to a single moment of your whole stinkin' album! There: I said it, and I feel better.

Bonus between-the-lines Pitchfork funny detail: putting the Microkingdom's Pro Hour review ahead of this one.


Frightened Rabbit
Midnight Organ Fight
[FatCat; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it an 8.1.

More earnest throaty yelping about feelings over forcefully strummed guitars, this time interspersed with Counting Crows ballad breaks.


The Selmanaires
The Air Salesmen
[International Hits; 2008]

Pitchfork gave it a 6.8 and compared these guys unfavorably (in a diplomatic, roundabout way that's both apologist and unfair) to their Atlanta scenemates Black Lips.

The reality is that you don't have to compare these guys to Black Lips if you want to find fault. They're all over the map with this one. I don't know why. If it's that they're looking for anything that sticks, that's a very old jive-technique in the tradition of Frank Zappa and Beck. Competent, confident genre-straddling and forceful inconsistency is usually a sign of a huckster making a calculated bet-hedge. Which lends a certain artpunk "fuck the suckers" cash-grab appeal to the artists/perpetrators if not the music. Or else, as is probably the case with these guys, it's just a kind of crappy band having fun and trying things. "Probably" with The Selmanaires because they never quite get there in any of the directions they explore. But that's ok. As Pitchfork almost snidely points out, they're not headlining anyway.


Groove Armada
Soundboy Rock
[Sony / Strictly Rhythm; 2007]

Pitchfork gave it a 5.8.

So here's just a regular techno album. I don't know if it's technically "techno" or "dubstep/grime/UK garage/drum and bass/jungle/house/trance/acid jazz/breakbeat." I can't hear those distinctions. I just hear "techno" and that's usually enough. Kind of like how "flyers/rockers/roots/rocksteady/lover's rock" just sounds like "reggae" to my unknowing ears.

I've got an open mind, though. I like, as I internally define it, "good techno" (not much of it exists), just as I like "good reggae" (a LOT exists, and I love it).

I wouldn't say this is especially good techno, but context means a lot with this stuff. Usually a combination of drug use, a dark, crowded room in a building with an uncomplicated floor plan, and generally high external fun levels at the corner of "I did not plan for this" and "who gives a shit" will reveal the true dividing line between "good techno" and "techno." Just sitting and listening won't do much for a guy like me. But: it's clear that this is not trying to be anything else other than techno. It at least has that going for it.

So it's less aggravating if not less annoying than Cut Copy.

I know I just talked about how unfair it is to compare The Selmanaires to Black Lips, but rules are meant to be broken. Immediately.