One of my Favorite Singers Ever and I share a birthdate. A love of
the 90's Big Four from Seattle inevitably led to explorations of the
secondary sounds of the time and place and the Screaming trees have held
up better than some.. There are other good bands from that era but
something about that voice that's only gained in gravitas and gravel
over the years. Others prefer Nick Cave or Tom Waits for those
melancholic moods associated with hard drinking and general
curmudgeonliness but this is where I find it.
The Screaming Trees were my entry band, dinged-up library copies of Sweet Oblivion and Dust. I'm
assuming they never got as big due to not being as poster-boy-ready as
the heavier hitters, but ten years past my late teens, I'm still
listening to these, the comforting chord progressions, the misanthropic
psychedelia, and lapsed Catholicism striking a deep chord that only
continues to reverberate.
Last
year's odds and sods comp was welcome for its additional tuneage and I
have yet to figure out if anyone else besides me and Randal cares that
it's floating around. Thankfully the Best Record Store Ever had a hard
copy so I didn't have to resort to the evil that is itunes.
In the meantime, there were the collaborations, with Queens of the Stone Age, with Brits doing electronica.
The
Soulsavers rekindled the love of that voice once again and on their
jaunt through the States, I caught them at the Grog Shop, standing there
a few feet away as we collectively swooned to the depth of that voice,
and the corroding guitar courtesy of Spiritualized alumni.
Revival made it onto every mix CD for a few years. It still melts me. Kingdom of Rain led me back to the solo albums I ignored for so long as they weren't grungy enough for my teenage ears.
Showing posts with label mark lanegan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mark lanegan. Show all posts
Monday, November 25, 2013
Sunday, November 25, 2012
someone also has a birthday.
One of my Favorite Singers Ever and I share a birthdate. A love of the 90's Big Four from Seattle inevitably led to explorations of the secondary sounds of the time and place and the Screaming trees have held up better than some.. There are other good bands from that era but something about that voice that's only gained in gravitas and gravel over the years. Others prefer Nick Cave or Tom Waits for those melancholic moods associated with hard drinking and general curmudgeonliness but this is where I find it.
The Screaming Trees were my entry band, dinged-up library copies of Sweet Oblivion and Dust. I'm assuming they never got as big due to not being as poster-boy-ready as the heavier hitters, but ten years past my late teens, I'm still listening to these, the comforting chord progressions, the misanthropic psychedelia, and lapsed Catholicism striking a deep chord that only continues to reverberate.
Last year's odds and sods comp was welcome for its additional tuneage and I have yet to figure out if anyone else besides me and Randal cares that it's floating around. Thankfully the Best Record Store Ever had a hard copy so I didn't have to resort to the evil that is itunes.
In the meantime, there were the collaborations, with Queens of the Stone Age, with Brits doing electronica.
The Soulsavers rekindled the love of that voice once again and on their jaunt through the States, I caught them at the Grog Shop, standing there a few feet away as we collectively swooned to the depth of that voice, and the corroding guitar courtesy of Spiritualized alumni.
Revival made it onto every mix CD for a few years. It still melts me. Kingdom of Rain led me back to the solo albums I ignored for so long as they weren't grungy enough for my teenage ears.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
I'm crawling all over the carnival
Eschewed Perry Farrell & Co. for cheaper thrills with the Queen of the Bondo and Rocker Librarian, and thus we drove to the fairgrounds and people-watched the streams of humanity, cheered at the crunched metal of the demo derby qualifiers, alternately admired and were weirded out by garden produce, poultry that for some reason raised hell when I walked in despite my lack of consuming their meats, sundry cakes and wines, and collections of strange things.
I was expecting the compilations of Star Wars and WWII memorabilia, and theorized that beer steins will be the next trendy thing for the rust belt hipsters, but not the ensemble of shrunken heads, "fairy gardens" or the coffee mugs painted with wizards or the quilt that looked morbid with its red roses and skulls and on further inspection was revealed to be a tribute to the Grateful Dead. Sadly, photos of such things did not turn out,. I'm also kind of freaked out by being up close to farm animals, being a lifelong city kid. Good times all around though, and I'm glad I live in a town where I can see Shakespeare one night and more proletarian pursuits the next.
I was expecting the compilations of Star Wars and WWII memorabilia, and theorized that beer steins will be the next trendy thing for the rust belt hipsters, but not the ensemble of shrunken heads, "fairy gardens" or the coffee mugs painted with wizards or the quilt that looked morbid with its red roses and skulls and on further inspection was revealed to be a tribute to the Grateful Dead. Sadly, photos of such things did not turn out,. I'm also kind of freaked out by being up close to farm animals, being a lifelong city kid. Good times all around though, and I'm glad I live in a town where I can see Shakespeare one night and more proletarian pursuits the next.
Monday, April 2, 2012
if tears were liquor
I didn't used to like Mark Lanegan's voice when he sang for the Screaming Trees, but like most good slow-burn things, it grew on me, and since that band broke up, I've followed his solo career and collaborations closely, loving some of his work for the way it tingles my spine and moves my soul when staying up late painting, huddling in grunge layers around the house on wintry snowbound days, and driving through deserted streets late at night.
It's mix CD music, tracks I play on the radio and throw on CDs for everyone, but music that I listen to alone almost exclusively. I saw him perform with the Soulsavers a few years back and had the time of my life alone in the Grog Shop with my eyes closed, enraptured to hear that timbre six feet away as powerful as ever.
So I heard the new record reflected his love of synthy general 80's-ness and was reluctant to pick up the album without listening to it first courtesy of the local bibliotheque. I don't fault that as selling out or going with the times because my musical taste goes down all sorts of weird rabbit holes too, but there are certain things that are more my thing, and I infinitely prefer guitars to keys and prefer my electronica to be organic, dark and melancholy rather than 80's-clubby.
So the first cut has the whole Queens of the Stone Age-ish stomp, which is cool and more what the last outing with the band was like when he was dueting most swankly with PJ Harvey (which I would have preferred as a collaboration more than Isobel Campbell) and wailing about methamphetamines.
Track two is chill and bluesy, muddy water and rain, like a chillout companion to 'When the Levee Breaks,' hypnotic that it seems like it could go on longer than six-plus minutes.
Gray Goes Black has the echoes of skittish post-punk reverberating through it, but I find myself skipping to St. Louis Elegy already, sounding like part of the lost sequel to Saturnalia with the atmospheric feel and the harmonies of Greg Dulli.
There's some synthastic numbers on here that just aren't my thing, but that The Kids might dig, and the rest hasn't quite sunk in yet. Some albums are growers, some wear thin in a few listens, we'll see where this one falls, though it's not quite Whiskey for the Holy Ghost or Saturnalia yet for me...
It's mix CD music, tracks I play on the radio and throw on CDs for everyone, but music that I listen to alone almost exclusively. I saw him perform with the Soulsavers a few years back and had the time of my life alone in the Grog Shop with my eyes closed, enraptured to hear that timbre six feet away as powerful as ever.
So I heard the new record reflected his love of synthy general 80's-ness and was reluctant to pick up the album without listening to it first courtesy of the local bibliotheque. I don't fault that as selling out or going with the times because my musical taste goes down all sorts of weird rabbit holes too, but there are certain things that are more my thing, and I infinitely prefer guitars to keys and prefer my electronica to be organic, dark and melancholy rather than 80's-clubby.
So the first cut has the whole Queens of the Stone Age-ish stomp, which is cool and more what the last outing with the band was like when he was dueting most swankly with PJ Harvey (which I would have preferred as a collaboration more than Isobel Campbell) and wailing about methamphetamines.
Track two is chill and bluesy, muddy water and rain, like a chillout companion to 'When the Levee Breaks,' hypnotic that it seems like it could go on longer than six-plus minutes.
Gray Goes Black has the echoes of skittish post-punk reverberating through it, but I find myself skipping to St. Louis Elegy already, sounding like part of the lost sequel to Saturnalia with the atmospheric feel and the harmonies of Greg Dulli.
There's some synthastic numbers on here that just aren't my thing, but that The Kids might dig, and the rest hasn't quite sunk in yet. Some albums are growers, some wear thin in a few listens, we'll see where this one falls, though it's not quite Whiskey for the Holy Ghost or Saturnalia yet for me...
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