July in Review | Songs of the Week 07/28/2023 (coming to you from 08/04/2023)
Alright, you know that schedule I've been talking about for over a month? Well, we're finally doing that schedule, so keep up and bugger off.
July's Highlights
POOR PLACES | Wilco Oh boy. We're starting with a big one. A lot of times on Songs of the Week, the songs we're discussing are, for me, actually from that week—or, okay, if we're being honest, like three weeks ago, because I gotta get that color scheme right. While there aren't often songs I fully outgrow, I've found a lot of songs stick to certain parts of my life with the emotions, conflicts, and context they're warped by. It's rare that a full album is truly timeless in my life and stays just as good throughout it, but Yankee Hotel Foxtrot—maybe the best album there is—has been a constant companion through it all. Released before I'd even turned two, I think my Dad was trying to make this the soundtrack of my life, because no matter where I went, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot followed—not a ghost, but probably about that melancholy (I was not paying attention to that until well into my teenage years, though. It's just cool sounds, you know? Good melancholy). I can remember hearing "I Am Trying to Break Your Heart" pulling up to kindergarten; remember my dad explaining "you have to learn how to die / if you wanna wanna be alive" from "War on War" as we drove home from elementary school; remember being floored much later by how mournful and tender "Reservations" sounds while on some lonely, mountain road returning from a too-late Tae-Kwon-Do class. For me, every song on this album has been a classic throughout my life, and "Poor Places" is no exception. I've had this song on repeat lately since it recently came on shuffle, and it's brought me back to middle school in particular—how emotionally overwhelming the whole song is, and how I would be so totally overtaken by its beautiful sadness that I'd play it over and over again, which is not something I can imagine doing with many other songs whose sadness I feel that hard. Of course, sadness doesn't even begin to chart the sprawling landscape of this piece—there's almost certainly a degree of awe underlying it all, though, and one that for some reason compelled me to put it on a middle school dance request list. I don't know, man, it's pretty well mixed in there on the Max Todd Middle School Cringe Compilation, but I had my reasons: partially because I just wanted to hear the biblical freakout at the end on loud speakers, partially because I thought it'd make a good slow-dance hitting that colossal wall of emotion with someone else. Kayla really dodged a bullet, there.
His awkwardness aside, I do think middle school Max really was on to something here—even within the confines of earbuds, this song sweeps through the room like a shock wave. Somehow, it only feels natural after the slow, soft build of Jeff Tweedy's lyrics over Jay Bennett's gentle piano, reminding me of a sleepy city, fans still shooing out the summer heat, strung lights flickering to life in buggy patios. Certainly, there's a real heaviness here, but something in the chorus and the building piano sounds almost triumphant in spite of it—though the incredible lyrics don't hint towards much of it, there's a reluctantly happy slant here that's almost certainly skewed by my own giddiness whenever these chords hit. Then, of course, that shock wave, ushered in at 2:55 by a descending but not down guitar before the blast hits. Maybe it's the howling guitar feedback, or maybe it's the declassified spy radio code sampled in the midst of this freakout (which gives the album its name, of course, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot), but this blast really does feel atomic—when I hear it, it's hard not to think about nuclear test footage devastating dummy homes in black and white, absolutely ravaging a landscape in a single, neptunian swipe.
It's this explosive musical power and beauty that recently made me realize that this is one of my all-time favorite songs. I'm hesitant to name favorites in any situation, of course, but after pairing this surprisingly well with an incredibly unlikely candidate—Nine Inch Nails's "The Background World"—I've realized this song may unify a lot of what I look for across so many disparate genres. The power of music doesn't have to come from its extravagance, and often, emotionality is best expressed simply, but as a big-feelings sort of guy, songs like "Poor Places" that go absolutely balls-to-the-wall by spiraling out from their inherent emotional depth—songs that start from that source, but iterate on it like a fractal in every possible direction—for me, that's where the magic's at, no matter what genre or culture you're coming from. I guess after all of my Kate Bush talk, this shouldn't be a surprise, but I found it somewhat epiphanic to rationally connect my taste across dad rock and industrial metal. I don't know if I've said enough to praise it, but if I haven't convinced you to listen to "Poor Places," I hope I've at least convinced you to try something new today—to fish out something you like from somewhere you'd least expect to find it.
Pairs Well With: "Comfy in Nautica" (Panda Bear), "The Background World" (Nine Inch Nails), "The Same" (The Smile)
MYTHOLOGICAL BEAUTY | Big Thief Hey, it's been a while since we last talked about Big Thief, but not all that long since we last talked about crying... but we've never talked about crying to Big Thief, have we? Except, technically, for that one time last year? Seems fresh enough.
I was lucky enough to see Big Thief at Red Rocks just this Monday—lucky because it was Big Thief, lucky because it was Red Rocks, but perhaps luckiest because I saw them with the biggest Big Thief fan I know, my lovely girlfriend. Throughout the past few weeks, I've been big binging their discography with her, and although I didn't quite make it through all five of their albums, she found me many gems I'd never have discovered otherwise. Recently, the two of us took a day trip in the mountains, listening to Capacity through the two-hour return drive, during which I had the fortunate misfortune of processing "Mythological Beauty" for the first time. My girlfriend said "we'll skip the songs that will make you sad," and I was like, "bro, I'll be fine." Cut to "prayin' don't let my baby die" at 2:50 with some very watery eyes. What can I say? I have incredible timing.
I know I've had quite a bit of snark in the past with regards to singer and songwriter Adrianne Lenker's so-called "radical honesty," and I feel a little guilty about it, especially after an emotional wringer like "Mythological Beauty"—without that trademark rawness in her voice and in her words, I'm not sure what beauty would be left. Certainly, the music here is beautiful—the reconciliatory tenderness of the chorus's guitar, the subdued, electric shriek that briefly rises as Lenker recounts being cradled by her mother while bleeding from a head injury—but as is already clear, these sounds can't be felt without the words that they scaffold. Starting from the top, the title "Mythological Beauty" is (presumably) in reference to Lenker's retrospective reverence for her mother, flaws and all. The word "mythological," in particular, seems the perfect choice for this sort of reflection, because it evokes a deep and rich lived history—a life which, as children, we can never afford our parents until we've lived a little ourselves. There's a forgiveness inherent in this premise, spelled out in the heart-crushing chorus: "if you wanna leave / you just have to say / you're all caught up inside / but you know the way." Put another way, from another part of the song: "You have a child inside you who is trying / to raise the child in me." Through this tapestry of mistakes and perseverance, Lenker affords her mother the permission, space, and forgiveness to have lived, no matter how Lenker herself turned out in the process of being parented by a human. This song's story feels like a productive therapy session, and I don't mean that in a bad way—amidst all of these powerful emotions, it's as if the entire song bottles a moment of catharsis borrowed from someone else's life. I'm not sure where exactly the magic lies here, but it's the sort of mystifying mastery that seems effortless until you try it. I can't make catharsis work in fifteen pages, let alone just five minutes, though I hope to someday.
Unfortunately, we didn't get to see "Mythological Beauty" at Red Rocks Monday night, although maybe that was for the best. Even so, we saw from Adrianne's bare-bones performance that she is clearly the soul of Big Thief—she bears the sort of honesty I wouldn't ultimately want to shame, no matter how uncomfortably close it may at first seem. Oh, and also, shoutout to the rest of the band? They're pretty cool too, right?
Pairs Well With: "Sober to Death" (Car Seat Headrest), "To Cure What Ails" (Shakey Graves), "Seasons" (Chris Cornell)
VAMPIRE EMPIRE | Big Thief Oh, but hark! We are blessed with new Big Thief! Big Thief that doesn't crush the soul! Big Thief that really lunges for the crunch! Boy, I bet everyone else on the internet is loving this as much as I am, right? ...Right?
Viewing a fandom from orbit can lead to a lot of misconceptions. For as much as I've talked about them, I know almost nothing of the enlightened Big Thief discourse, catching what little I hear of it from my girlfriend. I suppose I haven't formed a stereotyped image of the average Big Thief fan in my brain (aside from granola baristas on campus here and there), but whatever person I was anticipating, they weren't as nasty as the reception for the official release of "Vampire Empire," which was far more vitriolic than I'd expect from a bunch of hippies. The discontent appears to be how the official version differs from Big Thief's surprise, debut performance of "Vampire Empire" on TheLate Show with Stephen Colbert, dressed like the contents of your grandma's Goodwill hamper (and pulling it off, dammit). There are some changes here and there, small but significant—the whole flute section was cut, as was Buck Meek's guitar solo, with the chorus losing its iconically twangy closer, "I'm a fish and she's my gills." I have to say, while I certainly miss those, I find the recorded version far better in spite of these omissions, and I'm having a lot of trouble seeing why we're grieving with a platter of grimy folk-punk before us.
"Vampire Empire" is a perfect representation of Big Thief's tougher face that I think goes underrepresented in their discography. While that trademark, Lenker rawness still shines here, this song's honesty comes not from its tenderness, but from its anger. With braying guitars, rough harmonies, and almost sloppy lyricism, "Vampire Empire" sounds a good deal more prickly than the usual Big Thief fare, and while that might sound like a downside to some, I'm here to welcome it with open arms. Much as I'm sure the punks would disavow this idea, I think angry noise-making loses none of its artful intent. Like, "sloppy" may not sound like a compliment when it comes to lyrics, and it often isn't, but there's a deliberateness to this song's simpler rhymes and language that just adds to its punch. Lines like "I'm not quiet, you've been quiet, just receiving what you said / reeling, feeding, feeling filled by everything you've fed" feel hot and claustrophobic, while lines like "you turn me inside out and then you want the outside in / you spin me all around and then you ask me not to spin / you say you wanna be alone and you want children / you wanna be with me, you wanna be with him" feel as explosive as any real pent-up resentment, especially when roared by a singer like Lenker. Seriously, we need more of this. What are we complaining about again?
Fortunately, my girlfriend and I were lucky enough to hear "Vampire Empire" live, but unfortunately, someone in Big Thief must have caved, because the song had acquiesced back to its Colbert adolecense. Much as I loved hearing "I'm a fish and she's my gills," knowing they were totally bullied into keeping it makes me squirm just a bit. Clap back, Big Thief! Or maybe I just want to hear more screamy Adrianne.
Pairs Well With: "Not" (Big Thief), "Dragon Eyes" (Adrianne Lenker), "A Shot in the Arm" (Wilco)
MOVE TO IT | Co-Pilot GUYS! IT'S CO-PILOT DAY! Oh, it's Co-Pilot day, the day I've never made mention of until this moment, but you'd better get used to this rotation, because their rave-reviewed debut album Rotate drops on July 28th, when this post released and when it always has released.* If this is all coming as a surprise to you, it's because Co-pilot sort of snuck up on me, too. As much as I'm a fan of generally knowing what's happening, this is the sort of surprise I'm so happy to have never anticipated. Okay, bear with me, though: we're gonna go on a little side tangent. I know, I know. Reprehensible behavior here on Max Todd Dot Com (Max. Todd. Dot. Com. :( )
Since March of 2022 (seriously, it's been that long), we've been blessed with a more-or-less monthly EP from Jim Noir's Patreon in anticipation of a still-upcoming new album... or three? Despite its transparency, it's been a pretty mysterious process, though one that has yielded some fifty-something new songs for enlightened Jim Noir enjoyers. As I've discussed recently, though, this prolific output would be a marathon for even the most seasoned musicians, and though I'm not one to look a gift Beach Boy in the mouth, this has certainly shown in the quality of Noir's recent EPs. Though I've yet to hear a single bad Jim Noir song, many of his recent EPs sound like sparser sketches—knots of ditties, tunes, and twine, hooks and bait, without much flesh between them. Obviously, this would be understandable even if there was nothing else happening in the man's life (and these posts go to show I can't really talk about consistency), but knowing that he was secretly working on an entirely separate project—a drop-dead fantastic one, at that—certainly illuminates what little lacking there is.
Enter Co-Pilot, a new two-person band co-piloted by Leonore Wheatley (of Soundcarriers and International Teachers of Pop) and the man himself, Jim Noir (or Alan Roberts, I guess). Their debut album Rotate just dropped, and after three consecutive listens, I've decided to maybe try and pace myself—even music this good can theoretically be overplayed, but I've yet to hit that limit. At its best, Rotate shows exactly where Noir's been putting his soul, and it does so explosively. The first four tracks back-to-back are some of the most wildly weird pop I've heard in years, and it all reeks of Jim Noir—the rainbow vomit of British whimsy, of uptight synth and thrift shop samples, is more concentrated here than even the entirety of the man's last album. Of course, to award Noir all the credit would be to sell Wheatley short—I've yet to check out any of her previous music, but hearing their two voices harmonize made immediate sense, and I'm already onboard for whatever else she has to offer. I think the album cover captures best the sort of weirdness listeners are in for when these two collaborate—sitting in the glowing cockpit of a defunct plane, sticky buttons lit and scrutinizing, the two stare blankly outwards, almost confused and certainly alien. It's a feeling that's translated exactly in probably the best ambassador for Rotate: its second single and second song, "Move to It." As soon as the base plucks in, many younger listeners will probably sense something familiar, confirmed when the bossa nova sample lurches in. For me, I recognized it as C418's iconic "Chirp" from Minecraft: Volume Beta; for others, it was Daniel Pemberton (of Spider-Verse fame here on Max Todd Dot Com)'s "Orb of Dreamers" from the LittleBigPlanet score. Either way, I'd never have known it, but this sample is perfect for Jim Noir—the rabbit hole goes deep. While I'd have assumed he was directly sampling C418's music since the two sound so similar, after finding Pemberton's "Orb of Dreamers," the connection became even clearer—Noir's own breakout hit "My Patch" was actually featured in LittleBigPlanet2, which is where many fans first found him. As it turns out though, neither song samples the other—all are pulling from a Mattel Optigan Music Maker from the 70s (this sound is labeled 70013 and you can listen to it here). Part of what I love about all three of these musicians is their knack for incorporating these sorts of secondhand sounds that I'd never even think to hear the music in. It's genuinely lovely stuff, and in this case, it lends a quality I'm not sure I can put a name to in "Move to It"—not quite ethereal, not quite mysterious, but somewhere in between. Whatever that feeling is, it gives me full-body goosebumps whenever the chorus hits at 1:43, belted by Wheatley as she harmonizes with herself over Clue-esque piano from Roberts.
Rotate is very bizarre in the most delightful way, but with the level of artistry and detail it clearly exudes, it already deserves far more air time. I know I'm frequently concerned with Alan Robert's highly underground status no matter what project he's piloting, but as always with underrated musicians like these, please stream Co-Pilot and support them on Bandcamp if you're able. They're a little bit Of Montreal in their bubbling synth rhythms, a little bit Cardigans with their Nina Persson-esque vocals, and a LOT Jim Noir, so check them out if this checks any boxes for you (or if it doesn't). More Co-Pilot talk soon (duh).
Pairs Well With: "Chirp" (C418), "Orb of Dreamers" (Daniel Pemberton), "Light My Fire" (Young-Holt Unlimited covering The Doors)
EVERGREEN | Shakey Graves And we're still not even through with the new releases! While I fully disagree with "Vampire Empire"'s reception, I'm very sympathetic to the worry after hearing a new song live that the recording won't live up to it. Thankfully, after seeing Shakey Graves retool new single "Evergreen" several times live, I'm so happy to say that dude is still going strong, because the official version is maybe the best iteration of the bunch. While I can't say I was the most enthused by the lockdown-era acoustic version debuted in a youtube interview, seeing Shakey play "Evergreen" with a full band at the Dillon Marina back-to-back with "Look Alive" (a pairing that only barely didn't make the cut), I was 110% onboard. I've seen him once since then, where more pieces of the puzzle fell into place—were those Blade Runner and Close Encounters tunes playing before the show? This, of course, was the night before his new album, Movie of the Week, was announced, with "Evergreen" finally dropping as the second single. So, it's been a long journey, but enough history—what makes this song so good?
Having dropped the same day as Vampire Empire, it's no wonder these two songs have so much in common—in this case, both artists really swung from their folkier sensibilities to a crunchier side without losing the former, and it works incredibly well in their respective favors. Despite the trepidation of record companies with his last album Can't Wake Up, Shakey Graves has made the leap from folk to near-psychedelia with flying colors, taking another, natural step from the synth-heavy Look Alive EP and songs like "My El Dorado" on his latest rarities collection Deadstock into accentuating the weirdness he's always had. "Evergreen" not only shrieks here and there, but somehow simultaneously maintains the smoothness that has always been inherent in its easy tempo and sweet lyrics, capturing an almost trippy atmosphere that I am all about. Not only that, but it's incredibly catchy, taking a page from indie rock stylings of Can't Wake Up—tied with Roll the Bones as my favorite Shakey Graves work to date, and one of my favorite albums ever. Top twenty, for sure. Or maybe thirty? That doesn't sound super high but like I said, I'm just very hesitant with favorites. Hopefully we'll be talking about Movie of the Week on favorites lists, too—I don't want to get my hopes up too high, but both "Evergreen" and prior single "Ready Or Not (feat. Sierra Ferrell)" have been not only instant earworms, but for me, instant classics. And what range, too, right? Anyways, I'm rambling. Keep your ears peeled for this one, though. Whatever that means.
Pairs Well With: "My El Dorado" (Shakey Graves) [Reviewed 03/10/2023], "Special Cases" (Massive Attack), "Swim to Sweden" (Co-Pilot)
One-Sentence Mentions
Since I couldn't bear to let these songs go un-acknowledged, here are some other recommendations I still really enjoy, but don't have nearly as much to say about.
I COULD FEEL YOU | Evelyn Frances must have missed the Dark auditions, because it was somehow never in the show despite fitting perfectly between Apparat's "Goodbye (with Soap & Skin)" and Fever Ray's "Keep the Streets Empty."
NAKED COUSIN | PJ Harvey is doing some heavy lifting selling me Peaky Blinders, being the angriest, crunchiest punk that works like anti-sigma male spray and smells exactly the opposite of Axe.
Though MONA LISA | Dominic Fike and HUMMINGBIRD | Metro Boomin, James Blake are far from my usual style, after my fourth (fourth) viewing of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, I've grown to like both a lot... barber, prepare my Broccoli cut.
Despite its buttery guitars, GOTTA HAVE YOU | Samia (from the Wild Honey Pie Buzzsessions) has a raw, indie urgency that reminded me a lot of Snail Mail's "Stick."
Art of the Week
El Verano, Carlos Merida
Mako Sica, Ross Braught
Bouquet of Flowers, Maria van Oosterwyck