Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Hasn't Come Out Yet: Here We Go Magic - Pigeons
Release date: June 8, 2010
I know there weren't many Chicagoans there, but Here We Go Magic played at a little Logan Square street fest called Metronome last year, at which it totally captivated its tiny audience. I was one of the happily captivated on that particular summer day, but you too can fall under Here We Go Magic's spell if you go to Pitchfork Fest this year. Actually, if you go to Pitchfork for any reason, make it Here We Go Magic. Yeah, I know that LCD Soundsystem, Modest Mouse and Pavement (and Lightning Bolt!) are playing this year, but isn't the real reason we go to that festival to hear exciting new sounds? That's why I go, to see what a band like Here We Go Magic sounds like a year after their first seven inch and fresh off a debut full-length album.
Readers are probably sick of hearing me rave about Secretly Canadian, but this label just won't quit. They're the best indie record label in the world right now simply because they pick the best new indie artists to join their roster. Here We Go Magic's first stint with Secretly Canadian is Pigeons. It's actually quite startling how far they've come in a year. They sound like they've been a band for a decade, and I don't know what to credit that to since they're so new (they don't even have a wikipedia page yet), but it doesn't matter anyway. This is a great record, and that's all I care about right now.
Their self-titled release from Western Vinyl glittered with reverb (that didn't remind of the Beach Boys) while drifting ethereally like the best kind of Radiohead. Along with the oscillating Panda Bear-ish chant-alongs that stacked synthesizers upon hypnotic guitar tones and tribal rhythms, it was music to get lost in.
On Pigeons, the haze has cleared and it's easy to hear what Here We Go Magic is made of. An album as rich in melody as it is noise, there's no telling how the next track will turn out. It could be a slow drizzle of soft keyboard tinkering and barely-there percussion, a poly-rhythmic clap and stomp around the jungle campfire, or a fuzzy freak-out of Flaming Lips atmospherics and trudging guitar distortion. When I listen to this album I don't know whether I feel like I'm on the Fantastic Planet (Savage Planet) or out too late at the hole-in-the-wall bar wondering what's playing on the jukebox. Either way, it feels so good to hear after midnight.
Here's the first single from Pigeons: Collector