Just so we’re clear, this is an official parody of “Friday,” not, um, Christianity. Worshippin’ worshippin’ (yeah)!

The thing I love best about Todd Rundgren, chosen from a long and competitive list, is his heart. In “Hello It’s Me,” his best and most popular song, he offers a fresh start to a wronged lover: “It’s important to me that you know you are free,” he bird-croons on the chorus. “I never want to make you change for me.” But the song’s best moment comes when he adds, almost as an afterthought, “I’ll come around every once in a while / or if I ever need a reason to smile / and spend the night if you think I should,” as horns bleat suggestively. In the soft-rock ’70s, plenty of masculine sincerity could be considered an easy cover for stoned skinny dudes trying to get laid, but Rundgren presents his feelings, amorous and otherwise, with credibility. Read the rest of this entry »

As proudly pop as it is fiercely raucous, Standard Fare’s The Noyelle Beat sounds like the Pretenders by way of the Promise Ring. The Sheffield act spends the album, its debut, successfully toeing the line between mathematical guitar aggression and twee softness, a marriage most prominent in sometimes-singer Emma Kupa’s unhinged but never unmelodic alto. It’s lo-fi but in the genre’s classic sense: low-budget and simply arranged and performed rather than buried in a trendy reverb-fuzz coffin.

The poppier moments lend heart to the guitar crunch and crashing drums, but even at its lightest, the band never slips below Speed Racer BPMs. Lyrically, Standard Fare stick mostly with love stories: an underage infatuation, a lover’s hoped-for return, narratives told with naivete and sincerity. On The Noyelle Beat, there’s plenty to fall for.

Standard Fare – “Dancing”: mp3

Related: Best of 2010

Stream the album in full after the jump Read the rest of this entry »

Photo by David Greenwald

Morrissey penning memoirs: He’s got 660 pages so far. William, it was really nothing. [TwentyFourBit]

Rufus Wainwright releasing House of Rufus box set: All his studio albums, a number of live sets and a handful of DVDs for an impressive 19 discs total. Want One remains my favorite, but last year’s All Days are Nights remains worth examining if you missed it. [Facebook]

Chad VanGaalen plays VBS.tv “Practice Space” session: Related: Chad VanGaalen is the best. [VBS]

The National drop video game soundtrack song: “Exile Vilify,” a swooning piano-driven ballad as good or better than anything on High Violet, arrives thanks to Portal 2. You can stream it. [Stereogum]

Photo by Sherwin!!!

Belle & Sebastian / on the radio / playing songs for children.

[Editor's note: This entry was originally posted in April 2007. It has been updated.] Here’s a few from their (at the time) yet-to-be-released comeback record, Dear Catastrophe Waitress. The Peel Sessions I’ve heard have all been laid-back, informal affairs more concerned with fun than impressing listeners, and this performance sounds no different.  Read the rest of this entry »

TOKYO POLICE CLUB – Wait Up (Boots of Danger) from Mitch Fillion (southernsouls.ca) on Vimeo.

Before Coachella, I thought to myself/said to anyone who would listen, “Wish Tokyo Police was playing Coachella again instead of the Strokes and their shitty new album, ugh,” and then the Strokes played the most effortlessly rock ‘n’ roll set of the whole weekend. Nevertheless! Here’s Tokyo Police Club playing my favorite Tokyo Police Club song thanks to fine videographer and fellow Canadian Southern Souls.

I was going to delete this e-mail, like I do nearly every e-mail these days. Why didn’t I? Sometimes you win the lottery. Zachary Cale is a Brooklyn songwriter of uncommon power, whose Americana opus “Hello Oblivion” evokes the Beatles’ “Julia” by way of Dylan’s warped croon and balances flawlessly between beautiful acoustic guitar work and a thunderous climax. Take a deep breath for this one.

Zachary Cale – “Hello Oblivion”: mp3

(Noise of Welcome is due May 17; the LP release is limited to 400 copies)

Photo by Alfra Martini

In 1999 and 2000, the years I began devouring indie rock as ravenously as my part-time job’s paycheck and a 56k modem would allow, I spent a lot of time listening to “The Chris Carter Mess,” a weekly three-hour block on the now-defunct Southern California radio station Y107. Unlike the Shins, it changed my life. It turned me on to everything from David Bowie to Fiona Apple, and a lot of really incredible sad bastard ballads in between: Hefner’s “Hymn for the Alcohol,” Luna’s “Dear Diary,” and a number of songs that are still my all-time favorites.

I found this song later, probably on an Audiogalaxy user group — I don’t remember the exact details, but essentially you’d download like-minded people’s recommended songs via P2P. (I found another gem, Bright Eyes’ “No Lies, Just Love,” there as well. Also a pre-fame coffeehouse Jason Mraz jam, but that’s neither here nor there. If you think there’s no serendipity on the Internet, you’re probably a real fun guy at parties.) At any rate, it occurred to me to track it down last night. I hadn’t listened to it in 8 years, but it still splits my heart right in two. Bands don’t really make music like this any more — fragile and pretty without having to dive into Olympic pools of reverb or even acknowledge that pop music continued after the Zombies and the Left Banke. If this song’s any indication, it could’ve quit while it was ahead.