I enjoy going back to Khanate after a long period of not listening to them. Obviously there’s nothing that’ll re-create the ridonkulous feeling of listening to the first album or Things Viral that first time. It actually gave me faith in music — it’s hard to think you’ve heard everything when something that scary crops up.
If I could give up a small and insignificant body part to either write Alan Dubin’s lyrics or sing like him, I’m not sure which I’d choose.
now we’re here. pieces of us in my hands, on the floor, in my pockets.
my god, the smiles, the sneezes, the talking… we’re in that place again.
we’re gone, erased again.
no good times in here.
That’s pretty sweet, but it’s the throat-splitting, vomit-inducing delivery that really makes it.
Yeah, I feel you, Michael Gira put another “freak folk” thing out. The man may have gotten a taste of dollars with Devendra, but face it: Banhart wouldn’t have seemed very cool to just anyone, so I very much doubt that he’s trying to ride the wave. More like he’s just plain into this shit.
But sometimes, you don’t have to strain to see why.
Unlike the other recent catch for Young God, Fire on Fire (who play on this record), Larkin Grimm sounds like something different, even as nicely as she fits into the Gira canon. Akron/Family may envelop you in a cult-like all-encompassing hippie blanket, but Grimm is much like her name. The melodies are solid, and the construction and production won’t be any surprise to fans of the 21st-century incarnation of Gira, but the vibe is strange. Her feminist/post-feminist screeds aren’t really angry and they’re certainly not Kathleen Hanna material, nor are songs like “Anger in your Liver” as hippie as you might think. She’s just real, which makes her a million years removed from the spaced-out A/F but still magically appropriate for Young God.
Don’t mistake Real for gritty — she changes vocal style often and some of the more Banhart-y styles may be off putting to some, but overall there’s the kind of homey feel that MG seems to love to project. And that I love to listen to. Don’t mistake Real for “singer-songwritery” either. There’s an immediacy to the tunes that rambling coffee-shoppers can’t seem to grasp, and a willingness to do what has to be done — whether it’s repeating, whistling, banging on stuff. Gira tastefully lends polish to all this without sounding intrusive or “produced.”
I put this on again immediately after hearing the first time.
According to Keith Scott, who was employed at Federal Studios in the fifties and sixties, “Between 1962 and 1966 Lloyd Knibbs was the dominant drummer-he played on over 90 percent of the records.
No wonder Ma thought all those ska records sounded the same. From a history of the Skatalites.
It’s rare that a band who are such “thinkers,” who take such an obviously intellectual approach to their sound, can make a genuine and inspirational reecord. It’s far more upbeat than their previous stuff, and I guess that’s why it doesn’t sound much like a bunch of brainiacs making NYC music. Is it as good? I don’t know, I think maybe TVOTR records are like Star Trek movies — except the odd-numbered ones are better, and nothing is outright bad.
Les Savy Fav will always be one of my favorite live bands. Unfortunately, this live album isn’t really much better than Pretty Good. Recording is good quality, doesn’t sound real raw but there is plenty of crowd noise, including the singalong on “Who Rocks the Body.”
The last quarter of the album is covers: CCR’s “Hey Tonight,” “Debaser,” “Astro Zombies,” Nirvana’s “Sliver,” a couple others.
I ended up just going back to the studio albums. Without the menace of Cat and the Cobra, without the balls-out energy of actually being there, I dunno if this record is worth it.
Apparently, this band is somewhat related to Dog Faced Hermans. They even shout out in a roundabout way on “Long Faced Germans.” No angular Ex-style art-punk here, though. It’s artsy, a bit, but mostly it’s noisy. More elastic than than spazzy, but it’s textural. Tempos aren’t fast but drums aren’t 4-on-the-floor and they make it seem faster.
The vocals are unhinged. Flip my shit out. This album goes well with caffeine and with beer. Or whiskey.
Consider it a precursor to art-grind bands like Arab on Radar, AIDS Wolf, and Lightning Bolt (pre-hippiness), and it gets even better.
Grab it and smash some shit up.
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