Never Love a Wild Thing

"Never love a wild thing, Mr. Bell," Holly advised him. "That was Doc's mistake. He was always lugging home wild things. A hawk with a hurt wing. One time it was a full-grown bobcat with a broken leg. But you can't give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they're strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That's how you'll end up, Mr. Bell. If you let yourself love a wild thing. You'll end up looking at the sky. ... believe me, Doc---it's better to look at the sky than live there. Such an empty place; so vague. Just a country where the thunder goes and things disappear."

Burnt Palms - "Just For Me"

"I'll never be / Anyone's girl / Just my own / In my own world / I'll never be / Anyone's girl / I'll live and die / In my own world" 

I don't really remember what Ghost World was about, but this song always reminds me of the film:

The Notwist - "Kong"

I don't know anything about the Notwist (how is that pronounced anyway?), and I don't like the first album I've heard by them (Close To the Glass), but this song is really doing it for me this morning:

 

Against Nostalgia

"A man who let himself decline because he could not see any future goal found himself occupied with retrospective thoughts. ... we have already spoken of the tendency there was to look into the past, to help make the present, with all its horrors, less real. But in robbing the present of its reality there lay a certain danger. It became easy to overlook the opportunities to make something positive of [concentration] camp life, opportunities which really did exist. ... everything in a way became pointless. Such people forgot that often it is just such an exceptionally difficult external situation which gives man the opportunity to grow spiritually beyond himself. Instead of taking the camp's difficulties as a test of their inner strength, they did not take their life seriously and despised it as something of no consequence. They preferred to close their eyes and to live in the past. Life for such people became meaningless."

Kevin Drew Announces New Solo Album, Releases New Track

"Good Sex" from Darlings. The new album, his second solo one and the first of two he plans to release in 2014, comes out March 18. Drew said he focused on songwriting on the new album and did away with all the "tricks and explosions." The song is definitely just a straightforward, piano-driven pop song, with often cringeworthy lyrics typical of Drew. But hey, maybe he'll play some early promo shows in Toronto when I'm there next month.

Listen to "Good Sex" below:

The Courtneys "Lost Boys" Video Premier with Peace, So Pitted, and Woolworm at Rainbow Connection, January 4

New year, new venues, new bands. Those were some of my hopes for 2014, and my first show of the year fulfilled all of them. Barring one late addition to the bill, the Courtneys with Peace, So Pitted, and Woolworm at Rainbow Connection was a perfect line-up.

Although I'd never been to Rainbow Connection, it turned out I'd passed it a hundred times, usually on my way to and from another venue only a block west.

Hyped on stories of a New Years Eve show at the nearby Alf House, I was ready to rip it up at the artist-run Rainbow Connection. But true to the venue's name, the night's vibes were totally chill. The place was well-kept too, despite what I'd assumed based on its art-punk clientele and organizers. Maybe everyone has cleaned up their acts in light of last year's rampant closures of DIY spaces.

My expectations for Woolworm were pretty damned high, given that my friend had gushed about them to me since we saw the similarly melodic punk band Swearin'. Even though Woolworm were at their "worst" that my friend had seen, he clarified that they were still awesome. I had to agree. When they started sounding too much like dweeby 90s rock, they veered away from predictable chord progressions towards less structured guitar spasms and crashing drums. One of the most exhilarating sounds all night was a teeth-clenched grunt from singer/guitarist Giles Roy. "RRR!", his muzzled primitive cry went, stuck in his throat. Woolworm closed with a lung-blowingly abrupt end to the final song, "Kill Yourself", which more familiar fans clearly anticipated with their on-cue headbang.

So Pitted, so amazing. First show of the year down, and I can already tell they will be difficult to top. Like Woolworm, Seattle's futuristic grunge trio So Pitted were a band I'd never heard outside of Bandcamp. But I heard some out-of-this-world sounds at Rainbow Connection - not just amazing music but amazing sounds. So Pitted were the clatter of broken robots, the last of a long-obsolete line, fighting to regain dominance. They'll sling mud and kamikaze - these rusted, post-civilization marauders hold nothing back in their sonic raids.

Singer Nathan Rodriguez's noise-bogged guitar blended with Jeannine Koewler's radioactive bass to create a volatile mix, heavy and toxic like industrial waste. It's difficult to be that adventurous behind a drum set as minimal as Liam Downey's; by comparison, he beat away on his drums rather unassumingly. Yet it was when Downey tagged in for guitar and vocals, and Rodriguez tagged out for drums, that So Pitted got freakiest. Whereas vocal mods warped Nathan's snarling into belly-of-the-beast grandeur, the "unassuming" Downey kept calm - creepy, but calm, his voice Animorphed into insectivorous chirps; he even put on a pair X-Ray Spex-like goggles, giving him a cricket-like appearance to match. Meanwhile, Nathan looked so tamed - almost neutered - behind the drums. Downey's guitarwork sounded more calculated and peculiar than Nathan's, which relied more on tones and volume.

After So Pitted was what the whole night was about: the premier of the Courtneys' "Lost Boys" video. The projector signal cut out halfway through, and because we missed an "integral" part (said Courtneys drummer/main singer Jen Twynn Payne), they replayed their four-minute video. I certainly did not mind.

Oddly, the premier came not before the Courtneys but before yet another band, Peace, even though it was the night's main focus. Maybe it was the building's construction, but every band sounded great; even Peace were the best I'd ever heard them.

The Courtneys' set began as usual: easy going, everyone lightly bobbing their heads as the band settles into a gliding groove. Then somehow, "90210", possibly the Courtneys' chillest song (the lyrics even advise listeners to "chill out"), always manages to send bodies flyin'. The crowd topples over amps, knocks over mic stands, which swing into the band; someone always puts the mics back in place, but the ritual just repeats itself all night. It's usually the same live routine with the Courtneys, with one major exception, but I eat it up every time.

"I Wouldn't Say My Music Is Isolated from Any Musical Influences – That's Impossible – ..."

"... but I find it hard to be inspired by the idea of making music that is like other music. Again, of course my music IS somewhat like some other music. But I'm not usually perfectly conscious what it is like. I just have to do what I am inspired to do and frequently I'm inspired by a story or a moment in a film or something – that's what makes me want to write music."

– Julia Holter, Bowlegs interview

Perfect Pussy Announce Vancouver Show

Riotous Syracuse punks Perfect Pussy have announced a 36-date tour. It begins tomorrow and includes a stop in Vancouver on March 25. Unfortunately, they'll be playing a conventional venue rather than a house or art space (not that either are inherently better; Perfect Pussy are just suited to DIY).

Stream Perfect Pussy's debut cassette EP I have lost all desire for feeling below:

Love Cuts: A Mantra

How to get through a day with three simple words: "Hi Smile Wave"

 

Stacked. Stoked: Village, Fantasy Prom (EP Release), OK Vancouver OK, and Philoceraptor at Astorino’s, Feb. 19

 

This is looking like the most stacked show of the year so far, besides tonight's Courtneys/So Pitted/Woolworm/Peace show. It's TWO DOLLARS, AND it's Fantasy Prom's EP release. Gonna be a rip, right.

Further details at the event's Facebook page.

FREE DOWNLOADS: Imaginary Pants Demo Cassette and 7" (Both Self-Titled)

Photo credit: Steve Louie

Imaginary Pants are an indie pop duo that includes Rose Melberg, originally of K Records signees Tiger Trap (amongst other bands). She plays/has played in a lot of bands since relocating from Sacramento to Vancouver several years ago, but Imaginary Pants are probably my favourite.

Oh, and check this Masahiro Takahashi 7" pre-release show that Imaginary Pants, Half Chinese, and one of my most beloved Vancouver bands, Love Cuts (pop with a scrappy punkster edge), are part of. All ages! Pay what you can! Early show! Astorino's! Always a cool time!

"I Urged Everyone To Watch the Last Known Footage of Grammy, ..."

"... at which Uncle Carl waved me away, suggesting it wasn't the time. That was it: she was gone."

 - Nathaniel G. Moore, Savage 1986-2011 (Anvil Press, 2013)

Introducing "Record Lows"

For months, I'd considered archiving Andre Sider af Jackson A. Ragg III and starting a new blog because of technical issues. I've since sorted those issues, but I still wanted to give this blog a minor facelift, and the onset of a new year felt like an appropriate time to do so.

I renamed this blog mainly because I grew tired of not having known how to pronounce "Andre Sider af", especially when people asked me my blog's name. I also grew tired of explaining the title: "I don't know how to pronounce it, but it means 'Other Sides of' in Dutch. It's from a Sonic Youth album, and 'Jackson A. Ragg III' is an online name I use."

I've chosen "Record Lows" because of the polar ways the term can be interpreted. My gut reaction, which I'm sure most people share, is to interpret "record lows" negatively: "record low sales." But the term can be positive too: "record low murder rates." I'm also fond of the term's potential to distract - even deter - readers from the blog's content. If they can't (won't) read the title critically, they likely can't (won't) read the blog critically either; they'll likely be unreceptive of most of the art I share. Such readers are not my ideal audience.

Initially, "Other Sides of Jackson A. Ragg III" made sense: With music as my main subject, I talked in ways many people probably didn't know I could. But after four years, which sometimes felt like a milestone, I'd largely outgrown the title: My "other sides" had long been in the open; I don't even use pseudonyms anymore. My blog needed a title that held more current personal meaning. My 2013 was perforated by personal "record lows," but they were filled by and overflowed with professional "record highs," some of my proudest - and often least expected - experiences, opportunities, and accomplishments, hence the polar word "record."

I don't have plans to update Record Lows' layout, diversify or streamline its content, or post more frequently, but that could all change at any time.

Thanks for reading, listening, commenting, "Like"ing, etc.

The Courtneys: Reminders

I need a job, I need a life
Got a debt, and it's causin' strife
Got a number in my wallet
I've nothing else, so I guess I'll call it

I remember when my life was like this first verse from the Courtneys' "Insufficient Funds". Conditions: just left home for the first time; untouched mountain of student loans, Olympus Mons, followed me to the complete opposite side of the country; the only prospect a cousin's cousin's e-mail: art gallery manager; starving industry; nothing to lose but nearly just as much to gain. The most exhilarating period of my life.

Thanks for the reminder every time.

Favourite Albums of the Year, 2007-2013

What's next? I hear the Courtneys are releasing another one this year...

Saturday Night Will Be Rad

Were you in the Courtneys' "Lost boys" video? Then this show's free! The Courtneys with Woolworm and Seattle's So Pitted at Rainbow Connection. If not, it's probably cheap anyway. This is also the first I've heard of the Courtneys' sophomore album. Will they put out my favourite album of the year two years in a row??

By the way, doesn't So Pitted's "the sickness" sound like a scum-punked up version of Cat Power's "He War"? Compare the songs below:

Best Shows of 2013: King Krule at Fortune Sound Club, December 13

King Krule from eventura photo on Vimeo.

You don't piss off a T-rex. The audience at Fortune Sound Club found that out when Archy Marshall, the 19-year-old wunderkind behind King Krule, blurted, "Yo, fuck that shit!" seemingly out of nowhere mid-set. I didn't find out until days after the show that a fist-fight had broken out on one side of the stage when an audience member tried to barge his way to the front. Krule put down his guitar and nearly jumped (or did jump) into the fray, and a mix of security guards, audience members, and bandmates swooped in to hold him back. Without mentioning the incident, Krule, visibly still fuming, picked up his guitar, announced, "This one’s about lizards," and stormed into a version of "A Lizard State" that could have made dinosaurs tremble.

You don't get a true sense of how mismatched King Krule's tyrannosaurus voice and gecko frame are until you see the young Brighton pogo on stiff legs in front of you, his Jurassic voice roaring at you from "the best sound system in Vancouver." His backing band was also incredible: Lively jazz drum-fills took on post-punk urgency in a literal flick of a wrist. Second guitar, bass, and sampler integrated with Krule to fluidly shift between menacing and dislocated, dark-ambient bossanova cool, all while emitting a New Wave shimmer.

Tom Waits - "16 Shells from a Thirty-Ought-Six"

This song makes me feel like FLIES. Or like that bug level in X-Men: Mutant Apocalypse for Super NES:

Best Shows of 2013: Waxahatchee and Swearin' at the Biltmore Cabaret, November 29

The night before Swearin's and Waxahatchee's co-headlining show at the Biltmore, the sister-bands played in Langley, of all places. "Where [in Langley]?" I asked in immediate disbelief. The late (to me) news made more sense when I learned that the Langley show was at Twin Towers, a frequent spot for house shows. As great as Swearin' and Waxahatchee were at the Biltmore, the house show - within the bands' DIY comfort zone - would have been the one to have seen.

Swearin' and Waxahatchee alternated headlining slots during their fall tour. At the Biltmore, it was Swearin's turn to open. They discharged their hyper-fast, straight-out-of-the-90s rippers, including "Kenosha", "Here To Hear", "Crashing", and "Kill 'Em with Kindness", with some of the greatest clarity I ever heard. Or at least it seemed like some of the greatest clarity I ever heard because I didn't expect Swearin' to have been so tight and hard-hitting. Maybe the disparity between expectation and reality is why typical adjectives such as "sharp", "dense", and "crunchy" somehow feel inadequate in describing the power of their riffs and solos.

Waxahatchee's breakthrough album, this year's Cerulean Salt, has been my go-to album for pretty much any occasion that doesn't involve other people. It soundtracks countless comatose walks to work at five- and six-in-the-morning. In addition to all of the times I want to listen to it, it fills the many quiet voids when I don't know what to listen to.

Waxahatchee was great, as expected, but I actually preferred Swearin'. I never thought that would have been the case. I didn't fully get into Swearin' until pretty close to showtime, and I'm still lukewarm on their second album, the much slower Surfing Strange. Swearin' were just that good. They didn't deplete the night's energy and leave Waxahatchee in a tough spot either; if anything, the crowd was still amped on Swearin'. But Waxahatchee's bedroom pop offered no release. You could feel the restless energy linger in the air, especially as the crowd chattered amongst itself, infiltrating - overtaking - what should have been extremely intimate moments.

Best Shows of 2013: Pere Ubu at the Biltmore Cabaret, December 15

Seeing a decrepit David Thomas, his gigantic frame slouched on a chair, ratty in suspenders, boots, and a trench coat, eyes mostly closed and slit-thin behind equally thin spectacles (could he even see anything through them?), reading from a lyric book whenever he required a prompt, characteristically (caricaturistically) spouting essentially sexist in 2013 in 2003 in well any time comments and stories and half-truths and bold- read: scrunch-faced lies, flanked by percussion and a single guitar that bent around, stabbed through, knotted, seesawed, played sonic tug-of-war with each other within the radioactive sphere of charged Theremin sounds, each note an atom on a collision course, until it was show's over get the fuck out of here fuck the opening band whatever they were called I don't give a shit, Ford Pier Vengeance Trio happily eat it with smiles only because it's David Thomas, who struggles to stand, achingly limps, surprised there was an immediate encore, mere feet in front of my eyes, was one of the most powerful musical experiences of my life.