Ray Charles

Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music

When Mrs. You Hear That goes out of town, things tend to get a little… how shall I put this… chaotic. Meals are timed irregularly. Bedtime drifts further and further into the morning hours with each passing night. And showers? Might as well have never been invented.

I followed each of these trends faithfully this past weekend, when Mrs. YHT was up in Pennsylvania, riding Hershey Park roller coasters with her younger cousins. True to form, not one drop of water passed through the showerheads at YHT headquarters all weekend, I stayed up late Friday and Saturday nights working on elements of a YHT site redesign (I can’t wait to show y’all!), and if it weren’t for a thing of trail mix I bought from 7-11, I probably would have starved to death by the time Sunday rolled around.

Does all this make me a degenerate whose development was arrested somewhere between the beginning and end of college? Some might say so, but I know better. I’ve listened to Ray Charles’ Modern Sounds in Country and Western Music enough times to understand the real truth: I’m just in love.

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Sidney Bechet

The above photograph has served as my desktop wallpaper since April, when I was getting all jazzed up for Record Store Day. I knew almost nothing about the photo when I right-clicked it and selected “Set as desktop background,” aside from the fact that it caught my eye, and that its generous pixel count made it good wallpaper material. I’ve looked at it either hundreds or thousands of times since, usually lingering on the style of the clothing, the apparent lack of record jackets, or the way the man on the left is draping his arm over the register.

I decided to do a little digging yesterday, and as it turns out, this picture was taken in 1947 at the Commodore Music Shop in Manhattan, and the suave-looking draper on the left is the store’s owner, a man named Milt Gabler. The son of Jewish immigrants, Gabler was a legend in the recording industry, having been the first person to deal in reissues, the first to sell records by mail order, and the first to give written credit to all the musicians who appeared on a recording. That last honor came from his time as a producer, during which he oversaw the recording of some of the most influential music of the twentieth century, including Bill Haley & His Comets’ “Rock Around the Clock.” Oh, and did I mention HE’S BILLY CRYSTAL’S UNCLE? Small world, right?

It got even smaller when I googled “Sidney Bechets Trio” — the only legible text on the flyer to the right of the clock above Gabler’s killer combover.

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Frank Ocean

Channel ORANGE

By now, I hope someone in your social media feed of choice has freaked out about how incredible Frank Ocean’s album Channel Orange is. If not, please, allow me.

While most Americans were celebrating our nation’s independence by grilling food, drinking beer and igniting small explosives, Frank Ocean was busy celebrating his own kind of independence. Praise for his July 3 coming-out Tumblr post has been rolling in ever since, from music critics, from Russell Simmons, from Ebony… nearly every corner of the Internet. The courage he’s shown in the face of homophobia has created that rare good kind of Internet shitstorm. The kind in which people are falling over one another to join an entirely righteous consensus. The kind that warms hearts, raises goosebumps, and makes you feel like the world is headed in the right direction.

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White Laces

Moves

When White Laces announced the release date of their upcoming album MOVES yesterday, they also posted a link to a Soundcloud preview of one of its tracks, a beautifully layered and rapturously roomy song entitled “Crawl/Collapse.” Good things are clearly coming our way on August 21.

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Delicate Steve

Positive Force

I love me some good marketing. I loved the promotion for Delicate Steve’s last album (which involved a hilariously fictional press release from the desk of Chuck Klosterman), and I love the way Steve Marion introduced the world to the songs that make up his upcoming release, Positive Force. On June 26, he had a committee of 11 musician friends (musiciends?) tweet links to individual tracks from the new album that had been uploaded to YouTube. Through this “Positive Force Friendship Stream,” each song got its own “premiere,” with YHT-beloved groups like Yeasayer, Ra Ra Riot, Yellow OstrichtUnE-yArDs, and Akron/Family joining in on the fun.

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Harmonimix

For the longest time, I had no idea that “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” was a Queen song. This totally blew my mind when I first found out. The song’s rockabilly simplicity and Elvis-tinged vocals scream 1959, not 1979 — the latter being the year Freddie Mercury reportedly penned the tune while lounging in a hotel bath tub. If I had to trace the emotional pathway that led away from this revelation, it would probably look a little something like this:

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Father John Misty

Fear Fun

I love Daytrotter. If this isn’t your first You Hear That rodeo, you may already know that. I believe wholeheartedly that it’s one of the best sites for music on the entire interweb. Actually, “site” doesn’t really do it justice; Daytrotter’s massive archive and mobile platform give it the feel of a streaming service like Spotify, except that it trafficks in exclusive live performances, each one with an incisive write-up and beautifully stylized in-house cover art. The $2-buck-a-month membership fee even grants you the ability to listen to these sessions being recorded, which is a really neat way to get behind the scenes and learn a little about the idiosyncrasies of performers’ personalities.

That being said, there’s a lesser-heralded aspect of Daytrotter that I enjoy almost as much as the site’s actual content: founder Sean Moeller’s twitter feed.

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Sun Kil Moon

Legislation and sausages. These are the things we’re not supposed to see made, lest we become too grossed out to enjoy them… but I’m not convinced. One of my good friends has gone on several tours of Smithfield meat packing facilities, and that dude still cooks one helluva pork butt. Hell, he cooked an entire pig last 4th of July, and from what I can remember (we started drinking cooking at like 5 something in the morning, and the pig was on the grill for a solid 12 hours), it was delicious!

In some ways, live music fits with that tired legislation/sausage axiom. The artist walks out onstage, the show happens, the crowd cheers, the artist disappears, the crowd goes home, and (excepting the superfans who travel with the band or try to get backstage) that’s that. There’s safety in that routine. Most concertgoers get to remember performers as conquering heroes who walked offstage to lusty applause, not as regular people who get heckled sometimes and feel lonely on the road.

But Sun Kil Moon’s beautiful new album, Among the Leaves, pulls back the curtain on Mark Kozelek’s life as a touring musician, with a bluntness that rivals a stroll through a Smithfield kill floor (yes, I most certainly am proud of having worked “beautiful” and “kill floor” into the same sentence).

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Wilco

The Incredible Shrinking Tour of Chicago

Do you like books, but find it to be complete bullshit that they don’t play songs and YouTube videos for you? Me too! I blame that a-hole, Johannes Gutenberg. Movable type? More like type that’s just sitting on there on the page, putting me to sleep. Amiright or amiright?!?

THANKFULLY, Wilco is here to save the day (they did say they’d love us, baby). The group has released an iBook entitled The Incredible Shrinking Tour of Chicago, documenting a 5-show mini-tour of their hometown that took place last December. The book is free of charge, and includes set lists, photos, audio from one performance of “One Sunday Morning (Song For Jane Smiley’s Boyfriend),” and a YouTube video of the band rehearsing “The Weight” with Mavis Staples and Nick Lowe. It’s a really slick experience, one well worth checking out, even if you weren’t in attendance at any of those 5 December shows.

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A Physical Playlist

The best music conversations are the ones that never really end. They live on in the reminders you enter into your phone’s notes application — a band name you don’t want to forget or the title of a documentary that needs to be added to your Netflix queue. They pick back up thanks to the follow-up emails, tweets and texts in which the recommendee shares a reaction with the recommender, or the recommender finally remembers the album name that a few too many beers spirited away. They leave traces, like the stack of records that flew out of the crate because they demanded to be played (you can only talk for so long about how Exile on Main St. was recorded before you’re morally obligated to put it on).

Mrs. You Hear That and I hosted some friends from out of town over the long holiday weekend (the same friends who clued me into Moon Hooch a little while back), and our many music conversations — exchanges about Exile, the George Harrison documentary Living in the Material World, Jack White’s Blunderbuss and the mention of King Sunny Adé in Pitchfork’s vicious Body Faucet review — are still bouncing around the front of my brain, just as surely as the above-pictured records are still leaning against the side of my TV stand.

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