Clamor in the Garden

The other day, as I was sitting at work pondering why the men in the office seem to use the bathroom (which is directly in front of me) so frequently, I couldn’t get this catchy tune out of my head. “Party baby, get on the dance floor, cos partly maybe, I wanna dance with you…” along with an intoxicating mix of instruments and sounds. WTF could it be? The last time I was in the music “know” was in college when I swayed to Pearl Jam and the like in my flannel grunge shirt and ripped jeans while trippin’ on shrooms (Just kidding, Mom). Living in Spain for ten years may have broadened my horizons, but it dampened my music taste, as only crappy American songs made it over there. Mysteriously, Dire Straits was HUGE among young folk (must be a David Hasselhoff in Germany phenomenon).

But I digress. It suddenly occurred to me where the song came from. It was the Subterraneans—my brother’s band—a cool fusion of indie rock and poetic rap vocals. He’d recently played me the demo of his new album, Clamor in the Garden (Pollen Records) and it was literally implanted into my head "Inception" style. (You can buy it here on itunes, mmmkay?)

Anyone who knows the Subs, and believe me, I do, knows that their music is hypnotic, intense, chill, inventive and intelligent. Rather than the “F Yo Mamma” style of rap, the word mincing is amazing. Here’s an excerpt from my fav of all time, “Climbing, Falling” from The Now That It’s Sinking In EP:

When you’re climbing…
And your face is in amazement and the pace of finger placement all relates to how you chase things
But when you fall…
Everything gets assorted, so when it hits the floor you need to sort it

Clamor In the Garden differs from the Subs’ first two albums (A Bellow Below and The Now That It’s Sinking In EP) in that it’s a bit faster paced and even more inventive then the first two (there's one song that has a country influence. Country and rap you say whilst wrinkling your nose in disgust? I swear, it works!) My fav songs on the album are: “Partly Maybe” and “Beautiful Encounter.”

So for the love of Hasselhoff, buy the freakin album—and while you’re at it, spread the word to anyone else you know who would like to rid the world of the Biebers and the Jonas and the Montanas and all the other crap that the young whippersnappers call music these days!