The Sound of No Hands Clapping or Saying Yeah

I know there are far more troubling things to occupy my mind than bad music, but damn it if it doesn’t make me feel crestfallen to find a good band fall flat.

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah were uninspiring if not somnambulant live, but I loved their debut record. Their recent sophomore release, Some Loud Thunder, is to my ears virtually unlistenable. Any decent song or melody is obscured by muddy, over-modulated production. A thumb in yer eye, or ear, as it were. That Dave Friedmann, who has helmed some of my favorite records, sat in as producer on this is perplexing.

This Saturday I caught Brightblack Morning Light at the Great American. The floor was half-filled with kids sitting around like it was a knit-in. When the band came on, some of those in the crowd implored others to sit, but I don’t know how that would have helped. I wasn’t expecting anything mind-blowing - somehow I thought the molasses-groove southern soul would entrance instead of embalm. But the guitarist could hardly open his eyes to find the strings, so it was a lost cause.

Lastly, Wilco, a band that as the years go by I respect more than appreciate their music, offered a streaming online preview of their upcoming album (out May 15) over the weekend. A kindly gesture to those of us who as they said, “remember when they used to do that on the radio.” Very cool. I only went through it once and the first half sounded pleasant enough, but soon the songs devolved into the guitar and piano honky-skronk of A Ghost Is Born and then it was only a matter of time until the harmonizing guitar leads kicked in. And then what do you have?! Fucking prog. The only thing worse than prog is hearing it the second time around. Jeff, I’m glad you’re making music, but I liked it better when you were writing the bridge between Gram Parsons and ELO.

Thank Elvis, then, when a record comes out that reminds you why you’re even bothering with all this anyway. Arcade Fire released Neon Bible today and thanks to Merge, I’ve been enjoying the deluxe CD set all weekend. It may not have the immediate and incendiary power of Funeral but it’s a moving record that resonates more with each listen.