mixtape maestro (2.0)

Coming across like a long-forgotten 60′s/ 70′s-based treasure one discovers when curiously rummaging through their parents’ vinyl collection, Olympia, Washington-birthed act LAKE have spent the past four years slowly winning over fans with an addicting brew of gorgeously constructed unisex vocal interchanges and a hazed-over and charmingly child-like lo-fi twee-pop sound that, when leaving the speakers, seems to instantly dissipate into an air-sweetening mist.

And going by the two early leaked previews of their forthcoming third full length Let’s Build A Roof, the follow-up to last year’s much-acclaimed K Records debut Oh The Places We’ll Go, we’re betting that that audience will only continue to expand further.

“Don’t Give Up”, the most recent of the two leaks, arises as an immediate favorite with it’s happy-go-lucky, Fleetwood Mac-ish swing and female vocals that cleverly disguise the lyrics’ adult-age concerns with some lightly-toned perkiness. But it’s the mid-summer-unleashed “Madagascar” that’ll really slay you, thanks to the hypnotizing magic of it’s sluggish, blue-eyed dub-funk and the group’s playful vocal arrangement on the hook.

Let’s Build A Roof arrives October 6th.

DL: “Don’t Give Up” (alt)

DL: “Madagascar” (alt)

A comforting sigh of wispy, indie pop-meets-country-meets-girl group pleasantry filled with heartache-themed tales that prove you’re not alone in your post-breakup despair. That’s what we all have come to appreciate from Scotland’s Camera Obscura and, once again, that’s what is given on their fourth album (and 4AD label debut), My Maudlin Career, a stellar set of eleven tracks that, even on first listen, already feel like “classics” that have been adored over for years.

Mixtape Maestro’s favorite is “You Told A Lie”, a wintry-hazed midtempo that opens with lead singer/ principal songwriter Tracyanne Campbell feebly cooing a capella after a still-cherished old lover (“No need to convince me you were a catch”) before being swept away by a strings-adorned, yester-age C&W sway.

The soundtrack may sound sweet, but beneath it’s retro beauty, lyrics of a bitter and insecure slant illustrate a much sadder state of things as she over-analyzes why their romance went awry. “Who was it that said that love conquers all?/ Oh, he was a fool ’cause it doesn’t add up,” goes one striking couplet, while later Campbell frets over and over on a passing line her ex once threw at her about her eyes being the “coldest blue”.

What did he mean? Was it a loving compliment or a cruel diss? Sadly, she never gets an answer, and is only left to ruminate over the somber reality that she’s “stuck with them and they’re stuck on you”. Masterful.

DL: “You Told A Lie” (alt)

Pushing jazz label Blue Note into a new era, The Bird and the Bee, the twee LA pairing of producer Greg Kurstin and singer/ songwriter Inara George, are obviously not all about Miles Davis. Incorporating French-pop cool, off-beat charm and cheery, keyboard-based arrangements occasionally splashed with more typical jazz instrumentation in their self-titled debut, The Bird and the Bee offer a new type of avant-pop approach to the genre that’s appealing despite the fact that it ventures into elevator music territory more often than not.

The band’s claim-to-fame arrived with this winter’s #1 dance hit, “Fucking Boyfriend”, a twinkling mid-tempo centered on a woman frustrated by the apple of her eye being such a tease. Placed against syncopated Morse code synthesizers seemingly lifted from an old Sega Genesis RPG, George angelically sings of a male friend whose intentions aren’t so clear. Holding on to some distant hope, the singer sings with the purity of a virgin suffering from the worst case of female blue balls (“Are you working up to something?/ But give me almost nothing/ Keep me helpless up to something on my knees”). The innocence of her vocal approach is quickly lost when it comes to the desperate chorus (“Would you ever be me/ Would you be my fucking boyfriend?”), the only moment when some sense of anger bubbles to the rim. But like the icy instruments Kurstin madly orchestrates in the background, her fantasy suitor remains cold to her, rudely ignoring her needs.

Even without the sudden bite of the expletive-laced hook, “Fucking Boyfriend”‘s intriguing, child-like characteristics and strong sense of lyricism would make this loose interpretation of a jazz outfit very unique indeed.

To listen to the track, check out the band’s MySpace.