Denny Denny Breakfast "Glass in Everyone's Tongue"

Listen to/download Glass in Everyone's Tongue

Speaking of music that's nearly impossible to describe...may I present to you Denny Denny Breakfast. Here are the 3 things I know about this guy: his real name is Bob Ladue, he resides in Oakland, and his music is nothing short of mind-blowing.

DDB's newest sonic offering, Glass in Everyone's Tongue, spans so many different genres over the course of even just one song that it makes for a pleasantly disorienting listening experience. Synth basses squelch, programmed drums skitter between headphone channels, and acoustic guitars sparkle through the relative chaos like sunbeams from behind storm clouds.

The most accurate classification I can conjure is "experimental electronic progressive pop", with an emphasis on "progressive". No, not progressive like "prog rock", though there are plenty of twists and turns to be found here. This is progressive in that...well, I've never heard anything like it before. Nothing. Ever.

This is an album that doesn't sit still for more than a minute, yet somehow has a patience and cohesiveness that is usually unheard of in this sort of approach. This album WILL throw you for a loop. Several loops. It is impossible to predict where the music will go next, unless you've listened to the entire thing several times through. Even then, not so much...I'm on my fourth or fifth listen, and I'm still frequently surprised when I hear a short passage I'd completely forgotten about. And unlike many other "indie" bands, where the sum is often far more impressive than the individual parts, it's fairly obvious that Denny/Bob is a very accomplished guitarist and singer...and composer...and producer...and, and, and...

Glass in Everyone's Tongue is certainly a DENSE album, but never feels crowded or claustrophobic. It's a wonder Denny Denny Breakfast is able to pull off so many musical contradictions so well, and that should be a testimony to his brilliant songwriting and arranging.

I really can't recommend this album enough. This is easily one of my favorite albums I've heard in 2010. It's a wonder this guy isn't more well known that he is. This is Album of the Year good, folks. It's only a matter of time before this guy is on the front page of Pitchfork.com (I'd say Rolling Stone, but really, who reads magazines anymore? LOLZERZ). Did I mention this album is FREE? That is both a blessing and an absolute shame.

My ONE complaint about this spectacular album is that I can never again listen to it for the first time. YOU, however, still have the opportunity. Don't squander it. -Matt

The Myonics "Digits"

Buy or listen to Digits

I've been away from this blog for a while. Writing about music is hard. Anyone who tells you otherwise is a fucking liar who probably just wants to get into your pants. It's easy to be suckered in by a fancy writer, I admit. My undergarments have been breached many a time by the alluring words of music journalists. But how do you write about music, really? Analogies and metaphors get thrown around, but it's damn near impossible to accurately describe MUSIC (or most art, really) on a basic, straightforward level that any human can appreciate.

So here's Digits, the newest EP from our Bay Area buddies The Myonics. How the hell do you describe them? What do you call this music anyway? Words fail. You just want to shut your brain off and enjoy it.

Here are a few words that DO spring to mind: Rocking. Fun. Weird. Catchy. Unique. Genuinely-interesting-and-well-written-songs-played-with-ferocity-and-conviction. OK, so that last word might be a bit much to digest. But read it again and again, until you're curious enough to visit The Myonics' Bandcamp page and pay the $1 (mandatory) donation for this 13-minute masterwork. Or, if you're a starving artist/cheapskate/horrible person like me, you can just stream the damned thing for free. Shhh!

The Myonics (at least the members I've met) are all stand up people with the best of intentions who only want to play some awesome music...for you! Why won't you just shut up and listen? WHY, DAMN IT, WHY?!?!? If the $1 fee turns you off, remember that these people are all human beings too, and they all have their own needs. Singer/guitarist/songwriter Jasper Leach desperately needs to raise funds for a bone marrow transplant. Quonnie Kim needs new special shoes for her amputated stump legs. Tom Meagher's grandmother is being held hostage for ransom. Drummer Brian Davy needs a life-saving haircut. Please, your donation CAN make a difference!

In short, Digits is an adventurous, eclectic little EP that deserves your full attention...RIGHT NOW! -Matt

Classics Revisited: The Beach Boys "Pet Sounds"

Pet Sounds is considered one of the best rock records of the pre-mp3 blog era. Some people might venture to say that Pet Sounds would still hold up and wouldn't be instantly forgotten even if it was released in close proximity to the new Best Coast record. After all, Brian Wilson is generally considered "an insane retard that gets high off of eating his own poop, but nevertheless, knows his way around a theremin and Ampex 8-Track" by most reputable critics. Some publications have even gone so far as to dub Pet Sounds the No Pocky for Kitty of the mid '60s. Some might even call Brian Wilson "The Godfather of the Burgeoning Chillwave/Beachslut Movement" mostly because he was all about using jpegs of cool looking (and possibly stoned) animals for the cover of his albums, and seemed to be all about hangin' out and not doin' shit...which I guess was as novel in 1966 as it is now.

In this review I will seek to find out how Pet Sounds holds up to today's cut-throat indie mp3 blog cycle standards. Is "Sloop John B" better than Neon Indian's "Shoulda Taken Acid With You"? Short answer, "No." Long answer, "No" with a "Maybe." Will the psychedelic sounds of Pet Sounds inevitably go the way of turdgaze, Christian dronewave, dark ska, and luxurycore and be dumped into the mass grave with the other dead rock genres? Or will the style transcend the art form with a "perfect sound forever" and be recognized as timeless; like space-country, crazy-cat-lady indie, Christian screamo, and "bands that sound more-or-less exactly like Jesus and Mary Chain"? I will also try to come to some conclusion on whether or not Brian Wilson was the original chill beach slut or the original hatin' ass beach narc. Which I feel is the crux of a lot of rock criticism. And I know there's an answer.

First of all, any of these songs would be hilarious if they were mashed up with Cam'ron or Project Pat or Uffie. I dunno if Girl Talk or the Hood Internet have done this already (I don't think so), but whoever does this will probably live on forever. On a semi-related note, don't you wonder why people play shit that aren't mashups at their party? It's fucking retarded. Sorry for the vitriol.

But yeah, Pet Sounds. What makes it tick? Why is it good or horrible? The most striking mp3 on this album is the stirring anti-death penalty song, "Wouldn't It Be Nice." I think if more people heard this song, violence and death would come to a screeching halt… maybe they'd sentence criminals to "hang out at the beach and smoke purple kush" instead of making them dig their own grave in the hot sun and shit. The second song is boring as hell and doesn't have any cool stuff happening in it. If you're illegally downloading the album, make sure you delete "You Still Believe in Me" and replace it with a better song that won't put you to sleep..."Get In The Ring" by Guns n Roses or "Another Body Murdered" by Faith No More and Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. (from the Judgement Night soundtrack) are both fantastic substitutes that mesh well with the lyrical and musical themes found here on Pet Sounds. "I'm Waiting For The Day" has a heavy Green Album-era Weezer influence to it which is fine if you like that scene. I wonder if Brian Wilson listened to a lot of 2nd wave emo when he was being a recluse and getting high off of eating his own poop?

"Sloop John B" is sorta like the first chillwave song. And if rumors are to be believed, it took 48 different Apple laptops to make that song. I wonder if annoying girls that wore ironic animal shirts in the mid-60s would play this song way too much? "God Only Knows" is probably the most unnerving moment on them album, as it centers around uncomfortable themes of "loss of innocence" and feelings of "being raped by religion," it sorta throws you into a Comte de Lautreamont-esque surreal nightmare. This song is kinda the stylistic forefather to Marilyn Manson's sublime pocket symphony "Cryptorchid" as well as a lot of later-day Swans stuff. Fun fact! Some occult theorists/aura specialists say that you can actually hear Wilson's soul dissolving like a cube of sugar during some of the earlier recordings of "God Only Knows". But whatever. I've only listened to "I Just Wasn't Made For These Times" once, and it's one of the better songs about using a primitive time travel device to go into the very recent past to cheat the stock market.

What else? The actual song "Pet Sounds" is an instrumental track. Whenever this song is preformed live, Wilson dedicates it to "all the pets around the world living and dead" and then makes the crowd join him in the chant "Hoof and horn, hoof and horn, all that dies shall be reborn. Corn and grain, corn and grain, all that falls shall rise again" It's kinda silly if you actually start to think about it. "Caroline No" is boring grandpa chillwave at its worst, which (ironically) isn't chill at all. And needless to say, I'm not in the mood to sing the praises about the rest of this dying proto glo-fi brachiosaurus.

Recently it seems there's been a groundswell of people I've ran into that think Smile Smiley or whatever is truly superior record. Mostly because of knee-jerk reasons...like people are sick of saying Pet Sounds is so un-fucking-precedented and - plus! - Smiley has songs about eating a shit ton of vegetables out of boredom and hangin' out with supremely fuckable bald babes! But this sentiment smacks of trying-too-hard music criticism and indie snobbery. Like when you ask someone what their favorite Wire record is, and they instantly reply to you "THE SHITTY ONE THAT NO ONE LIKES! NOT EVEN ME."

I appreciate Pet Sounds the way I appreciate George Washington, King Arthur, the Loch Ness Monster or Winston Churchill. In the way that I don't really appreciate it at all. It's like "I get it. You probably did a lot of cool shit 48 million eons ago when no one blogged about anything. I wouldn't be here without all your sweet beachwave parties you threw for the good of the nation or whatever. You probably met a lot of meaningful people and learned 'the ways of trees' from 'the red man' or whatever. I don't care. You're in my sun."

To the central question was Brian a cool dude or a narc? Well, anyone who hides from society and craps their pants all the time and uses tons of superfluous instruments just to be a jerk-off and waste the money of ancient buzz-kills that were probably pressuring him to pump out a hit on the level of "The Entertainer" or "Spoonman" or whatever song was #1 on iTunes at the time, well, anyone who does all of that rad shit will always be cool in my book. What was chill once will always remain chill, right? Unfortunately, no. Nothing chill ever stays. -Willwave

Julian Buttersweets "Nasty's Fort"

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Sacramento's Julian Buttersweets is a sick and sad individual. And so it only follows that his music is both as sweet as is frightening. Nasty's Fort definitely falls more into the frightening side of the spectrum.

While listening to "The Throat Slicer", it's not hard to envision a maniacal blade-wielding demon singing the words, as fat bass, bongos and harmonium bounce from one speaker to the next, and that's just the beginning. What continues is a series of songs so childish and terrifying its safe to say that Julian Buttersweets has finally lost his mind.

The song "Nasty's Fort" comes next and spreads itself across the listener's psyche, evoking a clearing in the woods, with a Residents-esque voice narrating the sad and alarming life of Nasty and his lonely fort. According to the lyric sheet, "nobody visits Nasty's Fort no more" and it's quite clear why this is the case.

"1-2-3-4" is kind of a children's rhyme punctuated by the canned exclamation of "1, 2, 3, 4" being chanted via Casiotone. It's a brief track that segues into the equally disconcerting "Dear Dr. Juice", a mad carnival of a song. Buttersweets, you bastard, when will your mad nightmare end??

From a slim paragraph of album notes comes the instructions, "Listen to it in complete darkness if at all possible." I couldn't agree more! -Adam

Listen to "The Throat Slicer"

Tristan Corrales "Neo Existentialism"

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Hi, my name is Matt, and I am a Nintendo addict...

It began innocently enough...I received a Game Boy on Christmas Day of 1990, if I recall correctly. Now it's 2010, I'm 25 and I've got a small portable console that can and does play more 8 and 16-bit games than even I can possibly comprehend. Most of my days are spent trembling in anticipation of some new Zelda, Mario or Metroid game, like a junkie waiting for a fix (albeit with more manageable withdrawal symptoms). I can get through my days a little easier though, knowing there are others out there like Tristan Corrales that share the same affliction. I really do wish I could tell you I'm getting clean...I wish I tell you that Tristan is my sponsor. The truth is, he has become more like a supplier.

Mr. Corrales is quite adept at creating a virtual landscape of sound, synesthetically producing colorful visions of pixelated bushes and clouds, mid-level checkpoints and princesses in need of saving. Unlike musical contemporaries such as BitShifter or Pixelh8, Tristan's chiptune grooves aren't trying to re-create any sort of dance floor techno or electro vibe. Each song here is unique unto itself, each track the soundtrack to the level of some twisted, long-forgotten Nintendo game that never got a stateside release.

This is heavily nostalgic, happy, energetic chiptune music that doesn't ape any specific genre. It is quite possible Tristan Corrales scores video games for a living, but if he doesn't he most certainly could land a job...back in the early 90's...hmm. Crap. Where's that Game Genie at? -Matt

Listen to "Stroll in the Park With My Best Friends"

Memes "Awww Shucks!"

Download Awww Shucks!

I wanted to call a band "Memes". That's how this all began. I thought it was original and clever, and had a lot of staying power in today's post (present?) YouTube/Digg/4Chan world. Most of all, I thought it would inspire me to get a hip, scene oriented "indie" band together...and perhaps even get laid.

But it was not to be. Myspace graciously informed me that there were at least 200 other bands with some variation on the word "Memes" in their name. Myspace also graciously led me to the page of San Francisco breakbeat/IDM band, also called Memes.

All I can say is this band is worthy of the name. They can have it, and I won't complain. In fact, all other bands calling themselves "Memes" should immediately find new band names. Memes' album Awww Shucks! is (according to Bandcamp) a collection of tracks recorded between 2004 and 2006, finally mastered in 2010. If this is true, and this is the music they were making back 4 -6 years ago, then Memes are already ahead of the curve, miles beyond their musical peers, forging exciting new paths in the electronic/sample-driven music landscape.

Awww Shucks! features some of the most sonically diverse, chill-inducing instrumental music. Most of what you hear (about 90%) are sounds sampled from old vinyl jazz, funk and soul records, which gives the album an instantly timeless vibe and makes what I'm hearing all the more impressive. The artists Memes borrows from aren't rolling over in their graves (if they're even deceased), they're bobbing their heads!

From start to finish, this record is thoroughly enjoyable, stimulating and relaxing. I'm not going to go into any more specifics, you just need to hear it for yourself. I only wish this awesome LP had more eye-grabbing artwork. - Matt

Listen to "Pinochle Sandwich"

Antioquia "My Piano Ate the Front Page of the San Francisco Chronicle"

Download My Piano Ate the Front Page of the San Francisco Chronicle

It's not every day one discovers an album this solid and unique by complete accident, but that's pretty much what happened to me late one night whilst sleeplessly browsing Bandcamp's list of California artists. Intrigued by its lengthy title, I decided to give Antioquia's album a spin (hmm...in the age of digital distribution, is that term even appropriate anymore?).

However, this album may not be for everyone. First of all, it's pretty long (clocking in at just over 76 minutes). Secondly, with songs about the inherent evil and greedy nature of the human species ("Humans Do") and how "The Oakland police budget consumes 43% of the city's general funds" (actual lyrics, "Police Brutality"), Antioqia make no qualms about wearing their sociopolitical badges on their sleeves. In this way, they seem right at home in the Bay Area.

However, the message (however important it may be) is never heavy-handed and never gets in the way of the music, which is EXACTLY what reeled me in here. MPAtFPotSFC is, in short, a whole lot of fun to listen to. The eclectic instrumentation straddles the lines between indie/experimental, Afro beat and jam rock. On many of these tracks, guitars, bass, piano, and percussion join forces in such a way to provide an angular-yet-funky backdrop for singer "Mana" Maddy Streicek's impassioned, soulful wails.

With music so exciting and loose, it's apparent that Antioquia is best experienced shoes off, dancing in the grass at an outdoor summer music festival. I felt strangely out of place, listening to this album on my shitty laptop, sitting alone in my uncomfortably humid bedroom. I kept considering pausing iTunes and relocating myself and my laptop into my back yard and smoking a bowl (using solar beams via magnifying lens, naturally). Perhaps I still will. - Matt

Listen to "High-End Logistics"