Heathen Disco Music Reviews #0025

Hey gang. Only four reviews today. After a couple of spins of that Ned Collette LP, I wasn’t really sure I’d be able to give anything else a fair shake, and I was right. Besides, I’m getting ready to hit the road for a long weekend back home. Pittsburghers, you can catch me playing records with some of the Jellyfish crew at Umami Izakaya this Thursday, Sept 19th, 6-10pm, where we can compare robatayaki (got my eye on the whole flying squid, personally). Friends and well-wishers, get at me this weekend. Punishers, take the curb.

Let’s have it, then! [email protected] // PO Box 25717 Chicago IL 60625 USA

CLINIC STARS Only Hinting LP (Kranky)

If old goth/ethereal labels like Projekt and Bedazzled did not exist it would be necessary to invent them, if for no other reason than Clinic Stars, a duo from Detroit, sounds like they could have appeared on either with little difficulty, rolled into dramatic package tours with The Underflowers or Lycia or Ultracherry Violet, and preserved in dusty old CD collections and 128k MP3 rips. Their path is a well-worn one – diaphanous ethereal pop, acoustic strum and chorus pedal leads weaving through drum machines, synths, and breathy multi-tracked vocals – as is the group’s decision to adhere to the second stringers of this movement, but that may be the point: the familiarity of these eight songs is a comfort, like finding an old, beloved piece of clothing that holds all of the feelings you shedded into it decades before. About half the album moves into a more personal direction that holds the promise of new dimensions opening in this sort of music. Early Cocteaus/Dead Can Dance fans and people who still have a stash of clove cigarettes in the freezer can relate.

SHIRESE Hardly Cricket LP (Grapefruit / C/Site)

Third vinyl album / nth full-length by this New Haven collective, who shone on their “debut” Three Going on Four, and flourished on last year’s psychedelic drench Rose of Smiling Faces. This new one is a mild refinement of a related direction: “city rock” of the Thin Lizzy / Seger-Silver Bullet / Street Hassle variety, storytelling over rollicking late ‘70s radio riffs, and as admirable a job one can do in a world where V-3 is no more and The Hold Steady and The Gaslight Anthem exist. There isn’t a new way to do this, which is part of the hazards of this kind of retro expression this far out; no matter how ragged and righteous they present, it’s a locked-down formula, and someone else has come and dulled the knife’s edge before they got there. That shouldn’t be a deterrent to anyone who hasn’t heard too much, as it were. And this certainly isn’t a knock on Shirese, who here ably animate a long-dead form with the reverent degenerates who started it. All goes back to there being a reason we keep things underground; the surface is too gross to consider sometimes.

NED COLLETTE Our Other History LP/CD (Sophomore Lounge / Ever/Never)

Gorgeous folk melancholy here, peacefully lost in a bygone era where folk, jazz and downmarket environments merged in a loamy, tobacco-stained diorama of love and loss. It’s wild to me that after this many records the world, and the standard makers within it, are slowly starting to realize what is at stake on the undercard, and how much budget there is for respect to be truly paid (and I’m not alone in this sentiment; it’s what Will Oldham waxes upon on the liner notes to this release) – we are indeed in an era of being spoilt for choice, and it’s too easy to make the choice in front of you, rather than the one you’ll have to dig through it all to find, and what awaits your spirit once you find it. Some records don’t leave a mark, or just bare increments against the sort of psychic dent this one could impress on you. There’s a lot to think about in our world, and we look beneath it to find new things to fuel or fear. Look at the title of this record and think, as hard as you can, about what it could mean. You can hold multiple thoughts without allowing intrusions in, and there’s nothing inside Our Other History that will steer you into some false corner of engagement. People who offer you, themselves, anyone absolutely nothing of worth are front and center of your experience. You’re not a pawn. We’re all telling you the same things: this is the time to meet the moment. 

Ned Collette has never sounded better (to me, at least), borrowing freely from Donovan’s candlelit moments, vampiring the louche anima from Leonard Cohen’s dirges, and imprinting a secret history of ‘60s and ‘70s garden/terrace folk held in out-of-print books and by those who decide to spend their fortunes in chase of the feelings within. There isn’t a lot of flash on here, the large coterie of players (some Collette’s longtime affiliates, some of a different vantage, like The Necks’ Chris Abrahams on piano, or contributions from the Dirty Three’s Mick Turner and Jim White) steering this to its exact coordinates of a life, alone but surrounded by friends, which could be lived anywhere. Records are like this are precisely why you need to pay attention, and why music isn’t some generalized dying form. It’ll die if you ignore it, but eventually you’ll have chances to come around, and hopefully it won’t be too late. Imagine doing so now, while you can still afford it, and when it could make the most profound impact on you.

PARSNIP Behold LP (Anti Fade/Upset the Rhythm)

Without a US release behind them, this second Parsnip album seemed to fade from view (admittedly it came out before this newsletter’s launch; still I had to go flipping back through promo mailouts to remember this one even landed. But this is your opportunity to remember, as it may be even stronger than their debut. Some of the ‘70s bubblegum aspects have dropped off in favor of ‘80s-via-‘60s pop-folk songwriting, faces to the wind, with a group vocal dynamic that recalls Look Blue Go Purple at their most winning, esp. on the 1-2 punch of “Turn to Love” and “Clear Blue Sky.”

Protect me from the wrath of Ohio state troopers,

Doug Mosurock