Record #229: Built To Spill – Keep It Like A Secret (1998)

As a snot nosed fourteen year old, I had a discman with the Ataris’ End is Forever album set to “repeat all.”

On this album was the song “Mixtape,” which featured the lyric, “there was Jawbreaker and Armchair Martian / Built to Spill and the Descendants.” Amazing as it may seem, through my years of trolling through CDs thank you notes to find new bands, this litany somehow escaped me until recently.

Hipster music junkie that I am, I somehow didn’t listen to Built to Spill until just this summer (and I still haven’t spent much time with Jawbreaker).

And the loss was all mine.

Years I have wasted, unaware of some of the most blissful guitar rock ever churned out by three human beings with recording equipment. Decades spent deaf to the sweet melodies of “Carry the Zero,” the max-capacity riffs of “The Plan,” the gentle softness of “Else,” the classic rock homage that is “You Were Right.” Years of my life spent depriving myself of the biggest guitars and sing alongiest pop songs 90s indie rock had to offer.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to send a note saying “BUILT TO SPILL” back in time to 9th grade me.

Record #227: Foals – Holy Fires (2013)

You would be forgiven for dismissing Foals if your only exposure to this album is the single My Number. It’s fun, catchy, and not too terribly distinct from any of the other dancy post-punk revival tracks to be released in the past ten years from Bloc Party, Two Door Cinema Club, Phoenix and the rest of their ilk. Palm muted guitar lines play against ragged start-stop chord hits over a tight snare beat and background “woo-oo-oo”s. Although there are some nice atsmopherics on the lead guitar in certain sections.

Nice single, but the rest of the album probably isn’t much to write home about.

“Not so!” says Bad Habit, the second single, which trades club-calling and dance beats for spiritual introspection and pleas for forgiveness. Continue reading

Record #226: James Taylor – …and the Original Flying Machine (1966, 1971)

Before James Taylor found widespread success with 1970’s Sweet Baby James (one of my favorite singer-songwriter albums ever), he was in a struggling band called The Flying Machine. The Flying Machine recorded seven songs in 1967, which they felt was only demo quality. Night Owl and Brighten Your Night with My Day were released as a double-sided single, which failed to gain traction, and they decided not to pursue a full length album. However, when Taylor’s breakthrough created the demand for it, Euphoria Records released the sessions as a quick cash in on his sudden popularity (to the chagrin of the other band members, who saw it for the cashgrab it was).

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