Philly hardcore dudes Nothing dive deep into the shoegaze pool on their latest. Tired of Tomorrow hits hard, with cymbals crashing into textured walls of guitar on opener “Fever Queen.” Their grounding in hardcore gives added oomph to dreamy power-pop tunes like “Vertigo Flowers.” Songs like “A.C.D.” and “Curse of the Sun” recall the best of heavy ’90s alt-rock (pre nu-metal), reminiscent of bands like Helmet and Smashing Pumpkins. Nothing are very indebted in particular to Slowdive and Chapterhouse, but they’re in on the joke — one song is even called “Nineteen Ninety Heaven.” And with touches of violin and piano on ballads like “Everyone Is Happy,” or the Morricone riff and desert sway of “The Dead Are Dumb,” Nothing’s second album is varied and balanced. While some bands remain allergic to distortion since the ’90s, Tired of Tomorrow is a big, fuzzy embrace of distorted anthems.
Record Store Day is coming April 16, bringing loads of exclusive records to record stores around the country. You can see everything that’s coming to Amoeba here and everything we have in store for the day thus far here, including sales, DJs and more. Here are 10 releases we’re looking forward to picking up on RSD.
David Bowie – The Man Who Sold The World [Picture Disc]
David Bowie’s unfortunate passing has left us all with a thirst for all things Bowie. Some of his best-loved albums were recently re-released on vinyl, and the latest to get the reissue treatment is his third album. It’s best known for the title track, especially after being covered by Nirvana on their Unplugged LP, but The Man Who Sold the World represents a turning point in Bowie’s career as his music turned heavier and lyrics darker, setting an important precedent for goth rock, among other influences the album would have.
We’ve told you about the heavy hitters to check out in late summer, but there are always exciting releases bubbling just beneath the surface that are worth your attention as well. Here are five to look out for:
Out Aug. 5
Not that “Twin Peaks.” This one’s a kickass power-pop band from Chicago whose sophomore LP is full of smart, lean songs with a lot of heart. One taste of a song like the two-minute “Flavor” and you might be hooked for life.
Out Aug. 5
Crazy Clown Time, released in November 2011 on Play It Again Sam, was recorded over a period of several months at Lynch's personal studio near Mulholland Drive with engineer and collaborator Dean Hurley. As you might expect from the director of Erasherhead, Mulholland Drive and Twin Peaks, his music - much like his video for "Crazy Clown Time" - is echoey, weird, repetitive, foreboding, hypnotic, and fascinating.
Watch David Lynch's video for his single "Crazy Clown Time":
Watch our interview with Mr. Lynch when he visited Amoeba Hollywood in 2008 for the release of David Lynch The Lime Green Set DVD box set:
Little Jimmy looking big
Uh, did I mention that, a couple weeks ago, Little Jimmy Scott came into the jazz room at Amoeba Music Hollywood? I used up a whole box of tissue, my mind was so blown – and I’m not easily star-struck. Most of the people I’d like to meet are dead (a quality I admire in a person). Never have I been as giddy and star-struck as I was at meeting Jimmy Scott. I cried. I actually cried! Like I was a seventeen-year-old girl at a Beatles concert in ’64. Okay, I didn’t grab the sides of my face and scream – not externally, anyway.
He was sweet like an angel descending on the city for a day to offer a glimpse of light unsoiled by our planet’s spiritual smog. His voice was unmistakable, his smile generous, and he patiently listened to all our gushing with the grace you’d expect from your favorite Kindergarten teacher. The fact that he was wheelchair-bound only enhanced the sense that he was visiting royalty, forever receiving people at his throne.
Poor health has made his already diminutive body more frail, and the stiffness in his hands made for an other-worldly contrast to his skin, which was soft and warm like a newborn infant.
He was flanked by a small film crew from Germany who were shooting a documentary on the making of his next album which, they reported, would be of the blues genre. They were excited that, in the employees of Amoeba, they finally found some young people who not only knew who Jimmy Scott was, but were fans. One of them bullied my fellow co-worker, Lucas, and I into being interviewed for their documentary, despite my emphatic explanation that I was too shy for interviews and anyway, English was my sixteenth language. (I acquiesced after they called my bluff and offered to allow me to answer questions in my native Ket.)