Amy Winehouse

Frank

When I saw Sharon Jones a month or so ago, I learned that her band, the Dap-Kings, backed up Amy Winehouse on her album Back to Black and the subsequent U.S. tour. As I sat down to write about seeing Jones, who was spectacular, I thought about mentioning the Dap-Kings’ history with Winehouse, but I couldn’t. Just typing her name seemed too sad. At the time, she had just cancelled a European tour, due to her ongoing substance abuse problems, and it gave me no joy to juxtapose the two singers’ careers. The same feeling struck me over the weekend, when I heard she had died, and I considered writing a post about her. Just too sad. But to avoid writing about her now, as I did a month ago, would be a mistake. I’d be defining Winehouse by her struggles and premature death, instead of celebrating her immense talent, considerable influence and award-winning music. One of the most magical things about musicians, writers, filmmakers and artists of all stripes is that as troubled as they may be in their personal lives, by creating art, they put pieces of themselves out into the world — fleeting moments when they’re at their absolute best — and after these people are gone, we can look back on what they’ve created and soak in not just the beauty of a song or painting, but the beauty that lived inside the person who created it (I know this sounds a little Harry-Potter-horcrux-y, forgive me). With this silver lining in mind, I’d like to share with you one of my favorite songs from Winehouse’s first album Frank, called “Fuck Me Pumps.” In a hilarious critique of gold-digging women, this tune showcases her incredible voice as well as her incredibly witty songwriting, which doesn’t get the attention it deserves. Did you know she wrote or co-wrote most of the songs on her two outstanding albums? I didn’t until recently. Check out “Fuck Me Pumps” below, buy Frank here, and spend some time remembering Amy Winehouse at her best.

Pokey LaFarge

MIddle of Everywhere

Note to songwriters everywhere: if you want me to lose all objectivity and immediately love a song, just mention Richmond, VA. As of August, I will have been living in Richmond for 10 years, and I’m a sucker for songs that shout it out. Justin Townes Earle’s “Ghost of Virginia“? Yes, please. Old Crow Medicine Show’s “James River Blues“? A sacred hymn. I even give an ironic “Woohoo!” every time Levon gets to the part about Richmond falling in “The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down” (Is that bad? I really can’t tell, at this point). The latest song to win my heart by mentioning my beloved River City is Pokey LaFarge’sShenandoah River.” I came across the tune thanks to the fine people at NPR music — and not just because they’re currently streaming his upcoming album, Middle of Everywhere. I first heard about Pokey thanks to a Tiny Desk Concert he performed with his band, the South City Three, at Bob Boilen’s desk back in April. Of all the things I liked about that performance, his personality and (please forgive me for using this word) panache stood out the most, and it’s remarkable to hear how he managed to bottle that same charisma in the studio. Though his musical style reaches back to the Dust Bowl, his showmanship is timeless. His whimsical lyrics and delivery make you forget what year it really is, along with anything that may have been worrying you. After all, the Shenandoah River doesn’t actually flow through Richmond, but as the song explains, “It doesn’t matter now, for we could float forever.” Have a listen to a live performance of “Shenandoah River” below, and click here to listen to the album version, along with the rest of Middle of Everywhere.

Vetiver

The Errant Charm

I was recently having a craptastic day, and had resigned myself to the day’s craptastic trajectory when, out of the blue, I was thrown a life preserver in the form of an email from my friend Giselle. Inside was a link to a Rolling Stone-hosted preview of Vetiver’s new album, The Errant Charm, and in just a few minutes, my world was transformed. Ever since Giselle first told me about Vetiver a few years back, I’ve admired their knack for crafting folk songs that can fill a room with their ethereal depth. But this was different. The Errant Charm didn’t just fill a void — it lifted me out of my chair and took me somewhere more fun and relaxed than where I started. Listening to the the album makes you feel like you’re striking out on a hybrid road/beach/camping trip with a few of your best friends and Andy Cabic’s soothing voice narrating the whole adventure. Several days after my fist listen, “Ride Ride Ride” and “Wonder Why” haven’t stopped making me want to hit the road Easy Rider-style, and “Can’t You Tell” is still bringing a big, summer-time smile to my face. Best of all is the emotional connection I have with The Errant Charm, because I’ll never forget how it came into my life at just the right moment, thanks to a perfectly timed email. If you want to be happier than you are at this very moment, check out “Can’t You Tell” below or click here for the Rolling Stone preview that came to my rescue, and if you enjoy it, click here to buy The Errant Charm from iTunes.

James Drake

We live in a crazy world of possibilities. Want proof? There is so much music in the world that people sit around MAKING AWESOME MUSIC OUT OF OTHER PEOPLE’S AWESOME MUSIC. It’s like usury, except it won’t land you in the 7th circle of Dante’s Inferno! Yay! With sampling, remixes, mix tapes, mashups, and whatever the hell you want to call Girl Talk, there exists a wild and diverse ecosystem of used tunes that overflows with creativity, and I’m extremely pumped about what washed up at my feet today. James Drake is the work of Philly producers Bombé and Mr. Caribbean, and it mashes together the music of British composer/performer James Blake and Canadian rapper/performer Drake. That’s right friends! Drake’s Canadian! And so is Alex Trebek! Yeah, I guess everybody knows that one … how about Michael Cera? Whaaaat? I know! OK, moving on … While most producers and DJs would settle for throwing a few Drake verses over some of Blake’s electronic soul songs, James Drake provides valuable insight into what makes these two musicians tick, boiling down the two singers’ common mastery of melancholy into a potent concentrate. And let me tell ya, this is one weighty bouillabaisse. The combination acts like it has it’s own gravitational pull – anytime you hear a flash of Drake’s star power, or of Blake’s subtle sweetness, the other is there to bring the darkness back into focus. It’s a fascinating listen, slickly produced and truly fun, in spite of it’s gravity. Listen to the whole thing below or download it for free here. And if you don’t have James Blake’s self-titled album, get that shit STAT and then get your James Drake on.

Rave On Buddy Holly

Father’s Day got me thinking about how certain music sticks out in my memory as being omnipresent throughout my childhood. My dad loved early rock & roll, and even in the darkest depths of my angsty, Jnco-wearing, Nirvana-obsessed, “NO MOM I don’t CARE if my hair’s in my eyes and I can’t see anything” middle school days, I never lost the appreciation my dad instilled in me for a few canonical artists. Among the most sacred of these was Buddy Holly, and little did I know when I wrote last week about “The Day the Music Died” that NPR was just days away from throwing us a First Listen of the new, star-studded tribute album, Rave On Buddy Holly. The list of contributors is impressive, with legends like Paul McCartney, Lou Reed, and Patti Smith among them, but what makes the track list even more remarkable is the quality of the music that Holly released in just a three-year recording career. “True Love Ways” … “That’ll Be the Day” … “Peggy Sue” … “Everyday” … “Oh Boy!” … so many of his songs have become part of the fabric of American culture, and it’s easy to see his influence all across the musical spectrum. Buddy Holly is also proof that the truest songs sound simple, as if they occurred naturally and were picked off the vine at just the right moment, and it’s a treat to hear so many accomplished musicians offer their interpretations. You can sample some of the songs from Rave On Buddy Holly below, and you can hear the rest at NPR’s First Listen up until the record is released on June 28.

The Walkmen

Lisbon

Pop quiz: What caused the Fleet Foxes to have a Twitter conniption (Twitniption?) to the tune of “Been such gigantic fans of theirs since their first album” and “Its gonna be SO FUCKING AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”? If you guessed, “Finding out that they’d be sharing the bill with the Walkmen for a pair of shows in September,” you’re correct! And maybe a mind reader! You should find a game show to scam. Coincidentally, just 5 days before this laudatory lather was posted, my bandmate 4eva Doug urged me to give the Walkmen a long hard listen, saying that they’d climbed into the upper reaches of his list of favorite artists. He also shared that they were a band that critics and other bands have been wild about for some time, and the Fleet Foxy tweets above certainly back that up. Doug and I decided their most recent record, Lisbon, would be a suitable place for me to start, and after several listens, I’m totally sold. Lisbon is a beautiful record with some absolutely gorgeous sparse arrangements. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard just a voice and electric guitar sound so amazing together in all my life. It’s not all quiet stuff though – energetic songs like “Angela Surf City” balance the album out nicely. Give a listen below, and if you dig it, buy Lisbon on iTunes here. And remember, if one of your favorite bands is freaking out about another band, it’s probably worth listening to them. The other band, I mean. I mean … you listen to your favorite band’s advice, but then you listen to the other band’s music. You get what I’m saying, right? Of course you do, you read minder, you.

Dale Earnhardt Jr Jr

It's a Corporate World

Repetitive listening … check. Telling all my friends that they should listen … check. Telling everyone a second time that they should listen … check. It’s official. I have a band crush* on Dale Earnhardt Jr Jr. It started a few months ago with their name, which is not only memorable but ballsy, in that it ignores some serious Google (or Bing, if you’re a Republican) search result drawbacks. I was drawn in even more by their marketing savvy, which is evidenced by persistent racing imagery and one of my favorite Twitter accounts in all of Twitterdom. But in the end, none of that would have mattered if their music wasn’t as special as it is. Their debut LP It’s a Corporate World rounds out my Tuesday music-buying binge, and I’ve been looking forward to sharing how great it is ever since I finished listening to the album. Theirs is a truly soulful brand of electro-pop, with an intelligence that permeates each note, sample and lyric. One of my favorite songs on the record is “Skeletons,” in large part because it highlights Dale Jr Jr’s talent for balancing mind and heart, electronic beats and acoustic guitar, enjoyment and meaning, all in one 2:20 second song. It’s a Corporate World is so much more than a fun summer album, but I’ll probably have more fun listening to it than any other album that comes out in the next few months. Join me in my band crush by listening to “Skeletons” below and downloading their album from iTunes.

*Damn you, Urban Dictionary. I thought I invented the term band crush. I was wrong.

Cults

Cults

In the age of the Interwebs, buying a record – actually walking up to a cash register, or clicking the buy button on iTunes – before knowing everything there is to know about a band is rare. It almost seems foolish, given there is so much information available. But I’m here to tell you how exhilarating it is to step out into the unknown with $7.99 of your hard earned money on the line, and buy an album on faith. Just like eating at a new restaurant or introducing yourself to a stranger, there is risk involved, but the rewards are more meaningful when you’ve ventured out of your comfort zone. My Tuesday buying spree included a few albums I knew I’d love – I’d heard streams of them online – but it also included a band I knew little about: Cults. After just a quick glance at a review and a few fleeting moments with Amazon’s woefully brief song previews (seriously, they need to follow in iTunes’ footsteps and lengthen that shizz), I pulled the trigger and bought their eponymous debut album on iTunes. This is dorky, but I was so jazzed up about the mystery of what I’d purchased that I waited to jump in until I knew I’d be able to listen to the whole thing, uninterrupted, on a long run. Well, it started as a long run but ended up being fairly short, but it was 95 degrees outside BACK OFF IT WAS REALLY HOT, OK? Turns out the album is really, really good, and has some cool musical DNA. I hear a kinship with 50’s and 60’s pop, with enough reverb to make Chris Isaak’s guitar blush, but there’s a fascinating Motown streak that runs through these songs, especially their tune, “You Know What I Mean.” This track shows off Cults’ ability to craft well-rounded songs with effective layering of peripheral elements, like strings, snaps and piano, but “You Know What I Mean” also showcases the band’s grit – Madeline Follin’s vocals have a fierceness that really grabs you. I encourage you to get grabbed by previewing the tune below, and grabbing their album for yourself.

Justin Townes Earle

Christchurch Woman

Whether they’re cover songs or tracks that have been scooped up off an album’s cutting-room floor, B-sides are a great way to get to know your favorite bands even better. And you don’t have to be a vinyl collector to get in on the fun! Look, I’ll prove it to you! My current bout with B-side fever started on May 23, when Justin Townes Earle released the digital Christchurch Woman single. Its B-side is a cover of Bruce Springsteen’s “Racing in the Streets,” a tune JTE played as the closer of his recent show at the Camel in Richmond. The cover first appeared on a limited-edition Record Store Day 7″, and since I didn’t manage to get my hands on a copy, I was elated when I learned it was available on iTunes. I have to confess, I’m a HUGE fan of Springsteen covers. I didn’t grow up listening to the Boss, and have never been able to jump into his catalog with both feet. For whatever reason, I need to hear his songs through the prism of another band’s style for the original versions to come into focus. In exactly this way, JTE’s version of “Racing in the Streets” has given me another Springsteen song to love. The recording is sparse, just vocals and acoustic guitar, but JTE’s mastery of dynamics is what makes the cover really shine. Have a listen below, and run to iTunes to download the two-song single. And if you don’t already own it, for the love of all that’s holy, get his most recent album Harlem River Blues. Srsly.

Old Crow Medicine Show

Tennessee Pusher

It’s a holiday weekend. The weather is perfect. The grill is ready to light and your friends are on their way over, but you were too busy and/or lazy to make a playlist for the occasion. So, who is your go-to band? Who can you count on to set the right mood, so you don’t have to keep running over from the grill to skip all the embarrassing songs that come on when your iPod is set to random? For me, there’s an easy answer: Old Crow Medicine Show. How I started listening to Old Crow stands in perfect contrast to yesterday’s post about Delicate Steve. There are no press releases here, no lessons about public relations or authenticity, just a simple story about hearing a band for the first time and instantly connecting. At Bonnaroo in 2005, I happened to wander over to the tent where Old Crow was playing. To this day, I can remember so distinctly the feeling that their songs felt like old friends I just hadn’t met yet. Their performance was raucous (I swear their shows have gotten even crazier – last time I saw them at the National, people were crowdsurfing … to bluegrass), but their blend of roots music and Americana carried a soulful undercurrent that resonated deeply, and still does today. As a tribute to all the cookouts that will be happening this weekend, check out their song “Humdinger,” which chronicles a nice little get-together.

Just kidding it’s about an out-of-control, 700-person celebration of “wine, whiskey, women and guns.”