the sunday superlative - 8/2/09

This Week: Bands I Haven't Seen Live I Mean Srsly Wtf



Because I'm all about counterbalancing. And no, The Decemberists are not included. And no, I still haven't seen them. And no, this fact does not lead to me harbor any murderous urges. I have no idea where you might get that notion.

Anyway. I overstepped my limits again and did, like, a lot of songs. But (1) it's been, like, a month and a half, right? And (2) this is a fraction of the bands I want to see. A fraction. It was hard narrowing down by even this much. Srsly.

AFI - "Days of the Phoenix" (mp3|3.17MB)
Oh, AFI. One of those bands I fell for in middle school and, against all odds, I'm still in love with years and years later. I remember hearing "Days of the Phoenix" in 7th grade. 2001. It was the first of their songs I ever heard, and it's still one of my favorite songs ever. I somehow doubt this is ever going to change. But it begs the question: if you hold onto a favorite that long, through all of those tumultuous teenage years, doesn't it stand to reason that at some point one might go out of his way to see a concert by the band in question? Yeah. I'd have thought so, too. Someday. Definitely someday. Or a Blaqk Audio show. I'd settle for one of those, too. Preferably both, though. K, moving on.
(from the 2000 album The Art of Drowning)

Brand New - "Jaws Theme Swimming" (mp3|6.28MB)
I'm beyond denying it: Brand New is one of my favorite bands. I've finally gotten over the fact that they play a style of music I'm usually very adverse to and just come to accept that I really, really fucking love their stuff. And while The Devil and God remains their masterpiece and Daisy remains my #1 most anticipated album for the latter half of 2009, this summer I've also come to realize just how great their 2003 breakthrough Deja Entendu is. It's generally a tad more accessible, but with the same ear for melody and encompassing darkness that makes their 2006 album so brilliant. This, "Jaws Theme Swimming," is my favorite track from it. But of course you'll probably find your own. Oh: and I really, really need to see them live. Really.
(from the 2003 album Deja Entendu)

Daft Punk - "Around the World/Harder Better Faster Stronger" [live] (mp3|7.84MB)
According to literally anyone who has ever seen them live, Daft Punk is one of the greatest concert experiences a person can ever have. Based on the entirety of their Alive 2007 album (in contention for greatest live album ever, and no I am not exaggerating; it's certainly Daft Punk's best release, and one of the finest electronic albums out there) and some eye-popping videos that have cropped up on YouTube, it's easy to see why. Until the day I finally get the opportunity, I'll just sit and drool at this live cut. It mashes up two of their best-known songs into one cohesive piece that makes me wonder why they were ever separate in the first place. It's so amazing.
(from the 2007 album Alive 2007)

Silversun Pickups - "Growing Old Is Getting Old" (mp3|7.04MB)
This song is incredible. That's all there is to it. Far and away one of the best songs of 2009. It starts off as a cool, restrained bass groove, but then at around three minutes undergoes one of the most shattering change-ups I have ever heard and emerges as not only a poignant meditation on life as a whole, but also a complete ass-kicking powerhouse. I can only imagine how it must translate to a concert setting, where the band would be given free reign to just RAWK OUT and tear that second half to shreds. I have no doubt it'd be kind of dazzling, as would hearing most of their discography. Oh man. I don't even want to imagine. I'm going to make myself way too envious.
(from the 2009 album Swoon)

And lastly, so I don't feel completely defeated ...

Apoptygma Berzerk - "Eclipse" (mp3|8.18MB)
Hahahaaaaa. Ha. Ha. HA. Oh, by the way, this is inarguably one of the best electronic songs ever written. Just sayin'. So don't mess with it.
(from the 2000 album Welcome to Earth)

I'll see you guys next week. Yes. Next week! It's time we got this shit back on track!

As always, feel free to send comments, suggestions, requests, or Nigerian bank spam to fridayfiveradio@gmail.com. All forms of correspondence are warmly welcomed and possibly even anticipated.

the sunday superlative - 10/12/08

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Chris.


("Hello, Chris.")
A couple days ago, I was approached by the proprietess of this particular blog and asked if I would contribute a weekly feature. I, being as incurable a music junkie as she, leaped at the opportunity. The goal as I understand it is to ultimately make Friday Five Radio a daily event, with each day representing a different alliterative theme that slowly but surely builds up to the aforementioned end-of-week motherlode. When asked, I was quick to suggest the Sunday Superlative. A couple emails, a greenlight, and -- at least in her case -- a few intoxicants with trust-inducing side effects later, here I am.

So, what is this? Well, as I said, I am addicted to music. Anyone who listens to enough of the stuff gradually accrues a lengthy list of favorites. The Sunday Superlative is my excuse to foist, three at a time, some of my all-time favorite songs onto the world. These, as with the Friday Five, will be presented in themes: best songs narrated by psycho stalkers (The Police's "Every Breath You Take," naturally), best songs about sexually ambiguous lovers (The Killers' "Somebody Told Me"), and so on.

This week's theme is very basic. We're just getting acquainted, you and I, so I think you should know in general where my tastes fall. My three favorite genres are modern indie-rock (my big favorite, and I'd be ostracized if it wasn't), dance/electronica, and late 70s/early 80s post-punk/New Wave stuff. What I've done this week is chosen three lesser-known songs that more or less adhere to each of these categories. Of course, music really becomes the most fun when it blurs genre boundaries, but we'll get to that later. I promise.

In addition, as with everybody, my favorites aren't equal. They don't all just hang out on a plateau together and have a Wow I'm On Chris' Plateau party (but certainly, were such a party to happen, they'd all be invited; "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" would be my bouncer). They're hierarchical. So, even though every song I will post in the Sunday Superlative will certainly be among my all-time favorite tracks, I want to distinguish the huge favorites. They'll pop up every now and again, each time with a little asterisk next to the title. Be on the lookout for those. Those are the true Desert Island Songs. In fact, if you look closely enough, you might see one tonight. Oooh.

Also: I'm wordy. Can you tell?

Without further ado, let's go!

Electronica:
*Apoptygma Berzerk - "Until the End of the World" (mp3|5.38MB)
This is where it all started. My rabid, foaming-at-the-mouth craving for dance music can be tracked right back to this song. I blame Lea. It's all on her shoulders. In summer 2004, I was already in the process of discovering electronica little by little via my dad's Kraftwerk albums and other oldschool bands like Tangerine Dream, but Lea asked me one night -- as she is wont to do -- if I had ever heard Apoptygma Berzerk. I probably said something like, "Bless you." But I checked them out. The first song I downloaded was this one. After listening to it just once, the point of no return had been reached. I have not returned, nor do I want to. This is a hard-hitting, pure adrenaline dance song. It conforms to pop song structure, but its pounding industrial influences are also capable of absolutely destroying a dance floor. As far as electronic music goes, I couldn't have dreamed of a more perfect introduction.
(from the 2002 album Harmonizer)

Post-punk/New Wave:
The Cure - "The Holy Hour" (mp3|4.05MB)
I don't think people fully grasp the importance of The Cure. To the devoted, they're the best band ever, bar none. To the casual observer, they're this depressing goth band that had a couple hits in the late 80s that they secretly like but will never admit it. But the thing no one ever recognizes is that Robert Smith and his band of not-so-merry men are just about the most versatile, chameleonic act this side of Zappa and Bowie. Take "The Holy Hour," just about the best cut from their 1981 album Faith. The band is still very much in Joy Division mode here -- the mopey bass, the robotic drums, the foggy wall-of-impending-doom atmosphere -- but think about it: does this sound anything like "Boys Don't Cry"? That song came out two years -- two years -- earlier. And does "Boys Don't Cry" sound anything like 1983's "The Lovecats"? It's impressive when you think about it (I mean, it's taken Axl Rose fifteen years to even get around to releasing Chinese Democracy, and yet Smith was able to reinvent himself at least twice in less than half a decade). What's even more impressive is that The Cure can tackle all of these styles seemingly without even trying. "The Holy Hour" is a delicious sampling of a style that, though unmistakably of its time, still resonates almost 30 years later. It's also a flashbulb of a band not in transition, but in a constant state of perpetual motion.
(from the 1981 album Faith)

Indie-rock:
Mew - "Am I Wry? No" (mp3|6.75 MB)
Mew is (are?) from Denmark. This may, in fact, make them the only Danish rock band in the history of time. I'm being facetious, of course, but it's easy to see why they're so big in their homeland. What's not so easy to see is why that success isn't shared the world over. These guys are good. I mean it. And as much as I hate the description of "Sigur Ros meets Queensryche" (thank you, webzine that wrote that -- you know who you are), that pretty much nails it. They're icy and melodic, but also have a distinct hard, arena-rock flavor that by all acounts should win them millions and millions of fans. "Am I Wry? No" is the first and best track from their phenomenal 2003 (or 2007, if you live west of the Atlantic) album Frengers, and -- intentionally or no -- it's a working example of everything the band excels at. One of the best memories I have of fall 2007 is doing 70 on a dark, empty road with the windows down and this song blaring. When the coda kicks in around 3:30, it's heaven on earth.
(from the 2003 album Frengers)

Until next week, Chris -- signing off!

Ha. "We Built This City" tries to get into my party. "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" is like, 'No, bitch! *FWAP!*'