Foals - Holy Fire

The Chosen Tune Week
Monday	Tuesday	Wednesday	Thursday	Friday
Dan Auerbach - Heartbroken, In Disrepair	Foals - Inhaler	Nick Drake - Man in a Shed	Chet Baker – My Funny Valentine	Them Crooked Vultures - No One Loves Me and Neither Do I

The Tune for today is:

Foals - Inhaler

Sticks and stones don’t break my bones, you make believe

It’s lock and load, it’s a dead end road to you and me

You know what’s to go, I’m strict for soul

I make believe

And I’m off the rent, I haven’t spent, I guarantee

So can you not go away

If just for one day

Uh-uh-uh

Impossible, possible way

How would you do know

How’d you do now?

Run away

War sounds in you

Don’t throw your fortune away

And I can’t get enough

Space, space, space

Get enough space

I’m pale and coy, a mama’s boy

I make believe

I shimmy-shake, I wake and bake,

I’m over me

My lungs are beat, I can not breathe

Don’t follow me

You ush and shove, I’ve had enough,

Don’t mess with me

So can you not go away

If just for one day

Uh-uh-uh

Impossible, ṗossible way

How would you do know

How’d you do now?

Run away

War sounds in you

Don’t throw your fortune away

And I can’t get enough

Space,

I can’t Get enough space

Space

and their great video clip - My Number:

Foals - My Number from Us on Vimeo.

Review by Gregory Heaney (allmusic)

While there are lots of bands dealing in either danceable rock or navel-gazing pop, few bands combine the two quite like Foals. On Holy Fire, the third album from the English band, the post-punk revival is given a newfound sense of depth, creating songs that are rhythmic enough to draw listeners, but hypnotic enough to leave listeners lost in their wide-open spaces. This combination of atmosphere and momentum find Foals growing out of the shadows of titans like the Talking Heads and into a spaced-out, dance-punk niche that's all their own. Though a lot of the band's charm comes from the delicate interplay between the guitars and keyboards, the real star of the album comes by way of the massive, stadium-ready "Inhaler," which takes the sparkling, slow build used throughout the album and turns it on its ear with an eruption of massively fuzzy, Muse-esque guitars (and, to some extent, their bombast), creating one of the albums biggest and most rousing moments. Now that they're three albums deep, it feels as if Foals have found a nice middle ground between funk and feeling, making Holy Fire an album that is just as likely to get a room moving as it is to send its inhabitants into a fit of introspective conversation. This kind of duality is something that's hard to find, and it's a quality that could take Foals a long way if they're able to hold onto it.

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Alt-J - An Awesome Wave

The Tune for today is: 

Alt-J - Breezeblocks

She may contain the urge to run away
But hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks
Cetirizine, your fever’s gripped me again
Never kisses, all you ever send are fullstops
Do you know where the wilds things go
They go along to take your honey
Break down, now weep, build up, breakfast
Now let’s eat, my love, my love love love

Muscle to muscle and toe to toe
The fear has gripped me, but here I go
My heart sinks as I jump up
Your hand grips hand as my eyes shut

Do you know where the wild things go
They go along to take your honey
Break down, now sleep, build up, breakfast
Now let’s eat, my love, my love love love
She bruises, coughs, she splutters
Pistol shots hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks
She’s morphine, queen of my vaccine, my love, my love love love

Muscle to muscle and toe to toe
The fear has gripped me, but here I go
My heart sinks as I jump up
Your hand grips hand as my eyes shut

She may contain the urge to runaway
But hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks
Germoline disinfect the scene, my love, my love love love

But please don’t go, I love you so
My lovely

Please don’t go, Please don’t go
I love you so, I love you so
Please don’t go, Please don’t go
I love you so, I love you so
Please break my heart

Please don’t go, Please don’t go
I love you so, I love you so
Please don’t go, Please don’t go
I love you so, I love you so
Please break my heart

Please don’t go, I’ll eat you whole
I love you so, I love you so, I love you so
Please don’t go, I’ll eat you whole
I love you so, I love you so, I love you so

Review by Jon O'Brien (all music)

Named after the Mac command also used as a mathematical equation to show change, formed while studying fine art at university, and prone to throwing in the odd geometric reference within their lyrics, there are signs that Cambridge-based quartet Alt-J might be a little bit too clever for their own good. Produced by Charlie Andrew (the Laurel Collective), their debut album, An Awesome Wave, is occasionally guilty of pretentiousness, particularly the irritating a cappella vocal warmup of the interlude "(The Ripe & Ruin)." But for the most part, its 13 tracks do for nu-folk what Everything Everything's equally ambitious debut did for indie rock, breathing new life into the genre with an intriguing but accessible series of art rock twists and turns. Indeed, other than frontman Joe Newman's impassioned -- if occasionally bordering on parody -- vocal style, there's little here in common with the tweeness ofMumford & Sons. "Tessellate" combines the glitchy electronica of Thom Yorke's solo career with the wistful wintry harmonies of Fleet Foxes; "Fitzpleasure" fizzes along with its dubstep-lite beats and acidic basslines before it's interrupted, first by a burst of jangly post-rock and second by the kind of shimmering guitar twangs you'd expect from a Tarantino soundtrack; while "Taro" somehow melds together the unlikely bedfellows of Americana and bhangra to produce a fittingly oddball but enthralling finale. It's toAndrew's credit that these eclectic arrays of sound are woven together in a manner so effortlessly that the results never feel forced or contrived. There are a few more straightforward moments such as "Matilda," a gentle acoustic folk ode to Natalie Portman's troubled character in Léon, and the sparse, haunting "Ms." But Alt-J's wave is far more awesome when it's at its most schizophrenic.

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Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti - Mature Themes

The Tune for Today is:

Ariel Pink's Haunted Graffiti - Only in My Dreams

If at first you don't succeed at love 
Just dream a little dream about a girl so real
When she don't call up no more, well
Never give up, you gotta believe it
If only in my dreams (only in my dreams)
If only in my dreams she'll be right there next to me

And if I could say, if only in my dreams you're the luckiest girl
In the world there's no other more lucky in love, you don't have to explain it 
'Cause you're the one who's in love and we'll have so much fun
On the beach, on the ocean of my dreamscape only in my dreams

If at first you don't succeed at love
Just dream a little dream about a girl so real
And when she don't call up no more, well
Don't ever give up, yeah you gotta believe it
If only in my dreams she'll be right there next to me
(Only in my dreams) Only in my dreams

And if I could say, if only in my dreams you're the luckiest girl
In the world there's no other girl luckier, you don't have to explain it 
'Cause you're the one who's in love and we'll have so much fun
On the beach, on the ocean of my dreamscape only in my dreams

And if I could see that you'll be real with me
And we'll have so much fun, and it's just begun

If only in my dreams you're the luckiest girl
In the world there's no other more lucky in love, you don't have to explain it 
'Cause you're the one who's in love and we'll have so much fun
If only in my dreams

Review by Heather Phares (allmusic)

To anyone familiar with his music, it's obvious that Ariel Pink is weird, but it bears repeating: Ariel Pinkis really weird. It's also not a surprise that he's a (self-professed) "nympho" either, but he sheds more light on that throughout Mature Themes, which is both his most accomplished album and some of his most twistedly immature music. As on Before Today, the album's sound is just a shade clearer than what came before it, and his backing band Haunted Graffiti's tight musicianship provides the perfect foil forPink's stream-of-consciousness sprawl. But while Mature Themes' conceptual glue makes it more cohesive than all of his previous work put together, glorious randomness abounds: not many artists would interrupt a song to order food at a drive-thru, as Pink does on the rhapsodic "Schnitzel Boogie," or write a song about being bros with a legendary seer, as he does on "Nostradamus and Me," one of his more ecstatically drifting pieces of chillwave. As always, Pink's lyrics are densely knotted with wordplay and innuendo; his fondness for sound effects approaches Spike Jones levels, and his fondness for dropping violent imagery into his songs makes them all the more jarring and surreal, as on "Is This the Best Spot," where G-spots and H-bombs go hand in hand. Yet all of this weirdness feels like it has more of a point on Mature Themes than it has on his previous albums: sex and love can be strange and complicated. "Pink Slime" takes on a whole new meaning in Pink's hands, and amidst its silliness, "Symphony of the Nymph" tackles gender roles and sexual stereotypes; despite the song's bragging, whenPink sings "I'm just a rock n' rolla from Beverly Hills!," there's more than a hint of strain in his voice. And even if a lot of the album's sexual imagery seems adolescent, Pink turns it on its head with the album's soft rock title track, which addresses the teenage ideal of a girl and boy in love (along with his wish to be taller). He goes deeper into that fantasy with the jingle-jangle single "Only in My Dreams," which is is sweetly creepy and full of bubblegum yearning like a vintage AM radio hit, and with the fantastic album closer "Baby," a cover of Donnie & Joe Emerson's 1979 song (and 21st century mixtape favorite) that features Dam-Funk helping Pink complete the smooth loverman persona. It's one of the few times where Mature Themes is actually sexy as well as sexual, and the way Pink disappears into the song may be his biggest mind-f*ck yet. Even his surprises end up being perfectly Ariel Pink things to do in retrospect, and with this album, he's mastered being more superficially accessible yet ultimately more cryptic. Mature Themes just reveals more levels with more listening; as Pink himself sings on the psych oddity "Early Birds of Babylon," "hey, how does he do that?



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Chromatics - Kill for Love

The Tune for Today is: 

Chromatics - Lady

If I could only call you my lady
Baby I could be your man
Wise men they say
Only fools fall in love
Why do we fall in love
Baby I just want you to come back
And give us all something to do
Give us all something to do
If you could only feel the flame
From the candle I burn for you
Lady if you want me to come back
I'll come running back to you
But baby if you ask me to come back
You've got to give me something to do

Review by K. Ross Hoffman (allmusic)

It took nearly five years for Chromatics to follow up 2007's acclaimed Night Drive (an expanded, analog-remastered edition of which appeared in 2010). Despite that interval -- and unlike any previous full-length under the volatile Chromatics banner -- Kill for Love is very much an extension of the sound and approach of its predecessor. It also runs nearly 92 minutes in its full digital version (only 78 in physical formats, with space limitations necessitating the omission of epic ambient closer "No Escape"). That's quite a lot of music, even if you've been waiting half a decade for it, but it feels entirely warranted, if not flat-out necessary in this case, because this is torpid, achingly gradual music that requires time and patience to achieve its fullest impact -- and because this is the kind of album you don't so much listen to as live inside while it's playing. Anyone familiar with Night Drive or the other Italians Do It Better-associated projects of Chromatics' prime aesthetic mover Johnny Jewel (Glass Candy, Desire, Symmetry) can probably intuit what's in store here: atmospheric, deeply stylish aural landscapes in pop song silhouettes, and darkly glistening electronic "pop" infused with post-punk's steely, nihilistic ennui. Kill for Love feels in many ways like an ultimate, quintessential expression of this aesthetic, in part because it creates a properly expansive context, and also because not a minute is wasted -- it maintains an impressively high level of quality and and emotional resonance throughout -- but particularly in how it blurs the distinction between "proper" songs and the sort of moody, cinematic instrumental (or nearly instrumental) pieces which form the bulk of the album's latter half almost to the point of irrelevance. One corollary to this is that the more overtly pop moments, clustered in the first third, here don't quite "pop" like they could -- with slightly different production choices, songs like "Lady" and the title track might be instant synth pop earworms; here, draped in haze and analog crackle, they're shyer to reveal their charms, though Ruth Radelet's hushed, mournful melodies do seep in and grow addictive with repeated listens. Contrasting Radelet's glassy-eyed clarity, a heavily processed male voice takes over on the brooding "Streets Will Never Look the Same" and "Running from the Sun," recalling the bleary, washed-out vibe of Sweden's Radio Dept. Once again, Chromatics use a cover song in a pivotal role here, opening the record with a stripped-down, deadpan take on Neil Young's "Hey Hey My My," dubbed "Into the Black" (although it's closer in tone to Young's more somber "Out of the Blue" acoustic version) -- it's a strange, almost anti-hip choice, and somewhat inscrutable as an opener, but as with just about everything else here, it is inarguably effective, and starkly beautiful in its simplicity.

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Dengue Fever - Cannibal Courtship

The Tune for Today is: 

Dengue Fever - Cement Slippers 

Review by Thom Jurek (allmusic):

On their first offering of new material since 2008's Venus on Earth, and their debut for the Concord Music Group's Fantasy imprint, Los Angeles-base sextet Dengue Fever ups its own ante. On their three previous outings, the tunes walked a knife's edge between Americanski-style indie rock and an appropriation of Cambodian-influenced psych/pop/surf (which was in itself a blend of that nation's folk music with emerging American forms). On Cannibal Courtship, the band combines falls off the edge on both sides, and in the process, trademarks an indelible persona. Cambodian-born vocalist Chhom Nimolsings in both English and Cambodian, depending on the cut, but musically, Dengue Fever's seamless reconciliation of sounds nets often startling results. There is the mysterious, swirling, spaciousness of "Uku," which somehow comes off as even more trippy than anything they've done previously. Then there are the driving rock & roll numbers, such as the bilingual "Only a Friend" and the careening "Family Business." Other flavors in this heady mix include the bluesy, surfed-out guitar and Rhodes piano on the opening title track, which explodes into an orgy of horns, Theremin, and cracking snares on the chorus. "Mr. Bubbles" weaves Nimol's voice around the Farfisa, which moves right into some gloriously spooky guitars, only to come out on the other side with an indie pop refrain and bridge. "Cement Slippers" features a fuzz guitar and overloaded big horns in vocal duet between Nimol and guitarist/vocalist Zac Holtzman; they come off sounding like a cross between a 21st century B-52's andNOMO. "Kiss of the Bufo Alvarius" is an instrumental that could have been written and arranged by Les Baxter, it's so exotic and sophisticated; and though it's a breezy rock tune, it includes shimmering flute and trumpet breaks, and percolating bongos. Album-closer "Durian Dowry" is the most perfect meld of indie rock's obsession with retro-psych and Cambodian rock. Nimol's ghostly voice swoops and swoons through the lyrics above the band's delirious, infectious rock & roll. Cannibal Courtship is easily Dengue Fever's most consistent, sophisticated, and accessible recording to date, and one that should, with any luck, net them more than a few new fans.

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Beach House - Bloom

The Tune for Today is: 

Beach House - Myth

Drifting in and out 
See the road you're on 

You came rolling down the cheek 
You say just what you need 
And in between 
It's never as it seems 

Help me to make it 
Help me to make it 

If you built yourself a myth 
You'd know just what to give 

What comes after this 
Momentary bliss 
The consequence 
Of what you do to me 

Help me to make it 
Help me to make it 

Found yourself in a new direction 
Aeons far from the sun 
Can you come? 
Would they come to breach you? 
Let you know you're not the only one 

You can't keep hangin' on 
To all that's dead and gone 

If you built yourself a myth 
You'd know just what to give 
Do you lie? 
Oh, let the ashes fly 

Help me to make it 
Help me to make it

Review by Heather Phares (allmusic)

"It's a strange paradise," Victoria LeGrand sings at one point on Beach House's fourth album Bloom, and there isn't a more apt description of the beautifully heartbroken mood that she and Alex Scally create here. Reuniting with Teen Dream engineer Chris Coady, the duo designed the album to be listened to as a whole, and fittingly, it often feels more like a suite than a collection of songs. This ambition is admirable, but it also means that it takes a while for individual moments to emerge from the album's beautiful haze. Indeed, Bloom may be Beach House's most sonically gorgeous album yet, with an icy sheen that doesn't warm up much, even when recordings of locusts and seagulls show up between tracks; it's easy to imagine LeGrand exhaling clouds of mist while singing the backing vocals on "Lazuli." While the endearing, sometimes awkward intimacy of Beach House's earlier work -- which felt like LeGrand was crooning confessions over creaky, vintage keyboards and drum machines just for you -- is missed,Bloom's shimmering remoteness enhances the album's philosophical, searching approach to love and loss. It's a mood and setting perfect for LeGrand's vocals, which have never sounded richer or more world-weary: "What comes after this momentary bliss? Help me to name it," she calls out on the opening track "Myth," a sentiment echoed later by "Wishes," where she wonders, "How's it supposed to feel?" Emotional moments such as these take their time to emerge, but when they do, they're riveting, particularly on "Troublemaker," which recalls Beach House's previous albums in its delicate dance between sad, stark verses and more hopeful choruses, and on the beautifully resigned "Irene," where a whimsical keyboard melody offsets and underscores the feeling of loss at the same time. Since Bloom's suite-like flow downplays Beach House's poppy side (with the notable exceptions "Other People" and "The Hours"), it's not the band's most immediate music, but the album's challenging mix of heartbroken words and aloof sounds rewards patient and repeated listening.

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