Highlights of what’s been running through the speakers here at OUTLANDOS HQ the last month or so:
1. The Kissaway Trail, Sleep Mountain
Danish outfit, very Death Cab for Cutie. Honestly, the jury is still out but so far, thumbs up; meaning, I didn’t reach over to shut it off once through the first listen — and that’s saying something 
. I also did reach over to turn it up a couple of times, most notably for “New Lipstick” and the cover of Neil Young’s “Philadelphia.” Summary: take a risk.
2. David Chernis, Music for Super 8
Sure, sure… I might be biased. But this is beautiful. The guitar-balls behind the original Damnwells‘ lineup releases his first solo project, a complete 180. Instrumental. Restrained. Surprising. Eclectic. Enjoy.
3. Chris Trapper, Into the Bright Lights
Lead singer of The Push Stars out with a solo EP, getting back to that Push Stars pop sound I love so much after diverting a bit. Gorgeous.
7/25/10 | Comments (0)Tags: Chris Trapper, David Chernis, Kissaway Trail, NOW PLAYING, The Damnwells, The Push Stars —
Hey there! Off we go with another edition of IN SHORT, our monthly cornucopia of stuff — sometimes music stuff, sometimes not. This month’s theme: Laugh Your Ass Off (and Perhaps Squirm a Little). Enjoy.
1. Double Rainbow!
I found myself watching this, thinking, why am I watching this? This is stupid. Then: this is awesome. Then: this is stupid. Then: god dammit, this is really awesome. Trust me. Now, of course, I’m dying to have one of these. Full. On.
2. Yankee Prankee
It’s painful. But you have to watch this one to enjoy the next one. Admittedly, Amir is kind of a dick.
3. Million Dollar Shot
Streeter gets his revenge. And it’s beautiful…
xo
7/19/10 | Comments (0)Here we go with another edition of LETTERS FROM THE ROAD, our guest post series where we invite musicians we love love love to take over and write whatever they like. 2 rules: it has to be in the form of a letter, it has to have something to do with music. This week featuring Daniel Tashian, lead singer of The Silver Seas, literally my favorite band in the world ( next to The Police). I’m totally serious. We featured them like gangbusters on the DAILY DOSE a few months back. Perhaps that’s because I’m a shameless superfan. You think?
FYI, the new record, Château Revenge, drops today.
Take it away Daniel…
Dear Bob Marley,
Well you’ve been gone for a while.
I heard you used to get your news from the radio — you and your homeboys in soccer shoes, huddled around a Jamaican transistor, listening to the BBC world service, strains of R & B from New Orleans.
I don’t know why that matters to me — I guess because I don’t watch much TV (the bullshit hype of CNN adds more static to the overcrowded airwaves now). But brother, there’s a lot of stuff you would dig:
• The Wire; you would like some of the technology.
• Sampling; you would probably do something really cool with it, sample some oppositional politician and make a song out of him.
• The Black Eyed Peas; I think you would dig them.
I remember seeing a photo of you (I think it was in South Africa) bringing white and black leaders together on stage, makin’ ‘em shake hands. I don’t think, in the end, it really did all you hoped it would but shit, you knew that. But the thing it DID do was to let everybody see that strange things happen. Me, I’m like a little lion cub…tugging on your mane. You are a big, beautiful, stately creature. There’s no comparison, I’m not even in the same profession as you, in a way.
But one thing we do share is we both like love songs. The pop stuff, when everybody said you “sold out” (Could You Be Loved, Satisfy My Soul, Waiting In Vain). That’s fantastic music. And, it’s where the Marvin Gaye creeps in. The Romantic Lion. I don’t know, maybe you prefer Duppy Conqueror and I would understand.
But I think we need somebody. The world is probably no more crazy now than it was then but it seems like it is. But there’s nobody like you, to cut through the static. There’s a bunch of cubs but not many lions. Well, maybe Bono. Everybody’s got to make a living I guess. Plus, you know, now, the emphasis is more on the party. At least as far as I can tell. There’s this chick called Ke$ha, and her songs are about getting fucked up and giving guys head. She’s real popular. Lady GaGa is kind of a “performance” artist. Sort of like Fame on steroids. Seems to be building a mythology — “GaGa-ism” — but what’s at the core of it? A “don’t be afraid to dream big” kind of message maybe.
Well. I guess I should let you go. I miss you. I heard you got real serious before you died. Real quiet and didn’t want to talk to anyone much. I get that. And I hate hospitals too.
Main thing is, there’s never been anybody that had it all like that before… Soul, Politics, Rock, Jazz, Funk. Maybe Femi Kuti, nowadays, but he’s not as good a singer as you were. Well I guess we just got to keep going. I mean what are the options? I didn’t write you to bitch, that’s boring. I guess, I’m just conscious of the fact that I feel the emptiness sometimes. And I want to hear that battle cry, that roar for peace in the jungle. I bet you had a lot of anger. I’m sure of it and who could blame you? You used it as an energy, though. I guess your candle still burns. It still inspires, and lights the way. Problem is, nobody wants to go down that path because you were so fucking great.
“Who do I think I am?” Well. I’ll try not to be intimidated by your massive paw prints. I put my paw inside it and realize I could put twenty of mine in one of yours. But at least I’m here. Peace be with you wherever you are. Soul brother, big brother.
Love,
Daniel
www.thesilverseas.net
Typical Zippity Doo Dah morning here in what we like to think of as our upstate, modern Mayberry — blue skies, warm breeze, birds singing — the whole bit.
Then: “I fucking hate you. I’m going to fucking kill you,” a woman shouts from across the street. At her four-year-old little girl. Sadly, also typical; these are our neighbors.
And, also typically, I’m conflicted about a response. Say nothing? Keep walking? Or, what I really want to do: call the bitch out.
As a 36-year-old entrepreneur, I’m confident in one thing: I don’t want to be that woman, I don’t want to create little monsters — obviously, literally, but speaking figuratively — think “output;” not only work achieved but energy expelled. I want to create value. And honestly, anything less than, even if justified, is so much harder.
Let’s assume that the whole “do unto others” thing is a given. And instead, focus on the effect that negative “output” has on you. You know… stress.
The last thing I heard this woman say?
My blood pressure is through the roof!
Duh.
And, not surprisingly, so was mine — or at least it felt that way. Which is why I took the lame road and instead, wrote this post.
6/21/10 | Comments (0)You guessed it, another edition of LETTERS FROM THE ROAD, our guest post series where we invite musicians we are FREAKING nuts about to take over and write whatever they like. 2 rules: it has to be in the form of a letter, it has to have something to do with music. Introducing my new sonic crush, Leo Blais, Buy everything he’s ever made… seriously. FYI, we featured him on THE DAILY DOSE not too long ago
Dear vocal cords,
I wanted to write you and say how disappointed I am with you and how you let me down during my performance of ‘O Holy Night’ during the Christmas Mass when I was 12. I practiced my ass off the whole month leading up to it and you failed me! Not to mention, you teased me with your beautiful sounds of song and then, unlike most kids on Christmas, you took back your gift and left me with no vocal cords at all.
I was alone. I was confused. Shaken. We tried everything to coax you back. I even made your favorite, but even tea and lemon juice couldn’t stop this train wreck of a rendition. My little brother had the 1st verse and nailed it like a champ. You, on the other hand, hit the high register like Don Flamenco taunting Little Mac in Mike Tyson’s punch out.
Lets just say, you were not up to snuff.
I liken you to a deadbeat vocal cord. You promise to be there and then you never show up. I don’t know why you decided to take the day off, which led to 4 years of not trusting you whatsoever. You let me down so badly that day. I was no longer recognized as the kid who delivers newspapers in the neighborhood. I was that kid who ruined ‘O Holy Night!’ That kid who didn’t know when to quit. That kid who probably should have let his brother sing for him.
They didn’t know that you had changed on me. How could they know? There were moments when I thought about giving you the opportunity to explain the situation to people. I wanted you to tell them. However, you’d probably just let me down again and not even show up.
You did come back to me though. But I’ll never forgive you for that day. Never. At least this note gives me some form of satisfaction. There’s a healing in doing this. Besides, whenever I try to tell people you never cooperate. You always bail on me in protest again, which exactly why I can’t trust you to tell the story. I just wouldn’t be able to get a word out.
Vocally yours,
Leo Blais
http://www.leoblais.com/
Tags: Christmas, Leo Blais, LETTERS FROM THE ROAD —
