Lana Del Rey “Without You”

The funny thing about Lana Del Rey’s Born to Die is that after a while, it begins to sound like 15 rough drafts for a statement song in which she lays out all of her themes and tells you who she is. It’s rare to come across an artist so eager to explain herself, but given the way the world has responded to her thus far, there probably isn’t an artist alive who actually requires this much self-defense. But it gets very boring, and there are diminishing returns: I think that she is successful in setting up ideas and themes with genuine emotional resonance in “Born to Die,” “Video Games” and “Without You,” but for the most part, it’s a plodding, overlong and repetitive record that, on a lyrical level, tells rather than shows.

“Without You” sketches out the Lana Del Rey persona as well as the public’s reaction to it. The lyrics sound like a parody of sad glamour: “Everything I want I have / Money, notoriety, rivieras / I even think I found God In the flash bulbs of your pretty camera / Pretty cameras, pretty cameras / Am I glamorous? / Tell me, am I glamorous?” She complicates this by bringing a messy love affair into the equation, which is sort of conflated with the public’s desire to destroy its pretty celebrities. This is well-mined lyrical territory – Lady Gaga’s first two albums were mostly about this, but were way more fun and humorous – but beyond Del Rey’s own designs on attaining fame, there’s something to this fantasy that resonates with normal folks. “Lana Del Rey” is a familiar archetype, but this tension of striving to please others and construct a pleasing identity for others - to “have it all” – is familiar to many people, most especially women. And our culture loves to tear down women, whether they are famous or not.

Part of what makes Born to Die interesting – or problematic – is that the singer so fully inhabits the vapidity and passivity of the character that it’s hard to tell if the artist is also vapid and passive. I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt and assume that this is indeed a character, and that she is attempting to write a critique of a certain lifestyle and point of view. It seems obvious to me that this is the case, even if there is quite a lot that Lizzie Grant and “Lana Del Rey” have in common, especially as she grows more famous and spends all her time living out that role. I do think a lot of the intensely negative response to LDR is the result of her often simplistic and sloppy way of creating this character – it’s so easy to pick apart, so easy to assume the worst of it. As campy as this music can be, she doesn’t give the listeners many “yes, I am definitely being ironic” cues, so it’s easy to take it at face value and take it as a deeply un-feminist record.

More than that, I think the thing that really rubs people the wrong way is in how the songs, the videos, the project overall, convey a terrible desperation. This is where it is most difficult to tell the difference between Lizzie Grant and Lana Del Rey: Just as much as these songs are about people who are truly desperate for affection, attention and validation, the singer herself comes across as someone very awkwardly attempting to ingratiate herself with her audience. The best moments on Born to Die are squirm-inducing because of this - her faux-naif inflection on “I heard you like the bad girls / honey, is that true?” is the record’s clear high water mark – but not everyone wants to squirm to their pop music. This is an uncomfortable record, but also one that is not entirely successful. It’s hard to know exactly how to judge it, but I think I’m more favorable toward its best songs because I’m willing to feel a bit of empathy for both the singer and the character. I don’t think this was an easy record to make, and I’m glad to see someone go this far out on a limb, even if it’s sorta cravenly commercial in some ways. There are just far too many records that get applauded for taking zero risks, you know?

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Perfume Genius “Hood”

“Hood” is an expression of a deep, consuming fear that one’s partner will leave them if they ever truly knew them. It’s a bit painful to hear because Mike Hadreas’ lyrics and performance are so raw and direct, but it’s beautiful mainly because you can hear him resisting this anxiety, and struggling to have faith in the notion of unconditional love. Or, maybe, trying to come to terms with the possibility that his lover might not think there is anything wrong with him at all.

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Wire “Clay” (Black Session Version)

The original studio recording of “Clay” from last year’s Red Barked Tree was fine, but a bit pinched and stiff, with production that seemed a bit dated – too late 90s, maybe? I can’t exactly place it, but it’s the sound of bad computers. This live recording from the band’s Black Session LP is drastically superior. The tone of the song is just the same, but the performance benefits from a slightly more slack physicality. One could never describe Wire as a loose band, but unlike the studio recording, all the parts in this version sound like they come from the movements of human arms and legs. And yes, pretty much all music is the result of the human body in motion, but the best of it in some way communicates that to the listener. The attack of a chord, the hit of a drum, the seconds it takes to move from one chord to another. We’re listening to that abstraction of physicality to rhythm and melody; it’s part of how we connect to it. We’re always trying to find people on the other end of songs.

Not all of the live versions on Black Sessions are improvements upon the originals – Colin Newman has some trouble hitting his notes in the classic “Map Ref. 41ºN 93ºW,” and generally sounds less engaged when singing the older numbers – but it’s still an impressive document of a remarkably consistent band that has long since settled into a clearly defined aesthetic.

Buy it from Wire.

Chairlift @ Bowery Ballroom 1/23/2012
Sidewalk Safari / Le Flying Saucer Hat / Take It Out On Me / Wrong Opinion / Ghost Tonight / Cool As A Fire / Planet Health / Met Before / Frigid Spring / Guilty As Charged / I Belong In Your Arms // Evident Utensil / Amanaemonesia

I reviewed Chairlift’s wonderful new album Something for Pitchfork. Here are some thoughts on this performance.

Chairlift “I Belong In Your Arms”

1. Chairlift are clearly confident and bold enough to skip their most famous song in concert. I don’t think anyone was too upset about this. While I tend to think that artists should be generous in playing their best-known songs, they weren’t wrong to place the emphasis on their very, very strong new songs and to make a case that they don’t really need “Bruises” to play a good, engaging set. Audience response to songs like “Amanaemonesia,” “Met Before” and “I Belong In Your Arms” suggest those songs are going to end up being “hits” with their fans anyway.

2. The band’s sound is just as clean and precise in concert as it is on record. I’m a sucker for this sort of hyper-professionalism, particularly when a group projects a good, positive energy rather than rote recital. Olga Bell from Bell joined the band on keyboards and backing vocals - she nailed her parts, and served as a fine foil to Caroline Polachek, who was freed up to focus on her vocals and dancing. Polachek’s vocal performance was outstanding and she was charismatic enough that her talent for nuanced phrasing and vocal restraint was not lost in the less forgiving dynamics of a stage performance.

3. A strange young woman jumped on to the stage during “I Belong In Your Arms” and tried to dance up on Caroline. A female security guard tried to pull her away, but the girl resisted, and accidentally hit the singer in the face as she tried to perform. A second guard showed up, but the girl was still flailing around, refusing to get off stage. Caroline made it through the song, but was visibly startled and laughing at the absurdity of the situation. It was a really strange thing to see, and pretty unexpected at this sort of pop show.

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Now that we’re coming up on the end of the first month of 2012, the number of new releases from indie and alternative rock artists and bands are starting to stack up. Last week, we featured new releases from a bunch of DIY bands – most of who sent us fresh, legal tracks from just [...]

Read more, get songs or stream the entire mix on Indie Rock Cafe

Imperial Teen “No Matter What You Say”

Imperial Teen come and go, turning up every six years or so to deliver a new set of lovely indie pop tunes that don’t quite fit in with anything else out at the time. Their identity is very consistent, but the character of each record is a bit different — in the case of Feel the Sound, their latest, they are mostly favoring keyboards over guitars. As a result, the sound is lighter and brighter, which serves some songs better than others. I like the way the simple keyboard part in “No Matter What You Say” is gently insistent, so even before the harmonies and rhythm whoosh up a bit in the chorus, you have a sense that the music is starting to pick up a light breeze. It’s a great sentiment to pair with the feeling of the music too — defiant, but politely so.

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Etta James was a singer who I always enjoyed on the periphery…in other words, I never made a concerted effort to really get that deep into her catalog but I understand, on a very basic level, that this was a Very Important Artist and not just because she sang one of the very best ballads ever sung in the history of people singing ballads. ¹

So for this appreciation, I’m not going to try to pull off some “Etta James’s most important songs” post because I simply can’t claim to know this. I can, however, offer up some of her songs that I discovered over the years that I’ve enjoyed. Hope you will too.

Etta James: Leave Your Hat On
From Etta James (Cadet, 1973)

This was the first EJ recording I ever bought, mostly because 1) I thought the cover looked cool and 2) it sounded funky.² Even then, I knew this was a bit of a departure for James in terms of her most classic Chess sides from a decade earlier but she sounded pretty good (I mean, it’s Etta James) and the L.A.-based band she rocked out with held it down pretty well too. This LP used to be a super-easy find (presumably since “At Last” fans couldn’t hang with it); definitely worth copping on the cheap.

Etta James: I’d Rather Go Blind + I Got You Babe
From Tell Mama: The Complete Muscle Shoals Sessions (Cadet, 1968)

“I’d Rather Go Blind” was one of two songs included on the infamous Soul Sides Black Label collection but it wasn’t to many years later that I realized she had recorded this song with the Muscle Shoals band. Funny enough, I was watching the pilot episode to the new HBO series, Luck and this song came out of nowhere during a scene. Seemed apropos.

James’s cover of “I Got You Babe” might as well make you forget that it’s a Sonny and Cher tune; the band is murdering it on the rhythm track and though James sounds mixed a bit low, she still sizzles.

Etta James: Stormy Weather
From At Last! (Chess, 1960)

My interest in the At Last! album wasn’t from the title song, it was actually from hearing her rendition of “Sunday Kind of Love” on…um…a Dockers ad. ³ And in finally listening to her most classic longplay, I discovered this absolute lovely version of “Stormy Weather.” I’m sure it’ll be in some khakis ad in the future.

Sugar Pie Desanto and Etta James: Down In the Basement Pt. 1
From 7″ (Cadet, 1966). Also on Go Go Power.

I heard this at Funky Sole when Miles threw it down and had no idea that Sugar Pie Desanto and James had ever collaborated. Love this squawking kind of R&B cooker.