Technology sometimes sucks ass. Experience a computer meltdown that results in losing two weeks' worth of work and you'll want to incur some violence on your friendly CPU. Thankfully, Agape's one-man ne'er-do-well Ryan Powers knows exactly the source of my frustration and recreated the sound of mechanical destruction. Using synths and guitars and his screaming voice and all kinds of god-knows-what-else, Powers has taken his rage against the machines to the logical conclusion of synth-crazed screamo, creating a record that's angry and rhythmic at the same time, and though it sounds Industrial, I'm more akin to calling Agape's style anti-Industrial because it simply seems to wish nothing but destruction on any and all computer technology, and, if anything, Agape sounds like a musical snuff film.
The songs on Agape flow together seamlessly, as if a mega-medley of post-apocalyptic synth-punk dance hits. Song titles, while cute (like "In Love with Technology," and "Keep This Dance A Secret), seem utterly irrelevent, as the formula from song to song proves exactly the same: loud synths, louder screaming and an anti-rhythm which will make you dance while the computers burn. If you ever wished the Locust were louder and the Faint had more groove or Fantomas were a little more angry, then Agape will fill your angry-at-technology heart with beaucoups of unconditional love.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.agape-technology.com
August 31, 2005
Joan of Arc "Presents Guitar Duets"
Joan of Arc reminds me of a child prodigy with no people skills: brilliant in its existence, but utterly frustrating to deal with on a person-to-person label. For fans of Joan of Arc, it's been this way for a while; after all, this is the band that followed up three beautiful albums with The Gap, not only their worst record, but one of the worst records of the last ten years, which they followed with a break-up which they then followed with a new band and an excellent record which then promptly broke up, followed by another band followed by a reunion followed by more excellent records followed by not-so-good records followed by another awesome band....see where this is going?
Be that as it may, the world around Tim Kinsella is always going to be experimental. That's certainly true with their new album, Joan of Arc Presents Guitar Duets. It's not your typical Joan of Arc record, but it's very much a Joan of Arc record, because it's not what you'd expect from them, but because of that, it's exactly what you'd expect from a Joan of Arc record. Here's the story, and it's kinda cool: Kinsella gathered up all of Joan of Arc's guitarists, past and present. He had them write their names on a piece of paper, and after each guitarist drew a name, they then had to compose and record a guitar duet. (Let's not get into the frustration of how they chose to title the songs--opting for pictures of the two guitarists as opposed to actual titles.)
The nice thing about an instrumental Joan of Arc record is that it highlights the band's beautiful side--one that's often lost underneath oblique lyrics and studio wankery. The ten selections found here range from simple John Fahey-style guitar picking ("Song One") to complex, spaced out numbers reminiscent of Brian Eno ("Song Three"). Sometimes, a glimpse of what you might expect from Joan of Arc can be heard ("Song Four" and "Song Eight"), but other moments, like "Song Seven," are grand epics of noise and drone that sound like something you'd expect from Charalambides. But songs don't get more beautiful than "Song Nine"--which is a breathtaking eight-minute epic of ambient guitar--and "Song Ten" closes the album with a quaint, home-spun country guitar-pickin' session that's quite lovely.
Expect the unexpected from Joan of Arc? Par for the course. Expect beautiful records from Joan of Arc? A hit-or-miss affair, but when they hit the nail on the head, the results are amazing. Joan of Arc Presents Guitar Duets is not your typical Joan of Arc record. Thank God for that.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.recordlabelrecordlabel.com
Be that as it may, the world around Tim Kinsella is always going to be experimental. That's certainly true with their new album, Joan of Arc Presents Guitar Duets. It's not your typical Joan of Arc record, but it's very much a Joan of Arc record, because it's not what you'd expect from them, but because of that, it's exactly what you'd expect from a Joan of Arc record. Here's the story, and it's kinda cool: Kinsella gathered up all of Joan of Arc's guitarists, past and present. He had them write their names on a piece of paper, and after each guitarist drew a name, they then had to compose and record a guitar duet. (Let's not get into the frustration of how they chose to title the songs--opting for pictures of the two guitarists as opposed to actual titles.)
The nice thing about an instrumental Joan of Arc record is that it highlights the band's beautiful side--one that's often lost underneath oblique lyrics and studio wankery. The ten selections found here range from simple John Fahey-style guitar picking ("Song One") to complex, spaced out numbers reminiscent of Brian Eno ("Song Three"). Sometimes, a glimpse of what you might expect from Joan of Arc can be heard ("Song Four" and "Song Eight"), but other moments, like "Song Seven," are grand epics of noise and drone that sound like something you'd expect from Charalambides. But songs don't get more beautiful than "Song Nine"--which is a breathtaking eight-minute epic of ambient guitar--and "Song Ten" closes the album with a quaint, home-spun country guitar-pickin' session that's quite lovely.
Expect the unexpected from Joan of Arc? Par for the course. Expect beautiful records from Joan of Arc? A hit-or-miss affair, but when they hit the nail on the head, the results are amazing. Joan of Arc Presents Guitar Duets is not your typical Joan of Arc record. Thank God for that.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.recordlabelrecordlabel.com
August 29, 2005
Joan of Arc/Owen/Love of Everything/Make Believe "The Association of Utopian Hologram Swallowers"
As Joan of Arc embarks on its second decade, Joan of Arc's ethic has changed; instead of feeling like a solid band, it's seemingly mutated into a collective of talented minds. Experimentation has always been par for the course, with alter-egos, alternate band names and records that challenge and frustrate litter this group's discography. Some of these diversions have been quite excellent, while some of them...not so good. Their music has always been somewhat of an acquired taste, but you can't accuse Joan of Arc of being intellectually lazy. But when you consider Joan of Arc circa 2005, what you find is quite interesting: their most recent album, Joan Of Arc Presents Guitar Duets is a collection of improvised guitar duets; last year they formed an overdub-free band, Make Believe, that's basically Joan of Arc with a different name and less stigma, and two members have solo projects that circle around Joan of Arc's sphere of influence. To say that Joan of Arc should still be considered as Tim Kinsella's project is a bit disingenious, because there's plenty of talent in his band, and he's not the only talented Kinsella, either.
It's with the spirit of higlighting the groups many talents that they've released a double-seven inch EP, The Association of Utopian Hologram Swallowers. Each band is granted a different side, allowing--if ever so briefly--the ability for each musicial outlet to express its brilliance. The Love of Everything presents two quirky,cute indie-pop numbers, "Keep Off of Me" and "Proud by Looking Around," which are charming if you enjoy smart music sung by an occasionally off-key singer. It's easy to hear the Joan of Arc influence, especially in Bobby Berg's singing. Unlike previous records, Berg focused on the songwriting and produced two really great songs. Joan of Arc offers up "Violencii or Violencum," a surprisingly upbeat lo-fi number that's rough and raw and kind of different from what you'd usually expect--it sounds like the entire band is taking turns on vocals, singing in the round--but it's also quite pleasant. The second single starts off with Mike Kinsella's project Owen, whose "I'm Not Seventeen" is quiet and sad and pretty, and it doesn't differ that much from his previous work. The same can be said of Make Believe's side, which surprisingly sounds more like Joan of Arc than "Violencii or Violencum." They're a great band, and "One Second WIde and Weeks Deep" clearly rivals anything on How Memory Works and A Portable Model Of.
Say what you will of the Joan of Arc collective, but you can't accuse them of not making great music. The Association of Utopian Hologram Swallowers is a unique but ultimately rewarding set, and it will quell any kind of notions you might have that Kinsella and company squandered their talents years ago. All of these projects are worthy of your attention, and may the four continue to make excellent music.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.polyvinylrecords.com
It's with the spirit of higlighting the groups many talents that they've released a double-seven inch EP, The Association of Utopian Hologram Swallowers. Each band is granted a different side, allowing--if ever so briefly--the ability for each musicial outlet to express its brilliance. The Love of Everything presents two quirky,cute indie-pop numbers, "Keep Off of Me" and "Proud by Looking Around," which are charming if you enjoy smart music sung by an occasionally off-key singer. It's easy to hear the Joan of Arc influence, especially in Bobby Berg's singing. Unlike previous records, Berg focused on the songwriting and produced two really great songs. Joan of Arc offers up "Violencii or Violencum," a surprisingly upbeat lo-fi number that's rough and raw and kind of different from what you'd usually expect--it sounds like the entire band is taking turns on vocals, singing in the round--but it's also quite pleasant. The second single starts off with Mike Kinsella's project Owen, whose "I'm Not Seventeen" is quiet and sad and pretty, and it doesn't differ that much from his previous work. The same can be said of Make Believe's side, which surprisingly sounds more like Joan of Arc than "Violencii or Violencum." They're a great band, and "One Second WIde and Weeks Deep" clearly rivals anything on How Memory Works and A Portable Model Of.
Say what you will of the Joan of Arc collective, but you can't accuse them of not making great music. The Association of Utopian Hologram Swallowers is a unique but ultimately rewarding set, and it will quell any kind of notions you might have that Kinsella and company squandered their talents years ago. All of these projects are worthy of your attention, and may the four continue to make excellent music.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.polyvinylrecords.com
Flotation Toy Warning "bluffer's guide to the flight deck"
If I may be extremely candid, writing this review has been damn near impossible. Some say writing a positive review is much harder than a negative review, and this record has proven that point quite well. But what happens when you get a record that's so over-the-top and so utterly beyond mere categorization, one that simply cannot be described in 400 words or less? I have a feeling that I could write 2000 words about Bluffer's Guide to the Flight Deck and that still would not be enough to fully describe the beauty of their music. So I ask you, dear reader, to be a little bit forgiving if this review reads kind of funny, because finding the proper words that fully express my feelings for Bluffer's Guide to the Flight Deck has proven quite difficult.
Flotation Toy Warning is a London-based five piece who released their debut album last year to overwhelming critical acclaim. It's instantly apparent that they love epic music, as this ten song album runs for a full seventy-two minutes. Within that hour and twelve minutes, you'll hear all sorts of things; you'll hear strings and vocals and theremins and synths and mellotrons and Moogs and kazoos and other instrumental ephemera best described as 'thingymabobs' and 'whatchamacallits.' The music is spacey and spaced out and kinda lazy and dreamy, but in a way that's natural, rural, and inexplicably British. Comparisons could be made to bands like Grandaddy, Radiohead, Mercury Rev, The Polyphonic Spree and even Yes and Electric Light Orchestra, but all of those descriptions fail in some part, because the traces of those bands are so miniscule in comparison to what you'll find on Bluffer's Guide to the Flight Deck. (Besides, none of those bands hold a copyright on making music with choirs, computers, or beautiful lyrics, so it's quite difficult to accuse Flotation Toy Warning of mere imitation.)
But the music of Bluffer's Guide to the Flight Deck? Oh, it's simply grand. Simply, utterly breathtakingly grand. It's an amazing feat, but it seems as if Flotation Toy Warning's masterminds decided to simply forgo any kind of conventional wisdom in regards to self-indulgence. It's a bold gambit, (anyone who's heard Rick Wakeman's solo records understands this quite well) but it's one that pays off; had Bluffer's Guide been any less self-indulgent, the album would have collapsed under its own heaviness. The songs are all mini-epics; all of them flow for several minutes at a time, yet the songs never overstay their welcome, nor do they grow burdensome. While it's easy to enjoy the flourishes of accordian and opera on "Losing Carolina: For Drusky," the string arrangement and choir on"Donald Pleasance" and the theremin on "Fire Engine on Fire pt. II," these bits and bobs of musical magic are simply embellishments of a larger symphonic movement. Instead of individual songs, the album feels like a symphonic movement; to take one song out of place and dissect it without the context of the rest of the record destroys the grandeur of the entire affair.
The most amazing thing about Bluffer's Guide to the Flight Deck? Impossible to say, because it's all so amazing. Donald Drusky, the enigmatic man of the hour, has proven both his genius and his madness; that he has done so on his debut record makes the entire Flotation Toy Warning experience even more mind-blowing. It was one of the best albums of 2004, and it's one of the best albums of 2005, hands down. Truly a beautiful, magnificent work of art that resides in a field of its own.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.flotationtoywarning.com
Label Website: http://www.misrarecords.com
Flotation Toy Warning is a London-based five piece who released their debut album last year to overwhelming critical acclaim. It's instantly apparent that they love epic music, as this ten song album runs for a full seventy-two minutes. Within that hour and twelve minutes, you'll hear all sorts of things; you'll hear strings and vocals and theremins and synths and mellotrons and Moogs and kazoos and other instrumental ephemera best described as 'thingymabobs' and 'whatchamacallits.' The music is spacey and spaced out and kinda lazy and dreamy, but in a way that's natural, rural, and inexplicably British. Comparisons could be made to bands like Grandaddy, Radiohead, Mercury Rev, The Polyphonic Spree and even Yes and Electric Light Orchestra, but all of those descriptions fail in some part, because the traces of those bands are so miniscule in comparison to what you'll find on Bluffer's Guide to the Flight Deck. (Besides, none of those bands hold a copyright on making music with choirs, computers, or beautiful lyrics, so it's quite difficult to accuse Flotation Toy Warning of mere imitation.)
But the music of Bluffer's Guide to the Flight Deck? Oh, it's simply grand. Simply, utterly breathtakingly grand. It's an amazing feat, but it seems as if Flotation Toy Warning's masterminds decided to simply forgo any kind of conventional wisdom in regards to self-indulgence. It's a bold gambit, (anyone who's heard Rick Wakeman's solo records understands this quite well) but it's one that pays off; had Bluffer's Guide been any less self-indulgent, the album would have collapsed under its own heaviness. The songs are all mini-epics; all of them flow for several minutes at a time, yet the songs never overstay their welcome, nor do they grow burdensome. While it's easy to enjoy the flourishes of accordian and opera on "Losing Carolina: For Drusky," the string arrangement and choir on"Donald Pleasance" and the theremin on "Fire Engine on Fire pt. II," these bits and bobs of musical magic are simply embellishments of a larger symphonic movement. Instead of individual songs, the album feels like a symphonic movement; to take one song out of place and dissect it without the context of the rest of the record destroys the grandeur of the entire affair.
The most amazing thing about Bluffer's Guide to the Flight Deck? Impossible to say, because it's all so amazing. Donald Drusky, the enigmatic man of the hour, has proven both his genius and his madness; that he has done so on his debut record makes the entire Flotation Toy Warning experience even more mind-blowing. It was one of the best albums of 2004, and it's one of the best albums of 2005, hands down. Truly a beautiful, magnificent work of art that resides in a field of its own.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.flotationtoywarning.com
Label Website: http://www.misrarecords.com
August 28, 2005
The Earlies "These Were The Earlies"
Sometimes, we Americans are the last to know. Take, for instance, The Earlies. Over the past few years, this half-Texan, half-British band quietly self-released a handful of really, really beautiful singles and EP's. There's nothing particularly unique about a band self-releasing music without the world's notice. When it's a wonderfully talented band like The Earlies, though, you'd hope that somebody, anybody would say, "hey, these guys are awesome, you need to hear them!" Which, of course, is exactly what happened last year. When These Were The Earlies was released, it was released to overwhelmingly glowing acclaim, making many critics' year-end lists, and rightfully so. But because it wasn't released over here, America didn't get the chance to hear it.
Be that as it may, the album is finally seeing release, and this musical wrong has been righted. It's a good thing, too, because The Earlies possess a sound that's desperately lacking in today's staid indie-rock scene. Where bands get caught up in their sound and using their sound as a bit of a gimmick, The Earlies reeks of sincerity. Of course, when half of your band is on another hemisphere and you make your music via the post, it's obvious you're making music for the love of it. Even though These Were The Earlies is nothing more than a glorified singles collection, it's amazingly cohesive; so seamless is their music, you'd swear that these guys were in the same room throughout the entire recording process. It's hard to imagine a band creating The Polyphonic Spree's orchestral grandness via The Postal Service's long-distance method, but that's exactly what they've done.
How special these musicians must be, to produce such beautiful music in such a unique way! Forget comparisons to anyone--The Earlies have a sound all their own; they are a truly original band. Comparisons to the Beach Boys, Mercury Rev, The Polyphonic Spree, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young and The Beatles are understandable, but they're not only too obvious, they don't serve The Earlies justice. That's what's so impressive about These Were The Earlies. Whether it's the swirling psychedelics of "25 Easy Pieces" or the tribal horns and drums of "Devil's Country," it's hard not to find something instantly charming about this record. Check out the fascinating one-two finale of "Bring it Back Again" and "Dead Birds"--from beauty to loudness and then tranquility, it's simply breathtaking. Dig those drop-dead gorgeous harmonies on "Morning Wonder," because no one's created harmonies that good in decades. After one listen, this record's status as a single collection instantly becomes moot; These Were The Earlies is as solid and cohesive as any fully developed album, if not more so; these songs belong together in a way that transcends mere compilation.
Though the album is full of wonderful songs, the true winner here is the mind-blowingly wonderful "Wayward Song." Start with a haunting bassoon. Throw in a pennywhistle that instantly reminds of "The Fool on the Hill" and lyrics that are so sunny and bright and positive and uplifting, and you've got a magical experience just waiting to happen. Then, the song crescendoes upwards and upwards, a symphony of sound growing louder and louder, going higher, higher, higher...and then this beautiful song, this wonderful sonic creation, it ends, quietly, gently. I heard this song nearly two years ago and instantly fell in love. Believe me, the song's magical spell is instantaneous; the need to hear it again, immediate. It will move you to tears and it will remind you just how powerful the power of music can be.
It's time for this band to stop being England's little secret. It's high time the world birthed a band like The Earlies. Now, all you need to do is hear it. Play catch-up and seek out These Were The Earlies immediately.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.theearlies.com
Label Website: http://www.secretlycanadian.com
Be that as it may, the album is finally seeing release, and this musical wrong has been righted. It's a good thing, too, because The Earlies possess a sound that's desperately lacking in today's staid indie-rock scene. Where bands get caught up in their sound and using their sound as a bit of a gimmick, The Earlies reeks of sincerity. Of course, when half of your band is on another hemisphere and you make your music via the post, it's obvious you're making music for the love of it. Even though These Were The Earlies is nothing more than a glorified singles collection, it's amazingly cohesive; so seamless is their music, you'd swear that these guys were in the same room throughout the entire recording process. It's hard to imagine a band creating The Polyphonic Spree's orchestral grandness via The Postal Service's long-distance method, but that's exactly what they've done.
How special these musicians must be, to produce such beautiful music in such a unique way! Forget comparisons to anyone--The Earlies have a sound all their own; they are a truly original band. Comparisons to the Beach Boys, Mercury Rev, The Polyphonic Spree, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young and The Beatles are understandable, but they're not only too obvious, they don't serve The Earlies justice. That's what's so impressive about These Were The Earlies. Whether it's the swirling psychedelics of "25 Easy Pieces" or the tribal horns and drums of "Devil's Country," it's hard not to find something instantly charming about this record. Check out the fascinating one-two finale of "Bring it Back Again" and "Dead Birds"--from beauty to loudness and then tranquility, it's simply breathtaking. Dig those drop-dead gorgeous harmonies on "Morning Wonder," because no one's created harmonies that good in decades. After one listen, this record's status as a single collection instantly becomes moot; These Were The Earlies is as solid and cohesive as any fully developed album, if not more so; these songs belong together in a way that transcends mere compilation.
Though the album is full of wonderful songs, the true winner here is the mind-blowingly wonderful "Wayward Song." Start with a haunting bassoon. Throw in a pennywhistle that instantly reminds of "The Fool on the Hill" and lyrics that are so sunny and bright and positive and uplifting, and you've got a magical experience just waiting to happen. Then, the song crescendoes upwards and upwards, a symphony of sound growing louder and louder, going higher, higher, higher...and then this beautiful song, this wonderful sonic creation, it ends, quietly, gently. I heard this song nearly two years ago and instantly fell in love. Believe me, the song's magical spell is instantaneous; the need to hear it again, immediate. It will move you to tears and it will remind you just how powerful the power of music can be.
It's time for this band to stop being England's little secret. It's high time the world birthed a band like The Earlies. Now, all you need to do is hear it. Play catch-up and seek out These Were The Earlies immediately.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.theearlies.com
Label Website: http://www.secretlycanadian.com
August 26, 2005
Pong "Bubble City"
The name Pong has instant connotations. For some, they might think of the game ping-pong, but for those old enough to remember, the term only means one thing: the video game Pong. A rudimentary video game, for those of us who played it back in the 1970s, it was a fun little addiction--and for those who scoff, it was surprisingly harder than it looked. It was a difficult game that required a lot of attention. There are those, though, who suggest that the game is much more complex than its simple design will lead you to believe, but to most, it's nothing more than simple pixel action. Still, it's kind of a fun game, if you like that sort of thing.
Pong the band is kind of like Pong the video game. Though at times their album Bubble City occasionally sounds much more complex than their simple formula might lead you to believe, ultimately they're nothing more--and nothing less--than an arty rock band with a penchant for vocoders, 70s glam rock and the Butthole Surfers. Not that there's anything wrong with that--especially when you consider that members of Pong formerly played in Austin's legendary weirdos Ed Hall. Taken in that context, Pong might not be the most original sounding band, but if you're in the mood for it, Bubble City is kind of a fun record, if you like that sort of thing. Some songs, such as "Killer Lifestyle" and "Secret Meat" border on the laughably absurd, thanks to some patently dumb lyrics, but you can't deny the band's chops, either; check out the excellent AC/DC-style guitar solos on "Interpol" and the excellent "Finally." The spaced-out "Click O.K." and "Conform To The Norm" are weird enough that you might think you were listening to the latest creation by Sir Gibby Haynes. Heck, when they make a "serious" moment like the mellow stoner-rock "After School Special," it sounds good, too.
So, Bubble City is best on an 'as-needed' basis. It's fun, but it could easily annoy you, if you're not in the mood for it. So take with a grain of salt and a hit of acid.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.pongsongs.com
Pong the band is kind of like Pong the video game. Though at times their album Bubble City occasionally sounds much more complex than their simple formula might lead you to believe, ultimately they're nothing more--and nothing less--than an arty rock band with a penchant for vocoders, 70s glam rock and the Butthole Surfers. Not that there's anything wrong with that--especially when you consider that members of Pong formerly played in Austin's legendary weirdos Ed Hall. Taken in that context, Pong might not be the most original sounding band, but if you're in the mood for it, Bubble City is kind of a fun record, if you like that sort of thing. Some songs, such as "Killer Lifestyle" and "Secret Meat" border on the laughably absurd, thanks to some patently dumb lyrics, but you can't deny the band's chops, either; check out the excellent AC/DC-style guitar solos on "Interpol" and the excellent "Finally." The spaced-out "Click O.K." and "Conform To The Norm" are weird enough that you might think you were listening to the latest creation by Sir Gibby Haynes. Heck, when they make a "serious" moment like the mellow stoner-rock "After School Special," it sounds good, too.
So, Bubble City is best on an 'as-needed' basis. It's fun, but it could easily annoy you, if you're not in the mood for it. So take with a grain of salt and a hit of acid.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.pongsongs.com
Kinski "Alpine Static"
A friend of mine went to see Kinski on their recent tour. He wasn’t that much of a fan, and until I heard Alpine Static, neither was I, but after being blown away by their new record, I suggested he make haste to their gig. His report back to me was most encouraging; he said he’d dismissed the band for a long time, but seeing them live made him change his opinion. He said what moved him most was watching the audience; people were throwing their hands up in the air and were singing along to every song. That Kinski is an instrumental band makes that even more impressive. Like my friend, I wasn’t convinced of Kinski’s greatness, but then I heard this Seattle group’s fifth album, Alpine Static, and I changed my tune.
With Alpine Static, Kinski continues to do what it has done so well for the past six years: epic, relentless stoned-out instrumental rock. As usual, they do the loud thing, they do the quiet thing, they do the noisy thing, but with age comes experience, and with experience comes restraint, and for the first time in their career, they’ve managed to produce a record that highlights their musical strengths and reigns in the monotony and the tedium that travels hand-in-hand with this kind of music. On Alpine Static, they pile on the heavy-duty rock jams (“Hiding Drugs in The Temple (Pt. 2)”) all the while offering beautiful instrumental paeans that expand the mind instantly, no drugs needed.
Alpine Static starts off heavy and loud. The first two songs, “Hot Stenographer” and “The Wives of Artie Shaw,” are loud, ferocious numbers that boogie and shimmer with a red-hot rock heat that’s enough to get your fist waving in the air and your head bopping. As Alpine Static proceeds, it grows mellower and deeply more beautiful; “Passed Out On Your Lawn” and “All Your Kids Have Turned To Static” are pretty numbers that caress your ears and soothe your soul from the rock beating a few songs previous. The one-two-three knockout closing punch of “The Snowy Parts of Scandinavia,” “Edge Set” and “Waka Nusa,” though, is the money shot; one listen will send all listeners—doubters and converts alike—into a cerebral journey that is relaxing, overwhelmingly beautiful and downright heavenly.
Though some people find instrumental rock to be a mixed bag, Kinski’s Alpine Static is a clear exception. The band’s ability to write heavy, epic rock that’s both beautiful and overwhelmingly powerful is indicative of a great talent, and with this record they’ve moved up into a stratosphere where they have no peers. An all-around amazing experience, this.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.kinski.net
Label Website: http://www.subpop.com
With Alpine Static, Kinski continues to do what it has done so well for the past six years: epic, relentless stoned-out instrumental rock. As usual, they do the loud thing, they do the quiet thing, they do the noisy thing, but with age comes experience, and with experience comes restraint, and for the first time in their career, they’ve managed to produce a record that highlights their musical strengths and reigns in the monotony and the tedium that travels hand-in-hand with this kind of music. On Alpine Static, they pile on the heavy-duty rock jams (“Hiding Drugs in The Temple (Pt. 2)”) all the while offering beautiful instrumental paeans that expand the mind instantly, no drugs needed.
Alpine Static starts off heavy and loud. The first two songs, “Hot Stenographer” and “The Wives of Artie Shaw,” are loud, ferocious numbers that boogie and shimmer with a red-hot rock heat that’s enough to get your fist waving in the air and your head bopping. As Alpine Static proceeds, it grows mellower and deeply more beautiful; “Passed Out On Your Lawn” and “All Your Kids Have Turned To Static” are pretty numbers that caress your ears and soothe your soul from the rock beating a few songs previous. The one-two-three knockout closing punch of “The Snowy Parts of Scandinavia,” “Edge Set” and “Waka Nusa,” though, is the money shot; one listen will send all listeners—doubters and converts alike—into a cerebral journey that is relaxing, overwhelmingly beautiful and downright heavenly.
Though some people find instrumental rock to be a mixed bag, Kinski’s Alpine Static is a clear exception. The band’s ability to write heavy, epic rock that’s both beautiful and overwhelmingly powerful is indicative of a great talent, and with this record they’ve moved up into a stratosphere where they have no peers. An all-around amazing experience, this.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.kinski.net
Label Website: http://www.subpop.com
August 24, 2005
Pale Sunday "Summertime?"
I have a hard time resisting sweet, innocent wholesome indiepop. When the singer’s sincere and sweet and the words are heartfelt, I’ll admit—I’m a goner. That’s why I’m admitting to being a total, utter swoonin’ fool over Brazil’s indiepop kings Pale Sunday. This trio has a sound that will satiate the sweetest of pop fixations; the music is sweetly simple and simply sweet, full of all the things that make great pop music great: jingle-jangle guitars, tambourines, hand-claps and crooning. Really, we were suckers for their debut EP, but that didn’t prepare us for the ten songs found on their debut Summertime?; there was simply no way we could have known these three romantics could have made a breathtaking record that captures the essence of youth.
From the heartbreak of “She’ll Never Be Mine” to the joyous “Sunday Morning” and the simply dreamy “Never Fall Apart” and “Mary,” Pale Sunday doesn’t try to overwhelm the listener with heavy-handed topics. Every member of the threesome takes turn writing songs, and that creates a nice variety of the very simple themes to be found: love, crushes, heartbreak, holding hands and enjoying music. More importantly, these songs are about enjoying life, the experiences of life, and the elements that make human existence wonderful: emotion.
Their music may be simple and it might sound like it’s about to fall apart, but underneath the clutter and the racket is the heart of a really great young band. This is music for mix-tapes made by young men who know the magic of mix-tape making, and if there are other bands making this kind of charming indiepop, I really don’t care to know…I’m in love with Pale Sunday now.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.indiepages.com/matinee/artists/palesunday.html
Label Website: http://www.indiepages.com/matinee
From the heartbreak of “She’ll Never Be Mine” to the joyous “Sunday Morning” and the simply dreamy “Never Fall Apart” and “Mary,” Pale Sunday doesn’t try to overwhelm the listener with heavy-handed topics. Every member of the threesome takes turn writing songs, and that creates a nice variety of the very simple themes to be found: love, crushes, heartbreak, holding hands and enjoying music. More importantly, these songs are about enjoying life, the experiences of life, and the elements that make human existence wonderful: emotion.
Their music may be simple and it might sound like it’s about to fall apart, but underneath the clutter and the racket is the heart of a really great young band. This is music for mix-tapes made by young men who know the magic of mix-tape making, and if there are other bands making this kind of charming indiepop, I really don’t care to know…I’m in love with Pale Sunday now.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.indiepages.com/matinee/artists/palesunday.html
Label Website: http://www.indiepages.com/matinee
Joe Strummer "Walker"
In 1986, shortly after dissolving his band The Clash, Joe Strummer teamed up with filmmaker Alex Cox. Strummer contributed music to his films Straight to Hell and Sid & Nancy, but only with Walker did Strummer provide an entire soundtrack. On the surface, it’s easy to understand why Strummer would involve himself; the story line involves rebels and government coups in South America, all done by an American businessman. It’s a gritty, hard-hitting film that depicts a rugged way of life and though somewhat of a B-movie, it’s the kind of polemic Strummer seemed to endorse. The Walker soundtrack has been Strummer’s most sought-after solo records, as it appeared only briefly in 1987, only to fall out of print for the next eighteen years.
On the surface, the concept of Strummer working with a handful of Mexican musicians sounds fascinating, but in execution, the results are a bit middling. As this is a film score, all but three of the selections on Walker are instrumental. These songs range from fascinating to downright bland, and one would be hard-pressed to identify Joe Strummer as the composer. While some songs have a really nice rhythm, such as “Nica Libre” and “Omotempe,” almost all of Walker sounds generic; most of it is forgettable and it certainly doesn’t sound like South America circa 1850. The three songs with vocals fare much better; “Tropic of No Return” has a pretty, gentle feel, accented by the sound of crickets, while “Tennessee Rain” and “The Unknown Immortal” both come close to the ethnic period feel that is missing from the rest of the Walker.
What makes Walker worthwhile, though, is it serves as a missing link between The Clash and the comeback with his band The Mescaleros. Much of Walker sounds like rehearsals for what would come to pass on songs like “The Road to Rock and Roll” and “Sandpaper Blues,” on 1999’s Rock Art and The X-Ray Style. In the context of what he would do a decade later, Walker makes sense, even if it doesn’t sound like Nicaragua circa 1850. That his first few experiments with the Latin groove didn’t succeed is nothing to hold against him; if anything, his experience with Walker probably whetted his desire to attempt to make music this worldly and this unique. (It’s perhaps best to forget Earthquake Weather at all costs, though, and aim directly towards his twilight resurgence.)
Joe Strummer was a man who was not afraid of taking a creative risk, and it wasn’t until the end of his life that he successfully melded world music with his punk sensibility. Walker was perhaps his first attempt at doing so, and it didn’t quite work. As it stands, the Walker soundtrack is more of a curiosity than an essential listen, an interesting collection of songs and ideas from a man who helped redefine modern rock music.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.joestrummer.com
Label Website: http://www.astralwerks.com
On the surface, the concept of Strummer working with a handful of Mexican musicians sounds fascinating, but in execution, the results are a bit middling. As this is a film score, all but three of the selections on Walker are instrumental. These songs range from fascinating to downright bland, and one would be hard-pressed to identify Joe Strummer as the composer. While some songs have a really nice rhythm, such as “Nica Libre” and “Omotempe,” almost all of Walker sounds generic; most of it is forgettable and it certainly doesn’t sound like South America circa 1850. The three songs with vocals fare much better; “Tropic of No Return” has a pretty, gentle feel, accented by the sound of crickets, while “Tennessee Rain” and “The Unknown Immortal” both come close to the ethnic period feel that is missing from the rest of the Walker.
What makes Walker worthwhile, though, is it serves as a missing link between The Clash and the comeback with his band The Mescaleros. Much of Walker sounds like rehearsals for what would come to pass on songs like “The Road to Rock and Roll” and “Sandpaper Blues,” on 1999’s Rock Art and The X-Ray Style. In the context of what he would do a decade later, Walker makes sense, even if it doesn’t sound like Nicaragua circa 1850. That his first few experiments with the Latin groove didn’t succeed is nothing to hold against him; if anything, his experience with Walker probably whetted his desire to attempt to make music this worldly and this unique. (It’s perhaps best to forget Earthquake Weather at all costs, though, and aim directly towards his twilight resurgence.)
Joe Strummer was a man who was not afraid of taking a creative risk, and it wasn’t until the end of his life that he successfully melded world music with his punk sensibility. Walker was perhaps his first attempt at doing so, and it didn’t quite work. As it stands, the Walker soundtrack is more of a curiosity than an essential listen, an interesting collection of songs and ideas from a man who helped redefine modern rock music.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.joestrummer.com
Label Website: http://www.astralwerks.com
August 22, 2005
Statistics "Often Lie"
For his first two records, Denver Dalley made music by himself, and the music reflected the solidarity of their creation. That both records never betrayed or revealed Dalley’s connection to the Omaha/Saddle Creek scene made the records even better. Even though Leave Your Name occasionally hinted at Dalley’s pop sensibilities, he tempered his sweet tooth for rock with intimate, homespun warmth that made his music charming. Apparently, Dalley felt it was time to take his music into a new direction, and for those expecting the quiet bedroom pop of before will be in for a bit of a shock.Often Lie, Statistics' second album, eschews the styles of yore for a much more commercial, generic emo-rock sound. Opening "Final Broadcast" sounds less like their wonderful debut album and more like a long-lost Clarity b-side.
Despite the heavy-duty use of a full band throughout most of
Often Lie, Dalley still hasn’t lost the lazy, detached singing of before. No matter how loud or rambunctious the music comes—and it does get rather loud, especially on “Final Broadcast” and “A Forward”—he never loses his cool. As the record progresses, the music sheds the harder elements, and songs like “Begging to be Heard” and “At The End” find Statistics gently reverting back to the quieter styles found on Leave Your Name. It's easy to understand Dalley's need to push his music in different directions, and even though the music sounds excellent, because the songs sound so been there, done that, they feel somewhat empty.
Often Lie feels top-heavy; the first half of the record is dedicated to his new style, while the last half of the record heads for more familiar territory. That the album starts off sounding hard, loud and poppy and ends with a return to form might indicate a conflict between a complete stylistic change and affection for the sounds that defined previous records. Had the record been a bit more varied in its programming, the stylistic growth might not have been as noticeable and the record might have felt a bit more cohesive. Often Lie feels like a bit of a misstep, a stylistic turn that doesn't quite feel right. Hopefully Dalley can rectify such problems in the future.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.statisticsmusic.com
Label Website: http://www.jadetree.com
Despite the heavy-duty use of a full band throughout most of
Often Lie, Dalley still hasn’t lost the lazy, detached singing of before. No matter how loud or rambunctious the music comes—and it does get rather loud, especially on “Final Broadcast” and “A Forward”—he never loses his cool. As the record progresses, the music sheds the harder elements, and songs like “Begging to be Heard” and “At The End” find Statistics gently reverting back to the quieter styles found on Leave Your Name. It's easy to understand Dalley's need to push his music in different directions, and even though the music sounds excellent, because the songs sound so been there, done that, they feel somewhat empty.
Often Lie feels top-heavy; the first half of the record is dedicated to his new style, while the last half of the record heads for more familiar territory. That the album starts off sounding hard, loud and poppy and ends with a return to form might indicate a conflict between a complete stylistic change and affection for the sounds that defined previous records. Had the record been a bit more varied in its programming, the stylistic growth might not have been as noticeable and the record might have felt a bit more cohesive. Often Lie feels like a bit of a misstep, a stylistic turn that doesn't quite feel right. Hopefully Dalley can rectify such problems in the future.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.statisticsmusic.com
Label Website: http://www.jadetree.com
Beautiful Skin "Everything, All This, and More"
Relatively speaking, New York-based Beautiful Skin seemingly did not accomplish much. In its lifetime, the band released a seven inch single and an LP, Resolve. They added two members and toured with De Facto and The Locust, and then promptly broke up in 2000, just short of the New York post-punk scene's popularity explosion. Front man Nick Forte had previously been in hardcore band Rorschach and synth-punk legends Computer Cougar, but Beautiful Skin didn't really sound like either. If anything, the music Forte made with his partner in crime, synth player Ross Totino, sounds like the bridge between mid-1990s new wavers Satisfact and Interpol.
Everything, All This, and More collects their debut single, "Sex Is a Triangle For a Perfect Square," as well as a good bit of unreleased material. One shouldn't think that because this material remained unreleased means it was inferior, because that’s certainly not the case. If anything, it shows that Beautiful Skin as a band possessing two facets: a pop side and a more experimental side, with the more experimental side definitely better than the pop side. At times, the band sounded downright silly: songs like “Skin” and “Lacerations” and their debut single blended heavy-handed goth-rock with outrageous, absurd lyrics, and they come across like a piss-take version of Joy Division. Though one might make a case that perhaps being absurdly funny and overly serious might have been the point, it’s a flimsy argument, especially in light of the bands more serious moments.
If anything, this conflict is a conflict between the lyrical side and the instrumental side, for when the band stopped being silly, their music became much more interesting; their sound blends New Order’s rhythms with Durutti Column’s solemn beauty, and surprisingly, it works. Songs like “Oslo Nightlife” and the title track are complex soundscapes that are moody, depressing and downright beautiful, and they’re enough to make you reevaluate the bands lesser material. So wonderful are these moments of instrumental bliss, one wonders why someone never told Forte to ditch his lyrics and focus on the music. On “Frontline”—a live recording from one of their last shows—Beautiful Skin seemingly discover the balance between the new-wave tendencies and the grander instrumental elements. That the band broke up before further pursuing that one glimmer of greatness is indeed tragic. One wonders, though, if it’s this duality that broke up the band.
Everything, All This and More is a compelling collection, and it makes a case that Beautiful Skin foreshadowed--and could have possibly innovated, had they stayed together--the post-punk trend that developed shortly after their demise.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.goldstandardlabs.com
Everything, All This, and More collects their debut single, "Sex Is a Triangle For a Perfect Square," as well as a good bit of unreleased material. One shouldn't think that because this material remained unreleased means it was inferior, because that’s certainly not the case. If anything, it shows that Beautiful Skin as a band possessing two facets: a pop side and a more experimental side, with the more experimental side definitely better than the pop side. At times, the band sounded downright silly: songs like “Skin” and “Lacerations” and their debut single blended heavy-handed goth-rock with outrageous, absurd lyrics, and they come across like a piss-take version of Joy Division. Though one might make a case that perhaps being absurdly funny and overly serious might have been the point, it’s a flimsy argument, especially in light of the bands more serious moments.
If anything, this conflict is a conflict between the lyrical side and the instrumental side, for when the band stopped being silly, their music became much more interesting; their sound blends New Order’s rhythms with Durutti Column’s solemn beauty, and surprisingly, it works. Songs like “Oslo Nightlife” and the title track are complex soundscapes that are moody, depressing and downright beautiful, and they’re enough to make you reevaluate the bands lesser material. So wonderful are these moments of instrumental bliss, one wonders why someone never told Forte to ditch his lyrics and focus on the music. On “Frontline”—a live recording from one of their last shows—Beautiful Skin seemingly discover the balance between the new-wave tendencies and the grander instrumental elements. That the band broke up before further pursuing that one glimmer of greatness is indeed tragic. One wonders, though, if it’s this duality that broke up the band.
Everything, All This and More is a compelling collection, and it makes a case that Beautiful Skin foreshadowed--and could have possibly innovated, had they stayed together--the post-punk trend that developed shortly after their demise.
--Joseph Kyle
Label Website: http://www.goldstandardlabs.com
August 13, 2005
The Paper Chase "God Bless Your Black Heart"
I never thought I’d see the day in which Kill Rock Stars, once the home of a thousand amateurish “riot-grrl” bands, would release a misogynistic nü-metal record…but if Teena Marie can get signed to Cash Money, anything is possible nowadays. Before anyone cries “sell out,” though, rest assured that the Paper Chase’s new album is good enough to justify the ideological compromise. Besides, calling their music “misogynistic nü-metal” would be selling it short. Most nü-metal sounds like it was made by a bunch of guys who still haven’t gotten over not getting laid in high school, and think that “heaviness” is far more important than compositional skill. Paper Chase auteur John Congleton, on the other hand, is the real deal. If God Bless Your Black Heart is anything to go by, he’s a religiously tormented sociopath who got screwed over tremendously by his ex and is out for blood. Song titles like “Abby, You’re Going to Burn for What You’ve Done to Me” reinforce this impression even before the disc enters the player! Not only that, but he and his band are talented enough to make such pain translate to the listener in musical Technicolor. You’ll bang your head and sing along, but you’ll also fear for your life.
This Denton quartet’s discography is a case study in self-actualization. Over the course of four albums and three EPs they’ve perfected their sound in such a way that each release becomes more bombastic and accomplished than the last. Congleton has always sang in the reediest, most nasal voice this side of “Weird Al” Yankovic, supplementing his rants with incessantly squealing guitars that sound like police sirens playing Frippertronics. Queasy, dissonant piano, whether played by Congleton or newest member Sean Kirkpatrick, has always shared center stage with the guitars. Bassist Bobby Weaver and drummer Aryn Dalton have long been Texas’ answer to Led
Zeppelin’s two Johns. On God Bless Your Black Heart, though,
the four musicians establish a synergy that makes their already
intimidating sound become truly fearsome. Add Congleton’s astonishing skill as a producer and arranger to the mix, and the fearsome becomes downright oppressive. Every word and note on this album is carefully positioned for maximum effect. For 53 straight minutes, this album maintains a level of suspense and terror that one would expect from a Wes Craven or M. Night Shyamalan flick.
Opener “Said the Spider to the Fly” is a 2/4 death march that begins
with the sound of footsteps. These footsteps become the heartbeat of the song, and layers of instruments slowly emerge underneath John’s vow of revenge against an unfaithful woman. Once the song ends, we overhear two disembodied voices conversing about cannibalism. By the time you turn the stereo up to make out what they‘re saying, “One Day He Went Out for Milk and Never Came Home” begins with a scream that will make the hairs on your neck stand up. “Sweetheart, I’d send you up to heaven,” Congleton sings in this song’s climax, “but you’d eat them out of house and home.” Congleton’s ex is put through immeasurable torture on this album. On “Ready, Willing,
Cain and Able” he deems her a religious hypocrite. Three songs later, “Your Ankles to Your Earlobes” finds him drugging her, beating her, and accusing her of letting other men “gangbang” her.
One of the best things about this album is its expert employment of
sound effects to establish atmosphere and reinforce Congleton‘s lyrical conceits. On “What I’d Be Without Me,” his cut-up voice condemns women for gravitating to abusive men (and men for seeking vapid whores), as unidentified women scream in the background. “Now, We Just Slowly Circle the Draining Fish Bowl” laments our inability to suppress or eliminate the darker side of our psyches. In this song, the sound of bees buzzing is used to represent the protagonist’s nagging conscience. Other songs employ testifying
preachers and emergency hotline phone calls to underscore the fatalism of the lyrics.
When Congleton isn‘t attacking his ex, he directs his anger toward
other chauvinistic men (“The Sinking Ship The Grand Applause”) and sexual deviants. “Let’s Be Bad, Henry, Let’s Be Really Bad” is sung from the point of view of a homosexual man trying to convince the married man he’s sleeping with to come clean to his wife and leave her. Congleton’s hatred of everyone (including himself) is so all consuming that by album’s end, he’s wishing to die so that he can have something---anything---resembling peace. Shockingly, despite the histrionic music, not a whit of Congleton’s rage comes across as exaggerated or hackneyed. Either the man really is a ticking time bomb, or he’s much more gifted a writer than his critics give him credit for being.
What a double-edged sword this album is: it illustrates the darker side of human nature so well that most listeners won’t ever digest it in one sitting. This website’s very own editor can’t even get past the fourth track! It’s not enough that the Paper Chase have a sound that borders on indescribable (Limp Bizkit with a Pentecostal upbringing and Ph.Ds in music theory?), but they also insist on putting their listeners through utter psychological warfare! This album’s quite the endurance test, but I have to recommend it anyway.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.thepaperchaseband.com
Label Website: http://www.killrockstars.com
This Denton quartet’s discography is a case study in self-actualization. Over the course of four albums and three EPs they’ve perfected their sound in such a way that each release becomes more bombastic and accomplished than the last. Congleton has always sang in the reediest, most nasal voice this side of “Weird Al” Yankovic, supplementing his rants with incessantly squealing guitars that sound like police sirens playing Frippertronics. Queasy, dissonant piano, whether played by Congleton or newest member Sean Kirkpatrick, has always shared center stage with the guitars. Bassist Bobby Weaver and drummer Aryn Dalton have long been Texas’ answer to Led
Zeppelin’s two Johns. On God Bless Your Black Heart, though,
the four musicians establish a synergy that makes their already
intimidating sound become truly fearsome. Add Congleton’s astonishing skill as a producer and arranger to the mix, and the fearsome becomes downright oppressive. Every word and note on this album is carefully positioned for maximum effect. For 53 straight minutes, this album maintains a level of suspense and terror that one would expect from a Wes Craven or M. Night Shyamalan flick.
Opener “Said the Spider to the Fly” is a 2/4 death march that begins
with the sound of footsteps. These footsteps become the heartbeat of the song, and layers of instruments slowly emerge underneath John’s vow of revenge against an unfaithful woman. Once the song ends, we overhear two disembodied voices conversing about cannibalism. By the time you turn the stereo up to make out what they‘re saying, “One Day He Went Out for Milk and Never Came Home” begins with a scream that will make the hairs on your neck stand up. “Sweetheart, I’d send you up to heaven,” Congleton sings in this song’s climax, “but you’d eat them out of house and home.” Congleton’s ex is put through immeasurable torture on this album. On “Ready, Willing,
Cain and Able” he deems her a religious hypocrite. Three songs later, “Your Ankles to Your Earlobes” finds him drugging her, beating her, and accusing her of letting other men “gangbang” her.
One of the best things about this album is its expert employment of
sound effects to establish atmosphere and reinforce Congleton‘s lyrical conceits. On “What I’d Be Without Me,” his cut-up voice condemns women for gravitating to abusive men (and men for seeking vapid whores), as unidentified women scream in the background. “Now, We Just Slowly Circle the Draining Fish Bowl” laments our inability to suppress or eliminate the darker side of our psyches. In this song, the sound of bees buzzing is used to represent the protagonist’s nagging conscience. Other songs employ testifying
preachers and emergency hotline phone calls to underscore the fatalism of the lyrics.
When Congleton isn‘t attacking his ex, he directs his anger toward
other chauvinistic men (“The Sinking Ship The Grand Applause”) and sexual deviants. “Let’s Be Bad, Henry, Let’s Be Really Bad” is sung from the point of view of a homosexual man trying to convince the married man he’s sleeping with to come clean to his wife and leave her. Congleton’s hatred of everyone (including himself) is so all consuming that by album’s end, he’s wishing to die so that he can have something---anything---resembling peace. Shockingly, despite the histrionic music, not a whit of Congleton’s rage comes across as exaggerated or hackneyed. Either the man really is a ticking time bomb, or he’s much more gifted a writer than his critics give him credit for being.
What a double-edged sword this album is: it illustrates the darker side of human nature so well that most listeners won’t ever digest it in one sitting. This website’s very own editor can’t even get past the fourth track! It’s not enough that the Paper Chase have a sound that borders on indescribable (Limp Bizkit with a Pentecostal upbringing and Ph.Ds in music theory?), but they also insist on putting their listeners through utter psychological warfare! This album’s quite the endurance test, but I have to recommend it anyway.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.thepaperchaseband.com
Label Website: http://www.killrockstars.com
August 12, 2005
Pelican "The Fire In Our Throats Will Beckon the Thaw"
It was only a matter of time before a band came along and messed with the traditional ‘metal’ formula. Sure, for years bands like Coverge, Neurosis and Coalesce have mixed the harshness of heavy metal and hardcore, and they've succeed in blending the two styles together. Yet for all their innovation, they've still not convincingly made a record that's blended both styles together naturally. Cave In, though, came closest, and will hopefully be recognized as the innovators they are; their career has been a crescendo of a style that’s a mutation of hardcore, metal, prog and pop, and it’s not really surprising to find bands inspired by their ideas.
Pelican, though, takes all of these ideas even further. Dropping the vocals completely and tossing aside their poppier tendencies, they substitute those elements with a spaced-out atmospheric tendency reminiscent of Godspeed! You Black Emperor. Pelican’s latest album, The Fire In Our Throats Will Beckon The Thaw, is nothing less than an hour long epic journey of heavy-duty instrumental rock. Apparently, the mysterious forces behind Pelican understand that there is beauty to be found in even the loudest of sounds, and that’s certainly the case here. For the most part, Pelican specializes in epic rock; of the seven songs here, three of them make the ten minute mark and another one comes damn close to it. Beginning with the monster “Last Day of Winter,” it’s quite clear that Pelican has some clear goals in mind: making music that’s strong and heavy and unconcerned with what the listener might be able to withstand.
That’s not to say that Pelican is only interested in overpowering the listener, though. . Even the heaviest of The Fire’s songs contain a small element of beauty, a seed of delicacy protected by an impenetrable outer shell. Hard relentless riffs are tempered with quiet moments; in between the heavy “March to the Sea” and “Red Ran Amber” is the untitled fourth track, a gentle, eye-of-the-storm acoustic folk instrumental. Then there’s “Aurora Borealis” is beautiful, epic space-rock that’s shimmers and shines brightly, and ultimately you can’t help but consider it to be anything less than an impressionistic interpretation of that space phenomenon. Yet, in an odd twist, as the songs on The Fire grow shorter, the album’s cohesiveness starts to dwindle; fortunately, the album ends before losing its bearing.
Instrumental music can be boring, but if done properly, it can be quite rewarding, and Pelican’s The Fire In Our Throats Will Beckon the Thaw is most certainly that. While their heavy riffing might not be for everyone, for those who appreciate a band willing to push the musical envelope, then this is an album certainly worthy of attention.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.hydrahead.com/pelican/
Label Website: http://www.hydrahead.com
Pelican, though, takes all of these ideas even further. Dropping the vocals completely and tossing aside their poppier tendencies, they substitute those elements with a spaced-out atmospheric tendency reminiscent of Godspeed! You Black Emperor. Pelican’s latest album, The Fire In Our Throats Will Beckon The Thaw, is nothing less than an hour long epic journey of heavy-duty instrumental rock. Apparently, the mysterious forces behind Pelican understand that there is beauty to be found in even the loudest of sounds, and that’s certainly the case here. For the most part, Pelican specializes in epic rock; of the seven songs here, three of them make the ten minute mark and another one comes damn close to it. Beginning with the monster “Last Day of Winter,” it’s quite clear that Pelican has some clear goals in mind: making music that’s strong and heavy and unconcerned with what the listener might be able to withstand.
That’s not to say that Pelican is only interested in overpowering the listener, though. . Even the heaviest of The Fire’s songs contain a small element of beauty, a seed of delicacy protected by an impenetrable outer shell. Hard relentless riffs are tempered with quiet moments; in between the heavy “March to the Sea” and “Red Ran Amber” is the untitled fourth track, a gentle, eye-of-the-storm acoustic folk instrumental. Then there’s “Aurora Borealis” is beautiful, epic space-rock that’s shimmers and shines brightly, and ultimately you can’t help but consider it to be anything less than an impressionistic interpretation of that space phenomenon. Yet, in an odd twist, as the songs on The Fire grow shorter, the album’s cohesiveness starts to dwindle; fortunately, the album ends before losing its bearing.
Instrumental music can be boring, but if done properly, it can be quite rewarding, and Pelican’s The Fire In Our Throats Will Beckon the Thaw is most certainly that. While their heavy riffing might not be for everyone, for those who appreciate a band willing to push the musical envelope, then this is an album certainly worthy of attention.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.hydrahead.com/pelican/
Label Website: http://www.hydrahead.com
August 10, 2005
The Concretes "Layyourbattleaxedown"
In a way, The Concretes are The Cardigans' little sister: they're just as pretty, charming and sweet like their big sister, but they're just not quite in the same league; they're just as talented, but big sister is always going to dominate. Of course, considering they've never really had the chance to shine, we haven't really seen The Concretes' full potential. Though last year's self-titled debut introduced this Swedish band to a larger audience, it was not their first record; the band formed in 1995, sporadically releasing EPs and singles. Their first album, released in 2000, was nothing more than a collection of previously-released material.
Layourbattleaxedown serves as a compendium to Boy You Better Run Now, compiling many--but not all--of The Concretes' singles and EPs released since 2000, including 2001's Nationalgeographic, 2002's single Forces and last year's Warm Night EP. As these types of releases go, it's an interesting snapshot of a young band's growth. Earlier songs like "Forces" and "Under your Leaves" find the band staying close to its indiepop roots; their style has not quite matured, but it's obvious to see that their growth would result in good things. By the time of Warm Night--a wonderfully strong follow-up to their self-titled debut--it was clear that they had already started to mature beyond what they'd just released a few months prior. Their songs, especially "Lady December" and "Seems Fine Shuffle," find the band creating more complex music, with more intricate accompaniment and sophisticated arrangements.
Though they might not be the most prolific of bands, The Concretes' material is always lovely and enjoyable, and for those who are looking for something to accompany their lovely debut, Layourbattleaxedown is a nice companion piece.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.theconcretes.com
Label Website: http://www.astralwerks.com
Layourbattleaxedown serves as a compendium to Boy You Better Run Now, compiling many--but not all--of The Concretes' singles and EPs released since 2000, including 2001's Nationalgeographic, 2002's single Forces and last year's Warm Night EP. As these types of releases go, it's an interesting snapshot of a young band's growth. Earlier songs like "Forces" and "Under your Leaves" find the band staying close to its indiepop roots; their style has not quite matured, but it's obvious to see that their growth would result in good things. By the time of Warm Night--a wonderfully strong follow-up to their self-titled debut--it was clear that they had already started to mature beyond what they'd just released a few months prior. Their songs, especially "Lady December" and "Seems Fine Shuffle," find the band creating more complex music, with more intricate accompaniment and sophisticated arrangements.
Though they might not be the most prolific of bands, The Concretes' material is always lovely and enjoyable, and for those who are looking for something to accompany their lovely debut, Layourbattleaxedown is a nice companion piece.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.theconcretes.com
Label Website: http://www.astralwerks.com
Dogme 95 "Arcadian Hymns"
I'll admit, I'm not quite grasping the "concept" of Dogme 95's concept-album debut, Arcadian Hymns. In the liner notes, there's some rambing on about the importance of threes, and the album itself is evenly divided into three five-song sections, but still, that doesn't really shed any light on what it is Dogme 95's enigmatic frontman (AKA Nick) is trying to say. Maybe I'm just not trying hard enough to understand? Could be. Whatever the concept might be, one thing is glaringly obvious; Arcadian Hymns is a most peculiar record. It's a blend of old-timey instruments banging up against modern synthetic gadgets, and it forms a sound that's equally primative, modern and post-modern.
Arcadian Hymns starts with "Summon My Baptist Way," one of the first indie-rock chain gang songs I've ever heard. Accompanied by nothing more than the sound of hand percussion and his own multitracked voice, it's a rough, raw delight. It's followed by "Kingdom/Garden," an equally pretty song, but unlike its predecessor, this song is completely synthetic in nature, save for Nick's own soulful singing. Following this little new-wave delight is "Calm & Tame," which is an upbeat, singalong-style number that's simply Nick on acoustic guitar and basic percussion. This juxtaposition of the raw and natural and the slick and artificial makes Arcadian Hyms a charming balm for music lovers weary of modern-day "traditionalists." Just listen to "Bear Beat II," a chain-gang chant that's built on a drum-machine beat, or "Left Field Battle Call," a folk number that's built around a reggae beat and a drum-machine accompaniment; though ultimately they are simple melodies, they sound quite complex, simply because nobody's ever really done anything quite like this.
He does err somewhat by inserting some simple electronic-based numbers; while such moments are interesting, songs like "Ocean Floor" and "Push Baby Fallin" weigh down the rest of the record, because they're simply self-indulgent pieces that serve no real purpose. It's clear that Nick is a much better bluesman than he is innovator, and after listening to him channel the past so convincingly, coming back to the present just seems rather awkward. Still, with their blend of futuristic beats and the raw centuries-old blues rhythms, it's clear that Dogme 95's discovered the stylistic formula that has elluded Beck for the past decade. All in all, Arcadian Hymns is an excellent, interesting debut.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.missionlabel.com/dogme95
Label Website: http://www.missionlabel.com
Arcadian Hymns starts with "Summon My Baptist Way," one of the first indie-rock chain gang songs I've ever heard. Accompanied by nothing more than the sound of hand percussion and his own multitracked voice, it's a rough, raw delight. It's followed by "Kingdom/Garden," an equally pretty song, but unlike its predecessor, this song is completely synthetic in nature, save for Nick's own soulful singing. Following this little new-wave delight is "Calm & Tame," which is an upbeat, singalong-style number that's simply Nick on acoustic guitar and basic percussion. This juxtaposition of the raw and natural and the slick and artificial makes Arcadian Hyms a charming balm for music lovers weary of modern-day "traditionalists." Just listen to "Bear Beat II," a chain-gang chant that's built on a drum-machine beat, or "Left Field Battle Call," a folk number that's built around a reggae beat and a drum-machine accompaniment; though ultimately they are simple melodies, they sound quite complex, simply because nobody's ever really done anything quite like this.
He does err somewhat by inserting some simple electronic-based numbers; while such moments are interesting, songs like "Ocean Floor" and "Push Baby Fallin" weigh down the rest of the record, because they're simply self-indulgent pieces that serve no real purpose. It's clear that Nick is a much better bluesman than he is innovator, and after listening to him channel the past so convincingly, coming back to the present just seems rather awkward. Still, with their blend of futuristic beats and the raw centuries-old blues rhythms, it's clear that Dogme 95's discovered the stylistic formula that has elluded Beck for the past decade. All in all, Arcadian Hymns is an excellent, interesting debut.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.missionlabel.com/dogme95
Label Website: http://www.missionlabel.com
August 09, 2005
Wolf Parade "Wolf Parade"
So, American Indie Rock scene, get ready. There's a brand new band preparing to dominate you, and this time, they're definitely worthy of the hype machine. Canada's Wolf Parade (NOT to be confused with labelmates Wolf Eyes!) have been around for a few years, have toured with Modest Mouse and have yet to make an opening statement that proves their worth. That's all about to change, though, and Wolf Parade is the radar blip for their impending American invasion. You could be a cynical ass and call them this year's Modest Heat or Hot Hot Mouse, and considering Mr. Isaac Brock helped produce their debut, one might have some kind of justification for such a statement. (Okay, to be fair, don't be surprised at the little Brockisms when you listen to "You Are a Runner and I am My Father's Son.") Spencer Krug can SING, too; he's got a few little David Bowies running through his style, but when he pulls off a magical concoction like "Disco Sheets," it's quite okay. And hell, "Shine a Light" is going to be a HUGE song come this fall; right after they release their debut album Apologies to the Queen Mary,I'm predicting that it will make an appearance on The OC. Let's not get too hyped about that, though...after all, you know what happens when you mix hype with Sub Pop, don't you?
It's pure pop nirvana, that's what!
(You've been warned.)
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.subpop.com/scripts/main/bands_page.php?id=438
Label Website: http://www.subpop.com
It's pure pop nirvana, that's what!
(You've been warned.)
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.subpop.com/scripts/main/bands_page.php?id=438
Label Website: http://www.subpop.com
August 08, 2005
Traindodge "Torch +2"
In 2001, Norman, Oklahoma's Traindodge released a four-song EP, Torch. Little did anyone know how ironic the name would be, for shortly after its release a fire destroyed most of No Karma's warehouse, and this brilliant little record fell out of print. After years of enduring requests from a growing fanbase--as well as tapping into the critical acclaim accorded their most recent album, The Truth--Torch has been reissued, repackaged and remastered, complete with two bonus tracks from 1999.
Why Traindodge let this record languish out of print for so long is a bit of a mystery, because this is truly a great little record. Though it's rough around the edges, there's a certain magical charm in their burgeoning style. While "The Raining Room" and "Sleeper Symptom" might seem a bit by-the-book, they're not bad songs; they both show the band capable of making quality art-punk, even if they're a little too indebted to the Dischord sound. Lead singer Jason Smith's ability to temper the quiet moments with screaming and the loud parts with soft, melodic singing is quite a treat, and though the rest of the band have the capacity to get rather rowdy (especially the drummer), their restraint is quite impressive--anything more than what they give would be too much, but anything less would not be enough. In an interesting twist, the two bonus tracks, "Low Shoulder" and "Kachina" are a few years older than the songs on Torch but these tracks don't sound as by-the-book as the EP songs, clearly showing that even in their early years, Traindodge had already developed and honed down their style.
"Mountaintown Fire Station" and "Cactus Flag," however, show that Traindodge had already started to formulate some really fascinating ideas. Both are slow, dark and heavy, but both are riddled with a touch of melodicism that makes them quite compelling. Best of all is "Cactus Flag," a soft, brooding eleven-minute epic prog-punk masterpiece; it predates The Mars Volta and it's a beautifully inspired slice of rock music. It starts off slow and it doesn't hurry much, but as it builds it grows even deeper, darker and more schizophrenic, finally ending in a climax of noise and synth-heavy prog-rock weirdness. One wonders what might have happened had the world been able to hear it.
These are good days for Traindodge, and for good reason; they make original, inspired music, and it's obvious from Torch +2 that their recent round of critical acclaim was well-deserved--if anything, it's probably safe to say that it's about TIME the world caught up to Traindodge. Maybe indie-rock can be saved? Maybe Traindodge can do it? Who knows. It certainly won't be for their lack of ability...
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.traindodge.com
Label Website: http://www.nokarma.com/
Why Traindodge let this record languish out of print for so long is a bit of a mystery, because this is truly a great little record. Though it's rough around the edges, there's a certain magical charm in their burgeoning style. While "The Raining Room" and "Sleeper Symptom" might seem a bit by-the-book, they're not bad songs; they both show the band capable of making quality art-punk, even if they're a little too indebted to the Dischord sound. Lead singer Jason Smith's ability to temper the quiet moments with screaming and the loud parts with soft, melodic singing is quite a treat, and though the rest of the band have the capacity to get rather rowdy (especially the drummer), their restraint is quite impressive--anything more than what they give would be too much, but anything less would not be enough. In an interesting twist, the two bonus tracks, "Low Shoulder" and "Kachina" are a few years older than the songs on Torch but these tracks don't sound as by-the-book as the EP songs, clearly showing that even in their early years, Traindodge had already developed and honed down their style.
"Mountaintown Fire Station" and "Cactus Flag," however, show that Traindodge had already started to formulate some really fascinating ideas. Both are slow, dark and heavy, but both are riddled with a touch of melodicism that makes them quite compelling. Best of all is "Cactus Flag," a soft, brooding eleven-minute epic prog-punk masterpiece; it predates The Mars Volta and it's a beautifully inspired slice of rock music. It starts off slow and it doesn't hurry much, but as it builds it grows even deeper, darker and more schizophrenic, finally ending in a climax of noise and synth-heavy prog-rock weirdness. One wonders what might have happened had the world been able to hear it.
These are good days for Traindodge, and for good reason; they make original, inspired music, and it's obvious from Torch +2 that their recent round of critical acclaim was well-deserved--if anything, it's probably safe to say that it's about TIME the world caught up to Traindodge. Maybe indie-rock can be saved? Maybe Traindodge can do it? Who knows. It certainly won't be for their lack of ability...
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.traindodge.com
Label Website: http://www.nokarma.com/
August 01, 2005
Voxtrot "Raised by Wolves"
From the first listen to Raised by Wolves, it's instantly obvious that Austin, Texas' Voxtrot take inspiration from two distinctive eras in British music: post-Sgt. Pepper's baroque pop and The Queen is Dead-era indie-pop. At some point in their thus-brief career, Voxtrot developed a deep-seeded understanding of the musical era of 20 years ago. The result is an ability to produce music that sound that sounds both original and authentic, you might think them a long-lost side project of The Housemartins.
Lead singer and international jetsetter Ramesh Srivastava leads his five-piece band through five songs loaded with cool pop production and a hint of class rarely seen in today's indie-rock scene. Gentle strings and subtle piano grace their songs, adding a mature, full sound without overwhelming the songs. The title track is pure ear candy, and is the definitive template for Voxtrot's style: catchy pop music, tempered with literate, melancholy lyrics. "Missing Pieces" and "Wrecking Force" are driving pop-rock numbers that betters The Bravery and Franz Ferdinand with a class and grace. "The Start of Something" is the missing link between The Smiths and Belle & Sebastian, and nowhere does Srivastava sing as sweetly as he does here. The brevity of Raised by Wolves is its only flaw; after being so quickly and thoroughly charmed, you'll definitely want more.
It's impossible to listen to Voxtrot without tapping your toes or smiling from enjoyment. As far as debuts go, Raised by Wolves proves to be a great debut, a wonderful introduction that establishes Voxtrot as a band with a lot to offer the world.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.voxtrot.net
Label Website: http://www.cultherorecords.com
Lead singer and international jetsetter Ramesh Srivastava leads his five-piece band through five songs loaded with cool pop production and a hint of class rarely seen in today's indie-rock scene. Gentle strings and subtle piano grace their songs, adding a mature, full sound without overwhelming the songs. The title track is pure ear candy, and is the definitive template for Voxtrot's style: catchy pop music, tempered with literate, melancholy lyrics. "Missing Pieces" and "Wrecking Force" are driving pop-rock numbers that betters The Bravery and Franz Ferdinand with a class and grace. "The Start of Something" is the missing link between The Smiths and Belle & Sebastian, and nowhere does Srivastava sing as sweetly as he does here. The brevity of Raised by Wolves is its only flaw; after being so quickly and thoroughly charmed, you'll definitely want more.
It's impossible to listen to Voxtrot without tapping your toes or smiling from enjoyment. As far as debuts go, Raised by Wolves proves to be a great debut, a wonderful introduction that establishes Voxtrot as a band with a lot to offer the world.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.voxtrot.net
Label Website: http://www.cultherorecords.com
Boredoms "Seadrum/House of Sun"
For nearly a decade, Yamatsuka Eye's project Boredoms tested, redefined, and utterly destroyed the boundaries of experimental music and noise rock. Though their once-prolific output has now reduced to a mere trickle. Seadrum/House of Sun, their first new record in six years, finds that the on-again/off-again status hasn't dampened the Boredoms' innovative nature, nor has artist growth been hampered. Though stripped down to a duo, the fullness of the two epic songs found here would lead you to think that Eye had gathered an orchestra of musicians.
The first portion of the album, "Seadrum," is the result of an ongoing recording experiment. Eye would set up a drum kit at the edge of the sea and would record the sound of the water crashing against the drums. That this project occured over the course of three years indicates a strong commitment to his vision. The song starts off with Yoshimi singing a blues-style number, sounding not unlike Nina Simone. It's very beautiful, but after a minute and a half, it gets even better, for the rumbling, frantic percussion breaks the tranquility, and for the next twenty three minutes, it's a beautiful, loud tribal drone of percussion, vocals, guitars and piano. The combination of these sounds replicates the sound of water crashing on the beach, and it's an imitation that's both instantly recognizable and amazingly accurate.
The second song, "House of Sun," is the opposite of the first. Whereas the previous track is loud, fast and beautiful in its reckless abandon, this song is peaceful, quiet and beautiful for its tranquility. "House of Sun" consists of nothing more than a simple duet between guitar and sitar. Eye weaves the two instruments together in such a way that, by song's end, makes the two instruments sound like the same thing. The song is unhurried and unassuming; an epic bliss-out that's clearly one of Eye's greatest compositions, and while it might not be particularly different than anything done by Acid Mothers Temple, to think a song as utterly breathtaking like this came from a band known for noise like Boredoms' makes the song's beauty even more savory.
If, as some suggest, Boredoms' day is coming to a close, then Seadrum/House of Sun is a beautiful--and powerful--farewell. If it indeed is not one of their farewell releases, then it's a welcome return to form and the clear hint that as The Boredoms nears its second decade, they have yet to peak creatively. Whatever their future may entail, it cannot be denied that Seadrum/House of Sun is one of Boredoms' greatest releases.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://wmg.jp/boredoms/
Label Website: http://www.vice-records.com
The first portion of the album, "Seadrum," is the result of an ongoing recording experiment. Eye would set up a drum kit at the edge of the sea and would record the sound of the water crashing against the drums. That this project occured over the course of three years indicates a strong commitment to his vision. The song starts off with Yoshimi singing a blues-style number, sounding not unlike Nina Simone. It's very beautiful, but after a minute and a half, it gets even better, for the rumbling, frantic percussion breaks the tranquility, and for the next twenty three minutes, it's a beautiful, loud tribal drone of percussion, vocals, guitars and piano. The combination of these sounds replicates the sound of water crashing on the beach, and it's an imitation that's both instantly recognizable and amazingly accurate.
The second song, "House of Sun," is the opposite of the first. Whereas the previous track is loud, fast and beautiful in its reckless abandon, this song is peaceful, quiet and beautiful for its tranquility. "House of Sun" consists of nothing more than a simple duet between guitar and sitar. Eye weaves the two instruments together in such a way that, by song's end, makes the two instruments sound like the same thing. The song is unhurried and unassuming; an epic bliss-out that's clearly one of Eye's greatest compositions, and while it might not be particularly different than anything done by Acid Mothers Temple, to think a song as utterly breathtaking like this came from a band known for noise like Boredoms' makes the song's beauty even more savory.
If, as some suggest, Boredoms' day is coming to a close, then Seadrum/House of Sun is a beautiful--and powerful--farewell. If it indeed is not one of their farewell releases, then it's a welcome return to form and the clear hint that as The Boredoms nears its second decade, they have yet to peak creatively. Whatever their future may entail, it cannot be denied that Seadrum/House of Sun is one of Boredoms' greatest releases.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://wmg.jp/boredoms/
Label Website: http://www.vice-records.com
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