My Alphabetical iPod Diary (Day 8)
“Advice To The Graduate” by Silver Jews (from Starlite Walker)
There’s something not quite right about Starlite Walker, Silver Jews’ first full length, when compared to later Silver Jews albums. Part of it is because it sounds exactly like I imagined the Silver Jews to sound when I first caught wind of their existence about five years ago. In short, it sounds like Crooked Rain era Pavement with a different singer (Pavement’s Stephen Malkmus and Bob Nastanovich provide the bulk of Starlite Walker’s musical expertise). Singer David Berman’s porch side musings are mostly there, but the songs, for the most part, are too shambolic and tossed off – frivolous even. Berman is a killer poet (barring “Living Waters’” shitty chorus), but he is a considerably limited vocalist (the bum notes on “Rebel Jew” are cringe worthy), so he tends to need a strong cohesive song in order to lay a foundation for his prose. Unfortunately, early Pavement, as much as I love them, is not the kind of structure that one needs and a great deal of the songs on Starlite Walker indicate that. Not so, however, for “Advice To The Graduate,” Starlite’s leading track. If nothing else, Silver Jews are good at putting their best foot forward (with the exception Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea) and “Advice To The Graduate” stands out despite the fact that it sounds a lot like Pavement. Berman shows some of his potential for wry lyricism (“On the last day of your life / don’t forget to die”) while Malkmus takes the mic on the lovely, touching chorus. Starlite Walker, improves during its second half, but “Advice To The Graduate” is nearly enough to buoy the sloppy, uncertain first steps of the album’s front half.
“Advisory Committee” by Mirah (from Advisory Committee)
K Records’ Mirah is perhaps the most underrated artist of the decade. The Olympia, WA singer has been consistently releasing subtly stunning and re-listenable pieces of psych-folk for the better part of the decade. “Advisory Committee” is a shining example of her ability to transcend and amaze. Marrying buddy Phil Elvrum’s headphone-centric production with her sweet, but non-cloying voice, “Advisory Committee” sways tenderly, but totally explodes with distortion and chaos much in the same way that Elvrum’s Microphones did on their masterful The Glow Pt. 2. This one will hit your eardrums like a crash of waves on a windy Pacific Northwest day.
“Aerial Photography” by This Heat (from Live 80/81)
The Out Of Cold Storage box set certainly offers a generous dollop of prime This Heat material, including the group’s two proper albums and smattering of several other awesome and/or let’s just say “for completists only” material. “Aerial Photography,” from the grainy, “for completists only” Live 80/81 offers a glimpse of the band at it’s most obtusely abstract and, in all honesty, at its least enjoyable. The one gag of this song is how seamlessly it flows into…
“Aerials” by System Of A Down (from Toxicity)
“Aerials,” the third single from the SOAD’s 2001 smash hit, Toxicity, could comparatively be referred to as a ballad (heavy on the operatic flourishes, light on the thrash and Zappaesque detours), and within the album its lack of dynamics would put it sharply in the “filler” category. But while the song is less explosive, hilarious and, ultimately, awesome than the rest of the album, there’s a reason SOAD released this for mass consumption – it’s a hell of an introduction to a band that damn near legitimized mainstream metal in the early part of the decade. “Aerials” invites the uninitiated. It’s heavy (the de-tuned riff can be felt in the pit of you stomach), it’s dramatic and its just a little bit ridiculous (Serj Tankian’s breathy “skyyyy” during a hushed chorus cannot be taken seriously). It’s 100% SOAD and as a single it’s crushing. However, on an album that bathes itself in operatic ZappaMetal excess, it feels like it’s moving at around 60%.
“The Affiliated” by The Dukes of Stratosphear (from Chips From The Chocolate Fireball)
By in large, side projects/solo endeavors/random one-offs are for the obsessive fans only – typically only producing some fleeting enjoyment, but no real lasting impression. The Dukes Of Stratosphear have the make-up of a band that should not matter. They’re essentially a genre exercise (pastoral psychedelica meets Bacharachian pop flourishes) by a long-established band (XTC) opting to record an album (and a half) using pseudonyms (Andy Partridge as “Sir John Johns,” Colin Moulding as “Red Curtain” and David Gregory as “Lord Cornelius Plum”) and then forever disappearing into the night. Replace the names and faces and we’re looking at a Garth Brooks/Chris Gaines scenario. However, the Dukes may go down as that one side project that actually holds up. In fact, the band’s 1987 album Psonic Psunspot (which was released alongside the 25 O’Clock EP as Chips From The Chocolate Fireball) holds up as not only a great side project album, but one of the best XTC albums too (I’d likely rank it fourth or fifth). “The Affiliated,” while nowhere near an album highlight, captures the essence of the album: bookended by some dialogue snippets, the song is essentially two-thirds psychedelic Beatles/Byrds/Beach Boys homage and one-third Burt Bacharach, but despite the fact that it is clearly meant to be a genre excursion for XTC, but the sound is undeniably, intrinsically XTC, which means it’s pretty great.