Mystery of Two. Mystery of Two. Exit Stencil Records, 2009.

I thought I would send out another salvo to Exit Stencil Records. I guess I just like the music that they're putting out. I ran across Mystery of Two's CD a few months ago, and I've been enjoying it frequently. It's been out about a year. The group is actually a trio, with Ryan Weitzel on guitar and vocals, Jeff Deasy, bass and backing vocals, and Nick Riley, drums (Why do music critics always put the drummer last? We're so predictable.). The band has a good hard edge in the post-punk vein, and has fine rhythmic sense. Weitzel's vocals remind me of David Byrne of Talking Heads, and some of the tracks wouldn't be out of place on their earliest albums. He also plays an excellent guitar, mixing several styles into his own unique sound--punk, psychedelic, and even a touch of surf here and there. Deasy and Riley also do a great job, driving the music forward in powerful strokes. In all, an excellent release, that I recommend you get ahold of.

http://www.myspace.com/mysteryoftwo

Flea Markets as Scrounging Sources

Flea markets are wonderful places for scrounging. One can find bargains of almost any kind, including items that libraries might find interesting and useful. They’re also hot, dusty, and to get the best stuff you have to go early in the morning before the bulk of the buying crowd gets there. I’ve always had that ambivalent feeling about them--punishment for the hope of reward. I guess it fits with my Puritan heritage.

I seldom buy books at flea markets anymore. Often they are dirty, beaten up, and more expensive than I’d like. More importantly, the selection is often limited to acres of paperback fiction, most of which does not appeal. In fact, paper items in general are a losing proposition, since they often sit for hours in the hot sun, fading and gathering parking lot dirt. Sheet music is better found in antique malls where the climate is more suitable. Record albums, if one wants them, are plentiful, but most libraries don’t care about them anymore (I think this is a shame). As with paper, condition is a problem, and I don’t usually pick up anything unless it’s something unusual that I may never see again. I think my last purchase was a album of Finnish-American music by Viola Turpeinen, who I read about in Victor Greene’s A Passion for Polka. Born in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, she played button box accordion through all the Finnish communities and lumber camps in the North Country. I love this kind of stuff.

Usually I look for CDs. They are less likely to be ruined by flea market conditions and if your tastes are eclectic enough, you are likely to find something. I seldom spend more than $3.00 per item, and generally look for those priced $1-2.00. I occasionally find them for much less. Once I ran across a booth where a fellow was selling CDs that he must have picked up in a batch from some remainder store, as they had price stickers of $1.00, but he was selling them for 50 cents. As I began working through the piles I started finding some unusual items--Native American music, Latin CDs, and other items I wasn’t likely to find anywhere for the price. After I had piled up a couple dozen, the proprietor turned to me and said, “Oh, if you’re going to buy a lot, take them for 25 cents each.” Frenzy ensued, and I ended up with 56 CDs. Narcocorridos from Northern Mexico, harmonized Peyote songs, hammered dulcimer music, New Jack Swing, Broadway tunes, and I can’t recall what else. “Yes, Doctor Fever, I have a problem.”

Review of

HotChaCha. The World’s Hardest Working Telescope & the Violent Birth of Stars.

Exit Stencil Records.

I don’t often write about contemporary rock music. Much of it escapes me (I go more for jazz and folk music these days), and I miss a lot. When I search for comparisons the way all good music critics are supposed to, I am usually several generations removed from the inspirations that likely reflect those of the artists. But, we'll give it a try anyway.

I chose HotChaCha because I enjoy what they are doing. The band consists of four young women, Jovana Batkovic, vocalist, Mandy Aramouni, guitar and keyboards, Heather Gmucs, bass, and Lisa Paulovein, drums. They rock hard, with lots of energy, play what they’ve written effectively, and set a mood that seems right for them—romantic, forceful, edgy, with an air of tragedy. Based on their web site and bio, one could also include an element of deliberate eroticism, but of an adult rather than adolescent sort. I am especially impressed by Batkovic’s emotion-filled voice (she sings in more than one language, so the lyrics aren’t always obvious) and the fuzzy/clean guitar lines of Aramouni. It’s clear that they are informed by punk and post-punk sensibilities, but with an overlay that reminds me of the New Romantic movement of the early 1980s. I hear Chrissie Hynde, Siouxsie Sioux, garage rock extending back for decades, and a host of other predecessors who may or may not be important to them, but they are to me. There’s not a bad song among the eleven that they dish up, and the music holds up to repeated listening. Consistency like that is not so common. Put this one in the car and turn it up.