I Just Read About That…

SOUNDTRACK: THE DEARS-Degeneration Street (2011).

I’ve loved The Dears for a long time now.  And yet with every new album I feel like I have to prepare myself for what’s to come.  And with every release I’m a little disappointed when I first play it.  Maybe for the next release I’ll realize what my problem is–The Dears do not stand up to cursory, casual listening.  They demand attention.  If you put them on as background music, you miss everything.  So when I finally gave Degeneration Street some attention, I realized how great it is.

The Dears write emotional songs that are fairly straightforward.  But the magic of their music comes in the layers of ideas and sounds that they put on each track.  And of course, there’s Murray Lightburn’s voice.  He sounds like Damon Albarn if Damon Albarn could sustain a note for a long time–could emote with his voice.  Now I happen to like Damon Albarn quite a lot, but Lightburn can really just out-sing him.  It’s wonderful.

“Omega Dog” opens with an electronic drumbeat, eerie keyboards and skittery guitars.  When the vocals come in–falsettoed and earnest, you don’t anticipate the full harmonies in the forthcoming chorus that lead to an almost R&B sound.  Not bad for the first 80 seconds of a song.  That the song is actually 5 minutes long and by minute 3, it sounds like an entirely different song is even more testament to the versatility of The Dears (check out the harpsichord solo that more or less ends the song).

“5 Chords” is a chugging anthem, a song with potential to be a hit (but which of course never will).  I find myself constantly singing the infectious chorus of “Blood”: “Since I was a baby I have always been this way; I could see you coming from a million miles away.”  Or the excellent chorus of “Thrones” “Plucking our eyes out, turning to stone, give up on heaven, give up the throne.”

“Lamentation” mixes things up with a slower pace and backing vocals that come straight out of Pink Floyd (any era really, but probably more of their later albums).  It adds an amazing amount of depth.  “Galactic Tides” has more Floydian stuff–the guitar solo (and the instrumental break) are really out of mid 70s Floyd–more backing vocals again).

Follow all of this intensity with the super poppy “Yesteryear”. It’s got an upbeat swing to it: happy bouncy chords and an inscrutable chorus: “What’s the word I’m looking for; It starts with ‘M’ and ends with ‘Y'”  It’s followed by the more sinister “Stick w/Me Kid,” in which Lightburn shows off his bass range.  There’s an awesome guitar riff in “Tiny Man,” simple and mournful that sticks with you long after it’s over.

The last couple of songs don’t really live up to the excitement of the first ten or so.  But the final song brings back the drama, with a swelling chorus and soaring vocals.  The Dears have managed to do it again, an emotional album that comes really close to being a concept album yet with none of the pretensions that that implies. 

[READ: July 13, 2011] Five Dials Number 16

Five Dials Number 16 is a brief Christmas Present from Five Dials.  The issue even seems longer than it is because the last ten pages are photos from the Five Dials launch party in Montreal.  The photo essay, titled In Montreal, includes local scenery and (unnamed) people photographed by ANNIKA WADDELL and SIMON PROSSER.

That leaves only 7 pages of text: The Editor’s Note, a look at London, a Christmas Poem and a short story from Anton Chekov.  And there’s another cool illustration from JULIE DOUCET

CRAIG TAYLOR-Letter from the Editor
Taylor thanks Montreal for their warm welcome (despite the crash course in what Wind Chill actually means).  He also hopes we enjoy the Christmas offerings contained within: the traditional Christmas poem and the Chekov story.

FRANCESCO PACIFICO-Our Town: London Fantascienza
Last issue they introduced the Our Town section.  This issue London is described by an Italian.  He describes Rome as a city with a lot of past but no future, whereas London is a city with a lot of past and a lot of future.  What I like about this story is the way he describes London as being out of science fiction.  There’s also an unspoken comparison between American “big bang Sci-Fi” and “proper British sci-fi” like A Clockwork Orange, 1984, V for Vendetta (the kind of sci-fi that I really like).

He then shifts to a talk about the coverage of riots by Twitter.  His editor says that a woman named #Pennyred has been tweeting the riots and that she is amazing.  He is less impressed than his boss, and quotes from her feed.  He ends with this amusing comment”

you might slightly hate the undertone of ‘Did you see the stylish kids in the riot?’ (though I for one don’t hear it).

HEATHCOTE WILLIAMS-Poem: A Traditional Christmas
I’m fond of any poem (Christmas or otherwise) that opens:

For Christmas, the Queen
Requests new nipple tassels
Then, on Boxing Day,

She sets herself up
With a portable podium
On Brighton Pier

And begins swivelling
Her sparkling accessories
To a thinning crowd.

ANTON CHEKOV-At Christmas Time
I’ve not read enough Chekov.  It’s possible I’ve not read any Chekov.  And I fear this wasn’t the best place to start.  This story has two parts.  I really enjoyed the first part.  An old couple from the country wish to send a letter to their daughter in the city whom they have not seen in four years.  The daughter had sent two letters but they had not heard from her since that second letter several years ago.  The mother had wanted to send a letter sooner, but there was no one to write it for her.  Finally she asks the brother of the innkeeper to write it for her (for 15 kopecks).

The bulk of the story is him writing the letter.  Because I don’t know enough about Russian history, I’m unclear if what he’s writing is what she wants him to write–or maybe that’s not relevant to the story.  When the letter is done, she walked the eight miles to the station to post the letter.

Part Two opens with the daughter’s husband working as a porter at a doctor’s office.  He receives the letter and delivers it home.  The daughter is very excited to receive the letter.  And as the son hears her excitement he remembers back to a letter that she had asked him to send.

And it’s super poignant.

But then there’s a final two paragraphs which I simply didn’t get.  I even translated the French “Charcot douche,” but it didn’t really help.  So, if anyone wants to open my ignorant eyes, please do. Aside from that little ending though, the story was great–everything I’d expect from Chekov.

PETER McDONALD-Painting: Over There.
This is a mesmerizing painting.  I don’t really like it but I can’t stop looking at it.

And here’s the official announcement about the release of the issue.