TV on the Radio

Every so often, I come across music that seizes my attention and gets inside me for reasons I don't quite understand. The frequency with which this occurs depends almost entirely on how engaged I am with seeking out new music--as opposed to cruising through back catalogs and revisiting the old stuff. Or just being a lazy ass and not paying attention. Right now, I'm in full-on seeker mode, and I've returned to TV on the Radio to find out what it is about these guys that grabs me so hard.

I've sort of come at this band from the backdoor, so to speak. My attention was first caught with New Health Rock, off their latest EP. I'd hear it on KEXP, turned fairly low on not so horrible computer speakers at work, and would shut my door and turn it up as loud as I could get away with. The beat haunted me, seeking out my fingertips and toes and tapping itself out at any still moment, and the vocals were freaky streaming hip-hop prose like I'd never heard it.

I sought out other tunes, but for whatever reason I didn't dig deeper than just a quick listen.

Finally, last night, I bought Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes, their first full-length record, off iTunes. For the first few minutes I thought "What have I done?" It was a lot like the feeling I had after buying the new M83 album (more on that another time). But, the more I listen, especially this morning in headphones while doing some mechanical work, I realize that this stuff is fantastic.

There's something weirdly mesmerizing about the vocals of Tunde Adebimpe, not to mention that effect jumping to another level entirely when both he and Kyp Malone harmonize, low and droll mixed with a falsetto that makes Beck look even more foolish doing it than he did on his own. This is real singing, not tongue-in-cheek-mockery for the sake of a slow jam, and every tune is so tight, so uniquely itself, that I just sit and listen, mouth agape, a slow grin forming.

Poppy rocks, and Wear You Out is an amazing tune, a meditation in the moment of an impending sexing-up of some anonymous lady. Staring at the Sun is really the only song I'd heard before on this record--it doesn't really lend itself to singledom--and it stacks up nicely to the rest. I'm still digesting this record, but I wanted to get some words out to try and capture the wonder and bafflement and joy I'm experiencing in trying to figure it out. (That's a big benefit blogs have over published criticism--you can flesh it out in print.)

Further, after work today, after a meeting tonight, I came home and bought the Young Liars EP, which caused such a shitstorm of attention when it came out. Now, at this moment, I sit here listening to this for the first time, and I am impressed. It's like the other one but, maybe, better. So far at least. The title track is pulsing through my headphones right now, part of a continuum of somehow soulfully mechanical music, any organic parts repeated and buried as to be a part of the larger tonal shift that is the melody. And the vocals--that's the thing, the music is so droning, so consistent and simple and gorgeous and monotonous, because the focus is the vocals.

This record's vocals are all Adebimpe, layers of his voice piled on top of each other, to amazing effect. Especially now--his treatment of the Pixies' Mr. Grieves is just knocking me out. Snapping fingers behind 3-part harmonies with a couple lead lines over that. Just brilliant. Amazing.

Mostly, there's nothing in my mind to compare this to. I'm ill-prepared for what this is doing to my brain. Which is a good thing. In this my year of rediscovering music, it's very appropriate to be thrown for a loop like this.

Also, if you're interested, check out the band's blog. There's some crazy shit going on in these brains.