Listening • Catching Up With T-Pain

Almost exclusively, I listen to the song “Bartender” by T-Pain. When I moved back to Texas, my grandfather gave me his old car. It’s just turned 10 and in the two months I’ve had it, things are declining at a worrisome rate. A taillight jumped ship in the car wash. A speaker is threatening to blow. The tape deck has developed a bad case of hiss—so bad, in fact, that it’s not worth unstringing the cassette adapter so I can listen to my iPod. So I listen to a lot of radio, and the radio plays a lot of “Bartender” by T-Pain.

» Listen to “Bartender” by T-Pain featuring Akon


* * *

That voice modulator he’s using is more than nifty, it’s T-Pain’s bread and butter. Some see it as T-Pain’s beard. This audio nut, who “has no singing ability whatsoever,” built out a recording setup similar to T-Pain’s, and when he’s singing into the machine, his voice sounds just as sweet and buttery. About five minutes after he filmed this video, his living room was mobbed by strippers.


* * *

Everybody wants a piece of T-Pain. Britney Spears does. And so does Kanye West. T-Pain wrapped up his modulator in its velvet cozy and drove it over to Kanye’s studio to record “Good Life.”

» Listen to “Good Life (Feat. T-Pain)” by Kanye West


* * *

Everywhere you look these days, there’s T-Pain. Open up the closet and he’ll be in there, backing up R. Kelly. This spring the two teamed up on a remake of Bow Wow’s “I’m a Flirt.”

As long as they don’t tour any middle schools and Kelly gets his own bathroom, things should be golden. So to speak.

» Listen to “I’m A Flirt [Remix] [Feat T.I. And T-Pain]” by R. Kelly


* * *

If you had to pick only one T-Pain song to play during your wedding ceremony, it should be “Buy U A Drank.” For a song about getting drunk and having anonymous sex (actually, it’s only anonymous for him, since he starts off with a panty remover by introducing himself and listing his song credits), it’s a stunning, beautiful arrangement.

» Listen to “Buy U A Drank (Ft. Yung Joc) (Shawty Snappin’)”

 —Andrew Womack, Sep. 12, 2007

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Listening • The Haçienda Must Be Built

From “Formulary for a New Urbanism” by Ivan Chtcheglov (Internationale Situationniste, October 1953):

And you, forgotten, your memories ravaged by all the consternations of two hemispheres, stranded in the Red Cellars of Pali-Kao, without music and without geography, no longer setting out for the hacienda where the roots think of the child and where the wine is finished off with fables from an old almanac. Now that’s finished. You’ll never see the hacienda. It doesn’t exist.

The hacienda must be built.

Before—A Factory Documentary

During—A Media Expose

After—A Fan’s Pilgrimage

 —Andrew Womack, Aug. 15, 2007

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Watching • Video Digest: August 10, 2007

Not until somebody gets a drumstick through the throat, will drum aficionados cease debating who’s the superior stickman: Neal Peart or Phil Collins. But one argument is still unexplored: Is Peart’s favoring of do-rags an attempt to mimic Collins’s hairless pate? Doubtful, but drummers are unpredictable—as are the best drum solos.

Few in the television audience for this Stevie Wonder show might have expected him to take a drum solo mid-song. But the drummer for his band was ready, and dutifully stood behind Robot Stevie throughout the solo, operating the controls.




If there’s one thing anybody who’s ever been in a band knows, it’s that it’s hard to keep a good drummer. There’s a lot of demand, which can breed a lot of prima donnas. As you can see with this three-year-old prodigy, his attitude already stinks. Bravo.




As shown in this clip from a show in 1987, whatever Tommy Lee may lack in drumming ability, he more than makes up for in profanity and hydraulics. Considering the number of stimulants he appears to be on, it would not be surprising if this show actually took place in Cincinnati.




This 1970 video of Buddy Rich is evidence of what the world’s most truly gifted drummers are capable of. This solo hits the triple-point of drum perfection—unpredictable, taut, and passionate. That’s when listeners’ minds enter a simultaneous state of solid, liquid, and gas. The only thing that breaks us out of it is wondering if that sex tape of him and Ann-Margret will ever turn up.




The Carpenters’ 1976 television special may have made Lawrence Welk look like a comic mastermind—the glockenspiel is “German for ‘stinky’” joke is particularly fragrant—but it did feature a room-sized drum solo from Karen Carpenter, who leaps from kit to kit, hitting everything from a wood block to a concert tom. The cacophony tears open the space-time continuum—resulting in the appearance of two Karen Carpenters. Janet asks Chrissy to move out.




 —Andrew Womack, Aug. 10, 2007

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Listening • Mp3 Digest: July 25, 2007

Apparently Daft Punk is currently touring the U.S. with what some are calling “the best show they’ve been to in their ENTIRE LIFE.” (Emphasis Daft Punk nut.) Since just about the rest of the tour is sold out, however, your best chance to catch them may be in their feature film, Electroma, which debuted at Cannes last year and has been screened at some theaters in the U.S. More screenings are scheduled in the U.S., and include Seattle, Miami, New York and Dallas. (Please tell us if you know of more.) I have no idea if the movie’s any good, but from what I’ve heard about stunt work, I know you can never go wrong with a movie that has a man on fire.

Sorry—I mean a robot on fire.


» Listen to the unofficial Electroma soundtrack at BosBos.net


* * *

By now you’ve seen the new Wes Anderson trailer and decided he’s overrated like you always said or the genius you’ve always championed him to be. After all, it’s already lunchtime. And yes, there’s Owen Wilson and Jason Schwartzman and oh look, this time they have Adrien Brody. But what is that song? Is that song enough to turn my opinion of this movie?

Why, yes it is: It’s the Kinks.

» Listen to the Kinks’ “This Time Tomorrow” at Gorilla vs. Bear


* * *

Caribou’s “Melody Day” is the best song that’s been recorded by anyone in the history of the universe, and should almost certainly be included on the next Voyager Golden Record, although we shouldn’t be averse to destroying any alien hipsters that try and say they’ve got it on vinyl back home. That’s gold not vinyl you idiots.

» Listen to Caribou’s “She’s the One” at marathonpacks


* * *

Is there a jam of the summer yet? If that hasn’t been officially decided, I’d like to nominate The Tough Alliance’s “Silly Crimes.” It’s got some electro-Caribbean, which is of course very warm and summery. Also, they’re Swedish, which everyone knows is a lot of fun to be. Some of the lyrics are even laughs, for crying out loud. Or rather, for laughing out loud. LOL-jam of the summer right here. Let the sunshine in.

» Listen to the Tough Alliance’s “Silly Crimes” at Summer Lovers Unlimited

 —Andrew Womack, Jul. 25, 2007

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Listening • “This Ain’t No Fado Part II,” guest-edited by Philip Graham

Did you know the Portuguese Empire lasted from 1415 to 1999? I sure didn’t. I sure do miss the Portuguese Empire. Philip Graham will too, as his year abroad in Lisbon will soon be coming to an end. And of the many things he’ll need to declare at Customs, one of them will be how much he adores contemporary Portuguese music. Temporarily distracted, the agents will recover, and then open Philip’s luggage, where they will find 24 casks of contraband porto.

Now, here’s Philip Graham’s “This Ain’t No Fado, Part II.”

The first part of “This Ain’t No Fado” can be found here.


* * *

Sure, the fadista Amália Rodrigues has become a national icon, and newcomer Mariza has inherited her mantle and conquered much of Europe and beyond, yet fado, as emblematic and glorious as it may be, is not the only music being created in Portugal. One of the great pleasures of living in Lisbon this year has been discovering just how varied the Portuguese musical genius can be. With an empire that once ranged from Brazil to Africa, and from India to China [and until 1999, who knew?—ed], the Portuguese have for centuries retained an international outlook, and you can hear it in every sad and joyful note.

Remember: You heard O queStrada here first. Combining fado with the rhythms of Cape Verdean funáná, a touch of ska, and gypsy jazz, they’re a wild bust-up of a Portuguese band, and their song “If This Street Were Mine,” from their recently released first EP, is an instant classic. Singer Miranda fronts the acoustic fireworks with style, and Lima’s ringing Portuguese guitar simmers with Django Reinhardt’s spirit.

» Listen to “Se Esta Rua Fosse” by O queStrada


* * *

A founding member of Madredeus, Rodrigo Leão has gone on to make his own quirky and original music. Drawing on far-ranging musical traditions, he can write music that sounds like a strange church music framed by echoing guitars, while at other times he serves up the Platonic ideal of Cabaret. He works with musicians from around the world, including Beth Gibbons of Portishead, and his song “Rosa,” written with Ryuichi Sakamoto and sung by Brazilian Rossa Passos, glides like butter through your mind.

» Listen to “Rosa” by Rodrigo Leão


* * *

There are a lot of Portuguese “Novo Rock” bands out there that sing only in English, and while some of them are terrific (like Wraygun), without the contribution of their own language the result seems to me too much like musical ventriloquism. Jorge Cruz, looking a bit like a Sweet Baby James from another time and place, combines the rhythms and poetry of Portuguese with his appreciation of American folk and blues. Novo rockers take note: The blend works beautifully.

» Listen to “Nada” by Jorge Cruz


* * *

Though she’s third-generation Portuguese, Sara Tavares hasn’t forgotten her family’s roots in Cape Verde (the Africa island nation that had been a Portuguese colony since the middle of the 15th century). She’s an excellent songwriter with a voice of startling purity, and her delicate song “That Love,” from her latest album, Balancê, has the shivery, tip-toe feeling of first love’s fragility.

» Listen to “Ess Amor” by Sara Tavares


* * *

Right on the heels of winning the 2007 Carlos Paredes Prize for his Canções e Fugas, pianist Mário Laginha, one of the best-known jazz artists in Portugal, cooks here with a mind-reading trio. “The Walls That Surround Us,” like all the songs in his latest album, Espaço (a project commissioned by the Lisbon Architecture Triennial currently on display throughout the city), takes a concept about structure and design and gives it music’s emotional timing.

» Listen to “Paredes Que Nos Rodeiam” by Mário Laginha


* * *

Clã is the pride of the city of Porto, but even Lisboetas love this band. Besides the usual guitar/bass/drums lineup, Clã sports two keyboardists (anyone remember Procol Harum?). This is a rock band that isn’t afraid of an ambitious sound coupled with big subjects, especially in their latest studio work, Rosa Carne, and Manuela Azevedo fronts it all with a voice that seems to brim with untold stories.

» Listen to “Competência Para Amar” by Clã


* * *

My 12-year-old daughter assures me that every kid in Portugal can sing the chorus to Da Weasel’s “Dialects of Tenderness.” But I know a lot of adults who can too—this song from Portugal’s premier hip-hop group is as pervasive as the clear blue skies of Lisbon’s summer. In their latest album, Amor, Escárnio e Maldizer, the band branches out a bit, performing songs with the likes of the Czech National Symphonic Orchestra and Gato Fedorento (“Stinking Cat”), Portugal’s over-the-top comedy troupe.

» Listen to “Dialectos da Ternura” by Da Weasel


* * *

Discovering the music of a band that’s already broken up contains the bittersweet weight of mortality—each song, like a chocolate from a sampler, holds a little extra flavor, because you know that after you’re done there won’t be any more. Três Tristes Tigres flared and faded in the ‘90s, and their 2001 retrospective, Visita de Estudo, offers choice nuggets from those years. Every song’s smart lyric and sly melody is deepened by carefully constructed, ever shifting soundscapes. As for the voice of Ana Deus, is that speaking that sings, or singing that speaks? I’ll just have to listen again.

» Listen to “Espécie” by Três Tristes Tigres


* * *

There’s a recent trend of Portuguese singers putting out albums of Brazilian songs (or music inspired by Brazil), including Maria de Madeiros, J.P. Simões, and Teresa Salgueiro (of Madredeus). Pride of the pack, though, goes to Maria João, whose personality makes this music her own. A career as a jazz singer (often performing with Mário Laginha) serves her well in the song “The Silence of the Stars,” where the pleasures and passions of samba, jazz, and fado effortlessly exchange genetic material.

» Listen to “O Silêncio das Estrelas” by Maria João


* * *

OK, how many times am I going to name-check Madredeus without featuring one of their songs? “I Adore Lisbon” is from their latest album, and I couldn’t agree more with the song’s sentiments. It is, I have to admit, a minor song in the band’s canon, which means it’s merely incredibly beautiful—instead of incredibly, incredibly beautiful. Still, it’s one of the songs that will, long after I’ve returned home from this year in Lisbon, remind me why I’m so sad.

» Listen to “Adoro Lisboa” by Madredeus

 —Andrew Womack, Jul. 18, 2007

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Listening • Crepes vs. Enchiladas

As mentioned in last week’s features, “Sacrifice” and the first “Letter From Paris,” TMN chiefs Andrew Womack and Rosecrans Baldwin are currently traveling away from New York to their other loves, Austin and Paris, respectively.

As an exercise in sharing their new homes with each other—cities that the other one has never visited before, not even once, and only has vague ideas about—Baldwin and Womack each picked several songs they find reflective of their new towns, clichés and all. Below are why they picked them, and then each one’s responses to the other’s songs, picturing faraway places through sound.

(The Morning News, it should be noted, will continue to keep its headquarters, operations, and heart in New York, as will Womack and Baldwin, probably forever.)

Andrew on the songs he chose: I spent 25 years trying to get the hell out of Texas, and it took seven in New York before I yearned to go back. It’s this longing that’s probably to blame for my more recent appreciation of (gasp) country music, which was just bound to happen and I’m as surprised as you about that. I’m immensely proud of the state’s musical history, and the number of exciting Texan artists whose work has provided the soundtrack to all your favorite car commercials.

Rosecrans on the songs he chose: I was tempted to go with classics. The welcome song I heard when I arrived in Paris three weeks ago, in the airport near the taxi stand, was an old Yves Montand sawhorse, but only a few hours later, at a cafe near our apartment, they were playing a reggae cover of Radiohead as we walked in.

Given the blanket coverage around town of both Paris kitsch and Radio Nova, both seem like classics, so instead I went with songs that have played roles in trips I’ve taken to France in the last couple years, either because I discovered them there, or they were on the radio on the time, or they somehow just ended up in my iPod in time for the flight. But I did include a Serge Gainsbourg song, because it feels required, and anyway it’s a cover that’s very good for dancing.

The Thirteenth Floor Elevators, “Slip Inside This House”

Rosecrans: Having never been there, I picture Austin as a large university town like Chapel Hill or Ann Arbor but dryer, with zany pockets, and dot-com zillionaires, with more tacos, more hippies, but cowboy hippies, hippies that customize Dells with Mac stickers, hippies in punk pants, hippies who grind on the side, hippies who hate hippies. Do Austin people have bonfires? I’m listening to this song and seeing bonfires, a lot of bandannas—which could be as much circa 2006 as 1976.

» Listen to the Thirteenth Floor Elevators at the ill-ec-tro-nic

Bertrand Burgalat, “Ma Rencontre”

Andrew: This song has me smiling and bouncing my head. It’s in French, too—which means I don’t understand a word of it. Listening to it transports me into the future, to the first time I’ll try and order something at a Parisian boulangerie. There I am, grinning and nodding, comprehending nothing around me, eventually running out amidst a hail of thrown croissants.

» Listen to “Ma Rencontre” by Bertrand Burgalat

Merle Haggard & Willie Nelson, “Pancho and Lefty”

Rosecrans: Whole Foods started in Austin, right? But I bet it’s a better Whole Foods, a friendlier Whole Foods. I bet they have greeters, like in Wal-Mart. I bet this song plays from a speaker near the greeters’ podiums, and people refer to Willie as Willie and Merle as Merle, and there’s always someone in the store who went to Merlefest the year it started.

» Listen to Merle Haggard & Willie Nelson at the Presidential Award for Aural Fitness

Gonzales, “Paristocrats”

Andrew: Ah! My favorite song from one of my favorite, unexpected albums in the past couple of years. This piece is such a favorite, in fact, I didn’t even know its name, which is how good and evocative that album (Solo Piano) is—the songs are a grand movement, I’ve never thought to parse them. Right now I’m burning CDs for my drive to Austin, and I added Gonzales to the list just now.

» Listen to “Paristocrats” by Gonzales

Christopher Cross, “The Best That You Can Do (Arthur’s Theme)”

Rosecrans: I have no idea why this is an Austin song, I thought it was a New York song, obviously it’s about our leaving for the moment. (Actually, Cross is from Austin, which I know is weird; more importantly, though, I appreciate the sentiment. —AW) I love this song, I loved this movie; as a kid I had a strange fantasy of wanting to be a butler, which I associate with Dudley Moore. I’m sincerely really glad you’ve brought this song back into my life. That sax solo made my morning, I’m smiling as I write this.

» Listen to Christopher Cross at BadmintonStamps

Gonzales, Feist, and Dani, “Boomerang 2005 (Comme Un Boomerang)”

Andrew: We used to know a Russian kid who’d learned English from the skaters at the Astor Place cube. Rote repetition (mixed with kick-flips, one would imagine) had taught him to address everyone as “dude,” and to apply approval with varying generosity of the word “pimp” (“seriously pimped out,” “pimp-ass shit,” etc.). This song’s nonsensical repetition reminds me of those conversations. Not only are the lyrics inconsequential, but the central rap is totally pimped-out, dude.

» Listen to “Boomerang 2005” by Gonzales, Feist, and Dani

…And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead, “Mistakes and Regrets”

Rosecrans: This is the side of Austin I’m not so sure about visiting. The random drug violence, the Robert Stone side, the cartoon punks. I miss going to shows and going nuts. This song takes me back to when I first moved to New York. I am feeling inspired. Pause. I just threw a chair through the cafe window and knocked over an old man going by on his bicycle, maiming the little boy sitting on the back in gray flannel shorts, now I am eating his baguette.

» Listen to “Mistakes and Regrets” by …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead

Peter, Bjorn & John, “Paris 2004”

Andrew: Peter, Bjorn & John are ridiculously popular I know, and I love them as well, but do you ever think their name sounds kind of like a gay leather mag from the late ’60s? Sort of like: “See the tight situation Peter, Bjorn, and John find themselves in this month?” No? Well surely you can agree that as with sauces and wines, there’s no proof the French invented pornography, but they certainly perfected it.

» Listen to “Paris 2004” by Peter, Bjorn & John

Mike Jones, “Like What I Got”

Rosecrans: Andrew, please, if I call Mike Jones from Paris, do you know how much that costs?

» Listen to Mike Jones at Fluo Kids

Mathieu Boogaerts, “Super Nova”

Andrew: This is totally new to me and I totally love it. Whoever this guy is, whatever he’s doing right now is way cooler than anything I’m even considering. Is it because he’s in Paris? Well, it sure doesn’t hurt.

» Listen to “Super nova” by Mathieu Boogaerts

 —The Writers, Jun. 20, 2007

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Listening • Driving Me Backwards

Riding New York subways for so long, I long to drive cars again. I love the part in Raising Arizona when John Goodman’s convict character, behind the wheel and having just kidnapped Nathan Jr., turns to his little brother and says, “I loooove to drive,” to which his brother says, “You sure said something there, partner.” In fact, I say it just about every time I get into a car, and I’m sure my passengers hate it.

Here’s video evidence—of the scene from Raising Arizona, not my impression of it. This clip is right after the part I’m talking about, but fans of the movie (which I’m guessing includes every one of you) know the entire scene.




* * *

I have wondered if, like LCD Soundsystem’s song recorded specifically for Nike’s iPod running program, somebody might release music designed specifically for driving. Because driving can’t really be done to the music from a Volkswagen commercial—real driving is a little more like a Nissan commercial, but with the acoustics of a Lexus commercial. Driving is, apparently, a lot like working at an advertising firm. If there were to be a perfect song that feels like driving—at least long, wide, open highway driving—it’s anything by Swervedriver.

» Listen to Swervedriver’s “Never Lose That Feeling” at Milk Milk Lemonade


* * *

One evening I was driving alone on an empty highway, on my way home to visit my father. It was dark, I was doing about 50, there weren’t many streetlights, and as soon as I saw the parked car’s taillights we crashed headfirst. The front of my car, a 1987 Toyota Camry, crushed into itself, the steering column seemed to bend, and the engine sputtered to stay alive. Thankfully, the other car was empty and I was unhurt. I was able to drive to a pay phone and call my dad, who came out to find me and drive me back to the scene of the accident, where we found two guys in trucker caps, one of them carrying a gas can, and both of whom had very stunned looks on their faces. My car, surprisingly, wasn’t totaled in the wreck. (Their early ‘70s Charger came out with only minor scratching on the rear bumper.) The car finally died when, five years later, the hood latch—still a little shaky from its head-on collision—finally gave way while speeding down the highway, flung upwards and back, breaking my windshield onto my lap.

» Listen to the Beastie Boys’ “Sabotage” at Pretentious Prattle


* * *

The summer after the Camry emerged from the body shop, practically as good as new, my father and I took it on a road trip from Texas to California. On the way we stopped at the Grand Canyon. To get to the Canyon from Interstate 10, you took a small road north from Flagstaff, about 45 minutes. After the blare of I-10, it was a peaceful calm, a break from only trying to get from here to there, and felt like a side-trip in every sense. That little road cuts through patches of birch, slowly dipping across a plain dotted with little wooden houses, before rising to meet the lip of the Canyon. On that trip my dad and I often mentioned how good the car had performed, about how “it’s always been a good car.” And now my wife laughs at me when I look at used but newish Camrys online and say, “You know, these are really, really great cars.”

» Listen to The Red House Painters’ “Cabezon” at Motel de Moka

 —Andrew Womack, May. 23, 2007

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Listening • “This Ain’t No Fado,” guest-edited by Philip Graham

My roommate my first year of college had spent the preceding summer traveling across Europe and buying albums by artists who never had a hope of getting distribution in the U.S. Was this invisible blockade yet another example of American cultural imperialism? Of the closed-mindedness of Western audiences? Yes, he insisted, rubbing away the remains of an unfiltered beer from his wispy new moustache.

He and I had gone to high school together. We grew up in the same suburb. And here, three months after graduation, he’d discovered his inner bohemian, broken the chains of consumerism, and read books in their original German.

You’re just a dollar sign, a pawn of the U.S. industrial complex. I’m going to the movies, I said, and then he stood up to reveal another souvenir from his summer abroad: nudism. I suppose you’ve got a problem with the human body, too?

Recently Philip Graham has been sending me CDs of some of the music he’s discovered while living in Portugal—music you’ll never hear in the U.S., he told me. Given my previous experience, my plan, naturally, was to move out of the city and never respond to his emails. But here he’d burned these CDs, sent them all this way, and even printed up cover art and track listings. Well, he either did that or Portuguese record labels have a long way to go in packaging. And so I listened, and I liked what I heard, and I approved a “world culture” day here at the Mp3 Digest. There’s salsa in the break room.

And now I’m going to turn the floor over to Philip, who’d be wise to keep his calças on while he’s visiting.


* * *

Hey, I love fado, from the queen of this mournful music, Amália Rodrigues, to newcomer Mariza; and Madredeus, a band that offers a transcendent chamber music version of the style, gives me goosebumps. But living in Lisbon this year, I’ve discovered there’s more to this country’s music than fado. Rock, jazz, folk, and every sort of mixture flourish here with a distinctively Portuguese twist, and it’s all worthy of a ton of ears outside of the country’s borders.

There’s a grand tradition of rock ‘n’ roll in Portugal going back decades, with bands like Heróis do Mar, Xutos e Pontapés, and Grupo Novo Rock. But my favorite of the bunch is Rádio Macau, who kicked out a series of anthemic New Wave hits in the late ‘80s, took a break in the ‘90s, and then returned with a roar. Their latest, Acordar, sounds like a folk rock album that could have been produced by Brian Eno, with eerie, ambient strings, and their masterpiece, Onde o Tempo Faz a Curva, crackles with electronic zizz. Lead singer Xana gets under your skin—her voice is like Brian Ferry’s after his sex change.

» Listen to “Era Uma Vez (E Não Sei Mais)” by Rádio Macau


* * *

Change of pace. Jazz saxophonist Carlos Martins, in Do Outro Lado, offers a symphonic jazz suite, incorporating musical influences from the former Portuguese colonies of Brazil and Cape Verde. The jazz quartet swings, Martins’s orchestral arrangements are subtle and assured, and the Cape Verdean guest singer for “Destino Maior: Amar,” Mayra Andrade, has a perfectly sad and slinky voice; when she improvises wordlessly around Martins’s sax solo near the end of the song, you just might melt into a grateful puddle.

» Listen to “Destino Maior: Amar” by Carlos Martins


* * *

What can you say about a folk music CD whose cover sleeve is made out of cork? A left-field approach to deep, deep Portuguese country roots, and ferociously so, because Dazkarieh rocks. And they do it with a lead instrument from Sweden, of all places—the Nyckelharpa, a multi-stringed instrument that’s a demented cross between a violin and a sitar. Played by Vasco Ribeiro Casais, at times he sneaks into Jimi Hendrix territory.

» Listen to “Senhora da Azenha” by Dazkarieh


* * *

Dead Combo is a doleful duo: twangy guitar and stand-up bass, drenched in the implied menace of spaghetti western stylings that’s run through a cheesecloth of saudade—Portugal’s untranslatable word for the varieties of mournful nostalgia. Plus a twist of humor: They perform in public with their heads down or averted, as if afraid to face the living. Though they’ll add an accordion, organ, or a kazoo to the mix, the song “Aquele Beijo Eterno” is bare-bones, and its delicate, halting melody can break your heart.

» Listen to “Aquele Beijo Eterno” by Dead Combo


* * *

Almost none of my friends in Lisbon know of Frei Fado d’el Rei, probably because the band is from the rival city of Porto. That’s Lisbon’s loss, because the group is one of the country’s best—they specialize in adding their own music to medieval poems, and come up with a blend that’s very old and very contemporary. With guitars, harp, keyboards, two female singers, and excellent songwriting, they cast a gentle spell.

» Listen to “A Dita Senhora” by Frei Fado d’el Rei


* * *

Of course Portuguese teenagers listen to music too: gobs of American and British stuff, while local bands like the pop-rockish 4Taste and hip-hopish Da Weasel are also popular. So is Danae, a recent immigrant who is typical of Portugal’s new multicultural face—she’s the daughter of Cuban and Cape Verdean parents. “Tudo o Que Você Quiser” has a beast of a guitar hook, a bit of Brazilian lilt, and how can you dislike a song that begins “I ordered Coca-Cola and pizza for both of us?”

» Listen to “Tudo o Que Você Quiser” by Danae


* * *

Classically trained João Paulo is a champion of improvisatory piano solos in concert, and he’s worked with the fadista Maria Ana Bobone, and the master of the Portuguese guitar Ricardo Rocha. “Mi Alma” is an aching, hushed piano reworking of a theme from the Portuguese-Jewish musical tradition.

» Listen to “Mi Alma” by João Paulo


* * *

José Peixoto, one of the two guitarists of the majestic band Madredeus, seems to spin off solo and collaborative projects every other week. This one with the vocalist Filipa Pais is a beauty. Much-in-demand lyricist João Monge supplies the words to Peixoto’s music, and the sultry-voiced Pais runs with it. The wiry Ebow guitar work almost becomes a second singer on “Já Não Creio em Nada.”

» Listen to “Já Não Creio em Nada” by Filipa Pais & José Peixoto


* * *

These ‘50s-style small combo jazz arrangements of songs that were popular around the time of Portugal’s 1974 revolution (which bloodlessly deposed the 50-year-long fascist dictatorship) practically beg for cigarette smoke, a glass of Scotch (or better yet, Port wine), and the lights down low, way low. Paula Oliveira’s voice was born for this music, and Bernardo Moreira’s arrangements have the good sense to shape the cool atmosphere and then get the hell out of the way.

» Listen to “No Teu Poema” by Paula Oliveira & Bernardo Moreira


* * *

OK, let’s get back to some rough stuff. While Rádio Macau was taking a nap through a chunk of the ‘90s, lead singer Xana released a couple of solo albums, and her most recent, Manual de Sobrevivência, blows the lid off the house. Stark, personal lyrics and chalkboard scratching guitars do the trick in “Lembro-Me Agora.” A defiantly melancholy spirit of saudade reigns over the entire CD, as it does, now that I think of it, through much of Portugal’s music, whatever the surface style.

» Listen to “Lembro-Me Agora” by Xana

 —Andrew Womack, May. 9, 2007

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Listening • Our Quarterly Review

The book’s closed on the first three months of 2007, which makes now as good a time as any to take stock of the quarter that’s just ended. Here are our favorite tracks from the year thus far.


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Rosecrans Baldwin

“Fake Empire” by the National
The digital revolution has turned me into a single buyer, but I’ve really enjoyed this entire album. A single song doesn’t do it justice, not the way an afternoon does.
» Listen to “Fake Empire” at Minneapolis Fucking Rocks


“Rich Girls” by the Virgins
Lots of Brooklyn sounds like this. Want to eat this. Put the tiger pants on. This is sidewalk music for the moment in the same way “Chicken Noodle Soup” was sidewalk music last summer (though probably for different people).
» Listen to “Rich Girls” at Red Blondehead


“Fluorescent Adolescent” by the Arctic Monkeys
How long have these guys been playing together? It sounds like they were born in the same room. The Arctic Monkeys carbon-date a big portion of my brain at permanently 21.
» Listen to “Fluorescent Adolescent” at Your Head’s Not Right


“Valerie” by Mark Ronson featuring Amy Winehouse
Loved the original by the Zutons, love this even more. Winehouse skins it. You can hear another take on the song, jazzier and apparently the way Winehouse plays it live, on Ronson’s East Village Radio show two or three weeks back.
» Listen to “Valerie” at Pop Tart



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Llewellyn Hinkes

“Saltwater” by Beach House
I recently saw the lead singer of a popular band stop in a song, mid-mope, to berate the sound guy. “Oh mommy, you never loved me…HEY I said no effects on the vocals!” I won’t say the name, but suffice it to say his music has lost all suspension of emotional disbelief. Live shows are good lie detectors like that. Beach House, on the other hand, were more like an amplifier than a lie detector live.
» Listen to “Saltwater” at SixEyes


“Some Summers They Drop Like Flys” by the Dirty Three
How did Explosions in the Sky and Godspeed You Black Emperor get so popular while the Dirty Three got left behind? It’s the same sombre-to-epic rising cauldron of sound with a different style. Though they didn’t exactly get left behind, they still deserve better. Please, this summer, won’t you think of the Australian instrumental post-rock bands and give to the charity of your choice?
» Listen to “Some Summers They Drop Like Flys”


The Generation Exploitation Podcast
Comedy is such a fluid thing. There are no absolutes. Except for Moms Maybelle, who is the agreed-upon queen. She tells some raspy stories about spiders getting high and then a lounge tune and then repeat. She makes it look like an exact science. And the only way I could have found out about her is via the Generation Exploitation Podcast. Fine comedy content in there.
» Subscribe to the Generation Exploitation Podcast


“Drei Zinnen” by Niobe
It’s about time somebody started bringing some Glenn Miller into the modern experimental day. It needs to be recognized for the surreal, drowsy jazz orchestration that it is. Niobe loses a bit of the ’50s terroir in the process, and replaces it with the abstract soundscape.
» Listen to “Drei Zinnen”



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Andrew Womack

“Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse” by Of Montreal
I have reversed my position on Of Montreal. I love the new album, and I also love the Outback Steakhouse commercial. I believe Of Montreal, with five-plus mouths to feed in one tour bus, can appreciate what a value-dining establishment like Outback can offer budget-minded musicians on the go.
» Listen to “Heimdalsgate Like a Promethean Curse” at SixEyes


“Kid Gloves” by Voxtrot
In what has been the fastest backlash in the history of the record industry, the public has reacted lukewarmly to Voxtrot’s debut album—which won’t even see official release for another six weeks. For those of you who haven’t heard the album yet, that’s like going to the ultrasound to find out you’re having a Republican.
» Listen to “Kid Gloves” at Baby, You Got a Stew Goin’!


“The Nights After Fiction” by Mice Parade
The Beatles kept Ringo in the back, so ever since drummers in pop bands have been relegated to the same spot? Led by head mouse and percussionist Adam Pierce, Mice Parade turns the melody-rhythm pop formula on its head. This song shows what happens when percussion takes center stage and everything else turns into a rhythm synthesizer, rhythm vocal, or rhythm guitar.
» Listen to “The Nights After Fiction” at Herohill


“Pick Me Up on Your Way Down” by Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard & Ray Price
Last month I saw this trio of country legends play Radio City Music Hall—if you were walking up Sixth Ave. that night you may have noticed all the tractors parked out front. Price and his 81-year-old vocal cords warmed up a crowd that was getting pissed (and drunk) with every moment passing between them and “Pancho and Lefty.” But during the show’s finale, when all three were on stage, Price’s lead on “Crazy” left everybody wondering who that guy with the bandana was. (Roadie, maybe?)
» Listen to “Pick Me Up on Your Way Down” at In House With Jeremy Petersen


 —The Writers, Apr. 11, 2007

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