Indie Music Chatter

Call me a scheming dad but I take a very serious interest in how my son will develop his music taste. My wife loves to tell people that one of my biggest fears is that Zach will grow up liking the kind of trash that bombards almost all radio stations. I’ve been labelled a music snob but I really don’t care about the name calling. All of the insults are worth it if I can ensure that my son will grow up with a sophisticated ear and an inherent love for music that really counts. No Britneys or Rihannas for me and my son, thank you.

One way that I am laying the foundation of his early music education is by playing him lullabies when he’s asleep. But forget the tired Sesame Street or Barney lullabies, I’m into something a little less mainstream.

In my lullaby arsenal are the three albums of Lullatone. Over the course of four albums, Lullatone has managed to maintain an almost child like simplicity and beauty to its music but anchored on really heavy concepts. For example, while the first two albums dealt with sine wave harmonics in order to create deceptively simple soundscapes, Little Songs about Raindrops saw the band use toy instruments exclusively in creating an album that is beautiful beyond belief.

If you have children, please do them a favor and just use Lullatone’s albums as an early music education for your children. Believe me, you’ll thank me for it in the future.

I just came back from the record store after having scored two albums by The Cure. I’ve been collecting the band’s Deluxe Edition reprintings of their old albums. These are remastered versions of their seminal early releases with an accompanying second CD filled with rareties as well as an exhaustive booklet that chronicles the band at the time of recording the said album.

These Deluxe Editions are a bit pricey but then I tell myself that I’m actually buying a piece of music history, a time capsule of where The Cure was at creatively during that particular point in their existence as one of the most promising post punk bands to emerge from England in the late 70’s - early 80’s.

So far, I’ve practically bought the whole catalogue. I just bought The Top and Seventeen Seconds today, which just leaves me with Faith (which was not in stock) and The Glove’s Blue Sunshine (a one-off music project/collaboration of Robert Smith and Siouxsie and The Banshees, Steve Severin). Consider me a happy camper today, especially when I almost reverently slipped those two albums among the four other Cure Deluxe Editions that I already have.

My collection of The Cure albums will never be complete though until I find a copy (long out of print) of Tributo a the Cure: Porque No Puedo Ser Tu. This is a collection of classic Cure songs as interpreted by Latin artists. Let me stress this: these are not just a bunch of covers but rather a reworking or reinterpretation of Cure songs. And to top it off, it’s sung in Spanish. I fell in love with this album when I chanced upon an MP3 rip in one site I visited. I’ve been looking for a copy of this album ever since. If you’ve got a lead on where I can get do email me and I’ll be forever indebted.

One album that I have been recommending to friends over the last few weeks is The Klaxons‘ Myths of the Future. This is one of those rare albums where, when you listen to it, you know that the boundaries of music is being challenged again.
When I first heard Gravity’s Rainbow and Golden Skans, I immediately knew that The Klaxons are attempting to come out with a new music hybrid that aims to meld different music genres into a new, as yet unseen, form. I knew that I was at the cusp of some great shift in the world of music and the trio from London is at the center of it all. Forget what you may hear about this so called New Rave movement the Klaxons are supposed to be spearheading. Get rid of the labels and just enjoy their music — one of the funkiest and coolest sounds you will hear in 2007.

The Klaxons, London, New Rave

I’ve been a big fan of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club since day one and have been a willing passenger in their awesome music journey. The first two albums – BRMC and Take Them On, On Your Own – established the band’s sonic template of 70’s garage rock melded with the psychedelic rock and noise of The Jesus and Mary Chain.

What really threw fans for a loop was the release of Howl, their third album. The band effectively left the bombast of the first two albums and came out with an album that can best be described as blues and folk with rock overtones. There were some fans who actually hated the album. As for me, I completely loved it. This is the kind of courage and self confidence that I look for in artists. They are not afraid to alienate an established fanbase. They make music for music’s sake, which is a true mark of the indie attitude.

With Baby 81, BRMC has returned to their more familiar rock sound but this time, they have rounded it out with the experimentations they made in Howl. This makes for a far more satisfying record for me. Baby 81 offers a more mature sound that fully encompasses what the band sonically represents.

The lead off track Took Out a Loan is like a comforting tap on the shoulder for fans who were left with their jaws hanging when they popped their Howl CDs on their players. It was a reassuring “Hey, we’re back to rock your socks off!” But alongside the rockers, BRMC has deftly included Howl-like blues/folk/hybrids like 666 Conductor. Of course, the band also put in some surprising inclusions like the 9 minute epic American X that is so full of power and swagger you won’t notice the track time.

Overall, Baby 81 is another notable effort from Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. They are now 4 - 0 in delivering a quality release. I hope this streak continues because they are one of the few American rock bands out there that still hasn’t lost the real essence of rock.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Baby 81, Howl