• SleeperSound: in medias res

    SleeperSound’s lush yet disconcerting soundscape was forged by Dave D’Antonio, a Milwaukee-by-way-of-Chicago vocalist, guitarist and keyboardist, “to invoke the desire to awaken ourselves gradually and ajar from existential slumbers that make us aloof to each other and our world.” That’s according to press materials for in medias res, the new six-song album that follows the 2016 Milwaukee-based quartet’s Pilots | Passengers | Portals EP. Listening to this 32-minute excursion into the deeper reaches of dreamy post-rock and experimental prog, you might be tempted to draw comparisons to Television and Mission of Burma, but SleeperSound scores on its own merits. From the muted-pop of opener “Give to Time” to “Gravity Well” (a sweet-sounding plea for immortality punctuated by simple guitars and an Italian couplet) to the death-is-inevitable haunting finale “Error Tape,” in medias resmaintains a melancholic steadfastness that will leave attentive listeners transfixed — and slightly scarred.

    via Michaeo Popke


  • REVIEWS!!!!!

    Graded on a Curve: 
    Les Paul and His Trio, After You’ve Gone, Dave Brubeck, Time In, Hank Jones, Arigato, Shirley Horn, Softly

    If you’re in the market for jazz reissues on wax, ORG Music is a consistent resource, and the pickings are especially ripe right now, as they have a stylistically varied batch of material fresh out spanning the 1940s to the ’80s, specifically After You’ve Gone from Les Paul and His Trio, Time In from Dave Brubeck, Arigato from Hank Jones, and Softly from Shirley Horn. Listeners wanting to stretch out beyond the canonical rudiments will find much to love here, for the sounds are more than satisfactory, but novice ears shouldn’t feel intimidated, as the contents are highly approachable all around. The Jones is available now, the Brubeck is out November 2, and the Paul and Horn arrive the following Friday.

    It’s nice that the folks at ORG are fortifying the jazz racks with material beyond the must-haves from the Blue Note, Prestige, Impulse, and Atlantic labels, although a glance at the noteworthy artists included in the roundup could lead to the conclusion that they aren’t digging all that deep. Take Les Paul, for instance; a read of the guy’s biography shapes him up as a recording industry giant, with a dominant early ’50s pop chart run in tandem with his wife, the vocalist Mary Ford, and an enduring rep as a guitar builder, studio innovator and a technical master on his instrument.

    He’s also known for diversity of genre. Amongst his early credits, he backed blues singer Georgie White, recorded C&W as Rhubarb Red, and dished out Hawaiian songs, so his aptitude for jazz, while no secret, often doesn’t get the spotlight it deserves. To an extent this scenario is similar to that of Nat King Cole, whose stature as a pop singer continues to overshadow his killer ’40s piano trio; underlining this comparison is Paul’s early career highlight subbing for Oscar Moore with Cole and others as part of the inaugural Jazz at the Philharmonic concert.

    That show went down on July 2, 1944 in Los Angeles, and the sessions for After You’ve Gone were made for the World Broadcasting Company across September, October, and December of the same year and into January and February of ’45. Like Cole’s group, Paul’s eschewed a drummer, instead featuring Clinton Nordquist on bass, Cal Goodin on rhythm guitar, and either Milt Raskin or Buddy Cole on piano; unlike Cole’s group, Paul’s was a trio plus one.

    Right from the outset on his original composition “Feed Back,” the guitarist isn’t a bit shy over flaunting his skills, though as the 2LP unwinds it’s not like he throws nuance out the window. A couple more songs by Paul are included, but the vast majority are pop and jazz repertoire, from “I Ain’t Got Nobody” to “Blues Skies” to “Stompin’ at the Savoy” to “Honeysuckle Rose” to “Sleepy Time Gal,” and while the band gets their jazzy licks in (everybody’s sharp), they consistently stay focused on the tunes.

    Although there’s an occasional string quaver hinting at Paul’s Hawaiian proclivities, overall, they stick to the jazz course, with the influence of Django Reinhardt tangible but far from overwhelming. It’s true that these recordings weren’t intended to be listened to in a 28-track lump (of course, the beauty of the wax is that they can be taken a side at a time), but they manage to keep repetitiveness largely at bay, with the whole going down as easy on the fifth spin as it does on the first. Bottom line is that it’s doubtful another Paul comp if this vintage, breadth, and stylistic cohesion will appear on vinyl any time soon.

    Dave Brubeck is easily as well-known as Paul, and likely more so; indeed, there was a period when the pianist was one of the three or four most recognized names in jazz (after Louis Armstrong, he was the second jazzman to make the cover of Time). That kind of popularity could breed resentment, but it’s all a long time ago now. Time In, released in 1966 as the last entry in the Brubeck Quartet’s “Time” series, is maybe the least high-profile of the bunch (the first, Time Out from ’59, set things in motion with a smash). Out of print on vinyl for roughly a half-century, Time In is more than worthy of reissue.

    One of sweetest curveballs in Brubeck’s career is his duet with bassist Charles Mingus in Basil Dearden’s 1962 film All Night Long, a seemingly odd pairing that turns out to be superb. Since soaking it up I’ve entertained the notion that Brubeck would’ve fit into Mingus’ band quite effectively. As good as Horace Parlan or Jaki Byard? Of course not, though please listen to his playing on the title-track to this LP before dismissing my theory as claptrap or heresy.

    I guess my speculation is in part due to Brubeck’s distinctive block chord approach, which was sometimes derided as lacking the lightness, fleetness, and general finesse found in the work of many of his contemporaries. But particularly in rapport with the sturdiness of his longtime bassist Eugene Wright, Brubeck was consistently tied to jazz’s rudiments; check out Time In’s “Travellin’ Blues,” the Wright showcase “Rude Old Man,” and the sweetly bluesy “Who Said That?” for evidence.

    Unusual meters and classical touches (e.g. Time In’s opener “Lost Waltz”) aside, Brubeck was often lumped into the West Coast Cool school. The sound of altoist Paul Desmond was a big part of why. Drummer Joe Morello, always on time but expressive, completes one of jazz’s most famous groups, and he gets a spotlight of his own with the splendid finale “Watusi Drums.” But perhaps the most remarking thing about Time In lies how everyone connects as completely engaged.

    To riff a little on Mingus’ thoughts on Brubeck, the man’s music swings (and endures beyond what some will consider an antiquated term) because he sincerely loved what he was doing. There’s an abundance of that feeling on Time In, with the same joie de vivre suffused in the grooves of fellow pianist Hank Jones’ Arigato, originally issued in ’76 by the Progressive label.

    Again, Jones is far from an underheard figure; indeed, anybody who knows Cannonball Adderley’s ’58 masterpiece Something Else has soaked up his considerable talents, though that LP’s stature shouldn’t overshadow a major batch of additional sideman dates (with such names as Lester Young, Donald Byrd, Milt Jackson, Sonny Stitt, Curtis Fuller, Paul Chambers, Art Farmer and more) from the same era or his run of leadership sessions for Savoy (which includes the excellent The Trio with bassist Wendell Marshall and drummer Kenny “Klook” Clarke, plus the rewarding solo date Have You Met Hank Jones).

    Jones kinda dropped out of the main thrust of jazz happenings in the 1960s, which isn’t the same as not working; to the contrary, he was the house pianist for CBS studios. And he did record a fair amount, though as a leader the results were largely at cross purposes (Broadway musical interpretations, ragtime played on a cheap kitschy piano and electric harpsichord) to what makes his music so special.

    A return to the jazz thick of things came in the mid-’70s via the Great Jazz Trio (the early version completed with drummer Tony Williams and bassist Ron Carter, though Buster Williams was the bassist on the group’s first recording), and it can seem at a casual glance like a comeback, but nah. Instead, it was just a case of Jones simply doing what he’d always done best, and Arigato, featuring drummer Ronnie Bedford and bass titan Richard Davis, is an often-terrific extension of Jones’ reemergence.

    The CD reissue added extra tracks with Jay Leonhart subbing for Davis, plus a second cut with Ray Rivera on guitar; the LP’s “Majorca” offers him in rhythm support, a sound easily subsumed into the whole, which to my ears is for the best, as sustained trio goodness is what Arigato is really all about. Jones wasn’t an edgy pianist, but neither was he someone you’d ever accuse of cocktail party hackery (at least I hope not), with the title track (and sole Jones original) reinforcing his aptitude for fast tempos while avoiding the underwhelming aspects of “flying-fingers”-style piano.

    Arigato’s song selections and the overall delivery also underscore Jones’ allegiance to swing-to-bop classicism; there’s even a medley of movie themes and standards. However, choosing Davis and giving him ample room to work out also makes clear this was no premediated exercise in conservatism; the pianist sounds fine, even during that medley, and especially so during “Majorca,” the sweet hat tip to Duke “What Am I Here For?” and a nifty closing take of Milt Jackson’s “Gerry’s Blues.”

    To further emphasize Jones’ mainstream bona fides, he was proficient at accompanying singers. In my case, this isn’t high in what I value in his work, as to be blunt, part of my initial attraction to jazz was its substantial and varied avoidance of vocals. I don’t think Jones ever backed Shirley Horn, not out of any lack of compatibility, but rather because she was a pianist herself, and a very good one at that.

    I’m not totally averse to jazz singing, but for me, Horn’s abilities at the keyboard really give her work some extra kick. Spurred in part through the advocacy of Miles Davis and Quincy Jones, she debuted on in 1960 with Embers and Ashes, but in a manner similar to Hank Jones’ ’60s work, her initial subsequent efforts didn’t foreground what makes her artistry so special, and by the second half of the decade she’d dropped out of the scene to raise a family.

    A string of cool ’80s LPs for Steeplechase put her back on the map, but most know her through a string of all-star-studded releases made in the late ’80s and forward for Verve, who had a knack for doing right by jazz vocalists (see Betty Carter). Initially released on CD in ’88 by the Audiophile label, Softly falls between these career developments, and in part through the circumstances of its creation, is a total knockout.

    Intimate is a descriptor that often accompanies recordings of jazz singers, but many of these examples are derived from nightclubs, which amongst other things are predominantly places of business. Softly was cut late at night at Mapleshade Studio, the rural Maryland home recording facility of Peirre Sprey, and in tandem with familiar associates Charles Ables on electric bass and Steve Williams on drums (who’d replaced Billy Hart in the midst of her Steeplechase run), Horn is in magnificent form as she never falters at doing two difficult things at once, her singing and playing sublime throughout.

    Even without the background info, the late-night aura is thick and sweet, and unlike a significant percentage of late-period jazz vocal recordings which offer exercises in “holding court,” as it were, Softly is instead Horn and associates diving deep into the chosen material and magnifying the essence; overall, it’s not an LP of highlights but an immersive experience, and a unique one in how it sidesteps cliché and deeply explores melancholy without ever succumbing to the maudlin.

    Never before on vinyl, Softly’s early-’50s Blue Note retro-esque cover might give the impression of a throwback, but it’s nothing of the sort. In elevating the norms of her chosen style, it’s a beautiful rarity, and it’s the best of this strong bunch.

    Les Paul and His Trio, After You’ve Gone

    Dave Brubeck, Time In

    Hank Jones, Arigato

    Shirley Horn, Softly


  • BEST NEW REISSUE : Haruomi Hosono via PITCHFORK

    Though his international esteem is virtually nonexistent, this Japanese polymath pioneered a musical ethic of open borders and freewheeling hybridity, epitomized by five new reissues.

    In the early 1980s, the Japanese singer, bassist, and producer Haruomi Hosono created an idea he called “sightseeing music.” It is a mode of making and listening that asks both creators and consumers to think of themselves as musical tourists, soaking up the sights and sounds of foreign cultures with an open mind and documenting them through personal translations. This peripatetic strategy ignored walls between genres and operated with an ethos of open borders and freewheeling hybridity. This concept powered a catalog of near-encyclopedic breadth. New Orleans funk, Okinawan folk, big-band swing, Bollywood bop, jazz fusion, acid-house chaos: A true musical polymath, Hosono has explored it all.

    Hosono, now in his 70s, remains a titan in his country’s musical history, but he does not strike such a towering figure abroad. Still, the impact of his vision has rippled across vast musical distances, making him perhaps the only artist whose sphere of tangible influence includes Derrick MayAfrika BambaataaDuran DuranKaitlyn Aurelia Smith, and Mac DeMarco. With his techno-pop group Yellow Magic Orchestra, Hosono helped pioneer sounds that shaped modern techno, hip-hop, and synth-pop. While Yellow Magic’s influence is unimpeachable (if underrated), Hosono’s role before and after the band’s pioneering run lingers in the margins. That’s partially because the bulk of his solo work has never been available in the United States, so his brilliance felt like a secret for record collectors and YouTube spelunkers. But a series of long-awaited reissues from Light in the Attic documents a five-album stretch from 1973 to 1989 that offers a revelatory glimpse at a mere sliver of his dizzying discography. At last, Hosono can step toward deserved international attention.

    In the late 1960s and early 1970s, Hosono helped foster a local folk music scene in Tokyo’s Shibuya coffee shops. One of his bands at the time, Happy End, became the first Japanese rock group to singexclusively in the native tongue, teasing out how to bend the idiosyncrasies of the language around Western rhythms. This alone is a career-defining achievement, but Hosono was rapaciously creative. After the band broke up in 1973, he and a group of musicians called Tin Pan Alley (a kind of Japanese answer to Phil Spector’s “Wrecking Crew” of ace session players) rented a pad an hour from Tokyo.

  • Garage rockers The Ar-Kaics stream new single 'She's Obsessed With Herself'

    This Virginia band know their 60s records - their first single is a bit 13th Floor Elevators flavoured.

    This is the real deal. Wayne Gordon, engineer whiz behind Black Lips and King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard, The Ar-Kaics. The title of their new single is immediately intriguing, it’s called ‘She’s Obsessed With Herself’. See what you think - it's streaming below.

    The American state of Virginia might make you think of the Dave Matthews Band, but turns out they have some great garage bands too, it seems. This sun-bleached American psych tune is just the first from their second album In This Time, due 23 November on Wick Records.

    What’s going on with this home made album cover? I have so many questions about that Jacobean ruff. This Richmond, VA band clearly know what they like, and it’s got to be 60s big beat and The Stooges without a doubt.

    ‘She’s Obsessed With Herself’ harks back to a time when American indie bands were going through all the old British Invasion albums for inspiration, and looks like The Ar-Kaics are up to the same thing.

    You know John Peel would have been a fan of The Ar-Kaic’s home-grown sound - I mean, they’ve managed to resurrect the insult  “square”.

    Gordon might have been working away behind the scenes for Daptone (a big funk and soul label in New York) in the past, but sounds like he’s making a record to fry your mind with this new band.

    Discover more about The Ar-Kaics


  • The Westerlies and Theo Bleckmann, In a New Collaboration, Reflect on 'Another Holiday'



    “Another Holiday” is a song of complex shading, in both musical and emotional terms. There are lyrical details that feel well attuned to the atmosphere of a holiday weekend like this one. “Another holiday / It’s barbecue and pie,” Bleckmann sings. “The kids will run around / And I’ll sit on the side.” But the mournful cast of the melody, and the haunted care in the vocal delivery, hint at deeper, darker considerations.

    Bleckmann wrote “Another Holiday” in June of 2016, shortly after the devastating mass shooting at Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Fla. In a press statement, he put the song in context:

    Unlike my often long and intensely critical editing processes when writing music, “Another Holiday” seemed to appear almost fully formed. This is a not a protest song but a song about being without refuge, of being isolated from your family because of whom you love.

    He sings the song in a deliberative cadence, as in the treatment of a Protestant hymn. Behind him, and all around him, The Westerlies create a sonic canvas at once beautifully consonant and tinged with melancholy unrest. For the first couple of minutes, the ensemble — Riley Mulherkar and Zubin Hensley on trumpets, Andy Clausen and Willem de Koch on trombones — plays a slow toll of arpeggios, like church bells.

    After the two-minute mark, they introduce a new wrinkle, phrasing their long tones in a way that suggests studio backmasking, like what George Martin famously did on portions of The Beatles’ Revolver. By three minutes in, the arrangement has taken on a double-time feeling; by four, it has moved on to a quality of swarming agitation, with the players employing slurs, double buzzes and other so-called extended brass techniques. (Some of those same strategies are a factor in the group’s Tiny Desk Concert, from 2016.)

    There has been a personnel change in The Westerlies since the video above was shot. Hensler has taken a hiatus to focus on producing; his replacement, who joined the group just in time for the summer residency, is Chloe Rowlands. Among other things, she has led the orchestral brass section for Loft Opera, and plays in the indie band Cape Francis. Like every other member of The Westerlies, she originally hails from Seattle.

    The public premiere of Songs of Refuge and Resistance will be on Sept. 22 in Seattle, at the first annual Westerlies Fest. According to Clausen, the ensemble plans to record the project early next year, and bring it on a concert tour in the 2019/2020 season.

    Elsewhere in the suite, political resistance is brought more to the foreground. A piece called “Thoughts and Prayers” was created for this project by the experimental composer Phil Kline, who incorporated a speech given by Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School survivor and activist Emma Gonzalez early this year.

    As for the undertow of elegy in “Another Holiday,” it feels all the more appropriate in a political season rife with talk of family separations and rampant civic disunity. Toward the end of the song, Bleckmann presents a heartbreaking permutation of the opening verse:

    Another holiday

    It’s barbecue and pie

    How could it be the same

    Without you by my side?

    Then he voices the central wish in the song, which turns out to be articulated by its title. “I want just one holiday,” he sings, moving into his falsetto register. “Just one,” he repeats. “Just one.”


    A substantial portion of my musical education occurred in my early 20’s. Luckily for me, the early 2000’s was a heady and electric time for all manner of underground rock music. While radio rock was still controlled by a very odd blend of nu metal growling and post-grunge groaning, I fell in love with every possible stripe of emo and punk. Sure, the music was still powered by plenty of guitars, but I really connected with the emotional energy more than anything else.

    MANIAC - Dead Dance Club

    So, when Dead Dance Club by MANIAC hit my ears, I was instantly transported back to the front seat of my 1997 Toyota Corolla.

    As I drove all over the greater Houston area listening to acts like Fifteen, MxPx, The Hives, The Strokes, and The Vines. Released in June 2018 on Dirt Cult / Hovercraft Records, this delectable record combined the buzzy sheen of ‘00s revivalist garage rock with the glammy goodness of ‘80s goth-pop. It veritably burst with the swagger second-wave punk rock, and to its credit, it never tried to be anything more than that.

    Over the 28 minutes, the band delivered 12 songs that bristled with punchy hooks, straightforward arrangements, and no-frills guitar rock. I was also impressed with the quartet’s crisp musicianship, in that for all the punk energy on display, you can tell that these gentlemen were locked in tight when laying the tunes to tape in the studio.

    I’m all for bands having fun during the recording process in hopes of capturing the passion of a live show, but I also appreciate that MANIAC opted to be professionals so that people like me could truly appreciate the stellar background harmony vocals, subtle lead lines, and superb drum fills.

    A strong middle third does the heavy lifting for the entire project. “Calamine,” “Modern Love,” “Children of the Dirt,” and “Living in Stereo” showcase the hard work these four guys put into creating guitar-bass-and-drums rock music that struck me as familiar in the best possible way.

    By aiming for classic instead of revivalist, MANIAC swerved wide of sounding reductive or retread.

    MANIAC Band

    Photo by Zach McCaffrey.

    So, yeah, I’ve heard the sounds presented on Dead Dance Club many times before, and I’ll return to them many times in the future. But what matters is that I will always vouch for a band that intentionally crafts a worthwhile update on a nostalgic sound without attempting to be sonic revolutionaries. Sometimes, you just want to listen to the comfortable sounds of good rock music without being pandered to or feeling forced to fend off soppy sentimentality. And MANIAC has delivered exactly that – and I couldn’t be happier.

    Adam P. Newton

    Despite all of the cliches you might have heard about the place, Adam P. Newton actually enjoys living in Texas – most of the time. He currently creates and curates content for a marketing agency, and in his limited free time, he writes a memoir about his journey through music called “Explaining Grownup Music to Kids.”

  • Move Over, Big Star—Here’s Zuider Zee

    Light in the Attic’s Collection of Unreleased Tracks Gives the Memphis Band Its Due

    There are plenty of good reasons why the Memphis-based rock band Zuider Zee never hit it big. Take their name, for example, which came from a Dutch bay that was dammed and turned into dry land, as mentioned in the children’s book Hans Brinker. (Not that the group’s earlier monikers—Thomas Edisun’s Electric Light Bulb Band; Black Brown Orange and Gray; Fair Murphy Wormwood—were any better.)

    There’s also the affinity that Zuider Zee’s singer, guitarist, and chief songwriter Richard Orange had for the British music of his era. Orange was enamored by Beatles-style songcraft as well as the sultry-sweet androgynous sounds of T. Rex and other glam rock bands burning up the English charts in the early ’70s. This put Zuider Zee distinctly out of step with their peers, the blues-rock and boogie bands that were gigging around the American South at the time.

    Perhaps most significantly, the band simply suffered from poor timing. After years of paying their dues—constantly playing live and sneaking into studios during off-hours—Zuider Zee were finally signed to Columbia Records at the exact moment drummer Gary Simon Bertrand quit the band. One self-titled album, ornamented with busy production, came out in 1975 and disappeared without a trace. (Its power-pop ingenuity did earn a fervent fan in Cheap Trick guitarist Rick Nielsen.)


    But no one can say that Zuider Zee didn’t break through because their songs weren’t good enough. Zeenith, a new collection of unreleased recordings the group made from 1972 to 1974, has just been released by Seattle label Light in the Attic, and it reveals Zuider Zee to be the equals of the similarly overlooked Memphis band Big Star. These are glorious, chewy, tingling bits of power-pop—superior to the recordings the band officially released on Columbia, and some of the best American pop-rock craftsmanship of the era. While the group ostensibly recorded these songs as demos with no express purpose of releasing them, they’re fully fleshed-out, ingenious bits of record making, with inventive arrangements and the terrific, full-bodied studio sound of recordings made in Memphis and Nashville in the early ’70s.

    Part of Zuider Zee’s allure is Orange’s uncanny vocal resemblance to Paul McCartney. If you throw on Zeenith without telling your friends what’s playing, one of ’em’s bound to comment, “Wait, which Wings album is this?” And it’s no Red Rose Speedway or Speed of Sound, either—Zeenith is more like Band on the Run, with mini-epics like the gloriously riffy “Haunter of the Darkness” and the lovely, acoustic-based “Ackbar Didedar.”

    Offsetting the sweeter edges of Orange’s songwriting is an appealing nastiness, too—the feral quality of a young rock ’n’ roll band paying its dues comes through on the heavier tracks, reminding you this was a band that shared a single crummy house and skipped meals in favor of guitar strings. Fortune was never on Zuider Zee’s side, but hearing an amazing track like “After the Shine’s Gone” 45 years after it was put to tape suggests that maybe some is on ours.



    1984 has already been quite a year. The Donald, now a father for the third time, has finally seen Trump Tower up, running and open for business, and he’s in the middle of rebuilding the skating rink in Central Park. The Soviet army is on alert after President Reagan joked that we’re gonna begin bombing them in five minutes. 46-year-old Jack Nicholson won his second Oscar, for Terms Of Endearment. Apple dramatically introduced the Macintosh computer to the world with an Orwellian commercial directed by Ridley Scott, hot off his success with Blade Runner. And British new-wave outfit A Flock Of Seagulls released The Story Of A Young Heart, which—following 22-year-old guitarist Paul Reynolds leaving the group after it hit record stores—has turned out to be the last LP by the band’s original lineup.

    That is, until now. (OK, we’re back in 2018, McFly.)

    With Ascension (out June 29), Reynolds, Score brothers Mike (vocals, keyboards) and Ali (drums) and bassist Frank Maudsley have gotten the original band back together—with a little help from the Prague Philharmonic Orchestra. The 12-track LP features A Flock Of Seagulls symphonically redoing all the hits—”I Ran (So Far Away),” “Space Age Love Song,” “Wishing (If I Had A Photograph Of You),” “Telecommunication,” “Nightmares,” “Transfer Affection”—plus other fan faves, primarily from 1982’s self-titled debut and the following year’s Listen.

    Given that A Flock Of Seagulls had two members who were hairdressers with a taste for the theatrical (and, kids, this is the early ’80s we’re talking about), videos played a big part of the band’s success in the U.S. thanks to frequent airplay on MTV. So it’s not surprising that the quartet already has a new clip from the new album, for the new “Space Age Love Song,” a 1982 top-30 smash in the U.S. that’s still essential ear candy from the greed-is-good decade. And if you don’t believe us, just ask Mike Score: “I knew when I wrote ‘Space Age Love Song,’ it was perfect,” he says. “And it was far beyond what any other new-wave band could do.”

    Unlike during the new-wave era, however, these days band members don’t have to all be in the same studio to make a record. Or, even, the same country. So shooting the video for “Space Age Love Song” also marked the true reunion for the foursome. “We made the record in separate studios around the world,” says Score. “So when we made the video, it was actually the first time we had been all together since 2004. It was a good feeling. That Seagull magic is still there.”

    What isn’t still there, though, is that patented A Flock Of Seagulls hair—hair so groundbreaking and unforgettable that it’s been referenced by name in films like Pulp Fiction and The Wedding Singer. These days, instead of that physics-defying waterfall that resided on top of Score’s head, he’s now rockin’ the cue-ball look. But like they say: Hair today, gone tomorrow.

    We’re proud to premiere the video for “Space Age Love Song” on magnetmagazine.com. Although it took a while, it will make you smile.


  • This Heat archival series continues with three EVEN HOTTER new releases coming this summer on Light in the Attic

    This Heat archival series continues with three EVEN HOTTER new releases coming this summer on Light in the Attic

    If you’re truly cool, you already know that, basically four decades ago, Brixton avant-post-punk trio This Heat put out three massively influential records records (1979’s This Heat, 1980’s Health and Efficiency, and 1981’s Deceit) that fused boring ol’ “punk rock” with everything from krautrock to dub to musique concrète and noise to industrial to Scottish bagpipe music (okay, good catch, that last one was a lie; just testing to make sure you’re truly cool).

    Since you’re truly cool, you ALSO know that the Light in the Attic label, with the “full co-operation” of surviving members Charles Bullen and Charles Hayward, began a comprehensive reissue campaign a few years ago with the intent of bringing This Heat’s seminal sounds back to the the steaming hot turntables of truly cool motherfuckers everywhere. 

    And now, that campaign continues with the announcement of three of the band’s even rarer, even OBSCURE-EREVEN FURTHER OUT OF PRINT releases, all of which are probably being cast in delicious wax even as we speak: Made Available (a compilation of super-early John Peel sessions from 1977), Repeat / Metal (a sort of unofficial “posthumous album” recorded in 1979-80 buy not released until 1993), and Live 80 - 81 (a compilation of “rough cassette tape recordings of European gigs in Tilburg, Nijmegen, Ärhus, Apeldoorn, Vienna and Rheims between April 1980 and June 1981”).

    But…just how RARE are these three albums, you ask? Well, Mr./Mrs. SNOOTY: The Made Avilable LP hasn’t been “available” on vinyl for 20 years, and the other two have NEVER been issued on vinyl before. All three of these badboys are currently being readied for your rapacious consumption on August 3 in a plethora of delectable format options (pre-order each of them from Light in the Attic herehere, and here, respectively). 

    And, needless to say, ALL THREE are somehow SIMULTANEOUSLY the most important record ever. Don’t even ask how that’s possible. (Besides, if you don’t already just intrinsically know, then you might not be truly cool.)

    Made Available tracklisting: 

    01. Horizontal Hold
    02. Not Waving
    03. The Fall Of Saigon
    04. Basement Boy
    05. Rimp Romp Ramp
    06. Sitting
    07. Makeshift Swahili
    08. Slither

    Repeat / Metal tracklisting: 

    01. Repeat
    02. Metal 

    Live 80 - 81 tracklisting: 

    01. Horizontal Hold
    02. Paper Hats
    03. S.P.Q.R.
    04. Triumph
    05. Aerial Photography
    06. The Rough With The Smooth
    07. Makeshift Swahili
    08. Music Like Escaping Gas
    09. A New Kind Of Water
    10. Twilight Furniture
    11. Health And Efficiency


  • At the Drive In, Nirvana, Melvins Members Feature on New Album

    Anywhere II also includes contributions from Minutemen’s Mike Watt, “America’s Next Top Model” winner Naima Mora, others

    • ROCK

    Anywhere is “an experimental music collective” founded by Christian Eric Beaulieu and Cedric Bixler Zavala (of At the Drive In and the Mars Volta). In 2012, they released their self-titled debut, which featured contributions from Mike Watt (of Minutemen and fIREHOSE). Anywhere have now released their second album as a Record Store Day exclusive vinyl, as Consequence of Soundnotes.

    The sequel, appropriately titled Anywhere II, features Mike Watt, Nirvana’s Krist Novoselic (on accordion), Melvins’ Dale Crover, “America’s Next Top Model” winner Naima Mora, and others. Anywhere II gets a wider release on May 4 via ORG Music. Check out the full credits.


  • Digable Planets, “Reachin’ (A New Refutation Of Time And Space)” [reissue]

    Digable Planets
    Reachin’ (A New Refutation Of Time And Space) [reissue]

    There are certain albums that are intimidating to critique. Digable Planets’ Reachin’ is one of them, such was the poetry and grace of the concise body of work put together by Ishmael “Butterfly” Butler, Mary-Ann “Ladybug Mecca” Vieira, and Craig “Doodlebug” Irving in 1993.

    Lots has already been written about the album; for example, Reachin as a product of the group’s formation, or the deluge of jazz samples (most taken from Ishmael’s father’s jazz collection) that made the album sound mystical. But even today, commentary on the album often overlooks just how straight-up good it is. Reachin’ is intellectual, poignant, and meaningful, but it also swings with a relatively sparse (even minimal, if compared to current production values) soundboard underpinning it. 

    So what’s the secret? Well, actually, it’s the lyrics. No, it’s more than that—it’s the words themselves. Not just the couplets, but the way individual words are bolted together. As the menacing space oscillations of opener “It’s Good to Be Here” break into the cheery rap of “The ticky ticky buzz, the sun wakes the sky,” expectations are twisted and the album seamlessly moves between youthful vigour and beyond-years wisdom.

    With twenty-five years of hindsight, part of the ongoing appeal is how Reachin’ manages to feel increasingly optimistic, perhaps an unintended consequence of darkening times. This isn’t to say the album lacks vulnerability or uncertainty—far from it—and maybe the dignified intellectualism keeps it seeming bright; however, tragedies ebb throughout. The menace in the slowed-down Hamilton Bohannon sample on “Pacifics” adds to the chaotic mindset of city life, and the humbling treatment of abortion in “La Femme Fétal” is a perfect expression of tenderness, with its beatnik feminism and smoky noir organ chords.   

    Whatever the tone, Reachin’ forces a smile on the listener, and the New-York–via-Mars depicted is a palette of pastel greys and huge bleached-blue skies. “Where I’m From”is mellow poetry, proudly regaling the listener with staccato, bookish rhythms: “We be reading Marx where I’m from / The kids be rocking Clarks where I’m from / You turn around your cap, you talk over a beat / And dig some sounds, booming out a Jeep.”

    But there’s also a playfulness peppered across Reachin’. “Jimmi Diggin Cats” set-dresses the ’90s with the ’60s; it presents an alternate universe in which Hendrix digs the trio, the Black Panthers have a cartoon, and MC Hammer’s a pimp. It’s the kind of conversation you’d hear on a California campus, laid over rhythms that snap and fizzle effortlessly.

    Reachin’ is a marvel—an exercise in free-flow music with songs that roll out the speakers and will not be denied. If there’s a weakness, it’s in the eye of the beholder. There’s a complete absence of meanness and in its stead a joyful endorsement of thinking and self-empowerment—so if you crave aggression or bombast, this won’t work for you. But if you’ve an appetite for music as art, this album remains essential.


  • Mattiel's 'Just A Name' To Get UK Release

    Plus, European shows have been confirmed...


    Garage-soul talent Mattiel is set to give her 'Just A Name' album a full release through Heavenly Recordings.

    The label stumbled across the record following a recommendation, and it helped soundtrack their slow descent into winter.

    Taut soul grooves matched to lo-fi garage sounds, 'Just A Name' was spearheaded by Mattiel alongside Randy Michael and Jonah Swilley.

    Sitting somewhere between The Gories and The Staple Singers, The Sonics and Martha Reeves, 'Just A Name' will gain a UK release this summer.

    Check out a teaser below.

    Catch Mattiel at the following shows:

    27 London All Points East
    29 London The Lexington

    Join us on Vero, as we get under the skin of global cultural happenings. Follow Clash Magazine as we skip merrily between clubs, concerts, interviews and photo shoots. Get backstage sneak peeks and a true view into our world as the fun and games unfold.

    Buy Clash Magazine


  • BANDCAMP : Album of the Day: Hex, “The Hill Temple”

    The Hill Temple, the first album from New Zealand-based Hex, is named for a churchdevoted to the study and teaching of the tarot near Wellington, and is dedicated to the notion of empowering witches. The group—made up of Kiki and GG Van Newtown, who are married, and drummer Jason Erskine—blend punk, folk, rock, and classical music to create something powerful and enchanting. It’s also an album of extremes: The anthemic vocals in “Gardener’s Prayer” call to mind Black Sabbath, while “Sight Beyond The Line” has the melodic brightness of The Cranberries, and “Billboard”’s slowly-circling vocals and taut nets of guitar could have been plucked from an early Lush album. But while The Hill Temple is sometimes foreboding and other times energetic, it is consistently mystical.

    On “It Begins With A Man,” feminist anger is delivered via ghostly, strikingly soft vocals. Supported by a simple but unyielding bassline, its chorus speaks of a change led by sacred feminine knowledge and sisterly bonds: “He doesn’t know about our plan / A thread connecting us through time / Handed down from sisters past.” It’s hypnotic and entrancing. Throughout the album’s eight tracks, Kiki’s vocals swing from celestial to defiant, winding ominous melodies over heavy riffs. Lyrically, Hex encourage engagement with the spiritual, channeling it to create a force for good. On “The Moon,” the Van Newtowns chant: “I see you / I see the moon / Both reflectors of energy / But we’re in an original position / We are a battery of complex construction.”

    The title track brings the album to a solemn close. The final lyrics present a promising, united future—a continuation of the ideas offered throughout the album: “Around the central golden door / We rise together like a tower / Where we unfold like a flower / She takes your hand and I take yours.” With The Hill Temple, Hex step out of the shadows, and suggest that the mystical world still has an important role in navigating life, love, and conflict.

    -Isabelle Tolhurst


  • Video premiere: Logan Lynn, ‘My Movie Star’

    Logan Lynn
    Logan Lynn

    Score one for the piano man.

    The latest work from prolific and mercurial singer-songwriter Logan Lynn — the Portland-based writer, media personality and activist — comes in the way of “My Movie Star,” a 12 1/2-minute featurette soundtracked by three songs from Lynn’s forthcoming album. Co-produced by the songwriter’s champion, actor/comedian/radio host Jay Mohr, it tells the sweet story of an underdog lounge performer who might finally get his due.

    There’s good reason that Mohr, in talking about the 2016 album “Adieu,” called Lynn’s music “a victory for the broken bones and bruised hearts that support our heavy souls. For anyone that has ever felt disconnected, unheard, under-appreciated or unrequited …” Lynn’s open-hearted narratives have enjoyed wide embrace, especially in the Portland community (the Dandy Warhols have been a early booster, the Thermals’ Hutch Harris profiled him for the city’s alt-weekly) where the 38-year-old has become a mental health advocate and LGBTQ activist.

    Lynn’s full-length “My Movie Star,” out later this year, will actually be a multi-media double album, with remixes and covers — and it will feature collaborations with ’80s pop singer Tiffany, the Dandy Warhols, Jarryd James and Rian Lewis, among others. The 10-song collection was culled from Lynn’s “Steinway sessions” — writing sessions he streamed online for his fans. In recording them, GLASYS, the keyboard wiz who works with T-Pain, became a major player, and Mohr (“Saturday Night Live, “Jerry Maguire” and many others) not only co-produces but is co-writer on a couple of songs.

    “Back when my last record was about to come out, I did Jay’s podcast and the interview went super deep,” Lynn says. “From there, he was one of the first to review that album and we’ve been pretty inseparable ever since. When I started writing all of these new songs I was sending them to him because we were hanging out and he really organically started giving me feedback. That led to officially co-producing and, in some cases, co-writing the album with me. Jay completely inspired the process and pushed me into this exposed, really quiet place over the course of the next year.

    “At the end of the day, the songs ended up being all kinds of magic. The entire ‘My Movie Star’ project would not have happened without Jay’s belief in me and this unwavering vision he had of where my music was supposed to go next. He was right.”

    Speaking of going places, William Adkins stars as the actor in the video triptych, which follows Lynn from a lounge, to the city sidewalks to a freeway underpass. It’s tonic for anybody dreaming of finding their movie star, metaphorical or real, and for those who think movies should have a happy ending.

    ||| Watch: “My Movie Star”


  • KEXP: Read an Excerpt from Larry Mizell, Jr.'s Liner Notes for Digable Planets' Reachin’ (A New Refutation of Time and Space)


    Twenty-five years ago this month, hip-hop group Digable Planets released their debut album, Reachin’ (A New Refutation of Time and Space). The landmark album, fueled by their hit "Rebirth of Slick (Cool Like Dat)," broke through the the Billboard charts and earned the trio one of the very first Grammys for Best Rap Performance By a Duo or Group. It cemented rappers Ishamel "Butterfly" Butler (who went on to form Seattle's Shabazz Palaces), Craig "Doodlebug" Irving, and Mary Ann "Ladybug Mecca" Vieira in rap history. This Friday, Feb. 23, Light In The Attic Records will reissue the record for its 25th anniversary. Included in the packaging is in-depth liner notes from writer and former KEXP Street Sounds DJ Larry Mizell, Jr. Ahead of the release, KEXP is sharing an excerpt of Mizell's piece, which includes a new interview with Butler reflecting on the record. Read it below.


    “My father taught me jazz, all the peoples and the anthems/ Ate peanuts with the Dizz and vibed with Lionel Hampton…”

    “That was all my pop,” Ish says. “That's all Big Reg. He was a saxophone dude—he didn't play, but he knew every saxophone player. It was just jazz around the house. He never really hated on hip-hop, but he was always like, ‘Man, please.’ When I was about ten, he was like, ‘C'mon, I'm taking you somewhere.’ We go see this cat in this little building, he comes out with a box—it's an alto sax. I'll never forget him putting it together. I'm blowing the shit in the car. I played alto sax all through middle school and early high school.”

    After his parents’ split, Ish’s life was divided between Seattle and the East Coast. He attended middle school in Baltimore, Virginia, Philly, and New York—“raised under the dim streetlights of four cities,” as he'd later relate. He came back home to Seattle’s Central District, where he attended Garfield High School—home of the Bulldogs, illustrious alma mater of Quincy, Jimi, and Bruce. (The “Dog House” is also world-famous for its jazz program.) Young Ish was already standing out. “When I first got to Garfield as a freshman, niggas was like, ‘Who is this cat?’” “Shit,” he laughs. “Comin’ home with some suede Pumas and Lee jeans and a Starter? What! Cats was rocking curls and shit, I had the short haircut with the parts. B-boy to the bone. Lee flavors with the Pumas, the Triple Fat Goose with the fur. I didn't really fit in—it was a rough couple of months at first! But then when hoop season started, cats was like, ‘OK, he's a regular guy.’”

    “Stirrin' up the ground with the sound of Doug E. Fresh/ and the hard rockin' kids that did it for the black/ with the Pumas on their feet and the bombers on their back...”

    In high school, Ish started rapping—he had a crew, making demos and rocking Garfield talent shows. “It was just, like, hallway superstardom! Cuz back then, making it in rap? That was like saying you were ’bout to go to the NBA, and you seven.” But hoops is exactly what took him back East, with a basketball scholarship to UMass—but his heart was still in his art. “My man George lived in my dorm and had a lil keyboard-slash-studio in his crib—I hammered out a few early Digable things in there. So I guess about ’88 or ’89 is when I started making some of what turned into Reachin’.” 

    Ish eventually left school and split back to Philly. “I was living in Wynnefield in this little apartment under my aunty’s house. I used to see this dude around Philly, he was just a weird lookin’ nigga with the orange dreads. He looked like an English dude or something!” That dude would be one of the city’s favorite DJs, King Britt—real name, no gimmicks—whose beloved weekly Silk City was a local hotspot. His inclusion in the crew (as their DJ) is usually treated as a footnote—but truth is, before the album’s recording, he played a crucial and practical role in the group’s development.

    “I needed to make duplicates of the demo,” Ish says, “and just, I knew this nigga gotta have a tape-to-tape, a dual cassette deck. I ain’t know him. I cold hit him up—he was working at Tower as the Dance buyer. Like, ‘Yo bro, you got a tape-to-tape? I’m trying to make copies of my demo.’ He said, ‘Yeah’; I go to his crib, and this mufucka’s living with a bunch of other DJs in this big-ass row house. He was already bossing up in the DJ scene in Philly. I’m like, ‘Who the fuck is this dude?’ 

    King recalls, “We talked a bit, and it was like we were cool for years. Ish had the demo tape of the album and brought it to the crib. It blew me away. It sounded more like how [Ishmael’s current project] Shabazz Palaces sounds now. It didn't sound anything like how Reachin’ came out. It was dirtier and more esoteric.” 

    If you wish you could hear this demo, know that you’re not alone. “Oh, if I could hear that once again in my life, man,” moans Ish. “King said he got one somewhere but don’t know where. I did like a box of 50 of them, and they were in these cases—I had pictures on the front, you open it up, and the left side was a slot for a video, on the right was a slot for a cassette. I had actually shot a video. It was just me doing shit, walking downtown, with me talking over the shit. The other side was the demo tape. I did the artwork for it, the crazy font—I was on it like that.”

    Reachin’ (A New Refutation of Time and Space) - 25th Anniversary Edition is available for pre-ordernow.




    On its recent self-titled lp, Tucson-based psychedelic collective Trees Speak terraform long stretches of the 1-10 that carves through the Sonoran Desert into a cosmic autobahn. Led by visual artist Daniel Martin Diaz — whose work has been featured in Low Rider Magazine and Juxtapoz and comprises a large-scale installation at Sky Harbor Airport — Trees Speak incorporates work from players known for their work in groups like Giant SandCalexico, Black Sun Ensemble, and the Myrrors. Together, they build unfolding sound collage sagas that drift between foreboding electronic grinders, dreamy soundscapes, and pulsing, Berlin School electronics. Recorded live at Sacred Machine and Dust & Stone studios over a five-day stretch, the recordings capture players in the moment, their interplay untouched by overdubs or correction, but are manipulated, cut and paste-style, by Diaz after the fact. The results conjure up familiar touchstones like Cluster and Can, but take on their own unique, desert-inflected quality the spaghetti western “Ghost We Know” and shimmering compositions like “Everlasting” and “Reflections.” Even better is the searching, multi-part epic “Shadow Circuit.” It’s two parts stretch over entire sides of the double-lp, evoking prime Popol Vuh-style mysticism and sandy dread in alternating swaths. “If you pay close enough attention, the architecture of the natural elements is a sentient ecology of the cosmos,” Diaz writes on the band’s Facebook page. “And if you listen close enough, the inanimate structures of cellular life and cellular transmissions will speak clearly. Solar winds speak. Oceans speak. Computer servers speak. And Trees Speak.” Their dialog, as interpreted by Diaz and company is worth the listen. words/j woodbury 

    Trees Speak :: Shadow Circuit (AD edit)





    The Coathangers, Death Valley Girls, The Flytraps, Feels
    Visual projections & environs provided at every stop by Mad Alchemy Light Show & Burger! 

    2.19.18 - San Francisco, CA - The Independent

    2.21.18 - Eugene, OR - HiFi Music Hall

    2.22.18 - Vancouver, BC - The Rickshaw Theatre

    2.23.18 - Portland, OR - Dante's

    2.24.18 - Seattle, WA - The Crocodile

    2.26.18 - Santa Cruz, CA - The Catalyst Atrium

    2.27.18 - Solana Beach, CA - Belly Up

    3.1.18 - Las Vegas, NV - Beauty Bar

    3.2.18 - Los Angeles, CA - 1720

    3.3.18 - Long Beach, CA - Alex's Bar

    Dengue Fever, Winter, Summer Twins, Patsy's Rats
    Visual projections & environs provided at every stop by Mad Alchemy Light Show & Burger! 

    2.20.18 - San Francisco, CA - The Independent

    2.22.18 - Eugene, OR - HiFi Music Hall

    2.23.18 - Vancouver, BC - The Rickshaw Theatre 

    2.24.18 - Portland, OR - Dante's

    2.25.18 - Seattle, WA - The Crocodile

    2.27.18 - Santa Cruz, CA - The Catalyst Atrium

    2.28.18 - San Diego, CA - Music Box

    3.2.18 - Las Vegas, NV - Beauty Bar

    3.3.18 - Los Angeles, CA - 1720

    3.4.18 - Long Beach, CA - Alex's Bar
  • Television guitarist Richard Lloyd talks his new rock & roll memoir

    Punk-rock god and Television founding band-member Richard Lloyd discusses his new memoir Everything is Combustible

    Photograph: Courtesy GODLIS

    In the NYC music history books, Richard Lloyd is punk rock royalty. In 1973, Lloyd joined forces with Tom Verlaine to form the band Television—a guitar godhead tandem that put CBGB’s on the map with the release of 1977’s Marquee Moon, a classic art-punk shredder whose influence is stuff of legend, and a great source of classic NYC songs. Since departing from the band, Lloyd’s has proven to be master storyteller in many mediums. One of last year’s best music memoirs, Lloyd’s Everything is Combustibleis a sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll-fueled romp, chock full of wildly entertaining vignettes culled from his five decade-long career. We spoke to the indie-rock legend about looking back and leaving NYC. 

    When did the idea manifest to write Everything Is Combustible? Why was now a good time to document your incredible journey?
    A long time ago, actually. But I had to wait until I left Television. I couldn’t be honest while I was in the band about certain aspects of it. 

    In your book, you rattle off one amazing story after another. How did you manage to have such attention to detail after years of substance and alcohol abuse?

    I got this voice recognition software that allowed me to tell my stories and then save ’em on the computer. The book was written without any typing. It was all written as oral stories. Whatever little stories I could remember, I put together. It was going to be like a little series of vignettes. I’ve told some of these stories pretty much all my life. I can’t help but tell stories. It’s my nature. I had a lot of fun in life. And I’m still having fun.

    In Everything Is Combustible, you recount a rather sordid tale about ménage à troisthat you claim [Television bandmate] Richard Hell got wrong in his memoir, I Dreamed I Was A Very Clean Tramp. 
    I think Richard couldn’t stand the truth, because I remember him fleeing from that event. The story afterwards was that she [our partner] had done half of Television and one couldn’t get it up and the other couldn’t get it down.

    You definitely have no qualms talking about sex in your book.
    There’s only so far you want to go before it turns into soft porn. But those are real experiences, so they deserve to be in there. It’s part of my life, and, if anything, I’m guilty of being honest. Sex is like a drug. It’s an athletic activity (laughing). It doesn’t necessarily have to have love attached to it; if it does, though, that’s wonderful, too.

    Considering your seemingly superhuman memory, were there any challenges you faced in writing the book?
    I like to say: You don’t have to have a good memory if you always tell the truth, because there’s only one storyline. If you start lying then you gotta keep the lie supported by other baloney, and your memory ends up gettin’ shot because your imagination starts to interfere with your actual memory. I never wanted that to happen, so I kept it pretty straight.

    Television, Patti Smith, the Ramones, Blondie and Talking Heads essentially built the stage at CBGB’s, putting punk rock on the map. Did you ever think of yourself as “punk,” or identify with the punk scene?
    We had already been playing CBGB’s for two-and-a-half years when Punk magazine showed up. That gave the journalists a handle because there were a couple of bands that bought into the punk thing—Ramones and Dead Boys, principally. So they lumped everybody into the handle of punk music. But eventually that dilutes itself and the music defines the word, rather than the word defines the music.

    In 2015, you moved from New York City to Tennessee after living here for decades. Why did you move?
    Our landlord bought us out of our apartment, and to get a reasonable space would have been insane. The Music Building guy bought me out of the studio I had. It was that or have my rent doubled, so I lost my studio and I lost the apartment. It didn’t make any sense to stay in New York for no reason other than to struggle. I’m not a wealthy man by any means.

    What do you miss about New York?
    I miss the pace. But it’s too crowded, and you leave your house and you get knocked down by tourists. You know what I really miss? Walking. In New York, I walked everywhere. 

    Back in the early days, you made ends meet as a sex worker on 53rd St and Third Ave, like Dee Dee Ramone allegedly used to. 
    [Laughs] When I was starving, it turned out to be a last resort and, I mean, what the hell. It’s like: What are you afraid of? Go do it. If you’re walking around with a fear of something, that fear is gonna penetrate everywhere. I don’t really have much fear. You gotta do what you gotta do and I’m not embarrassed by it. I don’t think Dee Dee was either.

    You’ve skirted and flirted with death so many times, as you tell in your book. 
    I’m like a gymnast in the circus! I think I’ve gotten more than nine (lives) already used up. I lived enough for ten people. It’s not over at all. I don’t believe in luck, so I believe that somewhere there’s some force that keeps me here, the life force that travels through me has more experience to undergo. Everybody suffers, so why not suffer to the utmost? You might get something good out of it.


  • HuffPost: Seattle’s A View of Earth from the Moon premieres new video for ‘Distance Runner’

    Seattle singer/songwriter Jonathan Fickes is behind A View of Earth from the Moon and its invigorating, classically Big Beat-kissed debut feels like a stunning emotional discovery; almost like seeing your existence for the first time from space. As he sings in the epic cloud-sweep of the single “Distance Runner,” ‘are you running away, or are you chasing something?’

    Fickes grew up in farmland Eastern Washington where he couldn’t suffer the region’s distinct lack of a music scene or any real culture at all, so he got a degree in music and moved to New York City for a couple years, playing folk music in Williamsburg — “chasing the ghost of Bob Dylan around Greenwich Village,” he says. “I came back to Seattle to join a band. That band broke up, then a couple more bands came and went, now here I am. Plus all my family lives here.” 

    Evoking his adoration of ambitious bands like Oasis, Tom Petty, Beck, Tame Impala, The Beatles, The Flaming Lips and others, and revealing years spent in the Seattle indie rock scene with To the Sea and The Fraidies, Closer to A Ghost is A View of Earth from the Moon’s bracing debut. It is full of rafters-rattling maximum power pop and lush, fully flowing romantic threnodies for people who have been aching for a big-sounding brokenhearted new masterpiece for a while. All eras of widescreen jangle are tapped; all flavors of vibrant power pop are robustly present. 

    “Distance Runner” is the third track on the album but the first choice for promotion. Fickes explains, “It’s a simple, driving, guitar heavy song with a great melody and a killer drum sound.” It also has many of the album’s big themes layered in imagery about seeing your own thoughts and beliefs from very far away.


    I’m a painfully nostalgic person. I spend way too much of my time thinking about my youth and remembering the perfect days of my childhood. This video is an unbridled manifestation of that illness, haha. I’m essentially running back in time to the town I grew up in and the friends that I made when I was a kid. We shot the entire video in one day. I had each location mapped out with the timing of each shot down to the minute. We had to make it from Seattle to my hometown of Moses Lake and arrive at my house exactly as the sun was going down and I can’t believe we pulled it off. It was actually a really moving experience for me. I love every person in the video and running from Seattle, through so many of the places that have been significant throughout my life, and into the arms of my best friends was horribly selfish but joyously heartwarming. And I can watch the video and relive it over and over again as often as I want. Oh, and I guess I hope it’s interesting for other people to watch too...