The American Dollar - A Memory Stream

http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?zcnmenyxzhn

TRACKLIST

1 The Slow Wait (1)
2 The Slow Wait (2)
3 Call
4 Bump
5 Intermission
6 Lights Dim
7 Transcendence
8 Our Hearts Are Read
9 Anything You Synthesize
10 We’re Hitting Everything
11 Starscapes

Another lovely, introverted post-rock album from The American Dollar. Get anything you can by these guys, they're great; they're not so hung up on the 'OMG EPICCCCCCCCCCCC' side of post-rock, their sound is much more personal.

Benoît Pioulard - Temper

http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?ylrgxeise4b

Benoît Pioulard's second album, Temper, picks up where his phenomenal debut, Précis, left off. Many were stunned by the dreaming ambient soundscapes that Pioulard, the nom de guerre of Thomas Meluch, produced; his hazy vocals complemented the instrumentals, creating one of the greatest folk albums of the last decade. Temper, while stylistically similar, is not a sequel to Précis; Meluch explores new paths here, but still produces an album which is an immensely satisfying listen.

McCoy Tyner - The Real McCoy

http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?6uiiywnnvxz

Arguably McCoy Tyner's greatest recording, and at the very least his most well-known. With two veritable legends alongside [bassist Ron Carter and drummer Elvin Jones], the session was bound to be brilliant. Tyner delivers here; this is an absolute must-have for any jazz connoiseur.

Madlib - Beat Konducta Vol. 5: Dil Cosby Suite

LINK DELETED

New Madlib album featuring J-Rocc, this is a tribute album for the late, great J Dilla.

TRACKLIST

1		For My Mans (Prelude)
2		The Mystery (Dilla’s Still Her)
3		Beat Provider (Through The Years)
4		J’s Day Theme #3 (Support)
5		In Jah Hands (Dilla’s Lament)
6		Get Dollaz (24-7)
7		The String (Heavy Jones)
8		Two For Pay Jay (No Dough, No Show)
9		No More Time? (The Change)
10		Do You Know? (Transition)
11		Dirty Hop (The Shuffle)
12		Floating Soul (Peace)
13		Infinity Sound (Never Ending)
14		Sacrifice (Beat-A-Holic Thoughts)
15		Rebirth Cycle (Super Soul)
16		Rolled Peach Optimos (Call Day)
17		The Main Inspiration (Coltrane Of Beats)
18		The Get Over (Move)
19		Shades Of Pete (Super)
20		King Chop (Top Line)
21		Anthenagin' (?)

Stafrænn Hákon - Gummi

http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?u4bnoarkzor

A beautiful little post-rock/ambient album by Icelandic musician Stafrænn Hákon. Great stuff.

TRACKLIST

1		Járn (8:30)
2		Svefn (5:46)
3		P-Rofi (6:40)
4		Rjúpa (5:34)
5		Hausi (7:57)
6		Kvef (10:05)
7		Þurr Þurr (4:49)
8		Glussi (4:31)
9		Veggur (9:05)

of Montreal - Skeletal Lamping

http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?i17hxkgtkez

Kevin Barnes' alternate persona Georgie Fruit makes his first full-length performance on this album, a brilliant all-around effort which spans from wacky indie pop to neo-psychedelic with some funky basslines thrown in. A must have for any of Montreal fan, this is even better than Hissing Fauna, Are You The Destroyer?


TRACKLIST

1. "Nonpareil of Favor" 5:48
2. "Wicked Wisdom" 5:00
3. "For Our Elegant Caste" 2:35
4. "Touched Something's Hollow" 1:26
5. "An Eluardian Instance" 4:35
6. "Gallery Piece" 3:48
7. "Women's Studies Victims" 2:59
8. "St.Exquisite's Confessions" 4:35
9. "Triphallus, to Punctuate!" 3:23
10. "And I've Seen a Bloody Shadow" 1:30
11. "Plastis Wafers" 8:02
12. "Death Is Not a Parallel Move" 3:01
13. "Beware Our Nubile Miscreants" 4:52
14. "Mingusings" 3:01
15. "Id Engager" 3:24

Rivulets - You Are My Home

http://www.mediafire.com/?ujwzmivohv5

A lovely little laptop-folk album which I only just discovered, though it was released way back in 2006. Fragile vocals, minimal instrumentation, and a very introspective, personal feel. 'Motioning' is my favourite track on the album, I've been humming it to myself most of this last week.

TRACKLIST:

1		Glass Houses (1:59)
2		Can't I Wonder (4:25)
3		You Are My Home (5:59)
4		Heartless (4:24)
5		Motioning (6:15)
6		Green House (3:24)
7		Win Or Lose (2:22)
8		To Be Home (2:38)
9		You Sail On (2:45)
10		Happy Ending (4:50)
11		Morning Light (4:26)

Enjoy.

Shingo Suzuki - The Abstract Truth

http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?ysgw0xigbvl

What if Nujabes was more bombastic and funky? Then he'd be Shingo Suzuki.

'Nuff said.

Tonda Trio - Slow Bullets

http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?qwyixulzilv

Chillout/hiphop with some jazz influences. This is really cool stuff.

01. Intro
02. Twisted In The Moonset
03. Tondazimu
04. Soul Scuba 95
05. Illberockin'
06. In The Middle Part. 1
07. Time Afta
08. A Quiet Cafe
09. In The Middle Part. 2
10. 100 Miles Far
11. Jet Black
12. Tide
13. Song For Yuki

Bonnie 'Prince' Billy - Is It The Sea?

http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?xlulcs8daqh

Live folk album by Bonnie 'Prince' Billy, aka Will Oldham. It's yummy.

Goldmund - The Malady Of Elegance

http://sharebee.com/3a689b8d

It would seem the folks over at Type have two distinct heads—craggy and android—and it’s the former they dust off for their latest delivery, letting the sodium tray shine along Bronson-esque crow’s feet while they once again flirt with the camera. Release number thirty-nine comes direct from the desk of Keith Kenniff, whose EPs under his Goldmund and Helios identities have earned him some far-flung subscribers, though this time the traveling orchestra he typically commands has been eschewed in favor of rustic keys, tinkling like dust in a Western. The Elegance Of Malady is Kenniff’s polite stab at the founding frontier of American soundtracks, harking back to a time before cowboys where spartan pianos helped break up the crosswinds and sunburn, and stands as a worthy coda for Type’s recent cinematic trilogy (see also Peter Broderick’s Float and Grouper’s Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill, both released this year). It’s not often popcorn tastes this nutritious.

Elegance‘s fifteen tracks aren’t as bleak as their compositional parameters would imply and, despite the occasional dip into melancholy, Kenniff is more interested in sustaining an atmosphere than he is in scoring fifteen emotions. “Finding It There” is a mesmerizing premature finale, the kind of cue Sam Raimi mined to wrap up the second Spider-Man, while “John Harrington” plays out like Scott Joplin sent crawling across midnight tundra, struggling to marshal the chords as his fingers slowly stop working. Attentive listening confirms the highly climatic feel to the record: most notably in the quiet subtext of drizzle not unlike Need More Sources’ ShedThe Assassination Of Jesse James alternate ending of “Threnody,” for instance, or the way “The Winter Of 1539-1540” takes Johnny Klimek’s theme for One Hour Photo and bends until it feels televised. There’s even a whiff of breaking curfew with a couple of tracks going Euro—the tempered Swod in Subtle The Sum and the Porn-Sword-Tobacco-goes-to-finishing-school nuances buried in the album’s conclusion. project—just the job for the graphite solstice haranguing the skies. That said, every wintry landscape has its sepia portrait counterpart:

The best thing since sliced bread it is not, but the only prominent downside to The Malady Of Elegance is that even the grandest of themed projects can feel limited depending on your attention span. Fifty-six minutes of confederate nostalgia might be a cumbersome pill to swallow for some, and the trickles of feathery keys aren’t likely to pull you up out of chair—not unless you dance like sewage through a slow gulley. However, as a stand-alone genre exercise, Kenniff has concocted a pearl, and one that oozes spookiness like the solitary playback of abandoned vinyl. The shroud surrounding Type grows ever more luminous by the particle.

--cokemachineglow

They gave this album 72%, but in my opinion it's at least 90%. Great neo-classical pianist. I might upload some of his other work if this gets a few comments.

One Day As A Lion - One Day As A Lion [EP]

http://sharebee.com/7d8e5d60

Zack de la Rocha of Rage Against The Machine meets Jon Theodore of the Mars Volta.

Zack's voice isn't the same as on RATM; his voice his heavily-processed, giving it a sublime, almost not-there feel. Theodore is on point. And whoever played guitar on the album loaded up on reverb. This ends up sounding like a noise/alternative/hip-hop experiment with heavy political overtones. Great EP, and if nothing else it just whets your appetite for the eventual LP.

Okkervil River - The Stand-Ins

http://sharebee.com/e10e1069

"Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose."
The Wonder Years

That quote is, in my opinion, the essence of this album. Will Sheff's vocals are beautiful, with soft, mournful lyrics complementing the brilliant instrumentation. We hear boppy drums, light guitar strums, horns, strings, and just about everything else in between, all contributing to a mood which calls back images of faded memories.

"To live in hearts we leave behind
Is not to die."
Thomas Campbell

Sheff tries to hold onto them, and even, for just a fleeting moment, you and I might see them. Maybe listening to this album is the only way to recall those memories before they're lost again ... forever. Maybe this is Will Sheff's way of trying to make sure his memories aren't lost forever.

"That's the funny thing about memories, we are not what we remember of ourselves. We are what people say we are. They project upon us their convictions. We are nothing but blank screens."
Trevor Goodchild

How does this album make you feel? Whose memories are they recalling? Are these stories even real? Does their artificiality even make them unreal?

"By believing in his dreams, a man turns them into reality."
Hergé

The fact is, this album is real; it conveys real humanity, and it doesn't need to be factually true to retain its meaning. Listen, love, and most of all ... remember.

Julian Fane - Special Forces

http://sharebee.com/899ab938

I've never been great at reviews, so I'll just tell you what it feels like. It feels like the album art. A cold, desolate, isolated view of the world. Song titles like "Disaster Location," "Freezing In Haunted Water" and "Stasis" obviously tell you that this is an album for late night solitude. The thumping drums, the layered strings, along with glitches and clicks for good measure, that's what's at the heart of this album. I hope you guys like it as much as I did.

Cat Power - You Are Free

http://sharebee.com/b87f4203

This album is just beautiful. Plain beautiful. That's all I need to say. But if you want a professional review:

Liz Phair was a grifter. Using sexuality as a weapon, she turned the tables on obsessive boys and set their hearts aflutter with brazen lyrics, from the flagellant lust of "Flower" to her dead-to-the-world praise for doin' it doggie-style, "That way we can fuck and watch TV." Yet, forgiving a few heartfelt ballads like "Explain It to Me", Phair was in many ways a coy tease, partying and watching porn with guys she'd never date, despite their lust for her.

Chan Marshall (aka Cat Power) was never such fun, never crude or masculine; she's the opposite fantasy, the porcelain art-school doll whose blissful confusion you could never hold in your hands. She's the girl that never called you back, that made you lose your cool and leave two messages. Every time you see her on the street, or a mutual friend tells you, "Yeah, I saw her at Cokie's, she's dating the guy from so and so," it ruins your weekend.

The cagiest of modern songbirds, Chan has a famously fragile ego and skittish countenance. She's wrestled with the consequences of baring a relentlessly observant soul to the world, and bagged on any number of shows when heckled or simply "not feeling it." What fame she currently enjoys is due in large part to the fallout from those freakouts, the reputation of being "crazy," and it's absolute bullshit. The Problem With Music doesn't have as much to do with the influence of corporations or digital piracy as it does the delirious desire to be spat upon or condescended to by seemingly unflappable, fuck-everything rebels, projecting a confidence their sycophantic fans wish they could muster. Kids want to see their dreams onstage-- which used to be harmless-- but cool, cold fantasies about credibility, cash and chaos have given rise to an increasingly cocksure collection of unserious dopes with store-bought sticky-up hair. It's a solid indication that pose is still prose to the uneducated, and that nothing has really changed in fifty years.

Unlike most celebrities-- evidence her fall 2001 fashion spread in New York magazine-- Chan Marshall is unrecognizable from one photo to the next. One moment she's a giddy fourteen year-old; the next, she's withdrawn, wary and wise, the music world's Juliette Binoche. Recently, she's Nico. Whether anxiety, insecurity, substance abuse or all three are to blame, few artists have gone through as much physical change without plastic surgery. In person, Marshall's face undulates with each syllable, conveying a vast range of emotions in a single inflection. When she's singing, however, it's an entirely different story: Ms. Power is a siren on stage, a shepherdess, gently coaxing words across indefinite miles of memory before tenderly putting them to pasture, or unleashing whatever betrayal they carry in tow. She's a representative for all manner of loss and regret, and serves us in good stead on You Are Free.

1998's Moon Pix set the stage for a hugely promising follow-up, but Chan missed the side of that barn: The Covers Record was a dashed off, carefree run through the classics, a placeholder for creativity she was unable to channel. In hindsight, it's a good thing she didn't record any new material after the mostly disastrous Moon Pix tour. There's an overt irony to The Covers Record insofar as Chan hid under them for a few years.

Those days-- the sad days, the manic, childish days-- seem very long gone, as Cat Power reclaims her history, potential and allure in this collection of impressionist vignettes, hampered by a few flat numbers and some awkwardly totemic (though entirely expected) nods to Joni Mitchell. "I Don't Blame You" is one of the latter, Chan's pining letter to Kurt Cobain that also serves as a third-person apology to self, the sort of thing addicts and those new to therapy pen on admission. She uses the opening slot as a mostly disconnected salvo, only slipping into this sort of nudity once more, on the brutal "Names", which is either a public service announcement against child abuse or an honest recollection of tragedies Chan Marshall witnessed growing up.

"He War" enjoyed most of the advance praise for this album, posted in digital preview form on her record label's website. This pounding centerpiece is second only to PJ Harvey's "Big Exit" in the canon of Heart tributes, but it carries in tow the stilted tempo and clean electric guitars dominating indie rock since Guided by Voices came on the scene. Beyond nominally decrying the Quixotic male impulse that fuels her oeuvre, "He War" underscores how remarkable Marshall's voice is, turning an otherwise pedestrian, technically amateur tune into an assured rock anthem draped in sonorous, shrill wails. The tune proves a worthy successor to the detached, bemused innocence of "Cross Bones Style", whose referentially genius video broke Cat Power to a wider audience.

Marshall scribbles a Crayola-colored, daydreamt recollection of the phony-tough cock-rock that ruled the radios of her youth on "Free", a moment of stylistic daring that incorporates a deadened drum machine snare with urgent (think Foreigner here) strumming. It's the sound of a more attuned, sensitive kid finding her way in the dark, and the only song on You Are Free to risk disaster, openly toying with SK-1 keys and a guitar lead unintentionally pinched from the Talking Heads' tongue-in-cheek "Wild Wild Life". The gamble pays off, and just two songs into the album, it's clear that Chan's taken its title to heart.

The Cat Power we've come to know, love, and predict finally delivers that glistening, trebly rasp on "Good Woman", a ballad backed by Dirty Three violinist Warren Ellis, as well as a compressed chorale of soprano vocal doubling. Eddie Vedder's presence on You Are Free is both appropriate and gentle given his unmistakable coo. You'll recognize it-- and for anyone still mired in divisive squabbling, his breathy moan could ruin the record-- but the two duets with Vedder are the strongest of too many funereally morose dirges that bind the album.

"Speak for Me" transports anyone who lived through Pavement's ascendancy back to the breathless expectancy in advance of Wowee Zowee, something Cat Power also felt: she's covered "We Dance" since just after that record came out. The playful backbeat chorus and toy pianos of "Speak for Me" are partnered with another throwback, this time to Chan's low-fidelity roots. Her cover of Michael Hurley's two-chord country blues number "Werewolf" is abbreviated from rambling, epic versions you may have heard in concert, and though it's aided by David Campbell's string arrangements (reminiscent of Carter Burwell's soundtrack work), it could lay in next to anything from Marshall's earlier Myra Lee LP. "Fool" makes a perfect counterpoint to "Werewolf", in terms of Chan's maturation where songwriting, production and subject matter are concerned. Her disdain is getting personal, her subject matter less ephemeral, as she scolds rich Americans driven by wanderlust and entitlement. With haunting harmonies and a teasing pause, the chorus tugs at the heartstrings of twenty-something confusion.

For the stunning variety and intrigue of its first eight songs, the second half of You Are Free is spotty, and a draining letdown. As the old adage goes, ten songs is an album, and in this case, fourteen is a few too many. Some of the closing tracks should have been kept back for B-sides; the overwrought, repetitive "Half of You" is a less meaningful pastiche than the searing Western blues heard earlier on the record, and "Maybe Not" is basically an alternate piano take on "Fool".

Chan's been playing the frayed Joni Mitchell card in advance of You Are Free, and it's starting to wear thin. The two real missteps here are "Baby Doll", a too-simple nylon guitar plod, and a fantastic but hiss-coated cover of John Lee Hooker's "Crawlin' Black Spider" (reappropriated as "Keep on Runnin'", surely as a stab at her former lover, Smog's Bill Callahan). Again, this cover is outstanding on its own merits, but interrupts the album, forestalling the icy chill of its stupendous finale, "Evolution".

The monotonous, glacial insistence of You Are Free's last track-- Cat Power's proper duet with Eddie Vedder-- is as out of place as its opener, a perfect bookend and resolution to a record that almost effortlessly shifts between incongruous styles. Vedder appears in hushed baritone, nicely meshing with the piano line and allowing Chan's tongue-tied, sedated lilt to sit on top. "Evolution" is as poetic a retelling of moral apocalypse as you're likely to come by, insofar as it ignores melodramatic conviction and the temporal impulse to wax politic. This is pure Hemingway.

You Are Free is full of arresting, serene beauty, but as an album-- as that quantifiable object-- it has composite failings. Sans a handful of lesser inclusions and tributes, the imaginary, shorter version of You Are Free is flawless. An unknown singer would take the apologist underground by storm with a record like this, but fame brings expectation and accountability, and certain people are going to be disappointed for the wrong reasons. You Are Free is not a perfect record, but it contains one, detailing the sound of American regret with a singular voice, scrutinized only because of its owner.

Enjoy the indie goodness.

Freedom

I just finished all my assessments for this term, which is a very good thing. On the other hand, I have a handful of humongous exams in about 6 weeks, which is a very bad thing. Now, to make the bad outweigh the good, here are two very good things:

http://sharebee.com/44a0ac01

Post-rock with a bit of jazz for good measure? Yes sir. This is one of my favourite albums to be released this year; check it out, it's great.


Highly recommended album.

And now, good thing #2:

http://sharebee.com/cb5e0829

Hip-hop... with violins? Hellz YEAH. Don't get it mistaken, this album isn't classical; nor is it purely hip-hop. These two guys bring the raw, explosive passion of hip-hop and translate it to the violin, creating one of the most bizarre yet intriguing and emotive vibes I've heard. Get at this.

Comments are always appreciated.

No Surprises

Actually, there are surprises. Chiefly, The Incredible Hulk actually being a good movie was surprising. Then again, it has Edward Norton, a man who can seemingly do no wrong. Tim Roth was great as Emil Blonsky/The Abomination. Plus, Tony Stark cameo at the end! Fuck all you haters, I <3 Stark's arrogance.

So yeah, I think you should go watch that in cinemas. Or if you're an internet pirate, torrent that shit on IsoHunt or something.

Liv Tyler looks sorta weird, dude. Kinda like Steven. They both have really fish-like faces. She's still cute, though.

Epic45's May Your Heart Be The Map rocks my socks. Thank you to moe for that, it's a lovely record. I love it when albums have those touchy-feely, grainy vocals. (No link, folks, I can't be arsed uploading it.)

Does anyone else think Jack Black is fuckin' hilarious? All his facial expressions and weird sounds and shit just make me crack up; all my buddies think he's lame, though. They don't know shit.

We won in football today 2-1, but I still haven't scored a fucking goal. I think I'm gonna move to left back from striker, I'm a disgusting finisher. I'm happy we won, in any case. Speaking of football... TURKEY! Fuck they are insane. They better get their act together for the Germany game, though, else they'll get blown outta the water.

Alright, my torrent just finished so I'ma go watch that. Take care folks. And watch The Incredible Hulk.

P.S. To all NBA fans... BOSTON MOTHERFUCKER! Celtic pride! Looking for a repeat next year. That is all.

The Good Times Are Killing Me

How awesome is the title to this blog, and this blog post? Once again, 'tis Isaac Brock to the rescue!

So, I've been real busy with school and shit like that lately; this seems likely to continue, in the light of a flurry of impending exams which have done nothing but worsen my temperament. But alas, I persevere.

First thing: if you guys like music, check this shit out, I will post some stuff from time to time. First up is Charles Mingus' album The Clown:

http://sharebee.com/d873be0d

It's pretty cool, if you're into jazz. I recommend it.

Moving on... I kinda like this girl at the moment, which sucks. You guys're thinkin', "Shawn, this is a good thing! It could pull you out of the black hole that is otherwise known as social inadequacy."

But no, this is not, in fact, the case. She has a boyfriend. Fuck. (If you want more details, pursue me on MSN.)

The good times are killing me. Here we go!

Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
Shrug off shortsighted false excitement and oh what can I say?
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.

The good times are killing me.

Kick butt buzz-cut dickheads who didn't like what I said.
The good times are killing me. Jaws clenched tight we talked all night, oh but what the hell did we say?
The good times are killing me. The good times are killing me. The good times are killing me.

Fed up with all that LSD.
Need more sleep than coke or methamphetamines.
Late nights with warm, warm whiskey.
I guess the good times they were all just killing me.

Got dirt, got air, got water and I know you can carry on.
The good times are killing me.
Enough hair of the dog to make myself an entire rug.
The good times are killing me.
Have one, have twenty more "one mores" and oh it does not relent.
The good times are killing me.
Shit-kicker city slickers who all wanted me dead.
The good times are killing me.
Get sucked in and stuck in late nights with more folks that I don't know. The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.
The good times are killing me.