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Why I Decree it to Be So:My oh my, how I do so love love love The Love Language. I adored their self-titled debut and was convinced they couldn't possibly get any better. But lo and behold, along came Libraries. And somehow, wouldn't you know it, The Love Language bested themselves. They lost a little of the lo-fi crackle between then and now, but each song on Libraries has that same lazy summer haze feel to it. Album opener "Pedals" explodes from a sultry slow burn into a starburst of sound behind the prettily plaintive vocals of ringleader Stuart McLamb. "Brittany's Back" brings the Carolina backyard dance party vibe like nobody's business. "Summer Dust" and "Anthrophobia" were made for slow dancin' and "Heart To Tell" just screams dancefloor frolics. Libraries also boasts one of the best lines of the year: "I'm no sailor/I want to rock the boat" (from "Heart To Tell"). Classic. McLamb's wonderful lyrics abound, proving once more than he has a knack for the forlorn and the lovesick. Just call him the patron saint of the lovelorn. Libraries is utterly, totally swoon-worthy.mp3: Heart To Tell (The Love Language from Libraries)
There are bands I’ve seen once and been quite happy to leave at that. There are bands, however, that happen to require frequent live observation. Bands that you can’t get enough of. Bands that you could see night in and night out and still crave more. I just so happen to have seen not one, not two, but three of this variety of band on one bill. Lucky, no? The bands in question? The Love Language, Lost In The Trees, and Pomegranates. Or, as you might wish to refer to them, Amazing, Amazing, and Amazing.
MINI RECAP: Pomegranates = Adorably Perfect! Lost In The Trees = Lovely Terrificness! The Love Language = Loves Of My Life! Overall score: A
When last I saw Pomegranates, they were playing a late late late show at a small boutique in the middle of Richmond. It’s been a while, and the band is definitely moving up in the world (and deservedly so). Their sound is even better than I had remembered, luscious and rich, playful and exuberant. The music this band makes is totally adorable, like the band themselves, yet with a subtle air of sophistication creeping in. It’s poptastic, yet they can put the pedal to the metal at a moment’s notice, squashing the fluff in favor of feverish noise. I adore the sort of dreaminess in their music, giving it a lighter-then-air feeling at times. And oh yeah. That smoke machine? Cutest thing ever. I picked up on some hints of the early years of The Verve in some of their songs, and y’all know that equates to winner winner chicken dinner in my book. However, for all their swirling lull, they can get the ole hips a-swayin’ no problem. They’re a lively bunch, those Pomegranates, and they are utterly, totally, ever-so completely delightful. Closing with a kickily rollicking rendition of “Everybody Come Outside”, the band shut it down on a high note. I had all but forgotten how splendid a live band they were, but believe you me I won’t be forgetting that again.
It was then time for the mysterious sandwich band with whom I was totally unfamiliar. Friends, that was a major oversight on my part. North Carolinians Lost In The Trees were intriguing, beguiling, and plenty of other –ings too. This massively nebulous conglomeration won me over immediately. I mean, who doesn’t love a band that starts their set in the middle of the crowd? And things only got better from there. The band is in possession of a slightly mysterious and spooky kinda sound, somewhat in the vein of the glorious Devotchka, but with more of that down home Southern thang goin’ on. They’ve got brass and they’ve got strings, but they are neither brassy nor stringy. Instead, they hover somewhere in the realms of haunting and enchanting, with a plaintive quality to their beautiful earthiness. To quoth my friend Bill, himself a North Carolina resident, there’s definitely something very cinematic to their music, being as expansive and grand as it can be. This music would have made a perfect accompaniment to my drive home from North Carolina a few weekends back, what with the glow of the sun hitting the turning leaves just so against a gentle blue sky. So very pretty. And so very highly recommended.
And on came The Love Language. When last I saw them, I was hithering and thithering with abandon down at SXSW 2009, and didn’t get to appreciate a full Love Language set. But tonight, on lead LL man Stuart McLamb’s birthday, that was put to right. And it was a superb little set, I assure you. After a slight delay for some birthday shots, McLamb & co. began to play, and I began to swoon. They somehow managed to sound even better than I had hoped, casting a spell with their sugar-coated heartbreak and all around loveliness. As the band played on, I couldn’t help my mind from wandering to the thought that North Carolina is a hotbed of good music possibly on par with the big boys of New York, LA, and Austin. I really am still processing just how very good they were. My one complaint about the set was that I wanted to hear more old stuff, but then, I’m just silly sometimes. But of course, hearing the jingle jangle swamp rock of “Lalita” quickly put everything right. As did this entire evening.
All I can say, ladies and gentlemen, is that these three bands are worth your time, and your eternal love and affection. I know they’ve all got mine.
mp3: 50's (Pomegranates from the forthcoming One Of Us)
mp3: Heart To Tell (The Love Language from Libraries)
Ok, perhaps this isn’t really all that fair. Festivals really do, by their very nature, out shadow just about any regular gig. Their sheer size and stature, for one, assures that they are forces to be reckoned with. And last year’s SXSW was no exception. It’s the biggest show and biggest festival I’ve ever been to, and hot damn was it a good time. It was head and shoulders above just about every other show I went to last year, and easily wins this here category.
From our first night’s dive bar special seeing bands like Cartright and Your 33 Black Angels at a wonderful dive to the bitchin’ New Zealand party in Brush Square Park to the awesomeness of Primal Scream at La Zona Rosa to the killer wall of drone put forth by The Black Angels and special guest Roky Erickson, the entire festival was an endless, frantic, frenzied party. I mean, you know it’s gonna be good when entire city blocks are literally shut down to traffic to allow for the smooth (-ish) foot traffic of bands and festival-goers. Bar after bar after bar plays host to hundreds and hundreds of bands and thousands and thousands of press and industry people. Sure, I got so into SXSW that I was physically sick, but it was so worth it.
The schedule of the festival was so jam-packed full of bands that trying to schedule what to see was a Herculean task. But really, it was a no-lose situation. No matter what you see at any given SXSW, you’re almost assured that it’s going to be something good. And after seeing The Black Lips, Primal Scream, Ringo Deathstarr, Graham Coxon, The Love Language, Glasvegas, and many others, I can safely say that SXSW 2009 was the top dog of 2009 live events. And man oh man, I sure do wish I was going back this year. The lineup sounds fantastic, and it's just such a grand old time. SXSW 2011, here I come. Dammit.
mp3: Sparxxx (The Love Language from The Love Language)
mp3: Veni Vidi Vici (The Black Lips from Good Bad Not Evil)
mp3: Medication (Primal Scream from Vanishing Point)
In the spirit of this year’s Olympic Games, The Love Language win this countdown’s bronze medal, finishing 2009 at #3. Full of burning and yearning and longing and loss, this self-titled debut LP serves as quite the coming out party for these North Carolinians. As far as I’m concerned, it’s got it all: throaty, warbling vocals, slightly slipshod, roughly lo-fi production, and enough charm to fill several albums. I was once told, by a North Carolinian, that bands like this are all over the great state of North Carolina, and if that’s the case I just might have to think about moving there permanently.
“I could have died in your arms/Now I’m back at your feet,” from “Two Rabbits” sets the tone on The Love Language. Mistakes, regret, sorrow. Repeat. The rambunctious stomper “Lalita” was my introduction to The Love Language, and as with the whole album I found myself powerless against its immediately magnetic force. Full of wonderful lyrics like, “I’d pour you another/but I think I heard the bottle break on the bedroom floor,” “Lalita” is a potent little gem of a song. Not only does The Love Language do jangly, lively songs well, but they particularly excel at one of my favorite song types, the plaintive, sniffling little tearjerkers. “Stars” is one of these, bringing the frenetic mood of the preceding “Lalita” down to a sorrowful crawl. “You shot me down just as I was startin to feel alive/Little girls tell the biggest lies,” croon they, as the acoustic guitar strums and the drums mope on. “Manteo,” another dreamy, somewhat skulking slow song, features more wonderfully sad lyrics, “You had a boy you trusted/And I had a heart full of lies,” and the delightful addition of some jingle bells.
All in all, The Love Language is a record drenched in woe, heavy with regret and remorse and guilt. It’s torn and frayed and a lovely piece of heartbreak. Maybe I just love it cuz I’m a total sucker for a sad song, but be that as it may, sad songs don’t get much better.
Why I Decree it to Be So:
