farewell to children//If Only We Could Be Forever

Odd Nosdam - Untitled Three (JB's OG Mix)
the fuzz is beautiful white noise in this track, and the quiet movement of the crackle's steady pace insists that 4 am is bedtime as your head nods to beat and sleep. i swear that voice is coming from behind my ceiling. or, i've finally learned to dream with my eyes open. either way, my dim haze of insomnia leaves me with only nosdam's chalk-powder music. if you don't want to surrender to pillow sin, then devote your dawn to headphones and press play.
// shoegaze.electronica. \\

Ruby Suns - It's Mwangi In Front Of Me
i lied. insomnia grants ears more time, and they have perked to dusty tracks of gentle lush. i have read somewhere that overexposed kids compare suns to collectives, and i agree, in some instances, but tonight i offer evidence for distinction. if animals gathered kevin shields and made him smile with only an acoustic device, then the suns have left utero to watch, listen, and learn. i think they did.
// experimental.atmospheric \\

Ryan Adams - The Shadowlands
now you can hear better, i bet. this is easily depressing, so keep a firm grin as you listen. or, settle for tears and hug your blanket tighter until your knuckles look like piano keys. this is a song for loners. or, a song for people who like people enough to miss some of them. either way, enjoy the time you've spent considering whether or not you like ryan adams. i've settled on admiration, let me know where you've ended up.
// alternative.pop \\

I'd like to think we all leave for a better existence. Can you smile as you walk out the door?
A challenge I'd wager few would take, but still some might internalize
and I don't mind that; the more people try and remember to smile, the closer we get to a better
existence. If not that, then, at least, with door shut behind, the future is so immediate you may laught at the ridiculous existence you have lived since wood shut still.

I hope you'll smile after you've laughed enough.


// photo by jj \\

playpen sex//Let's Dream!

Cannonball Jane - Take It To Fantastic (Smallstars Remix)
just discovered this artist a few hours ago. fantastic electropop sound that borders on delightfully spastic, like a twitch you may get when you feel so completely happy your smile threatens to jump off your face and onto the stranger next to you. it bubbles up with such distorted goodness that tastes more like candy with each listen. ms cannonball has this melody she tosses around that is sure to get stuck in your head, but its ok, this aural plague is worth the sleepless night ahead of you.
// electro.pop \\

Cut Copy - Lights & Magic
woah, 80s. flashy waves of mock depeche could only sound better if the year actually was 1986. a dark happy; even the evil must enjoy something worth enjoying, and here hell dances to this track underneath a flaming disco ball. ok, it might not be that evil. but there is something underneath the glamour and shine this track shoves in your face. and i believe that something to be a den of sin.
//electro.dance \\

Jamie Lidell - Out Of My System
motown, as done by a white boy who dabbled in IDM. your parents will probably like this track as much as you do, and no, i don't care how old you think your parents are. they still have hearts of children, and those hearts will pound double to the beat of this highly dance-able, sing-along classic that's not even a classic, but go ahead and tell mr lidell that; he sounds like he's convinced himself that his home has been your record player for the past thirty years. a clean-shaven tenet, but this track has a coke addiction
// pop.soul.funk \\

Music, more music! the daylight has demanded a party with acid-funk
so i'll throw my backyard into a blotter daze
and maybe we can strip naked together, i don't think the grass is wet
but if it is, how about a summer bath with acid-wash haze?
Warmth, oh the warmth! that spectral force of life and heat
thank you for this shine delivered and received
my smoke has tangled up these crisp leaves you've toasted clean
and soon our bath becomes a pool of flame-soaked feet
but i don't mind the dancing
and this fire's so entrancing
or maybe its just the sheets our tongues have licked
and the bad habit in two years we'll have to kick
the manic mindset we'll slip ourselves in
and without escape, indulge the acid-made sin;
but i feel so cozy, i feel close to sleep - this pyre of lust we've created is reaching to beyond
imagine that? our fires colliding
and dancing together, like acid-step and acid-twist,
winding itself upwards to explode in a shower of sparks that rest so gently on our eyelashes.

when i whistle the tune you have in your head, i hope you stop dancing and lay next to me
every fire must burn away, but i'd rather we keep ours burning till the woods sweat and plead
for us to end our night, and greet the stars and lights in the evening sky
with evening sleep full of acid-dreams.

- tgrs

Calm Down, Please, Just Calm Down//do you care enough?

Unique post.

I believe Animal Collective's song 'Doggy' to be one of the single most heart-wrenching pieces of music created in the 21st century. I challenge you to tell me differently.
If you've ever fallen in love with your pet, you will understand.
If you've ever lost a pet, you will understand.

One of the best things about this song is Avey Tare's lyrics, which you can find here, written from the oft-forgotten perspective of childhood. If you have the time, try reading these along with the music in each version of 'Doggy' I post. All three versions convey different feelings, ranging from sorrow, acceptance, to happy remembrance, but the soul of the song remains unchanged by its lyric's innocent magnificence.

Doggy (off of 'Campfire Songs,' 2001)
The first recorded incarnation of this song was performed on a porch in Maryland by members Avey Tare, Panda Bear, and Deakin; soundscape put together by Geologist. Emotive in its simplicity, the original 'Doggy' track travels across bounces into sublime shimmers and delicate strums, then exploding into a strange chorus of harmonies that gives chills for its effectiveness.

Sleeper Factory/Doggy (from BBC Radio 1 Breezeblock Session, 2004)
One of the best versions available of both 'Sleeper Factory,' a b-side with as much beauty and charm as any released song from the group, and 'Doggy,' segued into with an off-handed grace Animal Collective wield at every live show (and one of the best reasons to see this band live; their set usually has only three pauses for applause, otherwise all their songs flow one into the next in new ways each night). The best chance to hear clearly the lyrics, though the bridge melodies in this session aren't achieved as well as in the original.

Doggy/Hey Light (from another BBC Radio Session, in 2007)
An updated take on 'Doggy,' with added percussion and effects that exactly demonstrates how Animal Collective's sound has grown from the dawn of this decade. My personal favorite version. Also, another AC-styled segue, this time into 'Hey Light,' a work from Here Comes The Indian (2003). Certainly a taste of how AC's 2007-08 tours have sounded. Just less loud.

Personal anecdote none of you may care about (if so, then just download, listen, and forget all about me): I had heard the Campfire Songs version of Doggy first, but never got into it. Then I heard this version, and my obsessive love for this song and everything about it began. Ironically, since I connected with this live jam more than the acoustic melancholy off Songs, I thought 'Doggy' was joyous as a celebration of pets past loved and soon to be found, but certainly not depressing. The beat was too dance-worthy, the harmonies too Beach Boys-esque. But therein lies the charm of 'Doggy:' the woe of a dog's death, the stubborn reluctance to accept this loss, and the eventual grin that decorates your face as you remember the delight shared between you and your doggy when you lived together are all expressed in one song, but each facet is demonstrated differently depending on how the band decides to perform it. And so after dancing around my room for the umpteenth time to the last version, I decided to finally read the lyrics - and my heart sank. I listened to the jam again, and this time sat down, my head in my hands, reeling from my own past struggle to cope with the vicious theft of my best friend by the perverted hands of a debilitating cancer. As the memories of one year past broke free from their hidden cage in the back of my mind, I forgot about the uplifting percussion, the sunny day harmonies, and the only lyrics I had picked up on before:

"Such a sweet doggy."

The words burst from my speakers and collided with the thought of that very day I handed over my "doggy" to a death dealer, those curious demons who hide evil behind diplomas and prescriptions, apathy behind sweet talk and behind-the-ear scratches, and I took in the full meaning of AC's 'Doggy.' It was over-powering. I then immediately played the original version, and was subsequently floored again. How could I have missed this? I scolded myself for my pathetic listening skills. I then rushed to gather every version of the song available in a mad dash to absorb the track completely, in all its flavors. I knew I had found something special when even the shittiest live recordings, done from some thirteen year old's cell phone, managed to punch me in the throat. For a while, I couldn't listen anymore. It was getting too difficult to hear a stranger lament over a tragedy I felt too in common. I certainly couldn't listen to it in front of other people; what used to be a favorite for me to blast in circles and groups now made me unsightly choke up. So I left 'Doggy' cold for a few weeks. The song was too perfect for me to even listen to it.

The weeks up to her death, her eyes flooded with blood and her bowels uncontrollably emptied as she stumbled into furniture. The days before her death, she sat underneath her chair and stared blankly out the front door. The day she died, she was scared as I left her. I was too.
But now I focus on how she loved the first snow, to eat some in leaped bounds; how she loved barking at eggs and toasters; how she loved the cool tile floor; how she bent her ears back when you pet her; how she taught herself to raise her paw and ask for more; how the first time I met her, she nibbled on my fingers until I would take her home; how when I did, she ran around me in circles for a full minute before collapsing on my lap.
She shed a lot, and I still find her hairs everywhere. I don't mind anymore.

Isn't this how all music should be? Shouldn't every song take you by the ears and spin you madly until you either puke from the strain or take over and shake yourself wildly in circles because that is the only choice you have to express how wonderful the music has affected you? I believe that to be the only goal for music. If your audience is not brought to tears, to dancefloors, to inspiration, to grinning, to singing, to roaring, to shaking, or even to puking, then you have nothing to offer the world but noise.

/end anecdote+commentary. I posted all three versions for you, the AC obsessive, the AC skeptic, the accidental reader, the mp3 downloader, the elbo.ws searcher, or even the frequent viewer, to discover a taste of what I think is beautiful about this world.


it's certainly been a long time//Sun and Rain and Weather Stories

Paavoharju - Tuoksu Tarttuu Meihin
one of the most beautiful pieces I've heard in awhile. trapped in a jungle's rainstorm with a storyteller and a thirteen year old opera singer. if the amazon could smile, it would sound like these three minutes. there is a hidden calm in this track you could only discover if you sit in front of a very large window with headphones on during a grey season. believe in the out-of-body, it is a freeing concept.
// atmosheric.world \\

Festival - Bind Us All
sisters from brooklyn, voices from a southern gospel record of the 1860's. harmonies waltz with bells and spin melodies around dungeon drums that beg for an imaginative listening experience. folk without the beards. their 'Come, Arrow, Come!' album has beautiful, engaging, unnatural sounds spun with child-like innocence. these girls must have heard angels in the womb.
// folk.pop.country \\

Fleet Foxes - Sun Giant
debut ep. beach boys gone boy scouts gone henry david thoreau. if all the woodsmen in the world sang in unison, it would pale in comparison to fleet foxes' five-piece sound. drenched in a thicket of reverb, this track begs a mountain view and crisp morning air. city cells and wild backyards are patches of insignificance to the landscape this band uses as their stage.
// folk.vocal.pop \\

Bon Iver - For Emma (Take Away Show Rip)
two sectioned epic. first, a soul-wrenching acapella sung in the entrance hallway of a French apartment building. second, a walking conclusion backed by guitar and keys down rain-soaked concrete in line with an attentive audience. beautiful piece ripped from La Blogotheque's amazing Take Away Show series. i recommend the Arcade Fire, Sufjan Stevens, volcano!, and Animal Collective TAS's as well. enjoy, and please go further.

How come the bluebird woe? Why stay these thundercloud summers? My June is escaping my memory and refusing to accept come July, why for? July must come as September falls, and soon September will rise again, as it has forever ago when first September was lifted by the creative minds of our language artisans. Do not fret; June leaves and July scares, but August will excite uncontrollably, for it will bring the amazing birth of another century of love, smiles, tears, dreams, and laughs. Soon you will decide the soundtrack of fiction's life, and children will hear what you hear when you finally press play. The world will sound like the air is laughing, the trees are dancing, and the sun hugs its family close, but only when you can bring August down from a future fear to present confidence. If I could make you love what songs you have to offer, bluebird, I would try hard to dry June's showers and dispel July's heat; but I cannot play the Tempest, no matter how my heart wishes itself the strength to calm the storms you fear, I cannot play with what you have to suffer. Suffer to conquer, through robins, jackels, lions and eagles, a flight of perseverance I believe weaker than your steady wings. My gift to you is only my heart, my heart, though too small for its Olympian hubris, but large enough to pass eight hours with enduring solitude and patience for next winter's June, when you, my bluebird, may end your woes and sing with colours I will have waited all season to hear again.

Do not fret. Look back, but do not stare - blink
at memories, those cherished, those hated,
and fly forever on until the nest is ready for your weary feet.

I want you all to have this.