Do aging alt-rock heads sit around these days waiting for new Dandy Warhols albums to drop? Really? Anyway, this is like sunshine acid/post-Woodstock Spacemen 3 jangle-pop or something, and as useless as I generally find these fools, I probably won't excise this from my Windows Media Player once I'm finished typing.
BURNING STAR CORE
"No Memories, No Plans"
The eternally prolix C. Spencer Yeh somehow (Electronics? Firecrackers? Dozens of snapping mousetraps?) replicates the popping sound aluminum foil makes when placed inside of an operating microwave. Way in the background, people yelp in awe—and rightfully so.
I'd be willing to bet my annual salary that none of these three have ever worked an actual fast-food drive-thru: By all accounts, Julian and Santogold grew up loaded; Pharrell was probably too busy arranging primitive beats in his bedroom. But yeah, the song: Hate this flashy, hyperactive mess. Seriously, why are these people—all of whom are talented in different ways—even working together?
No more of that preacher/junkie Wooden Wand bullshit for Toth: He's got Steve Fisk producing for him now and the songcraft's sharp, shapely, and distinctly '70s. This is sort of like being in a wood-paneled incubator—in a good way.
"We Went There"
Wander half-aware into one of Portland's Honey Owens's ethereal, depthless puddles, and you're hopelessly lost in the skuzzy guitar, undulating tambourines, and mellow vibes a mere 30 seconds later. Divine.
Check out this week's featured ad for Entertainment