Helvetia – Dromomania (Joyful Noise)
Jason Albertini of Helvetia was an early installation of the Northwestern sound of the 90s and 2000s, having played with Northern California bands like Duster, recording with Xiu Xiu and Dinosaur Jr.’s Mike Johnson, and more recently playing bass with Built to Spill. I think this is why it’s so surprising to me how freshly “Northwestern” this album sounds. This album is the kind of thing you would expect to hear from some early 20 something who grew up on their parents’ Modest Mouse and Microphones albums. It has all the elements of that era; it’s all distorted, understated and over compressed. But the ideas are new and energetic. Helvetia has released numerous albums since 2006, but somehow managed to keep the adventurous spirit of a debut home recording. The twists and turns are abound with psychedelic delays and mellotrons giving way to power chords and feedback. And for such a spacey and mellow album, there isn’t a boring moment on it. Even when things are hovering just about the ground, there’s always an energetic bass line or sharp drum beat holding it all aloft. This album is an attention grabber for sure, one of the rare cases where we sell a copy every time it’s in the player.


Shopping – Why Choose (Fat Cat)
When referring to any kind of dance music, I feel it’s necessary to distinguish between the kind of music you’re supposed to dance to and the kind that just makes you dance. It has always been a mystery to me that much of the post-punk genre hasn’t had more staying power in the dance clubs. I could say the same for a lot of 60s rhythm and blues as well as much latin and african music, which are also absent from today’s dance floors. This is music that pulls you out of your head and leaves you as just a heavy bag of limbs, seemingly controlled by some manic puppet master. If I had to make an uneducated hypothesis as to why the clubs stick to the most simplistic, repetitive beats of “dance” music and reject the more primal rhythms, I would guess it’s because clubs are often about so much more than dancing. Patrons are trying to portray an image that is a mix of confidence and apathy. Kind of hard to do when you’re a sweaty mess, flailing like a madman. Shopping has all the elements of that primal rhythm that reaches our more uninhibited selves. Similar to such pioneers of post punk as The Contortions, DNA, Slits, Talking Heads and Gang of Four, the music is at the same time angsty and disjointed, as well as angular and jovial. It speaks to the array of emotions we all carry, often bottled up to keep our composure and appearances. But when we play this album in the store, you will no doubt see heads bobbing and toes tapping. And when we sell a copy, I feel a bit voyeuristic, imagining the dance party that will no doubt be happening between you and your pets later in the evening. However you’ll get no shaming or judgement from me. Dance on!


Pure Bathing Culture – Pray for Rain (Partisan)
Pure Bathing Culture sounds like all of this 80s-inspired, chill wave, soft rock revival coming to a head and finally find its own voice. It has the signature tight snare and high end sounds so popular today and thirty years ago, but instead of trying to imitate the songwriting of the 80s, these songs sound more contemporary. I hear a lot of similarity to the song writing of Mac Demarco; just good, solid pop tunes with some derivative arrangements thrown in for context. There are some hints of 80s sitcom sprinkled throughout, but not to the detriment of the whole. Everything seems to work just fine. As a 36 year old who lived through the 80s, I often find myself throwing my arms up and rolling my eyes at all of this nostalgia for things that were discounted by the music critics of the day. However, I can understand that out of context, a lot of that stuff was just pure fun, and if you weren’t around to hear it on every radio station and in every Pepsi commercial, you can just enjoy it for the fun that it was. I will not be controlled by my own biases I will not be controlled by my own biases I will not be controlled by my own biases.


Nicola Cruz – Prender El Alma (ZZK)
Mixing electronic music with worldly sounds and rhythms is nothing new, and I’ll admit, is often brushed off as a cheap thrill. I remember not so long ago, the electronic music world being lousy with tablas and tuvan throat singing. It seemed too much like a way to feel interesting while not straying out of your comfort zone. This isn’t to say that there isn’t some really great world-inspired electronic music. After all, as stated before, you won’t find music more well fitted to dancing than the deeply rooted rhythms of old cultures. But what we have here on Prender El Alma seems to be something completely different. The traditional instrumentation is at the forefront, creating the songs and beats with acoustic instruments, while the electronics serve to color the surrounding. It has all the trapping of dub or trance music, but with more respect paid to the origins. It’s similar to how St. Germain approaches jazz music or Suba with Brazilian music. Nicola Cruz has crafted a perfectly likable album of world electronica without pandering to the comfort zone of dance clubs.


Julia Wolfe – Anthracite Fields (Cantaloupe)
This list usually consists of albums getting continuous play in the store, but this album is reserved for those moments when recommendations and conversation go a little deeper than the immediately palatable fair. Julia Wolfe composes strong, dissonant, minimalistic compositions, often with a clear image of inspiration highlighted in the names of her pieces. Her 2002 piece “Big, Beautiful, Dark and Scary” is just that. Another earlier piece titled “Stronghold” was written for 8 double basses, invoking images of towering, cement walls, guarded by 8 large, looming figures. On Anthracite Fields, Wolfe turned to her hometown of Montgomeryville, PA and it’s long history of coal mining for inspiration. The pieces focus mostly on the workers and the struggles of their profession. The opening piece features the chorus singing the names of miners who have died on the job, punctuating the vast number of deaths by only including the names of those with the first name “John” (and only “Johns” with one syllable last names) continuously for 15 minutes of this 19 minute piece.
This is a heavy listen, covering heavy content. But as with some modern compositions, it isn’t so esoteric as to loose it’s message. There are heavy guitars and drums, as well as some folkier tunes, grounding much of the piece to it’s rural, middle american roots. It doesn’t attempt to make sense of the plight of these workers or to exploit them in any way. It seems more like a reaction to a long, complicated history that is behind much of the progress of this country. As a fan of modern classical music, I find it’s important for composers to step outside of the academic world this type of music is commonly found and pull inspiration from the stories, art and experiences of the vast variety of people in our world. Julia Wolfe seems to have that sort of grounding and has crafted a piece as heavy and poignant as it is beautiful and sonically captivating.