words for nerds

I went to see Theresa Andersson at Amnesia on Saturday.  I didn’t really know anything about her before going.  The show was recommended to me by someone whose judgment I trust when it comes to what shows I will like.  I wrote up a little review that is slightly less slanted than my usual.  I am making an attempt to be more objective here:

Theresa Andersson is a one woman band.  As I was locking up my bike outside during the first song, I thought that she had back-up singers and was questioning my expectation of a “girl-and-a-guitar” show.  But as it turns out, it was a girl and a guitar and about a dozen pedals.  She refers to the numerous voices that she tapes and loops as “the kitchenettes,” and she tells their whole story as a part of her act.  She is comfortable on stage and commands an audience with her musical prowess, even the inattentive audience of Amnesia.  She is the exact musical embodiment of her influences.  She has a soul-full voice, which she is not afraid to use, and an uncanny sense of rhythm and funk, a clear reflection of her 18 years in New Orleans.  This serves her well when she is coordinating up to 6 pedaled loops and singing and playing guitar or violin or drums over-top.  She is also a beautiful, blonde, woman with a solid classical musical foundation– evident mostly in her classical vocal training and her classical guitar stylings– who is not afraid of, at times, wild experimentation, which is all a testament to her Swedish roots.  She grew up on a Swedish island in the Baltic, and while singing in Swedish, one would never have known that she isn’t Lykke Li or El Perro del Mar’s neighbor.  She could easily place herself among either the southern soul singers or among the Swedish rocker chics.

She is well rehearsed and puts on a great “show.”  Her looping, while practiced, is a bit muddier than, say, Andrew Bird’s.  And at times she relies a little too heavily on her vocals.  So she left me wanting to see more of her guitar and violin.  But “wanting to see more” is exactly how the overall show left me– she was good enough that I would see her again tomorrow if she was playing.

Sounds like: Candie Payne meets Lykke Li
Performs like: St. Vincent

My  non-objective opinion: I love this chic.  She is wild and funky and gets down.  She performs like a life-long musician– very New Orleans.  I’d highly recommend her show; it’s fun.

Bishop Allen [myspace]

Every time I come across them I remember how much I like their stuff.  It took me a while to get in to it, but I find that they are just edgy and raw enough, without leaving the indie-pop category, that I am drawn to them.  They are not what my musician friend, Joe Gee, calls “terminally unique.”  They are different, but not so much so that I can’t follow them.  I really like Bishop Allen and yet I don’t own anything of theirs.  I have a collection of their best songs that I have compiled from various sources, but no complete issues.  This is dumb.  I have a feeling that there are a number of songs that I would love if I ever heard them.

So I am on a CD hunt– I need to pick up some Bishop Allen (and J Tillman, and Maria Taylor, and Tegan and Sarah, and The Dodos, and …)

Andrew Bird wrote a piece for The New York Times.  (And then I fainted.)

The Mountain Goats have approximately 7,000 songs. Okay, that is not true. I mean, it might be. I have no idea exactly how many songs the Mountain Goats have, but I know that it is a lot, more than any other band that I know of, save maybe the Magnetic Fields including all of Stephin Merritt’s side projects. Anyway, it is easy to lose track of Mountain Goats’ songs, there are so many.

I saw The Mountain Goats play The Bottom of the Hill recently. They were fantastic, and John Darnielle was in particularly good spirits. When I go to a show it often triggers me listening to that band’s music for a while. I tend to pull out the old albums that I remember loving, that are the reason I would want to even go see the band’s show, but that I may not have listened to in a while. This was very much the case with The Mountain Goats. I remember being profoundly affected by The Sunset Tree (once I finally started really listening to it.) I had the album for a while but could never get in to it. Then one day in my old office I decided that I was going to listen to it enough to have a reasonable opinion, even if it was unfavorable. At the time I was facing some dark stuff in my life. I played The Sunset Tree while I worked. Then I played it again, and again. I drank in the whole album.

It was not until much later that I gained enough perspective to realize that this is a dark, dark album. There is suicide and death and abuse throughout the songs. But at the time I was unknowingly drawn to the darkness. I felt like I loved this album for inexplicable reasons. The reasons are clearer now. It is a brilliantly produced album of solid songs. It is lyrically and musically superb. The material might be disturbing, but that only added to my attachment.

Since seeing The Mountain Goats earlier this month, I have been listening to The Sunset Tree, remembering how much I like it and how surprised I was by my connection to what, at first, I hadn’t liked at all. But I have also realized that I had heard Against Pollution (from We Shall All Be Healed) a while ago on a mixtape and had a similar experience with that one song. I was put off at first, but then found that I craved it. I had not connected the two experiences until now. There is something about me and The Mountain Goats that requires time. I know that the music is to my liking, I just have to let it seep in slowly. I don’t always fall in love with it straight off the press. But in the end I’d put many of The Mountain Goats’ 7,000 songs on my “desert island” list.

I know, I only have a few tracks, but… this album made it on to a bunch of “Best of” lists, and I could not be more enthralled with the tracks that I have.

Lynn Teeter Flower Maria Taylor