THE DELI

You would not say that there is much of 2020 one should bring into the new year, but few exceptions exist, among them is the year-end single by L.A.’s The Dumes titled “Ok.” The new track is power rock at its best: reverb-soaked guitar solos, a trashing drum beat, and distorted bass-powered breakdowns led somewhere heavenly by the confident-elegant vocal delivery of front-woman Elodie Tomlinson. The title expresses something simple, but upon examination, and in the context of the year behind and the work ahead, lyrics like “Can you try to find your hand in mine/And you’ll be ok when you find a match in the dark” there is a depth so relatable. As we move forward, The Dumes invite us to rock on, with a head held high, shaking to a quaking beat. – René Cobar, photo by Emma Cole

DURING THESE TIMES when most of us are feeling more than a little disconnected, New Myths‘ “Bad Connection” hits some kind of sweet and sour spot. And while virus as metaphor does feel a little on the nose–alongside mentions of being “frozen in time” and “folded inside”–I can attest to the fact that although New Myths put out the song (just barely) post-pandemic it was written and performed well before any hint of what was to come existed. Anyways a slightly closer listen to the lyrics, and a viewing of the video, reveals the song to be more likely about the foibles of mass media and modern tools of communication and disturbed mental states. But what’s crucial on another level is how it throbs with a nervous energy and a forward momentum that’s sorely needed–I remember seeing them live a couple times in the beforetimes and when drummer Rosie Slater belted out her banshee wail on the song’s hook while still rocking out behind the kit it was pretty damn energizing–so consider this single a shot in the arm.

Because the people demand it: here in one convoluted, name-dropping sentence is how I’d sum up New Myths. Neon-hued both visually and sonically, this power trio’s combination of intense electro-rock sonics, pop savvy, punkish energy, glam theatricality, and occasional gothy moodiness is something like the lovechild of Shirley Manson and Marilyn Manson who’s now all grown up and going to her first orgy with a guest list that includes the Hanson brothers circa “MmmBop” and the full cast of the Josie and the Pussycats movie during which a DJ is slated to spin tracks by Republica, Elastica, and Veruca Saltica to set the proper mood. (If there’s any major label reps out there looking to hire a professional blurb writer just slide on into the Deli’s DMs and I’ll hit you back.)

Speaking of all things neon-hued, New Myths released their music video for “Bad Connection” last month and true to form it’s pure adrenaline. I mean, sure, maybe you’ll never get to see Christopher Nolan’s Tenet in a movie theater. But this video contains enough video-within-a-video high concept moolah shots in the span of five minutes to fully scratch your meta movie itch. In a clip directed by prolific music video director and underground filmmaker Dylan Mars Greenberg (her filmography includes 2016’s Werewolf Bitches from Outer Space starring Janeane Garofalo) the trio of Brit, Marina, and Rosie take on roles ranging from a ‘40s Andrew Sisters style singing group (makes sense given how they can rock those three-part harmonies) to an ‘80s Pat Benetar type band to a Beastie Boys "Alive" homage all in convincing and rapid fire form.

The vid also features a substantial cameo appearance from Tish and Snooky, the legendary sisters on the scene who were active in NYC glam and punk circles in the 1970s. Tish and Snooky aka the Bellomo Sisters took on backing vocal duties in a Blondie-adjacent band and co-formed their own group known as the Sic F*cks (standout track: “Chop Up Your Mother”) and right around the same time in ‘77 they opened the first punk rock fashion store in the country, on St. Mark’s Place, called Manic Panic. And if that name sounds familiar you’re not mistaken because out of the store came the Manic Panic assortment of hair dyes that blew up big time and helped turn many once-average local mall rats into insta punk rockers and new wavers (and goth-ers and ravers) in the ‘80s/‘90s/2000s which is what DIY is all about after all. Power to the Peroxided People.

So suffice to say, New Myths cover a lot of ground in their "Bad Connection" music video. Now if only they’d made some references to the Roaring Twenties and dressed up as flappers it’d be the complete package but I suppose it can wait until the next video. Just so happens I’ve got a side hustle as a music video consultant so maybe have your people call my people… (Jason Lee)

photo credit: Andrew Segreti

Jam (noun): a sweet, sticky edible substance made of fruit and sugar, boiled to a thick gelatinous consistency that’s yielding and spreadable

Jam (verb): to push, shove, squeeze or otherwise manipulate an object into a constrained space, often implied to be aggressively or even forcibly realized

Contained in this little three-letter word are at least six or seven distinct meanings according to this thing once referred to as a dictionary (it’s like a papery blog). And while we’re talking semiotics it’s interesting to note how the two definitions above are on opposite ends of the spectrum in some ways: yielding vs. forceful, sweet vs. aggressive. 

Another meaning of jam: “An extended, semi-unstructured musical passage, or entire musical work, in which synchronized, partially improvised interactions between musicians are of key importance–often with the objective of achieving a concentrated, intensified, and/or ecstatic state of perception among both musicians and listeners. The formal properties of the jam (aka “jammers”) tend to revolve around an optimal balance between repetition and variation; and on the macro level, a continuous ebbing and flowing in terms of tempo, dynamics, and/or texture before ultimately reaching a climactic release, with the notable exception of “mellow jams” or “droney jams” where such macro-level formal developments are de-emphasized or not sought at all.”

The long-running bands Woods are masters jammers (but not a “jam band,” you won’t find too many patchouli-besotted noodle dancers at their shows). And in their jamming they capture all the dictionary meanings of jam described above–playing music that’s alternately and sometimes at once both sweet and aggressive, ethereal and ferocious, disciplined and sprawling. 

Besides their proclivity for jamming Woods are master songwriters as well with a musical palette stretching from pastoral folk rock to driving alt-pop to resplendent psychedelic rock. If you need proof of any of this I’d recommend spending New Year’s Eve and Day listening to their eleven albums (the latest being Strange To Explain released earlier this year) plus the compilation released out in October called Reflections Vol. 1 (Bumble Bee Crown King) that brings together rare and unreleased recordings made between 2009 and 2013. One standout on the latter is an early demo of “Bend Beyond” that’s a good deal more jammy than the version on the Bent Beyond album (2012). And below you can hear how they stretched out the song even more when they played it live. 

Strange To Explain is a fitting epithet for the year that just passed, featuring songs that act as a gentle balm for dreamers (“Where Do You Go When You Dream?”) and insomniacs (“Just To Fall Asleep”) alike. Here is an album that puts the “vibey” back in vibraphone and the “mellow” back in Mellotron, both instruments featured heavily on the album.

The writing of Strange To Explain overlapped with the band’s Purple Mountains project, a collaboration with Silver Jews’ frontman David Berman. The reclusive songwriter and genius poet came out of a decade-long retirement from music to record the album with Woods. Sadly, after a life-long struggle with depression, Berman committed suicide in 2019 just weeks before a widely-anticipated Purple Mountains tour.

And so as we say good-bye and good riddance to 2020 let’s pay tribute to those we lost and those among us who feel lost. And give thanks for the transcendence granted by the music that we love–whatever it may be–more important than ever this past year. Personally I’ll be riding it out with “Weekend Wind,” the mellow jammer that closes Strange To Explain. (Jason Lee)

Imagine if a parallel-universe version of the band Television wrote songs about actual televisions with lines like “tell me all the things that you see in me / can it be explained through the TV? / cuz that’s all I know.” Now listen to “Ridden” and imagine no more.  

On Hypoluxo’s third album which is A) self-titled, B) self-possessed, C) self-reliant, or D) all of the above the Brooklyn-based quartet makes the kind of post-punk-inflected guitar-oriented music that critics love to refer to as “angular.” It’s a fitting description but let’s face it there’s lots of different kinds of angles. Any geometrist worth her weight in protractors will tell you there’s acute angles and right angles and obtuse angles just for starters. On Hypoluxo, Hypoluxo has all these angles covered and more.

For sharp-and-severe acute angles take a listen to “Night Life” with its martial drum beat, slithering bassline and twin-guitar sheer heart attack. The song’s ricocheting melodies (headphones recommended) capture something of the anticipation and the anxiety, the potential desperation and potential catharsis of its subject matter, culminating in a frenzied freakout on the dancefloor.

Next, for some obtuse angles check out “Shock” which confronts the vague but pervasive sense of fear hanging in the air as of late. “Well it’s a SHOCK / working up / to realizing this is not a DREAM” is the immaculately articulated opening gambit, going on to describe a mind stressed and dulled by 2020 PTSD. Guitars circle overhead for much of the song, like a flock of angry-but-one-hopes-not-predatory birds, with the fog finally broken by the Rent Is Too Damn High refrain in the song’s coda.

And finally, on “Nimbus” Hypoluxo gives the listener the right angle (heh heh) on how weathermen (and weatherladies let’s be fair) are the scourge of humanity or at least one of them anyway. And wouldn’t you know it, the 1% own all the umbrellas. Michael Stipe once posed the question: “Should we talk about the weather [or] should we talk about the government?” But Hypoluxo make it abundantly clear that they’re one and the same thing. So let’s talk about both and hope for better weather in 2021.
(Jason Lee)