Composer Henry Brant (b. 1913) has lived long enough to finally see belated (and well-deserved) accolades come his way, including the 2002 Pulitzer Prize. Brant specializes in spatial music, which is created by the effect of placing different performing ensembles throughout a space. Incidentally, some of these performing environments are quite large; Brant once composed a piece for musicians on gondolas, who traveled throughout Venice by water in order to achieve the necessary spatial effects.
Innova’s double CD, The Henry Brant Collection, Volume 1, is an excellent introduction to the composer’s work. The largest composition on the recording, Northern Lights Over the Twin Cities, uses the performing resources of every ensemble of Macalester College. Also included is A Plan of the Air, a work for symphonic band (whose rhythmic complexities require two conductors), performed by students from the University of Wisconsin, River Falls. The collegiate musicians turn in stalwart performances of this evocative and antiphonal fare. What’s more, if you put the first disc in a CD Rom drive, you get a forty-five-minute interview with the composer about his creative process in composing spatial music.
Craggy, powerful and musically uncompromising, Brant’s music is perhaps the best descendant of such American experimental composers as Ives, Ruggles, Partch and Riegger. Nothing will beat the experience of hearing a Brant work live. I have fond memories of a New York performance where musicians were seated in every place conceivable in the hall: The balcony, the front, the back, offstage, and even behind closed doors in the hallway. They created a glorious counterpoint that, despite physical separation, somehow stayed together and wove a tremendous tapestry of sonic splendor, different to each audience member depending on where they sat! Still, this recording is the best one yet to capture spatial magnificence in two channels. - Christian Carey
Hailing from North Texas, Mandarin is poised to make a move among the indie-rock elite. Fast>Future>Present, the band’s second record, harkens back to the great American indie rock records of the early to mid-90s without ever sounding stale or outdated. They are able to rock out while maintaining restraint, and an overall cool sound.
It is rare for a band to create a “signature” sound so early in their career, but Mandarin seem to bring a sound to the table that, while familiar, is still quite original. While they never stray far from their whispery, seasick feel, they are able to explore the reaches of this sound by crafting songs that run the gamut of vibe and structure, without ever resorting to genre-hopping, or painted turd studio trickery. The impulse to compare Mandarin to other bands is very strong while listening to Fast>Future>Present, as the listener will most likely find him/herself thinking aloud “who does this sound like?” This is really a testament to how strong the songs and the production are on this album, more than a comment on its derivativeness. The tight songwriting, perfect harmonies, and crisp production lead to an immediate recognition of this type of record and, if you are anything like me, and immediate admiration of it.
Mandarin bob and weave through dynamics on a song-to-song basis. From the opener “When Heat Sleeps,” which could have been an outtake from Calla’s “Televise” to the jumpier “How Long?,” which brings to mind their labelmates 31Knots. Songs like “Eye on Time” and “The Beginning Hides the End” are able to showcase their knack for crafting excellent songs, as well as showing off their musical prowess, while exploring the subtler, quieter side of the band. Mandarin also hit as effectively with heavier tracks such as “Pilot Light” with its intense groove, swelling guitars and well placed handclaps.
Overall, Mandarin shows a lot of versatility on Fast>Future>Present, without ever leaving their safety zone. The result is one of the most focused and enjoyable indie-rock records so far this year. – Larry Hess
With a dazzling array of ethereal soundscapes and heavenly songcraft, Mandarin gives us the listening base the opportunity to genuinely feel the power of their art. “When Heat Sleeps” invokes of deep starry-eyed energy, as the record moves fast forward with the breathtaking tapestries of “Shadow Your Shadow” and the delightful tempo changes in “How Long?” As one infuses their heart and psyche into this musical gem, one seems to sink into the tides of ocean’s present, only to drift into the sea of the future, disappearing in to the horizon. Opening up with an elegant acoustic riff in the verse, the atmosphere of “Eye On Time” paints a picture of the mysterious qualities of measuring time itself. With this song, as well as the darker “The Beginning Hides an End,” Mandarin is terrific in executing the presentation of their intended message: For the listener to ponder the majesty of time and love, the universe and the immeasurable secrets of creation. The vocals by frontman Jayson Wortham are full of caress and lofty introspection, captivating great feeling and emotional resonance. Peter Salisbury’s bass and keys make the record further an enlightening experience. Matt Leer puts added punch into lead guitars, with Dave Douglass delivering tremendous effects with eclectic pulses, percussive flurries and changes in dynamics and tempo. Mandarin blend together as a mature cohesive unit and listening to their lush art is as delicious and sweet as the ripest of Mandarin oranges during harvest. The smooth soulful radiance blends with a complexity of lyrical content and instrumentation, taking us on an intergalactic journey into the heavens of music. Just for starters, checking out the superb “Holiday” can send one’s dreams into a vacation-like state with haunting and amiable immediacy. Even “Smother the Spark” can only smother the scent of drudgery and fuel the spark of musicality. Shawn M. Haney
Kinda interesting stuff here, sort of an update on ‘80s era Fleetwood Mac at times (the disc’s third track could have easily been at home on one of Lindsay Buckingham’s solo outings), same goes for “Turn & Go.” In short, it’s the kind of stuff that you have to sit down and soak in. It doesn’t immediately sock you in the teeth, nor does it seduce you on second or third listen. Of course, anyone who’s undergone that kind of a courtship with a band knows that there had better big a big reward at the end of it all. Is there? Kinda. The Led Zeppelin III-goes-to-the-Midwest “The Decision Made Itself” has that quality about it and the penultimate “Ultimate” does, too. But that‚s still a fairly large investment and one that doesn’t have as many sweet rewards as you might hope for. Now It’s Overhead is on its way but far from all the way there. – Jedd Beaudoin
A duo with laptops, instead of the advertised eight-piece ensemble, makes the music on Cash and Carry Songs. Francois Goujon and Benjamin Morando bear more than a passing musical resemblance to fellow Frenchman Air, but their electronic confections tend toward a more diverse, often digressive, approach. "Hey Bonus'" big beats and repeating hook seem to aspire to the dance floor, although it may hold off the thrumming bass just a bit too long in the intro to be entirely utilitarian. "4/4 Waltz," as the title suggests, is an off-kilter piece, but its cheerful arrangement with just a touch of glitch is quite appealing. "Daddy Long Legs" is more atmospheric in demeanor, flirting with the ambient genre.
All of this eclecticism may cause the album to lack the coherence of a classic, but it is rather pleasing to hear Octet try on various hats and explore disparate styles. Wherever they finally settle, stylistically speaking, I have a feeling this band will be making strong music. - Christian Carey
Can acoustic music be loud and raucous and kick you in the teeth and yet still be a good time? Seems to be the case with this outing from Old Canes, led by Christopher Crisci. The sound of buskers blaring through an electric screen door, Early Morning Hymns hits hard and long with tracks such as “Taxi On Vermont,” “Both Falling Bright” and “One Day.” But there are softer tunes here, such as the meditative title track (which has the intimacy of a drunken prayer whispered on the bathroom floor at 3 AM), “Then Go On” (which feels like a tune played for a friend over a long-distance line) and the back-porch-stomp-on-acid “Face It,” which wouldn’t have been out of place on slightly less serrated version of Big Star’s Third/Sister Lovers. While it remains to be seen if Old Canes will continue in this vein or opt for something louder, something softer, or something even more sublime, there’s promising hints of the outfit’s future throughout, hanging in and in between each and every chord. – Jedd Beaudoin
An easy, breezy batch of tunes from this Flying Burrito Brothers and Grateful Dead-ish lot that holds you close and deep for forty-one minutes with sadly beautiful pieces such as “The Horseshoe King,” plus women and ramblin’‚ pieces such as “Sundowner, You” and “Denver Annie.” Finding strength in weakness and peace in the center of a storm, The Court & Spark has given us a fine batch of tunes that will no doubt be remembered as some of the finest of the band’s musical generation and perhaps beyond. This is the real stuff. Rejoice in it. Revel in it. – Jedd Beaudoin
The Mendoza Line has recorded more records than you shake a beat-up Martin at and yet haven’t managed to break wide into collective conscious of American record buyers. Too bad, because the material on this outing, especially that sung by Shannon Mary McArdle, shines brighter than a mushroom cloud in the noonday sun. With countryish tinges in the vein of say, Gram Parsons or the Canadian twang of Cowboy Junkies circa The Trinity Sessions and straight-up rockers that call to mind a slightly more focused version of The Replacements (“Tiny Motions,” which could actually pass for a slightly smoother song from Tommy Stinson’s ill-fated Bash and Pop unit), or even a more modern version of The Jayhawks, it seems that there‚s not much that The Mendoza Line can’t do. Let’s hope that the small slices of paradise known as “Faithful Brother (Scourge Of The Land),” the broken bottle boogie “An Architect’s Eye,” or the heartbreakingly good “They Never Bat An Eye” find a wider audience for this unique and highly-talented collective. Oh, don’t miss “Flat Feet And Western Style,” or “Road Insolvency.” Seriously, this is good. Really good. – Jedd Beaudoin
What better way for Thirsty Ear Records to celebrate the thirtieth release in their Blue Series, a collection of eclectic recordings that combine avant-jazz with other styles, such as hip hop and electronics, than with a remix project? The label commissioned Paul Miller, also known as DJ Spooky, to remix material from all of the Blue Series records; the result is Celestial Mechanix, a double disc set of lovingly deconstructed tracks.
The first disc features eleven distinct remixes. "CD:Dir-Gesture-N-B*LA Theory_Mix" may have a wordy title, but it packs a tight groove. Based on material from Blue Series curator Matthew Shipp's Equilibrium album, it introduces a recurring and relentlessly funky bass-line that DJ Spooky will utilize as an idée fixe throughout Celestial Mechanix. I am particularly fond of the multi-layered "Maldoror's Gambit," with source material from El-P's High Water, which floats trumpet and keyboard samples through an ethereal foreground level while maintaining a heavily thrumming drum 'n bass texture in the background.
The second disc is a continuous remix. Filled with thirty-five distinct tracks, it creates the perfect soundtrack for Thirsty Ear's anniversary party. DJ Spooky's ability to find connections between seemingly disparate source materials, artfully segueing and seamlessly splicing between so much of the Blue Series catalog, is nothing short of virtuosic. May he be called on to top himself when the Blue Series hits sixty releases! - Christian Carey
Spring Heel Jack
The Sweetness of the Water
Thirsty Ear, 2004
Spring Heel Jack's latest jazz-plus-electronica recording for Thirsty Ear's Blue Series follows a similar approach to their three previous efforts for the label, bringing John Coxon and Ashley Wales together with a group of avant-jazz stalwarts. This time around, their collaborators are trumpeter Wadada Leo Smith, saxophonist Evan Parker, bassist John Edwards and drummer Mark Sanders; the entire ensemble and fractals thereof make a hybrid music that combines the spontaneity of improvisation with all that digital technology has to offer.
Both Smith and Parker are powerful soloists and serve as an integral part of Sweetness’ sound world. "Lata" pits a post-tonal cascade of soprano saxophone from Parker against a fifties-pop sounding delicate keyboard progression – the aggregate forms a deliciously ironic juxtaposition. Wales creates washes of sampled electronic sounds on "Autumn," which Smith reacts to with impassioned held notes and angular lines of considerable intensity. The entire group can be heard on "Track Four" and all but Wales participate on "Quintet." Both of these contain a labyrinthine and knotty musical language, alternating in demeanor between enigmatic, furtive and questing. Along the way, we are treated to free improvisations that are some of the most haunting and memorable music I have heard all year. - Christian Carey
The Good Life
Album Of The Year
Saddle Creek
You know you’re doing something right when Council Bluffs sounds as exotic in song as the Chelsea Hotel or Strawberry Fields. Tim Kasher, the songwriting force behind The Good Life, manages to do exactly that in the opening title cut of this outing, giving us a glimpse of life in the world beyond the edge of the world. Not only does he paint a vivid and stunning portrait in that song, he also manages to render the ordinary extraordinary - in “Lovers Need Lawyers,” for example, the idea of driving across the river to Iowa for more beer seems as dangerous an act as a mysterious meeting across the river sounds in the work of Bruce Springsteen; in the gorgeous, Radiohead-on-U2 gone country “October Leaves” we stand beside the narrator who comes home to find that he’ll never come home the same way again. There’s more of that in the whimsical and melancholy “Under A Honeymoon,” the dramatic punk-fed-on-psychedelia “Notes In His Pockets” and the palpable burn of “A New Friend.”
This isn’t the album of the year and Kasher’s use of it here says more about frustrated artistic ambitions than it does about his desire to be crowned The New Face of Rock. Still, there’s a good chance that he could achieve one or the other or both, for Album Of The Year is a fine record, filled with the stuff of great literature and great songs. Bonus points to Kasher mentioning Harold and Maude. – Jedd Beaudoin
Giya Kanchelli
Diplipito
ECM
Georgian expatriate composer Giya Kachelli approaches ineffable beauty in the two contemplative and powerful compositions included here. Diplipito features two soloists, cellist Thomas Demenga and countertenor Derek Lee Ragin. They complement one another well, thriving mournfully in the dovetailing melodies supplied by Kanchelli. The duo is supported by the Stuttgart Chamber Orchestra, conducted by Dennis Russell Davies. Davies is the piano soloist in Valse Boston, a work for piano and strings that combines brooding textures with delicate neoclassicism. While there is always an emotive component to Kanchelli's music, these works simmer longer and erupt less, creating a combination of piquant tension and riveting stillness.- Christian Carey
Remarkably polished and passionate, from the storm up the opening, “In Red” Lovedrug provides us a memorable listening experience in their third release, Pretend Your Alive. Their sense of continuity in movement from song to song is delightfully strong, as the core of the band‚s instrumental resonance is gentle, gliding to a successful climax at the song’s peak, for example “Blackout.” The personality of Lovedrug, a band of only two years in existence, flourishes with candid charm. The record has been carefully mastered by Grammy-award winner Gavin Lurssen of O, Brother Where Art Thou? and Tom Waits fame. With dazzling harmonies and blissful backing percussion statements, not to mention pertinent bass lines, one can sense the band‚s delicate balance of architecture in composition and emotional resonance. “Spiders” further reflects Lovedrug’s ability to charm the audience, with its immediate romantic impact, both in the charging chorus, and strong vocal dexterity. Look to be mesmerized and carried away with “Rocknroll” and “Down Towards the Healing.” Each track is a pleasure to listen to, striking fresh emotion and thought with each spin. Conveying emotions and contemplation, Pretend Your Alive will be remembered in 2004 circles as the record to make us feel alive once again. - Shawn M. Haney
Tough call, this one. While Harmann’s spirited Hüsker Dü-inspired bursts of noise (including “Cold, A Whole Minute”) show promise, his lengthy, character-driven plods (“Fade In/Fade Out” is one) choke themselves in moodiness, bogging down in darkness rather than giving us even sliverish contrasts of light and dark. Others, such as “Like Flight,” stir emotions but ultimately devolve into unfinished vignettes that resolve into ash by the time the album’s wound to its end.
Much of that proves frustrating because Harmann displays, via “Location Is Everything” and “Broken Will, Bleeding Heart” that he can write songs that carry themselves from one end to the other, that make meaningful noise and sting when stinging’s what’s needed, soothe when it’s soothing that’s wanted. But there’s finally too little of that to recommend The Lake Effect as the full-fledged, full-on arrival of an exciting new voice. Instead, it’s heartfelt stab in the dark that wounds only pride. – Jedd Beaudoin
Pianist Dave Burrell, bassist William Parker and drummer Andrew Cyrille live up to their "Full Blown Trio" moniker on this effusive and gratifying date for new label High Two. All three have luminescent modern jazz pedigrees, which they display on intense numbers such as the title track and "Double Heartbeat.” But Expansion isn't all about modernity. Burrell also includes an affecting solo take on Irving Berlin song "They Say it's Wonderful," employing stride and swing inflections in a pliable arrangement of this standard.
Cyrille and Parker are excellent foils for Burrell, creating labyrinthine rhythmic complexes to underpin and spur on Burrell's harmonic explorations. The groove (or, really, grooves) on "About Face" creates multiple layers of syncopations over a march-like ostinato. "In the Balance," on the other hand, has a far more impressionistic sensibility. The album closes with a traditionally swinging composition, "Coup d'etat," which features an impressive interplay between all three musicians. Expansion is no "one style fits all jazz" release; it instead demonstrates enviable versatility. - Christian Carey
Continental composes post-rock instrumental epics, one part Aluminum Group pop and another Bang on a Can minimalism. "Stella" is a slow-core delicacy, filled with gently sustained and poignant harmonies. Math-rock rhythms, pitched percussion and syncopated bass guitar solos make "Leonid" an exciting and versatile composition. "Lark Spur" layers multiple guitars over a loping groove. This is instrumental rock that is both intricate and catchy - an all-too-rare combination. - Christian Carey
Don’t really get the title, but the music? Oh, yeah. There are traces of the Grateful Dead and its innumerable offshoots and its bastard offspring in some corners of the material (especially during the guitar leads and vocal harmonies of “Money”), which might count as a deficit in an assessment of a different band but Forty Piece Choir (just a simple quintet) gets bonus points for blending a pinch of Jerry with sweet grooves and mellow tunes. Forty Piece Choir draws on elements that will appeal to middle-of-the-road prog fans, jam banders and perhaps even the odd punter without a musical home.
One of the band’s best weapons may very well be keyboardist Kelly Kruse, whose keyboard lines provide small splashes of color when needed but also drive other tracks such as the wonderfully goofy “Think Fast” (Kruse takes lead vocal chores and comes across like a more soulful version of Natalie Merchant) and blends nice with the fiery guitar lines of Dan Dominiak and Dana Okon, who’s no slouch of a vocalist himself. (The band is rounded out by the rhythm section of bassist Tim McCarthy and Tim Minnick, which gets a nice workout on the lovable throwaway-ish “A-Frame House.”).
One gets the feeling that the band can only tell half of its story on disc, that there are epic tales to emerge once this outfit hits the live stage. Still, Tennessee seems to serve as a good primer for catching this band on the boards. Nice, cross-genreational stuff. – Jedd Beaudoin
The Bruces is the brainchild of Alex Mcmanus. Mcmanus created The Bruces as a side project while he spent time as a touring musician for such indie luminaries as Bright Eyes, Lambchop, and Vic Chestnut. The Shining Path, the follow-up to 2002’s The War of the Bruces, is forty-four minutes of pastoral spookiness that is simultaneously modern and ancient in tone. The Shining Path a perfect mood record for a late night, beer-soaked train ride through the mountains. The record lives in a world somewhere between paranoid loneliness, and gleeful drink-pop. While the arrangements never really leave a certain organic parameter, Mcmanus’ progressive songwriting, and excellent use of different acoustic guitar tones matched with drumless percussion, makes for an enjoyably mellow, yet somewhat disturbing listen.
The strength of The Shining Path really lies in McManus’s exceptionally original songwriting. Most of the songs, “Add it On” and “Pilot Light” in particular, evoke a dreary world of “bi-weekly paychecks,” and “chances missed.” Cymbal swells, and banjo plucks accompany acoustic arpeggios as the tunes unfurl and weave with the sway of a drunkard on a rocking chair. Deceptively purposeful, none of the songs seem to have a clear structure, but they are filled with subtle hooks that become more enjoyable with every listen. “Fine Solutions,” possibly the albums strongest song, employs tubas, and cellos to match the cymbal swells to give it a symphonic country sound, with a circular chorus that bleeds through the speakers.
Some of the songs do err on the side of aimlessness, but for the most part, the hooks and arrangements are enough to keep the album moving and dismiss the weaker tunes as mere segues between the more focused and fully realized tracks. Overall the album works on many levels and gets better with each passing listen. – Larry Hess
Here’s hoping that whatever muse visits Bruces’ mastermind Alex McManus doesn’t wear out its welcome any time soon. The Shining Path is the kind of record that you want to come along once, maybe twice in a musical lifetime. It’s odd, full of heart and hurt, dark and yet bathed in light, poignant and harsh and loaded with memorable melodies, atypical textures and a talented group of hearts and hands that give life to creations such as “The Electric Halo.”
McManus also outshines plenty of his peers with the hollowed-out “Pilot Light,” which imagines a darkened and desperate update of Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska material. It’s one of those tunes that deserves to become a film, or at the very least deserves to be on your lips at least once as you stagger up the stairs home. Others - “Far East Sweet,” “My Nerviosa,” and the title track (which closes out the album), suggest that McManus’ path will grow wider and brighter as we move forward into the future. Eagerly awaiting his next move, but savoring this one for some time to come. – Jedd Beaudoin
El Capitan
Atwater Knec
Brick and Mortar
El Capitan owes an undeniably large debt to Uncle Tupelo. Or more, specifically, Jay Farrar. The spirit of the man who could make a statue run looms large on Atwater Knec and the boys try hard to pay homage to their hero with varying degrees of success. Musically, at least, El Capitan (specifically songwriters Ryan Henry and Christopher Connolly) manages to offer something fresh. In the era of overstuffed records, where guitars are consistently compressed to the max and songs often sound like they were designed specifically to be buried in the sonic blah of basketball arenas rather than enjoyed by folks who want to simply go about their lives with a little music to make it easier, El Capitan sounds intimate, joyous even when it’s sad.
Disc opener “The Woodcutter Hymnal” glides along easily enough, making you smell pine and hear cicadas just beyond the reach of your speakers and “Blue Tick” rocks with a smiling abandon that you can’t help find infectious. But “Yaney Street” wears its Tupelo influence on its sleeve to the point that tribute gives way to parody then, almost, self-parody with too-clever lyrics (“Photosynchronize your backwoods imagery”?) and vocals that try desperately to capture Farrar’s trademark growl but come closer to Red Green’s northwoods Canuck rasp. Connolly’s “Kildevil” suffers a similar fate – it’s obvious that he‚s spent more than a few long afternoons with Neil Young’s Harvest and while that album (and Neil Himself) has an undeniable charm, such explorations are probably best left in the hands of their Creator.
Of course it would be easy to dismiss El Capitan were it not for the fact that both Connolly and Henry can write and write well, or for the fact that there’s an undeniable authenticity in the creaky (in the words of Henry himself) arrangements that haunt tracks such as “Yellowpine Blues” and the closing epic “Red Giant” (Neil Young checks himself into a honky tonk this time). One only wishes that this truly promising pair will throw off the alt-hip chains next time and just be themselves. – Jedd Beaudoin
Smothered in buoyant, honeyed ecstasy that at times recalls XTC at its most vibrant, Sharks and Minnows‚ latest outing, The Cost Of Living, proves a fine record that features an unreasonably high yield of indispensable pop tunes, including the one-two slap of “Sunday Driver” and “Slow Learner,” followed by the late-night drive of “Saint Of Anything,” which demonstrates the unit’s emotional and musical depths by adding just a touch of gray to the picnic-ready sky evident at the album’s opening. The quartet’s real strength in fact seems balancing glee with grim as things grow darker with the sad, wonderful “Baby Boom” and the Bob Mould-on-Andy Partridge closer “I Kept The Pieces You Threw Away.” While Sharks and Minnows has undeniable influences (“Statue of Marie” imagines Elvis Costello crashing a U2 session), the quartet never uses its heroes as a crutch. Instead, it acknowledges its musical surroundings, then blazes its own trail, forging forth into a place where people will one day soon say, “Yeah, that band‚s a Sharks and Minnows rip-off.” In short, The Cost Of Living should silence anyone who argues that this generation has no truly great songs or songwriters. – Jedd Beaudoin
Various Artists
Compulation, Vol.1: Songs from North Carolina
Pox World Empire
Schooner
You Forget About Your Heart
Pox World Empire
Compilation albums are by nature mixed bags. Listeners often find themselves taking a small dose of good with a whole mess of bad, although the benefits (discovering a new band, getting a feel for a particular label's roster) tend to outweigh the disadvantages (frequent use of the skip button).
Pox World Empire's Compulation, Vol.1: Songs from North Carolina is no exception to this rule. It kicks off with the mellow/driving power pop of The Rosebuds and "Governor's Daughter," a song that merits further exploration of the band's forthcoming releases on Merge Records, and progresses to the appalling, incomprehensible yelps and anguish of Des_Ark's "Yes Sir, Yes Way." Then comes Shallow Be Thy Name's rather tuneless "A Call for Merry Punch." (Please, no more. They sound as if they've had too much already.) Cold Sides' "Profiles," the following track, could win a prize for being the most inane and irksome song to be featured on a label compilation – then again, we haven't yet arrived at "Music for Gnome-Ladz" by Cantwell Gomez & Jordan. Pleasant's "Horrible" is just that, sacrificing a great tune to the gods of misguided vocalists. And instead of being a selling point, the guest spot "Skinny Glasses Girl" by Portastatic is largely underwhelming.
Rather than dwell on the many misses among these twenty-one tracks, there are a few hits worth mentioning. Ben Davis' "In Tents" is appealing, Beck-like electro-groove rock. North Elementary shows some promise with the brief closing track "Turn up, Stay Home," the feeble male vocals notwithstanding. Farblondjet and The Sleepies turn out some clever and enjoyable melodies on "Gold Guitars" and "Bottle in the Smoke," respectively. Neither comes across as remarkably fresh, but there's nothing wrong with capitalizing on the tried-and-tested indie pop formula. "Young Trust" by Piedmont Charisma is a peculiar Devo/B-52's hybrid that, for better or worse, ought to spark some kind of curiosity for the band's other work. The Sames' "Smaller Than Life" shows why the band's EP was such a hit on area radio station WXDU in 2002.
The best track by far, however, is "Long Long Time" by Schooner. It appears on Compulation in a slightly different (and arguably inferior) form to the album version found on You Forget About Your Heart, which at a mere eight tracks over 29 minutes is more of a Maxi-EP than a full-length, if we had a mind to be pedantic; but it's nevertheless eight tracks and 29 minutes very well spent: Moody, tuneful, intelligent rock – I suppose it might qualify as emo to the die-hard categorizers – reminiscent of Guided by Voices, My Bloody Valentine, Archers of Loaf, The Smiths.
The quality of frontman Reid Johnson's songwriting is consistently high. No lulls, no hints of attempting to cover a lack of inspiration, no filler, not a single welcome overstayed. Classic stuff, in other words, and that more than compensates for the brevity. And the sequencing is a model of its kind: every song is exactly where it belongs. This is why the Schooner debut entered my stereo two weeks ago and hasn't come out since. I truly relish every listen. –Eric J. Iannelli
At first? Seriously annoying - grating even. Hard to get through. Wondered why the hell I’d let this guy toss this bugger in the mail, why I’d bother to pull it out of the mailer and put on my desk with a note to listen to it Wednesday night. Sheesh. Of alla the things I coulda been doing, I found myself anchored down by this leaden albatross. To the bottom of the pile with you, Emperor X! Down, down, down you go! Ha!
But then the little angel inside me appeared. I mean, the guy is trying to make a living, or at least get word about his art out. ‘Preciate that. Respect it even. And, hell, even a bad review is some exposure, right? I could at least pull my head off the desk, wipe away the drool and drum up a not-too-scathing little pan. Then? Changed my mind.
I mean, truth be told, Tectonic Membrane/Thin Strip On An Edgeless Platform’s a little scattered for my tastes. Being a fan of those unified little platters known as albums and a huge fan of records with thematic connections, Tectonic Membrane/Thin Strip On An Edgeless Platform comes across like a Ritalin-deprived slacker’s sonic diary, a hint of this, a hint of that, half-baked, half-alive, half-realized. But there’s a certain amount of pleasure that one can derive from such unfinished leanings (it’s one of the things I love/hate the most about Paul Westerberg’s solo outings) and along the way expectations tend to glide like smoke. Since you know that nothing’s going to resolve like a typical song, that the eleven-track disc will never rise above a random collage of being and nothingness, there’s really very little to get hung about.
Hold on, though, the dude ain’t entirely off the hook yet. Whether you buy that random slacker ethic or not, you have the right to argue that nearly finished pieces such as “Constantly, Constantly Radio’s On” and “Laminate Factory” prove much more satisfying and time worthy than slopped together pieces such as “Florenica Tropicana.” You can get angry with the Emperor for not trying a little bit harder, he/we deserve just a little more, but you also have to go easy on him – ‘cause when he’s on - I mean when he’s red hot, he’s steaming.
So, what the hell? Do I like this thing or what? Well, sure. I mean, Tectonic Membrane/Thin Strip On An Edgeless Platform is, no matter what, a disasterpiece but at least it’s a largely enjoyable one. – Jedd Beaudoin
Lambchop
Aw Cmon
Lambchop
No You Cmon
Merge
A few months ago, I went with a few friends to see jazz guitarist Bill Frisell provide music for a handful of silent films. Frisell’s sometimes haunting, rich tones draw on a wealth of American musical traditions – he’s collaborated with John Zorn, but was also profiled in No Depression – and the result is esoteric music with a familiar feel to it: The sort of strange house that you could still settle into easily at a moment’s notice. The music of Nashville’s Lambchop falls into a similarly distinctive place: These are the standards of some slightly altered United States where rock on the AM dial never fell from grace, where things we take for granted went just a little bit differently.
Some songs heard on both Aw Cmon and No You Cmon first appeared as part of a new score for the 1927 silent film Sunrise written by Lambchop frontman Kurt Wagner. The mood on both albums is generally pastoral, with guitars (electric and slide) jockeying for position with piano accompaniments, occasionally joined by waves of strings. Wagner’s sonorous voice occasionally drifts into a falsetto, with a handful of scat-like moments throughout. Wagner sings to his strengths here: His approach is one that charms you rather than wins you over with technical prowess. His delivery of the line “Or take me serious” (from Aw You Cmon’s “Steve McQueen”) is a sidestep from Tom Waits, all weary heartbreak and resignation.
Each album opens with a gorgeously cinematic number: “Being Tyler” and “Sunrise,” respectively. Aw Cmon opens optimistically and turns contemplative, while No You Cmon starts off in a pensive fashion and builds enthusiasm as it goes. The exceptions to the rule, such as the feedback-driven, not-quite-punk of No You Cmon’s “Nothing Adventurous Please” (sample lyric: “He was brought up around bad architecture/So it’s really not his fault”) tend to shatter, intentionally or not, the mood built up by the songs around them.
There’s a wry storytelling sensibility at work in the lyrics, and in places, in the construction of the songs themselves. (One suspects that the titling of the musically atypical “Nothing Adventurous Please” is anything but coincidental). The quiet testimony of “I Haven’t Heard A Word I’ve Said” includes this observation: “You hypnotize my bloodshot eyes/The nightlife's latest craze/They twist their shouts and jump about/Our memory isn't fazed/By doucumentors’ recent assent/Into the freakish phase/Remember that we are the purpose/Of this human race.”
The band stops short of calling these two records a double album, but the parallels between the two are clear, and the moods summoned up by each are clearly complementary. Of the two, No You Cmon feels more ambitious, and consequently more rewarding, but both albums are eminently listenable, challenging but not threatening, smart but not overly cerebral. Those who appreciate intelligence coupled with slide guitars will find a lot to treasure here. –Toby Carroll
Indestructible Object is an underwhelming EP, largely because two of
its five tracks appear on the forthcoming album The Spine; and these, though mildly amusing, aren't even the best that the generally mediocre full-length has to offer. "Memo to Human Resources" is a generic guitar-based rock song that lacks the usual TMBG originality and wit. "Au Contraire," a polite rebuttal to the likes of David Bowie, Franklin Delano Roosevelt and Mahatma Ghandi, has more of the band's singular appeal, but doesn't rate with their most memorable work.
Of the three remaining songs, two -- "Am I Awake?" and "Ant" – are originals. Both sound like B-sides to existing albums: "Ant," with its exultant horns, to John Henry (the 'original' original was, in fact, a track on the 1990 Flood-era Istanbul (Not Constantinople) EP); "Am I Awake?" and its frivolous stereophonic tinkering to Mink Car (it was recorded as the theme song for The Learning Channel docu-series Resident Life). Forgoing the EP and tacking this enjoyable pair of tracks onto The Spine, which clocks in at just thirty-six minutes, would have boosted the quality of the full-length considerably. The unremarkable cover of The Beach Boys' "Caroline, No," sung by an earnest Flansburgh, closes things appropriately.
Fans of TMBG are better off buying individual EP-only songs on the iTunes Music Store, as Indestructible Object isn't a release to own and cherish, and then deciding what to do about The Spine when it appears on July 20. Sadly, neither the EP appetizer nor the album proper showcases this duo of Johns at their creative peak. –Eric J. Iannelli
Now, this? This’ll get your old man’s ire up for sure, make him pull out whatever’s left of his hair and give your mom enough grief that she’ll have to have an emergency meeting with her stylist. While it’s cool that there’s music out there to irk the old man’s noodle and drive the old lady up the wall, it still has to do something for you. Does this? Depends. While the chaotic noise, the sonic push and pull and pull and push of tracks such as “Warm Bricks” and “Sensation Of The Horse” proves entertaining and thrusts your ear way outside the playing field, well over the stadium wall, beyond the parking lot and down three flights of subway stairs plus two stops past the point of departure, it never feels that the album does more than that. You don’t, for instance, get off at the end of your block to find out that someone’s hopelessly disfigured the grocer nor do you enter the house to find that you’ve fallen all over again for the lover you couldn’t stand when you left the house that morning. That would bring this band into the terrain of jaw-dropping beauty. For now, your mouth will open wide, hang there for a little while but then you’ll go back to whatever your were doing before. – Jedd Beaudoin
Like passing underneath a magical
waterfall, crystalline in appearance, so too will one feel when first
experiencing the breathtaking
achievement, Shearwater’s third release, Winged Life.
Only twelve of the twenty-two recorded songs during their sessions with
Matt Pence
appear here, with more surprises to come later. However, those selections
bring together a grand mix of startling accompaniments, elaborate arrangements,
and eclectic instrumental prowess. Lead vocalist Jonathan Meiburg delivers
a genuine lush voice with flair and gentle grace. You can find Meiburg’s
words swimming through the waters of an utterly mesmerizing and complex
suit of instrumentation to produce an end result of quite dazzling soundscapes.
Look for an array of guitars, violins, B-3 Hammond organ, pump organ,
lap steel, vibes, Wurlitzer, sampler, glockenspiel, and piano in the
background,
with a delightful percussionist and upright bassist to add meaningful
musical feel as well. Winged Life is somber and graceful in
appeal and humble in character, showing Shearwater’s maturity. They’ve
learned the lesson of restraint and have loosened up quite dearly. With
powerful immediacy
and endearing emotional resonance, Shearwater brings forth a grand masterpiece
of musical art. - Shawn M. Haney
The Damnwells
Bastards Of The Beat
Red Ink/Epic
Really nice batch of tunes from The Damnwells, which features ex-Whiskeytown resident Steven Terry. As you might expect, there are plenty of chunks of the No Depression zeitgeist evident in tracks such as “What You Get” (as great a Friday night bar stomp as any that’s crossed my desk this year and one that’s likely to get the boys on the radio), and “I’ll Be Around,” which wears the soulful vibe of late Faces/early Rod Stewart well. Then there’s the living room ballad “I Will Keep The Bad Things From You,” which comes within a few measures of being a kind of hybrid of John Hiatt’s “Have A Little Faith In Me” and some long-forgotten Kris Kristofferson ballad. (Though neither of those guys would be caught dead tossing “Catch it while you can/It’s the feel good hit of the summer” amid such well-crafted verses.) Others prove just fine as well: “Sleepsinging” may be the best Son Volt song that Jay Farrar never had the chance to write, while a number of other tunes could make Terry’s former bandmate Ryan Adams wish could write songs as deep-cutting as “Kiss Catastrophe.” That song makes you long to travel a wide-open New Mexico road with a broken heart in your chest and the keys to a new life in your pocket.
But Bastards Of The Beat isn’t perfect. It’s really more a batch of songs blended into one pot than a full-fledged album that effectively works a theme or series of themes from one end to the other. You can say that there’s lost love and love found and all that going on here but it just never seems to converge in a truly unifying way. And the album’s about ten minutes too long. It’s not so much that the record’s loaded with backend filler (that’s not the case at all) but that the tenuous threads of unity evident in the first five, six songs become increasingly frayed by the end, leaving the listener to forget where the journey started in the first place.
Still, this is a time when more or more people are hitting “Random” on iTunes and having themselves a good day, leaving Jimi Hendrix to rub elbows with Jimmy Buffett, meaning that that lack of thematic cohesion probably won’t matter to the average listener. Average or not, you owe it to yourself to check out Bastards Of The Beatt. – Jedd Beaudoin
A sparkling effort of twelve haunting, gripping melodies, Eleven releases their fifth record, Howling Book, their first with Pollen Records. A power trio of magnificent prowess, Alain Johannes, Natasha Shneider and Jack Irons create and produce melodies with great versatility, such as the riveting, rocking “Show Me Something,” the mesmerizing “Flow Like a River,” to the sweet and subtle romances of “Simple Kiss.” Deeply moving and provocative, each of the tracks seem to relate to the listener, genuinely identifying their emotions, both of happy hearts and sad souls, providing music as much as a gift of saving grace, as outlined in “Simple Kiss.” “You’re My Diamond” paints an atmospheric picture of bluesy horrors, with shades of fellow influence Chris Cornell, a past buddy of one-time Pearl Jam drummer Irons. Each song is haunting and beautiful is its own very unique way, presenting a tapestry of emotional bliss, releasing the dark cries of the human heart and the deepest secrets desired to be tapped by the thinker’s mind. Cheers for the desirable and eclectic artwork and packaging, which adds to the daring and witty personality of this veteran trio from Los Angeles. The very gothic “Kill Me No More” is filled with passion and charm, and blotted with dazzling harmonies, lead virtuoso guitars and percussion flair. “Now is the World” flows with eerie inspirational guidance from Seattle grungers Soundgarden of glory days past. - Shawn M. Haney
A delightful album full of endearing pop melodies, Summer Hymns issued this colorful effort while finding spare time before their release of Clemency and their coming summer tour. This ten song LP entitled Fools Gold is a work of sparkling charisma and charming creativity. “She can steal my heart/but not my Calvin Klines/I ain’t gonna lose my pants this time” spills the lyrics of “Button Flies,” a flirtatious piece of a suitable length of just a minute and a half. The wonderful power of this record that mesmerizes the listener is Summer Hymns’ loose feel and lightheartedness in the process of making it. They had lots of time to kill during the winter, waiting for their upcoming release, the critically acclaimed and professionally recorded LP Clemency, not to mention anticipating a summer tour. So instead of being miserable lolling the winter away at their day jobs, the group recorded and created this work on the fly, inadvertently as twenty-two songs. They found a home studio that needed company and enjoyed the discovery of recording without pressure, price or fear of deadlines. Bringing this work to Radium Recording Studio in Athens, Ga. to polish it up, the mix was made, and a fine result of eclectic, radiant independent music. - Shawn M. Haney
This is quite a pleasing gem of music from a gifted artist. Spending three years carefully crafting his first solo release, Someone, Somewhere is an exceptional example of Robert Roth’s creative wit and musical prowess. Full of fierce, compassionate songwriting, Roth pushes the envelope with his ability to capture the raw essence of human emotion in song. Filled with high doses of eclectic artistic expression, each song acts with a great deal of immediacy. Roth genuinely paints sonic atmospheres and melodic landscapes with fervor and originality, providing a sharp look into his promising future as a solo artist from Seattle. Roth will always be praised with his influence as a figure during the period of Seattle’s grunge scene, as well as his powerful presence as lead singer in the band Truly. You can still hear the rich retro moods in this record that provided Truly’s fame and following. A captivating and enlightening work, Someone, Somewhere is cram-packed full of musical information, such that each spin offers more fresh musical surprises. “Lightening and Thunder” and “Relive These X” are potent with dazzling composition. The title track is laced with melodic textures and colors, found over and over again with great intensity, just like the mysterious and hauntingly beautiful “Halliburton Blues.” This record marks Roth’s focus and extreme dedication into creating such a rich and riveting listening experience. One can’t help but feel the emotional release of sound, vibrant with mellotron-soaked atmospherics, haunting guitars, and warped orchestral passages. Dazzling with strings, sythns, horns, percussion pulses, this wall of sound seems to stop time itself and carry you into the heart of this epic. With experimentation at the extreme, Roth pays attention to the most minute of details to give us such a gripping, emotionally resonating release. - Shawn M. Haney
Kind of like what might have happened had Ray Davies, Pete Townsend and a less acid-drenched Syd Barrett held a musical summit circa the Summer of Love. The psychedelic and British influences here are undeniable on songs such as “Famous Flaws Of King Ubu,” which feels like an almost upbeat take on The Who’s “I Can See For Miles,” and “Last Lights,” which imagines XTC on Giles, Giles, Fripp. Sort of. The influences are there, of course, but it never feels so straightforward that you feel like screaming, “Rip off!” Instead, you just have to close your eyes and think of England.
Others, such as “Country Under Canada” (which comes in three parts) and “Piano Needs Hands” (which wouldn’t have been out of place on some of John Lennon’s more experimental and rough-edged solo work) prove a little darker. But there’s no rule that says light has to penetrate each corner of the human heart and Remain In Ether is better for Slow Jets‚ understanding of that.
Some might argue that Remain In Ether doesn’t feel as unified as it could, that the songs are a little scattered thematically, maybe even sonically. Whether or not that’s true Slow Jets has delivered one fine record, one that invites us to “Move While The Door Is Open” and closes behind us only when “Ether Remains.” This is the kind of stuff that should take over radio. – Jedd Beaudoin
Soprano saxophonist Evan Parker has cultivated his Electro-Acoustic Ensemble into one of the most consistently engaging groups employing live electronics active today. Memory/Vision, captured in a concert recording of a 2002 event in Oslo, is a work commemorating scientist Charles Arthur Musés’ ground-breaking chronotopology.
While Parker's sheets of electronically modified soprano saxophone are an important part of the ensemble's texture, other instrumentalists -- violinist Philipp Wachsmann, bassist Barry Guy, percussionist Paul Lytton and prepared pianist Agusti Fernandez -- take an equally active role. A host of musicians performing live electronics are on hand as well, creating swirling sonic architectures, as buoyant and ephemeral as gusting wind. While Memory/Vision retains the exploratory character of previous Electro-Acoustic Ensemble outings, there is a directness in the gestural character of the music this time around that is an appealing departure. - Christian Carey
Put together qualities of ferocious wit, passionate rock and a spectacular mess of guitars and you’ve The Hold Steady’s eclectic effort, Almost Killed Me. Based in Brooklyn, this enthusiastic, young group has created a batch of songs ready to broken out live with raw fervor and testosterone-charged presence. This record’s full of snarling vocals on verses, rambunctious choruses and rude, in-your-face punk rock statements. The Hold Steady bashes out one tune after another, with unadulterated aggression, turning up them amps to ear-splitting levels. A raucous, delightfully good rocking time, one can sense the influences of Kiss and Thin Lizzy, with rifling guitar chops, stifling percussion and charging bass lines. They are earnest and immediate, with a vocalist that delivers sharp, impacting lyrical statements of our changing, ever chaotic society. This mind-boggling effort of unabashed carelessness is suitable to be the soundtrack of our lives. Monstrous and cynical, these cunning boys from Boston no how to throw a party and keep the venue buzzing till the wee hours of the morning. - Shawn M. Haney
Pianist Marilyn Crispell, joined by bassist Mark Helias and drummer Paul Motian, evokes a plethora of emotions on Storyteller, her latest recording for ECM. On "Wild Rose" she weaves wistful strands of arpeggiated harmonies over a descending progression so archetypal-sounding it almost passes for pop. "Flight of the Bluejay" includes more ruminative playing by Crispell, by it is interrupted by anxiously active avian imitations.
The title tune (written by Motian) is a subtly-hued ballad of considerable beauty. Motian sets up a discreet yet insistent rhythmic groove, while Crispell and Helias articulate piquant harmonies that seem to yearn for a resolution that never quite arrives; Crispell's melodic material seems to adopt an Eastern cast. Another Motian original, "The Sunflower," features a more angular and wayward tune that inspires punctilious improvisations. The most extended track on the album, "So Far, So Near," is a Crispell-penned ballad that features an extended bass solo from Helias and lush pianistic textures. With such beguiling original material, you'll be glad that Crispell and company take their time. - Christian Carey
The 7-inch compilation album has been used as a tool during the CD
era to attain greater exposure for songs that were once meant
to stand on their
own. The 7” was always used by the mainstream as the format of choice
for the single, but the usage of this medium for underground and indie
artists has always taken on a life of its own. If only for the economic
makeup of the band/fan relationship in the punk/indie community, the 7” became
a different and more immediate art form as compared to the more expensive
(both for production and for retail) full length.
It is for this reason that the 7” compilations (as opposed to their
mainstream cousin, the “greatest hits collection”) are usually
uneven affairs, capable of showing a band at moments of great clarity and
inspiration, as well as at moments of their greatest self-indulgence and
flippancy. Les Savy Fav’s newest release, Inches, is an example of
both the heights and lows the 7” compilation can hit. Luckily,
though, the good severely outweighs the bad.
The album is sequences chronologically, under the premise that it was
always intended to be released as an album, but was just released in
segments. Inches starts off incredibly well, with “Meet Me In the Dollar Bin”,
the leadoff track, standing as possibly the strongest song on the album.
Les Savy Fav manages to keep up the momentum with tight, funky and heavy
guitar rock for the majority of Inches. Tim Harrington’s nasal
delivery of his clever wordplay and energetic hooks brings the songs
to life and
make most of the first half of the album feel like a cohesive session.
Things begin to go south with “Obsessed with the Excess,” in
which the murky production and lack of any discernible hook separates it
from the tight songwriting of its predecessors. This is the first moment
that kills the illusion that this could be and “album,” in
the traditional sense of the word. The record picks up steam again with
the swagger-rock of “Yawn, Yawn,” and the catchy mid-tempo
rocker “No Sleeves.” A dirtier, fuzzed-out mix of “Reprobates
Resume,” off of 2001’s excellent Go Forth, follows this. But
this brief blast of goodness is quickly wiped out by a tedious dialogue
of a poorly recorded and pointless sailor story, that does not seem to
have anything to do musically with the rest of the album (mainly because
there is no music), and really kills any momentum that the band has built
up to in the previous forty-five minutes. Things continue to descend with
a crappy live recording of “Reformat.”
Things pick up again, and go forth in the right fashion for the rest
of the record, but by this point it is hard to stay interested. The
main flaw
in Inches is that it is too long. This, combined with the varying fidelity
of the different sessions that spawned these tracks yields mixed results.
Still, there are great moments on Inches that those who own the original
7” should feel very lucky to have. The great moments here are very
much worth the price of admission for those who did not collect the 7’s
as they were being put out, and this collection is strong enough to whet
the listeners appetite for the next “official” release. – Larry
Hess
The Mattoid calls his special brand of insanity “Sango music.” Don’t know what exactly that means but it sure do sound good. Some folks say that you’ll like him if you like the likes of Donovan, Nico and Moldy Peaches and maybe that fits just right. Dunno. What does become obvious while listening to Hello, however, is how utterly fun he makes it all sound, how vibrant (and concomitantly) sleepily easy his brand of banding comes across, whether the live “Funeral Party,” the Velvet Underground-on-Eastern European folk of “Juri Gagarin” (the Russian who first escaped Earth’s gravity), or the sexy-creepy murder ballad “Rat Poison.”
While it’s hard to say that you should have so much fun listening to some of the songs on Hello, given the subject matter, when The Mattoid drops into his lower registers or makes funny little noises with his mouth - which he does not less than twice a song, truly using his voice as an instrument and not just a way to dish dirt - you can’t help but smile and feel waves of happiness rushing down all over, cloaking you in a brilliant light of joy that does not fade, not even after the last note has sounded.
Hello is the sound of the Velvet Underground with a deep sense of humor and Moldy Peaches with some sense of coherence. Thank you Mr. Mattoid, thank you wherever on this earth (or above it) you are. – Jedd Beaudoin
You might think you have a pretty good idea of what "drum and bass" duets ought to sound like: Think again! Evident, a 2002 concert recording of bassist Joëlle Léandre and percussionist Mark Nauseef, redefines the sounds and roles of these instruments, eschewing their traditional banishment to the rhythm section of the band. Here, drum and bass are front and center in an engaging series of improvisations.
Léandre's bass playing often seems bound for the stratosphere - she indulges in glassy harmonics and mezzo-soprano melodies way up on the fretboard. Particularly striking are her imitations of whale song, which share an uncanny resemblance to the real thing. Nauseef stresses textural playing over articulating a regular pulse. The result is a series of colorful interjections and phrasal punctuations. Is the music on Evident unconventional? Yes - unconventionally lovely. – Christian Carey
Jazz quartet Conference Call, comprised of saxophonist Gebhard Ullmann, pianist Michael Jefry Stevens, bassist Joe Fonda and drummer George Schuller, seems to change record labels every album. Thankfully, one thing that they don't change on their third full length, Spirals - the Berlin Concert, is their prodigious level of playing.
Tracks like Schuller's "Comeuppance" brim with melodic interplay, with everyone imitating and trading motivic material. Ullmann’s composition, "Dreierlei," is a showcase for the saxophonist's soprano-playing, which encompasses everything from fierce squalls to panache-imbued flourishes. Stevens' "Little Pete's Diner" starts out conventionally enough as a sultry tango, but Ullmann has a bit of fun playing spoiler, bringing the dance over to the avant side of the equation with throaty rasps and wild runs. "No Hazmats" is a forceful extended piece, which gives each member a chance to solo, as well as supplying several stentorian tutti. - Christian Carey
An eclectic collection of eighteen tracks, Inches brings us an intimate peak into the evolving world of Les Savy Fav. Documenting the young bands history and musical character, each song is full of poetic witticisms, raucous distorted guitars, mind-bending percussion and atmospheric synths. One can experience the revolutionary work of lead guitarist Seth Jabour, weaving both melody and dissonance, backed by Harrison Hayes‚ time-keeping percussion and Syd Butler’s mesmerizing bass lines. Lead vocalist and frontman Tim Harrington is left with much breathing room to stretch the musical envelope, reciting stories of humanity, today’s chaotic society, and tales of good vs. evil, etc. “Hold on to Your Genre” exerts their brainy, punkish mannerisms, while “We’ll Make a Lover of You” is clashing, dissonant pop. Each song throws in lush, hauntingly beautiful melodic statements, only to turn quickly into unsettling, unabashed rebel yells and maddening vocals.
This record is proof of the band’s ability to progress in their sound and musical styles, becoming more experimental, breaking boundaries and landing into further uncharted musical waters. Totally addictive and mesmerizing, this collection can be dubbed as a hyperkinetic masterpiece, explosive and ready to sweep the underground scene by storm. A hurricane-like swarm of jagged harmonies, gripping energy, and raw emotion, the stories told are frightening and political at times, with mixtures of love and loss thrown in between for good measure. Call it post-punk, experimental underground rock or whatever you want, this record positively delivers in grand fashion. - Shawn M. Haney
Jonathan Meiburg, Will Sheff, Thor Harris and Kim Burke craft pop songs of breathtaking melancholia on Shearwater's third full-length, Winged Life. The quartet takes their time allowing the material to unfold, causing songs like "The Hush" to have a lonely and spacious ambience. Meiburg's vocals exhibit tremendous vulnerability, walking the thin line between lyrical and losing it. "(I've Got a) Right to Cry” is an opus of anthemic desperation, while "The World in 1984" is a delicate ballad so lovely it almost induces heartache. -Christian Carey
Asobi Seksu
Asobi Seksu
Friendly Fire
Recently, in a review for another outlet, I mused that my interest in certain bands is based on familiarity; for example, a well-received disc that falls under the heading of “Americana” will probably fall sonically within an almost measurable range. There are certain genres that I’m drawn to for the thrill of something new, and others that have become the musical equivalent of comfort food. In the early 1990s, when I was first exposed to shoegazer rock, said style fell firmly into the former category. By now, a band like Asobi Seksu, which draws stylistically from now-seminal groups as My Bloody Valentine, Slowdive, and Lush, falls firmly into the latter. The genre’s trademark fragmented lyrics, swirls of white noise, and critical moments when the distortion kicks in are all present; thankfully, they’re pulled off well and with a certain charisma throughout. Singer/keyboardist Yuki Chikudate offers up lyrics in both Japanese and English. Her impassioned style contrasts well with guitarist James Hanna’s more detached approach on the two songs where his vocals take center stage.
The album opens with “I’m Happy But You Don’t Like Me,” a slice of breathy, guitar-driven pop into which distortion slowly edges. The feedback has begun to howl by the second song, “Sooner,” with Chikudate crooning, “I almost woke up in your eyes.” It’s the sort of phrase that forces its way out of the cacophony, and it’s a technique that the band uses effectively throughout the album. On “Walk on the Moon,” for instance, “I’m swimming in grey” and “Let them all walk away” serve as lyrical touchstones for the mood of the song.
The more dissonant “Asobi Masho” turns up close to the end of the album, and while it does serve as something of a change of pace, its brusque, clipped mood doesn’t mesh well with the rest of the songs assembled here. It’s followed by the languorous “Stay,” however, which quickly returns things to the spacious, wistful status quo. While there aren’t too many adventurous steps being taken on this album, fans of the genre will appreciate this nearly textbook example of how it can be played well. The group’s more melodic pop sensibilities, though not always played up, serve as an indicator that more is afoot here than simply a love of pedals and shorthand, and this critic is curious to see where Asobi Seksu takes their sound from this starting point. – Toby Carroll
Aided by Tortoise drummer John Herndon, Damon Locks, Dan Fliegel and Wayne Montana create a heady concoction of post-funk synthetic dub on their second full length. Tunes like the nervously energetic "High Anxiety" and "Space Dancehall" dare you not to do a full-on robot dance. "Silhouette" mixes rapping and hip-hop beats with a seventies funk bass-line and analog synths. "Bewareness" creates a more outward-bound backing track, with layers of percussion and samples set against a busy bass ostinato and reverb-laden vocals. The Eternals may mix a plethora of disparate stylistic elements together, but the sound they end up with is singularly theirs and considerably appealing. - Christian Carey
This New York trio lights up the skies with fireworks of their own, with the release of their first record entitled, You’re Welcome. This is the premiere and flagship release of Baryon Records, a new independent imprint launched by producer John Agnello. A witty, uplifting and enlightening release, Fireworks Go Up! scores positive on all cylinders, creating delightfully catchy pop songs and meaty rock hooks. From the irresistible “Say Right Things,” to the infectious “A Glorious Mood,” and the mesmerizing opening track “The Sun Don’t Burn Without Her,” this is a tremendous milestone effort of creativity and artistic flair. The songcraft of lead singer/guitarist Dan Coutant, formally of the group Joshua, is full of classic melodicism and uplifting pop at its finest. Each of the original tunes are in essence captivating, revealing stories told that are both emotionally alluring and gripping. Fireworks Go Up! is only looking to have fun and take each project, each live performance as a mere stepping-stone to greater notoriety, but their potential is limitless with belief and a strong desire to develop their original sound. “Me Myself” presents further proof of immeasurable talent of compositional and lyrical wit that can only be heard and appreciated with a grateful listening heart. This is a group in focus of achieving powerful musical atmospherics. - Shawn M. Haney
Guapo makes rock music that includes elements of various
sub-genres: progressive, experimental, space and noise. Their sixth full
length (including two collaborations, one with Ruins and the other with
Cerberus Shoal), Five Suns, is an ambitious project; the title track is
a forty-seven minute long instrumental suite. This is powerful music, anchored
by Matt Thompson's thunderous bass-lines and Dave Smith's heavy-handed
percussion. New group member Daniel O'Sullivan adds swaths of electronics
and keyboard textures (including many vintage seventies prog machines like
mellotron and harmonium) - both Thompson and O'Sullivan contribute spacey
guitar lines. Still, not all of this is overblown - Part Three of Five
Suns has an impressively nuanced arrangement and striking harmonic
progression. The two other compositions included on the album, "Mictlan" and "Topan",
may be shorter in duration but are no less formidable in conception.
- Christian Carey
S Prcss
Taste Like Daughter EP
My Pal God
Throw
S Prcss’s Taste
Like Daughter on
the stereo and you’ll be treated to menacing guitars, oblique wordplay, and
occasionally vicious lyrical jabs exchanged by the group’s two founding
members. While not as full-on bracing as last year’s MNML, these
bitter moments of lyrical clarity, coming from a band known for much more
fragmented approach to said topic, act as yet another wrinkle in the group’s
evolution.
After beginning life in the late 1990s as a promising Fugazi-esque outfit,
the band incorporated electronic elements into their music for 2000’s More
Me, but had significantly downplayed them by the time of MNML. Said
album may be the most accessible “arty” record in recent memory.
The “a” word has been thrown around by some friends of mine
for whom I’ve played the disc, and yet their live shows can be
fist-pumpingly visceral.
The press materials accompanying Taste Like Daughter, a six-track EP
that follows brief tours with Les Savy Fav and Pretty Girls Make Graves,
emphasizes
the perennial conflict between founding members Bob Doto (vocals, guitar)
and Daneil Mazone (drums, vocals). I sometimes take the official bio
with a grain of salt, but in this case the lyrics don’t leave much room
for interpretation. In the opener “Look: Explosion! New Spring,” Doto
states, “You say we’re a team but I can’t afford it,” while
on “I’m a Motorcycle Drummer in a Moped Band,” Mazone
counters with, “They say there’s no ‘I’ in the
word team…/ I’ve got no time for your American dream or your
girlfriend/ You’re wrong this band is without end.”
Taste
Like Daughter
is often sparse, with an ominous mood filling the gaps left by conflict.
(The title phrase appears in the lyrics of “Give
the Beaches to the People” alongside references to sharks. Yeah.)
The first third of the EP is a slow-building arc, with “The Sun
Provides Vitamin D” and “I Call I Gorilla (Mountain Lifter)” – both
of which recall MNML’s most uptempo moments – acting
as a release. There’s a messy sort of drama throughout, and given
the surgeon-like precision of the group’s previous releases,
it’s often jarring.
And yet…who among us can ignore a healthy dose of innuendo and
gossip?
Taste Like Daughter makes art from a band’s interpersonal
fault lines. It’s not S Prcss’s defining work, but it’s
never less than compelling. - Toby Carroll
Pixel Panda
The Nation of Symmetry House of Tears Sound
(Point…)
Somewhere in Kansas City, there is a fifteen-year-old with terrible acne and unkempt hair wearing a Pixel Panda t-shirt under his black hoodie. The t-shirt is the one that features a scribbled, cartoonish crowd of ghosts and a bloodstain with the band name on it. He likes Pixel Panda’s music. He likes it unbearably loud. It pisses his parents off, for starters; plus it proves to his lousy peers that he’s not to be grouped with the mainstream kids who like Britney and all that other tame, manufactured radio crap. Listening to Pixel Panda at top volume on his iPod while loitering in the mall with a conspiracy of grunting friends, all similarly attired in black, helps make his angry, disaffected life more tolerable. And when he sees the band live, he gets to dispel some of his rage and punch people while moshing. Oh, bliss.
The reason it’s tempting to envisage the average Pixel Panda listener as listless, image-conscious and easily duped by gimmickry is because the band itself is more about gimmickry, image and listlessness than making music. Maybe it’s the panda masks worn by this overinflated six-piece outfit that give it away. Maybe it’s the smug, mock cleverness of the song titles, such as “The Transplant Took, You Should Smile More,” “Our Band Is More American Than You” or “This Week Is Weaker Than The Weakerthans.” Maybe it’s the fact that they have the gall to denigrate the name of The Cure by claiming them as one of their influences. Or more likely, it’s a combination of all this and more.
The Nation of Symmetry is about as asymmetrical as you can get; a sprawling, seething, lurching mass of post-rock, punk fury and adoration of pop culture. There are instrumentals like the opener, “Pallaso,” and there are vocal (extremely vocal) tracks like “Michael Jordan’s Passing Game” and “Fancy Lad.” Whether or not these lyrics have anything useful to impart is a matter of debate. Not a single word is clear and they aren’t reprinted in the liner notes. By the same token, the songs are indistinguishable from one another. I’m not sure I would have noticed if the same track were repeated fourteen times, sometimes with lyrics, sometimes without. The production of the album is a further travesty. Doo-Yun Kim’ and Nicholas Seider’s screams are – thankfully, perhaps – fuzzed and tinny, and the obnoxious instrumentation is maxed out in every possible audio channel. From start to finish, it’s an impenetrable block of sound.
Rarely have I forced myself to endure an album so devoid of artistic merit, so bloated with self-importance, so utterly worthless in every conceivable way, for the sake of a review. In a time and place rich in possibilities for making more challenging, more enjoyable, more intricate music, this is the best these kids could do. – Eric J. Iannelli
Pixel
Panda
The Nation of Symmetry House of Tears Sound
(Counterpoint…)
A mesmerizing sound, encompassing raw fury and passion, this group forming in 2002 from Kansas City, MO reign supreme as one of the few groups to bring hard, fast, thrashing music to the extreme. Engaging the audience with their very suggestive political messages both in the lead singer’s high octane lyrics and vocal style, and the heavy influence into a Latin-pop feel, Pixel Panda look to take their new creative efforts on the road this year, hoping that The Nation of Symmetry will bring them fired-up fans eager to hear more. This sextet blends a heavy, murky sound on much of the record’s fourteen tracks intentionally, but just enough space is left between instruments to reveal a seasoned band producing genuinely complex and sophisticated tunes. Sophisticated in terms of their mature styles on guitars and keyboards, as well as the fusion of riveting bass lines and textured, dazzling percussion fills. Their hardcore feel is only further enhanced by occasional pop sensibilities and daring changes in both tempo and dynamics, as seen on “Fancy Lad,” “Bamboo” and “Our Band is More American than You.” Pixel Panda’s influences have helped them evolve and develop into a seasoned group, with sounds ranging from The Cure, Joy Division, and The Locust. The Nation of Symmetry brings a palette of Femicore, throwing in further themes of high fashion, video games and dystopia. One can be impressed by the storm of track then, “The Transplant Took, You Should Smile More.” And don’t forget the raging vocal swells and eclectic percussion and guitar riffs of “This Week’s Weaker than the Weakerthans.” At first listen, one who is not accustomed to Pixel’s sound may believe they’ve created a complete mess, perhaps a train wreck. But with further spins, a growing appreciation can be had for a solid performance with structure, dynamics and a most unique sound they can proudly call their own. - Shawn M. Haney
Listening to The Blackouts second album immediately makes apparent what exactly is wrong with The Strokes, The Vines, The Hives, The Libertines, The White Stripes, The Datsuns… in fact the whole '70s rock revival that has become the cause célèbre of Rolling Stone and NME. The bands in the media spotlight are good at what they do, especially when what they do involves making hit records, but their music invariably lacks something. Something essential. Heart, maybe. Chutzpah. Authenticity.
Living in Blue has all the swagger, fury, grit, recklessness and musicality of a true rock record. It's not difficult to spot the band's nods to their influences and predecessors, but it isn't simply the customary homage to Television, The Stooges and The Velvet Underground. The Clash, The Screaming Trees, Dinosaur Jr., Neil Young and The Cramps are represented here in addition to The Blackouts' original ideas, which are many. And they've put it all to good use. They can be hard-hitting, as on the grungy, punchy, whirlwind of the opener, "Something… I Can't Say." They can be subtle, as on the following track, "The Games That Play Us" – two minutes of rollicking instrumental (fans of The Screaming Trees' Uncle Anesthesia will find a goldmine of riffs here) that finally slows to a sneering reprimand telling the sap to pull himself out of his self-pity. They can also be sly and playful, as they are on the untitled eleventh track, which begins with a young girl solemnly announcing, "My name is Madeline and I'm about to take the test." From here she takes turns with a voice in distorted baritone reciting alternate poetic rhymes over Pat Olsen's pulsing bass.
To avoid further descriptive detours and put it plainly: Living in Blue is an excellent album. An outstanding album. A real rock album. It's the sort that grabs you instantly and then compels you to listen to it over and over and over, revealing something new and beautiful each time. It's the sort of album you keep in your player for weeks and then come back to a month from now, a year, ten years. It is as rare as it is brash as it enjoyable. Unequivocally, unreservedly recommended. – Eric J. Iannelli
Catchy, absorbing and enthusiastic, this quartet from New Jersey genuinely conveys a sense of youth and eccentricity as rarely delivered in this self-titled EP. This perfect little record is three songs guaranteed to leave you breathless with each individual listen. What’s so gratifying about this creation is that fact that you find yourself discovering something new each listen to further satiate your musical taste buds. For example the daring and eccentric hook in the first track, “Live Free or Die,” complete with riveting percussion statements by Joe Dingerdissen and brilliant counterpoint on the bass by Mike Alfano. Steve Bumgarner and Morgan Chen fill the record overflowing with dazzling, mind boggling guitar work. See track two for instance. “Fire in the Hole” has enough melodicism, witty lyrical flashes and dazzling instrumental work to leave you hungry, begging for more of this quite alluring, at times schizophrenic work. Don’t forget about the superbly effective use of dynamics and instrumental prowess, as proved once again the final track, a words-free piece entitled “Primer Premiere.” Skyline Rodeo is currently working on a full-length and is making frequent tour stops throughout the northeast, playing gigs in New York and nearby their hometown Brunswick, New Jersey. An unbelievable band with charming qualities of musical dexterity, extreme creativity and plenty of bright ideas exchanged between members, their talents are at times immeasurable. Their performances live are surely sophisticated, yet they seem to still leave enough breathing room to catch the audience into their spell of pop escapism, without diving off into an abstract essence, something of which they are quiet capable. - Shawn M. Haney
photo: Gus Menezes
Saeta
We Are Waiting All For Hope
Fish the Cat
Interesting little chamber rock outfit this trio. What makes it? Mostly Lesli Wood’s piano and occasionally Natalie Merchant-esque voice, plus Bob Smolenski’s ethereal cello lines and Matt Menovcik’s sparse guitar parts. (Dig his accordion licks too.). Those elements, together with topnotch songs such as “Grand Canyon” (a Stephen Merrit-penned sort of secular hymn in the neighborhood of John Hiatt’s “Have A Little Faith In Me”) and the meditative “You Fade,” give this band a unique, understated style that recalls Crash Test Dummies in its quietist, least ironic moments.
That said, although Menovcik’s gruff Brad Roberts-with-strep vocals serve as a nice counterpoint to Wood’s angelic utterances, you sometimes get the feeling that he’s forcing things a bit, putting on a sandpaper mask that hides a sound-enhancing sweetness. His voice grows on you, to be sure, but it proves hard going for the first couple of listens (especially on “Not For Today,” an otherwise fine tune, where Menovcik sounds like Lou Reed after taking a pigskin in the groin).
And although Steve Albini (who takes credit for co-producing this nine-song outing) occasionally leaves too-rough edges on discs he’s been involved with, those same less-than-glistening touches (or lack thereof) prove perfect here.
Hone in on the cover of the old Smiths tune “Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me.” Nice. – Jedd Beaudoin
The
Beautiful Mistake
This is Who You Are
The Militia Group
The Beautiful Mistake come through with a sizzling creation, This is Who You Are, released on the Militia Group label. With their sophomore effort, its enduring qualities and passionate musical escapism is approval enough to be a highly successful follow-up to Light a Match, For I Deserve to Burn. One is caught in the ocean’s wake of this group’s riveting personality as their heartfelt emotion bleeds through the record, giving oneself greater satisfaction toward every additional listen. The title track introduces a band of great promise, a package of complex, yet youthful guitars, lush and uplifting vocals, decadent bass lines and eclectic percussion statements. Experience and confidence as a tightly woven machine flows through “My Reminder,” complete with endearing acoustic guitars, and romantic vocal harmonies. “You‚re the brightest shining star I’ve ever seen/Oh, how blessed we are/to share in everything/life before was cold/cold and empty,” with its dazzling guitar riffs fits the mold of a perfect radio friendly hook. Though their art throughout these ten songs are powerful and heavy in a rock sense, their pop sensibility is expressed with grace, and the singer’s lyrics can be genuinely felt, with a personal message delivered with uncanny flair. “Cold Hearts” puts this record into perspective, showing the group’s veteran like qualities, a band that has been on the road and experienced their share of up’s and down’s. Now with there growing confidence, maturity and wisdom, The Beautiful Mistake has truly earned a spot in the limelight. Look for the title track to find airtime. Harmonies flow and flow (check out tracks five and nine, with intricate bass and percussion grooves, and brilliant guitar work that only groups with instrumental dexterity can master. Give this band kudos for their hard work. Now the challenge is straight ahead with success staring at them right in their collective face. They must play and live as a collective, as friends and band mates, to get through the storm. With their feet on the ground, and their seemingly effortless vocals and lush dynamics arrangements soaring to space, they should have no problem finding a whole crop of new listeners, and discovering the delicate balance between fame and fulfillment. - Shawn M. Haney
The Pale
Gravity Gets Things Done
Sidecho Records
The third full-length from Bellingham, WA’s The Pale reminds me of the popular high school band that won the talent contest year in and year out, then broke up after the lead guitarist packed off to college and the drummer took on a demanding management position at Domino’s. At times the music can be catchy, even mildly entertaining, but the lyrics and the voice delivering them are like a fourteen-year-old trying his best to write and sing something meaningful. While not lacking in enthusiasm, there is a lot – too much, in fact – on Gravity Gets Things Done that is simple, amateurish and naïve, and very little that is precocious and new. Outside of a young, undemanding following in their own small pond, it’s difficult to imagine them winning wider acclaim.
The Pale isn’t helped by the fact that at least one regional band has already cornered the indie power pop market they are trying to squeeze their way into, namely Death Cab for Cutie. (Because of the loose sonic similarities between the two bands, I was surprised not to see Chris Walla’s name on production or engineering credits, as he seems to have assisted with every album to emerge from the Seattle area since 2000. But David Bazan, aka Pedro the Lion, does get a mention about halfway through the thank yous, at which point the professional and artistic ties start to make sense.). What Death Cab have done they’ve consistently done extremely well, with the possible exception of The Photo Album (2001), and any band that tries to do the same and falls short of the mark inevitably sounds like a cheap imitation. So it is here. “We Never Fight or Disagree,” for instance, which strikes me as one of those solemnly ironic Death Cab titles, becomes something utterly jejune in the hands of The Pale, with frontman Gabe Archer irritatingly stretching his words to fit awkward meters. The song calls for the greater finesse and depth of Death Cab; yet these two qualities go missing on Gravity Gets Things Done.
Nevertheless, even if we were put an end to all such comparisons and speculate for a moment that Death Cab had never existed, and further still, that the members of The Pale had been able to come together and develop their current sound without a clear model to follow, Gravity Gets Things Done would be a mediocre album at best. There isn’t much other than a few polite melodies and a style of songwriting that, for all its earnestness, can’t compensate for a complete absence of substance. – Eric J. Iannelli
Fred Anderson/Hamid
Drake
Back Together Again
Thrill Jockey, 2004
Saxophonist Fred Anderson and Percussionist Hamid Drake have performed together for several decades in a variety of ensembles, but they have never recorded a duo album together. Back Together Again celebrates a special milestone for Anderson, released as it is on his 75th birthday.
Duo albums, particularly with drummers, have become something of a recent specialty of Anderson's; he has recorded duets with Steve McCall on Okka Disk and with Robert Barry on Thrill Jockey. But his collaboration with Drake brings something new to the table - Drake's proficiency with an assortment of ethnic percussion instruments. A number of frame drums, in particular, make their way into the sonic fabric of pieces such as "Leap Forward," which overdubs Drake enough times to sound like an entire percussion line.
The title track demonstrates the duo's almost extrasensory level of communication. They trade short phrases, Drake bringing out "melodies" on the drums that are of equal interest, despite being unpitched, to Anderson's. The tenor saxophonists soloing approach here is interesting; he employs a gradually additive transformation of small cells of pitch material into larger solos.
" Black Women," dedicated to both Anderson's and Drake's mothers, finds Anderson channeling the hard-blowing post-bop style of John Coltrane into powerful linear arcs; meanwhile, Drake creates a polyrhythmic background that articulates ornate phrases with rock-solid steadiness. After hearing the scintillating improvisations on Back Together Again, the only question that remains: "What took you two so long to record a duo record?" – Christian Carey
Blake
Rainey
Appetizer Sickness
Two Sheds