Casimer & Casimir
The wicked pulsation of “Retiree’s” opening synth washes over you with the same dazzle and disorientation wrought from the sweet syrupy glugs of an old box of refrigerated wine, similar to the one that’s zozzled our narrating singer into such a melodically ponderous state. But soon, those beats affect a sublime sway, a sort of waltzy slow-dance on the beach where the frothy tides of prog-rock glitter and funk-flaring indie-dance-pop barnacles are splashed together onto the toes of this Uncle-Nephew duo, Casimer & Casimir. Synth strings saw and soar like shooting stars and the b-section settles down for what feels like champagne bubbles into your ear drums. All this, plus the stop-you-in-your-tracks splendor of our vocalist’s wispy timbre (you’ll recall our ascot-ed, gossamer-toned crooner, monsieur Casimer, from the now-three-year’s-gone baroque-baring champions of intricate/imaginative pop –Pas/Cal, as he sings of coming to a strange new creative sobriety in the sips of bad, bad wine, over the cresting fuzz furls of his nephew, Vincent Casimir).
Casimer & Casimir started up about six months ago and plan to release a song (or two) in spurts, here and there. So, after you stream this splendid ditty, make sure to check back.
• Casimer & Casimir: http://casimercasimir.bandcamp.com
Dope Body’s coming, yo!
The press release for the band discourages us from “[comparing] their ferocity to another contender.” Why not? Because when something’s good enough, you don’t need to make comparisons to prove it. So, if you like your punk measured out in raw slabs, if you prefer your squeals scalding, it won’t take an argument or a catalogue of influences to get you on Dope Body’s side. Besides, in this reporter’s meek library, there are some clear precursors to Dope Body, but really nothing quite the same — no contenders, if you will, in the same weight class. Or at least of the same species.
Dope Body are from Baltimore, a city whose rage they seem to have fed right into their mainline. While the big thumping smacks on “Lazy Slave” would likely devolve into a generic hair-flaunting fetish in the hands of less-controlled psychos, these guys keep it interesting throughout. While sampling genres where cliché and mimesis rule, Dope Body mange to innovate atop the very musical vocabulary that makes this kind of stuff so quickly boring for so many listeners. While many bands appear to operate under the false logic that decibels equal distinction, Dope Body prove that sometimes it actually can be true. I’m very, very excited to hear the album in full.
Natural History comes from Drag City on May 22.
Following a string of EPs released last year (Track or Die, ElevatorWORKZ Vol. 1, Just Chillin’), DJ Taye, one of the youngest footwork DJs/producers in the Ghetto Tek crew (DJ Rashad, DJ Spinn, DJ Manny, etc.), has just dropped his first full-length LP, Studio 24. Dude’s one prolific 17 year old. Studio 24, released via Lit City (DJ Rashad and Aziza Man’s new label), features 17 tracks of tightly-coiled snaps, window-seat samples, and mangled beats. Hear for yourself:
• DJ Taye: http://soundcloud.com/djtaye
It’s time to dust off your boogie shoes. On March 6, Vancouver humans Robbie Slade and Peter Ricq, also known as the electro-pop band Humans, are set to put out Traps, their third release and Hybridity Music debut. To alleviate the tension of anticipation, they’ve humanely released a teaser, the EP’s first single “De Ciel” as a free download. Where 2010’s Avec Mes Mecs was full of edgy beats, this cut is more on a soulful disco/old school house tip. Disco Stu likes disco music. Ayyyy…
“Keystone Sonata Arrangement VII”
Philadelphia “massed guitar” ensemble Mahogany have been away for about six years since the release of Connectivity! in 2006. When I reviewed the last proper Stereolab full-length, Chemical Chords, I made a comment about other bands (Mahogany, to be very specific) outdoing them at their own game. Although one might be tempted to call a six-year absence resting on laurels, Mahogany’s first new song from the forthcoming Electric Prisms EP reaches farther out than anything resembling Stereolab. “Keystone Sonata Arrangement VII” does away with the submerged female vocals and replaces them with a prominent male voice (Mahogany’s Andrew Prinz perhaps?). The percussion rides what sounds like an ice bell for the duration of the piece, hitting a warm Appleseed Cast circa Low Level Owl place in my heart, while strings pan back and forth in the stereo field. Someone catch me; I think I just fainted.
• Mahogany: http://twitter.com/MahoganyCity