I get frustrated with people who say things like “There’s no good music any more,” as though some previous time (usually their own adolescence and young adulthood) held the key to all good things. Actually, there’s lots of great new music of all sorts — it just has a hard time finding a place on airwaves dominated by “classic rock,” which caters to the selfish stinginess of the 60’s and early 70’s. I say this as a fan and follower of the Beach Boys, the Who, Pink Floyd and many other great bands who wind up on those classic rock stations — I just wish the format would open up to include new artists.

Luckily we have the internet (including iTunes), satellite radio, and Indie 103.1. Between those three venues, some terrific new music gets out.

Three albums in particular I want to plug (and put into the ears of those who think “good music” ended decades ago, whether they agree with me or not):

1. “The Good, the Bad, and the Queen” by, um, an unnamed band that insists its name is not the same name as its album. (Officially, the band has no name.) The band includes Damon Albarn (Gorillaz, Blur), Paul Simonon of the Clash, the guitarist of the Verve, and Fela Kuti’s old drummer. That’s a diverse bunch. The producer is Danger Mouse (of Gnarls Barkley, another recent fave of mine, as well as The Gray Album), and the atmosphere is a decided mix of drug-induced-experimental Beach Boys, early Pink Floyd just before Syd Barrett fried his brain, the Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band, and, um, a seedy carnival in town for one night. You haven’t heard new anything that sounded like this in more than 30 years. I’m sure Van Dyke Parks owns multiple copies. I love this album, and if you’re like most people you’ll absolutely hate it — so you’re forewarned.

“Return to Cookie Mountain” by TV on the Radio. If “The Good, the Bad, the Queen” is a creepy clown acid trip, this album is the soundtrack to that post-apocalyptic Cormac McCarthy novel I keep talking up. I’m so taken with “Wolf Like Me,” which I had heard all of twice, that I had a dream in which I was listening to it; I guess it made an impression. I saw this band two years ago when they opened for Franz Ferdinand at the Greek, and at the time I thought this was quite possibly the worst band I’d ever seen (a distinction soon achieved by The Polyphonic Spree, who opened for Brian Wilson and who were loudly and justly hooted and laughed at by whole sections of the Hollywood Bowl). I couldn’t imagine the raves they’d earned from people like David Bowie, whose opinion always counts. Even while I thought TV on the Radio was bad, very bad, I also could see that they had probably alienated some very key people at the Greek, i.e., the people working lights and sound, because they were mostly unlit and had a sound mix so bad I felt we were listening to a band playing underwater and on a distant planet. Listening to this record proves once again that Mr. Bowie is wise in all things.

While Pere Ubu is in no way a new band, “Why I Hate Women” is a new album by a band that continues to change. At times I find myself wondering if this may not be the best album in their 30-year history. They actually pull off what amounts to a blues song with “Blue Velvet,” featuring a haunting harmonica turn by Robert Kidney (The Numbers Band, the Golden Palominos). That song is bracketed by the atmospheric small-town ghost story of “Babylonian Warehouses” and the teenage raveup “Caroleen”; together these become a mini-suite probably never equaled in the history of the band. The rest of the album, especially “Love Song,” is just a strong. Vocalist David Thomas assays the neurotic subconscious of lost people on empty roads, but it is Robert Wheeler, playing theremin and synthesizers, whose sonic architectures evoke alien landscapes rarely explored.

Not to your tastes? I understand. But now more than ever there is a breadth of new music of all sorts, utterly available if you can get past the urgent determination of the mainstream radio dial.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, March 20th, 2007 at 10:54 pm and is filed under On being, Thoughts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.