All the Blacks

Prince, Jay-Z, Metallica, or Spinal Tap?

No matter how often somebody proclaims that ________ is the new black, the old black will always be.... black. Black is so suffused with symbolic meaning that it will always be a cultural mainstay, not just of fashion design, but for song titles, album titles, and, for our purposes today, band names. There are a boatload of band names using the word "black," and as part of a recurring feature here, we're going to try and sort them out.

So let's leave aside for the moment Frank Black and Clint Black; I don't think anybody's going to get those two mixed up. Likewise the suddenly ubiquitous Rebecca Black. Set aside also classic rockers Black Sabbath, and the Black Crowes, who are classic rockers born too late. Hardcore heroes Black Flag are  defunct since 1986. Reggae giants Black Uhuru dissolved their classic lineup about the same time. The Happy Mondays spinoff Black Grape is also out of business, as are several other succinctly named bands called Black.

And to simplify matters, let's briefly talk about the hip-hop bands first. The Black Eyed Peas are megastars now, and even if you didn't see the last Super Bowl, need no introduction. Highbrow rappers Mos Def and Talib Kweli put out one 1998 album together as Black Star, titled, helpfully, Mos Def & Talib Kweli are Black Star. Another literate alt-rap duo, Blackalicious, picked up the mantle in 1999, and are about to release their fourth album.

For our purposes, we're trying to tell the difference between 21st century rock bands with confusingly similar names. And that still leaves us with, at a minimum, the Black Keys, Black Lips, Black Kids, Black Angels, Black Dub, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, and Black Moth Super Rainbow.

This Kills Me

Here's another in an occasional series in which we try to make sense of confusingly similar band names – in this case, the Kills and the Killers. If you already know both these bands, you can pretty much tell the difference. It's the difference between stadium shows and dimly lit nightclubs.

Ritter and Rouse

I speak to you tonight of two men named Josh. They have much in common besides the initial letter of their surnames. Both of them are accomplished singer-songwriters. Both are storytellers, their songs filled with wayward lovers and other well-drawn characters. Both work in more or less the same idiom: mostly acoustic, folk-tinged Americana, with occasional pop flourishes. Both are midwesterners, born in Idaho and Nebraska, respectively. Both were born in the early- to mid-70s, four years apart, and both began recording in the late 90s. Both started out with spare, impressive debut albums and have matured musically like bottles of old wine.

So how the hell are you supposed to tell them apart?

Well, Ritter is fitter, he's the heavy hitter, and more liter...ary. That is, he's probably the better-known Josh R, so his bankbook may be fitter. His lyrics are a bit denser, more mercurial, inventive, indelible, so he's the  heavy hitter of the two - with all due respect (which is considerable). And he's written a book, so it's not just his songwriting that's more literary.

Meanwhile Rouse has helpfully named one of his recent albums Country Mouse City House. So your mnemonic device for these guys is definitely the rhyming strategy.

Of the two, Rouse is the more prolific – though just as terrific – with nearly twice as many albums in the same decade-plus-change the two of them have been at it. He likes to release a steady stream of EPs, rarities and downloads to keep his fanbase happy. Rouse also sings just as sweetly in Spanish as he does in English, and his lilting voice is reminiscent of Paul Simon's.

Both of them are well worth checking out, if your taste runs to say, Ryan Adams/Whiskeytown, the Jayhawks, the Pernice Brothers, Ron Sexsmith or Todd Snider. For you older folks, think maybe Jackson Browne. Or Greg Brown.

So here is Josh's website, while Josh's website is over here

And here are some slick videos from each of them, both of which start with somebody walking on a beach. This is getting spooky, guys:

Josh Ritter/Change of Time
Josh Rouse/Quiet Town

Hoof, Hunter and Tick

This is another installment of an occasional ZepBlog feature that helps with confusion over similar band names.

Today we have three wonderful bands, each of whom is deserving of wider recognition. Now if you like one, you won't necessarily enjoy the other two. But I love 'em all, and it's unfortunate that they'd be so easy to get mixed up that people will just turn in exasperation to something less ambiguously named, like the Black Eyed Peas, instead.

So, how to tell 'em apart? Easier than you think. Deer Tick has an alt.country, Americana feel, so the mnemonic device is to think of the tick as a mainly rural phenomenon.

Meanwhile, Deerhunter and Deerhoof have some overlap in terms of their general indie-rock sensibilities, but with at least one notable difference: Deerhunter is led by Bradford Cox, possessor of a Y chromosome, while Deerhoof is fronted by Satomi Matsuzaki, who has a pair of X chromosomes.

Parade of Wolves

This is the first installment of an occasional feature in which I try to clear up confusion between similar band names. There are a lot of bands out there, and if you haven't heard them - or have only heard them fleetingly, it's easy to get them mixed up.

The Screen Actors Guild has a rule that you have to change your name if it's the same as another actor's - hence Bill Macy became William H. Macy so as not to get confused with the sitcom husband on Maude. In the music world, this has led to formulations like the Charlatans UK, the English Beat and the London Suede.

But even without coincidences like that, a lot of artists end up with same-sounding monikers. Before I got to know them, I would mix up Elvin Bishop and Elton John, or U2, UB40 and UFO.

So a couple of posts down, I mentioned Wolfmother and Wolf Parade. But it's worse than I thought. Even if you don't count Los Lobos, there are a lot of "Wolf" bands out there: