Today's What You Need Wednesday comes from the Brooklyn-via-Detroit girl-group Habibi. The band name comes from the Arabic word for a male object of affection, which is adorable and way better than just naming your band "Dudes."

Anyway, the music. I'm quick to draw Vivian Girls comparisons (because, hey, they're a girl band from Brooklyn!) and the Marvelettes (because, hey, they're a girl band from Detroit!), but I'm getting a strong 90's pop vibe à la Slumberland/Harriet Records, which, hey, kinda just validates both comparisons I just made!

The band just released their first 7" earlier this month on French label Born Bad, the label behind bands like Cheveu and the A-Frames.

Habibi's A-side kicks of with the easy-going jam "Sweetest Walk," a song that rides that fine line between drone and pop, Beat Happening style. It's less jarring and even more minimal and effortless than the Vivian Girls, which is impressive, considering that band once wrote a song called "No," where the only lyric was "no." Check the vid below:

The 7" wraps up with an eerie, Raincoats-y song called "Sunsets," backed by some killer harmonies and some nice AM-radio guitar production.

Two options now: you could order the 7" from France and pay big Euros and wait for that to get to your door, or you could just catch Habibi opening up for Detroit air conditioner vibers Tyvek (who are playing with their original line-up) this Friday at Death By Audio and buy it straight from them. How do you think this easy going crew would want it?

Bad Data Sleaze, the latest Viva-Radio program to populate your e-waves, is the brainchild of Detroit, MI resident and former Electric Six member, Chris Peters. Viva hasn't had a dedicated metal and rock show since the lovely Lady Starlight aka Lady Ga Ga's glam mentor left in 2010. We're excited Chris is taking the helm on some serious "Metal Health" overdrive.

“I want to do a show that deals with 80s hair metal stuff,” he said. “I want to do stuff like early LA Guns, Crue, Jetboy, Seduce, Faster Pussycat…not stuff like Slaughter and Warrant. I’d like to play the more obscure stuff, the stuff that I don’t hear ANYWHERE.”

Of course, we at Viva are on board with literally all of that.

Of course, only so long as we don’t hear too much about Pat’s Chili Dogs...O.K. Chris?

Chris’ first show – which aired just last Monday and is available to stream in the archive now – set the bar pretty high with a variety of tunes ranging from Little Richard to Ratt to The New York Dolls. A diverse set to be sure – one that presents not just the early hair stuff, but some of the older source material as well. With the unifying theme of getting us on our feet and possibly air-guitaring, we certainly aren’t complaining.



Welcome to the Viva-Radio family Chris Peters, you defender of the decadent you! As for you, listeners? You get your dose of Chris’ Power-Sleaze selections weekly. Listen to Bad Data Sleaze every Monday at 8pm and always on demand anytime.

We're kicking off a new piece here on the Viva Blog that sends some love to our wonderful contributors and features some of their latest playlists during the week. I know the Oscars were rough last night. Nobody needs to see that many plastic faces on a Sunday night.

Just relax already. It's a new day and one of our veteran DJ's Jill Bradshaw couldn't break it down any better with her new playlist entitled "Tides are Turning" Check out J'aime Musique every Monday at 2pm only on Viva Radio and always available on demand. Here's a little taste of her selections below!

The Castaways - Liar, Liar
The Sonics - Witch
The Spades - We Sell Soul
Galaxie 500 - Pride
Saucers - A Certain Kind of Shy
Ty Segall - Girlfriend
Mikal Cronin - Apathy
Thee Oh Sees - Enemy Destruct
Ganglians - Blood on the Sand.
Country Teasers - Secrets In Welsh
The Great Unwashed - Boat With No Ocean
The Moles - Wires
Spacemen 3 - Honey
Brian Eno - Mother Whale Eyeles
CAN - All Gates Open
The Stranglers - Peaches

Brooklyn's own Spanish Prisoners, the self-proclaimed auteurs of "tremolo-haze guitar symphonies," (and Viva Radio proclaimed "spunkier Cocteau Twins") play the Knitting Factory this Friday. We caught up with the band's keyboardist/vocalist Amberly Hungerford recently to talk about films, van porn, and of course, tremolo pedals.

VR: The band has a pretty cinematic sound and is named after a David Mamet film. Is this incidental, or does film have a big influence on your writing?

AH: At the end of the day both film and music are narratives about the connections people have with each other and how different yet similar everyone is. The way a film is shot can have a huge effect on how a story is told and on the viewer. Little things, like where a plant is placed in a room, or the color of a dress, can make a seemingly mundane scene beautiful. I think the little details are the biggest things we take a way from the films we love. It's definitely pushed us to make sure that every single aspect of a song is placed there for a reason and every sound is the right sound for the mood we're trying to create.

VR: Musically or otherwise, what are some of the band's influences?

AH: Oosh! That's always the hardest question to answer and would be completely different depending on which band member you ask. We each tried to do our top 5 albums of all time while we were drunk after a show once and the few overlaps I remember were Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Flaming Lips The Soft Bulletin, and Destroyer's Kaputt. Many others were mentioned and subsequently ridiculed and over analyzed, but those are a few that we all take something away from.

VR: What was the impetus behind recording the Smiths "Still Ill" cover? Any other plans to record another cover?

AH: Someone we know approached us with the idea of doing a Smiths compilation album that he wanted us to be a part of and we weren't really doing anything else at the time so we figured, "why not?" I think everyone goes through that phase where the Smiths sort of change your life for awhile and we're no exception, so it was fun to put our spin on something we're all so familiar with and love. No plans for new covers, but we're not ruling anything out. Personally, I keep trying to get someone to do a cover of J. Geils Band's "Centerfold" but no one takes me seriously. Very disappointing.

VR: A few of you used to write for Bushwickbk.com. What are a few of your favorite places in Bushwick? Any hidden secrets/lesser-known places in the neighborhood?

AH: There are so many new things popping up in Bushwick that it's almost hard to keep track– which is also what makes living in this neighborhood so exciting. I just recently went to Central Cafe; they had a solid sandwich menu, good coffee, and a super friendly staff (not to mention old People magazines which are my kryptonite). 280 Cafe and Lounge is another secret killer that most people walk by, but the owner is incredible, the food and drinks are great (and cheap) and there's a pool table in the back room. Can't ask for much more than that.

VR: The band currently has a Kickstarter page to help you guys get a touring van. Describe your dream van.

AH: Funny you should ask! I think we've all started looking at what I describe as "van porn" and salivating at all of these crazy vans with wild stallions air brushed on the side and shag carpeting, but if it runs and the doors lock I'm a happy camper.

VR: I read that the band plans to record a new song every day inside your new van. Where did this idea come from? Any expectations? Any plans for these songs?

AH: That's actually [frontman] Leo's brainchild. I didn't even know we were doing it until the day before we launched the Kickstarter campaign and I was just, "whoa, whoa whoa…that's a lot of pressure." But I actually think it's going to push us creatively and help us come up with some new things for our next album. I think we'll be just as surprised as all of our subscribers by what we come up with.

VR: What do you hope to accomplish as a band in the long run? AH: Bands always talk about being bigger and better and playing this festival or touring Europe or headlining XYZ, but generally I want to make something I'm proud of, and I want to have fun and I want other people to hear our music and love it as much as I do. So in that sense I'm pretty happy with where we are now and am excited to do that on a larger level and tour as much as possible this coming year.

VR: What's next for the band after the tour? Any new releases on the horizon?

AH: Yes! All of us are itching to get some new material out there and we have some new things percolating that are all in different stages of completion. Hopefully after our tour we'll be able to solidify everything and have a new album out by the end of the year.

Judging by the name of this band and their album, I was expecting some dirgy folk along the lines of Michael Gira, but instead I heard a band with a song called "Warm Moustache."

These guys (and gal) from Brooklyn go by the name of Old Monk, and together they play a fun and erudite style of indie rock. Their first full-length, Birds of Belize, was released in January by the California-based Eenie Meanie Records and packs a nice selection of energetic jams. The aforementioned "Warm Moustache" harkens back to Electr-O-Pura-era of Yo La Tengo and Pavement at their least lazy (frontman Josh Carrafa even sings the lyric "fight this generation"), while "Butter and Toast" gives nods to the Mike Kinsella's Cap'n Jazz days.

The band eschews lo-fidelity and opts for a nice clean production, which I think has to do with the fact that they're good musicians. Most of their songs tend to veer into that fun prog-pop-rock territory that Deerhoof is so fond of, but never veers into "Alright dudes, I know you can play eight time-signatures in half a minute" territory.

Check out "Warm Moustache" below, and if you live in New York, catch Old Monk every Wednesday at Cake Shop.

On Tuesday, February 7th, Toronto-based Bahamas slipped quietly into The Mercury Lounge off noisy Houston Street. The group – this specific eve’s incarnation featuring (of course) primary singer-songwriter and former Feist bandmate, Afie Jurvanen, alongside wonderful vocalists Carly Aikens and Felicity Williams – offered the audience, timid as we were, a refreshing and much-needed break from hectic LES, hectic Manhattan, hectic life. We felt it. Which is to say that Afie’s simple, quiet ideas couldn’t have been communicated more clearly.



After the show I met Afie at Remedy, a delightfully Seinfeldesque diner on the corner, in order to nervously sip on my glass of water; discuss Afie’s process; talk his musical muses; and celebrate the release of his new record Barchords, which is out now on Brushfire Records. Collected here are some of the more memorable moments of our hour together.



VR: I wanted to start by discussing your choice to be so simplistic and subtle with your songwriting – what do you see as the reason for that, especially now when musicians’ options are literally limitless?

AJ: Well, those limitless ideas, when it comes to playing an instruments – having a million guitar pedals, working on a computer, being able to manipulated the sounds and edit…That is fantastic, but it’s not inspiring to me. The opposite, creating limitations for myself allows me to accomplish more. I feel that there is a purity there, in trying to sing over that simple thing. Tonight, for example, we played just acoustic guitar and voice. It doesn’t get much simpler than that. I think when people hear acoustic guitar and voice, they have an idea of what that thing is going to sound like, but really, there is a million ways to approach that, you know, that presentation. You know, there is no shortage of bands out there with tons of guitars and pedals and stuff, and I think some bands put that stuff to real good use. I’ve just always just been involved with music that starts with the song.

VR: And that, in some ways, allows you to translate the song as you did tonight. The fundamental goodness of the song – in its form allows for that.

AJ: Yah, and that’s where they start. Then on records they can take on new forms. When I’m writing a song, it’s generally just me with an acoustic guitar, which isn’t this revolutionary writing technique.


Barchords

VR: But there’s a tradition to it.

AJ: Absolutely. I was reading some article about Bon Iver and how he was really embracing the computer, and using it to piece together parts. Obviously he puts it to good use. I just don’t have the patience for it. If I had to sit there all day, waiting on the engineer, I’d just go cross-eyed.

VR: This also changes the recording process – the switch from tape machines to computers, doesn’t it?

AJ: One thing about recording on a tape machine – everyone always talks about the sound, and it does have a very special sound to it – is that, if you fuck up you have time while the tape physically rewinds and the band kind of regroups, to think about how to approach the take differently. With the computer you don’t get that. It’s almost like this extra added pressure because the technology is so accessible – we can do a million takes. When you record on tape, you get the one take and that’s the take.

VR: It’s a different mindset entirely.

AJ: The equipment is influencing or dictating how that piece of art is being made. And, yah, for someone like me it just makes more sense to keep things in that [analog] world.

VR: So do you guys record exclusively on tape?

AJ: No, we use tape a lot. We mix everything to tape. I put strict limitations on the engineer – he probably has the same setup everyone has – just Pro Tools.

[The waiter approaches. Afie orders a tuna fish sandwich, a bowl of lentil soup and some peppermint tea.]



AJ: The only limitations I gave to the engineer I work with a lot is that…he has a lot of outboard gear, reverb that sits in the racks. And I kind of look at it like guitar pedals. And the guy with the guitar pedals, well, he paid for them; he lugged them to the gig. Of course he’s going to want to use them. A lot of times I’m just saying ‘No. Don’t turn that thing on. What’s it even for?’ So, just trying to limit yourself in some ways. The whole multiple takes thing – it’s a big one for me – I don’t subscribe to that idea. I’d rather just do it in the moment, and if it feels good in the moment…more often than not it kinds of ends up standing up.

VR: And you guys have your own space, right?

AJ: Well, my friend has all the equipment, and I have drums and guitars and stuff. So we basically just move it around. We moved it up to a friend’s house in the country, and that’s where I’ve done a lot of recording. It’s isolated. It’s away from Toronto, away from our friends and basically away from distraction.

VR: You get the work done.

AJ: We did the record in five or six days. I don’t think I’d be able to do that if I was in Toronto. If you can get everyone up there you can actually get a lot of work done.

VR: So what’s the songwriting process like for you?

AJ: I would say it generally starts with a lyric, and the lyric usually inspires a melody. Sometimes it’s the other way around…I just play guitar for a long time, so sometimes you get a little guitar thing cycling around and you try and be open to a lyric that might fit that thing. More often than not, it’s basically what you saw tonight: an acoustic guitar with no production, no processing. And it all begins and ends for the lyrics.

VR: Do you always write on the guitar?

AJ: I mean sometimes I write on the piano, but I don’t have a piano at home. I play the guitar everyday; it’s part of my routine. It’s part of my domestic life and it’s part of my work life. So, it’s just so comfortable. In some ways it’s too comfortable. But yah, I think that the songs always start somewhere very simple.

VR: And that seems to be a theme.

AJ: Absolutely. I feel that way about everything, not just music. Literature and food are the same way. It’s very easy to put in too many ingredients. You only need two or three. …And now I’m going to start slurping my soup.

[He does and Savage Garden’s “Truly, Madly, Deeply” begins to play.]

AJ: Sometimes on tour we try think of the most heinous song possible – the one that will just annoy everyone – and we sing it over and over. This is one of them…this one and that Sean Mullins song “Rockabye”.

[He sings it and laughs.]

VR: Who do you draw from as far as musicians go?

AJ: I mean have Willie Nelson and Neil Young who have kind of been timeless figures in my musical life. But more and more lately…there is just like a nice community of singers and songwriters coming out Toronto. Good friends of mine, and people I admire from a distance. Doug Paisley, a really good friend of mine has a couple amazing records. [Doug is a Viva Veteran! Watch his performance in studio performance from 2000 here!] We used to be roommates and good buds. And maybe it’s just because I’m so close to them like through osmosis. Over time those things kind of permeate. You realize like, whoa, your friend is heavy. My friend is making something really cool. Daniel Romano too, a country guy – just a great songwriter.

VR: Do you consider your audience when you write?

AJ: Not really. I mean, at the risk of just sounding totally arrogant, I would like to think that every one of my songs has something that other people might connect with. If you’re anyone that’s putting something out there to be consumed by others, there’s an element of vanity in that, um, and it’s not like evil or malicious or something. It’s just like: I made a record. Either I can be happy at that point, or you choose to share it with people. People start forming relationships with the songs. People begin to decipher the lyrics. But I don’t think about any of that stuff when writing or recording. I kind of equate it with just looking at a mirror that makes sense. Sometimes when you look at a mirror, it’s like a circus mirror. Where it’s like, “That’s not me. It’s not reflecting an image that is recognizable to me.” There are plenty of musical moments when the speaker is reflecting something that I won’t be able to stand next to twenty years from now. So you kind of just do it until you’re like, you know, “Yes.”

[We discuss Las Vegas, my hometown, and its music scene for a few minutes.]

VR: So the music scene in Toronto is good?

AJ: It’s great. It’s vibrant and always sort of self-propagating. There some bands that always stay together – I mean it’s hard to keep a band together. It’s hard to make one record, let alone two or three or five… Everyone always seems to be in two or three projects. So there are a lot of small labels where they make the CDs in the living room and the distribution isn’t really wider than Toronto. But nonetheless these are legitimate heavy bands that are making great music.

VR: How did you come to play with Feist?

AJ: Yes, that was just part of the community. I met Leslie in Toronto, and we played in different bands. My old band toured with her for her first record. Right around then things started happening for her, and over the course of the tour the bands kind of cross pollinated. Halfway through the tour I just playing her whole set with her. And it’s great. I really am in awe of her singing and her artistry. Her musicianship seems to be born from a place of real emotion. And that’s inspiring energy to be around. So after that I left, life went on. And she found me and played on her next record. Then I did that for a lot of years. It was great: one of the pleasures of my life. I’m proud to be a part of that music and call her a friend, and I feel lucky to be part of that community in Toronto.

VR: Tell me about “Lost in the Light”

[He takes a bite of the sandwich and admits to be really into it; on the radio “wailing sax crimes” are being committed.]

AJ: Well basically, I recorded the whole record and, um, I thought it was done. I was happy with it. And then I signed this American record deal, and they were all gung-ho and were going to put out the album really quickly. Weeks went on and they began discussing re-releasing my first record [Pink Strat]. So, you know, I was thrilled, but it was a little bittersweet because I had this new one in the can. But, in a way, it kind of worked out because it gave me some time to sit with the record and, yah “Lost in the Light” became an addition. Initially, I thought it was going to be a seed for the next record, but the more time that went on, I though, ‘No. It fits in with this record. It speaks to the rest of the record in a cool way. So why not?’ Basically, rereleasing the record [Pink Strat] bought me time to rethink Barchords.

VR: Do you see yourself playing with a larger group in the future?

AJ: Yah, I do think about that sometimes.

VR: It has its merits, obviously.

AJ: Yes, for sure. I mean, it’s not impossible, but it is difficult. Musicians require a lot to be satisfied, and I kind of push those boundaries with the people I play with because I ask them to do so little. And I’m constantly asking them to do less and less. Drummers don’t like being told to play quieter or play less. Yah, I’m the guy. I’m the lead singer that says just play kick and snare and hi-hat. Generally, as things grow, people have a hard time restraining themselves.

VR: And you possibly have to make compromises.

AJ: Absolutely.

[We share some parting words. Afie pays for his meal. We Exit – him for a hotel, me for the F train.]

BAHAMAS - Hockey Teeth from Mitch Fillion (southernsouls.ca) on Vimeo.

Live photos and interview by Chad Felix

Avant-pop songstress who studied with La Monte Young Natalie LeBrecht, a.k.a. Greenpot Bluepot, recently debuted the video for her new single "Melting Sword." LeBrecht enlisted the help of director Brett Milspaw on this one, and together they unleash some super Lynchian vibes. Check out the clip below, and if you dig what you hear, be sure to pick up GP's Ascend at the Dead End when it comes out on April 3.

Listening to Errors and I’m thinking of: an abandoned – …is it? – Temple and the idea of the epic and Neal Stephenson, that is, mythology in a digital world. I approach a Temple. Just inside it there’s a smooth, stone fountain. It looks in keeping with the expected antiquity we associate with Hellenic ruins or soon-to-be ruins. To my surprise, not only does it still contain water, it still flows as it did, I assume, when people inhabited this place regularly. I could run my hands through that clear water; and I could run my fingers over the tiny colored tiles that cover the shallow pool’s floor. But I don’t. Stepping back, I realize the tiles form a familiar yet unidentifiable icon.



Imagine: In order to record Have Some Faith in Magic, Errors set up in this fictional place. They bring their guitars, keyboards and samplers; these modern tools somehow fit here amidst all the columns and hammered-out stone men. Members of the band share their thoughts on the space’s architecture; they discuss the vast ceilings’ strange effect on the vocals and how the lyrics, over the course of their time here, have become indecipherable. They explore the temple’s various rooms and pathways, occasionally losing one another and fearing a Minotaur or a Medusa. No one else knows where this place is on the map. Is it even on the map? (I only stumbled upon it haphazardly in a dream.) But there is something we can be sure of. It exists. The record is the proof. If the location was disclosed it’d be an archeological find worthy of celebration. But, alas, Errors aren’t archeologists. Their interest is in a different kind of discovery and a different kind of revelation. Which is to say you need to hear it. The record eludes most everything but an epic, danceable dreamscape.

Back to the fountain: I’ve never even seen such clear, flowing water. Errors is swimming in it. It’s all over their face.



Have Some Faith in Magic is available now via Rock Action.

We are just tickled to delight your cupid fancy with a heartfelt playlist from John and Lizzie Pugh today on a special edition of Naked Fridays today at 3pm. It's the middle of the winter so treat yourself today with a fine playlist that will possibly inspire poetry, art, and perhaps a few sips of the bubbly with you and that special someone. Or just sprawl out on the couch and let the Pugh's pluck your heartstrings until they ring with vibrations of love. Thanks for that line John. Happy Valentines Day or not. We love you either or.

Dreamweaver/dream interpreter/dreamboat Dustin Wong stopped by the Viva Studios recently for Me + You Pt. 111 to hang out and shed some light on his newest album, Dreams Say, View, Create, Shadow Leads.

In the past, Wong has spent time burning down the fretboard with bands like Ponytail and Ecstatic Sunshine. His solo work finds him treading a similar yet completely unique territory, with Wong layering precise loops of riffs that are both techincally and emotionally arresting. He's like Erik Satie on adderall, or Dave Mustaine on MDMA (disclaimer: though Wong explains in the interview he no longer doses, listeners are encouraged to take whatever dose they find appropriate).

Over the course of the interview, Tedward talks to Dustin about the songwriting process, how he comes up with song titles (unfortunately, the mystery behind the song title "Abstract Horse Slow Motion" remains), his "Say Your Dream, Create a Sound" project, and the spiritual healing that dishwashing can provide.

Dustin was also nice enough to perform some live cuts from Dreams Say for us, including album closer "Diagonally Talking Echo," which you can watch below. Wong prefaces this song with a smirkingly low key "I guess I'll sing on this one." What resulted was five minutes of intense free-form vocals and borderline no-wave shredding. It knocked all of our socks off, except for Dustin's, who was already barefoot.

Check out the full interview today at Noon on Me + You on Viva Radio. Dustin Wong hosts his album release show on February 24 at Cantina Royal. Pick up the album, do some dishes, and space out.

Tonight, straight from the nation that brought you PJ Harvey, comes...DJ Harvey!

Thirty years in the DJ game, the master of long-form partying will be spinning all night long at Santos Party House (Santos Harvey House?), starting at 11 p.m. Disco and house fans, as well as other people who need no reason to dance, you probably don't want to miss this. $20 gets you in, which divvys up to about $4 per hour of dancing. Not too shabby.

Walsh, according to Walsh, is Brandon Biondo in 1983. The young artist has released three EPs under this moniker: Smoke Weed About It (September 2010); Karaoke (March 2011); and Don’t Want 2 Fall in Luv (September 2011), all for the Knoxville based digital label, Dracula Horse. Back 2 the High Life marks Biondo’s first endeavor into both the long-player format, as well as the physical release. The album is to be released as collaboration between Dracula Horse and AMDISCS both digitally and physically in a limited run of 100 cassettes.



When Back 2 the High Life faded in for the first time I was on the R train heading to work. There is nothing special about this fact; I usually spend the time reading, writing, listening to new records, or else some combination of the three. My personal commute is about forty-five minutes, just enough time to ingest most long players. There is nothing special about these facts. This day, a Tuesday, my head is down and bobbing a little bit. I’m smiling. Outside it’s overcast, a little foggy. Walsh in my ears, and I’m taking notes, both for this review and in general. I remember I knew I wanted to write about this LP, even before hearing it. Why? I wonder. But at that moment I was unsure where this initial feeling had come from. It can’t be said that I “know” the new record, not yet at least. But first listen and I’m bobbing on the subway, jotting away. “There’s something special about that Walsh,” I think to myself.



Opener “DUO – We Only Have 2 Night,” which features Dracula Horse fellow Arrete, sets Walsh down in a distinct locale, one that he’s inhabited before and one that he’ll continue to inhabit for the duration of the record. It’s an environment that, in our time, is probably most familiar to him, him and maybe Dam-Funk. Imagine: space cruiser on the moon, windows down, if that were scientifically advisable. The track’s opening instrumentation – an electric piano, light percussion, a kick, and some synthesizers – flies down from way up above, a high-speed video camera, to just inches from the floating rock’s surface. Side-chain compression and a plucky bass indicate high speeds but smooth sailing. This is a gentle Walsh, less menacing (though menacing is perhaps too violent a word) than much of his former material. It’s Walsh keeping his cool. (He never loses his cool.) It also introduces a slightly expanded pallet and an increased dynamic range. In welcoming us to 2012, as Walsh does formally with the track that follows, the artist implies a future – a future that, of course, recalls the past and is, of course, right now.

When did I first hear Walsh? I wonder – we leave the Union Street station



It was that one night in late 2010 – O.K., let me be honest: this “one night” was actually one of many such nights. I found myself unable to sleep and on Turntable.fm. I remember it was around 2 A.M. (PST). I was living in Las Vegas, Nevada, but most of the people in the room were on the East Coast. For them it was nearly five in the morning: these kids were no joke. Now, these late (or early, depending on your particular disposition) hours in my experience – especially these hours of weekend nights when all the well-adjusted kids are out doing whatever well-adjusted kids do – are the only hours worth spending on Turntable.fm, which is now, unfortunately, past this prime. I entered a room that was probably called something like “Lo-Fi/Haze/Good Shit” or “2nd Wave Bubble-Step”.

And the room was just alive: The Internet’s Fucking Finest Hour. People were playing Peaking Lights, James Ferraro, Oneohtrix Point Never (all of these float somewhat in the same nebulae as Walsh) and tons of shit I had never heard before. The conversation was lively. My headphones were turned up loud – much louder than they are now on this R train. I was jotting down names in a wild fever, bouncing between iTunes, Turntable.fm and Last.fm simultaneously. Then someone played Walsh. Someone put on what I still consider to be his best track (and the one that I will place on mix tapes forever): “Untitled” featuring Mat Cothran, from Smoke Weed About It. And for the next few months I worked out on an elliptical machine listening to that track.

We leave the Whitehall South Ferry station (I’m taking the long way to work).

Back 2 the High Life in my ears. I’m still bobbing and jotting. It’s been over a year since that night on a perfect Internet. (Was it only an oasis?) I’m above ground for the moment; it’s begun to rain. My occasion for listening critically is no longer so elliptical – by this I mean I’m writing about music now, instead of running in place to it (both literally and figuratively)...

It’s bold of Walsh to build an entire LP out of instrumentals, I think, especially given his minimal pallet. He’s worked with vocalists in the past before and with much success. (re: the aforementioned “Untitled" feat. Mat Cothran and the more recent “Bad Guy Anyway” by Will Carter, which Walsh produced.) Certainly vocals would be effective here for, if nothing else, they might establish a “single,” or, if we’re too cynical for such a term, maybe a centerpiece. Instead Walsh has opted for the high road, a one-man show. It’s a risky move, but Walsh does a relatively good job of keeping things interesting for the full forty-five. There are the driven, drum-based tracks, of course. These are the tracks we’ve come to expect from Walsh. Funky “Who Are U” and standout “Vibrations” are highlights of this time-tested mode of his. We get to dancing, rising and falling with the track. And then there are the more challenging, drone-influenced tracks. The unsettling “Chimborazo,” with its monotonous ride cymbal and short electric guitar loop, recalls the more morbid moments of Black Moth Super Rainbow’s excellent Dandelion Gum (were there any morbid moments there? I don’t recall). The haunted hallways of “Adam’s Theme,” on the other hand, omit the rhythm section entirely for synthesized cobwebs. “Outro/K20e” may be something else altogether. At over three times the album’s average track length, this epic (though epic, in the conventional sense, may be the wrong word) closer leaves the building. It doesn’t bother to shut the door and a chilly wind circulates the room. “Outro/K20e” is the high-speed camera retreating back to whatever sky it came from. The record ends up in ambient space: comfortable there and not flailing at all.



As an album Back 2 the High Life is impressive for its range within a relatively small framework. The revelations within its run time are modest, true, but greatly effective, especially with repeated listens – some of Walsh’s best moments are very subtle ones (see: the entrance of the guitar on “Vibrations”). Walsh doesn’t aim for cosmic catharsis, but he’s somewhere in that general atmosphere. For now, his ambitions are somewhat smaller, and wisely so.

I’ve made it to Union Square Station now. I’ve made it to work on time. There is nothing special about this fact. It’s still raining and across the platform water is running on the Q line; the station is wet and umbrellas abound. I pop out my own umbrella. My headphones are on, though nothing is playing. I step out into the storm. “There’s something special about that Walsh.”

Get Back 2 the High Life right now at Walsh's Bandcamp and name your price. Head over to AMDISCS in March to pick up the cassette.

And Hey! More Tracks: