Artists

“I go on describing this place / And the way it feels to live and die.” — Mount Eerie, “Through The Trees, Pt. 2”I once heard a professor say that Robert Schumann’s music only makes sense if you’re in a certain part of Germany. I tend to disagree with those kinds of claims, but I’d also be lying if I said that Phil Elverum’s music doesn’t strongly evoke the magic, mystery, and feeling of the Pacific Northwest. And it’s not just me, it’s a common point made about his songs: it’s in the imagery of the music, between the trees and the ocean roars, through the black metal interludes, behind the Twin Peaks synths and references; his music is about space and feeling, and the spaces are particular.His early work as The Microphones was bombastic, experimental, and seriously affecting, capturing through music and lyrics exactly how it feels to be a young person and to embody a wild existence. If you’re like me and this music has been with you for a while, you probably straighten up in your seat and unfocus your eyes a bit when I mention The Glow, Pt. 2. It’s real.As Elverum transitioned from The Microphones to Mount Eerie, his songs became a little clearer, a little more adult, and a little more enveloping. His 2012 releases form a perfect snapshot of his tremendous ability to evoke all things at once: The intimate, almost trembling Clear Moon fuses airy guitars and shuffling percussion to create distinctly breezy-yet-serious tableaus, while Ocean Roar is an explosive, electronic-infused synthesis of post-rock and black metal. Taken together, these albums represent the complex essence of Mount Eerie.The initiated and uninitiated alike can prepare themselves for Elverum’s newest work, the haunting and raw A Crow Looked At Me, which deals with the tragic loss of his wife, musician/artist Geneviève Castrée, from pancreatic cancer in July 2016. In this intensely personal album, he pursues brave, new paths of truth and sound, while still sounding like classic Elverum. Get brought up to speed with this playlist of his work as Mount Eerie and The Microphones.

Indie-rock / dream-pop mastermind Jack Tatum, aka Wild Nothing, might be ever so slightly influenced by the 80s. With the lush, shimmering synth + guitars of his latest single "Shallow Water" off the upcoming album Indigo (August 31), he - alongside Cam Allen on drums, Benji Lysaght on guitar and Ariel Pink collaborator Jorge Elbrecht producing - has captured a mix between a timeless sound of then with the modern appeal of now. So naturally, when we asked him to make us a playlist, his concoction was right on par. Says Tatum, "This mix is a grab bag of new and old favorites. Most of these tracks are from the 1980s, which should be no surprise coming from me. This is what Ive been listening to at home during the LA heat wave. Everything from early 80s Brazilian pop to Dutch glam rock and contemporary ambient music."Listen above or go right here.

Portland synth-pop quintet Wild Ones recently released their splendorous second record, Mirror Touch. And as singer Danielle Sullivans reveals through her Dowsers playlist, the album’s electro reveries were the product of a very specific process: “I listened to these songs often during the making of Mirror Touch. I would typically take a walk and listen to music in my neighborhood before sitting down to work on a demo. If I ever got completely stuck and hit a wall I would turn off my computer, hit the street, and try again. There’s something about putting a soundtrack to moving scenery that always makes me feel inspired.”—Danielle Sullivan, Wild Ones

Will Saul is among the most trusted names in electronic music. A former A&R wiz for the influential !K7 label, Saul went on to form Aus Music, which released music from the likes of Carl Craig, Joy Orbison, and Actress, among many many others. The label was known for its "prestige" electronic music, but Saul always kept his eyes on the dancefloor, and the music on his label and in his sets was fun and visceral.Saul recently curated Inside Out, a brand new series that invites DJs and producers to blur the boundaries between traditional artist albums and mix compilations. The concept encourages artists to showcase their own music and or the music of those in their own individual circles. The mix will be release digitally and on CD, while a selection of the tracks will also be available on double gatefold vinyl.This playlist is an insight into the musical DNA of Will Saul and contains some of the inspirations behind the Inside Out the compilation. Pick it up here.

The editors at Hip-Hop DX honored the legendary producer by compiling some of his greatest beats. Theyre all essential, and theres a few surprising picks, like A Tribe Called Quests "(Weve Got) Jazz," which Pete claims Q-Tip copied from him, and the Notorious B.I.G.s "Juicy (Remix)," which also involves claims of behind-the-scenes nonsense. The list sticks to the Chocolate Boy Wonders 90s heyday, but his latest work is also worth a listen. -- Mosi Reeves

William Shatner began his outside-the-box musical career in the 60s, recording spoken-word versions of rock hits. In the 2000s, he resumed his recording career, and ever since it has taken him into strange, unexpected territory, with a head-scratching array of collaborators including Henry Rollins, Joe Jackson, Lyle Lovett, Sheryl Crow, Steve Vai, and many more. This year even saw the release of a Shatner Christmas album.Shatners musical moonlighting began while he was still inhabiting the role that would define him for generations of fans: Star Treks Captain James T. Kirk. His 1968 album The Transformed Man found him delivering dramatic, spoken versions (with musical backing) of some of the most popular songs of the era, like Bob Dylans "Mr. Tambourine" and The Beatles "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds." Was he delivering these out-there performances in earnest or with a broad wink? To this date, thats never really been determined, but that nebulousness has always been part of the fun.It took until 2004 for the always-busy actor to finally follow up The Transformed Man. His second album, Has Been, opened with his version of Pulps "Common People," and the rest of the record was occupied with original material, mostly co-written with Ben Folds, that found Shatner doing duets with everyone from Henry Rollins ("I Cant Get Behind That") to Brad Paisley ("Real"). Has Been turned out to be a surprise hit, and it earned such a rapturous reception that Shatner was inspired to embrace music more wholeheartedly than ever before. A string of albums followed over the next several years, each one demonstrating both his eclecticism and his willingness to go out on a limb. In retrospect, its hard to believe it took him so long to tackle the concept of Seeking Major Tom, an album of outer space-themed rock classics like David Bowies "Major Tom," Elton Johns "Rocket Man" (a song hed famously done live on TV but never recorded before), and Duran Durans "Planet Earth."Ponder the Mystery took the trippy themes a step further, as producer Billy Sherwood of Yes helped Shatner create an appropriately interstellar-sounding prog rock album that featured contributions from artists associated with Tangerine Dream, Hawkwind, Frank Zappa, and other art-rock outfits. Never one to be pigeonholed, Shatner followed that cosmic outing with a country album, Why Not Me, co-helmed by Jeff Cook of country superstars Alabama, with original tunes featuring guest appearances by Neal McCoy and Cash Creek.For 2018, Shatner took a simultaneously traditional and typically confounding turn on Shatner Claus, a Christmas album unlike any other. After all, where else are you likely to hear his old pal Henry Rollins shouting along with "Jingle Bells" or Iggy Pop crooning on "Silent Night?"

One of the most elusive, confrontational, and downright bizarre artists to ever grace the pages of rock history, Frank Zappa staked his entire being on messing with people. To outsiders, his music can seem both needlessly intellectual and disgustingly immature, but beneath all his crude jokes and mind-bogglingly complex compositions lies one of the first true avant-garde composers to make major waves in the rock mainstream. His cynical tirades and knotty arrangements certainly have a way of testing his listeners’ limits, yet the magic of Zappa’s music is how much fun the man clearly had designing his eccentric sounds, fusing the worlds of classical music, rhythm and blues, free-form jazz, and comedy as if they were naturally meant to be together all along.As a young L.A. guitarist gigging in the city’s ‘60s freak scene, Zappa immediately stood out from his contemporaries with his staunch anti-drug stance and utter distaste for the entire flower power movement, backing up his satirical and sarcastic music with daring, genre-defying arrangements and serious instrumental chops. Early releases like Freak Out! (1966) embodied Zappa’s sense of humor, but it wasn’t until 1969’s Uncle Meat and Hot Rats that Zappa began to fully let his compositions run wild, incorporating long sections of free improvisation with performances so coordinated and tight that it’s almost hard to believe people actually played them. Zappa’s early phase reached a zenith with his two most popular records to date, Over-Nite Sensation (1973) and Apostrophe (1974), which mixed his juvenile sensibility with a bluesy take on classic rock, making for surprisingly hooky songs that still felt like one big joke.As Zappa’s career went on, he took every possible opportunity to use his music to express his political ire, none more prominently than the filthy-funk epic Joe’s Garage (1979), which envisioned a world where the government has outlawed music. He continued to approach his music from a more serious angle in his later years, commissioning orchestras to perform his work (as on The Yellow Shark) and even pioneering computer music in the late ‘80s on albums like Jazz From Hell. But even at his most academic and studious, Zappa was never one to keep a straight face. Though he died in 1993 of prostate cancer, his sense of irony and musical dexterity has lived on to this day, inspiring everyone from Ariel Pink to Phish.Zappa’s world is certainly a peculiar one, and reconciling his jokey disposition with his outlandish music requires a certain level of patience and adventurousness on the part of the listener. But his music represents a freedom in expression that one rarely sees in the mainstream, a win for the freaks whose legacy continues to endure. To crack the code on one of rock ‘n’ roll’s most mischievous maestros, hit “play” on our mix, and hold on tight.

I wish I had recorded a version of “I’m Going Bananas” at the peak of my career too; it’s what I expect from artists in their imperial phases. Dipping into her work after 2005’s acknowledged Good Album Confessions on a Dance Floor is an enervating affair, though, so I refrained from listing post-2008 options except for inescapable stinkers. Her last acknowledged mega hit “4 Seconds,” for example, tops my list: a compendium of exhausted Timbaland sounds (synth horns), Justin cameos (Madonna would’ve been less desperate if she’d coaxed a writing credit out of him in 2000), and party-over-oops-out-of-time twaddle.It’s a testament to Madonna’s quality control that ninety percent of her singles would pass federal guidelines: attractive melodies, strong hooks, identifiable and charismatic vocal performance. I don’t care about “Material Girl,” “True Blue,” “Express Yourself,” “Rain,” or “Causing a Commotion,” but they don’t offend me. The worst of her big hits remains “Who’s That Girl,” on which she and co-writer Patrick Leonard, gasping for air, reprised the “Oriental” presets first deployed on “La Isla Bonita” and the three other Spanish words that Ms. Ciccone didn’t whisper on that same track. “American Pie” was gruesome when Don McLean sang it in the Nixon era; when Madonna invests its stale pieties with more commitment than is her wont it feels like a betrayal; she’s too smart, too modern, to believe in long-long-time-ago (whatever else she keeps Justin and Avicii’s numbers on her phone). A similar investment in superannuated melodrama sinks the early “Love Don’t Live Here Anymore.”Now for the surprises. I won’t tolerate no votes for Like a Virgin‘s “Shoo Be Doo” and “Stay.” I’ll defend 2015’s Rebel Heart as her most cohesive album since 2005; many tracks give the impression that she actually sat around a room with co-writers the old fashioned way and tossed melodies and lyrical ideas around. Finally, dig past American Life‘s first two singles and what emerges is an album of murmured weirdness unlike anything in her catalog to date. I want a sequel.Visit our affiliate/partner site Humanizing the Vacuum for great lists, commentary, and more.

I know Morrissey is stupid, but it’s a particular kind of stupidity that understands how to use semicolons to mitigate verbosity with racism. That’s a talent I don’t sneeze at. Please note how obvious these titles are. Piers Morgan could have structured a show around them.Visit our affiliate/partner site Humanizing the Vacuum for great lists, commentary, and more.

It should surprise no one that I included a quarter of Pop, released twenty years ago to a reception less derisive than received wisdom would suggest. “Last Night on Earth” remains their direst single — four minutes of nothing. But Rattle and Hum boasts “Angel of Harlem,” Bono’s most embarrassing attempt to connect with a songwriting conceit that is supposed to be a person (don’t ever try personification again, Bono). Also, “Hawkmoon 269,” with more heavy breathing than a telephone stalker and terrible contributions from esteemed organist Bob Dylan.