Little Chief @ Solly's

I live for those serendipitous moments where the perfect song plays during the perfect moment. Back in November, while commuting down to rural Virginia for work, I streamed one playlist during that twice-weekly, four-hour commute. I first heard North Carolina by Little Chief the minute as I exited I-95 to I-295. At this junction, the choices were Durham or Rocky Mount. Either way, the Tar Heel state was within reach.

North Carolina and I have this strange relationship, comprised of mostly heartbreak, failed relationships and a blissful weekend at a beach. Two and a half years ago, in the fall of 2012, when my east coast move was full of naivety and new opportunities, Little Chief's North Carolina could be my mantra: "take me to North Carolina, where my baby lives. I won't be there by tomorrow but heaven knows I'm on my way." At the present moment, North Carolina is simply another state on the east coast, one I've visited a handful of times. However, when I listen to the harmonies given on this track, I want the state to mean more to me.

After streaming Little Chief's debut LP, Lion's Den, over and over again since March, I was anticipating their tour and hoping for a date in DC. With any luck, they stopped in DC for a show at Solly's Tavern last Friday. I wear my love for Solly's on my sleeve. The last show I caught there was Charlie Patton's War. Considering they're now opening for PUSA, I always feel that Solly's attracts bands we can all believe in.

The band introduced themselves to the crowd - consisting of a girl taking photos in the corner and the group I had brought. As with the album, Mountain Song was the opening choice. With over two-minutes of instrumental build up and a bang of an ending, I've always thought this was a fantastic choice to hook people on Lion's Den early.

Over the course of the evening, Little Chief did a pretty comprehensive span of their album, including Gold In The Morning, Lion's Den, Shiloh, North Carolina and Brothers. While sitting and listening to Shiloh in person, I realized just how reflective and at-peace I feel when that song streams. Brothers is the song I can't stop playing now and I never figured the last track on an album would be so catchy. In addition to the Lion's Den material, the band covered The Head and The Heart's Rivers and Roads and absolutely did the song justice.

By the end of the show, the crowd at least doubled and every single friend I brought with me to the show loved the band. If you have a chance to catch Little Chief on tour, I highly recommend. I couldn't think of a better way to enjoy a laid-back Friday night.

You can listen to and buy Lion's Den on bandcamp. Currently, the album is also available on Noisetrade as a free download.

The Colourist (Self-Titled)

There are moments where I wonder if I have equal passion for both folk and pop. These moments, usually prompted by a brilliant or catchy pop release, are fleeting. Pop over folk? Folk over pop? In the end, it doesn't matter. I, luckily, do not have to sell my soul out to either genre. But yet, the reason folk does capture a large part of my soul is the solid, passionate, thoughtful music the artists release. I can listen to a folk album and have a general expectation the album will be, for the most part, exceptional. I'm often not disappointed, even with such high expectations.

I have the opposite hopes for indie pop albums. I generally expect one fantastic song, that I can stream over and over again, until it is beaten to death by mainstream radio play and friends roll their eyes at me when I "act all hipster" about it. There is nothing rewarding for me when I am passionate about pop.

The Colourist is my current exception.

Their debut, self-titled album, tricks my brain into believing it's summer (it's not), believing it's warm enough to have my sunroof open (no, not really), and believing my morning and/or evening commutes are not terrible (they are). I'm not sure what sort of magical land my brain is now a citizen of, but I can't get enough of this album and the emotions it forces me to feel.

A few weeks ago, I saw a "hipster bro" on U Street carrying a vinyl copy of the album. I hadn't listened to it yet, but I had an idea of what to expect, based on what "hipster bros" skew towards. As far as pop goes, there's nothing new about The Colourist. I may be harsh, but their indie-pop, teetering on electronica, sound is not profound or revolutionary.

Their execution of this album, however, is.

Grouplove is an obsession people apparently have. As in, the band selling out three nights at 9:30 Club actually happened? Tongue Tied was everyone's anthem of Summer 2011, 2012 or 2013, depending on the platform they used for musical discovery. It's arguably one of the greatest songs of this decade, or even the millennium. But, the rest of Grouplove's work? It falls entirely flat on its own and especially in comparison to Tongue Tied. I'm not sure how the success of one song carries this band to such fame and every time I contemplate the phenomenon, I am fascinated.

I'm picking on Grouplove but the indie-pop circuit is full of albums consisting of one song, inspirational enough to be escalated to the mainstream airwaves, and mediocrity otherwise. Off the top of my head, I can think of the following that are guilty of this cookie-cutter formula: The Naked and Famous, Atlas Genius, Gold Fields, The Neighborhood, and Wild Cub, with the recent exceptions being CHVRCHES, Foster the People and Bastille.

Give The Colourist three months. In three months, during the height of summer, if this band isn't on the playlists for rooftop happy hours, beach trips, or various other activities, I will feel personally betrayed and once again, let down by the pop genre. The Colourist's self-titled is an anomaly that deserves to be worshiped by hipster bros, music snobs and tweens alike.

Little Games, the first track and first single, may be the Tongue Tied of Summer 2014, 2015 and 2016. It's about as flirty but with a more challenging dynamic, that will rouse those in "it's complicated" scenarios. "Am I your hit and run?" is the best one-phrase summation of what this song is trying to evoke.

Wishing Wells should be the mantra of this city for the next few months, "I'm sick of hearing what if, what if, just follow what you feel". At this point, at least 80% of the city has heard this sentiment, as I routinely belt the hook while driving through the streets of downtown (with my sunroof open, of course).

A few songs in and I figured the descent into mediocrity would begin. However, We Won't Go Home and Yes Yes bring their own unique jams to the table and could equally stand out as young adult anthems. We Won't Go Home is such a fantastic example of how both lead vocalists, Adam Castilla and Maya Tuttle, provoke each other to shine. In most bands with female and male lead vocalists, I feel one normally stands out over the other and that doesn't happen here. Yes Yes, as poppy and trite as it sounds, offers this piece of strikingly insightful wisdom: "you've been down for days and days but searching for another won't fix a thing." It's a reminder of where I've been lately and I can't help but agree wholeheartedly.

After five upbeat songs, Stray Away showcases the style range of Castilla and Tuttle. An acoustic offering, with soothing harmonies and bittersweet lyrics, it's the right time to take a break and come down from the high of the first half.

The ninth track, Fix This is the peak of not just The Colourist but of all indie pop to be released this year. The drama, the desperation and the determination are intrinsically woven with a cheery sound but remain obvious. The song is another example of The Colourist singing to lessons needing to be learned in our young adult years, "I thought love was a fight, you could tear each other down, then come back to life. I guess I don't always live." As much as Tuttle almost gives up, she's a rock in the chorus, stubbornly refusing to let her love go. If I royally fuck things up with my boyfriend, this song will be an olive branch - it's that fitting and that genuine.

Put The Fire Out does not work as an ending song, if only because I'm pumped up enough to expect more. On the upside, I can always re-stream the album and often find myself doing just that.

Listen to The Colourist's self-titled album on Spotify and purchase it on Amazon. A few tracks from the album are also available on Soundcloud.

san telmo by yesper

Almost a year ago, I stumbled upon some gorgeous, quiet folk music, courtesy of yesper and some midnight searching on bandcamp. This was one of those phases of my life where I wondered if I had made the right decision in the spring of 2011 to move from Seattle, Washington to Williamsburg, Virginia, to start adult life in Silver Spring, Maryland and to eventually make it into Washington, DC. Music was and always will be there for me in weird ways I can never adequately describe.

yesper's cannibal king was one of those discoveries, last June, that inspired insomnia, between the song itself and the story behind it. yesper had a flipped background to mine: he, apparently, is from Norfolk, Virginia and ended up in Seattle. I remember reading his bandcamp profile, feeling more connected to his music and reminiscing, because I miss Seattle from time to time too. He is an artist who remains such a shadowy-type character, an enigma even, recording songs in empty storefronts in Seattle and purposefully keeping a low profile. cannibal king was written on a farm in Chile and that adds to the intrigue, as I can hear the South American influences on some of these tracks. I don't think yesper can remain hidden for long. As time goes on, I believe my friends in Seattle will have no choice but to notice his (albeit quiet) presence in the local scene.


A few hours ago, yesper posted the video for the song, san telmo. I thought back to how I felt almost a year ago and experienced relief and astonishment that life can change so swiftly and drastically. I also felt a twinge of guilt over how much I've wanted to but haven't shared words yet on yesper's music. san telmo is a minimalist song but with worldly references and stunning character observations, set in the oldest neighborhood og Buenos Aires, Argentina. It's not necessarily the prettiest picture, but these details make me yearn to cross another South American country off my list, even so soon after my trip to Colombia.

Listen to san telmo below, on vimeo. You can also listen to and download both EPs, cannibal king and cables, on bandcamp. I'm really hoping this year or next is the year we'll finally see a full-length release.

san telmo by yesper from David Chen on Vimeo.

[Local] Noon EP by The Sun Kite

Back in July, I was enamored with The Sun Kite's Morning EP, a project by musician and songwriter, Michael Frommack. As part of a three-release conceptual project, spanning all phases of the day, I couldn't wait to hear what would be in store for Noon and Night. Morning had soft songs, provoking inner-peace, that I couldn't help but to play some mornings, just upon waking. Before dressing in business casual, before the stressful commute, before that first sip of coffee, the four-track EP was short enough to meditate to before the hectic days begun.

Noon and Night were released back in early February, one week apart. In continuing with and playing into the theme, I first streamed Noon during a quiet afternoon where I was working from home. The opening track, Light Motes, immediately feels warmer. The lyrics evoke picturesque scenes of the light coming from the sun and interacting with those on earth. The motes seem to dance while the trees grow, people sing and children love. It's truly beautiful.

In Pebble, the sun is more antagonistic, beating down upon those on earth. We're introduced to the characters acting, "hard and dry like the pebble". This notion of staying hard and dry, embodying the spirit of a rock, becomes necessary. It's not just the sun who is causing problems. The moon appears next and takes an indirect approach with scorn: he is reflective, hard, cold and contemplative. While generally hidden behind the "gatekeeper" clouds, the stars shine and taunt. Despite these threats, the celestial beings do not successfully crack or deteriorate the characters into rubble.

The Flora & Fauna are bigger than the credit they're given. At the end of the day, they're part of "a bigger picture, a bigger setting, a bigger story, a longer telling of our lives and our thriving". In the same vein, "we're all just mirrors, reflections of a greater light". I'm construing these thoughts to mean the flora and the fauna grow and ever persist, while we're just the end creations of a higher being. Like the previous two tracks on this EP, the attention is drawn to the nature and the universe.

By the end of the EP, I can't figure out if the world Frommack has presented is a reflection of the past or a window to the future. In this modern day and age, these observations and appreciations of nature and life simply do not exist. I can imagine the past, with no technology, more community and less structure. However, if society had to rebuild in the future, Noon would be predictive of some of the challenges and interactions nature would pose to humanity.

Frommack continues to astound me with his lyrics and unique take on quiet folk. I am looking forward to critically listening to Night and discovering its subtleties and metaphors. You can listen to and purchase Noon on bandcamp.

[Guest Post] Authenticity of Modern Pop Music - Words by Issac Purton of EmpireXL

I know things have been quiet lately. I'm currently in Colombia taking a much needed trip away from DC life. As much as I love this city, the pressure to escape has been escalating. Because I'll be gone for a week and work has kept me extra busy, I've reached out to a few friends to see if they'd like to guest post here. 

My undergrad friend and former roommate, Issac Purton, was happy to oblige. His blog, EmpireXL, is an exploration of music and creativity. His guest post is a critical and clever reflection of the authenticity of modern pop and the implications on music now and in the future. Enjoy! 

***

If there’s a problem with modern pop (and that’s a big if, mind you) it’s not that no one writes their own songs anymore. The idea of authenticity, and the lack thereof, gets batted around by people in thick-framed eyeglasses as the determinant of what makes a song great. One’s experiences, the theory goes, fuels one’s writing, and makes the final product superior by virtue of it being ‘real’. This is why people dismissed Lana Del Rey when they found out her name was Elizabeth Grant, and why people, faces hazed by smoke, still listen to Robert Johnson’s 31 songs on vinyl. This ignores, of course, the fact that Ms. Grant probably wrote more of her material than Mr. Johnson did.

Authenticity is an artifact of delivery, not origin. Presidents aren’t hailed as great orators because of how well they write their speeches; I don’t think a single President in the last half-century has written a single word they’ve spoken in front of an audience. Similarly, the singers we respect most, Elvis & Sinatra, for example, never wrote a word or note of their own material. Hell, Paul Anka, of all people, is the one who wrote “My Way”, a song that people seem to hold as Sinatra’s spoken motto.

Most pop songs are written with the universal in mind. This is why so many of them revolve around love, be it young, puppy, or on sight: it’s a fair bet that everyone has been in love at least once, and that’s exactly who the target audience of pop music is: everyone. Pop music, in the corporate sense, is designed to appeal to the broadest group of people possible, which is why artifacts of music that organically (more-or-less) gained popularity get assimilated into it. It’s important to remember that Auto-Tune, as an audible effect, only got popular because an engineer screwed up the effects on a Cher song.

The thing about music being written about universals like love (or death/murder (country), heartbreak (blues, jazz), depression (blues), etc, etc) is that you don’t need to have written it to relate to and express it. Frank Sinatra didn’t need to write a whole album’s worth of songs about being miserable: instead, he could draw from a whole catalog of standards to construct the definitive heartbreak album, In The Wee Small Hours (an album beloved by Tom Waits, a hipster idol if there ever was one). The question of who wrote a song like “What Is This Thing Called Love?” is an issue for trivia enthusiasts and accountants only; it has no relevance whatsoever on the quality of the piece itself.

This applies to music in a broader sense as well. If a song is truly well written and able to communicate its emotion or sensation of choice, it follows that someone else can pick it up and make it their own. The content of the song can trump the performer (as is often the case with “Hallelujah”, which sounds beautiful in almost any context) or the performer can change a song completely, and bring something new out of it. A performer can elevate a song, and a song can elevate the performer. This doesn’t have anything to do with authenticity: it has to do with what’s written and who’s speaking.

My go to for this point is to look at the music of The Band. I can’t stand most of their performances (due mainly to the obnoxious production), but performances like this one prove that there’s something there, beyond the production and, maybe, even the performance itself. A song can have a life of its own, and in that context it doesn’t matter what its origin was, or whether the original writer was heartbroken, half-in-the-bag, bleeding out from the chest, or whatever. What matters is what’s written.

In the consideration of modern pop, the problem is not that modern stars aren’t writing their own material, or even that they aren’t making it their own. Quite simply, it’s that the singers aren’t really the focus any more. They’re the performers, sure, but the publicity that surrounds them is usually more significant than their concerts. The real stars these days are the producers. They’re the core musicians, and they’re the source of the main divide between singer and audience in modern pop: Auto-Tune.

Auto-Tune was the unstated dream of every producer, manager, and engineer in the world before its invention, and now that it exists you’ll never hear a truly human voice in the Pop Top 10 ever again. The brilliant producers labels have at their disposal have achieved the dream of turning even the human voice into a synthesizable instrument, something that doesn’t rely on the caprice of a performer and whether they’re on the right combination of uppers and downers for the day. It’s a fantasy world where the singer only has to be in the studio for half-an-hour, at most, before the work of finalizing one’s masterpiece can begin. If vocoders weren’t so comical I’m sure labels would have washed their hands of pop stars decades ago (Casablanca probably tried).

A lack of authenticity, of a certain tragic origin story, isn’t the problem with modern pop. That’s been the state of affairs since pop music got its start in the 1950s and things were doing just fine. The problem we’re facing now is a lack of humanity, where the worst part of electronica (the vocals) got mixed with hip-hop’s emphasis on the producer/DJ as a major part of a performance.

This is not to say that Auto-Tune can’t be used well; it can, and can even, like a guitar pedal, express emotion in a way that’s unfamiliar and exciting. As an audible effect it’s no more horrific than something like ADT. The problem is when it’s used to smooth a vocal performance into an uncanny territory that’s almost, but not quite, entirely inhuman. The problem is when it gets used in country music, basically.

This is, of course, assuming there’s a problem with modern pop music at all. It’s not like previous decades of music didn’t see plenty of chaff rise into the Top 10 of the charts. The difference between then and now, quite possibly, is simple perspective. The bad music was forgotten, and the good lived forever. The same will likely be true 20 years from now, with the mediocre being cast into the margins of history and the brilliant living on in our classic rock radio stations (or Spotify playlists, whatever).

Or maybe the next wave of music will be so bizarrely alien to us that we’ll rush to Miley Cyrus’s side, apology in hand and tears in our eyes. If you thought Imagine Dragons was irritating, imagine what your children will be showing you.

Carousel by Miner

Around these parts, I'm not sure to what length I've discussed last summer. It was one of those beautiful times where despite feeling emotionally broken in every way, I pushed out of my comfort zone and accomplished more than I had ever hoped to. One of my favorite songs, going along with these moments, was courtesy of Miner. Hey Love was that warm, happy jam that wouldn't fail to make me grin or roll down my windows. At that point, Hey Love had been around for almost a year. With only one other released track at the time, Golden Ocean, that was all we had of Miner, until now.

Carousel, to be frank, is a relief. I'd come to expect more tracks heavily laced with the banjo and mandolin, upbeat and campfire-worthy, emulating that Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes vibe. On one hand, I find Miner almost more accessible than other bands it could be genre-lumped into with. This is catchy, from the soul, makes you want to fall in love, music and all of their released tracks thus far are solid. I can only hope their debut album will have twelve noteworthy songs.

With a year and a half from initial release to the debut album, husband and wife, Kate and Justin Miner had the time to build a band with Justin's brother Jeremy and other family and friends. It's a familial affair and an environment that can cultivate a grand work of art. Deriving inspiration from travels through Central and South America, with bedroom recording roots, I can guarantee this will be an album worth spending time with.

Miner releases their debut, Into The Morning, on February 25th. Preview the album by listening to Carousel and Hey Love on Soundcloud and by reading the lyrics on their website.

[Weekend Video] Atlantic City and In Spite of Ourselves by Kyle & Danielle

A few days ago, my friend Katie posted a video on my facebook timeline. After both of us being in musical ruts and discussing such sadness at our friend's house party, I shared with her a few of my favorite music bloggers. In return, she drew my attention to this cover of Bruce Springsteen's Atlantic City by Kyle Morton of Typhoon and Danielle Sullivan of Wild Ones. Despite being around for over three years, I had never seen the video and was immediately swooning over the duo's rendition.

Lucky for me, I didn't have to wait long for the next Kyle and Danielle collaboration. In what may be my favorite release of the day, this cover of In Spite of Ourselves by John Prine is really hitting the right spot. While the lyrics are sometimes crass and almost entirely crude, the portrayal of real love is what matters. Is there anything more perfect for Valentine's Day? I didn't think so. 

You can listen to and download the In Spite of Ourselves cover on Typhoon's bandcamp page. It might be that perfect, last-minute addition to a gifted Valentine's Day mix. Catch Wild Ones as one of the opening acts on Typhoon's latest tour. 

The Bickett Residency by DeYarmond Edison

Musically, I'm in a lull. I want to blame the early months of the year, as the releases I'm anticipating most aren't quite rolling out. In these periods, I like to seek out rare or under-appreciated music from my favorite artists. Sometimes, I find something new to me that I love, or sometimes I just enjoy listening to an album I don't constantly have streaming in my life. Also, it's Thursday and we all know that means one thing: Throwback time.

A little over a year ago, I became intrigued by Justin Vernon's other projects despite never being a huge fan of Bon Iver. DeYarmond Edison, a predecessor band to Megafaun/ Bon Iver/ Field Report/ The Shouting Matches were right up my alley. With only their youngest release, Silent Signs, on Spotify, I was desperate to hear more of their americana, heavy-leaning-country sound. Their self-titled album, released in 2004, is one of my favorite releases involving Vernon.

Shortly after that first album, in 2005, DeYarmond Edison, was invited by The Bickett Gallery, in Raleigh, North Carolina to be an "Artist In Residency". Using the time to reinvent themselves and the band by honing in on their individual strengths and weaknesses, one of the results was a two-hundred CD pressing of their recordings at the gallery. The Bickett Residency is a true gem: absolutely raw and brilliant but nearly impossible to track down a physical copy. Luckily for Vernon and DeYarmond Edison fans alike, between the tracks being on Grooveshark and the kind upload by tallestfoxes to Youtube, the documentation of those four sessions in Spring 2005 is accessible to nearly everyone.

I have a feeling I'll end up covering most of Justin Vernon's other projects as time goes on. Check out my first JV-related entry on J.D. Vernon's Home Is here.

Talk Is Cheap by Chet Faker

Valentine's Day is approaching. I'm in the camp that doesn't mind the holiday, despite how many single ones I've had. Two years ago, I was newly broken up with that dude who I moved across the country for, and spent the time hanging out in the (surprisingly packed) gym. Last year, I had major butterflies and magic feelings for a guy who I had started quasi-seeing only a few days before. We weren't even dating yet and he loathed the holiday. I was still giddy over the prospect. This year, I am seeing an amazing guy who is actually making the effort. This is new territory and a new relationship for me and I'm pretty excited to see what comes to fruition. 

When thinking about budding romances this holiday, if I were to make a mix, it would open with this sexy, but wise, new track from Chet Faker, Talk Is Cheap. Between the saxophone so smooth that I'd let it take me home from the bar and the sultry lyrics, my brain lights up when I hear this song start to play.

However, there are some important lessons to learn here, especially as I build upon new relationships."Talk is cheap my darling, when you feel right at home". How true is this? Whenever I am comfortable with my feelings, it's always easier to make promises than it is to deliver on them. Since there's trust or history built in already, a slipped promise doesn't seem as big of a deal. 

"I want to make you move with confidence. I want to be with you alone", is another sentiment worth drawing attention to. More so than anything, I believe one of the biggest foundations for success is the ability to inspire confidence in a partner and in yourself. Creating a comfortable and safe emotional environment (a home), while possibly encouraging those slipped promises above, allows room for inevitable mistakes and human flaws. 

Honestly, I wasn't expecting this latest release to make me pause and think these things over. That's the beauty of music.

Listen to Talk Is Cheap below. Join me in anticipating the debut LP, Built On Glass, available April 11th. Hopefully, Faker's wisdom will be present throughout the album. 

[Local] [Weekend Video] DC USA By Ugly Purple Sweater

I've been living in the actual bounds of DC for the past seven months, in between Columbia Heights and U Street. 14th Street restaurants, fancy fitness studios, un-affordable rent, hipster flair and obnoxiously-marketed apartment buildings are increasingly becoming the norm. Head east and Bloomingdale and Shaw are heading down same path that U Street did a few years ago. Head north and friends are already being priced out of upper Columbia Heights and even Petworth. Where is the next spot for gentrification and should this continue to happen? I think about the evolving neighborhood climate of DC on a regular basis and I've only been in the metro area a year and a half.

DC USA by Ugly Purple Sweater was a song that made a statement about gentrification, alluding to the garish mall in the dead center of Columbia Heights. With lyrics of neighborhoods losing their character and long time residents being forced out, it was an honestly realistic track about the city we occupy.

The music video is one I remembered tonight. I could loop it over and over, recognizing more row houses and Columbia Heights landmarks with each view. DC USA is obviously prominent but the interactions at 14th and Columbia afterwards truly capture the difference between the past and present neighborhood.

Ugly Purple Sweater, unfortunately, retired at the end of last year. Listen to their songs on bandcamp still and catch the video for DC USA below.



Will I be part of the eventual mass exodus to make Brookland or Trinidad the next hip area? Who knows. While the prospect of an affordable studio is intriguing, my conscious is wary.

Do The Right Thing by AgesandAges and Dirty Flag by Arkomo

What is your ideal concert ticket? I must admit, I cannot be more excited for Lady Lamb the Beekeeper opening for Typhoon in March. Last year I promised myself I would see Lady Lamb in concert if she ever swung by DC, but with Typhoon, one of my favorite bands? I am crawling in my skin with anticipation. While DC often gets great lineups, the Pacific Northwest is a mecca of amazing bands who all seem so supportive of each other. It's common for me to writhe in envy when I see some of the shows gracing Seattle's presence. Modern Kin with Radiation City? Cataldo with Hey Marseilles? I wish.

Portland's AgesandAges is following up 2011's Alright You Restless, with a new album, Divisionary, set to release on March 25th. I'm currently stuck on their current single, Do The Right Thing. While I found the song almost obnoxiously preachy upon first listen, I decided to listen again. For some reason, this song has a knack for hitting the right heartstrings and cultivating earworms. There's a simple lesson the song is trying to convey: "do the right thing, do it all the time, make yourself right, never mind them, don't you know you're not the only one suffering." The lyrics are a mantra that will not leave my mind. With a large-band, pop-folk sound, that anyone could find easy to listen to, in addition to the positive moral taught, I vote everyone streams this track and uses it as inspiration in their day to day lives.

AgesandAges is heading up north to Seattle on January 19th to play with Typhoon and on February 28th for an album release show. The opening act for the album release show is Arkomo, whose track Dirty Flag, is another heavily played song in my current rotation. See, Seattle really does get the best power lineups.

Dirty Flag is experimental without being hard to connect to. While not normally my style of music, delicate harmonies, soft beats and too many techniques to count keep the song fresh and unique. Picturing a flag, slightly dampened with age, waving in the air, sometimes smoothly, sometimes jagged, could be thought of as an accurate visual description. Arkomo is a solo project from Sam Anderson, who is the cellist in Hey Marseilles, among other Seattle area  music projects. Obviously, Anderson has a wide range of talent and it's great to hear something so different.

Listen to Do They Right Thing on Soundcloud and Dirty Flag on Soundcloud or Bandcamp. If you're in the Seattle area, catch the two at their show on February 28th at BARBOZA.
 

This Is The River by Fair Oaks

I am so over the Polar Vortex. Temperatures in the teens are far too cold for this mild-weather-loving Seattle girl to handle. Hell, I'd almost take back DC Summer of 2012, with it's one-hundred-degrees, can't walk two blocks outside without keeling over, miserable, heat and humidity. Can spring be here already? This weekend was an unfair tease, especially while being sick inside.

Currently, I'm away from the frigidness with a cup of coffee and the album, This Is The River by Fair Oaks. Recently released in mid-January, this was an undertaking that was three years in the making and by golly does it sound that way. Taking inspiration from the Mississippi River, This Is The River, hinges the gap between the seasons and is a perfect segway into the spring. I can't help but reminiscence about past warmer weather adventures too: patio brunches, street festivals, outdoor markets, bookstore hops, and picnics. Add in a little vintage charm and I've done as good as I can describing the appeal of this album.

With a twee pop folk sound, accompanied by the occasional trumpet and french horn, led by dueling male and female vocals, the best two comparisons to Fair Oaks I could offer up would be Del Water Gap or Aiden Knight. However, there's a little bit of Radiation City with the retro glam, some Typhoon when I hear the trumpet blare, The Research when songs are especially twee and a lot of other folk and/or alternative influences that strike me at short, random instances.  I haven't enjoyed an album so multidimensional and so full of pleasant surprises in a long time.

The album starts out with a rolling folk sound, with See What the Sun Gave. If there's anything that can persevere through the cold, this song is likely it. The piano and harmonies from both the male and female vocalists, create the sunny feeling one would find from a Slow Club track. Coming Through gives off a much more old-time blues vibe at first but flows into lush harmonies and trumpet backings. This Is The River (I, II, III) is seven minutes long and is an enchanting love letter to the Mississippi.

Duluth (Pull Me Into Your Soul) and Omaha (You Give Me The Feelings), are also love letters to their respective midwest cities. With Omaha, there's this light happiness that reminds me of some of Cataldo's work on Prison Boxing, a very high praise in my book. I like the comparisons the lyrics put forth: Omaha gives the feelings to help get along but alcohol kicks in the shins and chases down the hall. What are they saying? Is Omaha a better drug for releasing that carefree attitude that comes with drinking or does Omaha inspire the foolish drunken tendencies in the first place? I may never know but I always smile (and dance a bit) when I play this track.

Listen to This Is The River on bandcamp and while you're there, purchase the album. For a hard copy, the album is available in the band's store. While it is early on in the year, I already have my first contender for album of the year.
 

[Mix] I Bleed Emerald and Blue

I'm about an hour away from throwing on my Seahawks shirt and partaking in a little Superbowl party with friends. This is serious business, guys. My homecity hasn't experienced a major championship sports win since 1979, courtesy of the Seattle Supersonics, a team that is no longer ours. After a humiliatingly depressing loss in 2006 in the Superbowl to the Steelers, I'm crossing my fingers and dotting my I's that the Seahawks prevail tonight.

Outside of a fantastic sports team, Seattle is home to an astonishingly amazing music scene, one I miss every.single.day. While every other music blogger is hosting Superbowl-themed posts today, they're mainly just featuring Macklemore & Ryan Lewis. I know. Is that what Seattle music has been defined to? Don't get me wrong, I love myself some Macklemore, but there are endless artists that also deserve a little recognition while Seattle is on everyone's mind.

1. No Ordinary Cavemen by Head Like A Kite

2. Dead of Night by Hey Marseilles 

3. Seer by Motopony

4. Fireworks at Night by Campfire OK

5. Honest Songs by Noah Gundersen

6. She Was Only In It for the Rain by Rocky Votolato

7. Beacon Hill by Damien Jurado

8. Uptown by The Local Strangers

9. Get On That Train by Bradford Loomis

10. Changing by The Moondoggies

11. Reservoir Park by The Dutchess & The Duke

12. Turn Off This Song and Go Outside by The Lonely Forest

13. Some Postman by The Presidents of the United States of America

14. Reach Out and Touch Someone's Hand by Cataldo

15. Windowsill by Pickwick

16. The Town by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis

17. River of Love by U.S.E.

[Local] Black Checker, Grand Piano and The Fed @ The Wonderland Ballroom

Two big goals this year: discover more local music and see more local shows. While I am forever on the hunt for the DC folk scene (which does, absolutely, exist), the district is home to many fantastic bands that fall way outside of this genre. In a city known for gogo but with a large punk rock and dance pop presence, I would be missing out if I limited my love for local music to just the folk bands.

Bar shows are criminally underrated as activities within my circle of friends. Occasionally, I can rally the troops and get enough people out to support great bands playing our usual haunts. Solly's, Wonderland, Looking Glass Lounge and The Pinch are all favorites of ours, yet we rarely partake in the shows that grace these venues' stages.

Last Thursday, I gathered up a crowd of friends to see Black Checker, Grand Piano and The Fed put on a no-cover show at Wonderland. With tacos before at El Chucho, the night felt like a celebration of what makes our neighborhood area such a great place to live.

The Fed opened first. While I've never personally been to one of their shows, they seem to be an institution around here, playing shows in Ward 1 on a regular basis. Described as a blend between blues and punk rock, their sound is one anyone could really appreciate.

Grand Piano, a rock and roll band with many influences, played next. The Pittsburgh band killed it on stage, as all of a sudden the crowd at Wonderland was dancing along to their sax-heavy tracks. This band sort of caught us off guard too. Were they heading in a ska direction? Earlier on in the set, we said no but as the songs continued, we definitely felt a ska vibe. In my opinion, that is never a bad thing. Even without heavy vocals, there was an endearing distinction between their short songs. A few songs were played off of their latest Bug EP, including Army Ants, Lighting Bug and Lady Bug that really charmed the group over. At this point in the night, I felt like I had won. My friends were enjoying the music and there was hope bar shows could be a regular activity for us.

Of course, the band I was anticipating the most was Black Checker, a local pop punk rock outfit. Their EP, Fast, released during the end of 2013, was streamed many times while I was hiding out in rural Virginia for work. In my opinion, there's nothing quite like a little local music to ease the homesickness and this show reminded me why I love being in DC so much on the weeknights. Despite being the last band on the ticket, at 11PM on a weeknight, the crowd was still flush with excitement and engagement. Black Checker played most (if not all) of the EP, including my favorite track, Bagel Girl.

After the show, this thought still remains: will we ever know which local bagel shop barista inspired Bagel Girl? I don't know. If we're looking at quirky bagel shops in the area, my guess would be a girl from So's Your Mom, in Adams Morgan.

All in all, this (coupled with a few whiskey sours) was a good way to spend a Thursday night in this city. I'm looking forward to hopefully catching Black Checker again at The Velvet Lounge sometime in March and just attending more local shows in general.

[Weekend Video] Island by Wyatt Overman (Live Basement)

This album was recorded over the span of two winters. In basements & bedrooms.

Go fifty miles from the nearest city and step outdoors. Whether the terrain is mountainous, a desert wasteland, covered in trees, or sprawling with flat country, the effect remains the same. A breath of fresh air, a step away from civilization and all of a sudden we're confronted with our clearest thoughts and greatest demons. With certain songs and certain albums, I can recreate this feeling just by pressing play. Two Winters, by Wyatt Overman is one of those albums.

As much as I've tried to find the right words to pair with Two Winters, words that could convey even the slightest brilliance the album brings to listeners, I've given up beyond what I've written above.

In a dark basement, fitting to the album's tagline, Overman performs Island with a raw passion and beauty that I didn't think could be more memorizing than the original song. With cuts to picturesque scenes of nature, juxtaposed with the dimly lit basement cave, the video presents this trapped-in-the-open feeling that pairs perfectly with Island's lyrics.

Stream Two Winters on Overman's bandcamp page.

 

[Local] The First Few by The Ripples

My alma-mater, The University of Washington, was attended by a slough of musically talented individuals who would later be part of Seattle's greatest bands (Sound Garden, The Long Winters, Macklemore & Ryan Lewis, Hey Marseilles, PUSA to name a few). With other universities in the general Seattle area, such as The Evergreen State College, Seattle University, Seattle Pacific University and The University of Puget Sound, the Seattle-Tacoma area of Washington State is not short on a creative music scene. Because I moved to DC after college, I often forget about the universities in the district. Georgetown, George Washington, and American, among others, also cultivate musical talent and bring a young livelihood to this city.

Although I wouldn't pigeon-hole them as a "college band", The Ripples, a new folk-rock band, is mainly composed of current students at Georgetown University. To say I'm impressed with their debut album, The First Few, would be an understatement.

The album opens up with Dorothy, a track that immediately tells the listeners which direction this album is heading in, "Midnight, comes around, the day you turn 19. Bags packed, you're ready, cab’s revving in the street." There's a coming to age theme yet the music accompanying the lyrics sounds more mature, in a good way. The energy of 1960's rock and the use of much harmonica will be a common thread as the album progresses.

Woke Up In Mexico, bringing in a more airy sound, turns the whisky from Dorothy into tequila. What I find fascinating is the liquors referenced in both songs actually describe the overall feeling put forth. Listeners will also find fantastic songwriting with clever metaphors to be another foundational aspect of The First Few.

The track I can't stop listening to is Portrait, which is an even-keel, balanced-sounding song throughout. Here, I like to hone in on the lyrics which reminisce on old times with family and friends using painting metaphors - brushes, strokes, and the richest of colors. This isn't the last time we get an art metaphor in this album, an upbeat track, Picasso makes use of the Spanish artist. I'd like to see more art and art history references in folk music - it's a nice change of pace.

Frankie's Song is impeccably composed, with a take on smooth jazz, that surprisingly sounds from California than anywhere else. This is a good example of the interesting characterization The Ripples feature in their tracks. Frankie sounds equal parts frustrating and endearing, but listeners get a good feel for the type of person she is at the core.

Listen to The First Few on bandcamp, soundcloud or spotify. Support Georgetown's newspaper and radio station by checking out their write ups on the album at The Hoya and the WGTB blog. You can catch The Ripples, with a few other local acts, at Rock and Roll Hotel tonight (tickets here).

A Marriage In The Dark by Night Beds

I can't help but to follow Bree Ryback of Capitol Romance on her blog and on Twitter. As an alternative wedding coordinator for DC area couples, she posts the most adorable weddings, ideas and engagement sessions! While I am no where near to being engaged or married, it's always a little bit of sunshine reading about local area couples in love who made it to the end of the aisle but to the beginning of a life together.

One of my favorite parts of Capitol Romance is Bree's series: Wedding Music That Doesn't Suck. Let's face it, I have a spotify playlist that is constantly updated, titled: "secret wedding playlist". Oh yes. I am already curating that perfect list of songs that will carry me through one of the biggest days of my life. While some girls have their wedding pinterest boards, I have this and I'm not even (that) ashamed.

Bree already has a few of my favorite contenders covered: Ends of the Earth by Lord Huron, 5 Years Time by Noah and the Whale, Thunder Clatter by Wild Cub, San Francisco by the Mowgli's, It's Nice to Be Alive by Ball Park Music, and so many more. She, obviously, has an amazing taste in music and I'm sold. While I'm in this sappy mood (currently, a few glasses of wine in at Busboys & Poets), I want to share the newest addition to my "secret wedding playlist".

A Marriage In The Dark by Night Beds is a track off of Night Beds EP, a harder to find release from Winston Yellen, who posted the link to download the EP on his Twitter a few weeks ago. I must say, the six tracks on this EP are some of my favorite work from Yellen and from the folk genre in general.

After a scratchy, old-fashioned, dramatic opening, A Marriage In The Dark is a stunningly beautiful song that stands just as grand without music, as a poem or a reading. With alternating rhyming schemes that switch up as the song progresses, this song will not escape my thoughts and wistful daydreams.

In your wedding gown
Is how he sees you now
A life to be found
In your wedding gown

Keep your picture in my shoe
Stomp my feet just to feel you
Come look at what we've found
Our hearts lying on the ground

Come on lets get married
We are more than ready
Come on lets get married
Tell me when you're ready 

What I find most fascinating about this song is how Yellen was able to evoke such honest, good-natured, loving emotions among "basements, a lot of alcohol, a lot of irreverent tuning but not that much need for talk" during the earlier stages of Night Beds. Catharsis the song may be, but I can't help but believe (hope) the story he is singing has a happy ending for him.

 

Chapters by Marshall Lewis

I'm no stranger to loving contemplative songs surrounding the issues of maturing, moving on, growing up or the passage of time. Before anyone casts judgement my way, I'm in my early twenties and music is my biggest but least obnoxious quarter-life crisis outlet. Instead of pouring my thoughts out in controversial or annoying Thought Catalog type lists, I have playlist after playlist of reflective but almost sulking tracks that feel right in this period of my life. 

Chapters by Marshall Lewis is a song I have been waiting months to have in my rotation of reflection-provoking music. Back in the early days of District of Folk, I wrote about Marshall Lewis' song, Step Into My Life (Restless) because I was so dearly impressed. At the time, he was just eighteen but already drawing rightful comparisons to Dallas Green of City and Colour. With Justin Vernon and Sufjan Stevens as other inspirations, he's setting a high bar for himself to live up to. Yet, somehow, that bar seems attainable the more I hear. 

Don't get me wrong, I will always love the early work from Marshall Lewis. However, I can't help but be excited for the direction his music is moving towards. Chapters has a beautifully polished sound and wisdom that puts him on a level playing-field with the big names in the genre. The brooding lyrics paired with the emotive vocal chords and soft guitar may fit the cookie-cutter mold of radio-bound folk, but beneath the surface Chapters offers so much more. 

I've been rooting for Marshall Lewis for seven months now and I will continue to do so. He strikes me as wise beyond his years and gives off good-natured vibes that will appeal to a broad spectrum of fans. Chapters only affirms these thoughts.

Listen to Chapters on Soundcloud or Spotify. I truly think this is a folk gem that everyone could appreciate. If low-fi electronica is more of your thing, the remix by Ianborg & Bronze Whale is also worth a listen. 

Coffee by Sylvan Esso

We've made it to Friday afternoon. This week was only a little bit hectic. The DC area experienced the closest thing to a real snowstorm in years. With slushy streets and frozen temperatures well in the single-digits, the Polar Vortex 2.0. came, saw and conquered. I went stir-crazy working from home two days in a row and came back to the office to deliver an hour long presentation (my first!). Last night was a late night with friends. It's 1:45PM on Friday and I can finally breathe this week.

While I'm tempted to walk over to Starbucks for a 2PM coffee fix, I'm holding steady for now and playing Sylvan Esso on repeat.

Where have we heard Sylvan Esso before? In September the due opened for Volcano Choir where I was immediately enamored and vowed to catch them again if they ever headlined. With lush vocals and catchy dance beats, Hey Mami and Play It Right were streamed to the point of wear. Sadly, up until now, these two songs and their concert sets were about the only material coming forth. I bought tickets to see them at DC9 on Tuesday -- where/when else would I hear more of their music?

Today is a great day, as a new track, Coffee, was released yesterday. Coffee is more mellow than Hey Mami or Play It Right but that's not a bad thing. In fact, I'm relieved that the band can execute perfect dance anthems and more quiet pop. I can't help but to notice and love the percussion here - especially how much the xylophone stands out.

"Get up, get down" is repetitive. It's almost as if the entire song is composed of just that line. Coffee, as a substance, does bring us up until we reach the epitome of a mid-day high and subsequently crash hard. Coffee, as the song, is gentle. The more I listen, the better I feel but it's a very gradual climb.

Listen to Coffee on bandcamp. If you're in the DC area, I highly reccomend attending their show at DC9 on Tuesday, with local artist, PLOY. Come say hi. It's going to be a great time.

Salt by ear to the ground/ Salt by Wyatt Overman

Between being raised in a non-religious family and my tendency to be oblivious to idioms, I didn't know what the phrase the "salt of the earth" meant until a few months ago. The "salt of the earth" are those humble, unpretentious, just good people who are appreciated, loved and respected by all. This makes sense, as salt has been used metaphorically to represent loyalty, value and purification in the Bible and was a coveted mineral in ancient times.

The genre of folk is no stranger to religious undertones and harsh self-awareness. When the two are combined, dramatic symbols, such as salt, convey the woes of judgement, regret and disappointment.

Representing yet another idiom, ear to the ground is a project by Frank Hurkmans, based out of Utrecht in the Netherlands. While the music is a little rough around the edges, there's a lot of emotion and genre-blending wrapped up in the six-track self-titled EP. Salt, makes direct use of the "salt of the earth" idiom: "the salt of the earth I never was". This is in response to a judgement day, a once-promised future and the inevitable new start that comes with disappointing the ones cherished, "when August ends, I'll start all over again".

On the other hand, there's Wyatt Overman, who released this album, Two Winters, that I can't get enough of. This is an album so delicate, so fragile, so brilliant that I keep trying to write words to describe my feelings and constantly feel like I'm falling short. His Salt is much more indirect but conveys the theme of judgement and "salt of the earth" just as well as ear to the ground did. Here, there is a different take. Overman challenges his cherished one, "darling please, please listen to yourself. Who they hell have you become?" He mocks when he doesn't quite believe the words she has spread that they "are the salt, in/and the undertow", when in reality, their unit is falling to pieces.

You can listen to ear to the ground and Wyatt Overman over on their respective bandcamp pages. Listen to both takes on this classic idiom and think about those you consider to be the "salt of the earth". Or, live up to the expectations set forth and survive the judgement that will follow.

Only Time Will Tell (Demo) by Neal Martin Amundson

I have a soft spot for demos. In a way, a musician is trusting listeners with their vulnerabilities. These are honest words, the visions of a single song-writer or the few members of a band, and a raw sound that truly captures an artist's abilities. Sadly, while demos can be the bridge between recording songs in a bedroom and the possibility of mainstream success, it can be difficult to track them down. Nowadays, with sites such as bandcamp, soundcloud and the easy ability to upload songs for the world to hear, so many talented individuals are coming forth. There are the songs and albums recorded in basements, in living rooms, with family, with friends... Songs and albums that are so homegrown and so outstanding. These songs and these albums are the reason why I blog.

The current demo stuck in my head is this track, Only Time Will Tell by Neal Martin Amundson. To be honest, this is another Reddit find. Much like how Matthew Fowler posted Beginning once upon a time, "CrispyNeal" wanted r/indiefolk to take a chance on his music. I went for it.

Only Time Will Tell appears to be a coming of age/ moving on story that is stark and realistic. I'm not sure what Amundson's background is, but these are insights one usually only has after moving away from home, betting on yourself, and following your dreams. The song starts out steady but with no hook. Usually, I know I'll love a song after a few seconds. I almost gave up until the chorus changed everything,"but only time will tell, if I'm across the state line and living well. Well, they say that's what passion's for, stepping out and seeing more. So, kick me passionately out the door." These wise words are consistently stuck in my head as of late.

Listen to Only Time Will Tell on soundcloud and marvel at how great the music climate is these days.

Mix: The World Takes (Winter 2014)

(jumping on the seasonal playlist bandwagon)

Winter is here. I'm shivering with every step away from my apartment building door and huddling indoors as much as I can. There's no sign of summer anywhere, even if we were blessed with those two seventy degree days last week. I'm ready for the hibernation. Give me cuddling and netflix over heading out to the bars any night now. 

This season will pass quickly. There's my looming trip to Colombia on the horizon and pushing through the last few weeks of an out-of-town work project. With any luck, Spring will be here upon our arrival back from abroad. I'm not saying I want Winter to come and go, but it's by far my least favorite season. 

This mix flows well. I'm no longer pretending that songs fit together on a mix - these ones do. The artists represented here are both new and old loves. The cover art I whipped up is from a photo I took on the Amtrak up to Boston. I found the Lower Trenton Bridge to be intriguing and beautiful in its own way. 

1. City By The Sea - Fort Frances
2. Step Out - Jose Gonzalez 
3. If This Is Your Love - Andrew Austin
4. Feel For Me - Foy Vance
5. Will It Grow - Jakob Dylan
6. She Wants to Know - Half Moon Run
7. Cuckoo Song - A Silent Film
8. Holding On For Life - Broken Bells
9. Bad Kingdom - Moderat
10. Drop the Game - Flume, Chet Faker
11. You As You Were - Shearwater
12. Two Winters - Wyatt Overman
13. The Line - The Eastern Sea
14. Mask - Folly and the Hunter
15. Taft - Donovan Woods
16. Setting Our Tables - The Last Bison

Spotify 

Shadow of A Man by Neulore

In an era of acts such as Lord Huron, Wake Owl, Field Division, and even Local Natives, bands that blend folk with thunderously big harmonies, picturesque soul searching lyrics and a touch of dream pop are making the genre more accessible to everyone. I have this theory that, at least for a while, we've seen the last of new "Mumford" bands getting radio play. The move towards a more alternative or pop sound is sure to win out over campy, mandolin-laced tracks, in my opinion. 

Shadow of a Man by Neulore would be another move in that direction, speaking to the part of our instincts that aspire to go home after a period of wanderlust. While the band is composed of two guys (+ friends) from Nashville, I find the sound teetering between the forests of the Pacific Northwest and the deserts of the Southwest. However, according to their bio, the duo is focusing on bringing "heartfelt songs to the masses", the pursuit of wisdom, community and telling stories to their listens. Those sentiments are Southern.

In 2010, the two released Apples & Eve, and appeared to remain quiet for a period of time. Shadow of a Man was released in March this year, though tonight is the first time I've heard the track. What I find even more shocking is how this track appeared in an episode of Grey's Anatomy and it still completely slipped under my radar. With a record deal, TV placements, and new merchandise in 2013, 2014 is surely the year Neulore will strike even bigger. I can't wait for a full album release.

Listen to Shadow of a Man and give yourself hope that mainstream folk will proceed in this direction. The track is available to listen to and buy on bandcamp and soundcloud.

In Now And Then by Cataldo

CATALDO – LP4 COMING 2014 from Tyler Kalberg on Vimeo.

Eric Anderson, the multi-instrumentalist and lyricist behind Cataldo, knows how to craft albums with insanely brilliant songs about the trials and tribulations of life and love. Prison Boxing, released in 2011, features nine tracks with notions of hopeless romanticism, clever metaphors, and vivid imagery that has listeners both aspiring to find magic and staying realistic. I had this album on repeat for most of the year.

It was announced a few months ago that we'd see another album from Cataldo, Gilded Oldies, in the new year. I'm already anticipating this album to be one of my favorites of 2014. Unfortunately, March 4 is still two months away.

To hold us over, MAGNET Magazine premiered a track off of the album. In Now And Then stays true to Cataldo's distinct style and sound, yet also feels more mature. There's the opening piano and drum bit with a lush rhythm that has me tapping and nodding along. The trumpets are a treat that build up to the best instrumental portions presented in these three minutes. Lyrically, there's not as much to offer but I don't feel as if I'm missing out. "I'll be in now and then" continues with Anderson's apparent tradition of vague lyrics that are likely attributable to failed relationships. These emotions aren't trivial ones. "I'll be in now and then" could represent that sinking feeling in my stomach as I wander the streets of my neighborhood, anticipating the dreaded moment where I'll see an ex-boyfriend. Replace "Rebecca, Rebecca, Rebecca" with the name of any ex-boyfriend or girlfriend and this song just became easy to relate to.

Listen to In Now And Then over on MAGNET Magazine's online site. Join me as I count down the days until Gilded Oldies is released.