A place for music rants and recommendations. The faint of heart are welcome.
Welcome to the Sub-Mariner. You may be confused, but don't be afraid. We're just a handful of people with a lot to say about music. We're here to provide album reviews and other little pieces about the music, past or present, that we enjoy. The Sub-Mariner was created because sharing music is fun, but also because we're all busy people that don't get a lot of time to just chill out and revel in what reaches our ears on a day to day basis.
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I'm not reeeally a huge Arcade Fire fan these days, but their new album, Reflektor, was released today and I must say I'm pretty excited about it. I haven't listened to it enough to tell you anything meaningful about it, but so far it's been very dig-able. As a whole, the album has some ups and downs, but generally it stays enjoyable from beginning to end.
One song in particular, "Afterlife," was the clear standout on this album for me. As Win Butler dishes out a barrage of heartfelt lyrics-- "When love is gone, where does it go?"-- a driving beat and great backing vocals combine to create the most instantly accessible songs on the album. Now, if you ever really got into their debut album, Funeral, then maybe you remember "Haiti"-- one of Régine Chassagnes feature songs. "Haiti's" catchy acoustic guitar riff and tender vocals made for a pretty pleasant change of pace in Funeral and it was one of my favorites for awhile. When things began to wrap up with "Afterlife," I couldn't help but be amazed at what a clear progression this band has made over the years. "Afterlife" is a little more anthemic and the lyrical content takes a big shift from the narrative in "Haiti" but the songs are so strikingly similar. It feels like Arcade Fire dug up "Haiti," replaced the guitars with keyboards and layered on the production effects. It's clearly still the Arcade Fire that the indie world fell in love with oh so long ago, but I'd say they've gotten a little smarter and-- dare I say it-- a little older. But I think Arcade Fire has a long career ahead of them and so far they've aged brilliantly.
Here's "Afterlife" on the Colbert Report!
I can't wait to hear what people have to say about this album, and let me know if you like the song!
I said I would. It was not easy. Sorry in advance.
Miley Ray Cyrus. Yes, the beloved daughter of famed country
singer Billy Ray Cyrus. The adorable, innocent teen idol who starred on the
Disney Channel’s hit show Hannah Montana.
The cute and lovable singer of classic feel good hits such as “Party in the USA”
and emotional, tear-jerking ballads like "The Climb". Yes that is the Miley Cyrus we grew to love
and adore. However in 2013 we were
presented with a new Miley. Twerk Miley. With Twerk Miley came her latest album
BANGERZ. Unlike any of her previous works, Bangerz uses a mix of over produced
records and electronic beats to hide the true vocal talent of Ms. Cyrus. Miley
proves once and for all she is no longer that same innocent Disney Channel star
we once knew. However her attempts for an “edgy” and “hardcore” album frequently
fall short. She ends up creating an album that is hard to decide who Miley
really is. What is created is a Rihanna-meets-Gaga-meets-Pink-meets-Britney-meets
Taylor Swift-meets Ke$ha record. Throughout the album Miley speaks of love,
sex, and drugs. It truly is an album to hide from your kids. Yet despite all of
this, Miley still manages to create an album that is worth a listen, in thanks
to her strong performances on the songs “Wrecking Ball” and “We Can’t Stop”.
Through her clever, or just plain stupid, use of minimal
clothing, twerking, and ridiculous music videos Miley created a storm of controversy.
And in doing so, one of the most talked about albums of the year. So while Miley
remains a mystery, the one thing that cannot be denied is that the woman can sing.
I could also argue that this has been the most influential albums of the year. Just try and name another an album that has caused structural changes in the same way that Bangerz has. CLICK HERE.
Grand Valley Represent. YOU WIN THIS TIME MILEY
"You think I'm strange, bitch? / Shit's bananas like a
fuckin' 'rangutan, bitch” - Miley Cyrus.
So, Thomas and I saw Streetlight Manifesto in Chicago last night. Needless to say, it was fantastic. All those gorgeous horn parts felt so perfect live and the crowd was about as involved as it could be (funny how gang vocals do that to people). I've been to few shows that made me as happy as that one, and it got me thinking about how I could love a band so much that's so different from everything else I listen to. But I don't like genres. I don't know how to describe what my taste in music really is, so I never limit myself to what I let myself enjoy, and thankfully, that's probably how I got so big into Streetlight Manifesto.
Some bands become like parents in the way we listen to them religiously as we grow up, and Streetlight is one of those bands to me. Some of my favorite memories are of driving around Goshen in my beat up Jeep blaring Somewhere in the Between with my friends. It's funny to think about all of the things that have happened over the brief five years or so since I discovered this band, and it's funny to think about how much people change in that short a period of time. Anyone that has ever used the phrase "the soundtrack of my high school years" knows exactly how I feel, even if I'm not quite portraying it in the same way you would. But recommending a band that got me through high school is difficult, mostly because if I know you now, you're probably not in high school anymore and even if you are, their music might not be the same to you. That being said, Streetlight Manifesto's newest album is ridiculously good and I think anyone with just a little love for ska could spend a few beautiful weeks (at least) with it. I suggest you give Streetlight Manifesto's The Hands That Thieve a try and maybe make a few good memories with it.
Now you've read this far, and I'm afraid you've learned very, very little about the album I'm writing about. I would apologize, but I'm not really trying to describe the album to you. I'm afraid even a brief description of what Streetlight is all about would turn most casual listeners off, and that's terrifying to me. Please. Throw it on, and let yourself enjoy what you're listening to. It can seem overly bratty or angsty at times, but that's part of the fun. The horn parts might be a little overwhelming or silly sounding at times, but try to get used to it. I get chills consistently from the bari sax solo on "Toe to Toe," the little fugue thing and the chorus on "If Only For Memories," and pretty much every other song on the album if I'm in the right mood. Music doesn't have to be challenging or groundbreaking to be good, and I think a lot of people forget that. Appreciate all music, and you might get a little bit more out of your listening every now and then.
The title track- Enjoy! <3333
-Kane
PS: It might be worth mentioning that Streetlight Manifesto is currently boycotting themselves, so they would much rather you buy from them directly or pirate the album than contribute to Victory Records and their shenanigans. You can find all the details on their website, which I'll link below, specifically with the announcement of their boycott.
There is really something magical about music that tells a
story. I think it can be argued that all music
does just that and “Lighthouse” by The Hush Sound is no exception, however, the
song is quite literally a ghost story. This song is done almost entirely by the
very talented Greta Salpeter, the lead singer, piano/keyboardist and lyricist
for the band. The song begins as the narrator (Greta) sets the scene with a
seaside town in chaos about to be destroyed by a huge storm. She and her lover decide
to escape to an abandoned lighthouse, the only refuge. As the couple heads to
the lighthouse, the narrator tells her companion about the ghost who haunts the
lighthouse. The lyrics cleverly bounce back and forth between the present day
couple seeking refuge in the lighthouse, and the ghost’s life; a haunting waltz
keeping time under the soft sweetness of Greta’s voice. As the song progresses,
more about the ghost and her story is revealed, and the story ends with a
chilling conclusion.
This is
by far one of the more clever songs I’ve heard, the music and the words joining
together to create a creepy but enticing story. As an English
Lit major with a Music minor, it's a combination of my two favorite things and therefore one of my favorite songs. It’s also very much a testimony
to Greta’s talents as a musician; her voice and playing reflect the haunting
themes of this song, adding to the experience as a whole. It’s definitely worth
a listen.
As with all musical experiences
I’ll write about, I invite you to turn off (or silence) your phone. Close your
Facebook window. Hit play and close your eyes. Sit for a moment and shut away
everything but what you hear. It’s in these moments that we can reach inside of
ourselves and really tune in to what the music is saying, what it makes us feel
and what we’ll take away from it. If you only take just one thing away from
this post when you listen to the song, it should be that every piece of music has
something to say. You just have to be willing and open to feeling it.
Wow. Bath's Obisidian, released earlier this year, kind of took me by surprise when I first started listening to it about a week back. Every song is so textured and well-arranged, and surprisingly, the entire album manages to stay catchy and pleasing almost all the way through. It's the kind of music that you nod your head to and it's easy to let your mind drift when Obsidian starts up (I mean, come on; "Miasma Sky" even samples rain sounds). This is the kind of music that accompanies long, sentimental car ride montages in movies, I thought. But that was before I started to really listen to what lead singer Will Wiesenfeld was saying.
"Birth was like a fat black tongue, dripping tar and dung and dye slowly into my shivering eyes," sings Wiesenfeld-- ever so sweetly-- in the very first moments of Obsidian. "It was my parting lie and I'd wrapped it in all the bows. Lodged in the rectal wall of agony, Hell is our only home," he proclaims repeatedly on "No Past Lives." Okay, so this is definitely an Anticon artist. Sometimes, Wiesenfeld's lyrics are just flat-out... weird, and the way that these really abrasive lyrics are buried underneath layer upon layer of gorgeous sound is fantastic. It's also kind of disturbing, but not in a sense that makes the music any less enjoyable. Normally, this kind of lyricism runs the risk of sounding gimmicky, but in the case of Obsidian, it feels almost necessary. Baths took a risk with this album, and I think it paid off.
-Kane
PS. If you do happen to listen to this album, make sure you do it with headphones or a nice set of speakers at least once. There's a lot going on.
The Quartet for the End of Time, by
Oliver Massiaen, is arguably one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever written.
It is heartwrenching and, in my opinion, turns the feeling of heartbreak into
something tangible. Honestly, you’ll be hardpressed to find a piece with more
soul and raw emotion in it. Here’s a little background on this piece, which
explains a lot of the emotions it relays to the listener, from my own prior
knowledge with some dates provided by Massiaen’s Wiki. In 1940 (WWII), Massiaen
was imprisoned at Stalag VIII-A, a prisoner of war camp in
Poland. There, he met a violinist, a cellist and a clarinetist among his fellow
prisoners. He wrote a trio for them, which he eventually made into his Quatuor pour la fin du temps
("Quartet for the End of Time"). The Quartet was first performed in
January 1941 to an audience of prisoners and prison guards with Massiaen
playing on a poorly kept piano in freezing weather.
I guess what fascinates me the most
about this piece is the time period in which it was written. The fact that
Massiaen wrote this piece while struggling to survive in a torture camp not
only astounds me, but speaks volumes about the power of music. Music was just
as important to Massiaen’s survival as food and water. Music was something he
could not live without. By writing this piece, Massiaen gave hope not only to
his fellow musicians, but to the rest of the prisoners present as well. In the direst
of situations imaginable, there was still room for music, still room to create
and have beauty and hope. That, my
friends, is something we can all learn from this.
As with all musical experiences I’ll
write about, I invite you to turn off (or silence) your phone. Close your
Facebook window. Hit play and close your eyes. Shutting off the lights really
adds to the experience as well. Sit for a moment and shut away everything but
what you hear. It’s in these moments that we can reach inside of ourselves and
really tune in to what the music is saying, what it makes us feel and what we’ll
take away from it. When I first heard this piece, the room was dark and I had
my eyes closed. It moved me and touched me in a way that I’d never experienced
with music, and I think that having these almost religious experiences with
music is incredibly important; not only for the understanding of music, but
also for the exploration of the innermost self. If you only take just one thing
away from this post when you listen to the piece, it should be that every piece
of music, classical or not, has something to say. You just have to be willing
and open to feeling it.
Ah yes, the Happy Hippo. What a mystical creature. One so filled with tales of mortality and confusion, and yet, so optimistic. At first, the Happy Hippo is a little intimidating, but once you get to know him, you realize that you want to just live inside of it for awhile (probably kind of like this Time article about a man being eaten by a hippo). And I'm here to say this: Yes. Let the Happy Hippo devour you. You might end up with a few broken ribs and some internal bleeding, but in the end, you'll realize that the Hippo has loved you all along.
My metaphor might be a little over the top, but that's just how Cloud Cult's Advice from the Happy Hippopotamus is, and that might be why I love it. Actually, "over the top" might just be the best way to describe Cloud Cult as a band. They're the band with live painting on stage during their shows. They're the band that records on an organic farm run by geothermal heating. They're the band that makes an album with 25 tracks and hides three of them in long sets of silence. That album happens to be Advice from the Hippopotamus, an album that blends death and longing with optimism in a way that is... well... pretty amazing, in my honest opinion. And if there's a band qualified to write music like this, it's Cloud Cult.
On the surface, Hippopotamus is a collection of gritty indie rock songs with eccentric instrumentation and sappy lyrics. Underneath, it's pretty much the same, but with a slight variation on the second part, depending on the listener. If you can dig a good indie rock album, then you've probably become accustomed to the kind of quirky lyrics that weave in and out of this album. Having said that, comparing the lyricism on Advice from the Happy Hippopotamus to your average indie anthem would be a huge disservice to anyone that might read this.
Lead singer Craig Minowa adds a sense of grandiosity to the aspects of humanity that seem trivial or even negative. It's an exploration of mortality, from the years of your childhood to the moments of your death, or, possibly more accurately, the death of the people around you. But this exploration doesn't take place on the deathbed, it takes place in the bike rides and early loves of your childhood. "I have sailed through hurricanes with just a wooden plank and a smiley face," sings Minowa on "Clip-Clop," "and it took me somewhere that I don't know. And I'll not be stranded here this time, 'cause I've found escape is a state of mind." It's a reminder to appreciate love and a reminder to appreciate rejection. It's a lesson in enjoying life and a lesson in embracing tragedy.
I won't try to pretend that I know a thing about mortality, but at the very least I'd like to think that I learned something from this album.
