THE DELI

Ellen Kempner and Palehound require no more than a minute and forty seconds to take the listener on a ride through languorous bliss and lingering despair on Palehound’s new song out today called “How Long.” Opening with a salutary cough and a strummed guitar like a train rolling round the bend, the first stanza veers between reveries of a marble sky and “three months of cops and blacktops” and taking cover from a sudden hailstorm. Over its brief duration of plucky major-key banjo and toy keyboard stair-step melodies like “a watersnake slicing the skin of the lake” the song ends on an unsettled and unsettling note bent out of tune: “how long ‘til the sweetness melts / how long ‘til there rings a bell / how long ‘til there rings a bell / how long ‘til there rings a bell / that signals us returned from hell.” 

As guitarist and singer and bandleader of Palehound over the course of three albums and a clutch of singles–including the Elliott Smith cover above on last year’s reissue of his 1995 eponymous album–Kempner has proved her mastery of fusing sweet and sour emotional hues to deeply-felt memorable effect–especially well suited to the current state of inertia for sure–whether addressing episodes of physical abuse, body image issues, buying dry pet food, lending support to a gender-transitioning friend, identifying with selfish girls named after drugs, or getting shitty tattoos. However serious or frivolous the subject Kempner infuses her words with a warmth-radiating humanity owing in no small part to the grain of her voice orbiting between near-collapse faltering and rock-steady empathy and resolve.

Plus she shreds on guitar. Witness the instructional lesson below for a song off Palehouse’s first album ably supported by feline companion. (Jason Lee)

“Skin. It’s like skin. I’m like an animal.” — Marianne Faithfull

“I love you and your toys. Motorcycle boy.” — L.A. Witch

If your weekend’s been missing a certain something so far you are strongly advised to drop everything now and witness the music video released mere days ago by L.A. Witch which is really something to see if you haven’t seen it already (dir: Ambar Navarro). It’s called “Motorcycle Boy” and it’ll appeal in particular to fans of Motorcycle Boy(s) but also equally to fans of Motorcycle Girls and to other assorted Wild Ones and Easy Riders, Dead Man Curve-sters and Leader of the Pack-sters, Gum Snapping Pinky & Leather Tuscadero Type Hipsters and Finger Snapping and Swaying Shangri-La Girl Gang Sisters and Marlon Brando Leather Daddy Hat Wearing Kinksters Especially When Accessorized By A Leather Bikini Top That The Wild One Could’ve Never Pulled Off Himself Even In His Prime Years-sters. 

But in truth all that’s required to "dig it" is a love of neuvo-retro rock ‘n’ roll tunes with enough sexy menace to spare to getcha motors runnin’ even on a sunday.

As a considerable bonus the video opens with a homage to the opening credit sequence of Girl On A Motorcycle which is pretty dang obscure to your average punter today but this blogger happens to know the movie and happens to be quite excited by the homage because years ago said blogger (that being me) came across a VHS tape at a Blockbuster fire sale and there it was in the big bin o’ tapes with “Girl On A Motorcycle” on the label but without the original packaging and even though I had no idea what the heck the movie was or even who was in it, the title alone was enough for me, so imagine my pleasant surprise after laying down a few bucks and taking it home and it turns out to be an erotic pseudo-philosophic mind-tripping psychedelic exploitation-cum-art-film from 1968 starring Marianne Faithfull where in the film’s opening moments she wakes from a disturbingly freaky dream and walks over to her closet with nothing but her birthday suit on and pulls out a head-to-toe black leather catsuit and shimmies right into it and leaves her boyfriend behind still asleep in bed and goes outside and climbs onto her motorcycle and rides off into the distance for further adventures that comprise the rest of the movie but not before thinking the following line in voiceover as regards the leather catsuit: “Skin. It’s like skin. I’m like an animal.” (Jason Lee)

Blood Cultures is a headtrip whether you’re talking about their music or their music videos and “Keeps Bringing Me Back” is no exception. The song’s electro pulses are APA-approved hypnosis fodder in combination with the raspy flute loop and intensifying beat and introspective vocals and climactic finale and all the other little sonic details apparent on subsequent replays.

Speaking of hypnotic, the music video which features actor and activist Dimitri J. Moïse (pictured above) depicts a Freudian psychotherapy session complete with pocketwatch-induced hypnosis gone horribly wrong or horribly right or possibly both. And then there’s a nice little homage in there too to “Karma Police” as a bonus. If you dig this vid you may also wanna check out their videos for previous singles “Dunk On Me,” “Hard To Explain,” and “Broadcasting”—plus the “Operators Are Standing By” apocalyptic informercial series to fully delve into the heart of darkness of late night channel surfing—which are all equally thought-provoking or thought-revoking depending on where your head’s at man.

Finally, when it comes to the thematics of the song and the video for “Keeps Bringing Me Back,” you’re encouraged to check out Blood Cultures’ official Book of Face page for a thoughtful statement on the artistic and personal reasons for keeping his/their identity shrouded up until now (plus some very cool maskwear featured on their photo feed) and for deliberate self-revelation at this point in time as a proactive political gesture, which revolves in part around the challenging realities of being a Pakistani-American coming of age in a post-9/11 America and of being a rational adult in an age of white nationalist reactionary revolution, but with the opportunity to be agent of change. (Jason Lee)