Gigwise reports today that Peter Gabriel plans to cover Vampire Weekend's "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa" (aka, the song that name-drops Gabriel in its lyrics). What's next, a Lil Jon version of "Oxford Comma"? (Please, please, please let that be next).

And bizarrely impassioned Vampire Weekend hate in 3...2...1...

Brent Amaker and the Rodeo check in about their open call for remixes for Hillbilly Electro Pop. The song is "I've Got a Little Hillbilly in Me" and the band wants you to remix it. They are going to take their favorite ones and put them on a CD. For instructions, go here.

Drummer and guitarist Mason Lowe spoke:

Tell me about some of the remixes you all have received:
Mason: The first response came from Randy Robot, a DJ from Berlin (MORE PLEASE!). He chucks out all but a few elements from the original song then tweaks those beyond recognition. This is a challenging listen, even to Rodeo fans who are, I find, some erudite MFers.

Randy Robot’s remix is exactly the kind of transformation Brent had in mind. I am a teensy bit bummed because neither my guitar nor drums made it onto this killer track.

Jay Cynik transforms a song of rural romance into a hip-hop duet with an anonymous male MC. Brent sings, “I wish that you would dance with me,” the MC adds “on the m-i-c.” It sounds way more natural than it should. Add a healthy serving of fiki-fiki scratching and a clever use of the lead guitar line and it’s pretty clear that Jay has had a little bit of hillbilly in him all along.

The good folks at Radio Free Bakersfield knocked together a minimalist remix that occasionally flies in a dubby, distorted guitar from out of nowhere.

Anything unexpected?
Yes, from Peter Fedofsky (of Seattle band Curtains for You). The Rodeo’s simple, happy song has become moody with minor keys and echoing choral voices. But just when you get adjusted to the gothic depth of Fedofsky’s remix, a jaunty piano and kazoos (!) lighten the mood with lovely added melodies. Curveball city, right? Well, I think I’m ready for anything now when – IS THAT A HARPSICHORD? Hats off, Pete. You blew my mind with your baroque-abilly remix.

I recently reacquired a digital copy of Jets to Brazil's stellar first album, Orange Rhyming Dictionary (to go with my orange vinyl double LP, natch), and damn if it doesn't hold up pretty well for those times when you wish Blake Schwarzenbach had recorded just one more Jawbreaker record. Especially heavy in my rotation lately is "I Typed For Miles." Back when the record came out, my friends would rag on this song because the opening guitar part sounds so much like the opening to "Heart Shaped Box." In the context of the song, though, it seems obviously intentional.

From the titular/lyrical references to Truman Capote's famous dis of Jack Kerouac ("That's not writing, that's typing") to the song's fixation on "love songs on the radio tonight," the song is as much about loneliness as it is about writer's block (both share a strain of self-doubt). For the (song-)writer, the song on the radio is not only a reminder of absent/lost love but also a source of creative/professional anxiety. (It's not hard to imagine Schwarzenbach, who once opened for Nirvana, feeling such weight attached to "Heart Shaped Box.") The best part, though: The song's accusatory coda, screamed in hoarse refrain, seems to fly in every direction, its meaning shifting fluidly from one utterance to the next, hitting every target—Kerouac, the song on the radio, the absent lover, finally the writer/singer himself: "You keep fucking up my life."

If that isn't writing, then it is some damn fine typing.

There are two bubbles.

One is made from sea foam inches off the water of the Atlantic Ocean. The other is from a bubble machine in a single man’s apartment. He’s sleek and modern and anal. He says he knows Irvine Welsh. He’s a sycophantic Euro-party metro-fashion clown. This night, he’s lured a woman back to his place. He throws a switch and a wet bar is illuminated under thin track lighting.

The single man puts on the Bee Gees “Night Fever” and impresses the girl
with talk about vortexes. He turns on the bubble machine and makes her
another sex on the beach. The view of the city is danced to.

“Night fever, night fever. We know how to do it.”

The bubble in the Atlantic floats above the unsuspecting head
of a baby sea lion that’s strayed from the pack. The little grey
animal is about to be swallowed whole by a fifteen foot long
great white shark swimming up as hard and fast as it can.
The great white's mouth is so open the only thing that will touch
that sea lion is the back of the shark's throat, where acids begin
to melt the brain of the baby still tasting its mother’s milk.

“Night fever, night fever. We know how to show it.”

Girl Talk has posted a new track up on his myspace page, called, "I." While it's not the embarrassing rudimentary mash-ups of the fake Feed the Animals leak, the song isn't exactly promising either. It sounds more like Gregg Gillis is aiming to shore up his much-discussed Merzbow fan bona fides, with its slurred vocal samples, echoing glitches, phased static, and low rumbling rhythm. Still, this could just be an intro track, or a goof, or, shit, maybe he's gonna do a drone set at Capitol Hill Block Party. Who knows? At least the new album art (if that's it) is fire.

photo by Hilary Harris

There's a new song up on The Saturday Knights' myspace- "Foreign Affair", which snuck up and became one of my favorites off of the fit-to-drop Mingle LP. Peep it out if you know what's good- Uncle Luke would approve of the beat. Barfly says 'Cabaret'. Tilson raps Amy Winehouse song titles for an entire verse!
TSK open for RZA 6/24, and their CD Release is 6/27 at Nectar with Budos Band.

There are lots of reasons to love the Peter Bjorn & John song "Up Against the Wall" great—the easy backbeat; that endless, perfect guitar line; the foggy harbor ambience; Peter Moren's always adorable accent; the way its seven minutes pass like half the time. But what I love about it most right now is the double meaning in its chorus. Lyrically, it's anxious and conflicted—up against the wall in the sense of being backed into a corner and forced to act. But melodically, sentimentally, the songs is blissful—"almost that I wish you had me up against the wall"—pinned up against a wall as in an embrace, weighed down as in "the love poetry of every age." I've been warned that there's no way to reference Milan Kundera while describing a Peter Bjorn & John song without sounding like a total d-bag, but there it is. It's currently my favorite song on Writer's Block, an album comprised almost entirely of favorite songs.

Brent Amaker is offering up files for you to remix a song. If he likes your remix, he’ll put it on his upcoming full length. Also, there may be a release of just remixes. Brent’s got a little electro in him. Hit that link above to hear a remix from Berlin by Randy Robot.

If you want the files go here.

There will be an MP3 of the original song, plus individual .wav files for each track in Pro-tools. The .wav files are new recordings and will not match the MP3 exactly. They did this specifically for this project. The MP3 is just a reference.

Click the IDisk PUBLIC FOLDER on the homepage. Download the tracks and use anything you want for your mix. When your mix is finished, contact the Rodeo on this page to receive instructions for forwarding your final mix.

If you loved 2006's It's Never Been Like That as much as I did then you will be equally excited to hear that French pop rockers Phoenix have been hitting the studio and have just released an "exclusive new track from the recording sessions of the upcoming album." The band has graciously donated the song to the Cartier Love Charity and Action Contre Le Faim in an attempt to help raise awareness about hunger, and expensive jewelry. The track sounds like an intro to the album, instrumental until the very end, building off of a very Battles-ish guitar riff, so it's not a full-blown Phoenix song, but it's a start.

"Twenty-One One Zero" can be streamed here and downloaded here.

"Rock the Casbah" was released in 1982, so I know it's not really a ringing cell phone, but that little noise that chirps in around the 1:54 mark, just as Joe Strummer sings "the in crowd say it's cool," well it sounds just like a cell phone...

I never noticed it until this morning.

The Clash were such a forward thinking band.

Chicago quartet Maps and Atlases have just put the title track from their upcoming EP You and Me and the Mountain on their Myspace. They play a unique blend of math rock and freak folk, their songs finding a common ground between intimate and complicated. I had the pleasure of seeing them play Chop Suey last year for a crowd of about ten and each of the members skills were inspiring (almost to the point of personal frustration). It was one of those moments where you realize, "That's amazing... I'll never be able to do that." Listen to tracks from their previous EP for some serious guitar work. They play next Friday, May 30th at Neumos with Foals.

Bust it. Mingle Mania begins as Stereogum has TSK's jam "Dog Park" up for your personal perusal. The Knights' full-length (out 6/24- CD Release @ Nectar 6/27 w/ Budos Band) is really, reeeallly good- take notice.

A world stripped of emotion would be a world stripped of song.

Ice-T says, “Hate is an emotion that can take a fool over. When I was younger, I couldn’t control it. Hating caused me to write a majority of my lyrics. Now I can laugh at it.”

The Beatles say, “All you need is love, love, love is all you need.”

Miriam Webster says, “Emotion is the affective aspect of consciousness: feeling. A state of feeling. A conscious mental reaction (as anger or fear).

Mary J. Blige says, “Don’t need no hateration, holleratin in this dance.”

2:30 Update: This poll is lacking a 'Heartbreak' choice and I fully realize that. It should be in there. I am sorry. (Thank you TinyMuscles.)

So then:

Which is most likely to lead to good song writing?

Which is most likely to lead to bad song writing?

"Title Track" from We Have the Facts and We're Voting Yes:

My memory cannot recall, a wave of alcohol
We shared a cigarette and shaved the hours off.
Lushing with the hallway concregation,
my best judgement signed its resignation.
I rushed this. We moved too fast, and tripped into the guestroom.

"Tiny Vessels" from Transatlanticism:

So one last touch and then you'll go
And we'll pretend that it meant something so much more
But it was vile, and it was cheap
And you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me

"Someday You'll Be Loved" from Plans:

You'll be loved you'll be loved
Like you never have known
The memories of me
Will seem more like bad dreams
Just a series of blurs
Like I never occurred
Someday you will be loved

"Pity and Fear" from Narrow Stairs:

I have such envy for the stranger lying next to me
Who awakes in the night and slips out into the pre-dawn light
With no words: a clean escape, no promises or messes made
And chalks it all up to a mistake

And perhaps...

"We Looked Like Giants" from Transatlanticism:

When every thursday I'd brave those mountain passes
And you'd skip your early classes
And we'd learn how our bodies worked.
God damn the black night with all it's foul temptation
I become what I always hated
When I was with you then

Am I missing any?

(Special Post Listening-Sounds: Finlandia¹.)

Look at this guy:

There he is, Old Man Jean.

When this photo was taken, in 1939, Sibelius had almost twenty years of drinking and smoking left in him—and Sibelius loved his wine and cigars. (He died, at 91, of a healthful brain hemorrhage.)

He didn't write much music once the haze of alcoholic late-middle age set in, but he did write this recipe for a tasty-sounding punch, on the occasion of a christening in 1943.

1 l water + sugar + jam + brandy or spirit.
Add 2 bottles of wine when everything is completely cold.
Add a few drops of Bergamot oil in a lump of sugar, which must be melted in the water.

(Nota Bene: All mineral waters make the punch black.)

Black punch? Neat!

And can't you taste that black punch in the sounds of Finlandia?

Imagine walking up the garden path to see Old Man Jean. Maybe it's dusk. Maybe it's Finland. Maybe there are reindeer nibbling on your pants. You knock on the door. You wait. The old maestro greets you with a glass of ink.

"Try it!" he croaks. "You'll like it!"

Cue the music:

The initial apprehension of the low horns. (Black punch? What the fuck?!). The resignation in the strings. (Okay, okay—relax, old man, I'll take a sip) The timpani rolling as you lift the dark drink to your lips. (Deep breath, don't gag.) The wondering woodwinds as you let the liquid leak into your mouth, and then...

Bam! Dawn! Triumph! Cymbals! Horns blaring excelsior!

Damn, Sibelius! This black punch is fucking transcendent!

And then he laughs and laughs and lights another cigar and laughs some more.

Black punch!

(¹: George Bernard Shaw wrote about Finlandia in the Manchester Guardian, in 1938: "Sibelius is unquestionably a leader in the front rank of symphonic composers. He has got out of the ruts worn by his predecessors far more completely than Brahms got away from Beethoven, or even Richard Strauss from Wagner. If someone would only burn Finlandia he would come to our young people as an entirely original inventor of a new art form and a new harmony technique.")

Megan's right about your soundtrack for the day, but her post got me thinking: Which is the better song about freaking out at Whole Foods? There are, by my count, two to choose from:

"Parentheses" by the Blow:

"By Torpedo or Crohn's" by Why? (ignore the unofficial graphic):

No fancy poll, just fight it out in the comments.

Update: Brian Cook adds "The Jogger" by Pissed Jeans. Good lookin' out. Let the three way free for all resume.

As per Douglas Martin's suggestion, another installment of "Lyric of the Day," this one from Hot Chip's "Crap Kraft Dinner" off Coming on Strong:

"All the people that I think I am are drunk"

The line closes a circular series of variations on love, identity, proximity, and inebriation. The setting seems to be a kind of dream-like cocktail party, with every long lost ex and future lover gathered together with the singer. Then there's this line bemoaning the fluidity of identity and the exacerbating effects of drink on same. We all have moments when we feel we could have been, should have been, maybe even could still be someone else. When Alexis Taylor sings the line in his melancholy falsetto, you get the distinct impression that he misses all the people he thinks he is could be as much as the people he loves. Not a common sentiment in song, let alone in a song whose core emotional image is a box of mac'n'cheese.

From the stellar "Good Friday" off of Why?'s latest album, Alopecia:

"Sending sexy SMSs to my ex's new man 'cause I can"

Jesus! Just look at that thing! Look at the internal rhyme and consonance involved. Look at the amount of narrative and character crammed into just 11 words. Check out how he says "SMSs" when a lesser MC would've just said "text messages." When you listen to it, it sounds like Yoni Wolf's voice is climbing a up little hill, then falling down, flat. That is one hell of lyric.

Also, on an unrelated note, I just finished reading Carl Wilson's 33 1/3 book on Celine Dion's Let's Talk About Love, A Journey to the End of Taste, and, to add my voice to what I'm sure is already an exhausted chorus of consensus, it is required reading for anyone who has ever cared (too much) about music.

How's that for an asking-for-it post title? Fuck it, let's just fag out here for a second. The moment I fell in love with Bright Eyes (and, yeah, some of the infatuation has since worn off) was in 2000, in Olympia, in an apartment I shared with two hardcore/metal kids that occasionally indulged in a soft spot of Slint, Will Oldham, or young Mr. Conor Oberst. Fevers and Mirrors had just come out, and I remember being pretty impressed with the whole album upon hearing it, but what really got me was "An Attempt to Tip the Scales." Not so much the song itself, although it's great, but the "interview" that follows, in which the Faint's Todd Baechle impersonates Oberst for a fake radio interview. It's hilarious.

Baechle lovingly skewers his subject's supposed gloomy, fey, wiltingly emo disposition, and the radio DJ interviewer is basically the blueprint for how to conduct an asinine interview—asking point blank about the ablum's symbolism, interrupting his guest, etc. The whole thing is totally absurd—questions and answers make no sense, Baechle asks for the background noise to be turned off just the minute you've forgotten it's there. It was reassuring proof that dude could laugh at himself, and that acknowledgment—that art is after all an act—made it a lot easier to wade in the album's melancholy. It was also perhaps the first such self-conscious, po-mo gesture I'd ever heard included on a record (or maybe that was Superchunk's inclusion of a very real hilarious radio show on their Laughter Guns EP).

Oh, all of this, btw, is apropos of nothing more than this song coming up on my random shuffle lunchtime walk today. So there.

Find out at Spinner.com.

Scarlett sounds really bored. But the cameo by David Bowie and the music itself almost makes it worth listening to.

Lately, I've been thinking about how music can make lines that read stupid on paper sound absolutely amazing. Call it the New Order effect. This occurred to me the other day, as I was walking home, and the Black Dominoes remix of of Vampire Weekend's "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa" (recommended) came on my portable music player.

Like a lot of lyrics, "Do you wanna fuck / like you know I do?," doesn't look like much typed out, but damn if dude's voice-cracking howl doesn't just sell the shit out of it, disproving every dumb trend piece about what lilly-frail preppies these guys are with the most blunt, appealing come on indie rock's heard in years.

Possibly related: "In a town so small / there's no escaping you" from Belle & Sebastian's "Dirty Dream Number Two," although that line holds up a little better on paper (or an lcd screen), it still benefits mightily from the head-hanging, weeping violins that underpin its delivery.

If I were a comments-thirsty sort, I might open the floor for suggestions of other possibly questionable lines made poignant by their musical accompaniment, but that would be gauche, right?

It was supposed to be released next week, but a leak forced the band to release it early.

Visit www.weezer.com to hear the full version of "Pork and Beans."

I'm listening to it right now... I really dig the huge, power pop chorus. It gives me a little hope for the new record.

Wait, did he really just sing "Timbaland knows the way to reach the top of the chart/Maybe if I work with him I can perfect the art"?

Sigh.

Hope = shattered.

According to Joshua Allen and science, it's 2:42.

From the Morning News:

My scientists told me that the perfect song length had to be closer to three minutes than two, but definitely shorter than three minutes. Three minutes is where bloat starts to set in. Where the band thinks: Hey, let’s do the chorus seven times. Hey, let’s give the saxophone guy a real moment to shine on this one. Hey, let’s add another bridge.

Just look at what clocks in between two and a half and three minutes: “Mr. Tambourine Man,” “We Got the Beat,” “Boys Don’t Cry,” “Hot Fun in the Summertime,” “Good Times Bad Times,” “I Would Die 4 U,” “Paranoid,” “Blowin’ in the Wind,” “Debaser,” “God Only Knows,” and “Fall on Me.” These are not only stone-cold classics but they also encapsulate all that is great about the band without wasting your goddamn time.

You can't argue with science. Read the whole piece here.

Four drummers, one very famous Nirvana song. Who is your favorite?

1) The Walrus: Sturdy man. Good drummer expressions. Sweet handlebar mustache:

2) Kid A: Plays with incorruptibility and heart. A little rough around the edges:

3) Iceman: Ice:

4) The Phantom Menace: Electric kit. Right out the gate he’s busy. A racehorse. Boggling with Neil Peart like fire:

Which one is your favorite:

Thank you, random shuffle, for playing this song on my walk through the thunder and rain today:

Stupid unseasonably warm weekend springtime fake-out.

Copy, Right? put a bunch of cover songs up on their blog, as they often do. There's a steel drum cover of Green Day's "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" that does absolutely nothing for me, and there's a ukelele cover of "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" by Jake Shimabukuru that kind of rocks.

And there are two covers of songs popularly associated with Cyndi Lauper. One is a cover of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by some guy that really doesn't justify its own existence. The other is a cover of "Money Changes Everything" by Partisan. It starts out about one cowbell short of just being noise, but it turns into something else. Something that I love. Something wonderful. And then it kind of loses itself toward the end. But it really works for about a minute and fifteen seconds, and that's a hell of a lot longer than most songs can manage.

You can hear about 30-seconds of a new song, "Pork and Beans," at amazon.com. It's not bad, for 30 seconds. The art for the single, however, is atrocious.

There are some news updates on their website too, for those keeping track--it's likely the record will be released June 17th, it's likely "Pork and Beans" is the first single, it's likely that red will be the color of the album. It's also possible that all info could change. They're being vague and weird. Shocker.

Also, in better news, you can help Rivers write a song! Because apparently he can't deliver mediocrity on his own anymore. So if you don't like what he's doing, now's your chance to guide him the right direction:

Rivers Cuomo, the lead singer and writer for rock band Weezer, is employing YouTubers to help him write a song in steps. The first step was the mood, the second was the title, the third was chord progression. Yesterday he posted this video about the arrangement.

Check out willvideoforfood.com for all the info.

(ht stereogum)

Dear hiphop know-it-alls: What is the De la Soul song containing the phrase, "Diane, Diane..."?

I can hear it in my head, and if I had to, I'd guess it was on ...is Dead, but I also get the feeling that one of the Line Out smarties (lar, Ndrwmtsn, I'm looking at you) has the information hanging out in his brain.

Thanks for your help.

It's called "Pity & Fear" and you can hear a snippet of it on NPR's All Songs Considered.

The new album, Narrow Stairs, will be released on May 13th.

Although I spent all Friday evening insisting she did, she didn't.

Denise Williams sang it.

To my credit, though, the dude who wrote the song also wrote Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance With Somebody." So you can see how I'd get confused.

Mew's "The Zookeeper's Boy" into My Bloody Valentine. A little obvious, but still. Nice work, computer.

The round of sweet 16 had some sweet action. (See that action – here). Lemmy Kilmister pulled off a stunning upset of Kaz from PWRFL Power. Now there are 8. You decide who advances:

16. Lemmy Kilmister – Motorhead
8. Jackie Hell
5. Barfly – the Saturday Knights
4. King Buzzo – the Melvins
3. EYE - Boredoms
11. Ms. Kristen Dupré - Elliot Spitzer prostitute
10. Tim Harrington - Les Savy Fav
2. Slats – Pain Cocktail

And the tip:

You know how you come across a word you don't know and then look it up and then suddenly you start to notice the word everywhere, as if the whole world is responding to the new information you've just acquired? Well, a couple months ago I was reading Mary McCarthy's novel The Group (1954) and, on the first page, came across this incredibly long kick-ass sentence (which, in addition to containing the word in question [I've bolded it], will give you a full sense of what The Group is all about):

They were in the throes of discovering New York, imagine it, when some of them had actually lived here all their lives, in tiresome Georgian houses full of waste space in the Eighties or Park Avenue apartment buildings, and they delighted in such out-of-the-way corners as this, with its greenery and Quaker meeting-house in red brick, polished brass, and white trim next to the wine-purple Episcopal church--on Sundays, they walked with their beaux across the Brooklyn Bridge and poked into the sleepy Heights section of Brooklyn; they explored residential Murray Hill and quaint McDougal Alley and Patchin Place and Washington Mews with all the artists' studios; they loved the Plaza Hotel and the fountain there and the green mansarding of the Savoy Plaza and the row of horsedrawn hacks and elderly coachmen, waiting, as in a French Place, to tempt them to a twilight right through Central Park.

I read that and then stood up and went to my huge, semi-trusty, illustrated American Heritage and found the entry for "mansard":

If you can't read that, the definition is: "A roof having two slopes on all four sides, with the lower slope almost vertical and the upper almost horizontal. Also called a 'mansard roof.'"

Imagine my delight when putting on the Vampire Weekend record a month or two after stumbling upon the word in The Group, with its marvelous first song "Mansard Roof," which itself begins: I see a mansard roof through the trees... The word is back! It had its day in the sunshine back when The Group was a best-seller, and it's having another day in the sunshine now. (Tonight.)

Coming home from work I stepped into the elevator, put my head against the wall, and sang, "It sums up the anxious way I am." I sang it just like Scott Reitherman sings it, the "way," "I," and "am" three ascending notes in a very satisfying chord. It's especially satisfying if you're ascending in an elevator and it's one of those old-fashioned ones with a window and you can see each floor. The band is Throw Me the Statue, the song is "Written in Heart Signs, Faintly," and it's been in my head for going on nine hours now.

There are women in Ballard handing out dandelions to everyone passing by. The sun and raindrops are trading places in the sky what seems like every 10 minutes. It's cold when the wind blows, but comfortable enough for just a light sweatshirt. There's more color on the trees and the ground than there is at any other point in the year. It's spring. Officially.

And it's time to retire the sad, self-defeating tracks that got me through the winter.

So today, I'm listening to a lot of Anathallo, some bright pop punk (I'll spare you the details of which bands), Radiohead's more optimistic tracks (the new album especially), a little dance music a la Erasure, any Velvet Teen songs that don't make me want to die... basically, anything that will chase away what remains of the cold, grey, winter.

A current favorite, "Hanasakajiijii (Four: A Great Wind, More Ash)" by Anathallo.

Wanting more, I asked friends what their favorite "Welcome Spring" track is.

A few answers:

"Wouldn't It Be Nice" by the Beach Boys
"A Song About Driving" by Racetrack

"Anything from Sigur Ros' Takk--it sounds as if the clouds are parting."
"Sweet Sugar Blues" by Ella Fitzgerald
And... Skrewdriver

Some of my friends are werid...

Anyway, speaking of Racetrack, that makes me think of the song "The War At Home," from their last EP, which features Sean Nelson on vocals. Another great bright song to welcome the sun...

"The War At Home"

Tonight at the Safeway at 15th Avenue and East John, a woman was putting the whitest products imaginable onto the conveyor belt--two 12 packs of Little Debbie Nutty Bars, a Rubbermaid pitcher called Mixer Mate, a copy of Brides magazine, a giant box of Lipton tea, and a bag of mini carrots--while Toto's song "Africa" played from the speakers in the ceiling.

First, listen to the first part of the song "Rebellion (Lies)" by the Arcade Fire.

Now listen to the first bit of this song, "Skeleton Man," by Evangelicals.

It's not just me, Pitchfork made the same observation.

The first taste of their May 13th release Narrow Stairs.