“The things I experienced were quite unreal. I’ve been totally out there. I can honestly say I’ve experienced everything Aldous Huxley wrote about in The Doors Of Perception. Drugs–specifically marijuana–played their part.” Shields says a book called Hypnogogia “literally saved me and made me feel sane.” Hypnogogia is the term for that state just before sleep where you have brief surreal flashes of scenes, almost like cartoons. Reading the book (the author’s name escapes Kevin), Shields found an explanation for his insomniac habits and aesthetic preoccupations. The author makes parallels between hypnogogia and all the other extremes of the human mind, mystical and drugged. Basically, there’s a door to another type of consciousness and it’s open all the time.

“When You Sleep” is not my favorite Loveless track, but I’m glad to post it for two reasons (apart from its obvious relevance to the “sleep” series of posts I’m doing): 1. A while back I did some jiggery-pokery on the track (utlizing out of phase stereo) that brought up in the mix ever so slightly a wibbly-wobbly guitar part that had been buried; and 2. there’s a neat cover of the song by The Antlers to point out as well (see the Mockingbirds page).

My Bloody Valentine: When You Sleep

L-R: Kip (guitar, vox), Peggy (keyboards, vox), Alex (bass)

Picking up with the Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Catbirdman asked them about their songwriting process:

Peggy: We hang out a lot, so I feel like it kind of comes out of that, in a way, you know.

Kip: Yeah, the songs are just mostly about us, our lives and stuff. Like, I come up with maybe an idea for a song…. I mean like in between jacking off in my bedroom I write some songs and then I bring them to the band … and if they think they suck …

Kurt: We change them around.

Kip: It’s kind of like a seed, then everyone waters it, rakes it, and worships it. And then it’s like it grows.

Peggy: It’s democratic in all the right kind of ways, I think.

Kurt: It has to pass the Peggy dancing test, because if Peggy doesn’t dance then we don’t play the song.

Alex: That’s true. It helps to have Kurt too, ’cause Kurt like knows stuff about music. Cause if he’s like “we have this song literally already; you didn’t have to write it again,” then we throw it out.

Kip: Honestly, it’s like….It becomes so much like… I feel like that’s the thing… Who writes the song… It doesn’t matter who writes the songs; it’s like who actually plays it and the way they play it. If all the songs were about how I wrote it, it would all be the same drum beat and it would suck. But the fact that we did play it all together and like everyone working on their own parts, it makes it a Pains song.  You know, it’s like not like some dudes like, Kip and the so and so’s. It’s like, everyone like writes their parts and the fact that it’s good is not because of my demos, my demos suck. You guys listen to my demos. They’re like pretty crappy, and if you listen to the real songs, they’re actually good. It’s not because of me, it’s because everyone says, “Oh, it sounds good but it would be better if I did this and stuff.” It’s like a cool democratic process where everyone kind of contributes their own.

Alex/Kurt: It’s like there’s a template in Kip’s ear. (laughter) There’s a template on Kip’s computer and it’s up to us to break out of the template. Destroy the template. (laughter) We break the template and we make it good.

Kip: I listened to Piebald the other day. They were like trying too hard to have like 87 different parts of the song.

Alex: We don’t have that capability.

Kip: It’s like sometimes bands try too hard. I’m gonna write like “Bohemian Rhapsody” but in Emo. (laughter) And I’m kind of like “Oh that first part of the song you were playing was really cool. Why did you have to go into like the 17 other parts of the song?”

Peggy: Yeah, we only have 3 parts.

Kip: I mean like, seriously, it’s kind of fun to joke about it, but what makes our songs good is that the people in the band are just open and like, friends, and there’s not an awkwardness about it. If Kurt starts playing a cool drum beat, everyone is pretty receptive to it because we all know Kurt’s much better at drums than I am. So it’s kind of like a general respect for each other, and the musical vision, the outcome, is kind of a product of all of us.

Catbirdman: So when you take over, and you tour all the arenas of the world, what are you going to do for the environment?

Kip: We’re definitely not gonna tour all the arenas of the world – ’cause that would hurt the environment.

Peggy: Oooooh.

Alex: Trick question.

Kip: Oh, we’re biodegradable.

Kurt: We’re not going to play any Cablevision shows.

C: How do you feel about the reception you’ve had?

Kurt: It’s so good. It’s fun. Honestly, it’s fun.

Peggy: Yeah, it’s more than we ever expected.

Kip: It totally exceeds our expectations. And some of the bands we love, that weren’t really appreciated in their time… Now it’s like The Vaselines get like reissued in triple LPs and stuff, and everyone appreciates them, but when they were making music, its like, most people didn’t. Same with most of the bands like Rocketship or … I don’t know, it’s like the stuff that’s considered canonical now…..They didn’t get to experience the joy of playing to a packed group like tonight with everyone being so psyched.

Alex: I mean like honestly why are you in a band? You’re in it to have fun with your friends, and to have people care about and respond to it. A: It’s like a given, that’s why we do it.
B: It’s like so much of a bonus. It’s so fun to see anyone just showing up and caring and dancing. It’s like the most fun you could have.

Kip: I could totally imagine us playing these same songs, the same set, in rooms to nobody. It’d still be fun. It’d still be awesome.

C: I hear in your songs a yearning to get to a place that’s like a perfect moment and a moment of elation. I think of “Come Saturday” where you’re expecting a lover to come into town and everything’s perfect right now. I think of “Hey Paul” …

Kip: Ah “Hey Paul”’s a really cool song. It’s about my friend Paul. He used to be in this really cool band, Cocaine Unicorn, and all of the lyrics are just kind of like Cocaine Unicorn songs. It’s kind of like all his song lyrics and we just made a song about him. They’re really good (Cocaine Unicorn). They kind of had a little problem with drugs, Cocaine Unicorn. When I lived in Portland they were my favorite band of all time and they were too much … they’re a little too like wasted to record all his songs … I made a song about him with his lyrics. I don’t know. I don’t know what a perfect moment is. I was looking out the window today and it was like overcast and rainy and all the trees were green and I was thinking how that was just great.

C: And I was looking at the withered wisteria on my deck and the clouds, knowing it was perfect as well.

Kip: There you go.

Will the Pains find their perfect moment? Tune in for Part 3 of this interview early next week.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart: Hey Paul
The Pains of Being Pure at Heart: Come Saturday (Live KEXP 2-9-09)

L-R: Kip (guitar, vox), Alex (bass), Peggy (keyboards, vox), Kurt (drums)

Caught in the midst of a long North American and European tour, the members of the Pains of Being Pure at Heart discuss their sleeping habits:

— She says that I make weird noises in my sleep
— You do make weird noises!
— She says that I talk in my sleep all the time
— Yeah, you do
— You go like this: “Eeeeeee”
— You make moaning noises

This gentle, pokey exchange illustrates the light-hearted repartee that flows freely from this group. Too naive and too wise to look their fame straight in the eye, they prefer to stick to the simple stuff that got them here.

Peggy (keyboard, vocals): We started out just as friends playing music, and like, wanting to play my birthday parties. It wasn’t about making it or anything like that.

Kip (guitar, vocals): I knew Alex from work and I got set up on a dude date with Kurt. I don’t know how to explain it.

Kurt (drums): We’re still going out.

Kip: We’re going steady. We moved in together.

Kurt: It’s gotten more serious (laughs).

Alex (bass): The funny thing about it is we all met in different ways, but I feel like each way that we met was always about being music nerds in a very specific way. Kip and I met cause we were in the same work space, but we became friends because we nerded out about music. Peggy and I met because of a mutual music nerd friend.

Kip: We didn’t form a band based on who could play what, but it worked in a good way. It’s like Voltron, like special powers unite to form a cogent whole. (Laughter) No, it is, in a weird way, like, everyone kind of contributes, and it’s totally balanced. Everyone has their own skills, but we didn’t form out of some back of a magazine type thing … like, “oh, do you know how to play some mad licks on the guitar?”

Kurt: It’s like mainstream music is like the Decepticons. (mad laughter) To extend that metaphor a little bit.

A: It’s like Slumberland, he’d be Optimus Prime, moving all the pieces.

P: I’d be like, I don’t know, the girl that sleeps and doesn’t sleep. I’m an extra character that just has insomnia all the time.

Kip: I just feel like there’s room for all kinds of music in the world, and our band is about dudes and chicks hanging out and playing music. Doesn’t mean that’s the only answer to life. It’s what we like to do, it’s the kind of music we like to play, and it’s not like …

P: Calculated.

Kip: It’s not calculated at all.

A: There’s no world domination plan.

Catbirdman: I am intrigued by the name. Being pure of heart is just something that is stark (“That’s so gay,” says Peggy) and your album cover is stark. Where did it come from and what is it like to be pure at heart?

P: It’s sad but true. I don’t know what it’s like. It must be like heaven, I don’t know.

Kip: Sad but true seems right. Its a name of a short children’s story written by a friend of mine in Portland, Oregon, and the children’s story was called “The Pains of Being Pure at Heart.” The moral of it was that the time you spent when you were young with good friends (Peggy: “Wait Kip, you don’t have any friends … just kidding!”) is more important than, you know,  worldly accomplishment. It’s just about appreciating the experiences you have when you’re young and like, with your friends and hanging out and going on tour and traveling and stuff.

C: Are you trying to recreate that in your music?

A: It just comes out.

Kip: Our music is pretty natural. It’s just like who we are and what we do and it’s not like really thought out that well. (Peggy: “It’s kind of like E E E E, A A A A, B B B B”) It’s a record of all the fun, weird …

P: I feel like our songs are really simple, but who we are comes out through the songs. That’s what’s special, cause like, obviously that’s who we are, really special … just kidding! (laughs)

C: Well the world seems to think you’re really special right now, and obviously you know there’s a huge buzz. I’ve tried to remain as unsullied by that as possible, and come with a pure heart as well, and you only get that in Baltimore.

Kip: Baltimore is so fun.

P: Guitar Center is awesome.

Kurt: Guitar center is not awesome.

Kip: No, Baltimore’s great.

P: I really like Video Hippos from Baltimore. (Kurt: “Video Hippos are great.”) I love them. We played one show with them, with my old band I was in, which like, nobody knew who we were. I don’t know how he found out, but he found out about us, and he like, wrote me, “You wanna play a show?” They are really amazing, like two guys, it’s like Godhead Silo. Never mind, I digress, because Kip’s giving me a side glare.

Kip: Side glare? I wasn’t even looking at you.

C: I was thinking last week when I was listening to your record, that you guys got a really great mix, and it wasn’t until tonight when I was reading through the liner notes that I saw you mixed it here in Baltimore.

Kip: Yeah, Oh yeah. Archie!! [Archie Moore]

P: Archie!!!

A: That was so good.

Kip: Slumberland is based out of Maryland from the beginning. Mike Slumberland [a.k.a. Mike Schulman], who runs the record label went to University of Maryland in the mid ’80s and he had a cool college radio show. He started the label.

Kurt: They use the old computers that like used paper to like punch things out. Like punch cards.

A: This Slumberland thing is really cool cause it seem like all part of a weird club… well, not like a club, but, there’s a respect for everyone who’s been a part of it, and Archie was a part of it from … in so many different ways … and when we, you know, hooked up with Mike from Slumberland, and he was like “You should have Archie mix it.” And they were still in touch from way back in the day. It’s just all such good feelings between everyone who does it.

P: That sounds really trite but it’s true.

A: It’s totally true. It sounds really cheesy, “everyone gets along and everyone wants to help each other out.” But it just is that way. Like, he did it out of the goodness of his heart. He had a newborn and he took time out to do it and nevermind that, he’s also talented and he like made us sound awesome.

Kip: Seriously, I feel like the reason people appreciate the record is because of Archie’s involvement. He was like, “I know what bands you like, and I know what you want to sound like.”

A: He had a whole stack of albums there.

Kip: Yeah, it was really genuine and heartfelt. Yeah, he did it out of the decency of his time just to like, work with us. He was such a good guy.

P: It was also good just hanging out with him and talking about music with him and having sushi with him and everything.

Kip: He’s the coolest guy. Both Mike from Slumberland and Archie who mixed it are like the coolest dudes.

P: We loved hanging out with everyone.

A: It’s been like a charmed kind of existence. Because Mike’s been so awesome and Archie was so awesome.

C: So you guys hooked up with Slumberland relatively early in your existence?

Kip: Not really. The only record label that wanted to put our stuff out, so… (Laughter) Which is cool because they’re our favorite record label too. It’s actually their label we all really loved  growing up, and the fact that they wanted to be involved with it was really amazing. The one label we would’ve wanted to be with in our wildest dreams.

A: Yeah, we talked about it before … if it happened … that would be pie in the sky.

So, gentle reader, as the Pains enjoy their pie, please have another piece on me. Browse through the older posts and comment on what you like and don’t like, and do come back to check in again for Part 2 of this interview, more photos, and maybe a song or two.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart: Stay Alive
The Pains of Being Pure at Heart: The Tenure Itch (Live KEXP 2-9-09)

Deerhunter: Rainwater Cassette Exchange

It is morning in Baltimore, and I do not know if I will ever know love in its fullness. Yet I am cognizant of it; she calls. Sometimes she brings inspiration. Other times she washes over the land in a liquid morningrise; other times the day is utterly lost.

Slowdive’s 1991 Morningrise EP, on Creation Records:

Slowdive: Morningrise
Slowdive: She Calls
Slowdive: Losing Today

Asobi Seksu: Thursday
Asobi Seksu: Familiar Light

With the acoustic versions:

Asobi Seksu: Thursday (Acoustic)
Asobi Seksu: Familiar Light (Acoustic)

The general consesus on their latest album, Hush, is that Asobi Seksu haven’t made any bounding leaps forward. The songs are still just as solidly crafted, and the melodies are a slow soak in a warm bubble bath. Yet, it feels somehow like an anti-climax. Citrus was often accused of being little more than shoegaze by-the-numbers, an implausible criticism given the fact that the songs themselves could stand on their own as bubblegum anthems. In response, Hush eschews the overuse of obvious shoegaze techniques and delves more introspectively into song structures and internal machine works.

Actually, I was hoping they’d go even further into shoegaze, and just oversaturate all decency and sanity out of the rolling tape, and do something crazy. I was hoping they’d produce songs that sounded like perfect pop gems as heard in a dream, which sound wrong when you wake up. Instead, they’re painfully awake, with an inoffensive measure of Dreampop dressing.

The acoustic versions prove that regardless of the production, the songs will have hooks, quirks, and treats, all of which take time to emerge. These are songs that grow on you. What’s missing is the immediate, crushing thunderbolt. They need to completely lose it next time. Distort all the meters and make the engineers throw up their hands and walk out of the studio. Record it through a tin can with string, and then loop the delay within an inch of its life. And then record a straight version and mix the two together. And then kill it and start over.

"Sometimes I just sit and think, and I don't think much."

Tonight I saw Neil Halstead at the Talking Head.

Neil Halstead: Sometimes The Wheels
Neil Halstead: Oh! Mighty Engine (Myspace version)

We lost an hour this weekend, but it felt like ten hours. The big black bear was lumbering, lolling out on the mountaintop this weekend, and found time for a catnap, but none for this blog. So, in the interest of quick content, I throw all journalistic integrity (good thing I’m not a journalist) out the window right now as I recycle myself. This little blurb comes from Facebook, so it may be a repeat for some of you. It’s the inevitable top ten. More reliable even than the backlash that follows them is the perpetuity of the simple “top ten” list. Grumble if you must, but I thought they worked rather well in “High Fidelity,” and after all, many of us do order our lives this way, at least subconsciously. So, here are the top ten albums that influenced me as a fan and musician, and along with each choice is an mp3. Please enjoy, and, oh yes, please do share your top ten.

TEN
Pink Floyd The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn
Simply nuts. The only (semi-)coherent body of work we ever got out of Syd Barrett, and it’s a kaleidoscope of strange characters and bicycle parts. It’s the sheer invention that gets me.
Pink Floyd: Bike (mono version)

NINE
Deerhoof The Runners Four
There have been so many solid albums of the recent ‘Aughts, but this is the only one that I can say without hesitation is a GIANT, and I suspect will remain so for years to come. Again, it’s sheer invention.
Deerhoof: Running Thoughts

EIGHT
Bob Dylan Oh Mercy
I could have easily put Desire, Street Legal, Blonde On Blonde, or 5-6 others on this list, but I chose this reawakening from the ’80s, mainly for its post-Gospel soul searching and reverberation.
Bob Dylan: Ring Them Bells

SEVEN
American Music Club Mercury
Almost single-handedly put me on the wrong track mentally for 15 years, and convinced me that it was all too beautiful for words. Now that’s powerful stuff. Drugs schmugs.
American Music Club: I’ve Been A Mess

SIX
Neil Young Tonight’s the Night
One of the most harrowing and foggiest tributes to departed friends ever put to tape. This is what it sounds like when a caring man tries to stop caring.
Neil Young: Mellow My Mind

FIVE
The Innocence Mission Birds Of My Neighborhood
The most beautiful album I own, and the purest, most humble music it is possible for humans to make. The kind of music that gives me chills even after the 100th listen.
The Innocence Mission: The Lakes Of Canada

FOUR
Tindersticks Tindersticks (second album)
The persona that Stuart Staples brings to this exquisite music — ragged, classy, world-weary, wise in hindsight — soak through the listener’s experiences like scotch through ice.
Tindersticks: Tiny Tears

THREE
My Bloody Valentine Loveless
The aural equivalent to a painting with thick oils that look slightly different at different angles and in different light. The bent sound thrills me every time. “11″ isn’t loud enough for this album.
My Bloody Valentine: Soon

TWO
The Beach Boys SMiLE
This is hands-down the finest and most evocative body of music to come out of the collective pyschedelic dream of 1966. Tells the story of America in visual puns, and ventures into an elemental side-trip like a koan.
The Beach Boys: Cabin Essence

ONE
The La’s The La’s
The official version is good, but when you take the best bits and bobs from the various junked sessions, you’ve really got something. Urgent, desperate, wild-eyed, celebratory, despairing, and bad-ass. All extremes in life are here, like an apocalypse.
The La’s: Son Of A Gun (album version)

Stereolab taps into the Pulse

Tonight’s post is for an old friend of mine named Thad. He used to play guitar on stage with me back in ye olde salad days. We influenced each other quite a lot musically. From him, I got a general openness to musical delight. I credit mainly him and Kurt Lightner for that. They showed me that you can be a sponge, sucking up any old muck, and at the same time you can have standards. I was so stuck on a twisted definition of what was “cool” and what wasn’t.

What did Thad get from me? Ultimately you’d have to ask him, but I will relate one thing he once said in mixed company. He credited me for being the conduit to the appreciation of the Sacred Eighth Note. I suppose it really took off with the Velvet Underground (and someone – Crozier? – please chime in with a half-remembered quotation … was it Lou Reed who first spoke of this?), but it’s a hallmark of the post-punk era, it has resurfaced like clockwork every ten years or so, and it has remained my heartbeat ever since the teenage years. It’s a monotony, it’s a haze, it’s the sound of getting lost in music. It’s the Eighth Note Pulse. All hail.

I asked Thad what he remembered most about our shared musical experiences, and he mentioned some of the music posted below. So to Thad, then…

Thad, I had great, formative times with you. Thanks for helping me embrace my cool and for sharing in it. Tonight, I’ll post some songs that conjure up that aesthetic, and later, anytime after tonight in fact, you can check in on this blog, and chances are I will be posting some marvellous shapes and colors that I might have remained closed to had it not been for your generous spirit.

I’ve attempted to trace this religious rhythm at various touchpoints through recent years, starting with the Velvet Underground (the original?), and on to Joy Division (perfectors of the post-punk signature, and suitably, they carry the Pulse on the bass), Echo & The Bunnymen (close echoes and a seminal example in “Back Of Love”), the Cocteau Twins (progenitors of the ’90s shoegaze swell), the Boo Radleys (the most inventive of the shoegazers), and ending with Interpol (the original resuscitators of the ‘Aughts). From Interpol onwards, it just gets crazy, as do many things, with the profileration of ideas brought on by the Information Age. Further below, I’ve posted a fine example of the mantra in the Soft Pack’s double-sided package of bliss. And anyone who has ever namechecked the Arcade Fire will testify that the Eighth Note beats on. Much to our delight.

And please, let us all know what I have overlooked.

Velvet Underground: I’m Waiting For The Man
Joy Division: Transmission
Echo & The Bunnymen: The Back Of Love
Cocteau Twins: Cherry-Coloured Funk
Boo Radleys: Skyscraper
Interpol: Obstacle 2

Goodbye, good night, good morning

After updating the “Hibernation” page just now (and don’t forget to check that page for daily mp3s posted there), I got to thinking how the music of Ulrich Schnauss works both for going to sleep at night and getting up in the morning. Even a half-hearted follower of Subanimal Sounds can see that I’m a shoegaze junkie, and Ulrich Schnauss satisfies this fix enormously. Huge cavern swells, bigger than Slowdive. But he does it all hunched over a laptop. No guitars. Jay, if you’re out there, do you remember when we saw him down near the World Financial Center? Thoughts?

Ulrich Schnauss: Stars
Ulrich Schnauss: Gone Forever (Robin Guthrie Version)