Partly this is because Hussalonia is really good*, partly it’s because they (mostly just he — Jesse Mank basically is Hussalonia, although he has some collaborators on some tracks) is strikingly diverse, encompassing minimalist folk, musique concrète, power pop, heavy metal — too many genres to list. Like the work of many of my favorite songwriters, Mank’s songs are frequently funny and serious simultaneously; they’re seldom straightforwardly jokey. (His track-by-track re-invention of Billy Joel’s 1980 new-wave cash-in album Glass Houses is no joke; it’s a revelation.**)

“For Those About to Rock, We Ignore You,” is one of those tunes that makes me smile and wince at the same time and it melds a couple of Mank’s aesthetic directions. It’s about how unpleasant it can sometimes be to make it through a local band’s set to hear the band you came to see (or are in). This is certainly familiar territory for me.*** Mank approaches it with delicate picked acoustic guitar and a hushed, appropriately world-weary vocal. But what lifts it into the realm of the extraordinary are the underlying layers of guitar feedback — noisy, but melodically smart, and at least partly belying the sentiment of the lyric. (Another of Mank’s projects, Satan Among the Sofa Cushions, is a heavy metal EP that is too successful as metal to be dismissed as parody, even if Mank’s tongue is clearly in his cheek.)

Jesse Mank is manifestly uninterested in participating in the industry part of the music industry; his recent catalogue is only distributed digitally, and he gives the vast bulk of it away free on the entertaining and informative Hussalonia website.

*Triple-threat good: he’s an outstanding songwriter, a gifted multi-instrumentalist, and displays much more solid recording chops than I expect from indie home-recordists.

**Glass Houses was one of the first three LPs I ever bought, but while I still like Steve Miller Band’s Greatest Hits 74-78 and even some of Foreigner’s self-titled album, Glass Houses was the first record I disowned. I used an exacto to cut up the cover so it said “Mr. Shit” instead of “Billy Joel.” I hadn’t thought of that in years, and certainly never regretted it until Mank’s amazing renditions made me want to A-B against the original.

***For a couple years I’ve been trying to finish writing a song that starts “There’s not enough booze in this bar/To get me through another set by your band/And there’s not enough beer in my glass/To get me through one more song/But I’m too cheap to waste half a drink/So I guess I’ll buy another round.” Mank’s lyric is much better than mine; also, he finished his.

So maybe the most useful thing I can about “Mom and Dad Play Rock’n'Roll” is that listening to it makes tears well up in my eyes more than anything I can remember since Wilco’s Being There. I do think the song has ample quality in non-subjective terms. The lyric examines the plight of gracelessly aging amateur rockers with an odd mix of precision and compassion. The arrangement is masterful — I’m especially fond of the way the bass comes in at 1:11, right before “move the boxes, find the Gibson, dusty rust along the strings,” and the Cheap Trick-ish doubling of the last word of “your neighbors come to watch the house, and New York’s just two hours away.” I even learned to love the (thematically appropriate) fade out/fade back in and ramshackle finale.

It’s painfullly obvious to me, though, that part why this song cranks up my waterworks is because I, personally, have been wondering lately if I’ve already played my last show. The lyrics are all about the possibility of putting a band together again — but the chord progression knows that the possibility will remain forever unfulfilled.

It’s also worth mentioning that the album this song is from, Class Dismissed also features “Outbored Motor Boys,” the single best Bob Pollard pastiche I’ve ever heard.

Hat tip to Brian Block for hipping me to Krieger to start with.

“Salivating” was the first thing I heard from The Broken Family Band, but they’ve been around for a handful of years/albums, and I’m gradually exploring their back catalogue. They apparently started out as a sort of British take on Americana, with some identifiably country-ish traits, but now they’re producing straightforward rock with no particular genre signifiers. “Salivating,” with its bouncy bassline, simple-but-hooky verse riff, and energetically strummed chorus, sounds a little like a distant cousin of The Godfathers circa Birth, School, Work, Death.

Please and Thank You has several more strong songs, and a quarter of the way through 2009, it’s my current candidate for year’s best album.

At the moment you can listen to Salivating at The Broken Family Band’s official website.

The trick an unabashedly retro act needs to pull off is to craft songs worthy of the obvious influences. Nanobots deliver the goods with “Spontaneous Combustion.” It features an arresting, octave-hopping, staccato, guitar-masquerades-as-keyboard riff and outstandingly geeky (and hooky) co-ed call-and-response chorus (”No chemical/Spontaneous!/Accelerant/Spontaneous!”).

Nanobots have been active almost four years, but so far have left little recorded evidence — I’ve only tracked down a pair of (digital) singles. “Spontaneous Combustion” is only available in a live version on the one from Simbiotic Recordings that hints at, but doesn’t fully realize the song’s potential — the sound is a little murky and the performance is not quite as tight as you might expect from a studio recording. But Nanobots’ energy and enthusiasm carry the day, as far as I’m concerned, and if they can put together an album with a few more songs this good it will be a year’s best shortlist shoe-in.

If they make it to Boston (and I hope they do), they’d fit perfectly sandwiched on a bill between two Beantown acts: the similarly retro Miskatonic, and the similarly twitchy Ho-Ag.

But if they pull a “Mission of Burma”-style return to active duty (and I hope they do), I would love to see/hear them again when they have another few shows under their belt, hopefully in a better-sounding room, and when I’ve had a chance to rein in my own unrealistic expectations a bit.

Damn, I’m prescient. Original bassist Steve Michener was missed, especially on “Ron Klaus Wrecked His House,” “Hey! Mr. Liconoln,” and “Faith Healer,” tunes to which generally capable fill-in man Tommie could not quite bring the required subtlety. But on the whole September 2008 Dipper seemed more sure-footed than April 2008 Dipper. Bill Goffrier had a little trouble pacing his voice through the set, but saved plenty of vim and vigor for the encore (”You’re Not Patsy”). And, most promisingly, there was a new tune (”Joke,” according to Bill’s shirt) with the typical Dipper earmark: just when you think you’ve got it pinned down, it takes a sharp left turn without becoming an iota less catchy. As an added bonus, after all these years, I’m finally clear on who is Bill and who is Gary Waliek. Bill is on the left:

Big Dipper seemed to feel constrained by their set time, so we didn’t get to hear two of the songs on Bill’s shirt, “Meet the Witch” and “Guitar Named Desire.”

We did, however, get to hear: Mr. Woods, She’s Fetching, Loch Ness Monster, Wake Up the King, Lunar Module, “Joke,” Edith, Bony Knees of Nothing [Gary: Here's one from our bad album. Bill: He's cute, he's real cute], Hey! Mr. Lincoln, Ron Klaus Wrecked His House, All Going Out Together, Younger Bums, and a rousing earned-encore rendition of You’re Not Patsy:

Bill says “Oh, yeah!!”

I do, too.

Also, Bill said a word to me! It was “Hi.” I was struck dumb.

*

Boston Spaceships were really friggin’ good. It’s a little scary sometimes to watch Pollard: at times, he seemed like the incoherent rambling man you’d want not to sit next to on the bus. But he can still sing. And the band, critically, stayed a little less soused. There was a hellalotta beer on stage, but there was also some vitamin water.

Tommy Keene brought much rock and gave great guitar cord:

Jason Narducy brought much rock. But do not throw a beer at this man! He does not like it when you do that.

Chris Slusarenko and John Moen brought much rock too, but I didn’t manage to photograph them doing it very well. This is maybe a good time to mention that “Rat Trap” rocked so hard and so well I didn’t even recognize it.

Selected bits of Bob Pollard’s wisdom:

“I remember playing the ‘rat back in 1978″ (much laughter).

Much love was expressed for Dipper and Bill Goffrier’s moves, in particular “the circle,” but I didn’t capture it verbatim.

“That was fucking prog rock [mumble] Peter Gabriel. It moved me. I don’t give a shit what it did to you, but it moved me.”

“Drunk and tight — if you can do that, you’ve got it made.” Which is a good point to get heretical: I saw Guided by Voices only twice, and neither was a typical GbV experience; one was an outdoor festival with the classic lineup, and one was the co-headlining tour with Cheap Trick. But Boston Spaceships might be a better band than GbV. Moen’s an awesome drummer, Narducy kept up with him, and the guitar onslaught of Slusarenko and Keene was nigh onstoppable. So I felt a bit bad about this:

People were pretty much going apeshit all night, but the end of the first encore was “Game of Pricks” and everybody went really apeshit. (Incidentally, I do believe the club did not want the band to play a second encore — one of the few times I’ve seen the house lights go back down after coming all the way up.*) From there on out it was all GbV: A Salty Salute, Motor Away, [I think I forgot something here], Cut-Out Witch, and Tractor Rape Chain. And this band and this band’s material deserved better than to get the biggest response of the night for the other band’s songs. But here’s why I was going apeshit, in especial particular: because I could feel just how much Chris Slusarenko had dreamed of playing these very songs and how much he love playing them, and because I know how very much fun most of those songs are to play myself. So there’s that.

* It’s gotta be a bit of a double-edged sword to book Pollard into your club. You know your drink sales are gonna be a New Year’s Eve levels, but so are your cleanup requirements.

So I went looking for info, and found plenty at the Simulacra CD Baby page. Turns out there are neither keyboards nor guitars on this recording — it’s all clarinet. No joke — the distorted B-flat clarinet is provided by project mastermind Aaron Novik, and the distorted bass clarinet is courtesy Cornelius Boots of “Edmund Welles, the world’s only composing ensemble for bass clarinet quartet,” which I will probably have to check out. The great drumming is from Matthias Bossi (Sleepytime Gorilla Museum/Book of Knots) and the vocals are by Jesse Quattro (of heavy metal band Hammers of Misfortune and Mr. Bungle/Faith No More guitarist Trey Spruance’s Secret Chiefs 3 project).

You like everything that comes out on SST
You like everything that comes out on 4AD
You like almost everything that comes out on Homestead
I LIKE EVERYTHING THAT I GET IN THE MAIL FOR FREE!
(How ’bout that)

That stanza inspired me to become a reviewer so I could get music in the mail for free. What I didn’t know is that Sturgeon’s Law most definitely applies to what you get in the mail for free; even it’s own mother couldn’t possibly like all of it.

Anyway, I really enjoyed Great Plains’ set. They were a touch sloppy in that kinda good bar band-y way, or maybe that was just the muddiness of the mix. (Whiny aside: I really wish I liked The Middle East better, but all but a handful of shows I’ve seen there have sounded like crap, and downstairs is often uncomfortably like a sweatlodge.) Front man Ron House was in fine voice, and everyone on stage looked like they were having a good time.

It’s been bugging me that I can’t remember if I saw Big Dipper twice or just once back in the day. I know I saw them in Baltimore touring Slam (with a seismograph on stage, and Young’s “Rocking in the Free World” in the set), but I kinda think I also saw them in DC between Craps and Slam. At at least one Dipper show I know I was completely transported into the magical state of pure enjoyment. Maybe it happens to you and maybe it doesn’t, but when a band really connects with me, I stop being aware of things like what’s in (or out) of tune with what, whether the tempos are steady, how good or bad the mix is, and anything else from the analytical side of my brain. My consciousness shuts down and I just love what’s happening.

That’s a very high bar to reach, so it shouldn’t surprise me that the 2008 Dipper failed to reach it. It was great just to see Steve Michener, Jeff Oliphant, Gary Waleik, and Bill Goffrier on stage together again. They looked like they were having a blast revisiting the wondeful songs they crafted, and that’s important. Waleik seemed to be struggling a bit to hit some of the notes, but maybe he just couldn’t hear himself. I was certainly frustrated with the mix, my wonderful girlfriend and I weren’t feeling well, and we didn’t stay through the end of the night.

But if they pull a “Mission of Burma”-style return to active duty (and I hope they do), I would love to see/hear them again when they have another few shows under their belt, hopefully in a better-sounding room, and when I’ve had a chance to rein in my own unrealistic expectations a bit.

The Capstan Shafts Chick Cigarettes

I was going to say that this album is to The Capstan Shafts as Propeller was to Guided by Voices — the dodgily-recorded breakthrough early album packed with catchy songs. Well, this album may not be as good as GBV’s Propeller. But it’s pretty durn good, and despite the obvious influence of Robert Pollard on Dean Edward Wells, it’s good in a very different, uniquely Capstan Shafts-y, way.

New Grenada Parting Shots



This release does not feature the excellent song “Parting Shots” (a.k.a. the “he’s constantly thinking about what you’re thinking about him” song); they saved that for the follow up Modern Problems. But it still has brainy co-ed spiky tuneful indie goodness a-plenty in songs like “Nerd Alert” and “Just Inside a Week.” And the design is gorgeous.

The Capstan Shafts Her Versus the Sad Cold Eventually


An instant classic. Wells dramatically expands his sonic palette, and improbably comes up with a batch of songs not overshadowed by their awesome titles. There’s “He Would Die for You (Were It Up to Me),” (a murderously green-eyed, yet lovely, piano interlude) “‘Lauren Behold’ (A Conversation with a Stripper over Canadian-style Health Care),” (acoustic pop song enlivened by squally electric guitar underpinnings), and “She Can’t Stand the Quiet (Unless It’s Me Shutting Up),” (a plaintive, atonal, but oddly compelling,lament) — and 17 more.

I loved it so much I bought several copies as gifts.

1. Set up a browser (or browser profile) to delete all cookies on exit
   I like to configure Opera up for visiting unsafe sites, that way I can leave Firefox open with all the tabs I need for work.
2. Make sure it has all the latest security updates to prevent drive-by downloads
3. Close and relaunch the browser
4. Turn the speakers down!
5. Visit MySpace
6. Close the browser

I’ve been impatiently wondering when the first releases of 2008 from The Capstan Shafts would arrive, and just learned of all the goodies at http://www.myspace.com/capstanshafts. There are previews from both the new self-released EP Miles Per Famine and the upcoming Rainbow Quartz release Fixation Protocol. Also, there’s ordering info on getting gobs of the earlier and out-of-print Capstan Shafts releases directly from Dean. Big ups to Dan for giving me the heads-up.

You can also preview tracks from Ho-Ag’s imminent Doctor Cowboy at http://www.myspace.com/hoagsobject. I’m so pysched for this album. I’ve been wishing for a while that Ho-Ag would work with recording professionals who could capture the band better, and it sounds like I’ve gotten my wish. The samples from Doctor Cowboy are more vibrant than anything Ho-Ag has yet committed to plastic.

Slightly old news at this point, but Hallelujah the Hills have also raised their recording-quality bar with the Prepare to Qualify EP. It compiles the songs that have been trickling out from Stereogum and the like with some additional goodies; they’ve been re-mastered and sound super-fab.

And finally, I just stumbled on the Dirt Merchants site, from which you can download everything the band ever did, including the never-released The Speed At Which You Speak and several live sets. The only thing missing is a tip jar.