Mixtape 258 • Finger In Your Eye
Looks like YACHT is back and gesticulating wildly about.
Looks like YACHT is back and gesticulating wildly about.
Magic is in the air, so we are starting most appropriately with Boom Pam and their take on Steve Miller’s “Abracadabra,” herein entitled “Alakazam.” It only got more magical from there with new music from Nick Cave, Fake Fruit, and Los Bitchos, all of whom are presently on desktop rotation. Next week: a special Fund Drive show.
The Mommyheads would like to know if you are OK, like really OK and not just saying that.
The voice of your conscience is a very close match to the one you hear coming from Grandaddy.
I meant to write the notes for this show sooner than a month after the fact, but travel plans got in the way and here I am struggling for an intro. I can tell you that hearing Sparklehorse take on Robyn Hitchcock and the Egyptians’ “Listening to the Higsons” for the first time, mere weeks ago, felt like someone became obsessed with the same cassette as I did thirty years ago, but actually got around to letting the hen out.
The new album from Jen Cloher is magnificent, and when her Twitter account favorited the playlist entry for the lead track tonight, I near swooned. I recommend you listen to I Am The River, The River Is Me from start to finish, and enjoy something you’ll be doing for years to come for the first time. In other news, our recently adopted cat Princess Otoboke Beaver (aka Pris) gave birth to four healthy kittens on St. Patrick’s day — Ziggy, Stardust, Spider, and Mars.
It’s a bitterly cold night, though the thermometer is not the lowest it’s been this winter. Warming things up is King Tuff, whose twisted bedroom psychedelia is heating up my house in the manner of an unexpected early spring. It’s a strong start for an extended set of sounds simultaneously catchy and powerful. Technical note: The Mixtape sounds best when recorded on TDK SA90 cassettes. Do not attempt to do this on Maxell XLIIs.
It’s a formula as old as time — take four Japanese ladies, dress them up in color-coordinated dresses and makeup, and have them play aggressive earworms featuring kawaii harmonies and the lethal precision of a veteran death metal band. And yet somehow Otoboke Beaver rise above the rest of the entrants in this crowded field. Who am I kidding, they are one of a kind, and if you’re not listening to their latest album on repeat, you are missing out on a lot of endorphins.
It’s dense and it feels implacable, yet at the same time it’s sweet and comforting, like a punked-out beach blanket bingo, with cascading fuzz pedals and the feeling that the next wave is going to crest even higher.
If you are in for a partial reenactment of the British Invasion, complete with skirling organs and fuzz guitar stabs all dancing about feverishly, all in the space of about a half-hour, this vinyl reissue of a lost gem from the turn of the century is your ticket.