Bob Duvet Investigates What Inspires A Man? Or, Music Is In The Ear Of The Beholder.

“What inspires a man?” Bob wondered, as he drove the nail through the plywood he had placed horizontally across his front door. “There, that oughta do it.” He thought, pleased with himself. Inspiration should always begin with, “keeping the wolves at bay” and he had done a piss poor job of that lately. Worse still the wolves he heard howling at his door were more like domesticated Dingos, hardly wolves at all anymore. Just some trace elements left in a DNA code that had been bred out by the constant encroachment of humanity. “AH! Humane society, indeed!” he spoke as one might having reached an epiphany, then realizing there was no one there to share it with. He moved away from the doorway to survey his work, admire the construction and ponder the placement of the next wooden slab. On the carpet below his feet sat an empty glass that still breathed the faint remnants of charcoal and peet. Raising a hammer and methodically orienting a nail he penetrated the wood emitting a ricochet clap. The faded and slightly rusted coffee tin holding the nails rattled in time with the blow. “I’m making music again” a smile creeping across its authors face. SLAP! This one a bit more piercing, with less reverb, but just as tuneful, again the nails lent their shimmer. The hall echoed with the clang of hardened steel softening against the wood tuned with paint. Some inspirations require a little blunt force, Bob thought as he once again raised the hammer next to his ear. The crack of the hammerhead greeting the galvanized surface of the nailhead shook through the corridor. As the soundwaves faded into silence, Bob took a step back. He viewed the asymmetrical wood planks crisscrossing the entryway into his apartment, turned and began walking down the hall into the kitchen. No longer inspired he, he sat down in his chair, laced his fingers together and stared blankly at his computer screen. That wonderful song still playing in his ears.

The Swedes In A Visual Nutshell: Curated By A Non-Swede...

Sweden may be a country few that read this blog truly know about and I am one of you...What I do know is that their music is as inventive and diverse as anywhere on the planet!  From ABBA's POP to the classical METAL of Yngwie Malsteem, I had relegated Swedish culture to the freezer to be thawed out and devoured at a later date. That later date hath arrived!  Now, you can't go anywhere without seeing someone reading the "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" by Stieg Larrson.  It's the land that brought the world Ingmar Bergman, Bjorn Borg and one of my favorite Muppets, "The Swedish Chef". So like the great salmon the Swedes are known for, swim up the mainstream toward the Midnight Sun!  The videos below serve as supplemental material to the "What Duvet Said...About Music" Issue 8: "The Cure For Stockholm Syndrome?  Less ABBA: Duvet Looks at the Music of Sweden in This SUPER-SIZED Edition!".

Be In This Woman's Dreams...Click on Link to Learn More!

Singer/Songwriter and Actress Alicia Witt sits down with us to discuss music, songwriting, the darker side of Paul Simon, and so much more!

"It's always been my dream to play my songs in front of people."

This Month's Featured Review: Crystal Antlers EP

Recently signed to seminal indie label Touch and Go; Long Beach’s Crystal Antlers might be poised to break out in ‘09. Their October 7th self-titled EP release is a tightly wound experiment in melding no wave, hardcore, and psychedelia. Producer Ikie Owens (keyboardist for the Mars Volta) gives these songs lots echoey vim by mixing the cacophonous angst of Sonic Youth, the swirling art-rock of Jane’s Addiction, Black Flag’s harrowing intensity and the addled danger of 13th Floor Elevators.

Crystal Antlers is a maelstrom of feedback, strangled vocals and orchestrated chaos. Jonny Bell’s vocals growl and shriek through any number of effects and filters, which dissipate into the overall mix. His delivery is all fire and brimstone, belying a more melodic tone he only hints at occasionally on this record. Opener “Until the Sun Dies: Part 2” showcases some vocal range, allowing for a more dynamic soundscape. The best songs on the EP, like the seven minute “Parting Song For the Torn Sky”, allow the organs to create a sonic expanse. Drummer Kevin Stuart’s artful use of half-time signatures on a couple of the tracks reveals some jazz chops. A nice twist to Crystal Antlers sound is the added percussion delivered by Damian Edwards. His contribution to the mayhem provides some interesting texture to the songs. The EP can best be encapsulated as a frenzied freak out with artistic pretensions. Often the best riffs on the Crystal Antlers EP get cut off right at the point of being established. Andrew King’s guitar work anchors the sound firmly in the psych-rock realm. But unlike other guitar players in this genre he shies away from embracing the riff. This can be frustrating for the listener; it seems reactionary, as if this is what injects the “art” into the compositions. The mosaic created by the Crystal Antlers is a composite of shards of glass sharp enough to cut you, held in place by cement rough enough to scrape you. It will be interesting to watch which, if any, of the rough edges will be smoothed out on an upcoming full-length release.

Crystal Antlers have emerged out of the LA art collective The Smell - a club/art space of renown in Downtown LA - along with contemporaries No Age and Abe Vigoda. All these bands share a similar aesthetic, a kind of disjointed and angular approach to songwriting. These bands seem to suffer from musical ADD. A typical example of this is on the track “Vexation”, a punishing bombardment of pulverizing drums and blaring organs. But in service of what? The song blasts out of the speakers like a shotgun, but like a shotgun it sprays pellets everywhere with little or no accuracy. This is a fine effect maybe but not compelling enough to revisit on song after song. The upside for the Crystal Antlers is that there is no shortage of musical ideas on this EP. The question becomes will they have the patience and restraint to explore some of those ideas at length?

This Month's E-Music Acquisitions...

John Coltrane “Lush Life”Re-Mastered

Two words best to describe John Coltrane's 1958 "Lush Life", casual elegance. This newly remastered release on the Prestige label is perfect for an autumn night and a well-mixed cocktail. Coltrane's playing is contemplative and restrained, while still harboring the questing spirituality he would soon begin exploring in subsequent recordings. The absence of a piano player on the first three tracks clears the way for Trane's emotive runs. Tone, pure and bluesy, is the focus on "Lush Life". The last two tracks feature the addition of Red Garland on piano and Donald Byrd on trumpet. At close to 15 minutes the title track hints at some of the more adventurous playing Coltrane would be known for. But this record finds him contented, in all his nuanced glory.

Flying Lotus “1983”

After reading a lot of the hype surrounding the recent release of Flying Lotus’ (aka Steven Ellison) “Los Angeles”, I decided to go back to his 2006 recording “1983” as a primer. Flying Lotus’ music is comprised of bleeps, glitches, and fuzz, most seemingly generated from a Casio keyboard circa 1983. His inspiration seems to be divined as much from Atari 2600 as Aphex Twin. While the “skip beat’ stagger of most of the tracks give Flying Lotus a signature sound, it feels like ambient wallpaper. There is nothing very compelling about “1983”. Comparisons to J-Dilla seem unwarranted other than both are lo-fi aficionados. “1983” would be better suited to background music in a trendy wine bar than a club. In the sub-genre obsessed universe of electronica, Flying Lotus may be an Indie darling but to these ears there is little to celebrate.

The Last Shadow Puppets “The Age of the Understatement”

This collaboration between the Arctic Monkey’s Alex Turner and the Rascals’ Miles Kane really delivers on the promise of both of these songwriters. Many reviewers cite David Bowie as a key influence on “The Age of the Understatement” but I would offer Ennio Morricone, LA psychedelic band Love, Britain’s The Coral and the sounds coming out of swingin’ London in mid 1960’s, as the guiding lights for this recording. Vocally, these two front men sound perfect together. In fact, I hadn’t realized how good a voice Turner was in possession of, inflecting more melody into these songs than is evidenced in his work with the Arctic Monkeys. The acerbic wit both songwriters are known for is still there but some of the sting is masked by the ornate orchestrations and galloping tempos. “Standing Next To Me” would fit nicely on Love’s Forever Changes and “Calm Like You” might have Tom Jones considering another comeback attempt.

Animal Collective “Strawberry Jam”

What do you get when you place Brian Wilson, Philip Glass, and Dan Deacon in a blender and push puree? You might get Baltimore transplants now residing in Brooklyn, Animal Collective. Last year’s release “Strawberry Jam” is one of the most confounding and brilliant examples of laptop rock. Critical darlings to be sure and worth the accolades, main songwriting forces Panda Bear and Avey Tare craft layered, inventive, joyous whimsy. Animal Collective reference “Smile” era Brian Wilson, celebrating the druggy glory, they offer an alternative universe for those voices in his head. The variegated playground these musicians inhabit is a feast for the ears. Soaring harmonies mix with world music influences, which are then left to swim up the bit rate stream. The songs on “Strawberry Jam” begin as innocent experimentation, quickly escalate into addiction, have you finding God and then relapsing back into the magical world of Animal Collective.

Shudder To Think “Funeral At The Movies/Ten Spot”

This combined release of 1990’s “Ten Spot” and 1991’s “Funeral At The Movies” on Discord (Minor Threat, Fugazi, Rites of Spring) is a nice indoctrination into Shudder To Think’s divergent art-punk. Never really in step with the rest of the Discord catalogue, these first records turn on singer Craig Wedren’s soaring, psuedo-falsetto. The tracks on both recordings point to the triumphs that would be captured on 1994’s “Pony Express Record”. Future guitarist and songwriting force Nathan Larsen would join Shudder after these releases, forging the unique and supremely creative partnership with Wedren. The two would solidify the symbiosis that would bridge metal, art-rock, and indie-rock. Always inventive, this recording is ground zero for those looking to discover the creative genesis for this one-of-a-kind rock band.

Cold War Kids “Loyalty to Loyalty”

There has already been a ton of press surrounding Cold War Kids sophomore offering “Loyalty to Loyalty”. Most reviews are looking to draw blood on a band that received so much hype after 2006’s “Robbers & Cowards”. The backlash seems totally undeserved and reactionary. This record is much darker sonically-as most second records tend to be- revealing a band that is serious about being taken serious. “Loyalty to Loyalty” bears repeated listening to get at the core of CWK’s malcontent. The production is reverb heavy with the guitars taking prominence. They have an almost Hawaiian sheen to them, locking in with the bass in syncopated rhythmic stutters. Nathan Willet’s vocals are soulful in a Jeff Buckley way and really are the centerpiece of Cold War Kids sound. This is a band that is still in the process of refining their sound but unlike many other bands they have their own sound to refine.

Rebirth Brass Band breathe life into North Beach at Mojito on 6/15/08

As I descended down Grant Ave from Telegraph Hill, I could see the nighttime skyline shrouded in fog. The clamor earlier in the day comprised of the odd mingling of muffled music from Washington Square Park and the hollered enthusiasm of twenty-something’s hosting parties in apartments through out North Beach. Gone were the thousands, who just hours before, were weaving their way through the North Beach Fair below. It was Sunday night and save for the walking dead gathered in front of the now tomb-like clubs on Grant Ave, there was a pall in the air. The North Beach Fair was dead, at least for another year. So it was only fitting that the remaining diehards still celebrating should have a proper send off.

New Orleans' Rebirth Brass Band led the second line from inside Mojito. Billed as "secret show" by Sunset Promotions, whose president is owner and booker for Mojito, capped the previous two night's sold out performances at SF's The Independent. The Rebirth Brass Band spelled the death shudder of the North Beach Fair, replacing it with a life-affirming hybrid of jazz, funk, and soul. The nine piece brass and acoustic drum ensemble tore through a 2hr plus show.

Tuba player Philip Frazier founded rebirth in 1982 along with his brother Keith Frazier and others from the New Orleans neighborhood of Treme. That same year they would play the New Orleans Jazz Festival and would emerge as one of the (along with the Dirty Dozen Brass Band) preeminent practitioners of a style of music called "second line". Second line has its origins in New Orleans’s funeral processions, where the dead are celebrated in music and dance as the procession makes it way through the streets. Sunday night's show at Mojito was a perfect venue for a band that still plays a regular Tuesday night gig at a similar size venue in New Orleans, the Maple Leaf Bar.

Rebirth Brass Band's sound can best be described as joyous. The aural bouillabaisse is at once reminiscent of James Brown, Louis Armstrong, Miles Davis,and Nas. There are elements of Hip-Hop in Rebirth's sound but more in a periphery nod. This is "Roots" music that grows deep in Bayou Country. Frazier's tuba playing teamed with Derek "Big Sexy" Tabb's dexterous snare work make it impossible to stand still. The horn section weaves Dixieland melodies and free jazz, coalescing into tight Parliamentesque staccato punctuations. Rebirth Brass Band are clearly adept at throwing a party and do so by example. The end result is an undeniably infectious groove.

Initially, it looked like this "funeral" might be poorly attended. But by the middle of their first song, the audience had filed in off the street, gathering in tight around the band. Judging from some of the "dancing" on display several exorcisms were taking place simultaneously. An inventive re-working of Fats Domino's "I'm Walking" sent the audience into a frenzy. As I waited in line to use the bathroom (where even there, dancing was mandatory), a "relieved" attendee crouch skipped up to me. "This is what New Orleans sounds like!” he shouted, continuing his slouch dance and disappearing in to the crowd. I left Mojito with the trumpet blare now fading in the fog. The neighborhood that seemed to have flat lined on my descent, was now pulsing once again.