The Vaselines ā Sex With an X ā āI Hate the 80sā
Videos by American Songwriter
With the slap of a tambourine and a breezy bass line and guitar from Bobby Kildea and Stevie Jackson (of Belle & Sebastian), The Vaselines are back, or at least the founding duo is. The voices of Eugene Kelly and Frances McKee, which long ago received a nod of approval from Kurt Cobain, seem to work together as one, with McKeeās soft pipes a sugary layer over Kellyās husky ones. āI hate the ā80s ācause the ā80s were shit,ā they sing brightly on the jangly, ā60s-influenced song that is at once an ode to indie rock of the present and a swift jab at a preceding decade and every glam-pop band and kitschy fad that went with it.
Elvis Costello ā National Ransom ā āI Lost Youā
Theatrical similes and metaphors load down the country twang and steady drum beat of an upbeat, warbling groove perfected by Costelloās repeated croons of āI lost you.ā This steel-laden single from National Ransom, the most recent addition to Costelloās already enormous discography, was co-written with Jim Lauderdale. Together they pen yet another infectious tune, though the lyrics are simplistic, through a web of comparisons to apparitions, rich men and poor women.
The Greenhornes – ā ā ā ā ā āSaying Goodbyeā
The title might seem indicative of a down-trodden, sentimental song, and itās true that it bears a certain nostalgia which could be due to the fact that āSaying Goodbyeā is chock-full of influence from decades past (mainly early ā70s rock) or that ā ā ā ā is The Greenhornesā first full-length LP in eight years (released with a performance at Nashvilleās Third Man Records October 30). Either way, after the first strike of a wiry chord and the wistful sigh of the chorus amidst a rolling, tumbling mess of drums, youāll be struck with a longing to hear it pouring from a record player.
Elf Power ā Elf Power ā āStranger in the Windowā
Delicate strumming and hollow percussive knocking open up a tide of beautiful lyrics both dreary and reassuring as they follow a relationship that stretches over 20, 50, then 80 years. His voice tinged with the sound of the south, Andrew Rieger sings, āIt might take 50 years to reach me/I guess it all depends on what you teach me/tell me your secret/if youād like to meet the freak inside my mindā in a winding ballad, one part lullaby, one part love song.
When an iconic ā90s indie rock band allows nearly 10 years to elapse before releasing another album, no one really knows what to expect. 15 seconds into āDigging for Something,ā Superchunk fans can let out a collective sigh of relief as the familiarity of Mac McCaughanās strangled vocals come through a grating guitar haze and the crash-and-pound percussion. Itās slow by Superchunk standards; it doesnāt progress at the warped speed of āPrecision Auto,ā for instance, but all the old vigor and zest is still there.