Given that Doolittle is my favorite Pixies record I’m really quite torn regarding attendance of their upcoming show in DC. I don’t want to ruin the amazing memories I have from their reunion show in ATL. That show was positively magical and I had chalked it up to being the last time I would see Black Francis and the gang. I’m not sure I need to see them again, even if they are performing my favorite tracks.
A Blur documentary?! Hell yeah. (Kinda makes me wish I had attended the reunion show in LDN in 2009. Sigh.)
I usually star the Guardian’s “Band of the Day” picks in my Google Reader and go back and listen when I have time. The best one I’ve run across lately is Paul Lester’s pick of I Blame Coco, who just happens to be the daughter of Sting. Now, regardless of what you may think of Master Gordon Sumner or his myriad musical incarnations, his youngest daughter Coco, née Eliot Pauline Styler-Sumner, has an outstanding set of pipes. Like her father in his early days with the Police, she’s obsessed with reggae-inflected pop, but she sells it without a whiff of privilege because, well, of said outstanding pipes. In fact, I’ll go so far as to say she has one of the most intriguing voices I’ve heard in years. As evidence, I submit this rough super 8 video of her performing her best song “The Constant”:
The studio demo of “The Constant” probably showcases her voice better than the video, but I prefer the rawness captured in the video.
At the ripe age of 19, she has already assembled a rough and tumble image, pissing off Dad by associating with bottom feeders like Pete Doherty. I Blame Coco has signed a six-album deal with Island Records, which, I mean, yeah, it’s easy to assume this is merely because of who she is, but the few demos I’ve come across all sound like this girl knows what she’s doing.
Despite Paul Banks’ active promotion of his impressive solo debut, Julian Plenti is…Skyscraper, the fourth Interpol album is still on track for release in early 2010. Drummer Sam Fogarino has even alluded to its close relationship to Interpol’s darkly expansive 2002 debut, Turn on the Bright Lights, telling Paste Magazine, “In trying to move forward, there was an unspoken realization that you can’t let go of your sonic-defining tag.” An intriguing sentiment. While The Strokes argue over whether their new songs veer too far from the band’s core sound, Interpol is retreating back to familiar ground, which can get tricky. It’s difficult for a band to move forward while maintaining one foot in the past. At least calculatedly so. In some respects it’s only natural to maintain consistency, but it’s another story to try to recreate the zeitgeist of a career-defining sound. The cynical take is that this is purely to please fans and critics, who may have fallen off the band’s successive efforts, but as a fan of all three Interpol records, I’m willing to allow for the requisite benefit of the doubt.
Julian Plenti Tour Dates:
11/24 – Bowery Ballroom New York, NY
11/25 – Brooklyn Bowl Brooklyn, NY
12/02 – Academy Manchester, UK
12/03 – Scala London, UK
12/06 – Melkweg, Amsterdam, NH
12/08 – Cologne, DE Kulturkirche
12/09 – Berlin, DE Festaal
12/11 – Vienna, AT Arena Vienna
12/12 – Milan, IT Magazzini
12/13 – Paris, FR Alhambra Theatre Music Hall
My favorite piece of news in the past week is Beck’s musical response to that clueless buffoon from The Fiery Furnaces, who tried to insult Radiohead, blog-style, but missed the point completely. And in attempting to cover his ass retroactively, took a swipe at Beck. Well, Radiohead, in their lofty chairs of utter superiority, ignored the noise from the male half of a middling indie rock duo, but Beck took a measured swing and, of course, won handily.
As you may well be aware, Radiohead wrote and recorded a song a few months back as a tribute to Harry Patch, the last surviving UK veteran of World War I, who died at the age of 111. Well, dingus extraordinaire, Matthew Friedberger from the unlistenable duo The Fiery Furnaces, decided out of the clear blue to mock Radiohead for their tribute song. Except, he lambastes them for all the wrong reasons. See, Friedberger somehow mistakenly thought that Radiohead had paid tribute to Harry Partch, an American composer famous for his microtonal scales. He proceeded to trash Radiohead for their pretentiousness and calculated cultivation of cool. Except, whoops, wrong dude. Friedberger then released a confusing, self-mocking statement wherein he tried to make the whole thing sound like a deliberate joke. Never mind that it was awkward and, well, wrong. The last line of said statement is where it gets good: “Matt would have much preferred to insult Beck but he is too afraid of Scientologists.” So, ok, who doesn’t like a good Scientology joke? But the context of his snark just sounds like a desperate attempt to change the subject.
So, Beck quietly takes this all in and releases a tribute to Harry Partch, both defending Radiohead and dogging Friedberger in one fell swoop. Well played, sir.