Magic fossils

One album I've been giving a fair amount of attention over the last month is the Magic Kids debut, Memphis. Magic Kids shared that split 7" with Smith Westerns last year, but the commercial-grade twee that "Superball" did so well hardly captures what matters about Magic Kids: They're twee-ish alright, but there's a glossy shimmer to it that re-captures what I'm about to coin '70s chatterbox pop—it's all centered around an endless dialogue that never actually happens.



Perfect example: "Daydream Believer." It's head-in-the-clouds infatuation brought down to earth only through pop melodies. I like to think of Magic Kids as the Monkees to Smith Westerns' Beatles for basically that reason. On the surface both of their intentions are good; but while Magic Kids dream big and outwardly, Smith Westerns hardly muster the courage to think. Magic Kids buy new wardrobes for the dance; Smith Westerns buy 40s and talk about what girls they would have danced with had they not gotten so loaded. It's probably more rewarding to root for Magic Kids. I can relate better to Smith Westerns. Bingo bango.



You know what else I find myself revisiting just about every week is that self-titled Beach Fossils release. Nothing about it is spectacular—hardly any of it is even noteworthy. But its pop sensibilities are so fundamental and exact that it's usually the most natural choice to hear whenever I have a break.

Pitchfork.tv did a pretty sweet feature on this one time when they let Beach Fossils play their office party, and you can stream that whole thing on the pitchfork.tv site. I've embedded (probably) my favorite below:



They remind me quite a bit of the Drums, only they're not as eccentric (that is, gratingly poppy—more my speed) and their album is better (that is, more consistent). It's a lot more self-deprecating too, which I guess is part of it being more my speed. They get a lot of lushness out of how minimalist their instrumentation is, though, and I'm down with that.

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