Spring Break
Best new band for the new year: Now, Now Every Children
Alex McElroy
Issue date: 1/9/09 Section: Diversions
By Alex McElroy
The Daily Barometer
Is there any reason to be in a band anymore? Young bands plod through their 20s on independent labels, unheard of, living off MySpace's respirator, with the hopes of someday entering mainstream media: a world of drugs and lust, where CDs are downloaded - au gratis - by adoring fans. Even the primary reason for being in a band - getting laid - is losing steam; everyone knows that groupies prefer Diversions journalists over hip, metaphorical songsters.
But even in this era, Now, Now Every Children refuses to succumb to the pressures of bright futures and 401(k)s.
"Music is all I want to do," lead singer Cacie Dalager said when asked if the drift toward downloading ever makes life as a musician too difficult.
She admitted that though it's tricky with music piracy, during high school she found herself unable to concentrate on anything but the lyrics flickering through her brain, resulting in her practicing guitar in favor of class. If her life was a corny movie, Dalager would've gone to college, pursued a career in management, and at 30-something with 2.5 kids crying at her feet, her high school days would flash back, inspiring her to rekindle her true passion: music.
Luckily for us, Cacie and Brad Hale (drums) kept writing songs together after composing a tribute for a graduating friend. When Dalager's melancholy, siren-like voice is poured over Hale's frantic but controlled drumming and shaken with synth, the result is intoxicating. Her voice has been called "innocuously earnest;" but it's as innocuous as Hemingway's prose is top-heavy. She admits to a "morbid songwriting process … using deeply personal events," leaving us with lines like, "I can't feel the way your parents did/ And I can't make him take back what he said to you."
But because her voice is soft, listeners skim the lyrics, assuming they're just as innocent as the sound. If anything, Dalager's voice is the comforting knockout gas before heart surgery: a dreary lull smoothly enveloping a listener from the true danger of the meaning. In many bands, female vocals hinder the true potential of the metaphorical weight of the song. Now, Now's songwriting toes the line of Headlights and Mates of State, bands often thought of as pristine because their female singers lack the two-pack-a-day gruff of Courtney Love.
The Daily Barometer
Is there any reason to be in a band anymore? Young bands plod through their 20s on independent labels, unheard of, living off MySpace's respirator, with the hopes of someday entering mainstream media: a world of drugs and lust, where CDs are downloaded - au gratis - by adoring fans. Even the primary reason for being in a band - getting laid - is losing steam; everyone knows that groupies prefer Diversions journalists over hip, metaphorical songsters.
But even in this era, Now, Now Every Children refuses to succumb to the pressures of bright futures and 401(k)s.
"Music is all I want to do," lead singer Cacie Dalager said when asked if the drift toward downloading ever makes life as a musician too difficult.
She admitted that though it's tricky with music piracy, during high school she found herself unable to concentrate on anything but the lyrics flickering through her brain, resulting in her practicing guitar in favor of class. If her life was a corny movie, Dalager would've gone to college, pursued a career in management, and at 30-something with 2.5 kids crying at her feet, her high school days would flash back, inspiring her to rekindle her true passion: music.
Luckily for us, Cacie and Brad Hale (drums) kept writing songs together after composing a tribute for a graduating friend. When Dalager's melancholy, siren-like voice is poured over Hale's frantic but controlled drumming and shaken with synth, the result is intoxicating. Her voice has been called "innocuously earnest;" but it's as innocuous as Hemingway's prose is top-heavy. She admits to a "morbid songwriting process … using deeply personal events," leaving us with lines like, "I can't feel the way your parents did/ And I can't make him take back what he said to you."
But because her voice is soft, listeners skim the lyrics, assuming they're just as innocent as the sound. If anything, Dalager's voice is the comforting knockout gas before heart surgery: a dreary lull smoothly enveloping a listener from the true danger of the meaning. In many bands, female vocals hinder the true potential of the metaphorical weight of the song. Now, Now's songwriting toes the line of Headlights and Mates of State, bands often thought of as pristine because their female singers lack the two-pack-a-day gruff of Courtney Love.
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Travis
posted 1/15/09 @ 8:42 AM PST
best article on NNEC I've read so far
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