So, what have I been listening to this summer? Hah, glad you asked.
Dry Spells’ “Rhiannon”…yes, the Stevie Nicks song, got a problem with that?
Lights’ “Can You Hear Me”…fantastic second album from the Brooklyn freak-folk Lights, not the girl from Canada
Marmoset’s “He’s Been Napping”…a band that got left behind by lo-fi’s first wave (GBV, Pavement) now takes a shot at the second (Blank Dogs, Crystal Stilts), really nice album, very early 1990s
Grand Duchy’s “Fort Wayne”…hey, that sounds like Frank Black, and he’s singing about my hometown!
Susana Baca’s “Los Lagartos”…afro Peruvian diva singing words by Garcia Lorca, very nice…from Seis Poemas, out on Luaka Bop in a couple of weeks.
Rosie Flores’ “Halfway Home” Austin rockabilly/country/tex-mex diva singing a Jon Langford song, with Langford playing backup. The album Girl of the Century coming in November on Bloodshot.
Hoots & Hellmouth’s “What Good are Ploughshares?” Philly based string band with a helluvan edge.
Steve Earle’s “Mr. Mudd and Mr. Gold” Townes Van Zandt cover (one of many on the new Townes)…thanks Rob!
Ty Segall’s “Untitled #2”…fantastic all-instrumental groove from the SF-based one-man band…though I think he’s got some other people now.
Jay Reatard’s “Man of Steel”…you can tell lo-fi is about over when Jay Reatard records a really clean, melodic pop record. Very nice, though.
White Hills’ “Radiate”…another one of those hard-to-find debuts reissued on Thrill Jockey in anticipation of the wide-release follow-up (see Pontiak)…nice bit of drony guitar rock.
UVVWWZ’s “Jap Dad”…the Deerhoof-y track from the album I reviewed yesterday.
Double Dagger’s “Vivre Sans Temps Mort”…another band that may have a Shellac record or two in the collection.
Talbot Tagora’s “Ichthus Hop”…boundless youth, boundless enthusiasm, vive la punk rock.
Malcolm Middleton’s “Subset of the World”…in which our favorite tobacco-y voiced Scot goes all existential but still rocks pretty hard.
Hallelujah the Hills’ “Allied Lions”…killer track from the band that reminds me most of Neutral Milk Hotel, without, you know, ripping them shamelessly or even probably trying.