Ah, Momus, you raconteur, you clever boy, you international pervert, it's been too long, hasn't it? It's been, what, three years since last you confounded me with your music, and here you are again, with a new offering and a new series of frustrations for yours truly. If you're not familiar with the man, you must stop reading this review right now, go to the bottom of this page and click on his website. It's quite possible the man is The Last Gadabout, the rare breed of intellect presumed extinct a century ago, and as he's such a character, his life is worth investigating. Go ahead, we'll wait for you.
See, wasn't it worth it?
Otto Spooky is his umpteenth record, and it's very much a Momus record. His writing is always excellent; he's a very vivid, colorful writer, and you can never fault him for that. Momus' main flaw is a bit complex. See, it's not that he can't sing, and it's not that he can't write a lovely melody, and it's not that he can't write witty lyrics. It's just that he can't seem to coordinate himself to do all three at once. Sometimes he just tries too hard, and it fails miserably. "Bantam Boys" is the best example of this. The lyrics are set in a royal court, the music is magdregal, but it's sung in an absurd style that's meant to sound like a castrati, but sounds utterly Miss Piggy. (Then again, that may be exactly what he wanted his character to sound like.) Then there's "The Artist Overwhelmed," which is a really beautiful lyric with a great vocal performance, but the music backing him is just horrid.
As frustration is par for the course with Mr. Momus, so too does Otto Spooky have its moments. "Belvedere" and"Your Fat Friend" are incredibly silly songs that produces a giggle with every listen, even though the songs are, respectively, about a man who leads children to the darker side of life and a sadly overweight woman who cannot see herself as others see her. Then there's the pompous epic "Cockle Pickers," which sounds a bit like Donovan on a Prog kick, which is so over-the-top that it's downright enjoyable, even if the subject matter is a bit bleak. Then there's "Jesus In Furs." This is perhaps my favorite song--it references Lou Reed in quite an intelligent, interesting way--even though it's an ideological attack on Mel Gibson and his beliefs, and I think Momus is way off base.
Momus is a one of a kind man, and he's sneaky, for Otto Spooky has grown on me, and my opinion of the record has changed since starting this review. While I still will admit to not being a big fan of his music--I much prefer his journaling and his column writing to his recordings--I can't say that I didn't enjoy Otto Spooky. It's pure Momus--and interpret that however you wish.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.imomus.com
Label Website: http://www.darla.com
March 25, 2005
Various Artists "everything comes and goes"
As hard as it is to believe, Ozzy Osbourne's Black Sabbath used to be an awesome, scary band; people were afraid of them—people thought that Osbourne was the devil incarnate--because they just seemed so...evil. But the years--and a story line that almost seems to be straight out of a comic book--have not been so kind to them. Sure, they can sell out an entire reunion tour, but still--something's lost. Maybe it's that whole "with age comes respectability" thing. In fact, I'm sure of it. As much as a cliché as they may seem, Black Sabbath’s first four Sabbath are essential listening—they’re easily as important as the first four Led Zeppelin records, and it’s this era (with one exception) that Everything Comes and Goes: A Tribute to Black Sabbath pays tribute to.
In terms of tribute records, Everything Comes and Goes is a keeper. Unlike most tribute albums, it contains no half-assed versions or tossed-off covers by barely-talented musicians who substitute talent with sincerity. (Of course, it's hard for a record to have any fluff when there are only nine songs on it!) Still, the reverential nature of this project--a labor of love that took seven years to complete--makes up for the seemingly skimpy offerings.
The first track--"F/X" by the otherwise excellent Matmos-- is also the shortest AND the weakest song on Everything Comes and Goes; it's the only low point, and it's a low point simply because there's not much TO it--other than a brief moment of nearly inaudible electronica.
The first half of Everything Comes and Goes is good; it's primarily instrumental, too. Four Tet's soft take on "Iron Man" is quite soothing; it's downbeat. At first you'll think it's not the same without the vocals, you'll quickly realize that in this gentle, almost elevator music-styled rendition, there's a beauty to the song that you probably never noticed before. Ruins' "Reversible Sabbath" is a noise-rock medley, but the only song you'll probably recognize is, once again, "Iron Man." Paul Newman's "Fairies Wear Boots" is nice, as is Grails' "Black Sabbath." Do they have the same intensity as the originals? No, not really, but that's not the point; if you wanted to hear those heavy songs, why buy a tribute record?
It's the latter half of the record, though, that really makes things interesting. The Curtis Harvey Trio, a one-off group formed simply for this project, takes "Changes" into a down-home country ballad. So does The Anomoanon, who Oldham-fy "Planet Caravan" with a nice haze of whiskey, pot and humidity. (I'm not sure if brother Will is sitting in on this one, but it sure sounds like it. Racebannon's "Sabbath Bloody Sabbath" is the only song that attempts to repeat the sludge-rock of the original Sabbath, and they do it quite well, too. Album closer "Sweet Leaf," by Greenness w/Philly G, adds a bit of a hip-hop touch to this classic love song to pot, and their song is quite catchy, too; try not to hit repeat after listening to it!
In fact, after one listen to Everything Comes and Goes, it's downright impossible to stay away from it. Temporary Residence did it right; this is truly a labor of love. Sure, Ozzy might be a bit of a joke now, but this is proof positive that the music that brought him fame and fortune was not only excellent in its day, but is still inspirational nearly four decades later.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.temporaryresidence.com
In terms of tribute records, Everything Comes and Goes is a keeper. Unlike most tribute albums, it contains no half-assed versions or tossed-off covers by barely-talented musicians who substitute talent with sincerity. (Of course, it's hard for a record to have any fluff when there are only nine songs on it!) Still, the reverential nature of this project--a labor of love that took seven years to complete--makes up for the seemingly skimpy offerings.
The first track--"F/X" by the otherwise excellent Matmos-- is also the shortest AND the weakest song on Everything Comes and Goes; it's the only low point, and it's a low point simply because there's not much TO it--other than a brief moment of nearly inaudible electronica.
The first half of Everything Comes and Goes is good; it's primarily instrumental, too. Four Tet's soft take on "Iron Man" is quite soothing; it's downbeat. At first you'll think it's not the same without the vocals, you'll quickly realize that in this gentle, almost elevator music-styled rendition, there's a beauty to the song that you probably never noticed before. Ruins' "Reversible Sabbath" is a noise-rock medley, but the only song you'll probably recognize is, once again, "Iron Man." Paul Newman's "Fairies Wear Boots" is nice, as is Grails' "Black Sabbath." Do they have the same intensity as the originals? No, not really, but that's not the point; if you wanted to hear those heavy songs, why buy a tribute record?
It's the latter half of the record, though, that really makes things interesting. The Curtis Harvey Trio, a one-off group formed simply for this project, takes "Changes" into a down-home country ballad. So does The Anomoanon, who Oldham-fy "Planet Caravan" with a nice haze of whiskey, pot and humidity. (I'm not sure if brother Will is sitting in on this one, but it sure sounds like it. Racebannon's "Sabbath Bloody Sabbath" is the only song that attempts to repeat the sludge-rock of the original Sabbath, and they do it quite well, too. Album closer "Sweet Leaf," by Greenness w/Philly G, adds a bit of a hip-hop touch to this classic love song to pot, and their song is quite catchy, too; try not to hit repeat after listening to it!
In fact, after one listen to Everything Comes and Goes, it's downright impossible to stay away from it. Temporary Residence did it right; this is truly a labor of love. Sure, Ozzy might be a bit of a joke now, but this is proof positive that the music that brought him fame and fortune was not only excellent in its day, but is still inspirational nearly four decades later.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.temporaryresidence.com
March 22, 2005
Richard Pryor "Evolution/Revolution"
Richard Pryor has always been one of my inspirations. I remember seeing him on Pryor's Place and Superman III, and I fell in love, because the man made me laugh. When I was ten, I sent away for records in the Columbia House Record Club and I ordered Richard Pryor's Greatest Hits. I had no idea that this guy on the screen and my TV was also a foul-mouthed comedian who said the word 'nigger' a lot (a word I was taught not to use) and talked a lot about drugs, the black community and women. I used to listen to that tape secretly; my parents would have killed me had they known I had it. It used to disappear whenever my parents would go into my room to look for things, but I'd always find it again. When my parents bought our first VCR, I would rent his stand-up films or just about any movie that had the name Richard Pryor on it. (Not a good thing to do; he made a LOT of terrible films.) I listened to Greatest Hits so much, I quickly memorized every sketch. So, here I am, an impressionable kid, listening to Richard Pryor, without the benefit of context. To a kid in small-town East Texas, he was a glimpse into a world I had yet to learn about. I had no idea who Richard Pryor was. It wasn't until I was much, much older that I learned about his pre-history. Pryor started his career in the mid 1960s, and when he started out, his comedy wasn't edgy at all. It was merely OK Bill Cosby-styled observational humor, with none of the traits that would make him famous.
Evolution/Revolution serves as a companion piece to Pryor's essential And It's Deep, Too! boxed set. (Indeed, the absence of his classic second album, Craps'--which appears here--is quite noticeable.) There's a long history in the liner notes as to why they didn't appear--a complicated legal battle resulting in a small label being allowed to release archival material without Pryor's consent, which resulted in this tiny label releasing nearly twenty albums of this same, lesser--and often poorly recorded--material. Some of the set is no better than bootleg quality, but it's in the interest of history that this material is saved, but Pryor, who regained rights to this material three years ago, decided to wade through hours and hours of tapes, to give his early days a fair representation, as those years have seemingly been ignored for decades.
As heard on Evolution/Revolution's first disc, "Evolution," it's clear to see why he was toiling in obscurity. While his material was indeed funny, it often came across as too clean, too stiff and ultimately disposable. Don't misunderstand; Pryor could make an audience laugh--there was a reason he was a popular variety show guest--but in light of his later material, his wholesome style simply doesn't captivate. When you get to the tracks "Hippy Dippy" and "Hank's Place," things change. Out comes the "motherfucker" and the Richard Pryor we know and love and hate and detest and think badly of is born. And it's beautiful, too: both sketches are, in essence, autobiographical; the first, about teenagers playing ball and the gang playing head games on another boy to get a fight started, is, despite its pointless violence, a beautiful picture of a young black man growing up.
The second piece, "Hank's Place," is perhaps Pryor's greatest moment. It is essentially a prototype of his famous "After Hours" sketch, which appears on the "Revolution" disk. In it, he relates a tale of a gambling parlor ("a beautiful place with beautiful people") he frequented when he was a teenager, and he highlights characters that, while shady, he makes into beloved figures: Irma, a woman ("she was big and black and beautiful!" Pryor says lovingly) whose favorite thing to say is "Kiss my ass!"; Cold Blood, the pimp who wants to impress a young boy with his wealth, Weasel, the black-market merchant who sells thing from the back of his trunk ("Like Count Basie? I got the whole band out in the car."), Mister Perkins, the old man who wants to fix Hank's crap table for nothing (and 35 dollars and a fish sandwich), and Tarcy, the neighborhood beat cop. He doesn't speak of them in any bad manner--he treats them in a matter-of-fact way that's both disturbing (the middle-age farmers looking to buy sex from fourteen year old girls) and funny (the pimp's reaction to learning that Irma is in the back--"Irma's here? Aw, shit....She cusses me, and it's embarassing, really. She needs to join the NAACP and get herself straight!") His trademark--different voices--is in full force here; each character is distinctive enough that you might think the sketch was a radio play instead of a stand-up routine. Pryor's delivery is impeccable, as only the way a person in love with a memory can be.
"Revolution," the second disk, is unsurprising. The majority of the disk consists of his second album, Craps; a low-budget recording that contains several classic sketches. It's a typical set, with lots of talk about sex and women and drugs and police and racism, and it's the standard that his Seventies-era stand-up routine would follow. It also contains several unreleased pieces, including his monologue from the Wattstax festival, two or three alternate versions of sketches that would make him famous, including two different versions of his famous Wino character. The first, "Street Corner Wino," is a conversation between him and a local street thug. The second is an alternate version of his famous "Wino & Junkie" sketch. Both pieces predict the soon-to-be success of That Nigger's Crazy and Is It Something I Said?. Listening to both, it's clear that he's not making fun of these people, he's simply sharing his memories to a world that both understands quite well (the black community) and a world that had never been exposed to this slice of life--poverty, ghetto style.
Evolution/Revolution is a touching reminder of Pryor's early days. While it's obvious that the man is too sick to ever perform again, his disappearance from the stage due to the painfully slow torture of MS should not allow his memory to be forgotten. While this collection might be better suited for the more dedicated Richard Pryor fan, it's still a beautiful selection of material that's always funny and insightful into one of America's last true comedic geniuses.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.richardpryor.com
Label Website: http://www.rhino.com
Evolution/Revolution serves as a companion piece to Pryor's essential And It's Deep, Too! boxed set. (Indeed, the absence of his classic second album, Craps'--which appears here--is quite noticeable.) There's a long history in the liner notes as to why they didn't appear--a complicated legal battle resulting in a small label being allowed to release archival material without Pryor's consent, which resulted in this tiny label releasing nearly twenty albums of this same, lesser--and often poorly recorded--material. Some of the set is no better than bootleg quality, but it's in the interest of history that this material is saved, but Pryor, who regained rights to this material three years ago, decided to wade through hours and hours of tapes, to give his early days a fair representation, as those years have seemingly been ignored for decades.
As heard on Evolution/Revolution's first disc, "Evolution," it's clear to see why he was toiling in obscurity. While his material was indeed funny, it often came across as too clean, too stiff and ultimately disposable. Don't misunderstand; Pryor could make an audience laugh--there was a reason he was a popular variety show guest--but in light of his later material, his wholesome style simply doesn't captivate. When you get to the tracks "Hippy Dippy" and "Hank's Place," things change. Out comes the "motherfucker" and the Richard Pryor we know and love and hate and detest and think badly of is born. And it's beautiful, too: both sketches are, in essence, autobiographical; the first, about teenagers playing ball and the gang playing head games on another boy to get a fight started, is, despite its pointless violence, a beautiful picture of a young black man growing up.
The second piece, "Hank's Place," is perhaps Pryor's greatest moment. It is essentially a prototype of his famous "After Hours" sketch, which appears on the "Revolution" disk. In it, he relates a tale of a gambling parlor ("a beautiful place with beautiful people") he frequented when he was a teenager, and he highlights characters that, while shady, he makes into beloved figures: Irma, a woman ("she was big and black and beautiful!" Pryor says lovingly) whose favorite thing to say is "Kiss my ass!"; Cold Blood, the pimp who wants to impress a young boy with his wealth, Weasel, the black-market merchant who sells thing from the back of his trunk ("Like Count Basie? I got the whole band out in the car."), Mister Perkins, the old man who wants to fix Hank's crap table for nothing (and 35 dollars and a fish sandwich), and Tarcy, the neighborhood beat cop. He doesn't speak of them in any bad manner--he treats them in a matter-of-fact way that's both disturbing (the middle-age farmers looking to buy sex from fourteen year old girls) and funny (the pimp's reaction to learning that Irma is in the back--"Irma's here? Aw, shit....She cusses me, and it's embarassing, really. She needs to join the NAACP and get herself straight!") His trademark--different voices--is in full force here; each character is distinctive enough that you might think the sketch was a radio play instead of a stand-up routine. Pryor's delivery is impeccable, as only the way a person in love with a memory can be.
"Revolution," the second disk, is unsurprising. The majority of the disk consists of his second album, Craps; a low-budget recording that contains several classic sketches. It's a typical set, with lots of talk about sex and women and drugs and police and racism, and it's the standard that his Seventies-era stand-up routine would follow. It also contains several unreleased pieces, including his monologue from the Wattstax festival, two or three alternate versions of sketches that would make him famous, including two different versions of his famous Wino character. The first, "Street Corner Wino," is a conversation between him and a local street thug. The second is an alternate version of his famous "Wino & Junkie" sketch. Both pieces predict the soon-to-be success of That Nigger's Crazy and Is It Something I Said?. Listening to both, it's clear that he's not making fun of these people, he's simply sharing his memories to a world that both understands quite well (the black community) and a world that had never been exposed to this slice of life--poverty, ghetto style.
Evolution/Revolution is a touching reminder of Pryor's early days. While it's obvious that the man is too sick to ever perform again, his disappearance from the stage due to the painfully slow torture of MS should not allow his memory to be forgotten. While this collection might be better suited for the more dedicated Richard Pryor fan, it's still a beautiful selection of material that's always funny and insightful into one of America's last true comedic geniuses.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.richardpryor.com
Label Website: http://www.rhino.com
The Chemical Brothers "Push the Button"
Has it really been a decade since the brothers decided they were gonna work it out? It doesn't seem like it. Over the past decade, Tom Rowlands and Ed Simons, the British duo better known as The Chemical Brothers, have done quite a lot for music. They invented a formula for dance music, called The Big Beat, and over the past ten years, they've innovated and imitated their sound, releasing record after record built around that formula. Some of the records have been great; others have been mediocre. Though their role in the dance world has never been denied, the past few years seemingly haven't been so kind; between the imitators, the innovators, the evolving nature of their music, the fickle nature of the dance world and their adherence to the Big Beat, it's easy to understand how The Chemical Brothers might have lost their way.
Push the Button, their first new record in three years, is a clear return to form. It's as if they've remembered the rewarding formula that created Exit Planet Dust and Dig Your Own Hole; the beats sound brighter and more upbeat, the rhythms are intense and strong and everything else just seems so...spot-on. The quality of Push the Button is somewhat inexplicable; it's not that they've improved or altered their sound, it's a metaphysical feeling, as if they have repaired their magical aura. It's something that's noticeable from the first seconds of album opener "Galvanize," featuring Q-Tip. With a slightly Eastern rhythm, Q-Tip and the Brothers issue a loud and clear clarion call, announcing that They Have Returned.
A cynical mind might suggest that this is a smoke-and-mirrors trick, that the Brothers have merely saved the best track for first, but that's not the case with Push the Button. Every song is blessed with that same brilliant touch that makes it special; whether it's the anti-war cadence-call of "Left Right" to the sexy "White Lines"-meets-"Baba O'Riley" beat of "Come Inside" or the slightly Britpop "The Boxer" (with vocals by Tim Burgess), Push the Button never fails to let the listener down. Instead, it's easy to get lost within the album's numerous grooves. Repetitive listens are a given; considering their previous albums, who'd have thunk it? They save the best for last, though; "Surface to Air" is a wonderful blast of mid-80s post punk and new wave; it sounds like it was touched by the hand of Peter Hook, and it clearly blows away ALL imitators to the throne. So convincing was its sound, you'll be tempted to check and see if New Order put in a guest appearance. (They didn't.)
As it stands, Push the Button should not necessarily be considered a 'comeback' as much as a 'return to form.' Heck, it shouldn't even be called that. If anything, Push the Button is simply a new chapter in the Chemical Brothers' already stellar history, and if their next release can make this excellent record sound mediocre, then it only goes to show you exactly how talented these two nonchalant fellows really are.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.chemicalbrothers.com
Label Website: http://www.astralwerks.com
Push the Button, their first new record in three years, is a clear return to form. It's as if they've remembered the rewarding formula that created Exit Planet Dust and Dig Your Own Hole; the beats sound brighter and more upbeat, the rhythms are intense and strong and everything else just seems so...spot-on. The quality of Push the Button is somewhat inexplicable; it's not that they've improved or altered their sound, it's a metaphysical feeling, as if they have repaired their magical aura. It's something that's noticeable from the first seconds of album opener "Galvanize," featuring Q-Tip. With a slightly Eastern rhythm, Q-Tip and the Brothers issue a loud and clear clarion call, announcing that They Have Returned.
A cynical mind might suggest that this is a smoke-and-mirrors trick, that the Brothers have merely saved the best track for first, but that's not the case with Push the Button. Every song is blessed with that same brilliant touch that makes it special; whether it's the anti-war cadence-call of "Left Right" to the sexy "White Lines"-meets-"Baba O'Riley" beat of "Come Inside" or the slightly Britpop "The Boxer" (with vocals by Tim Burgess), Push the Button never fails to let the listener down. Instead, it's easy to get lost within the album's numerous grooves. Repetitive listens are a given; considering their previous albums, who'd have thunk it? They save the best for last, though; "Surface to Air" is a wonderful blast of mid-80s post punk and new wave; it sounds like it was touched by the hand of Peter Hook, and it clearly blows away ALL imitators to the throne. So convincing was its sound, you'll be tempted to check and see if New Order put in a guest appearance. (They didn't.)
As it stands, Push the Button should not necessarily be considered a 'comeback' as much as a 'return to form.' Heck, it shouldn't even be called that. If anything, Push the Button is simply a new chapter in the Chemical Brothers' already stellar history, and if their next release can make this excellent record sound mediocre, then it only goes to show you exactly how talented these two nonchalant fellows really are.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.chemicalbrothers.com
Label Website: http://www.astralwerks.com
March 21, 2005
Genghis Tron "Cloak of Love"
Genghis Tron’s debut EP, Cloak of Love, is a mess. A beautiful, noise-ridden, electronic sheet of noise blast of messy electronic music meets punk rock meets a little bit of hip-hop and a whole lot of weirdness. Normally, such a messy musical mess might be a little too much of a loose-cannon description, but that is perhaps the best way to describe Genghis Tron’s style. This is music that is extreme and normally not easy to listen to, but there’s something charming about Cloak of Love. Underneath those noisy moments, there’s a pretty melody screaming, fighting and trying to get out. On “Laser Bitch,” you’ll find a great Belgian dance rhythm that’s not unlike a weird blending of KMFDM and New Order or the better moments of mid-80s Wax Trax! On “Sing Disorder” and “Rock Candy,” you’ll get a blast of noise that’s kind of like Dillinger Escape Plan or The Locust, but with a bit more melody. I’d mention the singing, but it’s more like loud, vocal-chord destroying screaming, but even that sounds nice! I’m not always one for noise-rock like this, but this record—it is strangely addictive. At five tracks, they kept it brief—which probably adds to the appeal as well. All and all, Cloak of Love is an oddly compelling listen that will leave you entranced.
--Joseph Kyle
Band Website: http://www.genghistron.com
Label Website: http://www.crucialblast.net
--Joseph Kyle
Band Website: http://www.genghistron.com
Label Website: http://www.crucialblast.net
The Kills "NO Wow"
Back in 2003, The Kills wowed the world with their down and dirty debut album, Keep On Your Mean Side. Lead singer VV—nee Alison Mosshart, lead singer of Florida’s Discount—transformed from punk rocker into a gutsy, ballsy and downright sultry blues-rock chanteuse and general rock and roll badass. Teamed up with the sounds-older-than-he-is Hotel, the duo wrecked shop on the house of Royal Trux, White Stripes and any and all pretenders to the then-trendy garage-rock blues revivalists—and damn, it was much appreciated, because The Kills were rulers of a classy world all their own.
With No Wow, The Kills have refined their raw sound into something much more impressive. It is a real feat for a band to make a record that is simultaneously rawer and rougher than their debut, all the while sounding much more polished, but that’s exactly what The Kills have accomplished. Throughout the record, blues-rock riffs meet up with danceable rhythms, and with VV’s sultry voice, songs like “No Wow” and “I Hate The Way You Love” sound like a one-night stand with the girl or guy your mama warned you about.
For No Wow, VV takes over the vocal spotlight, which is not a bad thing at ALL. VV picks up his slack, though, and his presence, while missed, isn’t something you’d notice. Hotel does sing here and there, and when he does, it sounds GREAT, especially the excellent “Love Is A Deserter,” and participates in a great vocal interplay on the T-Rex-inspired “The Good Ones.” Their vocal interplay makes No Wow even more powerful. “At The Back Of The Shell” is one of the album’s roughest tracks—it’s just scratchy guitar and loops of handclaps—but their vocal interplay, like a musical yin-yang, will draw you in, impress you and turn you on.
One word best describes No Wow: SEXY. It’s one of the dirtiest, most soulful records you’ll hear this year. This is music for passionate people made by passionate people, and methinks they’ve accomplished their mission if, after listening, you’re left wanting a cigarette and feeling a little bit dirty.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.thekills.tv
Label Website: http://www.rcarecords.com
With No Wow, The Kills have refined their raw sound into something much more impressive. It is a real feat for a band to make a record that is simultaneously rawer and rougher than their debut, all the while sounding much more polished, but that’s exactly what The Kills have accomplished. Throughout the record, blues-rock riffs meet up with danceable rhythms, and with VV’s sultry voice, songs like “No Wow” and “I Hate The Way You Love” sound like a one-night stand with the girl or guy your mama warned you about.
For No Wow, VV takes over the vocal spotlight, which is not a bad thing at ALL. VV picks up his slack, though, and his presence, while missed, isn’t something you’d notice. Hotel does sing here and there, and when he does, it sounds GREAT, especially the excellent “Love Is A Deserter,” and participates in a great vocal interplay on the T-Rex-inspired “The Good Ones.” Their vocal interplay makes No Wow even more powerful. “At The Back Of The Shell” is one of the album’s roughest tracks—it’s just scratchy guitar and loops of handclaps—but their vocal interplay, like a musical yin-yang, will draw you in, impress you and turn you on.
One word best describes No Wow: SEXY. It’s one of the dirtiest, most soulful records you’ll hear this year. This is music for passionate people made by passionate people, and methinks they’ve accomplished their mission if, after listening, you’re left wanting a cigarette and feeling a little bit dirty.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.thekills.tv
Label Website: http://www.rcarecords.com
Aqueduct "I Sold Gold"
Tulsa, Oklahoma produced a boy genius, and his name is David Terry. All by his lonesome, he created an enigmatic one-man musical concept called Aqueduct, a product of electronic bleeps and blips, witty lyrics and great singing. (Dear readers, please don’t let that comparison make you think of Atom & His Package. While Atom was great, Aqueduct is so BEYOND that level of novelty.) Before relocating to the Northwest and becoming the toast of Seattle, he released an album, Power Ballads, which was an impressive yet auspicious debut; it impressed the powers that be enough that he soon found himself opening and touring with great bands such as Modest Mouse and the Flaming Lips. Many of the songs on Power Ballads reappear on I Sold Gold, Aqueduct’s full-length debut for Barsuk. It’s okay, because those songs deserve to be heard; after all, nuggets of pure pop genius don’t deserve to suffer in the dustbin of obscurity and self-released records only a few people get to hear.
And what great songs they are! Terry sings songs about all kinds of things, and he sings them all quite well. He sings about growing up while listening to Guns ‘n’ Roses (the self-explanatory “Growing up with G’n’R”). He sings of the hassles of being an indie-rocker in the middle of nowhere (“The Tulsa Trap”). He dedicates his time singing to people who hate his music and how he feels about those who dislike him (“Laundry Basket”). Most of all, he’s singing about the one thing people sing about the most: love. It’s not easy being a one-man band, and Terry’s had his heart broken a few times. So he sings songs about being happy in love (“Tension”) and all those other not so happy moments (everything else, it seems).
Of course, heartbreak for a boy wonder often translates into great pop songs, and I Sold Gold is certainly gold for those wanting literate songs about love, life and heartbreak.. His songs aren’t lo-fi, but they’re certainly charming in that lo-fi and in love kind of way. Exuding a charm that’s equal parts Magnetic Fields, They Might Be Giants and Brian Wilson—without actually SOUNDING like any of the above—Aqueduct will win you over the only way it knows how—sincerity. I Sold Gold is a very sincere record; it’s the simple, heartfelt nature of his words that makes Aqueduct more than just a geeky one-man bedroom experiment. “Whenever/Whenever/Whenever you fall apart/Forget her/Forget her/Forget her/She broke your heart” is great advice from a man who sounds like he knows what that girl did to you because she did it to him, too. The simple message of the song, “Whenever you are lonely you are not alone” undoes everything Morrissey did in the 1990s.
I Sold Gold is a solid gold collection of perky, funny and utterly catchy indie-pop. David Terry’s debut might have been auspicious, but he’s here NOW, and his music is colorful and beautiful and fun and enjoyable and it should sell gold.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.aqeductisgoodmusic.com
Label Website: http://www.barsuk.com
And what great songs they are! Terry sings songs about all kinds of things, and he sings them all quite well. He sings about growing up while listening to Guns ‘n’ Roses (the self-explanatory “Growing up with G’n’R”). He sings of the hassles of being an indie-rocker in the middle of nowhere (“The Tulsa Trap”). He dedicates his time singing to people who hate his music and how he feels about those who dislike him (“Laundry Basket”). Most of all, he’s singing about the one thing people sing about the most: love. It’s not easy being a one-man band, and Terry’s had his heart broken a few times. So he sings songs about being happy in love (“Tension”) and all those other not so happy moments (everything else, it seems).
Of course, heartbreak for a boy wonder often translates into great pop songs, and I Sold Gold is certainly gold for those wanting literate songs about love, life and heartbreak.. His songs aren’t lo-fi, but they’re certainly charming in that lo-fi and in love kind of way. Exuding a charm that’s equal parts Magnetic Fields, They Might Be Giants and Brian Wilson—without actually SOUNDING like any of the above—Aqueduct will win you over the only way it knows how—sincerity. I Sold Gold is a very sincere record; it’s the simple, heartfelt nature of his words that makes Aqueduct more than just a geeky one-man bedroom experiment. “Whenever/Whenever/Whenever you fall apart/Forget her/Forget her/Forget her/She broke your heart” is great advice from a man who sounds like he knows what that girl did to you because she did it to him, too. The simple message of the song, “Whenever you are lonely you are not alone” undoes everything Morrissey did in the 1990s.
I Sold Gold is a solid gold collection of perky, funny and utterly catchy indie-pop. David Terry’s debut might have been auspicious, but he’s here NOW, and his music is colorful and beautiful and fun and enjoyable and it should sell gold.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.aqeductisgoodmusic.com
Label Website: http://www.barsuk.com
March 10, 2005
The Loved Ones "The Loved Ones"
Seems like behind-the-scenester Dave Hause--who'd managed and booked numerous punk bands from his hometown of Philadelphia, as well as being a member of The Curse--couldn't resist the temptation of making his own music. It's a good thing he did, because The Loved Ones' self-titled debut EP is a really awesome little record. Though House's legacy is clearly established in the house of punk, the music on The Loved Ones isn't really punk. It's rock, but it's not hard, either. Some might dare call it e*o, but we won't, because it's really better than that.
While only five short songs long, The Loved Ones quickly charms you with its simplicity and heartfealt nature. Hause's voice is raspy but appealing; his band is tight, and the melodies are extremely charming. The songs are all poppy and anthemic--it's easy to see them as a band who can get their audience to sing along with every song. (It's also not hard to see these songs being popular on teen dramas like The OC, but that's a whole 'nother discussion.) On songs "100K" and "Candy Cane," they show the keen ability to rock out and on "Massive" and "Drastic," they prove themselves adept at mellower fare.
The Loved Ones is simply fun music. It's great music for parties, for rockin' out and for driving--even though the plastic CD design doesn't play in my car stereo. (Insert frowny emoticon here.) Ah well, c'est la vie; The Loved Ones are the last essential pop-punk band, and here's to a bright future.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.thelovedonesband.com
Label Website: http://www.jadetree.com
While only five short songs long, The Loved Ones quickly charms you with its simplicity and heartfealt nature. Hause's voice is raspy but appealing; his band is tight, and the melodies are extremely charming. The songs are all poppy and anthemic--it's easy to see them as a band who can get their audience to sing along with every song. (It's also not hard to see these songs being popular on teen dramas like The OC, but that's a whole 'nother discussion.) On songs "100K" and "Candy Cane," they show the keen ability to rock out and on "Massive" and "Drastic," they prove themselves adept at mellower fare.
The Loved Ones is simply fun music. It's great music for parties, for rockin' out and for driving--even though the plastic CD design doesn't play in my car stereo. (Insert frowny emoticon here.) Ah well, c'est la vie; The Loved Ones are the last essential pop-punk band, and here's to a bright future.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.thelovedonesband.com
Label Website: http://www.jadetree.com
Bear Claw "Finds the Sun"
Chicago trio Bear Claw takes its name from a hometown dessert that is usually made from a sweet yeast dough or Danish pastry dough. Three or four small cuts are made in the pastry, which is then gently bent and spread to form the likeness of a bear claw. I didn’t know that such a dessert existed until I did further research on the band after listening to their debut album Find the Sun a couple of times. When I first heard their angry, coarse music I thought that their band name was meant to evoke danger or violence. I imagined a bear tearing a zealous hunter to pieces after being rudely awakened from its hibernation. The style of music that Bear Claw plays is the last thing one would expect from a band named after a dessert. After reading the album’s lyric sheet, though, the choice of nomenclature makes a bit more sense. Underneath all the shouting and distortion, the songs on Find the Sun are motivated by a forlorn sense of reflection that is occasionally sweet, and frequently veers dangerously close to “emo.”
Bassist Rich Fossler and drummer Scott Picco spend the first two minutes of opening track “Repetition” screaming like bipolar carnival barkers. “These broken lines lie dead,” they shout, “like flowers once alive with beauty but now shriveled to nearly nothing.” I expect lyrics like that to be nasally sung by the lead singer of a pubescent Hot Topic faux-punk band, but Fossler and Picco imbue these words with an intensity that makes them sound like bar-fight intimidation. Occasionally, the lyrics make a more obvious fit with the furious vocal delivery. On “832,” they make a vow of vengeance against a two-faced antagonist: “Two can play the game of smiley glad-hand, and I’m gladly going to shove my hand straight up your ass!” More often than not, though, Fossler’s and Picco’s Fugazi-like vocal tug of war is employed in service of florid high school poetry. The chorus of “Jigsaw” is a cliched plea for salvation: “I believe you can help me to find my wings again/I believe in you/Please teach me to fly.”
Find the Sun will be a much more rewarding listen for people who don’t bother to read lyric sheets. They’ll focus more on the power and dexterity of the band’s instrumental attack. Bear Claw consists of two bassists and a drummer, an unconventional configuration that has inspired many inaccurate comparisons to another Chicago band, Dianogah. Unlike Dianogah, though, Bear Claw hold no jazz ambitions, and they’re much more eager to coat their songs in noise and distortion. Fossler and second bassist Rob Raspolich fill the songs with more than enough harmonized riffs, fleet-fingered arpeggios and jarring sound effects to compensate for the absence of a guitar. On some songs, such as “Jigsaw” and “Without the Sun,” you’ll swear that they’ve buried a guitar or two in the mix, but Steve Albini’s trademark no-frills engineering style leaves enough space in the music to convince you otherwise.
I find it ironic that the album’s second song, “Sorry I Must Have Forgot My Ticket,” takes potshots at trend-hopping scenesters. “Try to learn sometime,” they shout, “music’s not a fashion line.” Bear Claw get away with such chastisement only because the jagged, uniquely Midwestern post-punk they play went out of style years ago (although the recent reformation of Slint might make me rethink this assertion soon). If Find the Sun was released in 1996, they themselves might be looked down on as sonic opportunists. Hopefully, Bear Claw’s decision to stay slightly behind the times will enable their music to be evaluated on its own merit. I look forward to their next CD, even if it means I have to keep the booklet closed while listening to it.
---Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.bearclawrock.com
Label Website: http://www.sickroomrecords.com
Bassist Rich Fossler and drummer Scott Picco spend the first two minutes of opening track “Repetition” screaming like bipolar carnival barkers. “These broken lines lie dead,” they shout, “like flowers once alive with beauty but now shriveled to nearly nothing.” I expect lyrics like that to be nasally sung by the lead singer of a pubescent Hot Topic faux-punk band, but Fossler and Picco imbue these words with an intensity that makes them sound like bar-fight intimidation. Occasionally, the lyrics make a more obvious fit with the furious vocal delivery. On “832,” they make a vow of vengeance against a two-faced antagonist: “Two can play the game of smiley glad-hand, and I’m gladly going to shove my hand straight up your ass!” More often than not, though, Fossler’s and Picco’s Fugazi-like vocal tug of war is employed in service of florid high school poetry. The chorus of “Jigsaw” is a cliched plea for salvation: “I believe you can help me to find my wings again/I believe in you/Please teach me to fly.”
Find the Sun will be a much more rewarding listen for people who don’t bother to read lyric sheets. They’ll focus more on the power and dexterity of the band’s instrumental attack. Bear Claw consists of two bassists and a drummer, an unconventional configuration that has inspired many inaccurate comparisons to another Chicago band, Dianogah. Unlike Dianogah, though, Bear Claw hold no jazz ambitions, and they’re much more eager to coat their songs in noise and distortion. Fossler and second bassist Rob Raspolich fill the songs with more than enough harmonized riffs, fleet-fingered arpeggios and jarring sound effects to compensate for the absence of a guitar. On some songs, such as “Jigsaw” and “Without the Sun,” you’ll swear that they’ve buried a guitar or two in the mix, but Steve Albini’s trademark no-frills engineering style leaves enough space in the music to convince you otherwise.
I find it ironic that the album’s second song, “Sorry I Must Have Forgot My Ticket,” takes potshots at trend-hopping scenesters. “Try to learn sometime,” they shout, “music’s not a fashion line.” Bear Claw get away with such chastisement only because the jagged, uniquely Midwestern post-punk they play went out of style years ago (although the recent reformation of Slint might make me rethink this assertion soon). If Find the Sun was released in 1996, they themselves might be looked down on as sonic opportunists. Hopefully, Bear Claw’s decision to stay slightly behind the times will enable their music to be evaluated on its own merit. I look forward to their next CD, even if it means I have to keep the booklet closed while listening to it.
---Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.bearclawrock.com
Label Website: http://www.sickroomrecords.com
March 08, 2005
Tarentel "Paper White"/"Big Black Square"
Last year, epic post-rockers Tarnetel released a gentle record, We Move Through Weather. It was a collection of gorgeous instrumentals that were sometimes heavy, sometimes soft and always beautiful. They had several tracks left over from those sessions, but instead of leaving them in the vaults, they decided to release them as Paper White and Big Black Square. As concepts go, the band wishes for you to consider these two records as 'bookends' to We Move Through Weather, with Paper White being the gentle beginning and Big Black Square the grand finale.
Such a concept might be a bit haughty, but it's easy to see their reasoning. Paper White consists of four 'brief' songs (for Tarentel, that is); while they're pretty, they're not quite as delicate and gentle as their previous album--in fact, the songs have a bit of a generic feel to them--but they're certainly relaxing. Opening number "Isalais Straight" is a raw space-rock number that takes off quickly on a fast pace (for Tarentel, that is), quickly turning into "Open Letter to Hummingbirds," which is a bit more gentle than the first track. Unfortunately, "Golden State Overnight" and "Paper White" really don't sound that different from the other two tracks; pretty, yes, but a bit repetitive. The four songs have a feel that's akin to a jam session; the songs have a very immediate feel, but they also lack polish.
Big Black Square, the conceptual finale, is quite different. It's one long, 43-minute song. It starts off slow--very, very slow, with a gentle drone and a sample of falling rain playing in the background. It quickly builds up and goes higher and higher and louder; it starts off gentle and then gets really, really big and bold and loud and epic and grand and it's very much an album closer sort of song, even though it is album length. With a name that uses the phrase 'big black,' you might be led to believe it would be a harsh, noisy rock onslaught a la Steve Albini, but don't let the reference fool you; this is a far cry from anything he's done.
At first, I was a bit ambivalent about these two records, but I'm not so ambivalent about them now. These two EP's are pretty, and while they might not match up to the gorgeous We Move Through Weather, they do make a beautiful noise that's all their own, and you can't hate 'em for that. Certainly not a bad addition to Tarentel's fine discography.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.tarentel.com
Label Website: http://www.temporaryresidence.com
Such a concept might be a bit haughty, but it's easy to see their reasoning. Paper White consists of four 'brief' songs (for Tarentel, that is); while they're pretty, they're not quite as delicate and gentle as their previous album--in fact, the songs have a bit of a generic feel to them--but they're certainly relaxing. Opening number "Isalais Straight" is a raw space-rock number that takes off quickly on a fast pace (for Tarentel, that is), quickly turning into "Open Letter to Hummingbirds," which is a bit more gentle than the first track. Unfortunately, "Golden State Overnight" and "Paper White" really don't sound that different from the other two tracks; pretty, yes, but a bit repetitive. The four songs have a feel that's akin to a jam session; the songs have a very immediate feel, but they also lack polish.
Big Black Square, the conceptual finale, is quite different. It's one long, 43-minute song. It starts off slow--very, very slow, with a gentle drone and a sample of falling rain playing in the background. It quickly builds up and goes higher and higher and louder; it starts off gentle and then gets really, really big and bold and loud and epic and grand and it's very much an album closer sort of song, even though it is album length. With a name that uses the phrase 'big black,' you might be led to believe it would be a harsh, noisy rock onslaught a la Steve Albini, but don't let the reference fool you; this is a far cry from anything he's done.
At first, I was a bit ambivalent about these two records, but I'm not so ambivalent about them now. These two EP's are pretty, and while they might not match up to the gorgeous We Move Through Weather, they do make a beautiful noise that's all their own, and you can't hate 'em for that. Certainly not a bad addition to Tarentel's fine discography.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.tarentel.com
Label Website: http://www.temporaryresidence.com
Various Artists "A Houseguest's Wish"
On the surface, the concept seems a bit peculiar, if not a little bit monotonous: an album with nineteen bands covering the same song? Sounds kinda absurd. But then again Wire--the composers of this song, "Outdoor Miner"--have often done things that superficially seem quite absurd. But A Houseguest's Wish, absurd as it may seem, serves as perhaps the best Wire tribute to date. In a way, it's an odd song to fixate on; it was the only pop "hit" Wire ever had, and had it not been removed from the British charts due to an issue of payola, Wire's career might have been substantially different.
Though most of the bands are from the dreampop/shoegazing scene, there are some surprises.. Two classic versions appear here; Lush's version, taken from an early 1990's B-side, is pure dreampop heaven, while Flying Saucer Attack's take is harsh yet dreamy in only the way that FSA can be. It's nice that these have been rescued from obscurity, but they've got clear competition. Should turn in a relaxing instrumental version that's really mellow in a lounge-jazz kind of way. Typewriter's take is as poppy and perhaps the most faithful. Above the Orange Trees turns it into the best song Coldplay never wrote. Swervedriver's Adam Franklin turns it into a beautiful, sad acoustic number. Boy Division turns it into a punk-rock slaughter. Kick On The Floods turns it into a Crosby, Stills and Nash-meets-Grandaddy styled 70s rock number. Titania turns up the bliss and make it even dreamier than Lush's perfect-pop version. Laura Walting turns in an indie-pop version that's almost too twee to believe. The Meeting Places turn in a stoned-out Dinosaur Jr-esque rock version that sounds great, too.
A Houseguest's Wish is an amazing concept to an amazing band's amazing song, and it's nowhere near as monotonous or dull as you might expect. The variety of styles, the variety of the bands and the love that all of these acts have for the song make this tribute even more special. This is a labor of love, and it's a rather fun listen.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.words-on-music.com
Though most of the bands are from the dreampop/shoegazing scene, there are some surprises.. Two classic versions appear here; Lush's version, taken from an early 1990's B-side, is pure dreampop heaven, while Flying Saucer Attack's take is harsh yet dreamy in only the way that FSA can be. It's nice that these have been rescued from obscurity, but they've got clear competition. Should turn in a relaxing instrumental version that's really mellow in a lounge-jazz kind of way. Typewriter's take is as poppy and perhaps the most faithful. Above the Orange Trees turns it into the best song Coldplay never wrote. Swervedriver's Adam Franklin turns it into a beautiful, sad acoustic number. Boy Division turns it into a punk-rock slaughter. Kick On The Floods turns it into a Crosby, Stills and Nash-meets-Grandaddy styled 70s rock number. Titania turns up the bliss and make it even dreamier than Lush's perfect-pop version. Laura Walting turns in an indie-pop version that's almost too twee to believe. The Meeting Places turn in a stoned-out Dinosaur Jr-esque rock version that sounds great, too.
A Houseguest's Wish is an amazing concept to an amazing band's amazing song, and it's nowhere near as monotonous or dull as you might expect. The variety of styles, the variety of the bands and the love that all of these acts have for the song make this tribute even more special. This is a labor of love, and it's a rather fun listen.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.words-on-music.com
The Mars Volta "Frances the Mute"
Wow.
Let me repeat that.
Wow.
My first listen to Francis The Mute left me speechless. My second listen left me speechless and emotionally drained. My third listen...well, I don't really remember it. I do remember I had to turn it off in the middle of epic "Miranda That Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore" because I couldn't take the onslaught any more, it was simply too much--if I continued on, I feared I wouldn't live to make it to the end. The denseness of the attack, the overwhelming force of Frances The Mute and the grandness of it all make it a record unlike anything I've heard in the last twenty years.
That's kind of an obvious thing, though, because Frances The Mute is so unlike anything that's been made in the past thirty years. It's got ties to prog rock--and artwork by Seventies-era rock legend Storm Thorgerson--but it's not prog. It's got long, epic songs--five songs in seventy-five minutes--but there's not a moment that's pompous, overblown or unnecessary. It's not indie-rock. It's not metal. It's not hard rock. It's not even really rock and roll. It doesn't really sound like anyone; it has no sonic ties whatsoever to At The Drive-In, and it doesn't really have any ties to previous Mars Volta releases, either. Strings come in and out in between blasts of guitar, while trumpets accentuate the musical attack. Cedric Bixler Zavala's singing--which flutters between Engilish and Spanish--is powerful and operatic; the nearest comparison is Jeff Buckley, but Buckley's never showed the capacity for anything quite like this, and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez's compositions are unlike any he's ever done. Compared to Frances The Mute, their debut album--the quite brilliant De-Loused In The Comatorium--utterly sucks.
A rumor a few months back indicated that the band had to concede to commerce and give the songs titles and breaks. Such a rumor sure seems true, because that's about the only compromise on Frances The Mute. Without a clear view of the CD player, you would never, ever know where each song ends and a new one begins. It's certainly true of "Cassandra Gemini," the half-hour long song that was puzzlingly divided into eight sections. Seamed together perfectly, Frances The Mute is meant to be experienced from beginning to end, and these divides really distract from the entire concept. "The Widow" is the only song that's probably suitable for radio airplay, simply because it's the only song short enough for radio play.
Okay, so Frances The Mute is not an easy listen. Why should everything be easy to grasp? Just because it's not an easy listen doesn't mean it's not an excellent record that can be enjoyed, and that's certainly true with the Mars Volta's case. I've spent the day being overwhelmed by this wonderful record, and I still feel as if I've not captured the essence of this brilliant work of art. Their songs may be dense, overwhelmingly strong and of epic length, but that doesn't take away one iota from the grand statement they're making, nor should you disregard the other most obvious thing about Frances The Mute--it's utterly beautiful.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.themarsvolta.com
Label Website: http://www.universalrecords.com
Let me repeat that.
Wow.
My first listen to Francis The Mute left me speechless. My second listen left me speechless and emotionally drained. My third listen...well, I don't really remember it. I do remember I had to turn it off in the middle of epic "Miranda That Ghost Just Isn't Holy Anymore" because I couldn't take the onslaught any more, it was simply too much--if I continued on, I feared I wouldn't live to make it to the end. The denseness of the attack, the overwhelming force of Frances The Mute and the grandness of it all make it a record unlike anything I've heard in the last twenty years.
That's kind of an obvious thing, though, because Frances The Mute is so unlike anything that's been made in the past thirty years. It's got ties to prog rock--and artwork by Seventies-era rock legend Storm Thorgerson--but it's not prog. It's got long, epic songs--five songs in seventy-five minutes--but there's not a moment that's pompous, overblown or unnecessary. It's not indie-rock. It's not metal. It's not hard rock. It's not even really rock and roll. It doesn't really sound like anyone; it has no sonic ties whatsoever to At The Drive-In, and it doesn't really have any ties to previous Mars Volta releases, either. Strings come in and out in between blasts of guitar, while trumpets accentuate the musical attack. Cedric Bixler Zavala's singing--which flutters between Engilish and Spanish--is powerful and operatic; the nearest comparison is Jeff Buckley, but Buckley's never showed the capacity for anything quite like this, and Omar Rodriguez-Lopez's compositions are unlike any he's ever done. Compared to Frances The Mute, their debut album--the quite brilliant De-Loused In The Comatorium--utterly sucks.
A rumor a few months back indicated that the band had to concede to commerce and give the songs titles and breaks. Such a rumor sure seems true, because that's about the only compromise on Frances The Mute. Without a clear view of the CD player, you would never, ever know where each song ends and a new one begins. It's certainly true of "Cassandra Gemini," the half-hour long song that was puzzlingly divided into eight sections. Seamed together perfectly, Frances The Mute is meant to be experienced from beginning to end, and these divides really distract from the entire concept. "The Widow" is the only song that's probably suitable for radio airplay, simply because it's the only song short enough for radio play.
Okay, so Frances The Mute is not an easy listen. Why should everything be easy to grasp? Just because it's not an easy listen doesn't mean it's not an excellent record that can be enjoyed, and that's certainly true with the Mars Volta's case. I've spent the day being overwhelmed by this wonderful record, and I still feel as if I've not captured the essence of this brilliant work of art. Their songs may be dense, overwhelmingly strong and of epic length, but that doesn't take away one iota from the grand statement they're making, nor should you disregard the other most obvious thing about Frances The Mute--it's utterly beautiful.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.themarsvolta.com
Label Website: http://www.universalrecords.com
Thomas Simon "Walkabout"
Thomas Simon decided to take a trip around the world. Thomas Simon also decided to preserve his trip on record, recording musicians in Nepal, India and Brazil. He recorded his exploits on film, and Walkabout is the soundtrack to that cinematic journey. Not being familiar with his previous work, his information says that he has a love of blending the tribal music of the world into one genreless style. I could see that, but it's not really obvious on Walkabout, which is straightforward world beat, with a little bit of fusion here and there. In a way, this reminds me a lot of the field recordings of Grateful Dead drummer Mickey Hart. Over the sixteen tracks, you'll experience all kinds of colorful sounds, from dark and brooding ("Walk About," "Somewhere Else") to bright and festive ("Rock Jog," "A Child's Smile") and all points in between. Occasionally Simon sings, and though I can see why he'd want to, I'm not so keen on those moments, as it seems to take away from the grandness of the record. Not a major complaint, mind you, but one that's worth noting. A pleasant, interesting journey through the world's overlooked nooks.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.endorphinrecords.com
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.endorphinrecords.com
Cex "Starship Galactica"
Ahh, Cex. Everyone likes Cex. Well, at least around here, we do. Rjyan Kidwell, he’s a bit of a kidder, he’s also a bit of a boy genius, what with the rhyming skills and the hip-hop composing abilities of his. Way back in the day, before he showed the world his steez, he was more of an experimental artist-type, aiming to make thoughtful laptop composures with funny song titles. Thus, he released Starship Galactica way back in 2001 (though these songs were recorded several years before) on Stewart Anderson’s 555 Recordings label. In that pre-rapper era, his music was fun and funny, but it really wasn’t all that distinctive. There were some gorgeous moments, like the really pretty “Your Handwriting When You Were a Child in Winter,” and there were some really silly moments (the “Hi Scores” sketch) but all in all, it wasn’t a distinctive Cex record. For the most part, the pieces seemed unfocused and unfinished, though even then they did have a certain charm and intelligence to them. He’d soon abandon these more straightforward ways in order to be an MC. Reissued, Starship Galactica contains three bonus tracks, but none of them are particularly distinctive, As a record, it must mean a great deal to Kidwell, because it’s not one of his brighter moments.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.temporaryresidence.com
Label Website: http://www.rjyan.com
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.temporaryresidence.com
Label Website: http://www.rjyan.com
March 07, 2005
Eric Matthews "Six Kinds of Passion Looking For An Exit"
After eight years, baroque-pop meister Eric Matthews breaks his silence and returns with Six Kinds of Passion Looking For An Exit. Back in the mid-1990s, he made beautiful, literate, Burt Bacharach-styled pop music, first with Cardinal and then on his own, giving the indie-rock world two sophisticated, classy albums, The Lateness of the Hour and It's Heavy In Here. He got smart listeners all turned on, he was deemed classy by tastemakers like Spin and Details, and then...he disappeared, quickly forgotten by the indie-rock world. For those who knew of him, his disappearance has been considered nothing less than tragic, and his loyal fanbase would always ask the eternal "when the hell are you going to make your own album, Eric?" whenever his name appeared on records by other bands.
Despite the awkward title, his music is still undeniably smooth and his croon is still very much intact, but a few things are different this time around. Instead of gorgeous, baroque pop found on his previous outings, almost all of the songs on Six Kinds of Passion Looking For An Exit are very minimal in their arrangement, and instead of gorgeous, perfect three minutes pop compositions, four of the seven songs found here stretch past the five minute mark. Matthews, like later-period Talk Talk or Scott Walker, seems more interested in stretching the boundaries of pop music than building upon his excellent reputation, and on first listen, it is indeed a bit of a shock, especially if you were expecting The Lateness Of The Hour part two.
Which, of course, does nothing to tarnish the simple fact that Matthews has once again created an excellent record. As scant as Six Kinds of Passion Looking For An Exit may be--seven songs in barely a half-hour--he never wastes a second. Matthews seems to be more inclined to minimalistic jazz-tinted pop that's somewhat folk in nature a la Scott Walker--and, as heard on "So Overblown" and "Cardinal in Love"-- he can make a simple arrangement of piano, guitar, trumpet and voice sound like a full orchestra. On more upbeat numbers, such as "So You Really Want It" and " Black In Light Brown," he returns to past glories, even though these moments are mere passing glimpes in comparison to his more sophisticated, darker style. (It's should come as no surprise, then, that these moments that are more reminiscent of his past are also the shortest songs on the record.)
Will the world understand and appreciate? Probably not. Matthews has been gone too long, and many of the sophisticated minds that appreciated him long ago have since replaced their Matthews love for less cerebral things. A shame, that--but that's okay, because Matthews isn't trying to build on his past glories; like all great artists, he's more interested in looking ahead, and if that means stripped-down, six minute pop epics sung with a sexy croon and very little else, then so be it. Six Kinds Of Passion Looking For An Exit might not be a "comeback" record, but it's a welcome return to form for a terribly underrated (and sophisticated) artist, gone far too long.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.ericmatthewsmusic.com
Label Website: http://www.empyreanrecords.com
Despite the awkward title, his music is still undeniably smooth and his croon is still very much intact, but a few things are different this time around. Instead of gorgeous, baroque pop found on his previous outings, almost all of the songs on Six Kinds of Passion Looking For An Exit are very minimal in their arrangement, and instead of gorgeous, perfect three minutes pop compositions, four of the seven songs found here stretch past the five minute mark. Matthews, like later-period Talk Talk or Scott Walker, seems more interested in stretching the boundaries of pop music than building upon his excellent reputation, and on first listen, it is indeed a bit of a shock, especially if you were expecting The Lateness Of The Hour part two.
Which, of course, does nothing to tarnish the simple fact that Matthews has once again created an excellent record. As scant as Six Kinds of Passion Looking For An Exit may be--seven songs in barely a half-hour--he never wastes a second. Matthews seems to be more inclined to minimalistic jazz-tinted pop that's somewhat folk in nature a la Scott Walker--and, as heard on "So Overblown" and "Cardinal in Love"-- he can make a simple arrangement of piano, guitar, trumpet and voice sound like a full orchestra. On more upbeat numbers, such as "So You Really Want It" and " Black In Light Brown," he returns to past glories, even though these moments are mere passing glimpes in comparison to his more sophisticated, darker style. (It's should come as no surprise, then, that these moments that are more reminiscent of his past are also the shortest songs on the record.)
Will the world understand and appreciate? Probably not. Matthews has been gone too long, and many of the sophisticated minds that appreciated him long ago have since replaced their Matthews love for less cerebral things. A shame, that--but that's okay, because Matthews isn't trying to build on his past glories; like all great artists, he's more interested in looking ahead, and if that means stripped-down, six minute pop epics sung with a sexy croon and very little else, then so be it. Six Kinds Of Passion Looking For An Exit might not be a "comeback" record, but it's a welcome return to form for a terribly underrated (and sophisticated) artist, gone far too long.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.ericmatthewsmusic.com
Label Website: http://www.empyreanrecords.com
March 04, 2005
Low Skies "I Have Been to Beautiful Places"
It's a deep, dark and dirty soulful growl you'll hear on I Have Been to Beautiful Places, the debut EP by Chicago's The Low Skies. Over an accompaniment that's bluesy but never blue, this five piece make moody rock that's bleak and depressing. Lead singer Chris Salveter occasionally sounds like a mix of Tom Waits, Jeff Buckley and Anthony Kiedes, making for a oddly compelling listen. The music's bleak but hopeful; on songs like "Pull It Over" and "New Deal," you aren't overwhelmed by any kind of negative emotions inasmuch as you are given the experience of hearing a man in pain sing his emotions. The winning tracks are the closing one-two punch of "Ready to be Done" and "Funeral Pew," which finds Mr. Lead Singer giving his heart out for all to see, and he does a good job of convincing you of his power as a singer, because you're instantly drawn in. My only advice would be to vary up the tempo between songs, because staying at the same pace for more than five songs could get rather boring rather fast.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.lowskies.com
Label Website: http://www.flameshovel.com
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.lowskies.com
Label Website: http://www.flameshovel.com
The Flatmates "Love & Death"
One of the nicer benefits with the falling costs of CD reproduction is the rescue and reissue of really good, obscure bands. As the market's never going to be overwhelmed by a desire for a long-lost indie-pop bands from the mid 1980s, but thankfully some people are willing to pony up the cash to save their favorites from the dustbin of forgotten and the unfortunately obscure. That's true with Clairecords' latest salvage job, a reissue of The Flatmates' definitive collection, Love and Death. This British group, led by the seductive pop mistress Deb Haynes, were a definitive act on the fledgling indiepop scene of the mid-to-late 1980s, releasing a slew of singles during their brief career.
Love And Death was their singles compilation AND their sole album release. From the first listen, it's easy to understand why someone would want to release this record--it's simply good. The band has a fun, frantic beat; it's kinda pop, kinda mod, too; if you've wondered about the inspiration for bands like Boyracer, Henry's Dress, Heavenly or the entire damn K Records roster circa 1990, then you'll find all your answers here. (I also hear a bit of Stone Roses in here, too, but let's not confuse the issue, shall we?) It's obvious that these lads and lassies were quite influential on those who heard them way back when, and there's no reason why a newer generation shouldn't be allowed that honor today.
Arranged somewhat chronologically, Love And Death finds a band going from pensive pop amateurs whose innocent charm makes up for their inexperience ("I Could Be In Heaven," "So In Love In You") to a strong, confident band of pop stars who can write their way around a great, grooving melody ("Shimmer," "On My Mind"). As with many indiepop bands of this era, part of their charm was watching them grow up and mature over the course of seven inch singles and mini-albums. It was a mentality that produced a "sure, that band might not be genius now, but wait a little while" attitude that was healthy and encouraging.
Let's face it--some of these songs are just damn good, regardless of all that other stuff I've written; this record's worth it for the one-two-three punch of later year recordings "Heaven Knows," "Don't Say If" and "This Thing Called Love"--all three excellent examples of great songwriting performed by a red-hot pop band. Haynes' voice has a punch that goes straight to the heart; husky but not too butch; occasionally she sounds like a less gothic Siouxsie Sioux, but that's a good thing in my book. ("This Thing Called Love," a cover of Pauline Murray's solo hit, is one of the best love songs of the 1980s, PERIOD, and I've listened to it 234523 times on repeat, it's that good, it's that obsession-inducing.)
The only minor quibble is the relative lack of notes about the songs or a history of the band, but that's just me--and you'll find plenty of info at their website, too. Still, Love & Death is a welcome reissue of a band who never got the respect or attention they deserved--until now.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.theflatmates.com
Label Website: http://www.tonevendor.com
Love And Death was their singles compilation AND their sole album release. From the first listen, it's easy to understand why someone would want to release this record--it's simply good. The band has a fun, frantic beat; it's kinda pop, kinda mod, too; if you've wondered about the inspiration for bands like Boyracer, Henry's Dress, Heavenly or the entire damn K Records roster circa 1990, then you'll find all your answers here. (I also hear a bit of Stone Roses in here, too, but let's not confuse the issue, shall we?) It's obvious that these lads and lassies were quite influential on those who heard them way back when, and there's no reason why a newer generation shouldn't be allowed that honor today.
Arranged somewhat chronologically, Love And Death finds a band going from pensive pop amateurs whose innocent charm makes up for their inexperience ("I Could Be In Heaven," "So In Love In You") to a strong, confident band of pop stars who can write their way around a great, grooving melody ("Shimmer," "On My Mind"). As with many indiepop bands of this era, part of their charm was watching them grow up and mature over the course of seven inch singles and mini-albums. It was a mentality that produced a "sure, that band might not be genius now, but wait a little while" attitude that was healthy and encouraging.
Let's face it--some of these songs are just damn good, regardless of all that other stuff I've written; this record's worth it for the one-two-three punch of later year recordings "Heaven Knows," "Don't Say If" and "This Thing Called Love"--all three excellent examples of great songwriting performed by a red-hot pop band. Haynes' voice has a punch that goes straight to the heart; husky but not too butch; occasionally she sounds like a less gothic Siouxsie Sioux, but that's a good thing in my book. ("This Thing Called Love," a cover of Pauline Murray's solo hit, is one of the best love songs of the 1980s, PERIOD, and I've listened to it 234523 times on repeat, it's that good, it's that obsession-inducing.)
The only minor quibble is the relative lack of notes about the songs or a history of the band, but that's just me--and you'll find plenty of info at their website, too. Still, Love & Death is a welcome reissue of a band who never got the respect or attention they deserved--until now.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.theflatmates.com
Label Website: http://www.tonevendor.com
My Morning Jacket "Chapter One:The Sandman Cometh" & "Chapter Two: Learning"
My Morning Jacket's rise from some long-haired Lexington dudes making records in their barn to one of today's premier live rock bands has been nothing if not astounding. When they released The Tennessee Fire and At Dawn--both good records that were drowned in reverb and cough-syrup--it didn't really seem as if they were poised for anything more than cult status. Who knew they'd get a big record deal, widespread mainstream acclaim and a wonderfully beautiful, polished-up record like It Still Moves? It couldn't have happened to a better band, though.
Their former label, Darla Records, boasts that there are hours of My Morning Jacket outtakes in their vaults, and these two records, entitled Chapter 1: The Sandman Cometh and Chapter 2: Learning are two forays into those vaults. Consisting of "Early Recordings, B-Sides, Covers y Mas," these two volumes cover a lot of sonic ground from Jim James' formidable years--and, like many young musicians, that means one thing: cover songs! Between the two discs, you'll find covers of Eryka Badu ("Tyrone"), Jefferson Airplane ("White Rabbit") Pet Shop Boys ("West End Girls"), Elton John ("Rocket Man"), Hank Williams ("Why Don't You Love Me Like You Used To Do?"), Santo & Johnny ("Sleepwalking") and Berlin ("Take My Breath Away"--complete with samples from the movie Top Gun!) But what's even more obvious is the seriousness with which they cover them. True, it might seem funny to cover the love song from Top Gun, but they do so with reverence, and the result is a version that's almost better than the original.
It's fascinating to listen to some of these early songs, because it allows you to see the magic that often gets lost underneath the hair and the reverb.Most of the material on these two records avoid the overt rock sounds of later works, and you can't help but feel as if the rest of the band--all fine musicians--weren't that important in the early days. Instead of the long jams that have come to dominate their albums, many of these songs are brief, two or three minute numbers. Demo versions of later songs might be stripped down, but they're much stronger that way. James yelps like the eternal bluesman on "Death Is The Easy Way," making the song even more harrowing and pathetic. The radio version of "Bermuda Highway" is even more touching and powerful and the live song "Old Sept. Blues" (with its introduction taken from "Sleepwalk" by Santo & Johny) is a heartbreakingly beautiful live recording. There are some real weepers here, too, such as "I Won't Cry" and "Evelyn," which find James mending his broken heart through song.
As one would expect, these two discs are not without lesser moments; as such, It's best to remember that these records serve more as a gift for the hardcore fans than as an introduction for the unfamiliar. These are baby pictures of the band's early years, of course, and so not everything works. Some songs feel unfinished; some ideas don't quite work, and some songs just aren't very good. That danger comes hand-in-hand with a project like this, and luckily those weaker moments really do nothing to detracts from My Morning Jacket's greatness. As both discs have a great deal of excellent material, there's no need to fear being short-changed. The best bet is to simply listen to both discs and make a compilation of your favorite moments or set both discs in a muti-disc player and hit random.
My Morning Jacket's a great rock band, period. These early, baby-step snapshots of the young group provide for a fascinating listen. While these "early year" collections might not prove to be the best starting place for new fans (I recommend their most recent album, the wonderful It Still Moves), they're certainly a welcome gift for My Morning Jacket fans. Perhaps these two discs are the first two offerings in a series of early and rare recordings; a third chapter--a reissue of the bonus disc of demos & outtakes that came with the first pressing of At Dawn-- is slated for release this year. (Might I make a suggestion/request? A collection of live and radio recordings would serve them well; the KVRX broadcast--from which "Bermuda Highway" is taken--is a gorgeous set that deserves to be heard.)
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.mymorningjacket.com
Label Website: http://www.darla.com
Their former label, Darla Records, boasts that there are hours of My Morning Jacket outtakes in their vaults, and these two records, entitled Chapter 1: The Sandman Cometh and Chapter 2: Learning are two forays into those vaults. Consisting of "Early Recordings, B-Sides, Covers y Mas," these two volumes cover a lot of sonic ground from Jim James' formidable years--and, like many young musicians, that means one thing: cover songs! Between the two discs, you'll find covers of Eryka Badu ("Tyrone"), Jefferson Airplane ("White Rabbit") Pet Shop Boys ("West End Girls"), Elton John ("Rocket Man"), Hank Williams ("Why Don't You Love Me Like You Used To Do?"), Santo & Johnny ("Sleepwalking") and Berlin ("Take My Breath Away"--complete with samples from the movie Top Gun!) But what's even more obvious is the seriousness with which they cover them. True, it might seem funny to cover the love song from Top Gun, but they do so with reverence, and the result is a version that's almost better than the original.
It's fascinating to listen to some of these early songs, because it allows you to see the magic that often gets lost underneath the hair and the reverb.Most of the material on these two records avoid the overt rock sounds of later works, and you can't help but feel as if the rest of the band--all fine musicians--weren't that important in the early days. Instead of the long jams that have come to dominate their albums, many of these songs are brief, two or three minute numbers. Demo versions of later songs might be stripped down, but they're much stronger that way. James yelps like the eternal bluesman on "Death Is The Easy Way," making the song even more harrowing and pathetic. The radio version of "Bermuda Highway" is even more touching and powerful and the live song "Old Sept. Blues" (with its introduction taken from "Sleepwalk" by Santo & Johny) is a heartbreakingly beautiful live recording. There are some real weepers here, too, such as "I Won't Cry" and "Evelyn," which find James mending his broken heart through song.
As one would expect, these two discs are not without lesser moments; as such, It's best to remember that these records serve more as a gift for the hardcore fans than as an introduction for the unfamiliar. These are baby pictures of the band's early years, of course, and so not everything works. Some songs feel unfinished; some ideas don't quite work, and some songs just aren't very good. That danger comes hand-in-hand with a project like this, and luckily those weaker moments really do nothing to detracts from My Morning Jacket's greatness. As both discs have a great deal of excellent material, there's no need to fear being short-changed. The best bet is to simply listen to both discs and make a compilation of your favorite moments or set both discs in a muti-disc player and hit random.
My Morning Jacket's a great rock band, period. These early, baby-step snapshots of the young group provide for a fascinating listen. While these "early year" collections might not prove to be the best starting place for new fans (I recommend their most recent album, the wonderful It Still Moves), they're certainly a welcome gift for My Morning Jacket fans. Perhaps these two discs are the first two offerings in a series of early and rare recordings; a third chapter--a reissue of the bonus disc of demos & outtakes that came with the first pressing of At Dawn-- is slated for release this year. (Might I make a suggestion/request? A collection of live and radio recordings would serve them well; the KVRX broadcast--from which "Bermuda Highway" is taken--is a gorgeous set that deserves to be heard.)
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.mymorningjacket.com
Label Website: http://www.darla.com
March 03, 2005
Pipas "Chunnel Autumnal"
Back in 2001, the pop-loving duo of Lupe Nunez-Fernandez and Mark Powell quietly released their debut record, a ten-inch vinyl mini-album entitled Chunnel Autumnal. For the few who heard this record, it was an instant love connection. The duo’s songs were downbeat enough to be blue, but were frantic and catchy enough to stick in your heart. Short, concise and succinct, these songs would be a hint of what was to come with their debut album, A Cat Escaped--which found them running through ten songs in twenty minutes. Thankfully, Matinee has decided to reissue this brilliant little record, allowing fans like you to hear what the fuss was about way back when, while also collectors like me to enjoy these songs in all their glory, without having to fear scratching their vinyl copy.
While their sound has remained the same, Chunnel Autumnal is very much a baby-steps record. Their sound had yet to gain the caffeinated groove-based energy of A Cat Escaped, but their pop skills were definitely on the increase, as the excellent “Wells Street,” “Tout Va Bien” and “Bye Bye” were instant standouts, with lovely singing, plenty of ba-ba-ba’s and tons of indie-pop sweetness. To make this record even more essential, Matinee’s added three additional songs, the wonderful “A Short Film about Sleeping” 7” debut.
If you like your pop music hyper and sweet and a little blue but not too much, then Pipas has been waiting for you. You might have missed Chunnel Autumnal the first time around, but there’s no excuse now for missing out on what these two have to offer!
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.plumasbouncer.com/llc/band/pipas
Label Website: http://www.indiepages.com/matinee
While their sound has remained the same, Chunnel Autumnal is very much a baby-steps record. Their sound had yet to gain the caffeinated groove-based energy of A Cat Escaped, but their pop skills were definitely on the increase, as the excellent “Wells Street,” “Tout Va Bien” and “Bye Bye” were instant standouts, with lovely singing, plenty of ba-ba-ba’s and tons of indie-pop sweetness. To make this record even more essential, Matinee’s added three additional songs, the wonderful “A Short Film about Sleeping” 7” debut.
If you like your pop music hyper and sweet and a little blue but not too much, then Pipas has been waiting for you. You might have missed Chunnel Autumnal the first time around, but there’s no excuse now for missing out on what these two have to offer!
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.plumasbouncer.com/llc/band/pipas
Label Website: http://www.indiepages.com/matinee
Audbile "Sky Signal"
Formed by ex-members of Matt Pond PA, Audible has seemingly appeared out of nowhere and now presents the world with a stunningly beautiful debut record, Sky Signal. Ostensibly, the band was nothing more than a solo side project of Mike Kennedy, drummer for several different bands. After playing several well-received shows, he added longtime friend Jim Kehoe as a guitarist. Both men joined Matt Pond PA, and Audible returned to the back burner. And though it must have sucked at the time, their tenure in Matt Pond PA didn’t last, and thankfully they decided to revive Audible, expanding it to a full band and making it an active recording and touring project
Sky Signal is a quiet killer, and as a band, Audible can do no wrong. With a pace that’s both driving and mellow, they exude coolness with every song. Their rhythms may often remind you of Spoon, a mellower, less intense version of The Cars and a more countrified Weezer, but their heart is pure pop. It’s obvious from the first moments of “October Song” that Audible is a rather special band. Rhythms are catchy and groove-oriented; the pianos and guitars and percussion—all of these are mixed to perfection, creating a pristine sound that plays well next do Kennedy’s beautiful voice—which is already quite perfect—which is often accentuated gorgeously with female voices, provided by Mary Garito and Kristine Muller.
It’s his voice, though, that will win you over. With all the charm of a soft, fluffy kitten, Kennedy’s a wistful, intelligent singer who has a very keen sense of melody and an even sharper sense of harmony. Blended over the band’s gentle songs—the music is quite simple and almost too subtle for its own good—the combination produces songs that are dreamy and memorable, while being extremely low-key. “From The Third Floor” starts off quite downcast, and you might not think it registers with you on first listen, but after it finishes, you’ll find yourself humming the melody all day long. Same thing with “Sunday Bell” and “Motorcycle,” all sung with Kennedy’s gorgeous croon and made even better by the band’s accompaniment.
Sky Signal is a warm, glowing debut. It’s perfect ‘mood’ music; it’s mellow enough to make you relax, but it’s upbeat enough to get you excited about life and romantic enough to be tender and gentle for those moments when you need the mood to be tender and gentle. 2005 could (and should) be Audible’s year.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.audibleband.com
Label Website: http://www.polyvinylrecords.com
Sky Signal is a quiet killer, and as a band, Audible can do no wrong. With a pace that’s both driving and mellow, they exude coolness with every song. Their rhythms may often remind you of Spoon, a mellower, less intense version of The Cars and a more countrified Weezer, but their heart is pure pop. It’s obvious from the first moments of “October Song” that Audible is a rather special band. Rhythms are catchy and groove-oriented; the pianos and guitars and percussion—all of these are mixed to perfection, creating a pristine sound that plays well next do Kennedy’s beautiful voice—which is already quite perfect—which is often accentuated gorgeously with female voices, provided by Mary Garito and Kristine Muller.
It’s his voice, though, that will win you over. With all the charm of a soft, fluffy kitten, Kennedy’s a wistful, intelligent singer who has a very keen sense of melody and an even sharper sense of harmony. Blended over the band’s gentle songs—the music is quite simple and almost too subtle for its own good—the combination produces songs that are dreamy and memorable, while being extremely low-key. “From The Third Floor” starts off quite downcast, and you might not think it registers with you on first listen, but after it finishes, you’ll find yourself humming the melody all day long. Same thing with “Sunday Bell” and “Motorcycle,” all sung with Kennedy’s gorgeous croon and made even better by the band’s accompaniment.
Sky Signal is a warm, glowing debut. It’s perfect ‘mood’ music; it’s mellow enough to make you relax, but it’s upbeat enough to get you excited about life and romantic enough to be tender and gentle for those moments when you need the mood to be tender and gentle. 2005 could (and should) be Audible’s year.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.audibleband.com
Label Website: http://www.polyvinylrecords.com
March 02, 2005
Sukilove "You Kill Me"
Sometimes, changing your sound only requires working with a producer. That’s certainly the case with Sukilove’s third album, You Kill Me. Sukilove, the moniker for Belgian musician Pascal Deweze, has released two records of country-tinged indie-pop; both were good records, but compared to the explosion of sound found on You Kill Me it’s obvious that Deweze had yet to realize his full potential. Enlisting the help of John Morand (producer of such distinctive acts as Cracker, Camper Van Beethoven and Sparklehorse) has seemingly broken the indie-pop country melancholia heard on his previous album, Sukilove or his debut Talking In The Dark. In fact, listening to either of those two records simultaneously with You Kill Me might be a bit confusing, because Sukilove’s new rock direction is quite different than anything Deweze has done in the past.
With a toughened-up style, Sukilove’s reinvention is positively inspired. Deweze is in fine voice; he sings with raw emotion that has a certain power not found in his other releases. While occasionally the gentle side of Sukilove past does make an appearance (“I Didn’t Mean It That Way”), for the most part, Deweze is living out his rock and roll fantasies. “1234” sounds like a contemporary of The Hellacopters and The Soundtrack of our Lives, and then there’s the insane power blast of “Secrets.” Sukilove finally sounds like a band and not merely the realization of one man’s musical ideas.
Don’t think for a moment, though, that this new found rock and roll fantasy is at the expense of his tunefulness, because that’s not the case. He’s still a literate pop composer, and just because he’s turned up the rock doesn’t mean he’s dumbed down the message. Just listen to the title track; it’s a slinky, sneaky blues-rock number, but it’s also quite a powerful little song about love, about empowering himself after being broken by a woman who’s torn his heart up in twenty places, one who he is inexplicably drawn to, even though he knows better. “You can’t treat me you always do/I’ll always be a fool for you,” he sings in a powerful yell not seen since John Lennon’s “Cold Turkey.”
Indeed, he can still write an engaging melody; all of the songs on You Kill Me are instantly catchy. The title You Kill Me reminds more of a friendly proclamation of greatness than it does a murderous threat, and it’s certainly a perfect description for Sukilove’s new direction.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.sukilove.com
Label Website: http://www.parasol.com
With a toughened-up style, Sukilove’s reinvention is positively inspired. Deweze is in fine voice; he sings with raw emotion that has a certain power not found in his other releases. While occasionally the gentle side of Sukilove past does make an appearance (“I Didn’t Mean It That Way”), for the most part, Deweze is living out his rock and roll fantasies. “1234” sounds like a contemporary of The Hellacopters and The Soundtrack of our Lives, and then there’s the insane power blast of “Secrets.” Sukilove finally sounds like a band and not merely the realization of one man’s musical ideas.
Don’t think for a moment, though, that this new found rock and roll fantasy is at the expense of his tunefulness, because that’s not the case. He’s still a literate pop composer, and just because he’s turned up the rock doesn’t mean he’s dumbed down the message. Just listen to the title track; it’s a slinky, sneaky blues-rock number, but it’s also quite a powerful little song about love, about empowering himself after being broken by a woman who’s torn his heart up in twenty places, one who he is inexplicably drawn to, even though he knows better. “You can’t treat me you always do/I’ll always be a fool for you,” he sings in a powerful yell not seen since John Lennon’s “Cold Turkey.”
Indeed, he can still write an engaging melody; all of the songs on You Kill Me are instantly catchy. The title You Kill Me reminds more of a friendly proclamation of greatness than it does a murderous threat, and it’s certainly a perfect description for Sukilove’s new direction.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.sukilove.com
Label Website: http://www.parasol.com
The 101 "Green Street"
Eric Richter has fronted some pretty awesome bands. His first group, Christie Front Drive, have become well-respected in the years since their quiet demise, and during their lifetime they were the inspiration for a young Jimmy Eat World (which might not mean much to you, dear readers, but work with me here). They broke up, and Richter went on to form Antartica, which rejected anything and everything ‘rock’ minded for a cold, distant electronica that owed a great deal to Aphex Twin, New Order and that whole ‘post-punk’ era of the early 1980s. His new project, The 101, continues the trend of being absolutely different than everything that came before it; having released a too-brief EP that hinted at good things to come, Green Street delivers on that record’s promise…and then some.
Suffice to say, this new style sounds a lot like REM. It sounds like REM a lot. That’s not a bad thing, though, because Richter and company are accomplished, talented musicians, and their rough jangle doesn’t sound derivative at all. Sure, songs like “Wife” and “Verve” might sound a little too much like vintage Michael Stipe, but if there’s anything positive to be said about that is that it’s good that people recognize the brilliance of early REM. The 101’s have a really good understanding of REM’s secret formula, and an even better concept of what makes a great-sounding song.
The only complaint, though, is the occasional tendency of the band to go for a ‘modern rock’ style. “Left On” sounds a little too much like REM-meets-EMO for my taste. “Never In” initially sounds like a rejected outtake from The OC and “Generals” blends the occasionally annoying modern-rock style that pops up here and there with Antartica’s cold, electronic heartbeat. Maybe that’s just the Christie Front Drive influence coming out, though. It’s only a minor quibble, though, because Green Street is a surprisingly good record. Give these guys a spin and you’ll be impressed with what you hear.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.limekilnrecords.com
Artist Website: http://www.the101.net
Suffice to say, this new style sounds a lot like REM. It sounds like REM a lot. That’s not a bad thing, though, because Richter and company are accomplished, talented musicians, and their rough jangle doesn’t sound derivative at all. Sure, songs like “Wife” and “Verve” might sound a little too much like vintage Michael Stipe, but if there’s anything positive to be said about that is that it’s good that people recognize the brilliance of early REM. The 101’s have a really good understanding of REM’s secret formula, and an even better concept of what makes a great-sounding song.
The only complaint, though, is the occasional tendency of the band to go for a ‘modern rock’ style. “Left On” sounds a little too much like REM-meets-EMO for my taste. “Never In” initially sounds like a rejected outtake from The OC and “Generals” blends the occasionally annoying modern-rock style that pops up here and there with Antartica’s cold, electronic heartbeat. Maybe that’s just the Christie Front Drive influence coming out, though. It’s only a minor quibble, though, because Green Street is a surprisingly good record. Give these guys a spin and you’ll be impressed with what you hear.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.limekilnrecords.com
Artist Website: http://www.the101.net
Thievery Corporation "The Cosmic Game"
Rob Garza and Eric Hilton, the DC-based duo who comprise Thievery Corporation, know a few things about making mellow, exotic lounge-minded electronica. Not only have they been releasing music together for nearly a decade, but they’ve also been the masterminds behind Eighteenth Street Lounge, an exotic club that not only defines the word ‘cool,’ but also serves as the ideal setting for Thievery Corporation’s music—cool, suave, sexy and cosmopolitan. That they were initially courted by legendary British label 4AD and have made themselves household names (in hip, club-loving houses, that is) is no surprise. The relative success of their previous album, The Richest Man in Babylon wasn’t much of a surprise, either.
One might wonder, then, what Garza and Hilton should do next. As they’ve never drastically changed their style, they do run the risk of making a record that simply carries on their formula, and that is exactly what they’ve done. That’s not meant to dismiss their abilities, and it’s certainly not meant to dismiss The Cosmic Game, because it’s easily the best Thievery Corporation record to date. Their groove is still international—mixing Afro-Cuban, Latin and European rhythms together quite nicely, and they still do a good job of making a “one world”-minded record out of so many styles, as they never allow themselves to become indebted to one particular genre. Songs like “The Time We Lost Our Way” and “Shiva” will take you to the Orient and “Ambicion Eterna” and “Amerimacka” will bring you right back, without ever losing the sensual beat or negating the Thievery Corporation’s vast arsenal of singers.
The Cosmic Game is enhanced by the use of several vocalists. Some of the singers (like Notch and Loulou) are regulars from past Thievery Corporation records, but some of the names are much more familiar. The opening song, “Marching the Hate Machines (Into the Sun)” features a guest performance from The Flaming Lips. It takes the stoned out moments of The Soft Parade into a new direction; on first listen, Wayne Coyne’s vocals don’t seem to fit into the Thievery Corporation’s groove, and the match-up seems a bit awkward. Who isn’t awkward with the duo’s groove, though, is Jane’s Addiction mastermind Perry Farrell who, on “Revolution Solution,” sounds unusually sedate in front of such a deep, tribal beat. The same can be said of David Byrne, who appears on “The Heart’s A Lonely Hunter,” happily taking the lead on the gorgeous samba beat that’s not unlike his classic “(Nothing But) Flowers.”
The Cosmic Game finds Thievery Corporation at the top of their game. Garza and Hilton continue to make sophisticated music for a smart generation, and if their aim is to chill out the world, then that’s exactly what they’ve accomplished; they’ve made a record which embodies everything that’s good about music that’s easily enjoyed by the most—and least—musically sophisticated listener.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.eslmusic.com
One might wonder, then, what Garza and Hilton should do next. As they’ve never drastically changed their style, they do run the risk of making a record that simply carries on their formula, and that is exactly what they’ve done. That’s not meant to dismiss their abilities, and it’s certainly not meant to dismiss The Cosmic Game, because it’s easily the best Thievery Corporation record to date. Their groove is still international—mixing Afro-Cuban, Latin and European rhythms together quite nicely, and they still do a good job of making a “one world”-minded record out of so many styles, as they never allow themselves to become indebted to one particular genre. Songs like “The Time We Lost Our Way” and “Shiva” will take you to the Orient and “Ambicion Eterna” and “Amerimacka” will bring you right back, without ever losing the sensual beat or negating the Thievery Corporation’s vast arsenal of singers.
The Cosmic Game is enhanced by the use of several vocalists. Some of the singers (like Notch and Loulou) are regulars from past Thievery Corporation records, but some of the names are much more familiar. The opening song, “Marching the Hate Machines (Into the Sun)” features a guest performance from The Flaming Lips. It takes the stoned out moments of The Soft Parade into a new direction; on first listen, Wayne Coyne’s vocals don’t seem to fit into the Thievery Corporation’s groove, and the match-up seems a bit awkward. Who isn’t awkward with the duo’s groove, though, is Jane’s Addiction mastermind Perry Farrell who, on “Revolution Solution,” sounds unusually sedate in front of such a deep, tribal beat. The same can be said of David Byrne, who appears on “The Heart’s A Lonely Hunter,” happily taking the lead on the gorgeous samba beat that’s not unlike his classic “(Nothing But) Flowers.”
The Cosmic Game finds Thievery Corporation at the top of their game. Garza and Hilton continue to make sophisticated music for a smart generation, and if their aim is to chill out the world, then that’s exactly what they’ve accomplished; they’ve made a record which embodies everything that’s good about music that’s easily enjoyed by the most—and least—musically sophisticated listener.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.eslmusic.com
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