(JOSH LISTENS TO) CAR SEAT HEADREST (BUT SAYS THIS ISN'T A PROBLEM): "Teens of Denial" album review and sampling discussion...

The albums that you weren't anticipating are always what end up being your favourites. This is the case with the new album from Will Toledo's project Car Seat Headrest, as it caught me off-guard with its release back in May and I have been steadily listening to it ever since. It simply has me coming back with its lo-fi charm, incredibly catchy guitar hooks and meaningful lyrics.

Once you get the past the absurd name and get onto the first track, (eventually coming to understand that his vocals were recorded in Mr. Toledo's car with his earlier releases) it just reels you in. "Fill in the Blank" is a perfect starter, giving you a taste of what is to come with its quirky opening vocal snippet, punchy guitars and angsty-ridden vocals. This is beyond cemented with the line; "If I were split in two I would just take my fists, so I could beat up the rest of me." No further explanation needed. It's a quick and dirty opener featuring a riff so upbeat and attention-grabbing that it initially distracts you from the darker side the lyrics present. It brings up a comparison to the garage rock tinge of The Strokes, but given their material post-"Is This It" that would be more of an insult than anything anywhere near positive. Its ultimately irrelevant, but the music video has to get bonus points for its clever premise:

What follows next is the album's lead single "Vincent", throwing a curve ball with a slow and gradually building twang before delivering an almost funky flavour, utilising saxophones and trombones for certain sections, serving as a memorable counter to the more straightforward tone that just preceded it. The trend continues throughout the rest of the album, delivering familiar yet inventive lo-fi thrills that the project has become known for since their most notable release "Twin Fantasy" back in 2012. The delightfully titled "(Joes Gets Kicked Out of School for Using) Drugs With Friends (But Says This Isn't a Problem)" is a psychedelic comedown that climaxes with a meaningful and catchy refrain that nods to conformity and the repetitive alienation that drug use eventually entails, cycling between whether drugs or friends are better than one another. 

The discussion of sampling comes into play with the following track, formerly known as "Just What I Wanted/Not Just What I Needed" and now known as "Not What I Needed" after a sample failed to clear in the previous variant. As the title alludes, it utilised an unauthorised sample from one of The Cars' most famous hits "Just What I Needed", leading to a recall of all copies of the original as the sample was thought to have cleared but bounced due to their front man Ric Ocasek disagreeing with the usage of samples. Whilst it is certainly within his rights to do so, as it is his own original material, to not even consider the context of its use is certainly debatable as Toledo states: "I don’t think that Ric ever listened to the album or the song, which is the only part that really bothers me." The lack of an open mind in the homage that only ever had good intentions is boggling, with the entire conversation that this issue sparked revolved around the legalities and not the artistic merit that the sample entailed. Naivety aside, that is obviously not the case when it comes to an individual's copyright ownership. A great shame nonetheless, as having heard both versions, it continued the theme of familiarity but with a twist before the song subverts your expectation and does its own thing. A tribute put to bed by a last minute technicality. What we ended up with is of equal strength however, with Toledo's desperate squeal: "I know when I'm being catered to!" ingrained into my brain for many days even after hearing it initially.

Yet another notable moment on this album comes with the track "Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales", an anthem for all the drunk drivers out there. Don't. "It doesn't have to be like this," heard prominently on its way out, lending itself both to its obvious message against drunk driving but to life as a whole. Shed the self-loathing and get on with it, not in captivity, much a reference to its alternate title. As the line is proclaimed, it ties it all together, delivering a satisfying climax that is riveting.

What is ultimately my favourite track is the epic 11-minute behemoth that is "The Ballad of the Costa Concordia", posing life as if it were, as optimistically as ever, a sinking ship, it's disastrous namesake. A slow build that comes to an intense spoken-word breakdown that shows its just sometimes too much to handle. It in the case of its thematic and its real life basis, it certainly was an expensive mistake. How the hell was he supposed to steer his ship? The dour tone in his voice as the guitar heightens and the tempo builds accelerates the feeling of helplessness whilst still remaining accessible and simply a joy to listen to. That's all only by the time the track reaches its mid-point, the track that keeps on giving, throwing so many ideas at you with its lyrics it almost becomes overwhelming, much like the scenario that the song places itself in. This track alone feels like a long journey that's come to a bittersweet end, the pressure gradually builds, you breakdown, and then you give up.

The album as a whole is what it is: it's guitar-driven indie rock with an incredibly sharp wit and ambition that backs it up, it's personal in nature, proving to you and me that this could only have come from Will Toledo, it's unique to him. It just so happens that what he has to say is enthralling. It's lengthy and is borderline indulgent, but stick with it. Humour it. It pulls you in with catchy hooks and keeps you coming back with its vulnerable insight into the man himself, with so many memorable lyrics and quirks to pick from. How was I supposed to know how great this album truly is?

I'M THE MAN WHO LOVES YOU: Wilco's "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" and it's troubled release...

There's no question that "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot" is a god's honest classic, remaining the stand out album from Wilco's long and established discography. What is often not known however to most passive listeners is the trouble behind this album in its production and delayed release and how the military-lingo filled title came to be.

The advent of Yankee comes shortly after the second Billy Bragg collaboration "Mermaid Avenue Vol. II", which was not to be the last of their collaborations. While touring to promote the album, Wilco's main man - the wry humoured Jeff Tweedy was offered the opportunity of a further collaboration with other musicians which eventually stemmed into the relatively short-lived side project Loose Fur. It was because of this association that drummer Glenn Kotche became what is still a key piece of Wilco, after his predecessor was dismissed due to significant differences in what the next step should be, a recurring theme in this album's production, with a similar fate happening to former guitarist the late Jay Bennett. However, this still wasn't the end their troubles.

After recording finished in what was early 2001, the deal was struck for a September 11, 2001 release. This was until the major merger between AOL and Time Warner was made, causing the loss of several hundred jobs, such as those of the Time Warner-owned Reprise Records - including the band's main seconder, the president of the company. His replacement tasked with the choice as whether or not to release the completed project, which was stemming to one option as a result of merged business' subsequent financial woes: unlikely. A buyout was made shortly after by the band, which ended up being a penniless departure with Reprise being admirably accommodating. That is, before a certain article came along and stirred up some unnecessary controversy, with the new-found president of Reprise alleged to have stated that "the record was so bad it would kill Wilco's career," oh, the irony. Even if the album was to go ahead with its intended release, the significance of their chosen date wouldn't exactly have been too kind to the album in more ways than one.

To spite what would be a heavy delay to its physical release, the band decided to stream the full album only a week after its intended release, opting to tour afterwards which was successful and even regardless of its limited release, fans still knew the words to their what were officially unreleased tracks.

In the mean time, the big release was still almost a whole year away, with Wilco opening bids for rights to distribute their album, two of which were the now-defunct Artemis Records and the long-standing Nonesuch Records. There were numerous other record labels teething for the album, their bids all dismissed by the spearhead: if the label did not have a roster of artists that matched his taste, they were put by the way side. Pushing November 2001, Wilco collectively signed with Nonesuch Records. Funny thing about that, scratching past the surface reveals that Nonesuch is owned by AOL Time Warner. The irony continues. Thus, in a twist of fate that not even a Wikipedia article could present without cracking a cynical grin, Wilco recorded and produced an album with a company that thought of their work as a career-killer, before reverting their rights and continuing to sell said rights to the same affiliate.

But, it finally came out, and to great fanfare: widespread commercial and critical success.

And all it took was 2 band members, 2 record labels and a self-titled documentary for it to reach that point. A small price to pay for what is, in my opinion, one of the greatest albums of all time. From the moment you hear those introductory piercing notes that will indeed break your heart to the reflective ambience in reservations, it will keep you in it's lo-fi, almost psychedelic trance. There aren't really any words to describe it further than that, it can be a slow grower, but once it's there it never lets go. Something you do truly have to experience for yourself.