xkcd Relates to Everything, Dammit (Volume 1)

This song...


Makes me feel...

And this song...


Makes me feel...

Talk Talk Talk Talk Talk Talk Talk

ARTIST: Tilly and the Wall


"Oh, I just don't get it, can't seem to make sense
I've got some jumbled-up thoughts in my jumbled-up head
I keep stumbling around on some jumbled-up legs,
I keep mumbling out some jumbled-up text."

I absolutely love this song. The opening lyrics, transcribed above, remind me of a quote I read about a brain disorder called "Aphasia."

Aphasia (or aphemia) is a loss of the ability to produce and/or comprehend language, due to injury to brain areas specialized for early breakfast, sardines backslash in fair order banana. Seamstresses minder on omniloquent basality; flagrant crumples flung fat over New York. Garage band gritty Uncle Sam, bad ass rabbit a scattered cod jump. -- uncyclopedia.org

ah, sweet futility

I want to take a second and point out the great, black hole time-waster that is the Uncyclopedia. It's the same idea as Wikipedia - the content is open for users to edit and contribute to. However, there is no standard for accuracy or, really, anything at all. They do hold some standards for smart humor and not just crass, pointless nonsense. There are some absolute gems, like the entry on language or Americans. If you're one of those people who go into a Wikipedia coma and end up snapping out of it after reading the full biography of Troy Dusosky (Google it and be bored to tears) and realizing you've officially reached the end of the internet - there is definitely more. Turns out, Uncyclopedia is much more entertaining than Wikipedia, which confirms my theory that pretend is always better than reality.

Anyways, as an added bonus to today's post, I stumbled across the fact that this week's featured artist, Tilly and the Wall, has an official sister band. Just as Tempe, the city in which I work, is part of a sister-city program with a handful of cities around the world, Tilly is the official American sister band of the Canadian lovelies, Of Montreal. So, I've included one of my most favorite Of Montreal songs below for your enjoyment and dancing pleasure.

Let Us Be Free, Let Us Sing Songs Along

In July, 2008, I stood in a crowded, small, sweaty, loud room in downtown Phoenix. Tilly and the Wall was about to play, and the smell of B.O. was already heavy in the air. But a girl in a tutu jumped up onto an amplified acoustic platform and started tapping out a mesmerizing rhythm, which garnered unified clapping from the crowd, all with excited faces. Nobody stopped sweating, because nobody stopped dancing from that moment on. The music was amazing and the energy was electric. The most apparent thing I took from their live show was that they love company, and they love having friends. Their performance seemed to be fueled by nothing else other than the crowd's involvement. They had just released an album at that time, called O, which was the follow-up to their sophomore album, Bottoms of Barrels. Their albums have this great way of riding self-created momentum, musically. Here's what I consider to be the pinnacle of Bottoms of Barrels, the first album of theirs that saw a substantial deal of commercial success. To me, it best "demonstrates the importance of Tilly’s 'we' perspective – with a gang full of voices, the band made strong declarations about love, freedom and their own place in the world" (Tilly biography)

Pretty Girls in Tutus and Tap Shoes

NEW FEATURED ARTIST: TILLY AND THE WALL

Honestly, who needs a drummer when you have a cute, spazzy tutu-wearing girl who can tap-dance? Tilly and the Wall doesn't. Although they've expanded their format more recently to include drums in some songs, Jamie Pressnall still heads up the rhythm section and drives the songs forward with her relentless stomping. Set this behind angelic group-vocals sung with a punk attitude by Neely Jenkins and Kianna Alarid, as well as Derek Pressnall killing the rhythm guitar and Nick White on keys, and you've got yourself a great band.

Tilly and the Wall started in Omaha, Nebraska in 2001, an offspring of the practically incestuous Omaha folk-rock scene which saw different combinations of members from Bright Eyes, the Faint and Rilo Kiley.

They've enjoyed some moderate success beyond that of their cult following at different times, such as performing live on the Late Show with David Letterman in 2007, a cameo performance on Sesame Street last year, as well as having songs featured on movie soundtracks.

They're great at coming up with very rich, original instrumentation in their songs, complete with accordions, brass, keyboard, and of course tap-dancing. Sit back and let's get to know 'em this week, and then try not to fall in love, I dare you.

Santa Claus, Go Straight to the Ghetto

Despite every instance I hear about Belle and Sebastian also including the words "artsy" and "fartsy," I like them. Here is one of my favorite Christmas songs this year, "Santa Claus Go Straight to the Ghetto" (James Brown cover).

To: You, From: Me

Sufjan Stevens
"O Holy Night"
Songs for Christmas


Ben Folds
"Lonely Christmas Eve"
How the Grinch Stole Christmas Soundtrack


The Who
"Christmas"
Tommy


Bright Eyes
"Silver Bells"
A Christmas Album


James Brown
"Signs of Christmas"
Funky Christmas


The White Stripes
"Candy Cane Children"
Merry Christmas from the White Stripes


MU330
"I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day"


Atom and His Package
"What We Do on Christmas"


Ben Folds
"Bizarre Christmas Incident"


The Flaming Lips
"Christmas at the Zoo"
Clouds Taste Metallic

i have created a eulogy: Captain Beefheart

Musicians are pretty prone to dying, so I'm starting a recurring segment - "i have created a eulogy" - in which I will pay tribute to those of rock's weirdest who have passed on. Normally, these will require some time travel, as I'm not waiting for current living people to die in order to write about them. But here's the first attempt.

"Once you've heard Beefheart, it's hard to wash him out of your clothes. It stains, like coffee or blood." - Tom Waits

Don Van Vliet (Captain Beefheart)
Jan 15 1941 - Dec 17 2010



Once, in the 1950s there was this big party started called rock n' roll. Well, it got going pretty quickly, and there were some pretty zany people that showed up. First, Elvis busted through the front door, moving his hips in all kinds of ways that weren't okay for some people. But soon everyone got used to that. And the Beatles showed up, too, and they were nice boys and people liked them. The Rolling Stones came, but they were mostly assholes, but they brought a bunch of beer and drugs, so people let them stay.

But then in 1964, Don Van Vliet showed up. He wasn't invited, but apparently he snuck in behind Frank Zappa. Vliet was the kid at the party that was wearing the top hat, climbing onto the roof with the aquarium and making friends with the fish before throwing them one by one into the swimming pool - yet he was the only one that was completely sober, which officially made him the weirdest kid there. He demanded people call him Captain Beefheart, for the love. So people kind of just let him do his thing on the roof until the 80s, when he stopped on his own.

I don't know if you've ever tried listening to his 1969 double album Trout Mask Replica from beginning to end, but if you do it now for the first time, you probably won't make it through. The songs are hard to swallow when first heard. However, the brilliance behind Captain Beefheart is only revealed through familiarity. With incredible, complex polyphonic rhythms among the instruments, Beefheart provided a gritty vocal howl with surrealistic lyrics of which more modern bands like At the Drive In and Modest Mouse are reminiscent. You must remember - in the late 60s, the Beatles were writing psychedelic rock and taking themselves sort of seriously. Beefheart, along with Frank Zappa, both totally drug-free, somehow reached much further into the realm of psychedelia, creative expression and the surreal than any other bands. Beefheart makes calling Sgt Pepper "experimental" seem like calling a bicycle ride "life-threatening." Sure, by some standard it is, but there are other things you could do that would kill you for sure. For instance, while The Who were riding their bicycles with Tommy in 1969, Captain Beefheart was leaping out of an effing spaceship without an oxygen tank with Trout Mask Replica that same year.

The Rolling Stone wrote that Captain Beefheart was always "more influential than popular." Many artists have openly attributed their styles and tastes as being heavily influenced by him. Tom Waits said that his "shift in artistic direction" in the early 80s was a result of his wife introducing him to Beefheart's work. Matt Groening, creator of the Simpsons and Futurama, claims that Trout Mask Replica is the greatest album ever made. The White Stripes, the Sex Pistols, the Clash, Man Man, Beck, Franz Ferdinand, the Pixies, Red Hot Chili Peppers - all groups that have claimed to have been heavily influenced by the dude.

Rest in peace, you magnificent bastard.

(read the Rolling Stone's biography here)