The Innocence, “I Don’t Wanna Be Around You”

Breaking up is hard to do, but even harder is the prelude to one. A short and sweet shuffle, the Innocence have the common sense to make it as painless as possible, rather than dragging it out. Despite the awkward moment, you get the sense that everything’s going to be alright. After all, pain is only temporary.

There’s not much out there about the Innocence, so learn more about Vini Poncia, one half of the duo, who later went on to write/produce KISS’s much-maligned Dynasty and Unmasked. Wild, huh?

This week on Her Jazz! I dig out the ol’ 7” collection and share some of my favorites.

Hi-Beams, “White People”

It’s not fat-bottomed girls that make the world go ’round — it’s white people. That is, the anger felt towards them, even by other white folks. When I plucked this out of a dollar bin years ago I thought was picking up some design inspiration. (Really, check out that hot sleeve — don’t you wish you had her shoes? And what was up with all the right triangles used in the 80’s?) What I got instead was a snotty condemnation of suburban blandess, packaged up as a trendy new wave number. Which is nastier: _We’re white people and we don’t care_ or _Where has all the color gone?_ Hard to tell, especially with the way the band whips out line after line, in a dizzying fashion before imploding into an echoey mess. It’s just a shame about these Diz-like whoops — were they too afraid of getting, like, grounded? Do contemporary suburban kids feel this angry or are they too preoccupied whoring themselves on Myspace to care?

If you know how to track down anyone from this band, feel free to post a comment!

This week on Her Jazz! I dig out the ol’ 7″ collection and share some of my favorites.

Tsunami, “Old City”

Tsunami will be known forever as a DC band and yet, I think this might be one of my favorite songs about Philly. This is an Old(e) City that no longer exists, but its the one retained in my memory, the one first experienced as a college freshman attempting to track down Third Street Jazz & Rock (RIP) and the one in which I could only fantasize about being old enough to enter the Khyber. Trash is trash — now the creepy storefronts have been replaced with yuppie establishments and half-naked, over-tanned South Jerseyans flood the streets — but Old City is still the kind of place where you have to watch your back, though for entirely different reasons.

Check out the awesome Simple Machines website and pick up a record or two HERE.

Oxford Collapse “Forgot To Write”

Hello, I love the Oxford Collapse so much they asked me to write the bio for their brand new record on Sub Pop, which comes out today. Just so’s you know: I didn’t put “shambolic” in the bio. It’s a word I genuinely _haaaate_. Anyway, who did it? Wish I knew.

Buy this record so these douchehammers can hire a security guard to fend off the advances of FSU.

Henri Faberge & The Adorables “Out of Your League”

What the hell are they drinking up there in Toronto and how can I get my hands on it? After giving this song multiple spins, I’m convinced that if a song doesn’t contain at least three swears or insults/sexual references, it ain’t worth listening to. And this, oh man, this — this is fucking golden. Quite possibly the best thing I’ve heard all week. Besides lacing everything with a fine coating of FCC violatin’ purpleheaded prose, this collective straddles a strange space, simultaneously one-upping the sugary la-la-hyper-pop of bands like the Rosebuds and paying tribute to that much-maligned musical sequel — yes, I’m talking about Grease 2. No lie (see below for proof if you think I’m crazy), behold the insane genius of combining strummy guitars, cheerful bells and threats to personal property that kick in mid-song.

Henri Faberge & the Adorables are adorable. Indeed they are. But they’re also insane and dirty — just like all your exes.

[thanks, ned!]

OK, not really a podcast per se, but it’s the archives of my radio show on WQHS. (My WPRB archives are currently unavailable.) I know this is going to detract from you actually tuning in, but oh well, better late than never, right?

Add this link to your feed »

apologies for the crankiness. very long work hours this week, little time to do much else. send chocolate and dvds my way, please.

Baby Eagle, “Your Wounded Jaw”

What I dream about is usually none of your damn business, but this one was too weird/funny/sad to not share with the crowd. Baby Eagle, which is the side project of the Constantines’ Steve Lambke, were getting ready to release a record. [googling ex post facto, it appears BE actually does have a record coming out.] To celebrate the release, Stephen Colbert planned to wrestle and eagle. Nas was tapped to provide commentary… naturally. Of course, when it came time for Stephen to wrestle, the eagle turned out to be a gigantic eel.

Anyway, I ain’t gonna get all Said The Gramophone on you here, so enjoy the quasi-Silver Jews romp this song provides — it’s got a real heavy “Advice to the Graduate” vibe to it, dont’cha think? And while were at it, I have to wonder, if Said The Gramophone [a solid blog, natch] gets busted for gibberish, why haven’t I become Public Enemy #1?

Help the Baby Eagle on the road to victory RIGHT HERE.

(Speaking of Eagles, Diskothi-q has written many songs about American football teams, all of which are awesome.)

The A-Sides “Cinematic”
It’s easy to lump the A-Sides into the same category as Lenola: ex-hardcore dudes cum pop savants who are the toast of the town’s indie scene; yet in the grander scheme of things, virtually unknown outside city limits. But when this song whirs into full reality, its clear to see they’re on a different path. Refusing to go gentle into the night, “Cinematic” is pop at its Technicolor™ finest with burbling keyboards, cymbal crashes at every heady moment and vibrant guitar solos. As the chorus swells, those paying half-attention will only hear relationshippy overtones in the lyrics. Yet I can’t help but wonder if this is a metaphor for the band’s own state of affairs, hinted on their website’s front page. Granted they have it luckier than most local bands (opening for Cheap Trick, playing spaces like the Borgata and Trocadero) but seriously, how much longer do these guys have to wait until world domination? And what kind of asshole keeps a band this awesome waiting?

Send good thoughts to The A-Sides. But you know what’s better? Picking up a copy of Hello, Hello, one of my favorite releases of 2005.

B Mulvey, “Trivia”
Usually when record store employees/radio DJ’s/music nerds start bands, they wind up being this amalgamation of obscure influences crowned with snooty intellectualism. And while smartypants music is all fine and dandy in my book, there’s something kinda risqué about these kinds of folks kicking back and having _fun_. So even though Brian’s clearly yanked out the well-worn copies of Dinosaur Jr, Superchunk and GBV records from the WPRB stacks for inspiration, there’s no reason to feel shameful for digging this tune. I dig the slight, fuzzed-out boogie lilt of the opening riff!

Visit B Mulvey online here and pick up a CD while you’re at it, OK?

Klee, “Gold”
OK, maybe I’m just genetically predisposed to love any bassline reminiscent of New Order’s “Blue Monday”, but when it’s combined with the glossy discotheque sheen of Blondie’s “Atomic”, I am mere putty in this song’s hands. Also, I love foreign language post-punk because I can make up my own words! Throw this on your ipod and you can have your own Making Time at the drop of a hat [minus the booze, drugs and hipsters, natch].

Check out more Klee goodness at Minty Fresh Records.

Bent Leg Fatima, “Mouse/Lone Gunner”Lilys will more than likely become a chapter in Philly Indie Rock History, but here’s a footnote worth paying attention to. Long before Need New Body inspired Man Man to don moustaches, write carnival-inflected tunes and swipe their drummer, there was Bent Leg Fatima. Eventually morphing into NNB right before the turn of the millennium [but not let us forget about MILF, while we're at it], this band might be the genesis of any band in town with a tendency for outré weirdness. Sure they’ve got tons of great songs but “Mouse” is a stone-cold classic ’round these parts, deftly merging a hipshaking bassline with noisier psychedelia.

Don’t corner me at the Khyber to explain why your band isn’t like NNB — buy BLF’s CD instead!

photo credit: alec mackaye

Uzeda, “This Heat”

Monday night I went to the Starlight Ballroom to bid adieu to Sleater-Kinney. I generally don’t head out to R5 shows in the summertime because they’re always crowded and hot beyond all belief, but there’s times where I’m willing to make an exception. I walked out of the club drenched in sweat, skin so moist that it was peeling off David Blaine stylee. Not only that, I had some sort of bizarre rash crawling up my legs. I pray that someone at the Starlight Ballroom is cleaning off the furniture. What I want to say is: summertime is gross, fucking, gross.

At least there was _some_ air conditioning. I haven’t been overseas in a while, but where I lived in Sicily, AC was a luxury. To beat the heat, you either spent a good portion of your time at the beach or lying around.

This is the heat I conjure up at the start of Uzeda’s “This Heat”. But Uzeda live in Catania, located at the foot of _Mongibeddu_, aka Mt Etna. The heat they’re talking about is not your standard disgusting day — New Orleans has its hurricanes, Sicily has one of the world’s most active volcanoes. Etna may turn the oranges bloody which is great for martinis worldwide, but it also has the ability to destroy entire cities, which it did in 1669, 1928, 1983 and almost in 1992, the latter being the same summer judges were getting blown to bits on the A20 by the Mafia.

Math rock in 2006 — who fucking knew? — might sound like the punchline to an indie rock joke, but it works. Uzeda’s newest record, _Stella_, elucidates the line between between beauty and destruction found in Sicilian life. Two riffs, one a tinny chug maintaining the rhythm, the other pealing off distorted metallic notes, weave their way around each other, growing in intensity, pushing each other towards an uncertain fate.

You should totally buy this record.