quarterly music post
"Eclipse (All Yours)" - Metric
Despite being anti-all things Twilight, I have adored the big radio song from each of the three movies released thus far. "Decode", by Paramore, from Twilight, is an intense piece that's fun to howl along to. "Meet Me on the Equinox", by Death Cab, from New Moon, is an elegant and evocative song that showcases all the things that band does well. And now Eclipse "(All Yours)" by Metric, though I believe the "theme" was written by Howard Shore. Emily Haines of Metric has one of the loveliest voices in current pop music, I love the last Metric album for its moodiness and glittering sound, and this song evokes the same feeling. Her bell-like falsetto makes the song work on an utterly haunting level.
And iTunes won't sell the song without the entire Eclipse soundtrack. I pouted about it on FB and Twitter, was admonished to try Limewire, and then tried to forget about it. Until we hit a used CD store in London last weekend and my friend squintt found it for a decent price. Whereupon I promptly sucked it up and bought it. I figured there had to be at least a few other decent songs I would like on it, and I was mostly right. I like the Bravery song "Ours" and the Black Keys' "Chop and Change" well enough, but neither is transcendent must-have music for me. But the Metric song - I needed it.
"Village Green Preservation Society" - Kate Rusby
A Kinks cover that is so charming and fun and adorable, it's almost too twee to bear. But it walks the line nicely, and we can't get enough of it. It makes me smile each time I hear it, and the lyrics are as relevant now as they ever were.
"The Ballad of Ian Curtis" - Luke Doucet
The new single from Luke's Steel City Trawler album, which I won free off CBC Radio 2 a couple of weeks ago, awesomely. It's inspired by his view ing of both movies about the late Joy Division singer, and he apparently wrote it while running one day. The hook-y guitar/piano line in it is utterly addictive, and the only thing wrong with the song is that it's too short.
"Little Lion Man" - Mumford & Sons
I know I'm nearly a year late to this song, but it is truly one of the best uses for a banjo I've ever heard. The chorus is satisfyingly heavy on my favourite curse word, and the melody is stunning, rousing, catchy and fun while the lyrics are heartbreaking. Excellent counterpoint.
"Careless"/"Washington"- Sarah Harmer
The highlight of the new album Oh Little Fire is this two-song stretch dead in the middle of it. The songs could not be less alike, and yet I cannot pick a favourite. They're both songs about having screwed up in a relationship, but while one seems hopeful (all the words that I've held too close to my chest/arecalling on me now to get through) the other knows it's way too late to fix things (Well I didn't go to Washington/and you'll be almost there by now). The best bit of "Careless", though, is the tiny bridge, where the warm, lonely, always-on-pitch voice of Ms. Harmer croons longlingly "I'll be hollering out the words that I meant to use" like she's Christine McVie in the late seventies.
Despite being anti-all things Twilight, I have adored the big radio song from each of the three movies released thus far. "Decode", by Paramore, from Twilight, is an intense piece that's fun to howl along to. "Meet Me on the Equinox", by Death Cab, from New Moon, is an elegant and evocative song that showcases all the things that band does well. And now Eclipse "(All Yours)" by Metric, though I believe the "theme" was written by Howard Shore. Emily Haines of Metric has one of the loveliest voices in current pop music, I love the last Metric album for its moodiness and glittering sound, and this song evokes the same feeling. Her bell-like falsetto makes the song work on an utterly haunting level.
And iTunes won't sell the song without the entire Eclipse soundtrack. I pouted about it on FB and Twitter, was admonished to try Limewire, and then tried to forget about it. Until we hit a used CD store in London last weekend and my friend squintt found it for a decent price. Whereupon I promptly sucked it up and bought it. I figured there had to be at least a few other decent songs I would like on it, and I was mostly right. I like the Bravery song "Ours" and the Black Keys' "Chop and Change" well enough, but neither is transcendent must-have music for me. But the Metric song - I needed it.
"Village Green Preservation Society" - Kate Rusby
A Kinks cover that is so charming and fun and adorable, it's almost too twee to bear. But it walks the line nicely, and we can't get enough of it. It makes me smile each time I hear it, and the lyrics are as relevant now as they ever were.
"The Ballad of Ian Curtis" - Luke Doucet
The new single from Luke's Steel City Trawler album, which I won free off CBC Radio 2 a couple of weeks ago, awesomely. It's inspired by his view ing of both movies about the late Joy Division singer, and he apparently wrote it while running one day. The hook-y guitar/piano line in it is utterly addictive, and the only thing wrong with the song is that it's too short.
"Little Lion Man" - Mumford & Sons
I know I'm nearly a year late to this song, but it is truly one of the best uses for a banjo I've ever heard. The chorus is satisfyingly heavy on my favourite curse word, and the melody is stunning, rousing, catchy and fun while the lyrics are heartbreaking. Excellent counterpoint.
"Careless"/"Washington"- Sarah Harmer
The highlight of the new album Oh Little Fire is this two-song stretch dead in the middle of it. The songs could not be less alike, and yet I cannot pick a favourite. They're both songs about having screwed up in a relationship, but while one seems hopeful (all the words that I've held too close to my chest/arecalling on me now to get through) the other knows it's way too late to fix things (Well I didn't go to Washington/and you'll be almost there by now). The best bit of "Careless", though, is the tiny bridge, where the warm, lonely, always-on-pitch voice of Ms. Harmer croons longlingly "I'll be hollering out the words that I meant to use" like she's Christine McVie in the late seventies.