What do you do when the King of Pop dies? Why, you listen to the music, of course. And what wonderful music it was, and still is: funky, soulful, danceable, intense, plaintive, and catchy beyond catchy.

Nothing can get a crowd moving like those opening beats from “Billie Jean” and just try to listen to “Thriller” without mimicking those zombie dance moves. And let’s not forget “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough”, “Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’”, “Beat It”, “P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)”, “Bad”, “Man in the Mirror”, “Smooth Criminal”... the list goes on. A lesser artist would probably give anything to have just one of those hits, but Jackson had them all, and he made it look, and sound, so easy.

But with someone as iconic as Michael Jackson, you can’t simply stop with the music. He was too big, too influential, too eccentric. However, when we’re confronted by the death of someone as singular and iconic as Jackson, there’s a temptation to focus on the person’s extremes, and we run the risk of attempting to make sense of the loss of a caricature rather than a human being.

Michael Jackson was one of the greatest performers of all time. It’s not even worth trying to deny that. The glove. The jacket. The moonwalk. The award ceremony performances. The music videos. The singles, including those from the days of The Jackson 5. They all add up to something that will never be rivaled nor equaled. And any attempts to do so will simply reveal the pretenders to the throne for what they are.

Michael Jackson was also a deeply flawed, broken, and lonely individual. His many eccentricities hinted at that. Some of them, such as sleeping in a hyperbaric oxygen chamber, were false. Others were—let’s face it—harmless, but were nevertheless fodder for the media circus. However, there were other things in Jackson’s life that can’t be so easily brushed aside. There were failed marriages. Charges of child endangerment. Struggles with drug addiction. Bad business deals. The plastic surgery. A tumultuous childhood that contained both abuse and unbelievable stardom. And of course, allegations of child sexual abuse.

To be completely honest with ourselves and Michael Jackson’s legacy, we must recognize and deal with both of these extremes. And therein we find the true sorrow: Michael Jackson was a supremely gifted individual whose God-given talents were ultimately squandered, both by his own mistakes as well as by the vagaries of a culture who loves to both canonize and crucify its celebrities. And the final irony, the truly poignant thing about all of this, is that he died less than three weeks before beginning a farewell tour that could have been his moment of redemption.

All that being said, there’s another temptation with the death of a celebrity… and that’s to give into the fallacy that one’s fame can make them immortal. Things that are of this world will always fade, and fame and celebrity are most assuredly of this world. Fame fades, celebrity falters—all is vanity, as the Teacher puts it. And that’s as true for royalty as it is for us “commoners”.

But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t celebrate the music, which, in Jackson’s case, is what it always comes back to. And so, I’ll wrap things up with a celebration of sorts—Michael Jackson’s legendary performance of “Billie Jean” at the 25th anniversary celebration of Motown Records (during which he premiered the mighty moonwalk).

The Clientele—a longtime fave ‘round these parts—are putting the finishing touches on their fifth album. Titled Bonfires on the Heath, the album is tentatively scheduled for this October on Merge. Pitchfork has more details, including a track list, as well as a recent interview with lead singer Alasdair MacLean in which he discusses the new album, haunting literature, and the band’s potential end.

Pitchfork: So you’d say this album is a more austere affair than the last one?

AM: It is. It’s more full of ghosts and doubts and signs and wonders than any other Clientele record. It’s very spooky and tremendously sad at times. It’s about watching yourself disappear.

[...]

Pitchfork: Does that mean this is the end for the Clientele?

AM: It might do, I haven’t really decided yet. I think it’d close the chapter quite well. If you don’t have any more ideas you should just go away, I guess. But I don’t want to announce that the Clientele is breaking up. It’s always up in the air, you constantly have to rethink what you’re doing and wonder whether it’s courageous enough.

Pitchfork: If this is the end, would you be satisfied with what the Clientele accomplished?

AM: It’s a body of work that I’m not ashamed of. We survived generally being ignored in the UK, which I’m quite proud of. A lot of people would have given up if they’d been handed out the kind of treatment we get in our home country.

If you’re curious as to why The Clientele are such a fave, then by all means, check out a few songs on their MySpace page.

Related: MacLean has a side-project with Pipas’ Lupe Núñez-Fernández called Amor De Dias that MacLean describes as “all acoustic guitars in jazz and Spanish rhythm, and half of it is in Spanish.” The duo is nearly done with recording their first album, though no word yet on who is going to release it.

Not long after posting my recent ode to Ester Drang, I got a note from my old friend Melissa about Native Lights, a new “supergroup” made up of members from Ester Drang and Unwed Sailor as well as a couple of other bands from Tulsa, Oklahoma.

When I first saw that line-up, I immediately thought of Circle of Birds, another supergroup that contained members of Ester Drang and Unwed Sailor. Native Lights delves into shimmery, atmospheric sounds as well, but the one track that is currently on the band’s MySpace page (“El Rosa”) has a darker, more propulsive feel to it that just instantly grabs me and won’t let go. I hear shades of Slowdive’s “Souvlaki Space Station”, Joy Division and early Cure, and hints of many other things that I love, all rolled into one.

For more info on Native Lights, check out this interview in Urban Tulsa Weekly. The band is planning to put out an actual record sooner rather than later, and based on the strength of “El Rosa”, I can’t wait to hear the results.

Ester Drang has been responsible for two of the most amazing and moving concert experiences of my life. The first was back in 2001, when the band performed with Unwed Sailor and The Elevator Division at Kansas City’s now defunct New Earth Coffeehouse. I had seen Ester Drang at the 1999 Cornerstone festival, and while I liked moments of their set, it didn’t do as much for me as you’d think, given the band’s spacey, shoegazer-esque sound. But that night in Kansas City was nothing short of revelatory.

My friends and I were there to see headliners Unwed Sailor, so I wasn’t paying much attention when Ester Drang went about setting up their countless guitars, effects pedals, and synths. Even when they started playing, I didn’t give it much thought. I assumed they were just doing a soundcheck when, in fact, they were doing a spacey lead-in to a set that would show off songs from their new (at the time) full-length, Goldenwest.

What I thought was just a soundcheck kept going on and on, becoming more lovely with each passing second. When the band fully kicked in and began the first song in earnest, I was floored—and I stayed that way for the rest of their set. When I got back to Lincoln, I was babbling incessantly to anyone who would listen about the Drang, begging them to give Goldenwest a listen because I was certain it would change their life.

The second was later that same year, at the Cornerstone Festival. Honestly, I don’t know where the nostalgia that always accompanies Cornerstone ends and critical assessment of the Drang’s set begins; the two are inextricably linked for me. Even now, looking back on the show after all these years, I find myself caught up in the sort of spell that, for me, marks a transcendent experience, concert or otherwise.

The band was six-strong that night under the Cornerstone Magazine tent: two guitars, two keyboardists, bass, and drums. Their set got off to a shaky start but as the Drang pushed forward, they began to weave a spell over the entire crowd. Each song flowed into the next, creating a continuous and uninterrupted mood. By the time they hit the climax of “Felicity, Darling”, I was, once again, floored. I couldn’t say a word, but just rocked back and forth with a huge, goofy grin on my face.

Afterwards, my friends and I all had the same befuddled yet awestruck look. We’d just had a worship experience in the truest sense of the word. I left the tent as quickly as I could—I just needed to be alone right then. I needed time to process what I’d just experienced, to digest it all, and I didn’t want anything to break the spell. And I wasn’t the only one. Afterwards, once the shock had worn off, I spoke with several people who also felt the need to be alone, to reflect on an amazing experience.

I miss Ester Drang, plain and simple, because of these experiences—not to mention several albums worth of solid music. It’s been over three years since their last album, Rocinate. There’s nothing on their website, nor their MySpace page that indicates any new activity (the band, however, is still listed on the Jade Tree roster). I hope Rocinate isn’t the final Drang album—and though we’re older and have gone our separate ways, the nostalgist in me still hopes that my friends and I will all make it to Bushnell again someday, to gather ‘round the stage and bliss out to Ester Drang once more.

Sweden’s The Radio Dept.—who are set to release their new David EP on June 24—performed two shows at New York’s PopFest earlier this month. One of the shows—their May 16th headlining performance at The Bell House—was recorded by a fan and is now available for download from the band’s website.

Here’s the setlist:

1. Intro
2. New Improvement
3. Freddie and the Trojan Horse
4. Pulling Our Weight
5. I Wanted You To Feel The Same
6. The Worst Taste In Music
7. 1995
8. Spring Time
9. Sleeping In
10. Where Damage Isn’t Already Done
11. Why Won’t You Talk About It?
12. Keen On Boys
13. Encore
14. Messy Enough

The recording is available in both MP3 and lossless FLAC formats, but you need to be an active member of the band’s website to download the FLAC files.

Also available from the band’s website is an MP3 of “David”, the title track from their aforementioned EP. Much like last year’s “Freddie and the Trojan Horse”, it’s an impeccable piece of pop, with 80s influences and wistful vocals aplenty. And unlike, say, The Declining Winter, it’s the perfect music for a nice warm, sunny May day.

As I type this, it’s 84 degrees and sunny—in other words, a picture perfect day in May. But I just heard some cuts from The Declining Winter’s new album and now, I’m suddenly missing October’s cool grey skies.

As you may know, The Declining Winter is Richard Adams, who along with his brother Chris, form the core of the mighty Hood, a longtime fave here at Opus HQ. As such, the new tracks—“Haunt The Upper Hallways” and “Hey EFD”—are pretty much what I was expecting, full of drifting, meandering guitars and violins, subtly shimmering keys, scattershot drums, and breathy, cryptic vocals. All in all, they’re sad, mopey, and pastoral songs, the kind of music that shouldn’t be released in summer, but rather, at the height of autumn or on the eve of winter’s first snowfall.

Regardless of the weather outside, though, I find that I can settle into this music quite nicely and cozily, much like you would with a comfy chair and a nice, warm beverage on a grey, blustery day.

Haunt The Upper Hallways will be released by Home Assembly Music on June 29—click here to pre-order.

One album that I’ve really been looking forward to this year is Mew’s No More Stories Are Told Today I’m Sorry They Washed Away No More Stories the World Is Grey I’m Tired Let’s Wash Away. The album was originally scheduled to come out last fall, but its release date was pushed back to August of this year. The first song from the album—“Introducing Palace Players”—has finally appeared on the intertubes, and it’s pretty much everything I was hoping for: lots of fey vocals, cryptic lyrics, and plenty of proggy synths and guitars.

The stuttering, drunken drumming threw me for a loop at first, but after a few listens, it reminded me of just how propulsive and intense Mew really is once you get past the frills and filigrees. And if anything else, it only makes the song catchier and more infectious.

But judge for yourself—listen to the track via iMeem.