Unless my memory’s failing me, the first time I heard Bedhead was in the summer of 1998. They were, at the time, a band I knew next to nothing about, save that their name kept cropping up as an influence on bands whose music I dug. I’m pretty sure that reading interviews with Pedro the Lion’s David Bazan, in which he cited Bedhead as an influence, played a prominent role in that — in ’98, I was listening to The Only Reason I Feel Secure a whole lot. Maybe obsessively.

Anyway. If memory serves, I was working a temp job in Little Silver for a couple of weeks, and I headed to Jack’s Music in Red Bank after work one day to see if they had anything from Bedhead in stock. Turns out they did: I went back home with Transaction de Novo, what turned out to be their final album, in tow. I followed the Kadane brothers’ musical output from there to The New Year, which preserved Bedhead’s restrained approach while adding in a slightly more cathartic element.

And now there’s Overseas, in which both Kadanes are joined by Bazan and Will Johnson. It’s the first music I’ve heard from them in a while, and my interest — piqued when I first heard of the group’s existence — was piqued. I’m a little bummed to hear that the Kadanes won’t be singing on this one — though I’m a fan of both Bazan’s voice and Johnson’s, I’d also love to hear how the voices of all four of the band’s members could play off one another.

Of the two songs they have posted, I’m a bit more drawn to “Down Below,” which — not shockingly — sounds a bit like David Bazan providing guest vocals on a The New Year song. I suspect I’ll end up ordering the album before long — the collected works of the band’s members inspires more than a little trust. And in writing this, I’ve had a reason to visit The New Year’s website, which alludes to “some news later in the year,” which seems very promising indeed.

Another month, another edition of Vol.1′s podcast, Audio Indexing.

This time out, I had the good fortune to chat with Amy Rebecca Klein, currently making music as a member of Leda and of Hilly Eye. The latter’s new album Reasons to Live is highly recommended — smart, noisy rock music that reminds me of the likes of Gowns and Young People.

[So: I'm on a listserve for contributors to Dusted, and we've been taking turns posting things about artists we're fond of. This was my contribution, which I figured I'd post here.]

Eventually, I’ll talk your ear off about The Spinanes. For the most part, when I say TheSpinanes, I’m talking about the original lineup: Rebecca Gates on vocals and guitar, Scott Plouf on drums. (The albums Manos and Strand; the singles collected on the EP The Imp Years.) But really, I’m also fine with talking about the version of the band that recorded the last full-length made under that name, Arches and Aisles – essentially, Gates and a host of Chicago post-rock types, several of whom would also show up on her sole solo effort to date,Ruby Series. (There’s also a 7″ of Rolling Stones covers that’s utterly fantastic; if memory serves, Ted Leo was a touring Spinane for a little while,. though I never got to see that lineup.) But — I’m getting ahead of myself.

I went to a show at the Westbeth Theater Center in 1996, where The Spinanes played on a bill with Versus and Elliott Smith. I’d heard some good things about them from friends. I was in my second semester of college then, and was probably at my most musically intolerable: lots of straight-edge hardcore*, lots of crappy alt-rock. I cite the show as life-changing even though I don’t remember much about the bands that played — I think Smith was the artist on that bill that was the most musically striking to me. It did lead me to pick up Strand a day or two later, though, and…

…I can’t quite explain just what it is that makes me love this album. The Gates/Plouf duo sounds tight and fantastic; Gates’s lyrics are smart and blistering and delivered amazingly. It’s the sort of album that sounds fresh to me whenever I hear it: some new facet of an arrangement makes itself apparent; some new hook arises; some new lyric strikes me as amazing. I’m not sure exactly where I’d place it, but it’s a relatively constant presence on personal top 5 lists, something I can’t say for most records.

(Manos? Also terrific. Arches & Aisles? Totally worth it. Imp Years? Has “Hawaiian Baby,” for God’s sake.)

Gates has a new album due out in May on 12XU. Am I stupidly excited to hear it? Yes I am.

Also, one of these days, I’m going to post my circa-’98 interview with Gates (done for a piece for my college paper, and for my zine**). I did get to chat with her about a year ago, and saw her at Europa last summer. Still highly, highly recommended.

*-i.e. to the point where musical talent ran second to how straight-edge you were. Remember the ’88 revival? I do! Oh, do I ever.
**-profile ran in the paper; full interview ran in the zine.

Many years ago, I ended up directing a video for a Seattle band called Crystal Skulls. (If you’re not familiar with the band in question and your tastes in music run towards pop with smart, occasionally biting lyrics, you could do far worse than checking out one of their two albums.) It was an interesting experience: it ended up falling into the category of videos that didn’t feature the band at all, and there were a couple of aspects of planning for the shoot that…well, let’s just say that I learned a couple of things for the next time I undertake such a project.

Where I’m going with this (hey, look: me digressing. Imagine that) is that singer/guitarist Christian Wargo now has a new band, Poor Moon; they have an EP coming out on Sub Pop in March. Admittedly, the guy’s been keeping busy: he’s also a member of an obscure folk-rock outfit called Fleet Foxes. But as a fan of his work as a songwriter, I’m glad to hear that this group exists. The MP3 that Sub Pop has up now? Also pretty catchy.

With 2012 on us, I’ve begun contributing to The L Magazine. Most recently (as I write this, though I should have another piece up before long), I wrote about Scud Mountain Boys’ recent show at the Bowery Ballroom.

When I first started thinking about doing a zine in the mid-90s, two of the zines that inspired me most were Rumpshaker and Anti-Matter*. And pretty much since late last month, I’ve intended to use that as a point to link pieces by the editors of each: Eric Weiss’s interview with Carrie Whitney on the followup to her excellent All About Friends compilation**, and Norman Brannon’s essay “The Death of a Music Writer: A 20-Year Exit Strategy.” It’s always a fine thing when the writers who said smart, inspirational things about music (and why you should care about music) seventeen years ago are doing it just as much today, you know?

*-the third critically important zine for me growing up was Trustkill, for the record.
**-which featured Botch covering “Rock Lobster,” which was utterly awesome. See above.

I hadn’t realized that a pair of Three Mile Pilot albums had been reissued on vinyl by Hi-Speed Soul until I found myself browsing through the “T” section at Generation earlier this week. And now I know, and have duly purchased Chief Assassin of the Sinister.

I also picked up Temporary Residence’s Bitch Magnet collection the other week at Sound Fix, and am slowly making my way through that. I’ll admit that I’d known of the group primarily as Sooyoung Park’s pre-Seam band; so far, I’m enjoying exploring their discography, which is heading to some unexpected places. (It’s also prompting me to revisit Seam’s body of work, which is never a bad thing.)

I’ve been a fan of the Icelandic composer Jóhann Jóhannsson since around the time I heard his 2004 album Virðulegu Forsetar, a magnificent work that slowly unfolds from burgeoning drone to expansive bliss. And more recently, I’ve been listening semi-obsessively to a piece called “The Cause of Labour is the Hope of the World,” which comes from his soundtrack to a film called The Miners’ Hymns.

All of this is preface to say that I chatted with Jóhannsson for The Rumpus via email over the course of a few months, and the end result is now online.

Somewhat randomly: here are three reviews that appeared recently on Dusted. All are for albums that I would recommend.

Handsome Furs, Sound Kapital:

Sound Kapital never quite settles into a comfortable pattern of pop. The first 15 seconds of opener “When I Get Back” feature slightly distorted vocals over a skeletal beat. Though it eventually settles into a more established dancefloor configuration, those first moments are intentionally jarring, the lines “When I get back home / I won’t be the same no more” serving as the album’s thesis statement.

The War on Drugs, Slave Ambient:

These are songs designed to be played in an archetypal car with its windows down, engine floored as it heads down the interstate. On the other hand, there’s a blissful quality — less psychedelic and more coming from the ambient/drone side of things. It’s not dissimilar to the devastatingly subtle boundary-ebbings practiced by the likes of Marissa Nadler and Sharon Van Etten.

A Winged Victory for the Sullen, A Winged Victory for the Sullen:

Unlike The Dead Texan, which flirted very loosely (and effectively) with pop structures, the seven pieces here are more impressionistic; while there are structures in place, the overall effect is one of contrasts, of quieter sections giving way to the presence of a host of instruments.

So: I reviewed the debut from Case Studies for Dusted. And I interviewed Jesse Lortz, the man behind the project, for Vol.1. Lortz was also half of The Dutchess and The Duke, who made two of my favorite albums of the past couple of years. I was excited to hear this new project; and, when it comes down to it, I’d recommend the Case Studies album highly.

What I do still find giving me pause, though, are Lortz’s feelings about his current work relative to his past work. On the one hand, I can’t think of many artists in any discipline who’d make the case that their latest work isn’t their best. But I also find myself conflicted about my love of his previous work and whether it can coexist with my admiration of his present work. For now, I’m still listening; still working it all out.