This new Dios Malos record is pretty bitchin’ kids, I’m warning you now. I liked their last one, but I think these four dudes from the South Bay of LA have out-done themselves this time around. They recorded this puppy up in chilly Seattle with Phil Ek. According to their bio, they picked Phil to work with because of the last Karp 7-inch he did. Anyone who likes Karp is a-ok in my book, ding dong Dios Malos is fucking with your head. "So Do I" is my favorite track on here, I think it’s about doing drugs and not wanting to dying but I could be wrong. Also check out "Feels Good Being Somebody" which Startime posted on their site. Shit rules brah!

(Download - "So Do I")

(Download - "Feels Good Being Somebody")

Dios Malos shows:
september 9 - john anson ford appletheater  w/ m. ward
september 15 - cmj music festival in N.Y. (startime showcase)
september 23 - austin city limits festival
september 24 - STubbs, Austin Tx

My favorite thing about pop music is the means by which some artists attempt — either consciously or unintentionally — to subvert its sugary idealogical simplicity. "She’s My Girl" by the Turtles is a great example of such a subversive song. It hints at being a murder ballad in the vein of antique Americana, while maintaining the pretense of contemporary pop fluff. Of course, the song was never a major hit, but many of the band’s singles did fare well on the charts, despite the Bay Area psych-pop group’s penchant for dark, political themes amid catchy hooks.
   Most of you would immediately recognize the Turtles classic song "Happy Together" and perhaps a fraction of you would be able to actually name the band that wrote & performed it. Regardless, The Turtles were a pretty consistent hit-machine of subversive ideas wrapped up in extremely catchy music.  The slinking bass line and ominous, fetishistic tone to the lyrics reminds me of antique murder ballads like "Pretty Polly" as the singer intones in a frightening falsetto, "She’s my girl/ I took her away last night/Up in the sky." The changes in time signature and leaps in vocal range evoke a certain frenzied emotion that makes the song particularly eerie.

(Dowload - "She’s My Girl")

Although his two elder brothers, Ted and Chris Leo have made bigger names for themselves amongst the indie-rock elite, singer/guitarist Danny Leo put his siblings to shame on his expansive and daring Y2K debut album under the moniker The Holy Childhood.
   Not only is it expansive and daring (I’ll explain in a moment), but the album, Up With What I’m Down With was one of the coolest albums to be released that year. Why? Because, Danny Leo can’t really sing, but judging by his songwriting talents, he’s obviously familiar with the notes he’s trying to reach. But, instead of talking or screaming or hiring someone else to do it for him, he daringly strains, often just a half-step shy, or a whole step sharp of the note he’s aiming to hit. And, most of the time, when he’s not eager to belt out that soaring wail (only to gloriously miss) he’s got a passionate, signature delivery which hearkens to other great balladeers: Bob Dylan, Tom Waits, et al. What’s even more compelling about The Holy Childhood, is its use of a chorus of angelic female vocalists who actually do hit all the notes for which Leo yearns. Therefore, atop the beautifully swaggering compositions of piano, guitars, drums and occasional brass are lush layers of voices that harmonize with Leo’s yelp to form minor chords atop the major chord backing tracks. Just like X had a unique finesse to the way John Doe would hold the root note to whatever banshee wail note Exene would stumble upon. It’s an old trick, but the singers must have perfect intonation for it to work properly. And, The Holy Childhood finds that perfect trinity of musical transubstantiation. Not only is it vocally intriguing and unique, the album is rife with powerful songwriting and beautifully simple melodies. "Shame" sets the record’s tone by starting with Leo’s lone, warbling voice smeared over strummed guitar chords. Male voices begin to harmonize with Leo as his voice leaps to a flat yelp, bleating, "I seem to think this whole union is a shame." Laid-back saloon piano and drums stagger into the mix as the song climaxes and segues into the Elliot Smith-esque opening riff of the second track, which soon spills into a brassy barroom sway. Danny Leo is quite apparently a fantastic and versatile songwriter, and he’ll eventually earn the ear of the multitudes who may chuckle at his strained voice. I won’t compare him to Bob Dylan, but, hey, the kid’s only in his early 20s and immediately one of the most compelling voices in independent music. Too bad he hasn’t remained very prolific since this debut, but I’m sure there’s more to come eventually. Up with whatever he’s down with? You’re goddamn right.

Buy the whole album direct from the Gern Blandsten label site: Here

(Download - "Shame")

(Download - "Fat Tuesday Everyday")