Our Blood
Richard Buckner
Merge
It seems every article about Richard Buckner that I’ve read recently has mentioned his stint in upstate New York as a sign holder for construction crews. At one point, taking a break to warm himself up in his truck, he heard his own song on NPR radio — a bittersweet moment for the man, to be sure. But what makes the story so compelling to fans is that it weds so well with Buckner’s music, which is imbued with an almost desperate sense of realness.
Our Blood is Buckner’s first release in five long years. I say long, because it wasn’t supposed to be this way. After penning a soundtrack for a movie that was never released, Buckner twice had to start over with the music on this record, having both his tape recorder and his laptop stolen. But cursed though the production of this record may have been, it seems to sound all the better for it.
Traitor opens the record with an eerie synth that scratches out a strange rhythm before dropping away to reveal classic Buckner: driving electric rhythm guitar, simply adorned with a drum kit, an organ, and some slide guitar. And of course, there is his haunting voice, which is the sonic equivalent of flickering fire. When that eerie synth returns at the song’s close, it brings with it a feeling of impending doom. “Oh watch that temper, now/Is it worth it, wasted?/How far will you get?”
Citing a fondness for E.E. Cummings and a propensity to play with punctuation, Buckner weaves words together with the careful attention of an earnest poet. On Collusion, atop fingerpicked acoustic guitar, he sings, “Already gone with no goodbyes/locked up and out of key/You’d hear them sing the distant songs with familiar rings/luring you out until you could remember the chance you took.”
Our Blood is a brilliant record that deserves your attention. Maybe if more people listened, he wouldn’t have to hold up signs in the cold New York winters.
Watch the Throne
Jay-Z and Kanye West
Roc-A-Fella, Roc Nation, Def Jam
Loaded with guest stars and matchless production value, Watch the Throne is another celebration of celebrity of the sort we’re used to finding in Jay-Z and Kanye West’s music. But this doesn’t make it any less gripping.
No Church in the Wild opens everything with a watery guitar riff and a pumping kick drum above which Jay-Z and Kanye trade verses about the new religion of excess, where everything is permitted so long as no one gets caught — a theme that is to be repeated throughout the album. Frank Ocean sings the hook: “Human beings in a mob/What’s a mob to a king?/What’s a king to a God?/What’s a God to a non-believer who don’t believe in anything?”
The self-congratulatory verses of most popular rappers, riddled as they are with cliched bravado, are generally unlistenable on any level other than that of pure entertainment. But both Jay-Z and West incorporate a level of clever self-reflexivity that continually breathes fresh air into their rhymes.
On Niggas in Paris, for instance, Jay-Z shrugs off the recent struggles of the NBA’s New Jersey Nets (of which he is part owner): “The Nets could go 0 for 82 and I look at you like this shit gravy.” And Kanye makes use of the double meaning of “illest” (which can mean both “cool” and “sick”) while addressing public concerns for his own mental health: “Doctors say I’m the illest/cuz I’m suffering from realness.”
While it may not be the masterpiece that many had hoped for, Watch the Throne is a worthy release from two hip-hop heavyweights still in the prime of their careers.
Mirror Traffic
Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks
Matador
Stephen Malkmus is most famous for his role as primary songwriter in the legendary 1990s indie rock outfit Pavement. Following that band’s demise in 1999, Malkmus formed Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, releasing a number of albums to mostly positive reviews. Their latest work, Mirror Traffic may be their best yet.
Mirror Traffic is perhaps the most “Pavement” of all the band’s releases. As a friend keenly observed, it would seem as though touring with Pavement on its reunion tour last year may have “re-liberated the ‘I’ in his writing,” something that had vanished with the exit of his former band. Indeed, Malkmus does unfurl a great number of quirky, first-person lyrical witticisms on this record.
“I know what the senator wants/What the senator wants is a blow job” he reveals on the hook of Senator, which has all the makings of an instant indie-rock classic, with its crafty, crunchy chord work and irresistibly catchy refrains.
A guitar virtuoso in his own right, Malkmus’ trademark mix of jagged, angular melodies, enlightened pop sensibilities, and subtle country twang continues to sound fresh. Case in point is the track Brain Gallop, which showcases a selection of tastefully playful guitar licks, particularly during the song’s closing section. “There’s not much left inside my tank today/There’s just enough to come and throw you away.”
Mirror Traffic is a thoroughly engaging release, a solid collection of songs augmented by production that is silky smooth in all the right places (for which the band can thank Beck). Fans will not be disappointed.
We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves
John Maus
Upset the Rhythm
John Maus is revered as an indie pioneer in some circles, having been buddy-buddy with fellow lo-fi-flyer Ariel Pink during their formative years. His latest release, We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves, sees him continuing to trudge along the path toward ever more absurdly ethereal synth pop.
At times laughably simplistic and others impenetrably dense, We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves is an uncompromising voyage through Maus’ musical vision. The production choices he makes are quite distracting on first listen. But over time, as the stew simmers, they transform into some of the album’s most endearing qualities.
It’s difficult to communicate just how this transformation takes place. On Quantum Leap, an amateurish, somewhat funky bass riff is accompanied by vintage drum machine sounds as Maus’ mumbles something about traveling through time. His voice is deep, very deep, and always buried deep in the mix behind heavy effects. I know that all this sounds terrible, but the way these sounds mesh together is strangely magnetic.
Hey Moon is another gem. A plain, melancholic keyboard riff forms the backbone for a rather poignant duet with Molly Nilsson on what is probably the most easily accessible track on the record, with the sort of melody that lingers long after listening.
Most people will not like Maus, as in many ways he is the antithesis of popular music, even while he pays homage to it. But for those feeling a bit burnt out on the relative sameness of music — a sameness that stretches across all genres including those labeled independent or alternative — it may be worth a shot.
In late October of 1873 the government of Japan decided against sending a military expedition to Korea to force that nation to open trade relations. Across the government supporters of the expedition resigned immediately. The spectacle of revolt by disaffected samurai began to loom over Japanese politics. In January of 1874 disaffected samurai attacked a senior minister in Tokyo. A month later, a group of pro-Korea expedition and anti-foreign elements from Saga prefecture in Kyushu revolted, driven in part by high food prices stemming from poor harvests. Their leader, according to Edward Drea’s classic Japan’s Imperial Army, was a samurai
Located down a sideroad in old Wanhua District (萬華區), Waley Art (水谷藝術) has an established reputation for curating some of the more provocative indie art exhibitions in Taipei. And this month is no exception. Beyond the innocuous facade of a shophouse, the full three stories of the gallery space (including the basement) have been taken over by photographs, installation videos and abstract images courtesy of two creatives who hail from the opposite ends of the earth, Taiwan’s Hsu Yi-ting (許懿婷) and Germany’s Benjamin Janzen. “In 2019, I had an art residency in Europe,” Hsu says. “I met Benjamin in the lobby
April 22 to April 28 The true identity of the mastermind behind the Demon Gang (魔鬼黨) was undoubtedly on the minds of countless schoolchildren in late 1958. In the days leading up to the big reveal, more than 10,000 guesses were sent to Ta Hwa Publishing Co (大華文化社) for a chance to win prizes. The smash success of the comic series Great Battle Against the Demon Gang (大戰魔鬼黨) came as a surprise to author Yeh Hung-chia (葉宏甲), who had long given up on his dream after being jailed for 10 months in 1947 over political cartoons. Protagonist
Peter Brighton was amazed when he found the giant jackfruit. He had been watching it grow on his farm in far north Queensland, and when it came time to pick it from the tree, it was so heavy it needed two people to do the job. “I was surprised when we cut it off and felt how heavy it was,” he says. “I grabbed it and my wife cut it — couldn’t do it by myself, it took two of us.” Weighing in at 45 kilograms, it is the heaviest jackfruit that Brighton has ever grown on his tropical fruit farm, located