"You love them, even as you think about backing away slightly."
The band’s broken up. Or there’s some sort of ‘hiatus’, allowing various members to indulge their own ideas. Or “Fuck you guys, I’m going to make my own record, coz youse cunce don’t take me seriously!” Yes, the eternal issue of the side-project, and the various shades thereof.
Canadians, being the kind of people they are, do it open-heartedly for the most part. Thus, Will Butler – aka the other one of that surname in The Arcade Fire – goes off into a land of mundane domestic angst and time passing in Friday Night (Merge). There’s a touch of the band’s declamatory preaching to this, but maybe just a little more restrained and worn edge to it. “Never been drunk, never been stoned” goes the central complaint of the song, but that seems more effect than cause. And bonus budgetary points for getting the wife and family to be the supporting cast in the clip.
One flipside of Canuckistan’s trademark politeness means there might be a little passive aggressiveness to them. The Weakerthans could be the emo’s emos, centred on a song about the reason your cat has strayed from home, written from the viewpoint of the damn cat. A lovely bit of romantic folly to explain away the fact Tiddles, sorry, Virtute (‘Virtute’, for fucksake…), is probably getting fed better by a family a couple of blocks away, or has been savaged by a raccoon. Anyway, band is on ‘hiatus’ - whatever than can mean, and frontman John K. Samson is now travelling under his own shingle, although for Postdoc Blues (Epitaph/Anti) he’s got his missus (and former associate band member) Christine Fellows, as well as the old rhythm section present. It’s kinda of the band reunion you have when you only ‘forget’ to invite the guitar player. Sorry Stephen Carroll, the invite must have got lost in the post. Samson’s preoccupations remain in a similar domestic oppressiveness as the above, but add references to a digital disconnection – not sure I’ve heard a song before which mentions troubles with Powerpoint as a plot point.
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Or sometimes, finding a new collaborator can be the breath of inspiration. Regarded electronica persons Lucian Blonkamp and Seekae’s John Hassell now operate together as Brutalist. The music is perhaps a little less musique concrete than the name might suggest. It’s shiny and reflective machine-made music, but does come with something of a sense of unease to it. Strep (Good Manners) is perhaps the instrumental muzak you’d hear in the elevator of the Tyrell Corporation building. Let’s see the level of discomfort they can conjure over the next works together.
So you’ve moved on. You and the other members of the band are seeing other people. Making other music. But you’re still fond of that ol’ thing you shared, and it retains some affection from its audience as well. From around the turn of this century Lazy Susan made some near-perfect classicist pop music, had some sideswipes rather than full-on collisions with airplay and mainstream appeal, but like so many before and since just got worn out by beating their head against the wall. But a couple of years on from retiring the name a riffle through the notepads, bottom drawers, and hard drives of their past find enough odds and ends to cobble together not one but two albums of offcuts, first thoughts, second guesses and ‘Gee, this one’s rather good – why didn’t we make that a single?’. From that final category, Square One (Independent). Good tune, with all their typical wit and askance storytelling - and good reminder of their quality.
But this pop music is a serious business. Preoccupations are hopefully not still wrestling with having to change their name from the ‘not real good for business’ brand of being The Vietcong. But the music of Degraded (Jagjaguwar) remains rooted in the agitprop end of early-80s post-punk, and the serious philosophising transplanted from that era. If you’re wondering what’s going on in the visuals, here’s the official explanation: “This video offers an encounter with the primordial ruins of a post-human landscape, where sentient sculptural artefacts attempt to reassemble themselves piece by piece. Unidentified abstracted organisms carry on and thrive in a terrain that’s begun to settle back into itself, as rendered in scenes of mixed digital and painted 2D and 3D animation.”
OK, sure.
Or you can try and find a balance point between educating and entertaining – this can be tough, as I try do it for you guys every week. But The Julie Ruin have a shot at it with Mr So And So (Hardly Art/Inertia). Kathleen Hanna still has the angry waver in her voice of someone trying to get some restraint on their righteous pissed-offedness as blokes continue to be blokes – not in a good way. Ms Hanna also directs the video, offering the frustrations of revolving doors and your Opal/Myki card not working in the turnstiles to further illustrate the point, as the frownlines in her forehead deepen. I do hope I’ve mansplained that well enough for you ladies of the reading audience.
Ah, that oft rightly derided beast, Australian hip-hop. But a happy surprise, the straight outta Canberra, but now residing in Sydney Coda Conduct. Erika and Sally manage to find that balance point of not sounding like they’re trying to be from the Chicago projects or oppressively Ozzie suburban as the words cascade out. Usually I’m Cool (Select/Inertia Access) also thankfully doesn’t rely on the often-grating forced bravado of so much of the form – there’s an object of affection, and he/she/they/it makes them a bit tongue-tied. Makes it all a bit more human, and that’s a good thing.
And there remains only one The Gooch Palms. Having now reached the dizzy heights of a bit of Rage programming, they now offer the ‘fuck off and leave me alone’ message of Don’t Look Me Up (Summer Camp) with their typical mix of serrated-edged pop style with occasional outbreaks of almost-punky guitar, all delivered with slightly manic grins. Has a range of hooks an audience can happily yell back at them, and some 8-Bit visuals in the clip for a little extra colour and movement. You love them, even as you think about backing away slightly.