Archive for the ‘san francisco’ tag
San Francisco drone-rockers Wooden Shjips have surprised us with a bright, acoustic track (‘acoustic version’ seems inappropriate when said track contains a lengthy electric guitar solo) from their upcoming LP Back to Land. The group’s insistence on nautical reference cuts right to the heart of “These Shadows”; the song sounds appropriate for turn of the century Galapagos explorations and long sips of strong cocktails on vast, sun-drenched beaches. The collision of reverb and guitar effects with the track’s sea shanty aspects remind me of New Zealand new wave act Split Enz, but there’s something almost like a sedated Life’s Rich Pageant era R.E.M. to “These Shadows” as well.
Back to Land is out November 12 via Thrill Jockey.
Representing the current revival of garage infused psychedelic rock Kelley Stoltz has influenced much that’s recent in this 60s-yearning scene. Even though the song is about a food truck Stoltz sings with conviction about the “Kim Chee Taco Man” over a summery spread of guitars and reverb. Sharing a similar sound with Kurt Vile and The War on Drugs, “Kim Chee Taco Man”, the first single from his upcoming Double Exposure, continues on in a slightly lo-fi but altogether mellow fashion perfect for relating the joys of west coast travel and cheap but awesome eats.
Krautrock and the music of mid-sized car commercials collide on the latest cut from San Francisco garage rocker Ty Segall, the looping, mesmerizing “Music for a Film 1.” Brushing aside the conventional blues dispensations of other fuzz wizards like Jack White, Segall aims for something more eastern block and dreamlike. “Music for a Film 1″ isn’t the most innovative thing we’ve heard from Segall, but it does a good job of capturing the listener in its monumental, repetitive snare and refusing to let go.
The music of West Coast producer oOoOO is probably best described as dreary. His new EP, Our Loving Is Hurting Us, reaches again and again into a seemingly endless reservoir of melancholy, pitting washy vocals against crisp hip-hop percussion and chirping synths. At around seventy beats a minute, each of the record’s five songs are just a hair too slow to fit in with the Brainfeeder or Wedidit beat-oriented, space-glitch aesthetic; instead, oOoOO’s songs seem intent on conjuring sustained feelings of decay and dissolution. It’s the kind of music that would provide a perfectly quiet soundtrack to a car accident, or the day after a break-up when you can’t get out of bed and instead drift in and out of sleep.
Not that’s there’s nothing to speak of on OLIHU – in fact, the clackety hi-hats and pulsing drums provide quite a bit of forward momentum – just that its remarkable energy is seems to turn in on and finally consume itself. Much of each song is spent in suspended animation, alternating between activity and near-silence. On the standout “Starr,” the tension peaks in a blistering guitar solo that stretches over treble-y strings, stuttering drums, and pitched down voice. Immediately afterwards, “Break Yr Heartt” unleashes rapidfire hi-hats against vibraphones and a dreamy, auto-tuned chorus. “I didn’t mean to break your heart,” someone stutters, but they sound so far away you wonder if it even matters.