But that didn’t stop new Emerald City three-piece Acapulco Lips from releasing a set of sun-bleached, surf-infused tunes back in April, when the famously soggy city was still riding out its lengthy rainy season. Over the last few months, the band’s hook-laden, self-titled debut has been getting plenty of airplay on Seattle independent radio station—and national treasure—KEXP, and while I haven’t seen any upcoming tour dates, this is a band I’m absolutely dying to see live.

There’s a fantastic balance at work across the nine-song debut, which features an intoxicating cocktail of pounding drums, shoegazey guitar, groovy bass lines, and singer Maria-Elena Juarez’s biting, bouncing vocals. It’s a bigger sound than you might expect from a three piece, with an upbeat, buzzing urgency which carries effortlessly from from track to track.

First single “Awkward Waltz” unfolds in a crystalline, hypnotic spiral, and the sparkling “Tonight” manages to put a cheerful, high-energy spin on a couple’s spat. When Juarez warns she be ignoring her phone, won’t be coming home after her night out on the town, and promises that “tonight you’ll be sleeping all alone,” we’re less concerned with her relationship, and more concerned about whether she has a good time blowing off steam. It’s a feel-good track sprung from a feel-bad situation, and it’s one of the record’s unquestioned highlights.

Album closer “No Longer” has a sprawling, laconic vibe which gives the cut an almost tropical feel, and fades out with a smile-inducing, seemingly off-the-cuff vocal riff about how much Juarez loves burritos from Taco Bell. It’s the kind of touch which keeps the record happily grounded, and ensures lovers of well-crafted garage will likely spend many hours with it on repeat. Acapulco Lips have made a record which could conjure summertime vibes in a blizzard, and the cohesive sound is especially impressive for a first release.

While Acapulco Lips is available via download from newly-founded label Killroom Records, do yourself a favor and pick up the vinyl. All to often, we’ve seen gems like this only get a small first pressing, which means if you actually want the physical media, you’ll pay exorbitantly for the privilege after they’re gone. You’ll thank me later.

The post Band to Watch: Acapulco Lips appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

In the world of music? It’s a span of geological scale. An eternity. And that’s how long it took the Avalanches to release Wildflower, the follow-up to their stunning debut, Since I Left You.

Given the sophomore release’s excruciatingly long gestation, it’s understandable if listeners familiar only with underground hit “Frontier Psychologist” long ago wrote the Australian production crew off as a one-hit wonder. But from the first seconds of “The Leaves Were Falling”—the album’s sparse, 15-second opener—it’s evident the least interesting thing about this sprawling, hypnotic work is how long making it took.

Because in the face of stratospheric expectations, the Avalanches have delivered another sparkling masterpiece.

“Though it’s obviously divided into tracks, the best way to appreciate Wildflower isn’t by plucking out pieces to hear in isolation, but by experiencing this oscillating opus of scratchy soundscapes, goofy oompah band brass, dusty melodies, and dancy hooks all in one go.”

While the band enlisted help from contemporary luminaries like MF Doom, Danny Brown, and Father John Misty, its sonic backbone remains unchanged. Wildflower is a spectacular symphony of sampling, and less of a traditional album than an aural adventure. Though it’s obviously divided into tracks, the best way to appreciate Wildflower isn’t by plucking out pieces to hear in isolation, but by experiencing this oscillating opus of scratchy soundscapes, goofy oompah band brass, dusty melodies, and dancy hooks all in one go.

It’s the kind of record headphones were made for, and—if you’re braced for the occasional siren—the perfect soundtrack for an all-night drive. The lonelier the road, the better.

But as on any journey, certain parts stand out. Bronx hip hop duo Camp Lo adds wicked verses to the soaring strings and plodding, pining chorus—”If she don’t love me, what can I do?”—of “Because I’m Me,” and Danny Brown’s trademark staccato delivery plays comic foil to the the bouncing, haunted carnival vibe of the first single “Frankie Sinatra.” The whistling keyboards and ringing percussion of “If I Was a Folkstar” achieve a blissful balance with the track’s atmospheric undercurrent of dialog and urban ambiance, before blending seamlessly into the swirling psychedelic soup of “Colours.”

By far, the most captivating elements of Wildflower are the sonic tendrils which tether the tracks, like the tinny disco groove which bridges between “Subways” and “Going Home,” and the cinematic spoken word bits, which provide the album with its seductive, ethereal narrative. There’s a constellation of sounds at work during every moment of Wildflower’s 60-minute running time, and a feel that listeners are simply eavesdropping as an omniscient narrator continually tunes the dial of a celestial radio.

Overall, the execution is magnificent, and the shimmering, hopeful closing track “Saturday Night Inside Out” seems to quiver from the album’s gravitational pull.

Wildflower will take listeners years to fully digest. But given the glacial pace of The Avalanches’ output? We’ve got all the time in the world to absorb it.

The post All Hail The Avalanches: ‘Wildflower’ is Another Triumph appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

To be fair to director Roland Emmerich, I didn’t step into the theater thinking I’d be seeing a shadowy, Blade Runner-esque masterpiece, a brooding psychological thriller like Ex Machina, or even an outrageous, thoroughly enjoyable popcorn romp like The Fifth Element. Because I was going to see the sequel to Independence Day, the movie that launched modern disaster porn, and I knew that most screen time would likely be devoted to shit getting blown up.

When Independence Day debuted two decades ago, shit getting blown up on a huge scale was actually kind of impressive. And the sheer amount of shit getting blown up made it easy for audiences to ignore that the movie’s most interesting plot points would fit on one side of a 3×5-inch index card. But from a technical standpoint, I can’t say the large-scale shit getting blown up scenes in the sequel looked measurably better.

To allude to one of the dumber elements of the story, if you’d just come out of 20-year coma and immediately watched Resurgence, you’d likely think movie-making technology hadn’t progressed at all, and that script writing had devolved significantly.

You also might wonder what happened to Will Smith, because he wisely skipped this stinker to shoot Suicide Squad.

For me, the most interesting part of Independence Day was the revelation that an alien craft had crashed in Roswell back in 1947, and it was frustrating to see that element of the story explored so feebly. On the DVD, there’s a deleted scene which attempts to explain why Jeff Goldblum’s character is able to infect the alien mothership with a virus, and while it’s actually pretty weak, watching that bit of exposition makes me feel like, just maybe, the writers were trying. A little.

Clearly, they aren’t trying this time.

Because in the 20 years post-invasion, we’ve learned virtually nothing about the alien species which invaded our earth, even though the battles left piles of their machines laying derelict, and we have a prison full of them. Humanity hasn’t even bothered to come up for a proper name for these evil bastards. For 90% percent of the flick, they’re still just “the aliens,” which seems just dumb.

The most interesting plot element in Resurgence is the reference to a battle on the plains of Africa, where a local warlord fought stragglers for a decade, but there’s virtually no detail about it. Some flashbacks and war stories might have gone a long way toward giving this retread a reason for being, but apparently, blowing shit up is far more important.

Toward the end, there’s an obvious play for another sequel, but given how straight boring Resurgence is, the chances of that happening are fortunately slim.

The post Yup, ‘Independence Day: Resurgence’ Sucks Really Hard appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

David Fincher did a decent job with The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, but Hollywood history is filled with far more efforts like Hackers—virtual reality, neon plastic jackets, Rollerblades, techno—and 2001’s ensemble caper Swordfish, where the theatrical tagline might as well have been, “seriously, Halle Berry shows her tits in this movie.”

So USA Network’s breakout hit Mr. Robot was an interesting surprise, in that its dark tale of a morphine-addicted hacker’s work with an Anonymous-esque collective of digital revolutionaries didn’t immediately earn the derision of network security professionals.

Over the course of the first season, viewers watched as protagonist Elliot Alderson (Rami Malek) and his not-so-merry band of black hats a used tool box of real-world techniques, including remotely controlling webcams, distributing infected software, and even emotionally manipulating targets to accomplish their exploits.

Composer Mac Quayle’s score, which calls to mind the stark electronic soundscapes Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross created for The Social Network, adds an icy-cool atmosphere which perfectly complements the show’s washed out color palate. But like the The Americans, Mr. Robot also uses popular music to great effect.

Here are some of our favorite tracks used in the first season, and don’t worry, there are no spoilers.

Len, “Steal My Sunshine”

Episode 3, “eps1.2_d3bug.mkv”

Toronto brother-and-sister duo Len’s timeless summer jam is unquestionably the most upbeat song used in the entire season. Other than the fact that Broken Social Scene founder Brendan Canning once backed them up, the most interesting story about this one-hit-wonder revolves around the video shoot for the “Steal My Sunshine.” After Len and their crew arrived in Miami for the shoot, they used the production budget to buy so much booze the hotel elevator literally broke trying to get it upstairs.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JDSylTmM5HA

Lee Hazlewood and Nancy Sinatra, “Some Velvet Morning”

Episode 5, “eps1.4_3xpl0its.wmv”

This swirling, multi-tempo track from the frequent duet partners is a psychedelic snapshot of the swinging ’60s, and it’s off-kilter cadence makes it a perfect fit for the world of the show, where nothing can truly be trusted. With its cinematic atmosphere and orchestral swells, “Some Velvet Morning” sounds almost like it could have been used as a James Bond theme, if Her Majesty’s most famous secret agent had dropped out of MI6 to go live on a commune with Pussy Galore.

The Cure, “Pictures of You”

Episode 7, “eps1.7_wh1ter0se.m4v”

When Robert Smith and company released Seventeen Seconds, Faith, and Pornography in the early ’80s, they essentially created the sound which would dominate alternative rock’s gothic wing for the next two decades. And while the band would embrace pop with hits like “Just Like Heaven” and “Close to Me,” 1992’s gauzy, gloomy masterpiece Disintegration proved they’d far from lightened up, and “Pictures of You,” is one of its standout tracks.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ts7FQaVULRs

Maxence Cyrin, “Where Is My Mind”

Episode 8, “eps1.8_m1rr0r1ng.qt”

At this point, it’s likely that many who’ve heard Maxence Cyrin’s haunting, instrumental version of the Pixies’ “Where is My Mind” might not even know it’s a cover. Previously, our biggest association with this stark, pretty song was on a particularly creepy episode of Criminal Minds, where a crazy person pulled out his captive’s joints and turned them into marionettes so he could recreate a childhood trauma. It was pure nightmare fuel. So we’re glad to have another memory associated with it.

The Jim Carroll Band, “People Who Died.”

Episode 10, “eps1.9_zer0-day.avi”

Jim Carroll was a visceral writer and poet who appealed to both gutter punks and Paris Review-subscribing literati in equal measure. That said, “People Who Died,” is quite honestly, the only listenable song on Catholic Boy, his band’s 1980 debut. But it’s one hell of a song, an unvarnished, breakneck-speed love letter to the scores of friends he lost during his years as a heroin junkie. This five-minute blast of ebullient punk rock manages to sound inspirational, even as it details the crippling cost of drug addiction.

The second season of Mr. Robot begins Wednesday, July 13th, on USA Network.

The post Computer Love: Five Killer Tracks From Breakout Hit Mr. Robot appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

That sample, taken from Robert Houston’s 1980 classic Shogun Assassin, opens the GZA’s Liquid Swords. And while I’m hesitant to declare it the greatest hip-hop record of all time—truth be told, I don’t listen to much hip-hop anymore—I can say it’s my favorite rap album. I remember exactly where I was when I first heard it, and it was the record which drew me into the world of the Wu Tang Clan. At one point, I listened to Liquid Swords on repeat for a straight month. It’s unquestionably a masterpiece.

The razor-sharp, spooky production showcases the RZA at the height of his powers, the contributions from fellow Wu Tang members Raekwon, Ghostface Killah and Inspectah Deck sparkle, and the unlike some of the other Wu Tang solo efforts—notably Raekwon’s Only Built for Cuban Linx—Liquid Swords never gets bogged down in pointless skits. “Gold,” which opens with the GZA waiting to smoke some competitors in a drug gang turf war, is icy-cool, and perfectly illustrates the fact that when it comes to crafting compelling narratives, he’s virtually untouchable.

So when I saw he was going be performing Liquid Swords live in its entirety at LA Live, I got tickets immediately, even though in my experience, hip-hop doesn’t generally translate live. Back in the day, I was a music editor in Seattle, I saw tons of national and local hip-hop acts, and I was left disappointed more often than not. When I saw the Wu Tang Clan in 1996, I remember being stunned by how disorganized the set was, and I actually don’t remember them completing a single song. That show felt more like a free-for-all pep rally than a concert. Mos Def and Ice Cube were also let downs, but there were enough spectacular performances—Snoop Dog, Public Enemy—that I’d generally head out to shows, even when my beat switched more to the rock and roll which defined the Emerald City scene at the time.

That said? The GZA was just OK live, which I have to admit, was a bummer after spending so many years worshiping Liquid Swords. The stage was almost entirely bare, and while the sample-laden record would likely lend itself to a killer video montage, there wasn’t anything projected behind him. What I can say, is that the sound was on point, and the GZA’s voice hadn’t aged a day in the two decades since the record dropped. But ultimately, I found the experience of hearing these songs live to be a lot less immersive than listening to them on headphones, while say, riding my bicycle at night.

The coolest thing about the whole evening was talking to all the other fans there, and discussing exactly how awesome the record is, and comparing when and where we’d first listened to it. While there were plenty of old dudes—like me—at the show, there were also a surprising number of younger fans who’d heard Liquid Swords relatively recently. So while the live rendering left something to be desired, the idea that this amazing album is still being picked up and heard for the first time makes me profoundly happy.

Have a listen, and tell me if you don’t think it still sounds fresh.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2XZiCPWZY4

The post Two Decades After its Release, GZA is Doing Liquid Swords Live appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

Think about it: From Russia With Love is one of the best movies in the James Bond cannon, The Falcon and the Snowman is a fascinating portrait of how disillusioned citizens fall into the world of selling secrets, and espionage maestro John Le Carre crafted countless compelling novels about devious KGB moles. And there are literally hundreds more examples.

Right now, fans of Reagan-era cloak-and-dagger tales are getting their fix from FX series The Americans, and even in television’s nouveau golden age, it’s the best show on TV.

For those who haven’t been paying attention, the show revolves around Philip (Matthew Rhys) and Elizabeth (Keri Russell) Jennings, who look every bit like middle-class travel agents raising their children in suburban Virginia. In reality, they’re deep-cover KGB agents, and routinely seduce, blackmail, and murder to deliver Uncle Sam’s secrets back to Mother Russia.

It’s as tense and sexy as thrillers get, and the show’s fourth season is shaping up to be the best yet.

Along with all the old-school spycraft—think dead drops, numbers stations, safe houses—the producers have also ensured all the music is period, which means viewers are treated to plenty of Cold War gems.

Here are some our favorites so far, and don’t worry, there are no spoilers.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXpNenuQrcY

“Siamese Twins,” by the Cure
Season 1, Episode 8, “Mutually Assured Destruction”

In its 30-plus years of existence, the Cure has gone through several distinct periods. And between the jangly, post-punk of Boys Don’t Cry and the soaring, orchestral majesty of Disintegration, there’s 1982’s Pornography. It’s unquestionably the darkest of the band’s albums, and in interviews, leader Robert Smith was public about using this record to exorcise himself of the suicidal thoughts which haunted him during the sessions. “Siamese Twins” provides an excellent snapshot of a goth masterpiece.      

“I Melt With You” by Modern English
Season 2, Episode 4, “A Little Night Music”

Let’s be honest: “I Melt With You” is pretty much the only Modern English song anyone who didn’t play in the band actually knows. The members have even seemed to acknowledge this by recording the song three separate times, presumably because nobody would buy one of their records if this track wasn’t listed. That said, this cut is three minutes and 47 seconds of pitch perfect pop, and is practically synonymous with the nascent MTV of the early ’80s.

“Don’t Go,” by Yaz
Season 3, Episode 4, “Dimebag”

Known as Yazoo in their native England, due to a previously copyright, this synth-pop duo had to shorten their name to Yaz in the States. And while we said promised no spoilers, we think it’s OK to say that Yaz’s Upstairs at Eric’s becomes a minor plot point in the “Dimebag” episode, which is testament to how groundbreaking and fresh it sounded upon its release in 1982. While Upstairs… barely cracked the Billboard Hot 100, it would likely have fared far better if “Don’t Go” had been the first single.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UARn9GLnhow

“Tainted Love” by Soft Cell
Season 4, Episode 2, “Pastor Tim”

Many folks might be surprised to learn that Marc Almond and company’s version is actually a cover of a little-known Gloria Jones track. Like most of the songs on this list—sorry, “Siamese Twins”—”Tainted Love” can still bring folks to the dance floor, some 35 years after it’s release. Since then,  it’s been remixed and re-imagined countless times. And while we still like Soft Cell’s silky-smooth synth version the best, though Coil gets a hat tip just for sheer weirdness.

“Under Pressure” by Queen & David Bowie
Season 4, Episode 5, “Clark’s Place”

Given the crazy tension which permeates nearly every moment of The Americans, the inclusion of Queen and Bowie’s fantastic “Under Pressure” feels almost like an opportunity for viewers to catch their breath. In almost four seasons, it’s possible to count the number of “light” moments on one hand, and we have to admit chucking after hearing that iconic bass line fade in. Coming just a month after Bowie’s passing, its inclusion during a pivotal episode was somewhat bittersweet.

[ Episode and song info via TuneFind ] 

The post The Americans Songbook: Five Killer Tracks From Television’s Best Show appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

And just as jaded Gen-Xers expected, retreads of our of our cherished classics haven’t—to put it mildly—generally gone well. In the mildly entertaining corner, there’s the A Team and the the Dukes of Hazzard. The opposing, and far more crowded dumpster-fire corner, is packed with truly terrible CGI shitstorms like G.I. Joe, Clash of the Titans, and every one of Michael Bay’s distressingly popular—and apparently infinite—Transformers flicks.

At this point, there are few titles from our youth which we can be absolutely positive won’t return to stalk us like a rotting zombie. The most obvious? That’s a no-brainer. Because while the project had actually been in development, Hannibal Buress assured audiences that we’ll never—like, fucking ever—see another version of the Cosby Show. Another franchise we can likely file in the safe column is Back to the Future. The film is perfect in every way, and there’s zero chance original producer and Tinsletown titan Steven Spielberg would sanction a remake.

That said, here are five titles we can’t believe we haven’t seen a remake of. At least yet…

In the wake of unprecedented success of Star Wars, science fiction became hotter than a super nova, and every company on the the planet wanted its own franchise. Buck Rogers in the 25th Century was Universal and NBC’s take on the genre, and while it was generally poorly received by critics, the humor of the first season gave it a Galaxy Quest vibe. It ran from 1979 to 1981.

Given everyone watches Game of Thrones, the time seems ripe for a fresh take on Dungeons & Dragons. Because Game of Thrones is basically Dungeon’s & Dragons, but with tons of nudity and sex. Based loosely on the concept the iconic role-playing game, the series followed the adventures of a group of kids in a magical realm and struggle to get home. It was condemned for violence, but unsurprisingly, there was no sex.

Amazing Stories was essentially a kinder, gentler version of the Twilight Zone. Episodes were often less scary than were simply fantastic, and given it was produced by Spielberg, quality was top-notch. While the Outer Limits would tread similar territory into 1990s, it’s strange there isn’t a least one off-kilter anthology series designed to keep audiences guessing running right now. Fans will remember “the Mission” above all.

Television heavyweight Donald P. Bellisario—Magnum, P.I., Law & Order, NCIS—was the creative force behind Quantum Leap, which found time-traveling scientist Dr. Sam Beckett trapped in a different person’s body every week. The concept made for some great visual gags, and the wrong turns Beckett helped the possessed people avoid often had a surprising dramatic heft. Give its pedigree, we wouldn’t be surprised to see a next-gen version of Quantum Leap in the coming years.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CF-53aIU5aY

Jim Henson was by all accounts a pretty sweet guy. But with the Dark Crystal, legions of kids discovered that if he wanted to, the Muppet master totally could scare the living shit out of you. The scenes of malevolent Skeksi drawing the essence out of their enemies on their quest for world domination? Terrifying. A 2010 sequel attempt never got off the ground, but today, the movie is a cult classic.

The post We Can’t Believe These Classics Haven’t Been Remade appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

“If you’re going to tell a story,” he growls at Ewan McGregor’s startled scribe, “come at it with some attitude.”

And Miles Ahead—for better or worse—does approach the tale of Davis’ brilliant, often chaotic life with appreciable amounts of attitude. Cheadle delivers an exhilarating performance as the the Prince of Darkness, who’s seen mostly in an imagined maze of gunfights, gangsters and car chases crafted to convey the fantastic, frantic pace of his music.

And overall, it’s an interesting strategy.

The initial shots are claustrophobic enough to make viewers cough from the foreboding aura of cigarette smoke which envelopes Davis, and seemingly mirror the drug-addled, reclusive state where we first find him. Between the struggle to retain, and then reclaim, his latest master tape, there’s a manic motion and rich, visual poetry to the film, particularly during a tense boxing match sequence where Davis catches a younger version of himself performing. 

That said, fans looking for a traditional take on the life of the man behind the horn will be better served by reading Miles: the Autobiography.

Structure-wise, Miles Ahead is far closer to Jacob’s Ladder than it is to Ray. There’s nothing about Davis’ upbringing in Illinois, his parents, or his introduction to music. We feel his love—and the crackling strain of that love—to his first wife Frances, but never to get to see him pick up a horn for the first time. We don’t see him meet bop luminaries like Charlie Parker or Dizzy Gillespie. We don’t see a cocaine-fueled Davis crash his Lamborghini Miura and break both his ankles—which is something Cheadle and co-writer Steven Baigelman wouldn’t have had to invent.

For many fans, what might prove most disappointing is the gun slit-view we get of Davis’ extraordinary, groundbreaking career. The precision of his notations with arranger Gil Evans during the Sketches of Spain sessions, where we feel the orchestral majesty of “Concierto De Aranjuez (Adagio),” is one of the film’s most powerful moments, but there aren’t any others like it in the film.

To watch Davis improvise the soundtrack to French director Louis Malle’s classic Elevator to the Gallows would have been magnificent, and we get barely a glimpse of his Birth of the Cool-era genius, in favor of the more challenging sorcery of efforts like Live-Evil. But Miles Ahead is an attitude-laden portrait of a man possessed with legendary attitude, even if it might treat too close to “don’t meet your heroes territory.”

Catch it on the big screen if you can.

The post ‘Miles Ahead’ is an Interesting, if Incomplete Portrait of a Jazz Genius appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

After more than a year of only buying relatively new records—meaning released in the the past year or two—I fell off the wagon. Leaving Hollywood’s Amoeba Music without the Jesus and Mary Chain’s Munki proved to be an impossible task. As we can all attest, the flesh is weak.

That said, the desire to buy old records is now mostly out of my system, and I’m recommitted to focusing on the future. So I figured I’d use this opportunity to plug some of the albums I loved in 2015, as well as a couple recent favorites.

All these bands are built around strong female vocals, and lately, my friends have been joking I have the musical taste of a 15-year-old lesbian.

Can’t say that bothers me. Enjoy.

Bully Feels Like (Columbia)

Singer Alicia Bognanno and company might have formed Bully in Nashville, but there’s not enough Music City twang to fill a thimble on Feels Like, the band’s 2015 debut. The fearless confessional nature of Bognanno’s lyrics—”I remember the way your sheets smell”—meshes menacingly with a riot of buzzing guitars, bouncing bass, and tempo shifts, and the songs’ underlying urgency keep the album plunging forward like a great night gone off the rails.

Childbirth Women’s Rights (Suicide Squeeze)

There’s an inescapable humor to Women’s Rights, the first effort from Seattle punk super group Childbirth. “Baby Bump,” finds the narrator bringing cocaine to a baby shower, while “Siri, Open Tinder” lets listeners know how to get ladies to swipe right. And while it’s near impossible not to laugh at a title like “Since When Are You Gay?,” the trio’s complete mastery of three-chord punk harmonies makes this brisk, 13-track effort more novel than novelty.

Daughter Not to Disappear (4AD)

U.K. label 4AD—see the Cocteau Twins, Dead Can Dance—has long been famous for releasing ethereal, cinematic efforts, and the latest release from the London band Daughter dovetails nicely into the catalog. Thematically, Not to Disappear paints a bleak, brooding landscape, but it’s a gut–wrenchingly beautiful one, and singer Elena Tonra’s voice is a glorious reminder that sometimes, even heartbreak can be dazzling.

The Sun Days Album (Run For Cover Records)

Nope, though this five-piece from Gothenburg, Sweden shares the ’90s alt-rocker’s facility with hooks and harmony, it’s not that Sundays. Here, Elsa Fredriksson Holmgren’s flawless vocals lead a flirtatious blitz of jangling guitar, groovy bass and twinkling keys, and every track on this stunning debut achieves fever-pitch bliss. Album is a shimmering, eight-song set of crystalline indie pop from a band which arrived fully formed.

Hop Along Painted Shut (Saddle Creek)

Philadelphia’s Hop Along began as a solo project for singer Frances Quinlan, who’s been performing for over a decade. And while years of practice clearly can’t be dismissed, it’s obvious Quinlan is profoundly gifted.  She commands her extraordinary range—soaring highs, precision intonation, arresting, guttural screams—with the fearlessness and dexterity of a lion tamer, and her pipes are what make Painted Shut such a grunge-folk triumph.

The post The Girls are More Than Alright: Five Records to Check Out Now appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

Of the reactions I read, most seemed to balance on the theory that Whole Foods was co-opting a culture, and it was some kind of heretical hipster sacrilege to offer records under the same roof as organic arugula and grain-finished beef. And I didn’t get it. Seeing records for sale anywhere makes me happy.

I got into vinyl largely by accident, around 1999. A roommate had gotten a turntable for Christmas, and after watching the spectacular Go-Go’s episode of Behind the Music,  I wanted to get some of their music. The Tower Records in Seattle’s University District had the compilation that accompanied the episode—but it was something like $19, which I thought was outrageous. Instead, I went to one of the used vinyl shops a couple blocks down, and picked up the group’s entire catalog for $7 and change.

Obviously, in the nearly two decades since, the vinyl market has changed, and deals like my Go-Go’s hat trick are harder—though far from impossible—to score. Fortunately, virtually all the changes have been for the better. Yes, there’s been criticism that the many major-label reissues have made some smaller publishers wait for the better part of a year to get their albums made. Also, there’s no doubt that records have gotten more expensive, sometimes stupidly so.

But the format’s recent resurgence has been generally great for fans, who are seeing legions of labels pressing their artists to wax. And for the first time in a generation, brand-new record making machines are hitting the market, which will make it easier for plants to scale up, without having to scour the earth for tired, ancient presses. Even the venerable Technics 1200—the gold standard for radio stations, clubs, and DJs—has returned to production.

Whether the boom will last is anyone’s guess. But as a dedicated vinyl junkie, when I see records at a fancy grocery market, or a trendy fast-fashion store,  I don’t feel pandered to, or like my hobby has stopped being cool. I see the signs of a healthy, vibrant industry which will continue to spread joy long after I’m gone. So even if I never actually pony up $30 bucks for reissue of the Beatle’s A Hard Day’s Night with my produce, it’s great to know I could.

The post Whole Foods Sells Vinyl, and That’s Great appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

The dot-com era was in full bloom, startups made finding work easy, and a tsunami of venture capital money was spiriting the sleepy little city toward a shiny, uncertain future. Nobody had the faintest clue what was happening, and after dark, the streets, bars and clubs crackled with electric lunacy.

As a newly minted music writer, covering the scene was as surreal as it was spectacular. At the legendary Crocodile Cafe, I saw an unknown New York band called the Strokes completely demolish the night’s headliner. From a packed techno club’s sweaty dance floor, I saw DJ Shadow and Cut Chemist spar with 45s. Later, I’d sit rapt as Nina Simone—The High Priestess of Soul—played Benaroya Hall on her last American tour.  She opened with “Black is the Color of My True Love’s Hair,” and I’ll never forget the way her voice washed over the stunned, silent audience.

You could practically hear everyone get goosebumps.

Obviously, stupid startups paid for plenty of parties back then. And given the years I spent flanked by animated drunks wielding spears of chicken satay, I’m grateful to have emerged from that period of my life with binocular vision.

Along the way, I got addicted to digging for vinyl. Goodwill stores were largely an untapped resource, and it was always exciting—and simultaneously, sad—to find the odd crate of obviously curated LPs. Because pristine copies of Patti Smith’s Horses don’t wind up selling for .99 cents if their owner is still alive. Now, I make a determined effort to only buy records released in the last year or two. It keeps me from whining about the cost of expensive reissues, and serves as a reminder that there’s more good stuff being released now than at any point in history. Shazam is—by far—my favorite app.

After Internet bubble burst, I bounced around for a couple of years before landing at a CarDomain, which was my first foray into the world of automotive writing.

Music might have been my first love, but cars were never far behind. My earliest memories are of driving around with my Dad listening to the oldies station on the radio, and he’d constantly point out the different makes and models. When I was five, he spent a solid hour pointing out the particulars—the twin tanks, the delicate line running from tip to tail, the shifter’s delicate stalk—of a Jaguar  XJ6 Series II. Then he warned me to never buy one.

Of course, two decades later, I did just that.

A Chevy 350 swap—performed by a Boeing engineer—made it as reliable as a hammer, and to this day, I maintain I got the only Jaguar that left Coventry with a fully functioning electrical system. The clock even worked! I’d still have that beautiful beast if I hadn’t made the move to Los Angeles six years ago. Now, my British ward is a 1972 MGB GT, which is arguably prettier, but definitely less reliable than my beloved old Jag.

For FactoryTwoFour, I’ll be writing about arts, music, culture, food, and gear. Basically, everything but cars. The F24 crew already has that area covered, and in the interest of full disclosure, the lawyers at my day job told me I can’t. That said, I’m incredibly excited to be part of the team, and I’ve got some fun pieces planned for the next few months.

Stay tuned, this is going to be fun.

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