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Revolver Records thrives amidst record store closures

Matthew Montgomery — Sat, 20 Mar 2010 18:02:29 +0000

T.J. from Revolver Records from MusicGeek.org on Vimeo.

T.J. Jordan has a bold goal: to run the last record store in existence. When T.J. Jordan opened Revolver Records on Sept. 1, 2007, most people would have written it off as a pipe dream destined for failure. Two years later, Jordan and his staff are thriving at the Phoenix-based record store.

The store’s success, Jordan said, is down to one thing: It’s appealing to music lovers in search of something new.

“The people who come into record stores are coming in because they want something unique,” he said. “They’re not coming into to buy the latest Lil Wayne record. The only way record stores are going to stay in business is by appealing to the people who actually want to buy records.”

That appeal, Jordan said, is vital to the longevity of every record store; the traditional business model of the record store won’t keep them around, but providing excitement to music lovers will.

“If you go throughout the country, you’re going to see that the ones that are successful are the ones that have found a way to appeal to niche buyers and keep their store exciting,” he said. “I loved those record stores back in the ’90s, but I want to be the guy that owns the last record store. That’s my goal. I want to keep this in business as long as possible. What we try to do here is find ways we can stay in business, have a cushy job, and not have to work real jobs.”

Record stores are an invaluable asset in musical development, Jordan said. While the exit of many from the scene can be blamed on the faulty business model, much is lost when record stores shut their doors for good.

“If you listen to interviews with Paul McCartney or Brian Wilson, they always talk about the record stores they went into and discovered music,” he said. “Record stores are really important in musical development, and I hope it continues. I don’t like seeing record stores going out of business.”

Where Phoenix record stores like long-time city favorites Circles Records & Tapes — mere blocks away from Revolver — is closing its doors after 38 years of business, Revolver Records is busy carving out a niche for themselves. It’s not just Circles, but a business model that’s disappearing.

“The main reason is because they operate on a business model that worked for 1990, but it doesn’t work for 2010,” he said. “I don’t see that business model working now that you can download individual songs on iTunes. The ones that are dying are the ones that had a corporate mentality, and the ones that are thriving are appealing to music buyers again.”

Revolver’s niche, the same one to which other independent record stores across the country are looking, is why two-thirds of Jordan’s sales come from purchases of vinyl records.

As stores that sold vinyl in their heyday but have since moved exclusively to the CD sputter and collapse, Revolver Records represents a new breed of store: one that embraces the “long dead” format — and embraces their customer base along the way. Despite their love for vinyl, Jordan doesn’t think his customer base is simply antiquated.

“I think it would be foolish to say that most of our customers don’t have an iPod; I think they do,” he said. “I think the reason why people buy records is because it’s so unique, and it’s valuable.”

While the CD may have been easy to listen to, and the MP3 even easier to digest, there’s still an appeal to listening to vinyl, Jordan said.

“There’s a bit of effort involved in records,” Jordan said. “It’s tough to experience a record in tracks, you really experience it as a whole. For me, it’s a whole different experience, and I think that our customers come in for that.”

PLAYLIST: Not all Irish groups are U2, you know

Matthew Montgomery — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 19:37:03 +0000

As it’s Saint Patrick’s Day — and as we’re all obviously Catholic, we celebrate this religious holiday(!) — and people’s attentions are going to be turned toward Ireland, I thought it might be nice to build a playlist with a few of my favorite bands from Ireland. Don’t worry, none of them are U2. Here are nine songs from three groups: The High Llamas, God is an Astronaut, and My Bloody Valentine.

Who are some of your favorite Irish musicians? Share them with us on Twitter or comment below.

My Bloody Valentine – “To Here Knows When” live at the Fuji Rock Festival ’08
The High Llamas – “Bach Ze”
God is an Astronaut – “Infinite Horizons”
My Bloody Valentine – “Thorn” live at the Fuji Rock Festival ’08
The High Llamas – “Nomads”
God is an Astronaut – “The End of the Beginning”
My Bloody Valentine interview after winning a Classic Album award
The High Llamas – “Sun Beats Down”
God is an Astronaut – “All is Violent, All is Bright”

SomaFM powers discovery, bucks Web radio trends

Matthew Montgomery — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 16:22:55 +0000

For some years now, I’ve been listening off-and-on to SomaFM’s astounding radio station Indie Pop Rocks! and have, as a result, been introduced to some music that has stuck with me over years of listening, from Yo La Tengo and Pavement to Camera Obscura and The High Llamas.

SomaFM features a multitude of stations, and while most of its offerings are electronic in nature, some other notable stations with which I find interest include the recent Noise Pop Radio!, Covers – a station devoted to cover songs, and a dance rock station, PopTron! Across all its stations, SomaFM showcases artists from the obscure to the instantly recognizable.

Where something like last.fm or Pandora may offer some computer-generated discovery, the guided discovery of radio is where it can cull real power. Where most over-the-air radio has fallen into the mundaneness of the mainstream, SomaFM stands strong. For some, the variety may seem overwhelming — but with some time and patience, it transforms from something disparate and unrecognizable to the familiar.

Chiptunes For President

Belén Mata — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 08:58:10 +0000

"Dawn Metropolis" by Anamanaguchi

Last week, Jared featured an article spotlighting the music of “The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time.” I now feel it is my solemn duty to take MusicGeek.org’s Chiptune virginity.

According to Wikipedia, “A chiptune … is music written in sound formats where all the sounds are synthesized in real time by a computer or video game console sound chip.” Basically, Wikipedia really should have just said: “Chiptunes are awesome video game-type music happy go fun time. (Citation needed.)” Sweet, right?

Ratatat – “Lex” Classics (2006)
Download audio file (Ratatat-Lex1.mp3)

Anamanaguchi – Blackout City from n . on Vimeo.

I first discovered Anamanaguchi on accident last May while working on a paper for finals. Next thing I knew, their number one hit on iTunes, “Blackhole City”, had motivated me to work so quickly that I finished my paper, managed to have extra time to check out the rest of their stuff before the class, and made me skip to said class like I had snorted coke. After an hour of twitching and rapid pencil tapping to the mental beat of the song during the test, I did some research and found out that Anamanaguchi actually use hacked NES and Gameboy systems as synthesizers that hook up to a computer to get their retro sound; also pretty sweet.

Desperate for more, I discovered that Anamanaguchi was just a gateway drug to a harder band called Ratatat. They’re a little more on the rock side than Anamanaguchi, but their music is just as good. Songs like “Lex” keep you guessing with sudden changes throughout the track.

If you’re into eight-bit music and want to check out other bands besides Ratatat and Anamanaguchi, I’d suggest listening to Videogame Orchestra, She, Shirobon, and Sabrepulse.

And don’t do drugs, kids.

Music Geek: Hunting for records an essential part of musical journey

Matthew Montgomery — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 04:34:25 +0000

See, I can look classy every now and again.

When I search for records, it’s not an easy process. I often find myself inundated with those pesky round things — be they CDs or vinyl — as I flip through album after album. It’s not always particularly easy to find exactly what you want, supposing, of course, there is something in particular you’re interested in finding. It’s often the case that I’ll search shelves with no specific end, only the means: Exploration and search.

I’m under the impression that this is an essential part of my “musical journey” — a nebulous term I’ll adapt for use under a number of different circumstances with varying success. Half the fun of getting a record is looking for it, flipping through racks and racks of music, and finding that one specific item you’re willing to drop your cash on — or that stack of records you really, really don’t need right now.

If I were to walk into a store, find the album I wanted immediately, then leave, I feel I’d be missing a vital part of the experience. Of course, there are some real benefits to this — if somebody asks if you’ve heard of a record, and you remember seeing it at the store, you can just offer a glib, “Oh, I’ve heard of it, but I haven’t given it much time to digest,” be on your way, and leave them none the wiser. Sure, you haven’t heard the record, but you’ve seen a copy of it somewhere, and that should count for something, right? Not to say I’ve ever done this… but give it a try.

Of course, you don’t have to just flat-out lie. Is your friend asking about some new album you may or may not have heard, and you want to get them off your case? Tell them they have a copy on vinyl at the local record store. If it’s the right person, they’ll rush down, pick up a copy, and give it a listen, and they’ll probably invite you over to listen to it, too. You’ve helped your friend, yourself, and your local store, all in one fell swoop.

Aside from these fantasy scenarios, though, the record store serves a number of useful purposes. If you’ve caught a couple tracks from some band whose name is on the tip of your tongue — you’d recognize it if you saw it — and you know you want to hear more, what more fortuitous a scenario can come about than stumbling across it in your weekly vinyl hunt? You may find some real gems in there.

Downloading singles — or even albums, legally or not, doesn’t provide this experience. Not by a long shot. You can’t much shuffle through album after album, find something you recognize tangentially, and give it a spin at a listening station without some real effort — though, of course, if you know what you’re searching for, it’s not hard to find it.

I don’t mean to deny that there are some very sincere opportunities for one to find something new, exciting, and innovative online: Much to the contrary, the internet has proven a great tool for that very thing. It can’t be mistaken as the only tool, though; there’s something powerful about flipping through album after album, finding that vaguely recognizable gem, giving it a spin, and realizing you’ve either found a new love or made a huge mistake.

The record hunt, as one might call it, might be a bit outmoded in terms of efficiency, and it might be tiring. Still, it’s intensely satisfying. Can one find good music without record stores? Undoubtedly. I do it regularly, and I’m no finding-new-music whiz (perhaps I’d like to be, but it’s just not the case.) That should say something.

Wes Anderson flexes musical muscle in The Royal Tenenbaums

Matthew Montgomery — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 00:00:41 +0000

Wes Anderson, film director known best for emergent classics like The Royal Tenenbaums and Rushmore clearly knows what he’s doing with film — but can we say the same about the use of music in his films?

The Royal Tenenbaums proved definitive in capturing the feel of music in a Wes Anderson film; by now, it has become a trait of his cinematic auteur theory. The overarching style — especially as it’s exercised in the film — is most crisply defined by the Mutato Muzika Orchestra’s rendition of the Paul McCartney-penned classic, “Hey Jude.” Replete with harpsichord, the track defines the mood and feel of the film as a whole.

While we may be able to attribute much of the musical consistency across Anderson films to the use of the Mutato Muzika Orchestra — the Mark Mothersbaugh-helmed production company has also made at least some appearance on Anderson’s Bottle Rocket, Rushmore, and The Life Aquatic — we can pinpoint some other important attributes of Anderson films that extend beyond Mutato Muzika.

Indeed, while The Darjeeling Limited — a film that largely makes use of Indian music and The Kinks — doesn’t feature the contributions of Mothersbaugh, there’s a keenness to the use of popular music that gives us that patented Anderson feel. Throughout the two hours of the film, we’re treated to songs from The Rolling Stones, Nico, The Velvet Underground, Bob Dylan, The Ramones, and The Clash, but it’s when we hear Nick Drake and Elliott Smith in the most tragic of circumstances that we really get a grasp on what Anderson was attempting with music in the film.

Yeah, we get The Beatles through Mutato Muzika, and it’s great, and it’s fun, and it’s poppy — there’s an overwhelming inventiveness that helps define the film. There’s no real denying that. However, when we hear “Needle in the Hay” and “Fly,” we realize that our expectations musically have been built and torn away. It’s in the surprise of suicide that we find the absolute power of pop music accompanying visuals.

The typically upbeat music set ironically against the bulk of the film — not a necessarily happy affair, and most certainly an awkward one — is clever, but when the film’s narrative and the music’s narrative coincide so strongly, we’re left staggering. The Royal Tenenbaums starts as a relatively simple affair and ends as a tale with real strength and emotion.

Through music, Anderson takes us on an unrivaled cinematic journey. The power of transition — an idea not made subtle in the film’s eventual climax — allows us to experience something that, without music, would just be a dull affair with sad, awkward characters filled with angst and ranting. Sure, it would be visually intriguing, and the character depth may even remain, but there’d not be much reason to care for the lot of them.

Instead, we’re given something with dignity, grace, and unmistakeable style. Anderson, through thematic musical elements, gives us distinguished, neurotic, and noble characters — and we’re given some reason for the undeniable sympathy they evoke.

Music Geek: Record stores at crossroads, but there’s time to recover

Matthew Montgomery — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 18:00:16 +0000

See, I can look classy every now and again.

While in Phoenix for a computer-assisted reporting conference — NICAR 2010, which has a name nearly as exciting as possible for this sort of this — I took a jaunt over to a couple record stores, interested, of course, in seeing what sorts of wares were on offer. What I found was surprising and depressing, inspiring and enlightening.

My first stop, Circles Records & Tapes was one which I’d recently discovered was either closing or had already closed. To my delight, I found it to have not yet closed, and a large advert touting their 50-percent-off liquidation sale made the whole thing all the more tantalizing. It was, then, a bit unfortunate to discover that the store was very much into the process of closing its doors, and the merchandise being liquidated included a few miscellaneous albums on vinyl — nothing of real note, excepting one of the many Brian Eno collaboration projects — and a slew of very cheap, obscure, and low-quality CD releases. It was no real pain to walk from the store empty handed, as I’d already assumed it had closed for good, and my plans were primarily to visit a store a few blocks away, Revolver Records. Anything I would have picked up at a Circles would have been merely a happy accident.

Revolver Records, only a couple blocks away from Circles — a short walk from the Arizona State University Downtown Campus, where the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism is located — was a different story. From my first step into the door, the atmosphere was friendly and inviting, if a little intimidating. The selection on show was impressive, considering the size of the store. After a few tense minutes of trying to discern the organizational pattern of the store — now, that was something left to be desired — I found my first record of the day: King Crimson’s 1982 classic Beat, an album I’d previously purchased, I believe, while I was still in high school. I’ve never been much opposed to owning albums in multiple formats, save a digital format.

Some more searching revealed a few post-rock and shoegaze favorites against the right-most wall in the section labeled “New Vinyl” — an ambiguous term at best, but I did my searching, insufficient labeling be damned. Pavement’s Terror Twilight immediately popped out at me, as it’s an album I’ve been listening to with real fervor in the last two weeks. Slint’s Spiderland, My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless — my choices were hardly limited in the ways I usually expect. I rounded off the day of purchasing with something a bit more modern: The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s 2009 self-titled album.

So, I’m sitting in my hotel room, listening to Pavement’s “Ann Don’t Cry,” wishing I was listening to it on vinyl — and I can’t help but feel I’ve been cheating on Groovacious. I’ve been actively enjoying the presence of another label, and I did it knowingly and actively. It’s not as if I was dragged along to a store; I was the only one from my group who went. I mean, I don’t actually think I did anything of any consequence, but it’s an odd thing, isn’t it? To feel allegiance to an organization selling you music? Tim and Lisa Cretsinger at Groovacious have been terribly helpful and supportive, both of MusicGeek.org and my continuing musical development — and the things they do for the southern Utah community, musical and not, are of some real note.

But I won’t be in Cedar City, Utah, forever, will I? I ought to seek out quality record store experiences, both for myself and for others. If, like is commonly assumed, the independent record store is a dying breed, to not submerse myself in the waters of musical compassion would be remiss. Hopefully, in the future, we at MusicGeek.org will be able to give some real time and thought toward the record store as a social institution: Without it, who knows where music would be? What would growing bands do without the power of the in-store show? What about the accessibility of the latest, greatest music, or those ubiquitous recommendations from the person behind the counter? We’d be worse off without them, there’s no real doubting that.

Seeing Circles Records & Tapes on the verge of falling off the edge of relevance — and mere blocks from the seemingly successful Revolver Records; it ought to serve as a wake-up call, one much the like I’ll be receiving (well, my phone will be waking me up with its alarm clock function, but I’m in a hotel — that’s the point!) in only a few short hours. Record stores are facing an unenviable struggle; they’re being pulled in many directions by uneven forces.

The rise of the MP3 — no death blow on its own, to my mind — combined with financial hardship in tough economic conditions has forced record stores to redefine their very function in society. They can no longer function as the sole source of music for the music lover: From this point forward, people will download music, and people will be able to find obscure maxi-singles online with greater ease than they would by having their record store clerk order it. If the record store is no longer the sole source of music, what will be its function? This is the struggle owners are now being faced with, and it’s not an easy one. Everyone’s trying to deal with these diverse, plentiful problems in their own innovative ways; there’s no one-size-fits-all boilerplate solution out there.

It’ll take some work. Record stores will close. But I’m not convinced they’ll disappear forever. With careful, exacting effort, the record store will be a thing of the past, but a new type of record store will be a thing of the future.

Star Trek inspires bizarre musical efforts

Matthew Montgomery — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 18:00:01 +0000

Star Trek, a show that’s inspired millions of geeks around the world (myself included,) has perhaps inevitably spawned some very bizarre musical tributes. From filk to electronic remixes, Gene Roddenberry’s 1965 masterpiece has lasted 45 years, and given the success of the latest film in the Star Trek universe (even if it is set in a slightly different but importantly similar universe), it looks like it’s set to continue for some time yet.

1. Dark Materia — “The Picard Song”
What. A. Song. This one needs no introduction — it’s probably the best Star Trek-inspired track to date. This mashup of classic Jean-Luc Picard quotes compiled by Dark Materia is great; it’s not his only output — he also produced two tracks you’ll find later in this list.

2. The Firm — “Star Trekkin’”
I loved this song as a kid, but now, it’s a little grating. If you want to annoy yourself and every single person around you for a few minutes, give this a spin. I can only imagine how my mother must have felt.

3. Tachyon Beam — “Darmok and Jalad”
This is a nice little folk tune about a brilliant episode of The Next Generation, “Darmok,” wherein Captain Picard is forced to examine his implicit assumptions about language and communication. While this song doesn’t reach the intellectual heights of the episode, it is a nice reminder of the episode.

4. Butchy B — “Lasar Rock (Star Trek Rap)”
This may be the single-most ridiculous piece of music ever crafted. Enjoy.

5. Dark Materia — “The Worf Song”
This effort from Dark Materia isn’t quite as fine-tuned as “The Picard Song,” and it certainly hasn’t seen the same popularity, but it’s a very nice contribution to the canon of Star Trek-related music.

6. Data’s “Lifeforms” song from Star Trek: Generations
This is why Data either really, really needs an emotion chip at all times … or shouldn’t have one at all. One of the two. At any rate, Data’s “Lifeforms” song defines Star Trek: Generations — a cheesy attempt at pleasing Star Trek fans of all types.

7. Dark Materia — “Frame of Mind”
This is another great remix from the creator of “The Picard Song” and “The Worf Song.” Set to scenes of the magnanimous Commander Riker from the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode “Frame of Mind,” the remix plays through the story of the episode with some real electronic verve. Where “The Worf Song” and “The Picard Song” are very much about the eponymous characters, “Frame of Mind” is about both Will Riker and the great episode.

8. Stovokor – “For the Glory of Qo’nos”
Klingon metalcore played by people in Klingon getup, and they’re named after Klingon “heaven.” Need I say more? Perhaps it’s a worthy successor to Viking metal — time will tell. (I’ll give you a hint: It’s a niche market.)

Mark Linkous, Sparklehorse leader, commits suicide, leaves musical legacy

Matthew Montgomery — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 23:43:36 +0000

Mark Linkous, leader of rock group Sparklehorse, committed suicide yesterday in Knoxville, Tenn. He leaves a musical legacy that spans four full-length albums as Sparklehorse and two in collaboration with Danger Mouse and Fennesz. Linkous also worked as a producer, notably with outsider music favorite Daniel Johnston. Share your thoughts on the death of Linkous below.

PLAYLIST: Music, working combine for entertainment, productivity

Matthew Montgomery — Sun, 07 Mar 2010 18:00:02 +0000

Few things change your working environment more than good music. In my experience, music is often an essential part of work, whether I’m working on some routine data entry, trying to plow through that last line of code, or getting a last-minute news feature ready for publication. Here’s a short list of some of my favorites.

Pavement – “Spit on a Stranger”

When I’m working, I need something that will capture my attention but not demand it — Pavement’s “Spit on a Stranger” somehow hits on the right side of the line: It’s something rare. A catchy melody and evocative guitar work define this song, and over the past few days of working, I’ve not been able to turn it off.

Weather Report – “Birdland”

Good fusion jazz is invaluable in my work routine. It’s upbeat, poppy, but not annoyingly so — and there’s not a chance it’ll lull me to sleep with soothing sounds.

My Bloody Valentine – “Soon”

My Bloody Valentine flows perfectly into the background when I’m hammering out a web page: Not only does it help me keep my focus, it drowns out any distraction — for obvious reasons. Their patented wall of guitar noise provides that impenetrable density you need when you just need to get over that last hurdle in your project.

Stereolab – “Wow and Flutter”

I love Stereolab. Do I need more reason? Also, this video is really weird. Check it out.

Tortoise – TNT

TNT is easily one of the greatest post-rock albums of all time, and its inclusion couldn’t be contingent upon a single song. It’s energetic, innovative, experimental — but more than that, it’s listenable, and it can sit in the background without much to trouble you. Don’t make your first listen of TNT too distracted, though — give it a few spins before you try to work alongside it, and you’ll find it’s considerably easier.

Ben Folds Five – “Kate”

There’s something very nice about singing while you work — I suppose this song might not work so well if you work in an office, but when I’m working at home, there are few things better than being able to sing along with some Ben Folds Five while I work.