Marina seems to be having a little fun with the standard sultry gyrations of music videos, strapping on accordion-folded paper limbs in this clip for “Mowgli’s Road”. Her Geddy Lee crossed with Katy Perry vocal stylings are quite nice, and the turn for the weird around the 2:15 mark is a welcome one, but it’s hard to imagine a place for this song—it seems suitable only as the soundtrack for its own music video.
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This track from Nevada City, California-based collective, Golden Shoulders, comes from their months-old album, Get Reasonable. Among the ‘70s garage rock revival-revival and Jethro Tullian dynamic shifts on “Mountain” are some iffy lyrics: “You climb the mountain ‘cause it’s there / get a new mountain and get reasonable / you play the part so well.” The song is full of these you-me, push-pull moments, from some obnoxious perspective of authority, and fails to capitalize on a swelling, auspicious opening by the time it’s over.
Phoenix may be approaching a saturation point, what with Cadillac commercials and appearances on every late night talk show known to man, but if you have seventy-odd minutes to kill, check out Musicvision Phoenix and hear the members of the band listen to and talk about twenty songs that changed their lives.
Releasing: 30 October (limited edition vinyl) 13 October (CD / MP3)
You can already find the latest from Toronto’s Little Girls on CD and MP3, and a vinyl edition, limited to 300 copies, will come out later this month. “Growing” reminds me of an early Asobi Seksu song stripped of its lush instrumentation and Yuki Chikudate’s voice. It is pop music, for sure, but it’s the most reclusive pop music I’ve ever heard. Beneath the dreamy guitar and muffled vocals, there’s a hook.
Here’s another track Casablancas’ first solo effort, Phrazes for the Young, which comes out on November 3rd. Its madcap pacing sounds odd and hurried, its up-and-down riff is an earworm of the worst order—what is the appeal of this? This is montage music for a cut-rate evil robot assembling factory. Imagine it blaring with laughable urgency as glowing red eyes flick on and whirring motors propel the robots, single file, to their certain death at the bazooka of a musclebound movie star—a throwaway song for disposable henchmen.