6am Repeat is a recurring feature here at Folk Hive in which we stream the latest track that plays incessantly in the earbuds when we awake at that hour and imbibe massive amounts of coffee and cigarettes in preparation for the advancing day. Consider it your jam of the day — a sweet, sweet gift from me to you. I love you, dude.
Yesterday we had a lesson about a man named named Neal Casal. This morning, I shall piggyback off myself and point you towards a band called Tall Tales and the Silver Lining. I do this because, at one point, said band was lucky enough to have Casal sit in on guitar, specifically for the song you’re about to hear. I’m also doing this because I really dig this band. Featured once, it just wasn’t enough.
If this isn’t the best song ever written for that night when you come home alone from the bar, after having imbibed just a tad too much, and wished that the population of your bed was more than one, well. I don’t know what is.
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Tall Tales and the Silver Lining :: Piece of You [stream]
I don’t care who you are, if you dig music you unconciously maintain a list of artists in your head. That list is labeled “The Un-Fucking-Touchables”. That list includes artists that have touched you and whose specific arrangements shall never be fucked with, lest they change your perception of that song that moved your life.
So when wind of a compilation of Neil Young covers by the likes of Teen Daze, Ghost Animal, and Quilt hit my face, I blew it off. This is what happens when one gets all elistest about shit, ya’ll. The difference between this compilation and say, one that simply presents covers with no heart, no movement of their own, is that this thing can stand up on it’s own merits. These are not merely covers. These are completely different takes, jams that no longer resemble the originals, and simply seem to borrow some words in an effort of making a new kind of tune that will move a new kind of people in a way the original never did. I can dig that.
This is not better than Neil, mind you. Nothing is (this includes cigarettes and sex, I SHIT YOU NOT). But it is different and it is worth your time, regardless of the level of your own personal degree of Neil love. I’m not saying every one of these jams is breaking new territory or even worth keeping in your media player after download, but there are some serious gems in that there .zip file.
Dudes, you all should fucking know by now that I love me some banjo and ergo, I love me some Big Snow Big Thaw.
So, listen to this shit. The other week (I don’t fucking know when, get off me about it!), these two fellows, one @jwstone and one @CodyJCaudill, over there on the Twitter, recommended that there should be such as thing as #BanjoSundays. Yes, there should. To wit. It’s Sunday. Here is a jam with a badass banjo line.
Here at the Hive, we heart mail. Mailbag is a recurring feature in which we hip you to artists seeking play via our email inbox.
I’ve lamented (shit, need different word there) the awesomeness of Mount Moriah before, here, but the arrival of ‘Lament’ in my inbox yesterday takes that awesomeness to a whole new level. While I’ll admit that I’m typically drawn to music first by, well, the music, this jam took hold of me with the words. If this will be anything, let it be over. Yeah, man. Fronted by Heather McEntire, formerly of punk outfit Bellafea — seriously listen to this woman and put that voice at the helm of a punk band, SHIT — and starring a bit of guesting by members of Megafaun, St Vincent, etc., I suspect that the self-titled album featuring ‘Lament’ is pretty much rad.
I lamented to a pal this morning that morning that there has been no music in my veins these past two weeks. Is it writer’s block? Lack of sun? THEN END OF THE FUCKING WORLD AS WE KNOW IT?! Who fucking knows, ya’ll. I’ve no doubt I’ll shortly return to my old ways, blowing off life and responsibility to instead search for this year’s best jams and depressed singer/songwriters but until then, Bits & Pieces.
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I wish commentary was my strong suit. Until I actually return to college where I’d surely learn to piece together coherent thoughts, I highly suggest this piece by Matt Carr over at Everybody Taste. I’m not one of those riding the Pitchfork Blows Ass bandwagon but I certainly wouldn’t rely on them as a music tastemaker, personally. But one cannot deny that bands like Dawes, perhaps one of the greatest I’ve heard this past decade deserves the attention of all rock writer’s and for some reason, Pitchfork choses to arbitrarily deny it.
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This. I would typically balk at a Skinny Love cover, as I’m one of those assholes who truly believes that it’s one of the best songs written and performed in the past 20 years, AT FUCKING LEAST, but when Justin Vernon recommends, I’ll listen. Plus, chick is 14. What the shit?! When I was 14 I was not near badass enough to be listening to shit like Bon Iver. Regardless. You can find this on iTunes I believe but I hate that moneysucker, don’t use it, so search it out on your own. I can’t do everything for you.
Dudes, I HAVE NOT ABANDONED YE. Work kicked my balls this week (is still doing so, in fact, despite that I should be off right now) and music was not even on my brain. What a sad state of affairs. Regardless, life goes on and a mad amount of cool shit went down so let’s update and converse about it, shall we?
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Matt from the ever-so-wonderful Everybody Taste, has started a label. In terms of blogger dreams we all wish for ourselves, dude is WINNING. Analog Edition Records first issue is a 7″ from Blake Mills. You want it and you don’t even know it. GET IT. Support a wonderful blogger in his endeavors. Be a good person.
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Alexander (Ebert’s) new disc is out today. From what I’ve heard, it’s full of fantastical hippy jams, perfect for river times and smoking blunts, if that’s your jam. Also, good for romps in the hay with bearded dudes, I bet. Buy it.
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King Jim, who we love, has released a new EP, Wedding Bells. I’ve listened and pre-approved it for your ears.
This post over at Draw Us Lines, Folk Hive’s Official Dude Equivalents, in regards to The Wooden Sky is a good read and further, packed full of good jams. Head on over.
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I hope to return this weekend. I hope to wax on about how I’ll be missing the GAYNGS Affiliyated bit this weekend in chilly Minneapolis, despite hotel and tickets being procured a month ago. I hope to receive your pity, readers. Prepare yourselves.
See up there in that title? DO YOU SEE THAT EXCLAMATION POINT?! It denotes that I am at once stoked and serious. Pay attention.
Eric & Magill have started a Kickstarter project to get All Those I Know vinyl-ized and, if you’ll remember, this was one of my favorite albums of last year, I’m urging you kids to support it. Besides the fact that supporting such a thing is just a wonderful act to perform as a human, this album really really transends it’s current status as a digital download only and fucking deserves to be pressed on wax. I’ll say it again, IT’S SOOOOOOOO GOOD. It’s so good it deserves a thousand more O’s than I just gave it.
FUND Eric & Magill’s Kickstarter Project to release All Those I Know on vinyl. DO IT.
Riding the Back of a Hog (better known as “piggybacking”) is a feature here at the Folk Hive where we do the leg work for you and highlight the best, most interesting, insanely rad posts from music blogs out in the wilderness known as the internets. You’re welcome.
I Guess I’m Floating alerts us to a new track from Levek, “Look On The Bright Side”. Gayngs fans, take note. While Gayngs can induce insta-boner, Levek can at least be the wine for your evening.
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Culture Bully is kind enough to offer up a pretty righteous bit of Junip, in the form of “Always”. Why the fuck does this remind me of ELO? Awesome.
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Enjoy, children. And happy “It’s Almost Fucking Friday, Thank You Any/All Omnipresent Beings” day.
Having just returned from an incredibly long (and slightly idiotic, according to friends, bosses, and family) trip to North Carolina to assault my eustachians with some homegrown slow-jams courtesy of Gayngs, I’m sort of reveling in the amazingness that is the NC Triangle music scene. Initially, the trip I made was justified by the fact that I’d be seeing most (if not all) of the members of four different bands that are constantly in rotation on the playlist around here: Megafaun, Solid Gold, Bon Iver, and The Rosebuds. It was akin to the Springsteen concert on my roster — I spent hundreds of dollars I certainly wasn’t making at the time working at a local dive bar on tickets and we headed out on the road to see BRUUUUUUUUCE!, Uncle Syl, and Max, Conan’s drummer. It was an expensive, life-altering experience for someone used to the mass-produced dance tunes that were frequently shoved down my throat while working at the bar.
This trip was akin. After a 20 hour non-stop drive, began after many sleepless anxiety-attack fueled nights, we arrived at our destination. When one is from the backwoods of Missouri, where bands like Sugarland are worshipped and Journey is loved non-ironically, Durham, North Carolina, is nothing short of a fucking culture shock. Four lane roads! Enlightened folks! German food! Ahhh, indie music. LIFE.
Being one who is want to research the fuck out of whatever it is I’m digging on/doing, I was knowledgable about what was happening in Raleigh and the surrounding area. I was drawn to the brilliance of Megafaun’s modern avant-gardish style of bluegrass and folk long ago and the jams being put out by Solid Gold had had me rocking for quite some time. The addition of The Rosebuds to the playlist in the house happened before the addition of Bon Iver but both provided massive inspiration back when I was sewing bags and running Homegrown {and the Bug}.
I digress. I’ll not wax on about Gayngs here — they’ve been hyped to death (and rightfully so) elsewhere and there’s no need for me to add to that pile. But I should send them a nice little thank you note for hipping me to what will most definetly be a frequent destination for shows.
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