Oooh that's my final jam

“Ampling Alp”-Yeasayer

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p4msowO5-h8

I first heard this song in my sister’s car last fall as we were driving to Target. Yeasayer describes their music as “Middle-Eastern-psych-snap-gospel”. It’s a mouthful, but an effective description of what they produce. They’re from Brooklyn, New York and they just released their first album a little over two years ago. Their music is experimental and sung from the soul. It’s the sound of deep slumber and restlessness at the same time. “It all started with a stumble/ and I get old and I get humble. / The sky cracked a million ways/ making me blind.” His voice is drawn out and lingers, echoing through the mind.
I love that this song has a simple message, yet a complex melody. “You must stick up for yourself son/ Never mind what anybody else done.” His voice is pleading, full of emotion, reaching out. Beats drop, trumpets are played, sounds clash and build on each other. There’s a virtue to be found in the intricacy of it all: Don’t worry about what every else is doing, do what you need to do. It kind of makes me think of my favorite novel, The Fountainhead, in that it’s the virtue of integrity and individualism; sticking up for yourself, not giving into the ways of others.

“Bankrupt on Selling” – Modest Mouse

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=00hQLZRz38Q

Modest Mouse formed in 1993 near Seattle Washington, releasing their first album, This is a Long Drive for Someone with Nothing to Talk About, in 1996. The next year, they released The Lonesome Crowded West, the album that “Bankrupt on Selling” appeared on. They aren’t much different than other alternative rock bands, but the message in their lyrics are unique in their ingenuity. “Bankrupt on Selling” isn’t sung conventionally smooth or melodic. Instead, his voice is cracked and broken as he painfully tells his story. It’s a song about anguish and distaste.
After two weeks of backpacking in the North Cascade Mountains this past summer, I heard this song for the first time. After fourteen days of Outward Bound we were finally allowed some trace of humanity- a guitar. Shai, my co-leader for the final two days, played “Bankrupt on Selling” as we all sat around camp, united for the last time. “Well I’ll go to college / and I’ll learn some big words / and I’ll talk real loud/ Goddamn right, I’ll be heard / You’ll remember the guy / that said all those big words / that he must’ve learned in college.” We all sat, together, for the last time before we all went separate ways- to college, to work, to whatever destiny had in mind. We made bracelets out of the tent wiring, as a souvenir of the hardships we endeavored, or as a memoir of the experiences we had. Yet, whenever I look at the fraying, orange bracelet around my left wrist, I don’t think about how hard those two weeks were, instead, I hear Shai’s somber voice singing as she played that guitar, and I remember that feeling right before a ship sets sail, outward bound.

“Bucky Little Wing”-Islands

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFGasfAouys&feature=related (Unofficial video that doesn’t include the five minutes of rain)

Five minutes of silence. Only sounds are that of falling rain and the occasional thunder. It’s a moment of silence. Then, what follows is a song dedicated to Bucky Little Wing, the childhood friend of Nick Thorburn, a member of Islands. Islands had been playing the song for a while, yet it wasn’t until it was put in their 2006 album Return to the Sea as a bonus track that I first heard it. It’s the recounting of an old friend, Charles, whose father died in a car and then a group of bullies at school pushed him in front of a moving truck. He survived, but after that day he was never the same: “Can’t believe that he survived / he was like a ghost after that day”. Islands are somewhat controversial, singing about topics others often avoid. The song, “Shining”, from their 2009 album Vapours is a song narrated by the psyche of a mugger. His singing is a mix between being sexual and threatening. He moans, “Bad timing for you/ one, two, three, four strikes on you / You put your back on my knife, / made me ask your money or you life”. Eerie, sexual, and unusual- that’s Islands for you.
I personally love Islands because I admire their originality and ability to discuss aspects of peoples’ lives that aren’t necessarily sung about or widely discussed. So, their songs about mugging someone, about when those racist kids pushed that kid in front of a truck, or about buying dope from a stranger, are all novel experiences. “You said don’t buy dope from a man you don’t know / I don’t know you won’t / Don’t get stuck in his pickup truck, / arm’s reach front seat / man you’re out of luck.” Their music differs so greatly from contemporary’s singing about love or the party life. I particularly like the song, “Bucky Little Wing”, because of the message I find in it. The way he sings the lyrics and plays the piano reflect that Nick still remembers his friend as he was before the crash. I can understand wanting to remember someone as they were at some other point in time, when they had a different identity, rather than what they’ve become. I also think its interesting commentary on how identity can be defined by someone else, perceived by how they remember actions the person once did.

“Daylight” – Matt&Kim

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZt1i1ruK34

After hearing the first second of this song, I knew it was going to be that song. That song that I could listen to no matter how horrible my day was, and feel completely better instantly, as cliché as that may be. Every key Matt plays on the piano is like a child laughing or the happy ending to a Jennifer Garner movie. It’s the sound of ultimate happiness or that moment when you feel like you might burst because you’re so excited about what’s ahead. Matt & Kim wrote this song after a sailing trip outside of Connecticut and I imagine that this song encompasses the feeling of sailing enveloped in daylight. They first began playing together in 2004 and their album, “Grand”, simply oozes energy. Matt and Kim met while they were at the Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, where they first appeared on the “dance punk” scene. Since, the two have gotten a substantial amount of publicity, appearing on MTV in the United States as well as Europe, playing on Jimmy Kimmel Live!, and also having “Daylight” used in several commercials, television shows, as well as The Sims.
To me this song is a sunny disposition, the consciousness in my mind that keeps me going. Having this melody engraved in my brain is the ultimate enemy against pessimism and negative energy. I feel like I can relate to their melody and lyrics. Upbeat, without compromising insight and complexity. “I miss yellow lines in my roads/ some color on monochrome”. A simple desire for something new, something different, to get out of the usual swing of things, yet the way it’s sung is as if he doesn’t care he’s stuck in a rut, because he knows he’ll get out of it. That’s how I want to be- not just simply being optimistic, but happily doing so. Jumping with joy, excited to see what else life has to throw at me. So, in many ways this song, this melody, and these lyrics represent an example for me to follow, a beat for me to march to.

“She Doesn’t Get It” –The Format

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6X-Uo8fFFs8

The Format was the first band I ever saw live and I probably could have died happily afterwards. Then, when they broke up six months later in early 2008 I was so heartbroken I almost died again. Every song from their 2003 album Interventions & Lullabies and 2006 album Dog Problems is perfect. The band originated from Arizona, pairing an upbeat melody with Nate’s scrawny voice singing about love and the sorrow that comes with finding it. Their music is a mix of alternative folk and power pop- imagine Bright Eyes if Conor Oberst was on Prozac. While The Format never reached an international status, it still has a large national fan base and has had a few songs put into television shows.
I heard this song almost four years ago and fell in love with it; it was upbeat and a perfect summer song. This song defines those moments where I just sang the whole drive home from school because I was so happy for it to be done with. It made the last few hours of the day bearable knowing that the car ride home would be awesome because I had that song to jam out to. The melody was light-hearted and upbeat, yet it was sung with such passion that I couldn’t stand to not sing along. After singing the lyrics so often, the message of each song sunk in and became part of my identity, making me see the world differently. Consequently, the Dog Problems album became a part of my day, and to this day I love rolling down the windows as I’m driving home via Highway 54 and singing along to this song.

“Sleepyhead” – Passion Pit

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zherMkcXdo

Passion Pit has been around since about 2007, releasing their first album Chunk of Change in 2008 and then their more popularly known album Manners in mid-2009. I think of their music as electronic poetry. “They couldn’t think of anything to say the day you burst/ with all their lions, and all their might and all their thirst.” A lot of their songs have a simply rhyming system, which I have to admit I enjoy. The word choice in the song is also immaculate. Rolling, tumbling words that coincide with the title of the song “Sleepyhead”.
I have a strange fascination with words where I just really love certain words; whether it’s the way the word looks or sounds, I’ll love the word regardless of its actual meaning. “-out through the doors/ Of your eyes, begonia skies like a sleepyhead, sleepyhead”. Begonia skies like a sleepyhead? That just sounds so perfect and precise, each word chosen carefully. Also, repetition is one of my favorite devices in poetry and it’s overtly present in the song. “And you said, it was like fire around the brim,/ burning solid, burning thin, the burning rim./ Like stars burning holes right through the dark.” I love the repetition, the simple rhyme scheme, and the carefully chosen words that fit so perfectly in the song.

“Tacobel Canon”-Ratatat

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3NawwqfkubI

In an interview, Ratatat defended their instrumental music by saying, “I think if you start putting lyrics in your music it limits things. [Ratatat is] just not interested in writing lyrics”. Therefore, since they’ve begun playing in 2001 under another name, Cherry, they’ve never used lyrics in their music. Their songs return to the original meaning of the word “music”, the music that existed before Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber. Telling stories through melody and beats, not just through words. Their song, “Tacobel Canon”, is a modern adaptation of Pachelbel’s “Canon in D Major”, which, if you’ve ever been to a wedding, you’ve heard. Instead of violins, they use electric guitars and a synthesizer. It’s nothing short of a Baroque wedding on Neptune.
I relate whole-heartedly to Ratatat. Their songs are capable of expressing emotions and ideas without verbally communicating. Instead, their music literally does the talking. Each song can take a person on a different journey every time. Because the lyrics aren’t set and the meaning of the song can be interpretive, the experience is always open to change. The song doesn’t become stale, because a person doesn’t have to listen to the same set lyrics every time. Ratatat provides the background music to a person’s imagination, allowing an independent and personal experience with each song. The music doesn’t limit the individual because there are no lyrics to serve as boundaries.

“That Beep” -Architecture in Helsinki

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hmieVoMeqZM

Favorite band of all time, hands down. Architecture in Helsinki is an Australian band that uses everything from handclaps to the glockenspiel to make their avant-garde sound. Their melodies are overly energetic, bursting with things to say. Their lyrics are nonsensical and dreamlike. “Do they mistake us / for an eight that’s turning into a nine?” The entire song is one gigantic, delicious metaphor, as is the rest of the In Case We Die album (released 2005).
I first heard this album when my second boyfriend burnt me the In Case We Die CD in 2008 and it immediately became, along with The Format and Ratatat, my favorite CD to listen to in the car. After listening to it until I couldn’t bare it any longer, Architecture in Helsinki released “That Beep”. “Dressed up as bubblegum/ I’m stuck to your shoe, let’s run.” I’m still in love with the lyrics and their unusual analogies.