There's a reason why this kind of music never really took off, or in fact wasn't even born out of a cold country. Well, actually, who knows the actual direct correlation, but basically it's very sunny music and it is & will be eternally associated with California. Which is where this four piece, Hot Flash Heat Wave, come from – specifically, San Francisco.
But location-schmocation, right? 'Dirty Dreamer (XXX)' is a lo-fi nu-doo-wop coastal groove, claps and stabs of golden guitar following a timeless pattern that is soaked in nostalgic americana. Vocals cut through in distorted serrations of sound, a who-the-fuck-cares lassitude simmering within, even though it's filled with hum-along hooks. Speaking of which, dig that bright guitar lick that pops up as a pre-verse treat, utterly dripping with cool.
More slapdashery arrives towards the end of the track, where a guitar solo breezes in a virtuosic tangle, something so totally satisfying about that sound: the perfect excitedly euphoric crescendo to a track seemingly inspired by swift, raucous romances.
This bit of music is really quite nice. For some reason, I haven't been able to shake the feeling of just having woken up all day today, leaving me with a hazy, fuzzy mind/brain. Not my favourite feeling. Just makes everything slow and depressing.
Then I re-discovered this band. I first heard them when I... well I can't remember, but I remember thinking, "Yeah, I'll write about that one day" - a few months on, here I am. The first song itself is four months old (second is 6 months old), but who caresss. Not I. They both comes from a Japanese band from Tokyo called DYGL (pronounced "day-glo") and it's called 'I'm Waiting For You'. It's a very nice number that brings to mind miscellaneous Americana - long drives, long beaches, surfing. That kind of sound.
Beginning with a delicate bit of clean guitar work that is very pretty with its reverb, almost fragile sounding, the rest of the song kicks in. It's a lo-fi number, that's for sure. The drums are so fuzzy that you can barely hear them, but it fits the distorted jangle of the guitars just fine, as well as lazily yelping vocals. It suits my mood.
There's a retro hint to it, especially in the way the guitar chords in the chorus move up and down the fret board with that stop-start, foot-tapping pattern. The refrain is yelled out and it all fits together perfectly. A great, catchy song, soaked in a nostalgia for something that is wholly un-Japanese - something I can relate to. You can watch that song live, too, at MARZ - a live venue in Shinjuku, Tokyo.
As for this other song, 'Nashville', there's that same nostalgia, but this time it's tinged with a tragic air. It makes this one more beautiful than 'I'm Waiting For You', simply because of the slow sadness that this song. The bass and chord progressions are something that we've all heard before, but they are just done with such a different attitude that makes them sound fresh.
I think it's the vocals in this song that make it stand out a little more, too. They switch between regular and falsetto, sounding at times as if they are longing for, aching for, something. Some memory or present desire that can't be attained. Given that the song's title is 'Nashville' and the band are from Tokyo - which are worlds away geographically and culturally - I think it can be guessed that it's a lovesong to the American city.
The guitar work is really nice, not just the chords, but far off twanging guitar solos like distant memories, the country-song swing that it has to it. This is a really underrated song that I think a lot more people should know, or at least hear once in their lives. A wonderful sound. There's a video too. Watch it.
Somehow, strangely, I have never heard of Summer Twins, or rather I had never heard of them until a few weeks ago. I saw their name, and photo, on a poster for a tour they were doing in Japan. I can't remember who was supporting on that tour, but it was probably someone I wrote about around that time. Anyway. That's just it: why are two girls, twins no less - Chelsea and Justine Brown - from California known more in Japan (presumption) than elsewhere? Strikes me as a little strange. But then again, didn't the Beatles try out their stuff in Germany first? I don't know.
In any case, Summer Twins are a duo (joined by an additional guitarist and bassist in concert) who make music with a doo-wop cheesy Americana 50s-60s feel, sometimes more rocky and up-tempo than others. It's melodic and romantic, cute and heart-wrenching, the kind of stuff that Best Coast would do minus the lo-fi and minus the distortion and less negativity. I think, anyway.
There are two songs from the Brown twins this time, both hot off the press and both from their upcoming Forget Me EP, out 4th June on Burger Records. I can start with the title track, 'Forget Me'.
With a pitch-bending, surf rock style guitar, the song begins and soon warps into a ballad with a catchy, toe-bopping guitar melody. The rhythm guitar echoes with nostalgia, as do the backing vocals and the main vocals themselves especially when they sing "I'm trying to forget you, so forget me" - it's magical stuff. Wobbly guitars stand in for tears as the drums beat a pattern around the emotion of the song.
It's definitely by-the-beach, drenched-in-sun kinda music, soaking retro Americana, big-bodied guitars and horn-rimmed glasses and pastel colours. All that. Next single from the EP, and the B-side to 'Forget Me' is the end of night sweetheart crooner, 'I'm No Good'.
From the beginning of this song with its opening lines "I'm no good / I'm no good for you..." it's clear what direction it's going in. It has such a cute doo-wop kinda sound, the vocals being somewhat more heartfelt than in the upbeat 'Forget Me', although it's broken up with a singular jagged break in the sound where the drums thump together with the guitars. The main guitar melody is a warbling arpeggio, backing vocals suitably softened like muted spotlights on a packed slow-moving dancefloor, everything in a 3/4 or 6/8 (whatever) waltzing rhythm, hands around the waist of an partner, prancing around the room. That's what this song is.
The first line of the whole of Mathieu Santos' stunning album Massachusetts 2010, in opener 'I Can Hear The Trains Coming', sums up not only how obviously positive he seems to be, but also the general sentiment that invades the album's sound from first to last: "I'm a believer…" It's so simple, so ambiguous, but sung with such perfect carefree gloriously reverbed voice - and since that atmosphere is set, the rest of the achingly sun-worshipping heavily warm and layered song follows. Wow. Then comes the rest of the album.
It's a triumph in a retro Americana sound, mixed with a penchant for afrobeat - found especially in the upbeat 'Massachusetts'; this song starts with a sonic picture of a North American harbour town, with boats clinking and seagulls wheeling about. It's a romantic picture of the northern states that leaves me in a peaceful kind of mood, even after the second half of the song where a long refrain of a very urbane guitar riff, a superbly simple baseline mixed with well timed claps and near-dub horns relentlessly goes on and gets feet moving, heads nodding.
This kind of intelligent indie rock is mixed with a channeling of an older sound, something closer to the Beach Boys, and something we hear quite prominently in '(I Just) Need To Know' - with its kitschy organ melody resting on a bouncy honky-tonk rhythm, it develops into a masterclass in progression, Santos bringing in a sunny guitar towards the end which drips with sand and heat. Similarly, the minimal lo-fi Americana slow-dance march 'I'd Go' permeates the air like worn perfume and after-prom standardisation, told with a end-of-night slow blues bass scale that matches the classic vibe of the song; the soft guitar that creeps in like a hint of love or something is a fantastic touch, too. 'Silly Thoughts' is up there as well, catching your attention with an endless current of claps and a virally catchy vocal melody, all folded in a 6/8 timed song positively bubbling with a jamboree of rhythms, from the reggae swagger of the punctuating synth, to the chorus where the guitar injects an off-kilter mathsy groove to the song.
And it's those delicate touches in a wide sea of minimalism that sets the debut offering from the Ra Ra Riot's bass player aside from instant comparison, Vampire Weekend. Even album closer 'The Bay/Where To Find Her', which distinctly displays more than a smattering of indie-fro stylings, is very different - it's that minimalism, the audacity of repetition, the trust and faith in a single note of a guitar. Mathieu Santos is certainly a believer - in music, that is.
He's only gone and put the whole album on SoundCloud!
So you'll understand when I say that 'Northern Mentality' is like nothing I've heard before. First of all, the stark DIY beat features some of the best hi-hat action I've heard all year, offbeat hits and rolls giving it a cliffhanger of a sound, leaving being driven along with the song. This ain't a toetapper, it's a footstomper, a genuine indie headbanger. The end of the song combines some fantastically mashed-up guitars, and a horns section blare that cradles a near-ridiculous jazz fusion sax solo that squeals in the last part of the song. It almost sounds like a reminder: don't take things too seriously.
And then there's his foray into post-punk - shown in the ballsy punk drums of 'I Said So' combined with its sweeping guitar chords, lo-fi vocals; and at just 1:11 it's the shortest song of the album, totally echoing the quick explosive numbers that defined punk from its outset, but something that now seems a little dated and just left me wanting more, really. You get a bit of this also in 'Wait To Get Up' - whilst starting off sounding like a song by The Police, it ends adopting a post-punk formula, including plenty of palm muted guitar, a few 'Hey!'s in the final quarter, and a distorted mini-guitar solo in the bridge. But that said, the harmonies he lays down here are just mind-blowing. There's something so satisfying, soul-soothing, about hearing multiple voices working at once in perfect fifths or whatever - he's got those harmonies perfected.
Mathieu Santos has basically written one of the best albums I've heard in a while. The songs are consistently good. And when he's not making you dance and filling your ears with golden words, he's giving you beautiful soundscapes. The guitar that makes up 'The Bay' part of 'The Bay/Where To Find Her' gives a good idea of how well he can just compose a song - an adolescent bedroom-dreams symphony. But it's 'Good Return Theme' that really shakes me. It's a decidedly poignant instrumental, acting half-interlude and half-best-song-of-the-album. It sounds like a theme to something, definitely. It builds up throughout the whole song, delayed guitars whirring away as a frenetic snare rimshot beat cackles all around it, followed by reggae-rhythm guitars and a further four-note guitar repetition that eats away at the empty space that Santos has cleverly laid aside for such extensions of his genius. It's a dramatic jaccuzzi-at-night sound, stars, warmth, and endless energetic bubbles. Wonderful.
So if you fancy a touch of minimalism in your life, boundless energy, a modern monument to small-town northern-states America, fresh and simple afrobeat rhythms, heartsqueezing harmonies, gorgeous-basic baselines, well - give this genius new contender a listen.
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