Last week I was absolutely inundated with the perfection that is Lana Del Rey from what seemed to be every aspect of my viral and real life (Thank you Ian/Twitter/blogosphere). Lana Del Rey is the sultry alias for this pouty-lipped, gorgeous creature that is New York singer-songwriter Lizzy Grant. She’s breathtaking and what’s even more she is talented; her single “Video Games” makes my heart hurt in the best way possible. With its sweeping strings and stripped down vocals, Video Games manages to evoke memories of the days I would worship at the altar of Cat Power/Fiona Apple. Her single is very reminiscent of the same brand of lazy, sexy, orchestral pop those ladies created that provided the soundtrack to my breakups and hangups. It is no wonder that I was immediately obsessed with Lana Del Rey, as well. I’d throw myself happily into emotional turmoil if it meant more tracks like this would suddenly appear in my realm of existence.
“Video Games” will be released with its b-side, “Blue Jeans,” by Stranger Records on October 9th.
and here’s the mp3 so you too can put it on repeat forever and let your heart break a little.
The massive over saturation of data in today’s society is daunting. Present technology affords us the luxury of having any piece of knowledge, any semblance of history and antiquity be it the military strategy of the Phoenicians or the import and exportation of domesticated horse semen. This ease of acquisition has changed the way we live, developed a dissonance simply by being over informed, and helped develop new forms of expression to the ones who take advantage of its virtues. Balam Acab is a sterling example of the latter aspect of the phenomena.
Alec Koone, the plainclothes moniker of Balam Acab, is notable for a few reasons. He’s the baby face of TRI▼ANGLE Records (a label which should be commended for both its austerity and its artists’ ability to both shudder your spine and lovingly massage your ears with their work), just a spry 20 years old, yet his keen and often ethereal skill with reworking samples render his age irrelevant. As his previous effort, the sumptuous See Birds EP proved, Balam Acab has an uncompromised direction for his music, devising bright R&B vocal samples into dark and distant cries for help, as accompanied strings and bass laden drums trap you in places unknown, unfamiliar and at times both haunting and poignant. It’s hip-hop for the ketamine crowd, witch house for the downer-induced, dance music for the crowds utterly sick of high BPMs. And it’s gorgeous. Continue reading “Balam Acab – Wander/Wonder”→
Preface: Many of you might have wondered what had become of Lipstick Communism, it’s dormancy leaving a harsh cry in the ears of its several dozen readers, its absence a bitter aftertaste of those who reveled in the opinions of a small few. Never mind our MIA status, we’re back with sincere apologies and I myself have returned after a bitter bout of writer’s block which lead to the dark annals of alcoholism, only to emerge with a tragic and besmirched worldview. And that just makes for better reading.
New York based dance-punk trio The Rapture played a major role in the whole post punk revival that was oh so popular in the early “aughts,” a scene that took a raw propensity and married it to the more electronic and dance elements that took hold of the 80’s and early 90’s and nearly strangled them. Whether this is something to be admired or cursed, The Rapture helped form a sound that was ruthlessly beaten like a horse just out on to the tracks, barely even able to consider a suitable place to die. But The Rapture did it in absence of conviction and with a desire to hold every instrument hostage until they got as much fun as they wanted out of it, lest we forget the all-too-important free jazz sax solos. In the Grace of Your Love, the third LP release from the band and a heart-warming return to the James Murphy DFA Empire Inc. should mark a union of the scratchy, rambunctious scatter shots that Echoes made you swoon over with the almost-too-polished-shoe-shined-dance-floor romps of Pieces of the People We Love. What ends up coming from five years of work and a brutal cowbell neglection is a band in an identity crisis, an album that the late Annie Lennox, were she alive, would probably soil her knickers over (RIP Annie Lennox, who is definitely, indisputably no longer alive.)
It’s the most wonderful time of the yeaarrr….almost. Coachella season is OFFICIALLY here and so is my annual Chellz Survival Guide (find last year’s here). I am ready for the heat, the pain, the crowds, the over priced booze, and ready to try and face my fear of porta potties (fingers crossed). I am also ready to find Unicorn Girl again, DON’T LET ME DOWN LADY. Now that I am a well-seasoned veteran (hahah yeah right) I feel it only fair to pass on some pearls of wisdom for the Summer music festival goer this year. Things like:
1. Remember to pre-party. Unless you enjoy paying $9 for a fuckin Heineken or $10 for the sweetest margarita you will ever guzzle down (which leaves you with little more than a sugar high and a sticky mouth), sneaking booze in or keeping a steady supply of libations in your car or campsite is ardently suggested.
2. Don’t forget a sweater/hip cardigan and sunblock. The desert gets real cold at night y’all, a mistake I learned firsthand at our first Chella night as I practically froze my romper-clad bum off. And unless you are all blessed with the bronzed goddess-like tan I so easily acquire upon standing in the sun for 2.5 seconds, you’re gonna want to protect yourself from some tomato red tinged pain and shame.
3. Hydrate. Don’t forget to drink water! Excessive sun exposure + inevitable children almost overdosing on ecstasy should probably lead me to change this to #1 but I am, of course, too lazy to hit backspace in this bitch.
4. Baby Wipes. I don’t think this one needs any further explanation.
5. Set up a rendezvous point for you and your fraaands. You will have limited to pretty much zero cell reception so when you do break away from your group always have a meeting spot and check in times so you’re not left all alone, like a creep. This lone state will lead to super freaky lurkers or free love hippies trying to recruit you into their masses. Remain vigilant.
Anyways onto the good stuff and the only reason you have subjected yourself to my ramblings. Here is my compilation of the artists I am most excited about seeing this weekend. Hard, Sophie’s Choice-esque decisions will have to be made to fit in the maximal amount of musical goodness, I fear.
Dog Is Dead is a name that has been floating around languidly on the interwebz for about a year now, and it is a shame that the band hasn’t burst out in a horn-filled explosion for everyone to clamor over…yet. I believe this will be they year that that all changes for these 5 British babely boys. Hailing from Nottingham, these barely 20 year olds sound like they have been playing and harmonizing together for decades now. Their energetic brand of indie pop will grab you from the get-go and keep you wanting more.
From the moment I heard Dog Is Dead’s “Glockenspiel Song” I have not been able to get it out of my head. It resonates and bounces along in there until I am in a maddeningly good mood. It will make you want to grab your friends, run across a field, and proclaim “WE ARE A MESS, WE ARE FAILURES, AND WE LOVE IT!” and you will mean it, but like in the best way possible.
My reason for internet living, Cyndy G, asked me a question about a song a couple weeks ago, and I loved it but could not place it. So after hours of e-searching her brother figured out that it was Nottee’s “Young Modern Life” and we started to fall in love with her. I was also incredibly shamed that I hadn’t figured it out first, but we’ll save that for a future therapy session. Nottee is the moniker for 25 year old Swedish pop songstress Rebekka “Nonno” Drouggev (is it just me or is there something in the water in Sweden that makes them all so fucking awesome/gorgeous?) Nottee is no stranger to Swede music godliness, as she was playing bass in her brother’s band, Lo-Fi-Fnk (OMG), up until a few years ago. She makes songs that are tinged with Lykke Li’s great electro-pop sensibilities and Stevie Nicks-like vocals. “Young Modern Life” just sounds like carefree Summer afternoons, doesn’t it?
Last year, Andrew turned me onto the band Twin Sister and it was love at first listen. Little did I know that, months later, their songs would subtly stalk my life everywhere I turned.
If you know anything about me, you would know that I watch an inordinate amount of TV. I don’t care how embarrassing the show may be, I will probably watch it once. Now, that’s not to say that I have no discerning taste and will watch any shit they slap on the tube (read: MTV’s version of Skins). The shows I do love, however, I watch regularly and follow-up on religiously via ONTD. (secret confession: I’ve always been the biggest fan of the original UK version of Skins. I thought I would hate this new 3rd generation of characters, but it turns out I am absolutely OBSESSED with them. WATCH IT!)
Anyways, back to the topic at hand, the series (serieses? god i hate irregular plural nouns) I tend to find myself enraptured with almost always have amazing music directors or something because they are constantly playing songs from artists I adore. This particular Twin Sister track, “I Want a House,” has actually been stalking me I swear. I hear it everywhere, like most recently on an episode of Grey’s Anatomy and the aforementioned terrible episode of US Skins I had been subjected to.
Twin Sister is an indie-pop act made up of five super-cute-twenty-something Brooklynites (by way of Long Island). They have accurately been described as making “music that sounds like a secret.” Their songs are bathed in an aura of dreamy romanticism and rounded out with pleasantly sweet/airy vocals. They made waves by releasing two EPs (Color Your Life and Vampires with Dreaming Kids) for free-99 last year. And their first experience with a real studio brought us this luscious track, “Meet The Frownies.” Leaves you salivating for what their proper debut album will be like, huh?