The Pixies are touring Doolittle this year (”this year” being the loosest definition of the word, since they don’t start working until November). If you’re thinking “Why are they playing a record in full that they recorded 20 years ago?” then the answer is “it’s the money, Lebowski!”.

If you’re too lazy to record new material, or too scared it’s going to drag down your flawless rep, then how long can your play 20 year old music without becoming a cheesy Kiss-style nostalgia act? Actually, I might be going overboard on Kiss. They made new music once in a while, right?

Anyway here are the dates:

Los Angeles, CA The Palladium (November 4)
Oakland, CA Fox Theater (8, 9)
Seattle, WA Paramount Theatre (12, 13)
Eugene, OR Hult Center (14)
Denver, CO The Fillmore (16)
Chicago, IL Aragon Ballroom (20, 21)
New York, NY Hammerstein Ballroom (23 – 25)
Boston, MA Wang Center (27)
Washington, D.C. Constitution Hall (30)

Aaaand we’re back. I had a lot of personal issues and projects to take care of over the last month, a couple of interviews fell through (don’t worry, there will be new ones), but the SZ isn’t going anywhere any time soon. Usually when a dramatic topical event happens in news or music, everyone feels a compulsion to rush in and be the first to talk about it, usually in 140 characters or less – but the death of Michael Jackson’s put me in a more reflective mood. Hearing the news break (through Twitter, of all things), listening to all the speculation about drug abuse and physical therapy and this, that, and the other, watching the funeral and a surprisingly stirring speech from Al Sharpton. It gave me a chance to really think about what made the man unique.

First, he was maybe the only singer in modern history who everybody liked. I know everybody’s made this point, but you could take or leave the Beatles, plenty of people didn’t like Elvis. But Michael Jackson’s popularity stayed somewhere between ice cream and free hugs for most of his recording career – the songs worked regardless of your age group or race or background. Second, and this is something a bit more interesting – there was more variety and unpredictability in Michael Jackson’s tracks than anybody out today. There were the standard i love you/let’s hook up numbers, but I mean there were songs about STD’s, the environment, the media (in the global sense, not just the “woe is me I’m famous” sense, although he did a couple of those), the fight between spirituality and materialism – I mean, hell if you hear half of that kind of variety on an R&B record in 2009. And third, the variety from an instrumental standpoint stands out, too. Really, MJ’s voice formed the core of his work, and it allowed his producers and co-writers to build backing tracks around it. One track could have a new-wave feel, one could have loud guitars, but when that voice came in, you know you were listening to a Michael Jackson song. Now nobody can sing, so everything’s gotta sound like a T-Pain knockoff.

Ew.

My personal schedule is gearing up a bit as I come to the end of my school career, but we’re gonna try and post two or three times a week for the next month or so. Lots of good stuff coming, including interviews with Infinien and Blacklist Royals (hopefully)!

Step One : Go here. http://www.stereozeitgeist.com/forum/chat/flashchat.php

Step two: If you’re not a member, register.

Step three: No, that’s it.

Who’ll be dropping by? People!

Progress. It rarely comes from civilized people talking down, listening to reason, hashing things out. Most of the critical advances in human society has come from brief, awe-inspiring, and terrifying periods of forced change. Whether it’s the French Revolution or school integration or the space race, most vital changes in our lives only come when they’re absolutely neccessary – when there’s no other alternative. In some ways, the world of music is similar – before the powers that be pick up on a new trend, it usually requires the one before it to get bludgeoned to death by its own inanity. But unlike the constant arguing over major social or economic change, there, there’s always a sizeable contingent in music that seeks out innovation and isn’t afraid to dive into undiscovered territory : that, after all, is where the money is.

And like most organic processes, the next wave often comes from the least expected places. I ran into Drake’s Theory, a progressive rock band from the wilds of Edmonton, Alberta, as they promoted their debut album locally. The group has been around since late 2004, with keyboardist Albert Draper and basoonist (yes, you did read that correctly) Nathaniel Bautista as a late night recording project, and with time and chemistry, it blossomed into a few performances, featuring mostly acoustic guitar and bass songs, with the two sharing vocal duties. The more you listen to Drake’s Theory, the more you get a feel for how their songs are crafted and how they evolved as a unit – something like a human body, starting with a sparse skeleton and adding layers of muscle gradually.

Riley McNally joined the band as a drummer a couple of years later, and they started working on fresh material sometimes bringing their individual ideas to the table, and other times jamming as a group. Another year and a new guitarist later, the band’s debut record was ready – and Anesthesia Toximia is a monster that puts the free samples they’re giving out online to shame. I was really glad to get a chance to talk with Albert for a little while about life in the underground, Toximia’s lasting impact on the group, and how your Mom can occassionally provide you with more than moral support. We asked him about Edmonton’s local scene first…

Draper: The Edmonton scene seems like a series of detached “pods”, each pod unaware of the other’s existence. Different crowds for different bands, obviously, yet there needs to be more of a united front in getting these people together. Because of this disattachment of social groups and music goers, it is perhaps a little bit difficult to reach out to broader audiences.

When we play shows people are very interested in what they are hearing. I think it needs a couple listens to sink in fully. Sometimes people are expecting epic minor scales with a 4/4 beat (which can still be cool in moderation) and will only react to something that is familiar and stable. People hear our music and really enjoy it, but are left somewhat confused, perhaps with time to reflect and reconsider. All in all, people cheer. Loud.

Zeitgeist: But once it does, it really does. Drake’s Theory, like most good music, has something for you on first listen, but can really open itself to you on the spins after that. Of course, everybody who you run into doesn’t have a chance to listen to an entire record. When reaching out and making contacts in the music world, does your style prejudice people towards or against you? Neither?

Draper: As new entrants into this world, perhaps we do not have the experience yet to determine what sorts of reactions we may receive, but most people we show our music to are very receptive and are positive. Progressive music is dense, so it requires the listeners full attention and devotion to come through. While we also have minimalistic and simpler songs on the album they all come from the realms of creativity so we can just be honest with our songwriting and if people enjoy the songs, then EXCELLENT!

Zeitgeist: I was really impressed with the variety of backgrounds that I could hear coming through. What were your backgrounds musically growing up?

Draper: Lets see, [I had] piano lessons and classical training on woodwind instruments, some time in sea cadet marching bands. Nathaniel’s done vocals from an early age and is an enthusiastic bassoonist. There’s Riley, whose spastic and ferocious Canadian punk stylings [have] evolved into the status quo, and Mikail Oullette’s been a consumate guitarist since the age of 15.

Zeitgeist: And how have the lineup changes outside the core of the group helped to progress and flesh out your sound?

Draper: Going from strictly guitar and bass songs to adding drums and expanding to the piano as a driving device drastically changed things and was very challenging. Our new guitarist has challenged us to think in different ways, and also adds a raw and virtuosic element to the mix.

Zeitgeist: What’s the story behind the album cover? Did you reach out to a friend to design it or was it self produced?

Draper: My mother is an artist (http://www.landogallery.com/adeleknowler) and painted the front cover. It represents the archetypal human being in a black box, their limitations being represented by its confines. On the back cover, the box is gone, representing the metamorphosis to freedom through music.

Zeitgeist: Well, in that case, is there anything that you expect people to take away from hearing your material? Or do you think that’s a bit of a pretentious idea?

I hope that people take away the melodies and chords with them, lyrics too. If someone is humming a single part of one of our songs at any given moment, that would be the greatest compliment. I think the idea of absolute spiritual freedom through one album is as likely to happen as winning the lottery, however, I’m sure one can get a fleeting glimpse into this freedom if they are on the same wavelength as the music through deep listening. It really depends on the conscious state of the person listening as music is so subjective.

Zeitgeist: What’s your favorite track on the record?

Draper: To us, each song represents a moment in our lives- whether it be the memory of composing the song or the emotions and ideas the song brings out. So as artists who have made these songs, choosing a favourite would be impossible for each song holds something important to us in their own way.

Zeitgeist: Has the process of recording music – sitting, reflecting, hashing things out with others – changed your personality or made you look at other ways of solving problems in your life?

Draper: In a sense, the music is a repository for the problems and experiences we go through in life. The music takes on an alter ego persona as it embodies our own emotions and inspiration. I find the greatest moments inspirations for writing songs have come through sadness, although songs can drop out of thin air without any emotional attachment. Definitely though, I’d say that our own growth and maturity has changed and affected the music moreso than the music changing us or the way we deal with things.

Zeitgeist: The internet has done a lot to democratize the recording process, but it’s also decentralized it. Is the lower barrier to entry and the added voices worth the loss of the unifying cultural experiences we used to had when there were 5 albums everyone bough every year?

Draper: That is a difficult question. This new status quo seems really to be only in its infancy, so it is hard to ascertain whether there is a loss. For instance, with five must own albums a year, was it a cultural unification or simply a system in which the press and the music industry instructed faithful consumers which records to enjoy? Truly, timeless and amazing music has come out in this fashion and the power of press and cultural persuasion should not be solely to blame for music speaks for itself. Ultimately, I think that there is an invisible and powerful unification of people enjoying new music transpiring, but it is not being broadcast on a TV set anymore to give definition to its existence.

Zeitgeist: What would you recommend to people who buy this record and really like it?

Draper: I won’t go off the deep end here (and I can’t speak for the rest of my bandmates) but I would suggest an amazingly talented band from Winnipeg, Mahogany Frog. They have wild progressive soundscapes with melodies that you can hear once and remember for years fused with an explosive energy. Electric samples flow seamlessly with carefully composed song structures remniscent of jazz fusion meets english future prog. And for the hell of it, Elliott Smith- he is an incredible songwriter whose work will surely ensnare listeners who enjoy our more melodic pieces.

Guys, It’s impossible to overstate how vital Anesthesia Toximia is, both for fans of the genre and the uninitiated. Drake’s Theory has managed to put together one of 2009’s best records – something hardhitting, expansive, and unquestionably alive. This one’s a monster. Visit http://www.myspace.com/drakestheory for more awesome. And be sure to say hi to Albert’s mom.

One of the most interesting things about music is that once it leaves the studio and enters your earlobes, it’s undeniably yours, no matter what the musicians might have had in mind when they put their ramblings to a gin-soaked napkin however many months ago. The Beatles might have written I Am The Walrus to make fun of fans who overanalyzed every song they wrote, but once it got out there, the absurdity made a lot of people dig deeper instead of changing their minds. After a couple of conversations about songs that meant something a little big different to us than the artist intended, we decided to put together a little article showcasing our favorites.

Remember Come Out and Play by The Offspring? I’d always been convinced the song was about underaged sex. If you take a look at the lyrics, you’ll know it’s not, but this song’s been on the radio about a million times, and every single time it seems like he’s saying :

Like the latest fashion
Like a spreading disease
The kids are slappin on their way to the classroom
Getting with it with the greatest of ease

And then there’s a lot of incomprehensible yelling that sounds cool, and then some stuff about bashing it up and police sirens and being under 18. Hey HEY! Right?

No. Turns out the songs about gang violence, and even shouts out that immortal line from The Warriors. Remember “Waaariors? Come out and plaaayay?” – I’d seen it so many times (not to mention those commercials for the Playstation game) that I can’t believe it never clicked.

There are other times that you don’t so much as bother interpreting the lyrics. Not like that stupid Blues Brothers song that humps Pachibel’s leg for three and a half minutes, but something that’s genuinelyy catchy, and has so much flow in the melody that it just washes over you. Remember Hey Sandy? It was the theme song to Pete and Pete, and the guy was singing so fast that you could barely make any of the words out. But damned if it wasn’t catchy, right?

Until you actually read the lyrics…

and realize it’s about Sandy Scheuer and the Kent State Shooting. Jaysusgawd. I’ll never be able to watch Nickelodeon the same way ever again.

Sometimes it’s not the meaniong of a song that you’re missing, but a little lyrical easter egg that you don’t fully grasp until you’ve printed the words out and looked at them. Frank Black does this all the time – Speedy Marie, Ana, and Robert Onion are all acrostics – but I think the coolest example of this is Tool’s Lateralus, which is written using the Fibonacci sequence. Instead of boring people who’ve already heard this song, I just stuck in this handy video that explains the song and plays it and drops in some cute pictures!

And of course, I think the songs that are most commonly misunderstood are the love songs. If you sing something really heartfelt sounding and play softly, million of brains will turn off and assume you’re playing a love song. It won’t matter if you’re signing about despression or your dead mum or a box of crackers, if you play it at the right tempo, it’ll pop up at a wedding. Musicians have known this and used it to great effect (see The Cure, Nirvana), but it’s even sneakier when someone who isn’t a snarly guitatrist does it. Posession? The Sarah McLachlan song?

Not a love song, you creepy bastards. It’s said the lyrics in the chorus are copied verbatim from a letter she got from a stalker. And you know, when you give stalkers royalty checks, they beeline right for the return address.

… anyway, the moral of the story is, read lyrics or look dumb.

We had a couple of unearthly coincidences last time, so I’ve kinda hesitated to bring the madness back to life again. But summer time is fast approaching, and the urge can’t be contained. So, we’re proud to announce the return of the Stereo Zeitgeist Internet Barbeque. We’re flooding the chatroom, we’re hanging out, we’re doing it and doing it big. Bring all your Internet friends. It won’t be just forum regulars – we’ll be featuring some brilliant minds from the independent music blogosphere, and a few talented writers who’ll be stopping by to drop some knowledge. Announcements in the coming weeks.

Invite all your internet friends, the more the merrier, et cetera. Thursday, June 4th. The first one will be at 7PM GMT, which is 3PM Eastern.

The second will be at 10PM Eastern, which is like 2AM GMT. This gives people on the west coast of the US time to get home and chill or whatever. Things will never. EVER be the same.

And so my cousin peeped over my shoulder while I was listening to this, full screen Cover Flow and all that. And he squinted.

Ermine? Ain’t that like a rat or some shit?

Survey says…

Eh, sorta. I’m not exactly sure the connection between the semi cuddly woodland creature and the new EP from Marilyn Roxie (who you may have seen crawling around inside the tubes as of late), but it’s some ambient / electronic / background music for life kinda stuff, so if the idea of a slightly less energetic Red Snapper or Tortoise sounds kosher to you, it’s a pretty entertaining sample that’s worth the download.

The EP’s standout is right off the top – Clearing Clouds is worth adding to your MP3 collection immediately, if only to plug into a downtempo playlist. At a little under 3 minutes, it sounds like a transition you’d hear on a movie soundtrack. The rest of the disc is at a slightly lower, but consistent, level of quality. The whole EP clocks in in about 12 minutes, so when you hear something you don’t like (Sunset in a Breath’s got too many cute effects for something that short), it’s over in about 90 seconds anyway.

You can get it in about 30 seconds right here:

http://www.last.fm/music/Marilyn+Roxie/Ermine+EP

It’s like there was some crazy rift in the jazz time continuum, dropping the best record from thirty years later into their laps in the present day. The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady is another old school record worth dropping in your music collection, and as much as I like to rag on people who worship vinyl, this is a genre that’s actually best suited to the medium.

Let’s say you think your spouse is lying about something and you confront them about it. If they tell you a ten minute story and just one part of it is something you know is a lie, it makes you question the veracity of the entire story. When Alex Rodriguez says has a cousin that popped out of freaking nowhere like The Great Gazoo, grabbed something off the street from the Dominican Republic and injected it into his butt for years without him so much as asking what it is, you start to question everything he tells you later during the interview. Our relationship with music is similar. If there’s one thing that grates us on the record, a sqeaky vocalist or bad production or awful lyrics, it weighs down the entire experience. Nowhere is this more evident than in jazz – a song that’s too long or too short, has one instrument that’s out of sync with the others, or just doesn’t hold your attention, can make an otherwise great song unlistenable.

As a composer and a man, he was abrasive, violent, and difficult. He never hestitated to stop a show to chew out an audience member who wasn’t paying attention or a band member who wasn’t playing his part properly, sometimes throwing them out in the middle of a show. But for those who were willing to get close and pay attention, Charles Mingus defied the slim margin of error his actions might have given him, and left impressions that lasted a lifetime. Mingus was a bassist, bandleader, composer and sometimes a piano player who grew up in Watts during the 30’s – he lived in a strict household and wasn’t allowed to listen to anything besides gospel inside the house, but one day he snuck in a copy of Duke Ellington’s “East St. Louis Toodle-Oo” under the watchful eyes of his parents, and the record both inspired him to take up music himself, and created a lifelong affinity for Ellington’s work.

A prodigy on bass, he worked his way up the ranks as soon as he left high school, playing small nightclubs, touring, and building a reputation that would eventually land him in some of the most talented jazz ensembles ever assembled. His style, wild and unrestricted, earned him numerous guest spots on other records, even as he worked to start his own label where he could get free of the politics of the music business and nurture promising talent.

In the year 1963, Charles Mingus wrote “The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady”, which is considered to be among the peaks of the genre. The album was so person in nature that he asked his therapist, Dr. Edmund Pollock to listen to the record and provide the liner notes for inclusion in the final copy. Mingus chimed in with a little of his own writing:

“I feel no need to explain any further the music herewith other than to say throw all other records of mine away except maybe one other.”

And yeah. It’s that good. The album is about 40 minutes long, but even though it’s not technically as long as Bitches Brew, it feels longer – the six piece was written as a ballet and is often referred to as an assessment of his inner self, sprawling, disturbed, and unlike any other jazz piece created. Charles Mingus referred to the style he used here as a sort of ethnic folk dance melody. The orchestrations that are applied here are rich, with a lot of interwoven layers – this was the first jazz album to apply overdubbing technology.

“The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady” consists of muted brass that is almost vocal like, some low rumbling of the tuba and the baritone sax, and great highlights of the alto saxophone by Charlie Mariano. Charles Mingus also includes shifting beats, moaning discord and multiple offlines that make it very complex. There is so much emotion in this piece of music that you can clearly sense from the mourning, fury, suffering and frustration that Mingus incorporated.

The original score of the album was practiced at a Village Vanguard meeting. Mingus let the band members to shape the music even further at this point. “The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady” album was one of the most highlighted developments in avant-garde jazz in the 1960’s. It’s also the best work that Mingus did in his jazz career. Not only was it an expression of the intense emotions that he was experiencing at the time but also shows his skill as a jazz composer and technician.

1. Solo Dancer
2. Duete Solo Dancers
3. Group Dancers
4. Medley: Trio & Group Dancers, Single Solos & Group Dance, Group & Solo Dance