Seth's #4-- "Tin Man" by Future Islands

Future Islands--"Tin Man"

Seth

One of my favorite musical discoveries of 2010 was the Baltimore-based "post-wave" band Future Islands. While this may be a meaningless label (though what isn't these days?) the combination of New Order/the Knife-esque rhythms and electronic textures with folky vocals is pretty impossible to fit into any neat, pre-conceived box. Future Islands is such a thrilling group because they manage to unite the insistent thump of electro and the expansive storytelling of folk rock--which should be an abject disaster--in a way that feels completely natural and familiar. Nowhere do they do this better than on album highlight "Tin Man."

Initially released in May, I discovered In Evening Air in October, which was the ideal time to come to this, a perfect fall record. "Tin Man" is the best example of the band's ability to write songs that contain the same anxious/comfortable and warm/chilly dichotomy present in the autumn months. Central to the success of Future Islands is singer Samuel T. Herring's voice and lyrical conceits.

"Tin Man" opens with a couplet that starts with startling directness before dissolving into the impossibly vague: "You couldn't possibly know how much you mean to me/ You couldn't always view inside my tarot." Delivered in Herring's uncannily Tom Waits-esque Carnival Barker in Limbo wail, the line is the first in a series of contradictions, juxtapositions and metaphors that forms an obtuse meditation on the transience of life. Without developing a specific and linear narrative, Herring sketches a picture of the ephemeral beauty of an inconstant world.

Perhaps what's most striking about the song is how glaring it seems that it could fall apart at any second. Herring sings with a theatrical flair that would feel at home fronting a boozy second-rate circus band. The most striking musical aspect of the song--the steel drum--initially seems out of place but ends up driving the entire thing to the finish line, playing an interval so uncertain as to color the deliberately opaque lyrics. Underneath, the band works a tight, meticulously controlled electro-pop rager that could easily be recalibrated into a dance-floor filler. The result is a set of disparate genre elements that, against the odds, manages to cohere into a magical three minutes.

The remainder of In Evening Air is equally rewarding and unlikely, although nothing quite hits the rarefied heights of "Tin Man." Future Islands are a band of no small ambition whose sophomore album presages great things. Anyone who could write a pop song packed with Wizard of Oz imagery that plumbs the depths of the human condition like New Order at a theme park deserves to be taken seriously.

Andrew's #4 - "Giving Up the Gun" by Vampire Weekend

"Giving Up the Gun" by Vampire Weekend

Andrew

And now we venture into the portion of my list that is simply harder for me to justify. What can I say? These songs hit me on a level I find difficult to explain.

And believe me, I know that Vampire Weekend is sometimes tough to defend. These be-loafered turds do very little to convince us they are not the privileged North Atlantic shit-sacks they are. They're well-educated, well-trained, and have atrocious taste in clothing but BY HOLY GOD they write tight tunes.

I heard Vampire Weekend's premier album before it was released and saw their Summer Stage performance right as they were becoming especially popular with the kind of 19-year old girl I would have loved when I was 19. They are a fascinating group of lads that have somehow come together to create brilliant pop music. There were some really encouraging tracks on their eponymous debut but nothing with the muscle and flow of "Giving Up the Gun".

The song, incredibly, is a cannibalization of a song from lead singer Ezra Koenig's mediocre college hip-hop group, L'Homme Run. Fortunately, VW's version bulks up the simple melody with cascading synths, insistent percussion, and Chris Baio's prominent bass line.

I find it difficult to describe pop music that really moves me, so I won't. I love this song. I think it's fast, tight, and hot. VW have transcended the African influences they consciously aped on their first album and have gone on to create songs that embody a whole new type of pop music.

Seth

I like Vampire Weekend fine but the argument that a lot of critics make for their being an IMPORTANT BAND seems to me like arguing for the health benefits of Froot Loops. They make tight indie pop songs that are really fun to listen to but don't stick with me in any major way. I also feel like I see a lot of praise for Ezra Koenig as a lyricist (which is funny, since I think he's underrated as a guitarist. Say what you will about VW, these motherfuckers can play!) and outside of a very few examples (this song, "Holiday," and half of "I Think U R a Contra") I don't see him as a great teller of stories or doing much to evoke the human condition outside of someone very similar to himself.

Regardless, "Giving Up the Gun" is a great song and my second favorite from their sophomore album Contra, a record which I like with a mild sense of warmness. "...Gun" is a step forward for the band sonically as it includes more dance-y electronics and a nifty four-on-the-floor stomp absent in much of their earlier, more organic (and derivative) work. Also, it has a very funny video.

Ultimately, I don't get why so many people have such strong feelings about this band, which is why I'm so interested in them even though I don't feel a passionate connection to the music. They're one of the few indie bands to get really big in the past few years to suffer a popular backlash without suffering a critical one. On the one hand, they seem like a sitting duck for the right kind of embittered music critic. They're children of privilege: educated, upper class, (mostly) white guys who could VERY EASILY be accused of musical colonialism and appropriation. (Though, honestly, who gives a fuck when there's ACTUAL COLONIALISM still at play in the world. Nevertheless, such accusations are the backbone of much modern criticism.) For whatever reason, much of the critical establishment has pulled their punches. On the other hand, though, I suspect that most of the people who H-A-T-E Vampire Weekend are similarly affluent white guys who went to prep schools and Ivy League universities and are just upset they didn't get the idea first. I guess where you come down on Vampire Weekend is probably influenced more by your opinion of the petit bourgeosie than your opinion of well-executed indie pop.

On a side note and in response to your observation about how VW is popular with the type of girl you would have loved at 19: that is exactly why I would have hated VW in college. That's the type of girl I would have wanted to make hate me when I was 19 (what can I say, the late teens aren't known for being a time of great self-control or depth of soul). When they blew up I would have insisted--often and at high volume to anyone within earshot--that they were "for teenage girls who don't get the Talking Heads." The fact that it strikes me now as unnecessarily snotty and mean-spirited is, I think, a sign of at least some form of maturity creeping into the corners of my life. Read into this what you will, also viz. my last post re: Kanye.