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tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:/rss/departments/music SPLICETODAY.com 2017-07-24T18:35:24Z tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21973 2017-07-24T14:21:00-04:00 2017-07-24T14:35:24-04:00 Jen Cloher - "Regional Echo" Official Video tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21954 2017-07-20T07:00:00-04:00 2017-07-20T20:56:04-04:00 Bill Frisell's Brilliant Cultural Appropriation
American jazz guitarist Bill Frisell, whose new record Small Town has just been released, is one of America's greatest purveyors of cultural appropriation. It's what makes him an American artist of soul, daring, and vision.

He's also been called "too white" by NPR, but I'll get to that.

Frisell's style has been called "Americana." He has recorded pieces by American greats Stephen Foster, Charles Ives, and Aaron Copland. But Frisell was also member of Naked City, the avant-garde group of improvisational musicians who gathered in New York in the late-1980s and early-'90s, playing everything from bebop to the James Bond theme. Frisell has also played country, surprising jazz fans with the 1997 bluegrass-meets-jazz album Nashville, which was named album of the year by Downbeat. Influenced by Wes Montgomery, Sonny Rollins, Bill Evans, Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, and Charlie Parker, Frisell has recorded songs by the Beach Boys, Elvis Costello, Marvin Gaye, and even Madonna. Later this year, a documentary about him will be released.

"I like when it's impossible to tell at first if something is black or white, or country or blues, or whatever," Frisell, who was born in Baltimore, raised in Colorado, spent years in New York and now lives in Seattle, once told an interviewer. "The simplistic way of looking at it is to say a lot of the stuff we listen to now started in Africa and evolved into the blues and jazz and everything else when it came to America. But you hear some of these contemporary African guitar players, and you can tell that they've been listening to hillbilly records."

Frisell, 66, has a distinct style, using reverb, bell-like harmonics, distortion, and feedback loops supplied by a machine called the Electro-Harmonix delay, to produce a chiming, questing sound that is at once intimate, grand, open-ended, and introspective. One of the best examples of the Frisell aesthetic is his cover of the Motown classic "I Heard It Through the Grapevine." Sounding soulful, experimental, and with touches of feedback and a hint of country, the eight-minute rendition explores the melody and architecture of the song in an entirely new way. The guitar echoes with apprehension, fitting for a song about news of an affair, but also chimes with a hint of redemption and takes time to explore the cosmos. One would be hard-pressed to categorize it. Free Jazz? Pop? Country? Experimental? Yes, yes, and yes.

Frisell embodies the spirit of Western culture, its practice of honoring traditions, culture, and hard work while also embracing experimentalism and the push to new frontiers. It's no wonder one of Frisell's albums is called The Declaration of Musical Independence.

Small Town is a gorgeously quiet album. Recorded at New York's Village Vanguard with bassist Thomas Morgan, the album includes the Carter Family's country song "Wildwood Flower," a cover of "Goldfinger," Fats Domino's "What a Party," Lee Konitz' jazz bop "Subconscious-Lee," and the title track, an evocative sonic poem to small-town America.

Perhaps predictably, Frisell's turn towards American music, that began with Nashville and continued through albums like 2014's Guitar in the Space Age and 2016's When You Wish Upon a Star, has not been welcomed by everyone. For too many modern critics, music has to have a certain level of confrontation or outrage to be valid. Shelby Steele once noted that in the 1960s it became virtuous to show bad faith towards America. It's still considered cool be express suspicion towards the United States, never mind the unabashed celebration of her musical heritage that Frisell exemplifies (I've no idea what Frisell's politics are). Critics may have had some excited anticipation when it was revealed in 1992 that Frisell was going to cover a song by Madonna, who has never expressed anything but contempt for America. Yet Frisell chose "Live to Tell," a ballad about overcoming personal suffering and Madonna's only truly great song.

In a 2014 review of Guitar in the Space Age, David A. Graham of The Atlantic wrote: "Overall, however, it's a little too perfect for the NPR crowd: middle-aged, kinda eclectic, but not very adventurous. Perhaps unavoidably for a set so heavily geared to surf tunes, it also feels awfully white." This is an unfortunate opinion, the words of a man far more limited in imagination than the artist he's covering.
 Mark Judge tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21941 2017-07-17T10:40:37-04:00 2017-07-17T10:40:37-04:00 alt-J - "Deadcrush" Official Video tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21936 2017-07-17T07:01:00-04:00 2017-07-16T15:53:34-04:00 The Casual Horror of "Hotel California"
We were always traveling in vans, it seemed, en route to a mall or a nursing home or a television show or some supper club out in Sparks. We'd sing; strangers dug it. This was the price some of us paid, gladly, as high school students, for easy enough As. "Chorus" was a daily class, we were the Hallmen; our voices were finely honed weapons.

There was, inevitably, a moment on every one of these jaunts where everything went sideways. The vans—frequently employed by athletic teams—stank of sweat and body odor. No one could agree on a radio station so we were stuck with small talk and the rumble of the road, for a while.

Then the brattiest of my fellow Hallmen would wink at another Hallman, and it began: three or five of them would launch into a rendition of the Eagles' "Hotel California." All of "Hotel California." Every single fucking verse. Sometimes they'd sing the song twice, fumbling the lyrics and struggling not to break up in the process.

In isolation, I don't have any opinion either way about the Eagles, a band beloved by millions of people; they might as well be Bread or Michael MacDonald. They're fine, and I sincerely bear them no ill will. Yet my fellow Hallmen's impromptu "Hotel California" performances filled me with rage, and whenever, more than two decades later, I have cause to remember them, my loathing for the Eagles intensifies.

"Why did the Eagles have to write this stupid song?" I wondered, now as then. "If they'd never written it, I wouldn't have to hear these boneheads massacre an endless hit single none of us can begin to understand every two weeks." It was excruciating, and on some level it seems like I'm still stuck on one of these vans, waiting for these douchebags to wrap up and smugly congratulate one another for making it through.

In retrospect, my agony was about reticence and control; in youth I was too reserved to ask them to stop, or to complain to our chorus director, and even with a battery-powered Walkman in tow I lacked the agency to drown "Hotel California" altogether. But even if "Hotel California" didn't exist, these fools would've found another song to slaughter in the name of keeping their vocal cord supple: something by Eric Clapton, maybe, or Simon and Garfunkel. There never would've been any escape from this post-adolescent reign of terror; some tortures are baked in, inevitable, eternal.
 Raymond Cummings tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21935 2017-07-17T07:00:00-04:00 2017-07-16T15:58:49-04:00 Music That Isn't Planning to Change the World
Big album releases, like Jay-Z's 4:44 or Beyonce's Lemonade tend to make big statements. They're ambitious events that turn personal material (like infidelity) into universal lessons or commentary. That's part of pop's exhilaration—the feeling that you're participating in a widely-shared experience, where one person is speaking for everyone and everyone is speaking for one person.

Event albums can be great. But there's also a pleasure in listening to performers who know they're reaching a handful of people, rather than millions. Stars are appealing because they're bigger than life, but smaller-than-life-art has its charms as well. Here are three recent releases that succeed by not trying to take over the world.

Dustin Wong & Takako Minekawa—Are Euphoria

Wong and Minekawa make textured, noodly, inspirational foot-tapping elevator muzak. "Benbelo" has a chirping flute noise cycling and looping along while washes of dreamy sound rush towards the galaxies—you could see it being used as the background for an ad selling insurance to prospective robot space travelers. "Elastic Astral Peel" clicks, trundles, and squeaks along as vaguely Eastern cymbal-like keyboard sounds offer a counterpoint and then singers come in, yodeling ecstatically in a forest as the laptops twitter form the trees. It's fey, winking, cutesy music, pretty and precious, committed to trivial profundity and profound triviality.

None of that is meant as a negative; Are Euphoria is a delightfully small record, filled with hummable tunes, odd noises, and fun ideas. You could see children loving it—and for that matter most of these songs would make a great background for Sesame Street animations. Which is high praise.

My Purest Heart for You—Tragic End

Wong and Minekawa are turned whimsically inward; My Purest Heart for You is rolled into a ball of despair. The mysterious black metal outfit's first EP, Grief Has Ambushed Me Once Again, which I wrote about here last year was a lovely, anxious fusion of shoegaze and black metal. Their newest effort is even more lyrically melodic. Each track puts what sound like romantic classical strings and melodies under feedback hiss and distant screaming. Listening to it is actively disorienting, as your brain gropes for the tune under the painful static. Tragic End is almost a trick for getting you to fall into your own skull and never surface—an exercise in isolation.

Red Pill—Day Drunk

"Don't work, just party—you'll be all right. Don't try so hard. Just live your life," Michigan rapper Red Pill muses on his first Paul White guest-produced track "What You Wish For." The initial lowering of expectations is indicative; over laid-back beats and low-key catchy hooks, Red Pill describes himself as a fat Jesse Eisenberg and chats about eating chicken vindaloo while doing an interview in the nude and checking Instagram. On "Inside" he compares himself to an unloaded gun; on "Fly on a Window" he raps about cleaning the kitchen floor. "Porn & Milk" finds him rapping about his morning ritual: "I dread to look at my balance/as I dread that frozen toilet I'm about to put my ass on."

The porn and milk of the title isn't a sex scenario, but a description of what the guy behind him in line at the mini-mart is buying. On the great "Probably Not," produced by Illingsworth, Red Pill dourly observes, "I get invited to my high school reunion so my whole night is ruined/Hey Susan. What have I bee doing?/Making a living writing about how I hate humans." This is anti-gangsta rap; instead of a tough guy boasting of his conquests, Red Pill chronicles the steady drumbeat of minutia kicking his ass. "Someday I'm going to change my ways/but probably not," he says. That's a rallying cry for the rest of us.
 Noah Berlatsky tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21886 2017-07-05T06:59:00-04:00 2017-07-04T15:35:57-04:00 When Radiohead Finally Found Their Way
The release of the 20th anniversary edition of OK Computer, subtitled OKNOTOK 1997 2017, has driven home that Radiohead has entered the career stage where bands like R.E.M. and U2 were nearly two decades ago, a point at which many bands—hugely popular ones, at least—stop growing artistically and simply try to maintain their legacy. Fortunately, Radiohead is both smarter and better than that, as evidenced by the release of last year's A Moon Shaped Pool, one of their best albums that, while not exactly boundary-pushing, was still miles better than most attempts from bands whose members are approaching 50. And that's why the release of OKNOTOK feels a little strange, at least from the perspective of a longtime fan: It is a conscious look back at an era the band couldn't wait to get beyond.

But reflections on the past need not be made with rose-tinted lenses, especially when considering an album that seemingly looked to the future with a sense of foreboding and trepidation. Much has been made of OK Computer's themes that, while not necessarily anti-technology, had a chilly view of society's increasing reliance on and uncritical devotion to the machines that would accompany us into the 21st century and ostensibly make life better. Radiohead were far from the only artist of the 1990s to look to the oncoming century with skepticism (the trip-hop of the time mined similar emotional territory, with Tricky even naming an album Pre-Millennium Tension), but the band's songs seemed to capture the kinds of emotions normally the domain of non-rock artists with the pathos of Thom Yorke's angelic falsetto. Twenty years on and OK Computer proved to be prescient in its own era and at home in ours.

The trap many critics fall into over this album—the tendency to over-intellectualize and over-pontificate on its themes—is largely due to the fact that the album hangs together so well, perfectly sequenced as a set of songs that together form a greater whole. It may not be a concept album, as many critics mistakenly assumed upon its release, but it most assuredly is an album. Since first hearing it 20 years ago it has never been too far out of my reach, as the world has changed to all but confirm the worldview put forth by each of the album's twelve songs. No matter what Thom Yorke may say—that his lyrical focus was on the increasing momentum of the contemporary world, or that it was all a reaction to the band's relentless touring—the fact remains that he and his bandmates managed to singularly convey how it felt to live in a world on the verge of information overload. Alienation had rarely been conveyed by such a great set of songs.

The irony is that while the band may have had misgivings about the oncoming century, they were incredibly optimistic and open-minded about the future of popular music. The electronica of the mid-to-late '90s was beginning to hit its peak around the release of OK Computer, and the album's futuristic sound was duly noted by many critics at the time, a sound produced by incorporating such instruments as outdated computer arpeggiators (the bleeps at the end of "Let Down") and mellotrons ("Exit Music," "Lucky," et al). Yet the album still managed to sound new. The band was hardly making a foray into the contemporary drum-and-bass rhythms as Bowie had done on Earthling earlier the same year, nor did they care much for the retro-futurism of their peers in Stereolab. Radiohead were concerned more with textures than rhythms, even as the opening track "Airbag," with its DJ Shadow-inspired drum beat, might seem to refute that claim. Like Shadow, the band's mode of operation was the re-appropriation of disparate influences to create something wholly their own. But despite all this, Radiohead were still very much a rock band, and OK Computer would be the last time they functioned as such in any traditional sense.

OKNOTOK marks the first time Radiohead have officially reissued the album with their approval, a crisp remaster presented alongside a thoughtfully sequenced second disc containing outtakes and b-sides. Those who have longed for a return to the sound of 1995's The Bends will find cause for celebration in the previously unreleased studio versions of songs written as the band were still feeling out their next sound. As such, "I Promise," "Man of War," and "Lift" are closer to Bends b-sides "Talk Show Host" and "Bishop's Robes" that presaged the sound of OK Computer, and in fact would fit better alongside those songs than they do opening this new disc. "I Promise" is too much a love song for OK Computer, and "Lift" too anthemic, too similar with The Bends lyrically that it isn't surprising why it was abandoned so quickly. "Man of War" is one of the few anomalies in the band's catalog, a conscious attempt to create a mock-Bond theme that would have been incongruous on either of the other two albums, a perfect compilation track that the band attempted and failed to record again in 1998 for The Avengers soundtrack. But incongruous or not, the songs are welcome additions to the band's canon.

The rest of disc two's previously released b-sides are mostly excellent, though nothing new for fans who collected the original singles and EPs, or more recently, listened to them on streaming services. "Palo Alto" and "Polyethylene (Parts 1&2)" are two of the band's loudest assaults, featuring the three-guitar attack that they were still known for during this period ("Palo Alto," originally titled "OK Computer," has a wider quiet/loud dynamic than anything the Pixies ever recorded). Instrumental "Meeting in the Aisle" reveals the band may have been fans of early Simple Minds, Jonny Greenwood's guitar textures winding like a double helix around its programmed beat. The slow burn of "A Reminder" is the band at their most dreamlike, featuring the same tremolo-heavy electric piano sound heard on "Subterranean Homesick Alien." These songs were in many ways as inventive as the ones that made the album, even if a few of them feel like ideas the band weren't quite sure how to complete: "Lull" is the kind of thing future Radiohead imitators would endlessly churn out, while the keyboards on the short and slight "Melatonin" paved the way for the band's 21st century incarnation.

For me, OK Computer has always been where Radiohead finally found themselves as a band, even if they found it necessary to redefine themselves from scratch on their next album. Their status as guitar innovators would end along with the 20th century, while dozens of imitators would bid for the title in the early years of the next. It's at once a transitional album and a defining statement, a work both of its time and one that stands outside it, and even as the era it succinctly encapsulates will one day pass away, we'll always have the songs.
 Michael McWay tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21879 2017-07-03T13:35:45-04:00 2017-07-03T13:35:45-04:00 Tristen - "Got Some" Official Video tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21861 2017-06-29T07:02:00-04:00 2017-06-28T13:56:39-04:00 Get Up, Go Over, Turn This Tape Off
I'm semi-indifferent on Radiohead's first three LPs, but after that, it's off to the races, even if sometimes I can't resist the temptation to make fun of these guys. Here are my favorite songs by a band that's less one-dimensional than the tortured, self-serious stereotype fans and detractors like to embrace.

10. "Idioteque" (from Kid A, 2000)

So Thom Yorke was cranking a lot of Autechre at this point, shouting out the duo in interviews and shit—then when interviewers would bring up Radiohead with Sean Booth and Rob Brown, they'd just dissemble. As potent as "Idioteque" was and remains, depending on one's state of mind, it can mirror a prevalent worldview or verge on self-parody. In recent times, the former is more often the case.

9. "Karma Police" (from OK Computer, 1997)

More people join in on singing this song with each passing year, even if they've never actually heard it before.

8. "You and Whose Army?" (from Amnesiac, 2001)

Black Bloc agitators spoiling for the ultimate anti-globalist anthem got a washed out lullaby instead—something a drunk WWI doughboy might stumble through in a bar after clobbering the resident pianist.

7. "Morning Bell" (from Kid A, 2000)

It's the lyrics, and the tone, and an endless, spiraling sense of free-fall—but it's also something oppressive in those piles of blurry, claustrophobic keyboard chords that moves the Kid A version of "Morning Bell" to a higher level.

6. "15 Step" (from In Rainbows, 2007)

The absolute worst song to queue up when the gang's karaoke night out transitions into one at-risk pal's impromptu intervention.

5. "There There" (from Hail to the Thief, 2003)

If you opt to fixate on the outro—and I do—this might as well be Radiohead's "Suspect Device." Prior to that point, though, sentiments that question human connection are rendered moot by a stunned, stunning instrumental groove; it's like having an intense conversation annihilated by a fantastic fireworks display you didn't know was going to happen.

4. "Lotus Flower" (from The King of Limbs, 2011)

Really, what's there to say about "Lotus Flower" beyond something like "this here is some dark, seeeeeexy Radiohead"? It's a perfect pop single that arrived too late to actually conquer the world; its video is shameless, transfixing.

3. "Packt Like Sardines in a Crushed Tin Box" (from Amnesiac, 2001)

When I was a kid I used to imagine that the year 2000 would be insanely hot. That there'd be no ozone layer. That we'd never go outside without sunscreen on. That there'd be constant flash fires. For whatever reason, "Packt" always evokes this particular future—something, I guess, about how flat, flinty, and peevish it feels, how familiar, yet how inhuman at the same time.

2. "Present Tense" (from A Moon-Shaped Pool, 2016)

The more of life you've seen, the harder "distance is like a weapon" hits as truth and the more facile "keep it light, keep it moving" scans as aspirational fluff—another story we tell ourselves in order to live through another bleak day. But "Present Tense" is so beautiful, so musically feathery—the shaker, the echoing, mildly psychedelic voices, the gentle spray of guitars—that life's emotional darknesses are easier to swallow. Anyway, what would this song sound like if Korn covered it acoustically?

1. "A Wolf at the Door" (from Hail to the Thief, 2003)

An imagined invincibility consumes masculinity, an inflated sense of immortality. The emotion at the center of "A Wolf at the Door" is that illusion shattering into a million shards. You're not in complete control of your destiny; you can be injured physically or emotionally. You can be stripped bare and violated. Someday you're gonna die, and there's absolutely nothing you can do to prevent that from happening. This is the sound of surrendering, or acclimating to surrender—those crisp, composed early verses giving way to vocals that are more panicked and flailing at loose ends, adolescent carnival chords dissolving into the anxious, black-red swirls of early middle age. It doesn't necessarily get better.
 Raymond Cummings tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21853 2017-06-27T14:44:31-04:00 2017-06-27T14:44:31-04:00 Moses Sumney - "Doomed" Official Video tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21850 2017-06-27T09:45:11-04:00 2017-06-27T09:45:11-04:00 Computer Noises
Electronic music is a genre mostly defined by how the noises are produced, rather than by any particular sound. As a result, the variety of random noises that can be lumped under the umbrella term is spectacularly large, from ambient wallpaper to industrial dance to arty theramins for soundtracks. So if the recent releases below don't make sense together, blame the computers, not me.

Halo—Juana Molina

Argentine singer/songwriter Juana Molina's music is sometimes characterized as indietronic, and it's a label that fits her latest album well. She pairs wispy naïf vocals with fey lyrical melodies that slide back and forth between acoustic and electronic bits. "Cálculos y oráculos" wanders into ambient throbs under Molina's voice; it comes across like Julie London singing from inside a gently mewing mainframe. "Los pies helados" has a country twang set against extremely processed vocals, while "Cosoco" hits a cheery pop strut with Latin textures that recall Molina's father's legacy as a tango singer. The precise goofiness of the electronic soundscapes make Molina sound immaculate and childlike, orchestrating a carefully cracked perfection.

Electronica is often associated with alienation and artificiality, but Molina uses it to express fragile idiosyncratic and sincerity—Brian Wilson or Syd Barrett turned into bytes. Molina's a bit too precious and predictable to really hold up to those predecessors. But while Halo isn't an eclectic genius album, it's a very enjoyable computer enhancement of the genre.

Black Origami—Jlin

As part of Chicago's footwork scene, Jlin is one of the better-known practitioners of a not especially well-known genre. She's worked with RP Boo, who's one of my favorite living musicians, but her music is very different from his joyfully repetitive dance tracks for the broken-limbed. Black Origami is more insular and contained—each track feels like it's been carefully assembled out of splashes of beats and vivisected samples. Footwork's trademark reiterations are in place, but layered on top of each other and twisted around, folded up, and sculpted—the origami is a lovely metaphor for the album itself. "Carbon 7 (161)" is as characteristic a track as any. It opens with a series of thumb-pianoesque repeating notes, throws in itchy snares and a receding sci-fi sound effect, and adds a chipmunk style voice garbling inaudible rhythmic yodels. There's a buzzer and what sounds like chimes. It's danceable in the abstract; a club track put together by too many-legged aliens from some vague blueprint century after the earth implodes. Similarly, "Hatshepsut" is a marching band disassembled, with drums rolling and then fracturing apart and the horns trying to start up and being stifled by attacking nanomachines, which re-jigger them into Eastern gongs. It's a challenging album that grows on you as it takes your head apart.

Dominati Symbols—K. Reinshagen

Khristopher Reinshagen is the founder of Nostilevo, a wonderful record label that specializes in experimental electronica akin to concrete being dragged by dirty robots across your eardrums. Dominati Symbols is on Opal Cassettes, but it's true to that Nostilevo aesthetic; listening to the tape is like wandering through a slowly disintegrating industrial factory. Distorted laser blasts skitter across rusting machinery, generating piercing echoes and ominous piles of twisted detritus. "Spring's Dance" doesn't sound like spring or a dance, but rather steel cables disconnecting and snapping back quasi-rhythmically. It's surprisingly soothing, if you enjoy the sensation of having cyclopean pistons dropping upon you from a great height. If Molina's work is music enhanced with electronics, and Jlin's is music made with electronics, this is electronics from which most of the music has been resolutely hammered out, leaving pulses of noise and irritating scratching feedback. The only way it could be more delightfully unlistenable is if it were just a single piercing wail for 30 minutes.
 Noah Berlatsky tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21848 2017-06-27T07:00:00-04:00 2017-06-27T00:15:53-04:00 Three Early Summer Sunshowers
Moon Diagrams, "Blue Ring" (Geographic North)

Moon Diagrams is the solo project of Deerhunter's Moses Archuleta. Last year's 2015's Care Package (Sketch for Winter IV) cassette and the forthcoming Lifetime of Love emphasize his ambient pop credentials. Of the newest tunes, I'm most charmed by the 11-minute long "Blue Ring": whirled, soft-shoe pistoning up front, microscopic jungle tinkering at the midpoint, and liquid nitrogen Cluster/Cologne Tape-esque pianos tolling near the end. Did I mention the seamlessness of the transitions, how effortless and alive this music sounds? Yes, yes; it will be a week until "Blue Ring" is available for sale, and life is insane and the news cycle is incessant, and how can any of you be reminded to check for it? I don't fucking care what it takes: mark the calendar, set a Google Alert, whatever. Do it.

Multa Nox, "A Body Holds Still" (NNA Tapes)

"A Body Holds Still" plays like a standing mass-transit catnap, like pressure swiftly building towards consciousness two or three stops after yours. City sounds swirl, alarms cut in and out, there's an revving engine disguising itself a melody or vice versa, and murmurs pawing idly at one another, as if the other passengers sharing the bus are conspiratorial identical triplets. We can argue ad infinitum about whether this is actually a song, but as a mood, it's undisputedly strong—reminiscent, somewhat, of Carly Ptak's hypnotherapeutic audio collaging and Gabi Losoncy's voyeuristic field-recordings without really being beholden to either.

Animal Collective, "Amazonawana/Anaconda Opportunity"

Meeting of the Waters is the best Animal Collective recording in several years; if you're determined to only dip a toe into this EP, please proceed directly to "Amazonawana/Anaconda Opportunity," where Avey Tare and the Geologist tap deep into the no-fucks-given impressionism that characterized this band's earliest impulses. The surrounding jungle went to work on them, sure, but meantime they were actively re-mixing the jungle, bobbing and weaving, refuting language, eking out skeletal melodies, summoning space aliens to crash the sessions. Hakuna matata.
 Raymond Cummings tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21840 2017-06-26T07:00:00-04:00 2017-06-25T14:00:01-04:00 Watertown Is an Undiscovered Sinatra Gem
I've been listening to Frank Sinatra for years. I trace my earliest memories of his songs back to my grandparents' house in Auburn, N.Y. They enjoyed the music from that era and, although I was too young to have any real musical preferences, his songs sounded fine to me. How can anyone, of any age, not like listening to "Come Fly With Me"?

Sinatra wasn't on the stereo back at home. There, I remember a lot of show tunes. West Side Story and Cabaret come to mind. Music never meant that much to me until I could find my own to like. When that time came, I sure wasn't buying any Sinatra albums. Later on, in college, a close friend from Buffalo whose dad used to play some professional trumpet used to rave about Sinatra, but I resisted. Frank was a cultural artifact of the cocktail generation. As it turned out, my friend was much hipper than I was. He could love both Sinatra and the Velvet Underground and feel no conflict.

It'd be six years after graduation before I'd willingly listen to a Sinatra album, but I got hooked. I bought all his albums I could find, and have regularly listened to them to this day. The voice and the phrasing, combined with his choice of songs and collaborators (e.g. arranger Nelson Riddle) made this nearly inevitable. The single thing that makes Sinatra untouchable as an artist is his ability to convince the listener that he's feeling the emotions he's singing about right in the moment. There's never any doubt. Put him up against a technically brilliant singer like, say Aretha Franklin, and he wins every time on this front. She simply lacks his emotional range and ability to connect with her audience, though her pyrotechnics are superior. Once Sinatra's sung a song, you don't need to hear another cover of it.

While my knowledge of Sinatra's music is far from encyclopedic, it's solid enough that I was stunned to have just discovered that he produced a lost gem of an album I've never heard of. Compounding the surprise is that fact that it's a concept album named after a town less than a two-hour drive from my grandparents' place in Auburn where I was first introduced to his music. Watertown, released in 1969, was a commercial flop and is nearly forgotten.

Sinatra owned the 1950s, but Elvis and the Beatles blindsided him. Rock 'n' roll, a musical style he professed to despise, made him look like a relic. Sinatra hard a hard time even getting his calls returned when that happened. Watertown represents an attempt to remain relevant, with its updated sound incorporating electric guitar, electric bass, keyboards, and drums into the arrangements. The album, mainly composed by Bob Gaudio—who wrote hits for the Four Seasons—is a melancholy song-cycle in which Sinatra adopts the persona of a middle-aged man in a nondescript town trying to make sense of his life after his wife has disappeared. Where she's gone to, or why, remains ambiguous, but he's left to bring up the kids.

Johnny Cash undertaking such a project would be no surprise, but it's a departure for a jet-setter who'd been on top of the world for so long. Upon closer inspection, however, it's less of a leap. Sinatra never hid his vulnerabilities in his work like he did in his public life with all his bluster. This quality is on full display in his torch song masterpiece, Only the Lonely, but there the listener gets the feeling the artist will emerge from his deep funk. With Watertown, that's looking far less likely, paralleling the relative place in his career arc Sinatra was at when he recorded these two works. With Watertown, some of the sadness in the voice may be informed by a degree of surrender to the inevitable. He knew he didn't have much new to say.

The eponymous track languidly kicks off the album, setting the stage for the story. "Old Watertown, nothing much happening down on Main 'cept a little rain." That's Watertown's reputation. I've driven by it dozens of times on the highway, but have never once been tempted to stop there. Next, on "Goodbye," the singer juxtaposes the banality of the final breakup—it took place in a coffee shop "with cheesecake and apple pie"—with the emotional devastation it wrought. She won't even tell him why—can't produce one tear. In "For a While," Sinatra's conveying the familiar emotions of the brokenhearted when their pain's momentarily interrupted by mundane everyday events—"some small talk with those I know"—only have it reappear in short order.

The fourth song, "Michael & Peter," is the album's highlight. It's written in the form of a letter to his lost wife, as if she was just away on an extended vacation. "I think the house could use some paint," and "The air still has a country smell." The final line's about the children: "You'll never believe how much they're growing."

In "I Would Be In Love Anyway," the narrator's saying he'd do it all again, even if he knew how it would end. "Elizabeth" is a lovely ballad, right in Sinatra's wheelhouse. Few singers could get away with singing "Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth" twice in a short song and make it sound great. "What a Funny Girl" is a fond reminiscence of Elizabeth's quirks. The suggestion is that they may have been childhood sweethearts: "We'd spend each night with company. Just you the teddy bears the dolls and me."

"What's Now Is Now" is the first suggestion that a third party's involved: "Just one mistake is not enough to change my mind. What's now is now and I'll forget what happened then." He'll take her back, but we don't know if she ever hears these words—if he's ever been able to express them to her. In fact, we don't even know if she's still alive.

The penultimate song, "She Says," portends a happy ending. Sinatra lets his voice soar at the very end with, "She says she's comin' home," but she's not. Maybe the singer, unable to let it go, just imagined those words. In "The Train," he's at the station, in giddy anticipation of his Elizabeth's arrival: "So many changes since you've been away, and there's so many things to say." The sun disappears and the rain comes as the train approaches. Elizabeth isn't on the train. "The train is slowly moving on, but I can't see you anywhere."

I can't think of an album that feels like more of a piece of literature than Watertown. Sinatra's vocals add an emotional depth to the words in a way not available to a writer. But the public never took to it. To begin with, the cover art was off-putting. The uninspiring pencil drawing of a Watertown train station is about as inviting as the town itself. Where's the jaunty drawing of the coolest guy on the planet? The attempt was to look "real," but it's more like something hanging in a dusty country antique shop. If you can get past that, you then have to commit to the challenge of piecing together a story of broken love that's far from straightforward. This is a story with an unreliable narrator.

That Sinatra would even attempt to take on this ambitious a work is a measure of his artistry. His peers, if he had any, never stretched themselves like this. He quit the business for some time after Watertown didn't crack the Billboard 100, which had always been automatic for him. Sinatra was at the peak of his powers with Songs For Swingin Lovers, which is so exhilarating. Facing few impediments of any kind, everything fell into place for him and he produced a nearly-perfect album. The pleasures of Watertown are elusive. It lacks the non-stop hooks of songs like "I've Got You Under My Skin" or "You Make Me Feel So Young." Sinatra was uncertain of his place in the culture by that time. He'd lost his purchase and went for the longshot. Still, the album will live on as a major, unique contribution to American culture, separate from his many hits.
 Chris Beck tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21839 2017-06-24T07:01:00-04:00 2017-06-23T14:21:26-04:00 The Early Days of DIY
Surface noise, compression, tape hiss, distortion, and other low fidelity elements are common on early sound recordings, but these defects became rare in the '60s when massive multi-channel mixers and multi-track tape machines became de rigueur at professional studios. As the pop world's standard issue high fidelity emerged there just weren't enough big record labels to issue high quality recordings for every aspiring artist out there. Soon enough enthusiastic music fans and small time producers began making records for the non-entities, amateurs, and square pegs who'd been ignored. These recordings were usually created on shoestring budgets by people with little to no background in audio engineering. Thus low fidelity became synonymous with the DIY ethos and non-conforming artists of all shapes and sizes.

In 2015 Crypt Records began reissuing mega-rare early DIY pop-rock releases on the Last of the Garage Punk Unknowns compilations. Volumes 6, 7, and 8 of Last of the GPU feature many vintage recordings which predicted the lo-fi tropes that have become important elements in today's music.

Last of the Garage Punk Unknowns 6 is an insane adventure into the dankest, crustiest reaches of lo-fi infamy: a hypnotic pattern of noise damage illuminates the riff-driven punk psychosis of Wet Paint and Caedman and the Nobles. Their two tracks seem to have been captured by producers who set up the microphones right next to great piles of sizzling bacon (though in reality that sizzle probably came as a result of a cheap styrene pressing or unprofessional handling of analogue master recordings).

Heavy fuzz distortion has long been a punk hallmark, but this distinctive effect is usually reserved for guitars. Thanks to some blessed miracle/mistake "Set Me Free" by Sir Kenneth & the Yorkshire Coachmen features a crushing blast of fuzzed tambourine, an unholy clatter that would be more at home on a Death Grips album or a European IDM track. This jittery chaos stands in stark contrast to the song's lumbering dirge-punk structure. Speaking of fuzz, high energy tracks by The Plague and Tennessee's appropriately named Fuzztones burn with intensity drenched in a level of distortion so thick that their chord changes and melodies are constantly on the verge of dissappearance.

The tragic, maudlin side of early DIY music is the focus of Last of the GPU 7 and 8, and the lo-fi contingent makes awesome cameos on both records. The most notable of these is "Tryin' to Come Back", the lone release by a mysterious West Vriginia crew called The Plastic Menagerie. "Tryin'..." is infused with the strange melancholy often heard in work by today's finest bedroom pop singer-songwriters. Its awkward emotional rawness is only magnified by the distortion, which sounds like it was recorded with one overdriven microphone placed directly above a cymbal bell. Softly strummed guitars, funereal organ, weepy vocals, and even the sound of a full drum kit barely bleed through that cymbal's white noise onslaught.

Though few other tracks from the collections match The Plastic Menagerie's noise level, plenty of other songs match their low key minimalism —"She's On My Mind" by The Last Image, "Dark Side" by Chicago band The Other Side, "Orphan" by Valhalla, NY's Mystics, and other cuts from 7 and 8 would fit perfectly in a mix with artists like Girlpool, Frankie Cosmos, and 100%.

Numerous other connections between DIY's past and present can be found on Last of the GPU 7 and 8: folk punk anthems by Nomads and Swiss band The White Angels both present a futuristic folk context in which slashing chords and layers of distortion symbolize complex sentiments of introspection and nostalgia thus predicting the poetic diy indie/folk rock of Guided By Voices and singer-songwriters like Phil Elverum (Mt. Eerie, The Microphones), Courtney Barnett, and Jeff Mangum (Neutral Milk Hotel).

Low fidelity's cultural significance is a distinct bi-product of the late 20th century's DIY scene. More recently, this milieu has been instrumental in defining the role of damaged sound as an effect that adds texture and mood to recordings, particularly in those created by today's more adventurous electronic musicians and producers. Last of the Garage Punk Unknowns shines a glorious spotlight on the humble origins of contemporary pop's obsession with the lo-fi approach as both a dynamic production element and a DIY artist's badge of honor.
 Robin Malloy tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21829 2017-06-22T10:11:00-04:00 2017-07-05T00:44:57-04:00 Why I Left the Beatles
"'Beatles do this,'" I mimic bitterly. "'Beatles do that. Beatle Colin play on half beat.' How about Beatle Yoko imitate a tree stump?"

John stirs, sits upright. "Col," he says, "I swear to God, watch that fookin' mouth or—"

"You're on heroin, nitwit. You want to hit me? I'd have to pick you up and carry you into position. Okay? Then maybe you could try something. If the smell from your armpit didn't kill you. Yeah," I say, warming to my theme, "I want to see you try. I just don't want to smell you."

A hoarse, honking, surprised laugh from the studio's corner. I don't turn around. "Great," I say. "Paul. Fuck Apple. Okay, Paul?"

John can't quite get to his feet. "You're a pig, May," he says. "You're an animal. You aren't fit to be in the same room as Yoko. She's a sensitive artist. She's turning the world on. She's introducing a whole new way of seeing. She—"

"Your girlfriend is shrubbery. You notice that? Real strong resemblance. Also, and here's a point I want to stress, you don't have a beard. Your 'beard' is just skin disease by other means. Ringo has a beard."

"Thanks, mate," says Ringo from behind his drum kit. As always, he wants to be liked.

"Ringo has a beard," I forge on. "You've got inflamed mattress stuffing. You've got a three-foot itch. You've got Tarzan's butt hair growing from your nose."

John still can't get to his feet. His face is white from heroin and his boiling rage. Yoko, that dark-haired stub, has wedged herself beneath his arm and is trying to lever him up. I note that her face is twisted, mouth and nostrils squeezed shut. Lennon's armpit is no place to be.

"Here, here, here." A hand brushes my elbow and I whirl. It's Paul, of course, the diplomat. "No need for fussin'," he says, and with his accent it sounds like "fur foosin." I really can't stand that. "The music's what it's about," he says. "It's all just a sing-song, when you coom down to it."

"'Coom'?" I say, eyebrow up.

His brown eyes are opened wide; they project guileless sunbeams. "You, me, Ringo, John," he says. "Even old George Martin, there in the control booth. We're all just tryin' to give the folks a bit oove the la-la-la. A bit oove the dee-dee-dee. Y'know. Coom on, Colin, what do you say, give that guitar a strum. We'll lay down a track that makes their eyes dance. We'll—"

"You know," I say, "when you talk? You sound like an elf farting through a slide whistle. A crooked elf that nobody trusts. And also, Apple sucks. I really hate Apple."

"Gentlemen," a voice crackles. George Martin has turned on the intercom. "Gentlemen, need I remind you that presently we're at take 237. Perhaps it's time to summon our energies and address the matter at hand."

"Coom now," Paul says to me. "Everybody digs Apple. They know it's a beautiful trip." Over his shoulder: "Ringo, you dig Apple."

"Well," Ringo says, sounding forlorn. "Well... you know."

"It's a gas," Paul says. "It's loov by means of currency. It's communism with a smile. It's a rainbow but with office space and a drinks budget." Only he says "boo-jit."

"It's taking my money!" I say. "I want my money and you're giving it to macrobiotic puppet theaters that throw the I Ching!"

But now John and Yoko are upon me. "You've had this coming, Colin," John says. His fist is cocked. Within a matter of minutes, it may be able to reach my chin. Yoko, face clenched, continues to support him.

"And what's a half beat?" I ask. This is for Yoko, and I've stooped down to confront her. I keep my distance, though. I know that she moves fast. "You tell me what a half beat is and maybe I'll play 'on' it, okay? Find a grapefruit, put it on a stepladder, hook up a telescope, look through the telescope at the grapefruit, and maybe there, printed on the grapefruit, it'll say what a half beat is. And then maybe I'll play my solo in 'Sexy Sadie' on the half beat."

Another honking laugh. It's Paul. "Goo' one," he says.

I straighten up. "Four years at Sarah Lawrence," I tell the room. "What did she major in—Gnomic Stupidity? Avant-Garde Pissiness? Opaque Manifes—"

There's a muttered "Cor" and the sound of a body crumpling to the ground. John. She's dropped him.

The intercom: "Colin, watch out!" I've been careless. Tackled at the knees, I drop like a sack. Yoko Ono's currant-like eyes glare into mine. Hair like dark Brillo hides the light. Then her fists descend. Her teeth bite deep. Her thumbs gouge.

And that's why I left the Beatles.

—Follow C.T. May on Twitter: @CTMay3
 C.T. May tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21825 2017-06-21T08:05:00-04:00 2017-06-22T01:22:26-04:00 Guerilla Toss Bestride the Globe
Who expected Guerilla Toss would be back so soon? I loved their DFA debut Eraser Stargazer, which came out just a year ago. A couple of weeks ago I was mindlessly scrolling somewhere when I saw they had a new song out: "Betty Dreams of Green Men." I listened to it 10 times in a row that afternoon, went and saw a lousy movie, then listened to it 10 more times before going to bed. The new Guerilla Toss record is called GT Ultra, and even though the vinyl's been out for a month, and the CD came out a couple of weeks ago, I haven't seen much press or promotion for it. Maybe they're all waiting for the digital rollout this Friday. I would hate to see GT Ultra overlooked, because it's an insane record, ridiculously great and a huge leap forward for a band that's been grinding it out for seven years, carrying the torch of bands like Magik Markers, the USAISAMONSTER, Sightings, Arab on Radar, Yellow Swans, White Mice, and Hair Police. Other than Horse Lords, Guerilla Toss is the only band that belongs to that class of wild underground noise freak staples that seriously thinned around the turn of the decade.

GT Ultra is a prog-pop behemoth, a breakthrough record for a band that should be playing to thousands of people all over the world. I can't wait to see them when they come through Baltimore next—I've missed or chumped out on every chance I've had to see them live. Many of my friends went to their show at the Coward Shoe in early 2013, and all described the band as "kind of dangerous." Eraser Stargazer was really colorful but it sounded so cloudy, everything coated in green slime and slick with pink steam. GT Ultra is a freshly shaven pate, with Kassie Carlson's voice pushed to the front of the mix and relatively dry, even when it's drenched in obscene autotune ("Crystal Run"), or put through a telephone filter on "TV Do Tell," a great minute and a half of early 1980s/Buggles pastiche.

So many bands hide behind reverb racks and 17 delay pedals to obscure their uninspired songwriting and mediocre musicianship. In broad daylight, Guerilla Toss sound better than ever—tight, powerful, overflowing with ideas. The singles are incredible, full of a dozen hooks and instantly memorable refrains ("Do not call me, do not say my name/Waiting for the alien OK?").

Perfectly unhinged: I've already seen a lot of people compare GT Ultra to the Talking Heads' Remain in Light—high praise and not that hyperbolic. Byrne and Eno stitched together loops recorded in isolation in different time signatures to create a kind of organized chaos that proved pretty hard to pull off live. Guerilla Toss is just that good: conservatory musos with crazy chops that are irreverent, really fun and potentially insane—like my friends said years ago, "dangerous." Great bands are like a force of nature: powerful and elusive, impossible to fully grasp, comprehend, or control. It's exciting to stand before a band like Guerilla Toss and witness what they're conjuring and capable of. There's been a drought of interesting and exciting rock bands—or bands with rock instrumentation, whatever! This is the new, and it rules.

—Follow Nicky Smith on Twitter: @MUGGER1992
 Nicky Smith tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21815 2017-06-20T07:00:00-04:00 2017-06-20T01:42:47-04:00 Don't Lay Down and Die
There's a lot that I'd like to see in this world. Relative domestic political normalcy, world peace, a winning lottery ticket, and a new Bret Easton Ellis novel. Failing that, could we get a documentary on the video for Hole's "Malibu," or even just an oral history? It's a big ask, yes, but I've got so many questions. Answers probably aren't forthcoming; the particulars are likely lost of history. So we're stuck with this gorgeous, almost panderingly photogenic music video—this delectable car crash—streaming online forever, and we're left to speculate.

First, a few words about "Malibu" the song. Recently I declared it "Hole's last great single" somewhere on Facebook. Upon reflection, I was incorrect; this is Hole's best song ever, to include anything any iteration of Hole may happen to actualize at any future time. Hole will never be better than they were for those three minutes and 50 seconds. Go ahead, I dare you: listen to "Malibu" just once, now. You cannot. You will need to hear it multiple times, in a way that you will not need to revisit anything Hole has done.

Any darkness limning "Malibu" lurks at the bright margins of its crystalline, sun-kissed melody, phoenix-rising-from-the-ashes lite. "Malibu" sounds eternals, triumphant, hopeful, context independent. Sure, "Malibu" is not beholden to the 1990s, even if—trigger warning—"Come on, be alive again/don't lay down and die," which scans as clichéd common sense in 2017, automatically carries a different meaning for anyone sentient in 1994 who made it out of that year alive.

Back to the video. Michael Mann's Heat famously features at least 80 different locations; by my count, "Malibu" makes use of a good 10 or 12. In some attic or basement or warehouse in L.A. sits a small mountain of reels containing the guts of the short film this video initially wanted to be. But since video's Imperial Era was all but over 1998, director Paul Hunter and his cast made do with rioting smash-cut non-sequiturs deployed with a kicky panache.

Credit to Hunter; the "Malibu" video makes being a member of Hole seem almost as fun as playing bass for The Archies.

A few natural focal points were available to the camera: Melissa Auf Der Auer's warm smile and shoulders, Eric Erlandson's punk-rock glowering in active combat with his laconicism, Courtney Love's weird performative hand gestures, translucent frocks, and piercing blue eyes that seem to trail viewers around the room. (That barely-seen drummer? That isn't dismissed Hole drummer Patty Schemel, or the session drummer producer Michael Beinhorn drafted to play on Celebrity Skin.) The band is magnetic, performing at the center of an abandoned Los Angeles intersection at night for an audience that didn't know it was supposed to show up; periodically, crashed, flaming cars materialize around them, a metaphor for Love's public persona.

Elsewhere subplot strands flap and flutter, hints at what might have been a larger project: Auf Der Auer draped over a large sea rock, Erlandson's surfing routine, Hole communing with Chicano car culture, some bizarre Baywatch scenario where Love leads a cadre of lifeguards cradling baby dolls towards the ocean. I mean, this is a video where Love plays the guitar atop a pickup truck in front of a mural of L.A. at night, where said mural is later fed to flames, where she sways around in a trailer park. This is a video where palm trees burn and first responders force their way into an abandoned car. "Malibu" is a baffling, impressionistic (and probably insanely expensive) video; depending on the nature of what had to be cut, it might have been an amazing film.
 Raymond Cummings tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21817 2017-06-20T05:58:00-04:00 2017-06-19T20:33:19-04:00 Bluegrass Gospel: Devotion, Virtuosity, and Beauty
The most beautiful popular music made today is bluegrass gospel. This may strike you as an odd claim on several grounds. Perhaps you don't think about bluegrass as a contemporary form. And perhaps you think "gospel" is a term for African-American religious music, whereas bluegrass is definitely made by white people (who are of course naturally musical). Maybe you wouldn't listen to that corny old-time hick stuff under any circumstances. Whether or not that is bigotry, it's a bad aesthetic mistake.

Gospel has been part of bluegrass music since Bill Monroe and the Bluegrass Boys invented the form in that late 1940s. In Monroe's shows and festivals, he usually performed a section of religious music—"hymn time"—in which the music slowed down and the emphasis shifted from the instruments (mandolin, banjo, fiddle, guitar, and upright bass) to quartet vocal harmonies. As the genre developed, almost every bluegrass act included gospel on every album and show, and many artists specialized in the repertoire, which includes traditional hymns, African-American gospel songs, and original material.

Bluegrass music in general is a rich and wholesome American tradition, not widely-enough appreciated, and even as pop and country shift gears, bluegrass ticks on as a vital and traditional form, with a devoted if relatively small audience. It's a scene of virtuosity, and if you compared Earl Scruggs to Segovia, or Scotty Stoneman to Joshua Bell, you'd be in the right ballpark. Indeed, I've got a challenge for Bell: let's hear you play "Orange Blossom Special" at the same pace and with the same complexity, propulsion and joy as Stoneman.

Bluegrass also has some of the best singers working in any form: like Jamie Dailey, Russell Moore, Alison Krauss (who came from bluegrass), Junior Sisk, and Dale Ann Bradley. They've made the "high lonesome" Appalachian sound into something at once perfectly-performed and emotionally intense, both traditional and contemporary. Those harmonies will kill you. And redeem you.

Bluegrass has never stopped developing, and from a propulsive, somewhat rough, partly improvised form originating in Appalachia, it has become something perfectly crafted and ravishing, even as it maintains its continuity with the founding figures and material. It's less rough-hewn and rural than it once was, but it's even lovelier. Artists such as Junior Sisk and Rambler's Choice, IIIrd Tyme Out, Audie Blaylock and Redline, and Cody Shuler and Pine Mountain Railroad make beautiful traditional American music that's also fresh.

That's a defense of the genre. I'm a big bluegrass fan, and often find myself defensive. I've dragged skeptics to bluegrass festivals, strapped them in near the speaker on long car rides, and enthused extremely, often to little or negative effect. But I'm going to urge you to listen to a few songs, for this is the sound that will greet you as you ascend to the kingdom of God, who is a big fan of Doyle Lawson and Quicksilver.

I do think there is something distinctively compelling about art that is made from sincere religious devotion, whether it's a Buddhist temple, a painting by Duccio, or a gospel song by Sam Cooke or Shirley Caesar. Genuinely spiritual art is devoted not to the artist's ego, but to something outside the self. There's less preening, less narcissism; it's seeking after connection, forgiveness, or some larger reality to which the artist is yearning to connect. It's a way of dealing with pain, and above all it's a comfort in the face of death.

I was born and raised an atheist: both my parents were in-your-face religious skeptics. In my way, I've always been seeking something. Listening to this music—a lot, for a long time—and being profoundly moved by it, taught me to want to believe. And now I suppose I do, because of the music. That effect isn't achieved because the stuff is missionary propaganda, but because I experience it as an intense and sincere and beautiful personal and collective expression of devotion to something real, though I myself am still not sure exactly what that is.

Playlist: Some beautiful bluegrass gospel of the last couple of decades.

IIIrd Tyme Out: "Snow Angel," "Drifting Too Far From the Shore."

Dale Ann Bradley: "Pressed Through the Crowd."

Dry Branch Fire Squad: "Were You There?"

Dailey and Vincent: "By the Mark," "Family Bible," "Until at Last I'm Home."

Audie Blaylock and Redline: "Pray the Clouds Away," "Goodbye"

Alison Krauss and the Cox Family, "I Know Who Holds Tomorrow."

Hot Rize: "Working on a Building."

Doyle Lawson and Quicksilver: "He Made the Tree," "Hiding From the Storm Outside," "Beyond the Sunset," "Where No One Stands Alone."

Junior Sisk and Rambler's Choice: "The Lowest Valley"

Blueridge: "I'm Going Up When He Comes Down."

Cody Shuler and Pine Mountain Railroad: "Let's Meet By the River," "How Beautiful Heaven Must Be."

Patty Loveless: "Working on a Building."

Longview: "Angels are Singing in Heaven Tonight."

Grascals: "Did You Forget God Today?"

Irene Kelly: "Before You Call Me Home."

—Follow Crispin Sartwell on Twitter: @CrispinSartwell
 Crispin Sartwell tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21809 2017-06-19T07:00:00-04:00 2017-06-18T17:13:42-04:00 Hollyn Is More Woke Than Katy Perry
"Lovely" by Hollyn is a perfect pop song. Innocent yet profound, specific while archetypal, gorgeously sung and with a great chorus, it's perfect for the summer.

"Lovely" also gets right what more and more pop stars get wrong: great pop music is not about self-affirmation and liberation based on a faddish social justice theory, but about dependence, even obsession, with the love and affirmation of others, particularly a loved other. It's about slavery.

Brittney, Beyoncé, and Katy Perry all specialize in the girl-power anthem, and when mixed with liberal activism it's bad for decent rock 'n' roll. This is why Perry's new socially "woke" album Witness is so weak. "I feel very empowered," Perry gushed recently to The New York Times. "Extremely liberated, liberated from the conditioning of the way I used to think, spiritually liberated, politically liberated, sexually liberated, liberated from things that don't serve me."

Yet great pop music is about being enraptured by things that may or may not serve us. "Baby I Need Your Loving." "She Loves You." "Drunk in Love." "One." These are songs about the power others have over us. Great rock 'n' roll is not about social justice, it's about connecting with a higher power and abandoning yourself to someone or something else. It stands against political correctness and political movements and for what Aldous Huxley called "the monster of the obvious." "Almost all that is most daring in contemporary art is thus seen to be the fruit of terror," Huxley once wrote about self-directed modern art. "The terror, in an age of unprecedented vulgarity, of the obvious. The spectacle of so much fear-inspired boldness is one which I find rather depressing. If young artists really desire to offer proof of their courage they should attack the monster of obviousness and try to conquer it, try to reduce it to a state of artistic domestication, not timorously run away from it."

What makes the best pop music such a liberation is that it stands firm and reveals, and celebrates, the monster of the obvious. Men and women are different. Money is fun and sexy. Cars are cool. The word is enchanted. Most of all, love is a dynamic, transcendent reality that is more powerful than the physical world and that makes us lose ourselves. To feel that love we rely on an other, on God, or on both, not on ourselves. That's why Whitney Houston's ode to self, "The Greatest Love of All," is one of the worst songs ever written, and Bob Dylan's "To Make You Feel My Love," about total commitment to another, of one of the greatest.

Hollyn's "Lovely" is a gaze directly into the heart of the obvious. It sits between the degradation and cowardice of rap, which is easy, angry bluster, and the humorless liberal narcissism of go-girl pop. It describes a girl oppressed by what people say about her appearance, but finding deliverance when someone calls her "lovely." Lovely is a beautiful, old-fashioned, and tender word, carrying sensual and heavenly connotations, and the hook is pure bliss.

No I ain't even gonna fake it
 Don't wanna leave without no make-up
 This ain't made up
 When I ain't made up

Always wonderin' what they thinkin'
 So afraid of what they sayin'
 When I ain't fixed up
 Got me mixed up, no-no

Words are bouncin' 'round my head
 I can't stop their echoing (echoing)
 Trippin' on that negative

But You call me lovely
 You say I'm wonderfully made
 Your river floods me
 Your Words feel like a serenade

I love that You are thinkin' of me
 All those voices fade away
 When You call me lovely
 Lo-o-ovely

Hollyn is a Christian music artist. Born Holly Marie Miller in 1997, she sings a mixture of pop, R&B, and Christian music. She was a contestant on American Idol during season 12 and made it to the Hollywood rounds. But whether it's God, a Jungian universal archetype, or the contemplative mind of the universe, it's not Hollyn herself. She has the bravery to encounter the other who can control her fate. This girl is more "woke" than Katy Perry will ever be.

H.L. Mencken once called women "the greatest hazard a man will ever encounter." He added that it was "a puling and tacky fellow" who avoided the dangers of love "on the grounds that it has hazards." If Perry wants to be relevant, she'll stop talking about herself and start taking real risks. Any pop star, especially today, can virtue signal. It takes more to lead with your heart.
 Mark Judge tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21784 2017-06-13T07:00:00-04:00 2017-06-12T15:43:22-04:00 Does Yellow Submarine Provide Hope for Mankind?
When young I formed an ambition: to get high and watch Yellow Submarine. I've never managed it. Odd, considering. I suppose the roadblock was a shortage of Yellow Submarine tapes and discs; they were around, but maybe not at my local store. Now the movie can be watched on YouTube, a fact I should be grateful for. The movie came out 49 years ago, a confounding half century that has brought us to a pretty pass. Stupidity and fear seem to be in the saddle. People are watching their livelihoods disappear, and they think the government's a joke. But turn on your computer and you can see Yellow Submarine whenever you want. Anybody, at will, can be exposed to playfulness, inventiveness, beauty, intelligence, and compassion.

The Beatles wrote their songs. A man named George Dunning oversaw 200 artists (per Wikipedia), a fellow named Heinz Edelmann served as art director, and there resulted an hour-plus of animated film that lived up to the Beatles' music. Then the Internet happened. For any of these things to take place would be remarkable. The three of them? We're on a streak.

Meanwhile, our civic life is such a mess that—in the U.S., anyway—it looks like it might collapse. The public has debauched itself. But the good and bad, the Beatles and Trump, come as a bundle. Technology and democracy have given muscle to prole taste, hierarchies of taste have been subverted. The Baby Boomers, those assholes, kicked over proper ideas of music, grooming, and sexual comportment when young, and now they've done the same to political discourse and the selection of leaders. In either case, what's been on display has been the Self. A couple of young men were set loose with millions of dollars' worth of recording equipment, which they could use in accord with whatever idea of musicality crossed their minds. The results (on the whole) were beautiful to a historic degree, and they were disseminated around the world by further technology. Trump, by contrast, has been an embarrassment. But "set loose" applies to him too, and technology made him the phenomenon he is. Without cable and Twitter, he'd be a bore at a dinner party. Instead he's a pop sensation.

Don't take this lying down. Find the good side of our situation. George Dunning, Heinz Edelmann, and the Beatles make up for a lot. If the world doesn't end in the next 20 years, we'll have made it to an era where beauty and originality can flourish like never before. And, if you'll forgive me, I'll now fulfill a long-standing ambition.

Best Beatles songs. As of this writing, they'd appear to be "Hey Bulldog," "I Am the Walrus," "Please Please Me," "Twist and Shout," "Everybody Has Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey," "And Your Bird Can Sing," "I Want to Hold Your Hand," Baby, You're a Rich Man," "I'm Only Sleeping," "Your Mother Should Know," "Happiness Is a Warm Gun," and "I've Just Seen a Face." Updates may be posted.

—Follow C.T. May on Twitter: @CTMay3
 C.T. May tag:www.splicetoday.com,2005:Post/21768 2017-06-08T10:17:51-04:00 2017-06-08T10:17:51-04:00 New York Magazine, Let's Discuss Your Ranking of Beatles Tunes
What's the best Beatles song? It isn't "A Day in the Life," though Bill Wyman, writing for New York magazine, says it is. What's the worst? Not "Good Day Sunshine," a jolly tune benefiting from fine harmonies and instrumentation. Perhaps a comma in the title might have persuaded New York to cut the number some slack. "Even by McCartney standards ('Getting Better,' 'Hello Goodbye') the title is inane," we're told. The magazine, feeling larky, proceeds: "It could have been 'Yum Food Delicious,' or 'Hot Sex Baby,' or any other three random words McCartney took out of his Young Man's Collection of Positive Synonyms—and note that of these three choices McCartney chose the blandest." But the song says hello to the sunshine. Listen to it. Good day, sunshine. Usually "good day" means goodbye, of course, but it's close enough for rock. In addition, the words go together nicely. "Hot Sex Baby" might work as something, but not as the chorus of this song. "Yum Food Delicious" would be an early 1980s number by some wise guys with course credit in performance art. Bits of dialogue by Japanese women would play in the background.

I take New York's arguments too seriously. "All 213 Beatles Songs, Ranked From Worst to Best," says the headline. No, there won't be solid reasons for why a given song ("Love You To") is in slot 74 and another ("Things We Said Today") is in slot 73. The 213 pieces had to fall somewhere, and here's how they landed. On another day they might have landed otherwise. Except for "Good Day Sunshine." The list, theoretically, proceeds from worst to best. "Mr. Moonlight" or "You Know My Name (Look Up My Number)" would make for a dull kick-off. Instead a crowd pleaser—a Paul crowd pleaser—must get it in the neck. Hence "Sunshine" in 213.

Choosing "A Day in the Life" as number one signals some good things: an absence of anti-Pepper revisionism, respect for the innovative song-writing and production that helped the Beatles remake popular music. Still, "Day" isn't the Beatles' best song. Yes, it aims to be a momentous, groundbreaking experience, and instead of being hollow and self-important it actually hits its target. That means the song counts as a masterpiece. But it isn't the Beatles' best masterpiece. "I Am the Walrus" might be, and I might try to find some reasons as to why except that New York, in discussing the power of "Day," says the following: "Holes are souls, which often have their own holes, and what are we all but holes in the universe, each with our own holes that allow us to live and eventually kill us?" Go away, you're laughing at me.

All right, reason doesn't apply here. Let's lay down some principles and adhere to them blindly: most of the best songs will have Lennon vocals; being upbeat and nonsensical isn't a drawback (so we're allowed to enjoy "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da"); the early songs have a beautiful inventiveness and brio; the middle songs have an assured sort of daring that delights as it challenges; the late songs show a chaotic, desperate search for sensation, a search that results in some duds but a high number of fractured, compelling gems. Finally, a Beatles song can be hypnotically beautiful without meaning much, and most of George's songs are dull. Wait, one more: any song that thrilled me when I first heard it remains thrilling now.

Applying these principles, we can agree that the top 10 will start with "I Am the Walrus," continue with "Please Please Me," and definitely contain "Twist and Shout," "Everybody Has Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey," and "I've Just Seen a Face." The bottom 10 will include "Something," "Within You Without You," "The Inner Light," "Till There Was You," the aforementioned "Mr. Moonlight" and "You Know My Name (Look Up My Number)." Startling many, "Blue Jay Way" will break the Harrison curse by finishing in the top 70. McCartney's winsome elegy "Your Mother Should Know" will be in the top 40, and the Lennon-McCartney "Baby You're a Rich Man" in the top 30. "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" will be 73. And "Good Day Sunshine"? A respectable 85, even without the comma.

—Follow C.T. May on Twitter: @CTMay3
 C.T. May


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subset: commoncrawl


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Home ownership is quite rewarding. It means you get to incorporate your own personality into a home. Make sure you choose what improvements you want to make. The tips provided here can help you make those ideas a reality.
If you plan to redo your roof, use light colored tile. This will reflect a lot of the heat and will keep your attic cooler. Simple tips like the color of your roof can add up to big savings over the lifetime of a roof.
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If you are a long time home owner, then you may want to change up the look of your home to give it a new vibe. The tips from this article will help you on your home improvement journey.


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Barbaric meaning
While ogres excel in strength, they are also rather slow-witted; this doesn't mean that they should be underestimated however, since they can possess a surprisingly brutal cunning. Still, most ogres are best suited to melee clobbering, though the two-headed ones are proficient in the mystical arts as shamans, magi and priests.
wow // death of a warrior
Free lapbook, printables and unit study for homeschoolers. Barbarians as we use the term today had a very different meaning than to Greeks.
750 BC to 12 BC,Celts were the most powerful people in central & northern Europe.Wave after wave,they spread outwards,taking over France,Belgium,& crossing to Britain.There were many tribes of Celts,speaking a vaguely common language.Celt comes from the Greek,Keltoi,which means barbarians & is properly pronounced as "Kelt". Celt is a term NOT used until the 18th century.The Romans called these people Britons.The Celtic Iron Age ended AD43 (43 years after Jesus was born)the Romans invaded…
This photo shows no individual rights and no freedom, but it shows the rule of law as opposed to rule of man, as you can see opposite the small boy, the man with all of the power. Capitalism, is nothing but greed and money, a successful business in poverty all over the world, benefiting no one but the leaders.
Now this is some proper female armor. I mean, don't get me wrong, I like a chainmail bikini as much as the next guy, but this is for real.
Welfare dictionary definition #welfare, #online #dictionary, #thesaurus, #dictionary, #welfare #definition, #definition #of #welfare, #define #welfare, #welfare #meaning, #websters, #synonyms, #pronunciation, #usage #examples, #quotes http://oklahoma.remmont.com/welfare-dictionary-definition-welfare-online-dictionary-thesaurus-dictionary-welfare-definition-definition-of-welfare-define-welfare-welfare-meaning-websters-synonyms-pronun/ Sentence Examples Weller turned to Dean, "I thought you…
It just means she belongs to the the fraction of blue don't go pissing them off either I'll add it to the list
DANU (DANA) - The Goddess of Rivers, Water, Wells, Magic. A Triple Goddess, which means she is able to take the form of the Maiden, the Mother or the Crone, and a Divine Lady who is the essence of the earth, the air and the essence of water, Danu is able to embody the form/energy suited the situation. Here she brings the power of versatility and teaches us to honor and respect diversity within ourselves and within others and reminds us to honor each stage of our physical life.
Another coloured doodle of some guy with a sword standing around in the snow trying to look tough.
Lasse L. Matberg (lasselom on Instagram) <3
The CO's belt
The universe was not created in a week; Noah did not build an ark and load it with every species of flora and fauna; etc. If you find something wholesome and useful in the Bible (ex: love one another), USE it, by all means. Just don't shove the rest of it on all of us.
Brunton Turret Hadrians Wall, Northumberland, England by Roger Clegg
If you try to pin down music's arms to gain access to its heart, you will be defeated. For music is about moments. One breath of a breeze through the trees. One lap of a wave onto the shore. One sentence in a whole novel. Music is about moments. We should be so lucky to be its explorers.


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Create an Account - Increase your productivity, customize your experience, and engage in information you care about.
On Tuesday, August 1, at 5pm, the Itasca Police Department invites residents and businesses alike to join us for our annual National Night Out.This event will take place at the grounds of the Municipal Complex, 550 West Irving Park Road.
Itasca Night Out is an opportunity for the police department and the community to heighten crime and drug prevention awareness, generate support for, and participation in, local anticrime programs, strengthen neighborhood spirit and police-community partnerships and send a message to criminals by letting them know that neighborhoods are organized and fighting back. As part of our festivities, we have arranged interactive activities with the Itasca Fire Protection District, the Library, Park District, Public Utilities, Public Works, and of course the Itasca Police Department. Complementary hamburgers, hot dogs and ice cream have been donated by area restaurants and businesses. All of Itasca is invited and encouraged to attend. For further information please contact the Itasca Police Department.


text: Close FBI: Here's what Tenn. teacher accused of abducting student did on the run Anita Wadhwani, USA TODAY NETWORK - Tennessee , WTSP 4:26 PM. EDT May 13, 2017 CONNECT TWEET LINKEDIN GOOGLE+ PINTEREST Click here if you do not see the article © Gannett Co., Inc. 2017. All Rights Reserved CONNECT TWEET LINKEDIN GOOGLE+ PINTEREST JOIN THE CONVERSATION To find out more about Facebook commenting please read the Conversation Guidelines and FAQs Leave a Comment TRENDING VIDEOS JSO officer recovering after being shot during chase; suspect dead Shot down, captured, escaped: Jacksonville WWII vet says he's still owed $13 FWC releases video of shark being dragged behind boat 82-year-old attacked, left for dead Coming soon: New look, security features for Florida licenses JSO officer shot in chin, kills robbery suspect, convicted felon Jaguars Dante Fowler apologies after arrest Police investigate triple shooting near gas station on Golfair, at least one dead Jacksonville-bound flight delayed over ferret. Town Center expands: What's opening and when More Stories Ga. Gully Washer Jan 27, 2016, 5:58 a.m. Study finds chemicals in First Coast drinking water… Jul 26, 2017, 3:19 p.m. 4 structure fires reported in east Arlington Jul 26, 2017, 8:15 p.m.


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|1v1 Commander
|Magic Duels
|Duel Commander
|Commander / EDH
Printings View all
|Hour of Devastation
Combos Browse all
Desert of the Indomitable
Land — Desert
Desert of the Indomitable enters the battlefield tapped.
T: Add G to your mana pool.
Cycling 1G (1G, Discard this card: Draw a card.)
Price & Acquistion Set Price Alerts
Recent Decks
Desert of the Indomitable Discussion
michael921 on Cat deck
18 hours ago
So first of all, TheTinyViking, you can just comment on this thread that you've updated the deck and I'll should see the comment :P
On to commentary...
I think that the deck is looking much better, with actual payoffs for going cat tribal. However, you can still make some upgrades I think. If you don't mind being in topdeck mode for a large portion of the game, that's fine, but it's generally not a good place to be. I would try to find space for cards like Mouth / Feed, Harmonize, or Rishkar's Expertise, with harmonize probably being the most powerful as it's good even if you're behind while the other two aren't.
Finally, your land base could use some upgrades. Scattered Groves, Blossoming Sands, Canopy Vista, Fortified Village, Graypelt Refuge, Stirring Wildwood, Temple of Plenty and Sunpetal Grove are all just actually better than the current tap lands you have in your deck, and Gavony Township, Grove of the Guardian, Desert of the True, and Desert of the Indomitable also all provide additional utility.
I would probably recommend Scattered Groves, Stirring Wildwood, and one of the following: Fortified Village, Temple of Plenty, or Sunpetal Grove as twelve of your lands, with each as four ofs, but aren't needed for budget reasons. For utility lands, you don't NEED any of them for budget reasons, but some mixture of them would provide your deck with more to do in the late game. That being said, no matter what, I would increase the number of white sources in the deck, in order to enable a WW spell on turn two.
SlyBlu7 on Draft League N00B, HELP!
2 days ago
Hey guys - just entered a draft league. They let us pick up 4 packs to start (2 ANK, 2 HOU) and build 30 card decks from there. I think I got the short end of the pulls. Especially when I look at the awesome (frustratingly so) pulls that my GF got, who is even more of a newbie to the game. Anyway, this is what I put together:
Creatures Frilled Sandwalla , Hapatra, Vizier of Poisons, Naga Vitalist, Dune Beetle , Wretched Camel, Ruin Rat, Bitterblade Warrior , Sidewinder Naga , Ornery Kudu , Giant Spider , Bitterbow Sharpshooters
Spells Compelling Argument, Gift of Strength , Synchronized Strike , Splendid Agony, Cartouche of Ambition, Torment of Venom
Artifacts Traveler's Amulet, Bontu's Monument, Oketra's Monument
Land Ipnu Rivulet, Desert of the Glorified, Desert of the Indomitable, Grasping Dunes,1Island, 4Forest, 2Swamp
The idea that I had was to go BG for tossing -1/-1 with Vizier, and having some creatures and pumps. Splashed U for milling.
What else did I pull? Garbage, I think. White was especially thin, which is sad because it's one of my favorite colors.
White Mighty Leap , Oketra's Avenger , Forsake the Worldly , Dauntless Aven , Sandblast
Blue Strategic Planning, Spellweaver Eternal, Labyrinth Guardian , Ancient Crab , Eternal of Harsh Truths, Tragic Lesson, Illusory Wrappings , Shimmerscale Drake , Striped Riverwinder, Open Into Wonder
Black Liliana's Defeat, Shadow of the Grave, Doomfall, Razaketh, the Foulblooded
Red Crash Through, Pathmaker Initiate, Nef-Crop Entangler , Blur of Blades, Open Fire, Pursue Glory , Manticore Eternal , Hazoret's Undying Fury, Desert Cerodon
Aftermath Onward / Victory
Land Sunscorched Desert, Shefet Dunes
Now, my list of cards is recorded at the store, so I can change the deck but obviously cannot add any cards from elsewhere. I'm wondering if I shouldn't have featured Red in the deck, maybe just cut my losses and went RG to keep it simple. Can anyone help me out? It's fairly casual, but I don't really want to get my head caved in for the next two months of MtG.Thanks in advance for any help you can offer!
Xinofos on Hombrew U/G ramp
3 days ago
Cheers for the advise. I think for now I'll go for the 2/4/6 ramp. Mainly cause there is no 1 drop ramp (which makes me sad). Also worked on the lands, with a lot of Cycling and Scrying i don't there there is too much of a need for Evolving Wilds, though I may be wrong. considering moving the Greater Sandwurm for a pair of Hour of Promise, and if I do, will leave the 1-off Hostile desert as a fetch.
Also looking towards next format now, so going to avoid card that will rotate soon. Vizier dropped for Walking Ballista, as the ballista is a better mana sink.
So overall, edits are:-4 Ramunap Excavator -4 Beneath the Sands-4 Evolving Wilds-1 Vizier of the Menagerie-1 Ipnu Rivulet-1 Hostile Desert
+4 Oasis Ritualist+4 Bounty of the Luxa+2 Desert of the Indomitable+2 Desert of the Mindful+1 Island+1 Walking Ballista+1 Hashep Oasis
Entari0 on ALL IS SACRIFICE EDH
3 days ago
Thanks for you feedback, Hansenl! Cabal Coffers is mainly not there because, at the moment, between starting school in a week and not having very much money to spend right now, I have not been buying more cards, and it is not a particularly inexpensive card on its own. That said, I definitely want to at least try it in the deck. My main fear is that, with a grand total of 7 cards with swamp on the type line without Urborg in play, it may make me a threat without gaining me a particularly large lead. If I add it, I will certainly consider Hour of Promise.
As for Ramunap Excavator, he is already in the 99.
I agree, Amonkhet's deserts are probably a good idea, but I am not particularly fond of them. Other than potentially Hour of Promise, I do not have any desert synergies, so the desert on the type line doesn't gain me that much. for that reason, Desert of the Indomitable and Desert of the Glorified are simply worse than the other cycling lands, as they cost one of their associated color and one generic to cycle, whereas the others cost either 2 generic or one of their associated color. The two spell deserts, Ifnir Deadlands and Hashep Oasis rely on other deserts to function, and their abilities are frankly somewhat lack luster, particularly because they can only be used as sorceries. This brings us to the first two you mentioned, Hostile Desert, a manland, and Dunes of the Dead. of them, I think the dunes are the strongest in the deck, because, despite my not using other deserts, it does not loose any of its utility, and if I use it, it will be sacrificed frequently. Hostile Desert, on the other hand, is anti-synergistic to the deck, as I want my lands in my graveyard to be available at all times, not in exile.
Hansenl on Advertise your COMMANDER deck!
3 days ago
Superfriends! is my deck I would love some feedback on. Any advice helps.
Entari0 I love the deck! I agree with your assessment of cutting Rune-Scarred Demon. I would generally run that if blinking was possible. With Hour of Devastation released, I would consider adding Cabal Coffers + Hour of Promise since you already run Urborg, Tomb of Yawgmoth. Ramunap Excavator seems to be an auto-include but correct me if I'm wrong. You seem to be able to synergize well with deserts so I believe that Hostile Desert, Dunes of the Dead, Desert of the Glorified, Desert of the Indomitable, Ifnir Deadlands, and Hashep Oasis all deserve a good look at getting into the deck.
I also put this as a comment on your deck's page.
Hansenl on ALL IS SACRIFICE EDH
3 days ago
Entari0 I love the deck! I agree with your assessment of cutting Rune-Scarred Demon. I would generally run that if blinking was possible. With Hour of Devastation released, I would consider adding Cabal Coffers + Hour of Promise since you already run Urborg, Tomb of Yawgmoth. Ramunap Excavator seems to be an auto-include but correct me if I'm wrong. You seem to be able to synergize well with deserts so I believe that Hostile Desert, Dunes of the Dead, Desert of the Glorified, Desert of the Indomitable, Ifnir Deadlands, and Hashep Oasis all deserve a good look at getting into the deck. Overall though, nice work!
Toxic5pikes on Jund Torment
5 days ago
I did some testing with Hour of Promise. It seems that 8 deserts is about the right number to have in your deck so that you draw at least one early, which will get you the 2 zombies by fetching 2 more deserts with Hour of Promise. I think something like 3 Desert of the Indomitable, 3 Desert of the Fervent, 2 Desert of the Glorified will make Hour of Promise work perfectly. If your taking the energy out, you can drop the Aether Hub to make room, or you could just go all out on the energy and make a Jund energy deck. Maybe throw in Dynavolt Tower to get more out of Unlicensed Disintegration.
Kittus on You Remember That Censor I Cycled...
1 week ago
Yep Zooby9, gonna have to playtest more to get to the perfect mana base. Btw you added Desert of the Indomitable instead of Desert of the Glorified :p


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2725 Oakleaf Cir., Helena, AL 35022
- $274,500
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Estimate Your Monthly Payment
Data provided by Informa Research Services. Payments do not include amounts for taxes and insurance premiums. The actual payment obligation will be greater if taxes and insurance are included. Click here for more information on rates and product details.
- Mortgage Center
- Beds: 4
- Baths: 4 Full, 1 Half
- Single Family Home
Gorgeous home in the prestigious Silver Lakes subdivision. Beautiful hardwoods and all brand new carpet throughout. Walls have been freshly painted. Newly installed pendulum lights in the kitchen. Tons of upgrades!! WOW!! This is like getting a brand new home. Not many homes in Silver Lakes offer 4 bedrooms and 4 1/2 bathrooms. Trey ceilings and beautiful recess lighting. Master is on the main level features a huge bedroom with a large sitting area. Bathroom has a jetted tub, double vanity, separate shower and walk in closet. Half bathroom is on the main level. 3 large bedrooms upstairs with 2 full baths. Large eat in kitchen with island and all stainless steel appliances. Great room with fabulous marble fire place . the foyer is over 21 foot tall to make a grand entrance. Fully finished huge basement with full bathroom. Beautiful landscaped front yard with marvelous curb appeal. Super large back yard with screened in patio. Walking trails, club house and lake fishing WELCOME HOME! Click here to learn more about this listing.
- Single Family Home
- Beds: 4
- Baths: 4 Full, 1 Half
Listing Details
- Master Bathroom
- Whirlpool
- Attic
- Yes
- Basement
- Yes
- Appliances
- Compactor, Cooktop-Electric, Dishwasher, Disposal, Freezer, Icemaker, Microwave, Range, Refrigerator
- Flooring
- Carpeted, Vinyl, Wood
- Features
- Brick Exterior, Deck, Vinyl Exterior
- Cooling
- Central Air, Central Cooling, Central Heat Pump
- Heating
- Electric, Furnace Heat
- Assessed Taxable Amount
- $26,660
- Tax Amount
- $1,416
- Last Transaction Date
- 07/03/2008
- Last Transaction Purchase Price
- $255,000
- Property Type
- Single Family Residence
- Bedrooms
- 4
- Bathrooms
- 2
- Rooms
- 7
- Floors
- 2
- Home Size (Sqft)
- 2,900
- Year Built
- 2002
- Units
- 1
- Fireplace
- Pre Fab
- Heating System
- Forced Air
- Cooling System
- Central Air
- Exterior Type
- Vinyl
Public Facts: As provided by County Assessor and Recorder offices. May not reflect recent additions or improvements. If you see any errors, the best way to get the records updated is to contact your local county records office. If any of the information in this section conflicts with property information provided by a listing agent or broker, agent-provided information should be deemed more reliable.
Local Info
| Median Household Income
| Median Years In Residence
| Median Homeowner Age
| Households with Children
| Percent of Homes Rented
Nearby Elementary Schools
- South Shades Crest Elementary School
- 3770 S Shades Crest Rd
- Greenwood Elementary School
- 1219 School Rd Se
- Greenwood Elementary School
- 5012 Roselyn Rd
Nearby Middle Schools
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- 1919 Highway 52
- Helena Middle School
- 1299 Hillsboro Pkwy
- Mcadory Middle School
- 5450 Yellow Jacket Blvd
Nearby High Schools
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- 831 Eastern Valley Rd
Nearby Other Schools
- Hoover High Freshman Center
- 6055 Fleming Pkwy
These are the closest schools to your requested location. Proximity does not guarantee enrollment eligibility. Please consult your real estate agent or school district to confirm the schools you are zoned to attend.
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