Sniffy has moved! You can find him here: sniffyvon.wordpress.com
Wednesday, 4 March, 2009
Sunday, 1 March, 2009
It May Go Right, It Might Go Wrong
Stone Roses - "This is the One"
(Phantasmagoria in Two)
I love taking baths for many reasons. Two of them are: 1.) I imagine this is the birthplace of all good songs where people like Thom Yorke sit and write the lyrics to his masterpieces, where he accidentally hits the shower button with his foot and suddenly the words "rain down on me" secures the inspiration for the weird dream bit in "Paranoid Android" and/or the many lyrics for the Hail to the Thief album where there are at least 6 dozen references to precipitation 2.) Or it's the grave site for many indie rockers who didn't quite make it, and since their career never quite took off, the final solution is to play out a bloody, deathly suicide akin to the one in The Rules of Attraction movie and/or this is where Morrissey and Marr wrote the bulk of their songs together, but after Marr decided to abstain from taking baths with Moz ever again, this is where their partnership with The Smiths ended.
Obviously the ways in which I talk about love and the things that I love are not your typical run o' the mill way of explaining things. Therefore, I am weird.
For about almost a week I've been dealing with something. It feels alien, it hurts and it's made me a wreck... I've fallen for someone (OK, here's Sniffy crushing out on one of his thousands of crushes), but it's not like that. Last week I met someone who doesn't suck (although that's not always a bad thing, hmpf) and yeah, I think my hard-ass, arsehole nature has taken a beating and I don't think I quite know how to deal. For anyone who knows me well enough, I look at dating as I do brussels sprouts (I hate them), but every once in a while I have to eat them just to remind me why I hate them. Over the course of a year, I've had maybe a half dozen servings of them (dates, not brussels sprouts... I had an analogy in there somewhere including Richard Simmons, but most of my analogies these days either contain 'tigers' or 'Siegfried and Roy' or both, lots of gay stuff usually). Now these dates haven't been huge failures or anything like that, but since I acquire the Billy Brown (Buffalo '66) philosophy to women - there are no girls that *I* like - then it makes it difficult to sustain anything past 2 or 3 consumptions of well, tasteless, green vegetables. To think of it, I can't really remember some of their names. There was that one who I never returned her 2 voice mails because she told me that she didn't understand Suede. Quite an asshol-ish thing to do, but anyone who hasn't felt the ache and ecstasy of Brett Anderson's voice throughout the duration of an epic like "The Power" needn't subscribe to my services. Yes, I am an elitist asshole that loves a semi-gay glam band. Then there's the other one whom I went out with on the last day of a 9-day cleanse. I was quite delirious and sweaty and spent a good amount of time talking about Beverly Hills 90210, in other words she probably thought I was gay (90210 + 9 day cleanse = Colossal FAG).
So when I met ___ last week, it was the romantic comedy that isn't the new u2 album (stolen from G.E.). The date itself had to be a cruel joke, it was at some oyster place in my hood that I had been to once before and for some reason they were playing the best music ever. It started off when I heard my 4th-favourite Echo & the Bunnymen song, "Bring on the Dancing Horses" then Sparklehorse, then Velvet Underground, then Pavement - the whole while I kept looking over my shoulder expecting to see my friend Gaz DJing, giving me a wink and a thumbs up... to no avail. Wtf, it was so Idioteque: "this is really happening." OK, so the music that is played in a restaurant shouldn't be the basis on why you like someone... actually it should, in the future if you're out on a date somewhere and you happen to hear "Poker Face" I give you permission to hate this person. Thankfully she comes well equipped with enough good things - Factory records obsessed, Smiths-loving, Irvine Welsh dedicated, Guinness enthusiast, hatred for squirrels and get this: she doesn't listen to or know any 'new' music. Admirable indeed. I know it's early in the game to be professing any sort of secure feelings for someone, but I know the week leading up to Date II (Now It's Personal) I felt like The Grinch in the latter part of the movie, I was John Cusack sans ghetto-blaster, I was that shithead in The Notebook (if only I didn't fail wood-shop class I might've built a house), I was nice to humans for a change (save for that asian lady clipping her nails on the bus), I was a big sack of cheesy Coldplay lyrics. Urgh, everything and anything you don't want in your Sniffy.
And since we're on the theme of all things in 2's... 1.) the only song she's ever sang at karaoke was "Ask" by the Smiths, this in itself is really cool for obvious reasons, but mostly because a theme-song about shyness contains the phrase 'the bomb'... 14 times 2.) in Grade 8 she sang "Don't Cry For Me Argentina" from the Evita soundtrack, the embarrassing tidbit of information I had to disclose in a little game of 'quid pro quo' was about my worst guilty pleasure song (aka: she now has the upper hand).
Oh, and one of the songs they played the night of our first date happens to be my 2nd favourite Stone Roses song, "This is the One." (not "The Two of Us" by Suede unfortunately). Unless you've been to Old Trafford in Manchester (where the Man United football team plays) then you'll likely never hear this song played in public. DJs at brit-pop nights side with "Elephant Stone" because it's like their fastest song, or "She Bangs the Drums" because well, it's their second fastest song. Any time I hear those ringing notes coming from Jon Squire's guitar in the intro to "This is the One", I get these immense goosebumps, I am happy. I once spent an entire afternoon trying to play the intricate sweep-picking part of the song on guitar, but I failed miserably. Somehow I can play Queensryche's "Silent Lucidity" without error, but give me something cool and I'm worse and about as useless as David Rocco behind a kitchen counter. Speaking of culinary geniuses, although the song contains the lyrics, "it may go right, it might go wrong," if it does go wrong, then I might just take up a cooking class. The first thing I'll learn how to prepare properly? .... Brussels Sprouts.
Right. Off to the bath, shall we?
Monday, 9 February, 2009
Dress Up In You
Depeche Mode - "Blue Dress"
(The World In My Eyes)
Unless you're a female of the species, you cannot profess your love for a band like Depeche Mode. Yeah, there's those dudes in fishnet chainmail who'll slam-dance incessantly to anything in their catalog including softer ballads like, "Question of Lust" and "Enjoy the Silence," but they don't count. Excuses for human beings never do. Then there's me who had an ex that was so obsessed she had to procure every "Never Let Me Down Again" remix that tallies way into the totals of US soldiers who perished in the Viet Nam war. I had to endure more Dee-Mode than I'd like to admit and I'd much rather have caught clap from a Coffee Time in China Town than to be subjected to constant repeats of "Blasphemous Rumours." Urgh. Let's face it, DM possess the correct amount of gayness that deters men from hanging on to every trilled note that Martin L. Gore sings or will position them in the front row of their shows so they can witness David Gahan peel off his mesh frock for the 9th time. But through all of the homoeroticism (Gahan and MLG are practically the real life versions of Frodo and Sam), there's the odd tune I hear that I don't mind, or let me rephrase that: really fucking love. Take "Blue Dress," an unassuming track with the perfect balance between ominous and romantic, perverse and sinister, it's one of those songs that for some reason I can't deny it's brilliance... even though I probably should. Anytime I think of a DJ set to play (if I *was* a DJ), this song is a no-brainer for a Rob Gordon set-up at track 3. If you know Gordon's formula for making a good mix, it starts with a bang, something big, loud and booming, Wilco's "Outtasite (Outta Mind)" will do, followed by another track equally bombastic like Pixies' "Debaser," then you throw something from left-field, possibly a ballad or a weird one like "Blue Dress." It's what "Subterranean Homesick Alien" is to OK Computer as is "The Rolling People" is to Urban Hymns, something that makes you go: hmmmmm? Mistakenly, "Blue Dress" is sandwiched to the back of Violator at number 8, stupid hobbits.
If you believe that iTunes is gospel, tracking and documenting each of your listening experiences like God would a good deed, or more importantly a sin, then you will be shocked to know that a life-saving tune of "Blue Dress's" magnitude would only reach a measly 5 plays in my arsenal. Why is this? Well, the *instrumental* portion of this song contains MLG sighing and working himself into masturbatory rapture while what sounds like a thousand earwigs are lemming-sing their way in and out of a bathtub drain. Sometimes I want to hear that, other times I don't. OK, 5 times I wanted to hear that, 20 to 25 other times I didn't.
Friday, 6 February, 2009
Try To See It My Way - We Can Work It Out
Magistrates - "Make This Work"
Am I the only one who thinks these guys will be huge? Maybe.
Monday, 29 December, 2008
Pissed In their Champagne and Did a Real Thing, Didn't We?
Top 8 of 2008 Part IV
Gazza Strip's Pick:
TV on the Radio - "Halfway Home"
(Enjoy The Science)
If TV on the Radio came out about 15 years ago, chances are we'd be looking at them now the same way we did with a band like the Pixies in the late 80s/early 90s. How'd we miss them the first go round? We'd say. Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on how you look at it), being a head of your time doesn't really exist anymore in today's ever expansive and accessible musical society. The rates and frequencies at which music changes hands/hard drives is astronomical and because there's so much of it, when a band sticks out above the rest of the pack - it's ever the more noticeable.
When 5 dudes from Brooklyn, NY released their debut album in 2001 called, Desperate Youth, Blood Thirsty Babes (of all things) I bet they didn't think their blend of avant-garde/experimental rock would light the torch for college rockers to indie brats which they would carry ever so high throughout nearly an entire decade... and the flame burns higher, brighter. Of course there are those on the sidelines who don't get it yet, and I don't entirely blame them. For a band who self-describes their music as "a'ccapella" and "surf barber shop rap" its not exactly something you'd associate with pleasant music listening experiences (unless you were dealing in game show land and Carmen SanDiego herself, was standing at the helm). Then again, I tried to dislike them, I really did, but the last time I tried to do that with a Brooklyn-based band, I am now 3 concerts, 3 albums, 2 band interviews and 1 NYC stalking experience away from buying a black Armani suit with a white tie and naming my future never-born daughter, Stella. But for all that was talked about our good friend, Girl Talk this year - who has become the recent equivalent to Jive Bunny and the Mastermixers - if that's the case, then TVotR's Dear Science is 2008's Purple Rain. But in place of Prince's pink and purple fusion is a smattering of dark bloody, maroon with 1,000 shades of gray. TVotR's music - and Dear Science in particular - runs the gamut of epic and majestic, bringing the sounds of the gutters to street surface, spraying all its brutal ugly in throaty hyper-drama, so we can survey the worms and guts and pray that beyond all hope, a tiny flower might sprout from beneath it all. And so it does...
"Halfway Home" as chosen by our dear friend Gaz was/is how he described it on first listen - "a punch to the face." A good way to summarize the current crop of annual critics picks where there's little separation from the mainstream and the underground (Check Pitchfork vs. Billboard this year and you'll find little difference in choices). We as music listeners should be perturbed that our parent's music is making it to number 1 and I'm talking about Fleet Foxes (who I admire quite much), but are nothing more than Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young disguised in beards and flannel. "Is it not me? Am I not folded by your touch? The words you spoke/I know too much/It's over now/And not enough" the words of TVotR's Tunde Adebimpe provide a more profound outlook on the goings-on of this curtain reveal, and as much as we should wait for another greasy blonde-haired brat from Aberdeen or a few lager louts from Manchester to save the day, we don't have to because history is already being rewritten as we speak...
...And you're the one who holds the pen now... or um, mouse button.
This person also liked: Walter Meego, Human Highway and Ray LaMontagne
Wednesday, 24 December, 2008
Bourne To Gaze Into Night Skies
Top 8 of 2008 Part III
LaQQuanza's Pick:
Cut Copy - "So Haunted"
(At My Ghost Beautiful)
The last time I was in Australia, I battled a serious bout of alcoholism. It wasn't my fault, I blame the beer for tasting so good... that and I fell in love with Melbourne, (my 2nd choice of places I'd move to in a heartbeat, I'm already living in my first choice in case you were wondering... and Sydney is just a hole). The state capital of Victoria, AU is the least likely place where you'd find the second coming of Air or Daft Punk, but for graphic designer, turned DJ, turned electro-pop prince, Dan Whitford is making sure he puts Australia on the map for something other than Marmite and Men @ Work. Whitford and trio have transcended all those corny moments of 80s new wave acts like Human League and moulded them into a listenable blend of dance-punk that their tropical climate control usually suggests against. "So Haunted" booms to life with an all-out Doves-like assault, warbles the koalas from the trees and summons Bez from slumber... and then its Whitford at the helm who spits out his lyrics like they were a frantic yesterday, "there's all these satellites, satellites, satellites, orbiting you and me," only to be smoothed out in chorus with one of the most misheard lyrics since, "Scuse me while I kiss this guy" - "get so HORNY/haunted, I fall in your dreams tonight." Darn those accents are so cute. Then there's the 2:53 mark where I say to myself, 'why did I ever feel ashamed for liking the Pet Shop Boys?' sheesh.
This person also liked: Wolf Parade, The Black Keys and Kings of Leon
Scatterbrain's Pick:
Luluc - "Little Suitcase"
(Excuses For Travelers)
Luluc (pronounced: Lou-Luke), Not the prettiest bunch are they? But, hey here's something that will pierce right through your heart, (and I'm not talking about a man-sized Steve Irwin stingray bite... c'mon, dude had it coming to him, fooling around with the wild kingdom). If Leonard Cohen was part of the XX chromosome ilk, chances are he'd sound a lot like this bird from Melbourne. Every once in a while a duo from Australia sings in a coffee house and its crowds are like, 'wow, you could be the next Savage Garden, the next Frente, the next Luluc!' and so we have it, Zoe Rendell and her David Usher look-alike brother (we'll call him Fleur, ya know cause don't he look and smell like one?) are yet again able to create music that is unlike their temperature gauge. "Little Suitcase" sounds like the sort of music you might've heard coming from Stuart Murdoch and Isobel Campbell's squat back in the day, after a night on the piss, walking home in wet slush in -15 and slipping further into a row, only to save the night by warming their bones beside the fire... and falling further in love... and hate. 'pack me suitcase ye right twat!'
This person also liked: Lykke Li, She & Him and Passion Pit
Sunday, 21 December, 2008
I Held On As Tightly As You Held On To Me
sad song for a windy morning...
Cinematic Orchestra w/Patrick Watson - "To Build a Home"
As the snow continues to fall outside my window and as much as I often feel I'm on the set of The Shining/and or The Thing lately, I'm content as can be. Of course finding my new favourite song of the moment might be the reason, and as a result there'll be no cabin fever even though as cold and miserable as it looks outside right now, it's almost inviting. "Wendy... give me the bat!"
So last year around this time I managed to fall in love with The Veils' "Leavers Dance" song and wanted to hear nothing else but that song. After seeing the new TV ad for Chivas Regal I had to locate the song that would replace it - thank God for google.... I suggest you don't read the lyrics unless you've got your tissues ready... especially during the piano build.
Monday, 15 December, 2008
And The Wind Is Blowing Like It's The End Of The World (You Said)
A-Rach-Naphobia's Pick:
The Last Shadow Puppets - "My Mistakes Were Made For You"
(You'll Never Make a Monkey Out Of Me)
For the amount of time and effort it took bands like Blur and Pulp to summarize what it meant to be a scoozin' Brit - living in not so glorious sociopolitical and creative times, Alex Turners' Arctic Monkeys were able to footnote their period quickly with 9 simple words: Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not. Turner and company's most anticipated album of the new millennium had a lot to live up to against such British staples as "Park Life" and "A Different Class," (which are almost commonplace with such things as crisps and cricket as far as the Limes are concerned), but at the measly age of 19, the Monkeys captured the new era of Britain and it's throwback to 1980s counterculture with ease it seemed. Whether such comparisons to lyric-legends like Morrissey are ever warranted and whether you even enjoy their music, one thing is certain: Alex Turner can do whatever he wants. And so he has. With the aid of Miles Kane (of The Rascals), Turner has formed yet again a duo that encapsulates everything English - from the snotty swagger of Ashcroft to the lager and lads bravado of Oasis et al to the mod espionage of Paul Weller - "My Mistakes Were Made For You" is the sort of tune you'd listen to while tracing a bullet casing of a suspicious caper, one that leads you straight to the scene of the crime: Spector's afro.
This person also liked: The Verve, Noah and the Whale and Elbow
Thursday, 11 December, 2008
I Am Going To Make It Through This Year If It Kills Me
Rather than stew endlessly about the prospects of what to do with the pile of discs sitting upon my desk, I've decided to go for the jugular and finally slay this beast known as 2008. See, last Friday it was the annual geek-a-thon, where participants dissected the year that was, and came up with their top picks for this year. Rules were simple: No Coldplay... just kidding, although no one went that route (and I'm glad they didn't) as I would look like a bigger asshole than I already am having to escort them out of the sniffy mansion. It was a peculiar assembly of tunes I must say. In a year that was one of the best since 05 or 06, there were no selections from some of the big releases like Portishead or Bloc Party (a real stinker) or *cough* Coldplay, but one thing is for sure, Fleet Foxes were the shit, but still not good enough for number 1. Of course there were a few surprises and I even shocked myself by not selecting anything from Mogwai, The Dears or Glasvegas (a band whose demo tape shot up to as high as #3 on my list last year). Just goes to show how strong a year it was. Now that all those teasers are behind us (3 weeks... 7 days... 3 days... boom!), like thank god, I'm quite sorry that there isn't much more of surprise to give you - like a clip of me humping a steel pole in NYC... not that it ever happened. I swear.
On to it?
Rookie Reck's Pick:
The Secret Machines - "Now You're Gone"
(Ace Of Space)
Secret Machines have always been ridiculed for taking themselves too seriously. In a city like NYC (from which they hail) unless you're the son of the owner of a high-class modeling agency, dating Drew Barrymore or your surname starts with the letter "O" and ends in, well, "O" too, then New York isn't paying attention to you. Yes, it is the place where the colour girls go "do-do-do" but not where bands explore colours of sound by implementing an explosion of warm atmospherics in a little thang critics like to call 'space-rock.' Ask Jason Pierce of Spiritualized about the tag and he'll probably tell you its often synonymous with the word 'boring' and not selling a disgusting amount of records. However, for the patient listener, there is something to be said about bands like Secret Machines who are able to reward people (like me) who fall for this stuff every time. And despite its forlorn theme and constant heart-string meddling, singer/bassist Brandon Curtis assures that "Now You're Gone" was written about his ability to lose things like his keys rather than some bimbo down in SoHo. This track easily has been my favourite of the whole session and I must say that I'm a little ashamed for being oblivious to the fact that they even released something this year. It reminds me of all those lost great bands like Remy Zero and is just a shade under being a Stabbing Westward ballad, but thank god, it's only just a shade... Great pick by the rookie!
This person also liked: The Arkells, The Stills and The Raveonettes
Maestro Fresh Reck's Pick:
Girl Talk - "Play Your Part (Part I)"
(Mashes of American Flags)
He's a Biomedical Engineer by day and DJ extraordinaire by night. Either way he's armed with a laptop 24/7 and as much time as he spent knocking the socks off listeners/dancers in 2008, he probably spent looking for an attorney. Nicknamed "a lawsuit waiting to happen" by the New York Times, Gregg Gillis is just your average dude/nerd who stumbled upon the mash-up phenomenon, but found a way to home it out to everyone. How did he achieve this? By becoming your favourite wedding DJ on A.D.D. as his repertoire spans everything from Journey to Sinead to Twisted Sister all within the same track. His set plays out like a Simpsons episode where as many references that you actually *get* the next person might not (and so on). Whether his craft is to be called genius is yet to be determined, but for a fast-paced, loosey-goosey world in which we live in right now, Girl Talk is comfort food for you, the impatient listener who wants an injection of serotonin NOW. Question is, will you be reaching for this album in 5 year's time or Sufjan's Come on Feel The Illinoise? Hmmm...
This person also liked: Goldfrapp, Cat Power and Shearwater
Your Humble Narrator's Pick:
Brian Borcherdt - "Coyotes"
(Full Of Woe And Further To Go)
Selecting a number 1 this year was hard. That's a good thing. That means there was a lot out there to choose from and although Deerhunter came *this* close to taking the cake this year, a little fellow by the name of Brian Borcherdt came out on top and it came down to the last day. Don't get me wrong, Deerhunter's Microcastle is a modern-day OK Computer or Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, but as far as song-wise, Borcherdt's title track from his latest 7-song sampler of haunting beauties got me (The Grinch) right in the spot where my little aorta lies. My first encounter with this dude happened back in 2004 where he played his first show ever as a solo artist and began his set with one of my favourite songs in existence, a number called, "Motel." Then a few years later he played at my friend's 30th birthday bash and covered Madonna's "Girl's Just Want To Have Fun" and made it sound like the most endearing tune ever... (Not that it already isn't?). What sets Borcherdt a part from all those solo-humdrum basement dwellers (ala Hayden, Smog, Elliott Smith et al) is the fact that his wintry expanse of sadness is just an outlet he uses from time-to-time as he's also a member of the highly successful and happy Holy Fuck and doesn't have to escape to a log cabin for 3 months to achieve the same effect as his counterparts. He's the reason I still play guitar and write songs in my bedroom that no one will ever get to hear.
This person also liked: Deerhunter, M83 and Bon Iver
Saturday, 6 December, 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
