Ahhhhh, Harvey Danger! You may remember them from such pop hits as "Flagpole Sitta" and...well...nothing else. See, back in that heady year of 1998, they were part of a very brief Power Pop revival, one that included bands like Third Eye Blind, Semisonic, Fastball and Vertical Horizon. Yeah, yeah, if you're old enough, you remember those songs, and you'll remember how they were overplayed. But if you go back and listen to them now, you'll discover something rather shocking: these songs are excellent. These bands wrote great songs in spite of their one-hit wonder status--and Harvey Danger was no exception.
But like these other bands, Harvey Danger's post-hit story is a little bit messy, and as you'll soon see, it caused the band to split. After releasing King James Version, an excellent record in every sense of the word, the band split, simply because...well, no one knew that they'd released a new record. But a well-received ten year reunion show prompted the band to consider reforming, leading them to record Little by Little.., the band's best record to date. It's a wonderful album--and to prove how good it is, they decided to give it away via download. It's a radical move, and one that's reaped them a great deal of attention--and rightly so. As you can see, Nelson has a lot to say, and it's an honor to present this brief but extensive interview with the man himself. It's insightful, it's telling, it's entertaining, and it's one of my favorite interviews to date.
If we could look back for a moment, what happened with King James Version? Could you describe some of the hassles that you had with the label at the time, and were these things responsible for Harvey Danger's break-up that followed?
The short answer is that the music business happened to it. Though I could tear open all the psychic wounds that have covered over that period in my mind, I think it best just to say that we signed up with the wrong label. Though, in all fairness, it wasn’t really their fault, exactly—not at first, anyway. Around the middle of 1998, when everything was going great guns with “Flagpole Sitta” and all we as a band could think about was how eager we were to get off the road, spread our wings, and make a new record (remember that Merrymakers was recorded in 1996, so by then it was very old for us), we started hearing about how some beverage company was buying some record company and how there was going to be some kind of merger or whatever. We thought very little of it because, frankly, we were too busy pretending that we weren’t really part of the music business because we preferred Pavement to Sugar Ray. But then, as we were making the second record, finally, in 1999, after 8 solid months of touring, the merger happened, our label was dissolved, and we had to spend almost two years wondering who owned our contract, which label would work with us, and, ultimately, how to get dropped so we could just put KJV (which we were and are fiercely proud of) out on Barsuk. It was a miserable time, easily the worst I’ve ever felt—all that success, tainted though it was by the cheapness of the inevitable one-hit wonder associations, felt like the big league dues we had to pay before we could drop what we felt like was a much more impressive and meaningful work on the world of “Flagpole” listeners/radio programmers/all-purpose haters. But it was not to be. By the time all the legal bullshit finally got sorted out, it was Fall of 2000, the radio and MTV had completed their transformation into Limp Bizkitry, and no one wanted to know about little HD anymore, industry-wise… which would have been fine if we hadn’t just spent so much time and effort immersed in that industry. It was just too heartbreaking, and none of us had the stamina to continue. We did a bit touring and got a lot of excellent press, but the prevailing sense was that the world had no idea KJV had even come out. Though it has gone on to be a legitimate cult record, and that is deeply gratifying, the anticlimax of its release was really what killed the band’s spirit. The body followed about seven months later. It was really sad.
What prompted you to rekindle the Harvey Danger torch? Was there a particular moment that made you think, "it's time...the world needs us!"?
I wish I felt like the world needed us! No, it’s way more like we decided that we needed the world, or rather, that we needed each other. There arose a shared conviction between me, Jeff, and Aaron that we still had work to do, that we could power through the angst of the past and make better music together than we could separately. That was all. I had worked with both Jeff and Aaron separately through the three years we were broken up, writing songs, sometimes doing impromptu performances with friends (I hosted a variety show called “All Things To All People” in Seattle for a couple of years, and we did a lot of stuff there). It was only a matter of time (and much, much hemming and hawing) before we all three tried to get some stuff going. Then, when I was in the throes of making my putative solo record (more on this below), we decided to take a couple of the songs we’d been working on into the studio, just for a day, just to get them down. They were “Wine, Women, and Song” and “I Missed It,” both of which wound up on Little By Little… (the latter is on the bonus disc). It just felt amazing and right, the way it hadn’t felt for years—either on my own in the studio or for the last few years of Harvey Danger. There was chemistry again. Ira from Nada Surf played drums. It was the day before The Long Winters were leaving on another tour, and I spent the whole time listening to those two songs. When I got back, I was pretty much resolved that no matter how we decided to do it, no matter what we called it or what form it took, the three of us were musically involved again. Fortunately, Jeff and Aaron felt the same. The 10th anniversary show we played in April of 2004 was what clinched it. It was an amazing sense of communion with the audience and each other, a line around the block, TV cameras, waterslides, laser tag, the whole thing. People flew in from all over the country. It was easily one of the highlights of my life. Though I’d met a lot of people while touring with the Long Winters who’d told me bashfully how much they missed Harvey Danger, and how much they loved King James Version, it didn’t really click until that night that there was a real audience out there who had a meaningful connection with the work we did, and not just the one song. Still, we decided to take it slowly. It wasn’t until we hooked up with Michael Welke, our new drummer, that it really made sense to get serious. The new record was an extension of the enthusiasm we rediscovered for playing together.
In visiting your fan forum, it seems as if your loyal and longtime fans are quick to dismiss 'the hit' and are even quicker to point out that there's more to Harvey Danger than that one moment seven years ago. Looking back, is it tempting to be dismissive or cynical about the success of "Flagpole Sitta?"
The fear isn’t that we’ll only ever be known for one song; that’s pretty much a certainty, since the circumstances that brought us to the national stage are unlikely ever to repeat themselves. The issue is that “Flagpole” belongs to the world (which, as The Smiths remind us, won’t listen) and the rest of the songs belong to us and the true fans. I think it’s the same with any band that has had a similar experience, but perhaps a bit more pronounced with us because “Flagpole Sitta” is kind of a stylistic anomaly among our other stuff—and certainly our new material. It’s always a little more satisfying when someone develops a relationship with the songs you know they had to seek out, whereas basically anyone in the world might have been exposed to “Flagpole.” With all that in mind, I’ve really come to terms with that song and its success. It’s well put together, catchy as hell, and it still makes me chuckle to think it was ever so freaking huge, since I still think the words are kind of subversive, at least for the commercial airwaves. And a surprising number of very cool people have expressed their admiration for what the song is really up to. Though I still have to leave the room most times it comes on the radio or jukebox or whatever, I’ve also started to enjoy playing it live—mainly because we now don’t have to do so every time we perform. There’s nothing like a hit to light up a room.
Have you been tempted to pull a Jacob Slichter and write a tell-all biography about your music biz experience? And, um, why haven't you? (Slichter is the drummer of Semisonic, who in 2004 published a very telling and often hilarious biography, So You Want To Be a Rock and Roll Star?)
It was actually Jake’s book that made me put away the 75 pages of detailed notes I had compiled with just such a project in mind. Not necessarily a tell-all, but a memoir. He did a great job with that book of his—though, it was really interesting to read his version of certain events at which I was actually physically present, and how different my perspective on them was (we toured with Semisonic for 3 weeks in ’98 at our mutual career peaks). I don’t know. It could happen. I sort of feel like making an effort to put all that stuff behind me rather than re-dredging it might be a more fruitful enterprise. Still, I appreciate the thought, and the tacit vote of confidence that comes with it.
From the very first notes of "Wine, Women & Song," it's obvious that Little by Little... heralds a new direction for Harvey Danger. Was it intentional that you made a mellower record--one with more intricate arrangements and a newfound prominence of piano--or were you just as surprised to find that this was the direction your muse decided to go?
It was definitely intentional on my part. I’d been trying to convince Jeff to play more piano for years, since “Pike St./Park Slope” had come together so nicely. He was reluctant, I think, because he associates it with his pre-rock period (childhood lessons and such). I just think he comes up with great, expressive piano parts, and that it would be interesting to try something different from what we’d grown accustomed to as a young band. It felt like a good challenge to confront. The main thing, though, in terms of the overall feel is that most of these songs were written in the living room of my apartment (where the piano lives), and therefore have a necessarily mellower sound—the sound of an apartment, where you can’t play too loud without pissing off the neighbors, as opposed to our previous records, which were written in basements and practice spaces, where you kind of want to piss off as many neighbors as possible. We’re just not like that anymore--though maybe we will be again. I know I’ve found myself reaching for This Year’s Model quite a bit lately, now that we’ve made our mellow, stately melodic record. The next batch of songs will likely be more rock.
The reasoning behind your decision to give away Little by Little is quite intriguing. At what point did you decide on such an unusual (at least for a much more well-known band like Harvey Danger) method of distribution? How has the reaction been so far; how many copies have been downloaded so far--and do you think this decision's helped?
The idea was hatched after we played a big successful showcase at SXSW just after we’d finished the record. We just couldn’t escape the conviction that none of the standard issue modes of being a band made sense to us. We don’t fit on majors and we don’t really fit on indies. We can’t do extensive touring, we’re not young and hot, and there’s weird baggage attached to our name. In addition, there’s the discomfort when working with labels of meeting other people’s expectations—even reasonable ones—and more to the point, their schedules. The main issue was that we wanted people to hear the record in a timely fashion, money be damned. We also reasoned that no matter what we did, we’d have to figure out some way of dealing with the—let’s call it skepticism (for charity’s sake)—that always plagues bands who try and make comebacks. The guys in Nada Surf dealt with it by 1) making their best record to date, and 2) touring their fucking asses off. We felt like we’d done #1, but for a variety of personal reasons, simply could not commit to doing #2. All of these factors were part of the decision. It also just feels weirdly right. And Jeff is a computer nerd, so he has really enjoyed masterminding the whole operation (with a little help from his friends). The key issue: We wanted to remove all obstacles to people hearing the record and developing a relationship with our music and our band. Working backwards from there, it wasn’t too hard to arrive at a free download model. Best of all, it seems to be working; by the time this gets printed, we’ll probably be sitting with around 100,000 downloads or so. And the hard copy version is also selling pretty well, especially in Seattle. We’ll be doing a bit of touring next year, so I guess that’ll be the real test, but for now, everything seems to be in its right place, to coin a phrase…
It's also rumored that you have a solo album waiting in the wings. What's the story behind that, who did you work with, and will it see the light of day any time soon?
In the three years that Harvey Danger was broken up, when I wasn’t busy touring with The Long Winters, I began no fewer than four solo or collaborative projects, all of which are in some stage of near-completion. They are, in no real order: 1) Sean Nelson and His Mortal Enemies—a collection of songs I’ve written alone and co-written with Peter Buck and Aaron from HD, and recorded with members of Centro-matic, Little Grizzly, and Okkervil River. Robyn Hitchcock also makes a cameo on one of the songs. 2) Nelson Sings Nilsson—an album of Harry Nilsson covers I’m making with Steve Fisk. 3) Society of the Golden West—a robot pop collaboration with Fisk and John Goodmanson (and just to give you a sense of how long we’ve been dicking around, this project actually pre-dates the Postal Service). 4) The Vernacular—me and Chris Walla making rock songs. I have no idea if or when any of this stuff will ever see the light of day. It’s complicated.
(At the risk of tooting my own horn, I’ve also been doing a lot of session work as a harmony singer. In the past few years, I’ve appeared on three Death Cab for Cutie records, as well as two by the Long Winters (duh), and one each by Nada Surf, The Decemberists, and Robyn Hitchcock. More to come. It’s really fun.)
Looking back over your experiences from the last eleven years, what advice would you give to young musicians and bands?
My/our experience is so bizarre that I kind of don’t feel qualified to give much advice. What I will say is that no force can destroy a band that knows what they want and who they are. It’s difficult sometimes to believe that the clichés of music can pertain to you, but they really can (and in many cases, they probably already do). My advice is to show up on time, keep challenging yourself, don’t ask/wait for anyone else’s permission to record or tour, and generally aim for self-sufficiency, because that’s the only thing that ends up being truly satisfying. And always bet on black…
Final question: so where have all the merrymakers gone?
Where, indeed! I think I saw them heading to your mom’s house…
Thanks, Sean!
Harvey Danger photo courtesy of Ryan Shierling
October 13, 2005
Mt. Egypt "Perspectives"
Mt. Egypt's second album, Perspectives, sure has annoyed me. The first time I listened to it, I played it on my stereo. I tried to listen to it while working on some other projects, but it bored me somethin' terrible. I was convinced that Mt. Egypt's Travis Graves was nothing more than a second-rate folkie singing pseudo-Neil Young songs in a Will Oldham kind of way. After all, such artists are a dime a dozen these days, especially with the whole "freak folk" thing being popular. So with such feelings in mind, I prepared to write this review. I put Perspectives on my discman, only to discover that this record wasn't nearly as bad as my first listen.
It only took one listen to "We Are Here" to realize that I'd been quite wrong about Perspectives. Graves sings with a hushed, quiet reserve, tempered with a gentle sensitivity that's rare for this particular musical style. Accompanied by subtle washes of guitar, piano and percussion , songs like "Yeah Man" and "Snow Through The Pass" are humble aural treats that come alive in a quite beautiful way in the headphones. "The Now Penguin" highlights this quite well--underneath Graves' singing, you'll find a beautiful piano and string arrangement--it's one that's missed if you don't listen to it without some concentration. The pace never changes; listening to Perspectives feels like a Mississippi porch on a humid Saturday night.
This highlights Perspectives' fatal flaw: the arrangements are subtle to the point of being nonexistent, and as such, it quickly gives the record a monotonous feel. It's unfortunate, though, because Perspectives is an otherwise lovely listen. One could say it's due to a poor mix, or one could say that Graves simply uses the same formula for his songwriting, but neither of those answers quite satisfy as to why Perspectives comes across the way it does. Still, if you can discern the differences, or you simply listen to it piecemeal, Perspectives is an enjoyable, touching listen.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.mtegypt.com
Label Website: http://www.recordcollectionmusic.com
It only took one listen to "We Are Here" to realize that I'd been quite wrong about Perspectives. Graves sings with a hushed, quiet reserve, tempered with a gentle sensitivity that's rare for this particular musical style. Accompanied by subtle washes of guitar, piano and percussion , songs like "Yeah Man" and "Snow Through The Pass" are humble aural treats that come alive in a quite beautiful way in the headphones. "The Now Penguin" highlights this quite well--underneath Graves' singing, you'll find a beautiful piano and string arrangement--it's one that's missed if you don't listen to it without some concentration. The pace never changes; listening to Perspectives feels like a Mississippi porch on a humid Saturday night.
This highlights Perspectives' fatal flaw: the arrangements are subtle to the point of being nonexistent, and as such, it quickly gives the record a monotonous feel. It's unfortunate, though, because Perspectives is an otherwise lovely listen. One could say it's due to a poor mix, or one could say that Graves simply uses the same formula for his songwriting, but neither of those answers quite satisfy as to why Perspectives comes across the way it does. Still, if you can discern the differences, or you simply listen to it piecemeal, Perspectives is an enjoyable, touching listen.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.mtegypt.com
Label Website: http://www.recordcollectionmusic.com
October 11, 2005
Why? "Elephant Eyelash"
Earlier this year, ex-cLOUDDEAD member Yoni Wolf (better known as Why?) released Sanddollars, an EP that strayed from the Anticon template by emphasizing live instrumentation over murky, mechanized beats and shoehorning Wolf’s stream-of-consciousness rants into verse/chorus format. It was arguably the first Anticon release since cLOUDDEAD’s breakup that you could sing along to, and it felt like a new vista had been opened up in Wolf’s songwriting. The musicians that helped Wolf record Sanddollars (brother Josiah Wolf, Doug McDiarmid and Matt Meldon) have since gelled into an honest-to-goodness backing band and recorded a full album collaboratively with him. If the transition that Wolf’s music made between his first solo album Oaklandazulasylum and Sanddollars was like a black-and-white movie being colorized, then his new album Elephant Eyelash is like that same movie getting the IMAX treatment.
Whenever a critic says that an album “rewards repeated listens,” I usually interpret it as a sneaky way of saying that it sucks, or that I’ll have to force myself to like it. In the case of Elephant Eyelash, though, multiple listens on an excellent stereo system are absolutely necessary. Even though Wolf sings more than he raps, he still delivers his lyrics rapidly enough to induce whiplash. If you use this record merely as background music, you’ll think that he’s just spitting out nonsense when, in reality, he’s using surreal images and odd analogies to say relatable (and often poignant) things. Wolf’s backing band matches him every step of the way, supplying backdrops that are just as layered and indelible as his lyrics. On “The Hoofs,” he sings, “There’s something new in the foreground/in a poster of some Asian mountains/that says ‘patience’ in the funky italics,” and it makes complete sense. Such attention to detail is what makes this album great.
Opener “Crushed Bones” begins with brushed drums, mellow keyboards and finger-picked acoustic guitars. Like most emcees, Wolf lets out a few spoken exhortations before the first verse. Instead of rapping, though, he unleashes a gorgeous falsetto and starts singing about the changes his personality has undergone through the years, placed in the context of changing fashion trends --- from “navy blue hoodies and khakis” to “fishnet hats and canvas shoes.” Halfway through, the music changes key and gain intensity. At the song’s climax, someone starts punching instruments out of the mix, and Wolf briefly switches from singing back to rapping. When he resumes singing, the song quickly reverts back to the placid state in which it began before ending once and for all. The song’s parabolic structure is what makes it memorable, despite the absence of a strong hook.
“Yo Yo Bye Bye” is one of many songs on Elephant Eyelash that examines the decay of a relationship. It begins with Wolf talking to his girlfriend on someone else’s cell phone during a sound check in San Antonio. He laments her frigidity in one line (“you act like a slut but you‘re really a freezer“), only to point the finger back at himself in the next (“I’m f*ckin’ cold like a DQ blizzard”). The song reaches its apex, though, when he ditches the similes and simply speaks his mind: “We have to change if we’re gonna stay together.” The rhythm track switches from turntable scratching to live drumming, a tactic that underscores the confusion Wolf expresses in his lyrics; meanwhile, watery piano chords bring out the melancholy in his voice. Wolf addresses his grievances again four songs later on “Gemini (Birthday Song).” Against chiming guitars, wheezing synthesizers and weepy pedal steel, he laments the lack of physical intimacy in his relationship: “When I ask you to kiss my pulse/You offer to start the shower.” This time, though, he’s got a Greek chorus repeating his lyrics to him at crucial instances. Four songs later (“Whispers Into the Other”), he gets fed up and shakes off his dependency on her. In a strangely assertive and soulful voice, he issues his parting shot: “I don’t want to dance with your shadow no more!”
When Wolf isn’t venting about girl trouble, he’s pondering his own mortality. Elephant Eyelash closes with a particularly morbid one-two punch. “Act Five” revolves around the lament, “All the people who taught me card tricks are dying/I’ve been trying to get my pop’s good looks off from old snapshots.” Wolf wails against a backdrop of swelling drum rolls, piercing recorders and martial acoustic guitars. It’s a more dramatic and eloquent reflection on death than anything Phil Elvrum’s done since the Microphones’ Mount Eerie. Then, there’s “Light Leaves,” which Wolf spends planning his own funeral: “I don’t want no casket/No saddle/No see-through plastic mask!”
Although Wolf’s lyrics take center stage throughout the album, his backing band seriously upstages him on “Fall Saddles.” Wolf’s lyrics about listening to old audio letters from people he once knew are as vivid and reflective as ever. However, the music goes through SEVEN different permutations in less than three minutes: funereal horn blurts straight out of a Neutral Milk Hotel record, a brief homage to the Beatles’ “Strawberry Fields Forever” and a fuzz-rock blowout are just three of them. If Wolf had attempted to make a song like this on his own, it probably would’ve been a mess --- check out the album he did under the Reaching Quiet name if you don’t believe me. The only time the band’s arrangements falter is, ironically, on the remake of Sanddollars‘ title track, during which they tack on an extra verse that feels…well, tacked-on!
That quibble aside, Elephant Eyelash should completely silence anyone who doubted Wolf’s ability to find his own voice after the breakup of cLOUDDEAD. Not only has his writing become consistently incisive, but his singing has also grown by leaps and bounds. You’d never think a voice as thin and nasal as his could hit the notes that it does until you hear these songs. If you can appreciate hip-hop and indie-pop equally, and you need some good music to get over that former special someone with, this album was made for you. Get thee hence to the record store!
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.anticon.com/a-why.htm
Label Website: http://www.anticon.com
Whenever a critic says that an album “rewards repeated listens,” I usually interpret it as a sneaky way of saying that it sucks, or that I’ll have to force myself to like it. In the case of Elephant Eyelash, though, multiple listens on an excellent stereo system are absolutely necessary. Even though Wolf sings more than he raps, he still delivers his lyrics rapidly enough to induce whiplash. If you use this record merely as background music, you’ll think that he’s just spitting out nonsense when, in reality, he’s using surreal images and odd analogies to say relatable (and often poignant) things. Wolf’s backing band matches him every step of the way, supplying backdrops that are just as layered and indelible as his lyrics. On “The Hoofs,” he sings, “There’s something new in the foreground/in a poster of some Asian mountains/that says ‘patience’ in the funky italics,” and it makes complete sense. Such attention to detail is what makes this album great.
Opener “Crushed Bones” begins with brushed drums, mellow keyboards and finger-picked acoustic guitars. Like most emcees, Wolf lets out a few spoken exhortations before the first verse. Instead of rapping, though, he unleashes a gorgeous falsetto and starts singing about the changes his personality has undergone through the years, placed in the context of changing fashion trends --- from “navy blue hoodies and khakis” to “fishnet hats and canvas shoes.” Halfway through, the music changes key and gain intensity. At the song’s climax, someone starts punching instruments out of the mix, and Wolf briefly switches from singing back to rapping. When he resumes singing, the song quickly reverts back to the placid state in which it began before ending once and for all. The song’s parabolic structure is what makes it memorable, despite the absence of a strong hook.
“Yo Yo Bye Bye” is one of many songs on Elephant Eyelash that examines the decay of a relationship. It begins with Wolf talking to his girlfriend on someone else’s cell phone during a sound check in San Antonio. He laments her frigidity in one line (“you act like a slut but you‘re really a freezer“), only to point the finger back at himself in the next (“I’m f*ckin’ cold like a DQ blizzard”). The song reaches its apex, though, when he ditches the similes and simply speaks his mind: “We have to change if we’re gonna stay together.” The rhythm track switches from turntable scratching to live drumming, a tactic that underscores the confusion Wolf expresses in his lyrics; meanwhile, watery piano chords bring out the melancholy in his voice. Wolf addresses his grievances again four songs later on “Gemini (Birthday Song).” Against chiming guitars, wheezing synthesizers and weepy pedal steel, he laments the lack of physical intimacy in his relationship: “When I ask you to kiss my pulse/You offer to start the shower.” This time, though, he’s got a Greek chorus repeating his lyrics to him at crucial instances. Four songs later (“Whispers Into the Other”), he gets fed up and shakes off his dependency on her. In a strangely assertive and soulful voice, he issues his parting shot: “I don’t want to dance with your shadow no more!”
When Wolf isn’t venting about girl trouble, he’s pondering his own mortality. Elephant Eyelash closes with a particularly morbid one-two punch. “Act Five” revolves around the lament, “All the people who taught me card tricks are dying/I’ve been trying to get my pop’s good looks off from old snapshots.” Wolf wails against a backdrop of swelling drum rolls, piercing recorders and martial acoustic guitars. It’s a more dramatic and eloquent reflection on death than anything Phil Elvrum’s done since the Microphones’ Mount Eerie. Then, there’s “Light Leaves,” which Wolf spends planning his own funeral: “I don’t want no casket/No saddle/No see-through plastic mask!”
Although Wolf’s lyrics take center stage throughout the album, his backing band seriously upstages him on “Fall Saddles.” Wolf’s lyrics about listening to old audio letters from people he once knew are as vivid and reflective as ever. However, the music goes through SEVEN different permutations in less than three minutes: funereal horn blurts straight out of a Neutral Milk Hotel record, a brief homage to the Beatles’ “Strawberry Fields Forever” and a fuzz-rock blowout are just three of them. If Wolf had attempted to make a song like this on his own, it probably would’ve been a mess --- check out the album he did under the Reaching Quiet name if you don’t believe me. The only time the band’s arrangements falter is, ironically, on the remake of Sanddollars‘ title track, during which they tack on an extra verse that feels…well, tacked-on!
That quibble aside, Elephant Eyelash should completely silence anyone who doubted Wolf’s ability to find his own voice after the breakup of cLOUDDEAD. Not only has his writing become consistently incisive, but his singing has also grown by leaps and bounds. You’d never think a voice as thin and nasal as his could hit the notes that it does until you hear these songs. If you can appreciate hip-hop and indie-pop equally, and you need some good music to get over that former special someone with, this album was made for you. Get thee hence to the record store!
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.anticon.com/a-why.htm
Label Website: http://www.anticon.com
Wooden Wand & The Vanishing Voice "Buck Dharma"
I am going to be straight up and say that the Wooden Wand story makes no sense. In my humble opinion, it comes across like a put-on, and as such, it really doesn't have much to do with the actual MUSIC. This New York collective fits in nicely with the Devendra/"freak folk" scene, because certain characteristics certainly apply to Wooden Wand & The Vanishing Voice: a weird back story, odd music that's built on a folk foundation, but sung with, ahem, "unique" voices, odd musical arrangements and general weirdness. These bands often go to great pains to align themselves with psychedelic folk and rock, usually seeking inspiration with obscure folk artists and bands of the late 60s and early 70s.
Buck Dharma is Wooden Wand's latest release, but "latest" is a relative term. First of all, this band releaes alot of things, in the form of Cd-R's and vinyl-only records, as well as tour-only albums. Secondly, Buck Dharma is actually a reissue of a limited-edition two-LP set from a few years ago. It's easy to see how this record worked as a vinyl release, because it's somewhat of a difficult listen. Most of the nine songs on the album extend well over the five minute mark, with two of them being ten minutes long. On vinyl, there would be a nice division of tracks, to be appreciated in bite-sized listening portions, but on CD, it's just one long, hazy jam session. Sadly, songs like the pretty "I Am The One I Am & He Is The Caretaker of My Heart" and "Arisen From The Ashes" are buried treasures underneath a pile of less captivating, repetitve jam-rock numbers like "Satya Sai Scupetty Plays 'Reverse Jam Band'" and "Owl Fowl," long, monotonous numbers that simply test the listener's patience.
Though their live performances are much more traditionally folk-based, and they're capable of making pretty folk-rock, Buck Dharma is clearly a moment of free-rock experimentation for this 'freak-folk' band. Whether or not it's something you'll dig depends on your tolerance. Perhaps, though, Buck Dharma is a better on vinyl than a CD? Perhaps. Buck Dharma is a relic that's recommended only for the faithful.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://woodenwand.sinkhole.net/
Label Website: http://www.5rc.com
Buck Dharma is Wooden Wand's latest release, but "latest" is a relative term. First of all, this band releaes alot of things, in the form of Cd-R's and vinyl-only records, as well as tour-only albums. Secondly, Buck Dharma is actually a reissue of a limited-edition two-LP set from a few years ago. It's easy to see how this record worked as a vinyl release, because it's somewhat of a difficult listen. Most of the nine songs on the album extend well over the five minute mark, with two of them being ten minutes long. On vinyl, there would be a nice division of tracks, to be appreciated in bite-sized listening portions, but on CD, it's just one long, hazy jam session. Sadly, songs like the pretty "I Am The One I Am & He Is The Caretaker of My Heart" and "Arisen From The Ashes" are buried treasures underneath a pile of less captivating, repetitve jam-rock numbers like "Satya Sai Scupetty Plays 'Reverse Jam Band'" and "Owl Fowl," long, monotonous numbers that simply test the listener's patience.
Though their live performances are much more traditionally folk-based, and they're capable of making pretty folk-rock, Buck Dharma is clearly a moment of free-rock experimentation for this 'freak-folk' band. Whether or not it's something you'll dig depends on your tolerance. Perhaps, though, Buck Dharma is a better on vinyl than a CD? Perhaps. Buck Dharma is a relic that's recommended only for the faithful.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://woodenwand.sinkhole.net/
Label Website: http://www.5rc.com
October 10, 2005
Explosions In The Sky "How Strange, Innocence"
Back in the summer of 2000, I took a road trip to Austin. While I was there, I ran into this kid I knew named Munaf. He lived in Midland, but I would often tap his band, Satori, as openers for some of the shows I booked, and when he was in town, he'd come by and hang out at the record store I worked at. But both the club and the record store closed down, and I hadn't seen any of those guys since. So it was a happy occasion for me to run into him. I asked him what he was doing, and he told me that he and some of the guys had moved to Austin and had started a band. He said they'd just released their debut album, and he just happened to have a copy of it. He proudly handed me the record, saying that he hoped I'd like it. He gave me a hug, thanked me for the support--again repeating that he hoped I liked his new record--and promised me they'd play Lubbock soon. I didn't have a way to listen to it at the time, but I put it on my pile of records from that weekend and anxiously looked forward to hearing it. Sure enough, I got home and listened to his record--How Strange, Innocence--and loved it. It didn't really sound like Satori--but what it did sound like was much, much better than what I'd expected.
I never understood why they chose to keep the record out of print. It seemed that they were embarassed by the record, which isn't really understandable. It's a great record, and it's not the tentative, embarassing baby-steps as they might think. Yeah, it's a debut record, and debut records do have a tendency to be embarassing, but that's most certainly not the case with How Strange, Innocence. True, the band's sound would become much more cinematic over the next year, and their second album, Those Who Tell The Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell The Truth Shall Live Forever didn't seem like that much of a progression--it seemed to merely expand on their debut's strong points--strong points which, sadly, very few have actually heard. I've heard that so sought after was this record, it wasn't uncommon to find it selling for hundreds of dollars on eBay. I could never think to part with my copy--because, to me, it's worth so much more.
This reissue rights that wrong, and it's about time. For those of you who are experiencing this record for the first time, you won't discover anything particularly revelatory; though it's been lost for nearly half a decade, it fits in nicely with their other releases, and there are some great, beautiful moments of utterly breathtaking proportions. Personally, I've loved "Snow and Lights" and "Look Into The Air" for ages. It's on those songs that the band started to blend the emptiness of West Texas into something grand--the initial baby-steps of what was to come next. Explosions In The Sky was born a leader--at the time of How Strange, Innocence, the band had only recently formed--and these early recordings rarely, if ever, betray their young age, and it paves the way for what would come next. The only thing the album doesn't do is tell you just how far their music would--and could, and can, and will--take them.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.explosionsinthesky.com
Label Website: http://www.temporaryresidence.com
I never understood why they chose to keep the record out of print. It seemed that they were embarassed by the record, which isn't really understandable. It's a great record, and it's not the tentative, embarassing baby-steps as they might think. Yeah, it's a debut record, and debut records do have a tendency to be embarassing, but that's most certainly not the case with How Strange, Innocence. True, the band's sound would become much more cinematic over the next year, and their second album, Those Who Tell The Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell The Truth Shall Live Forever didn't seem like that much of a progression--it seemed to merely expand on their debut's strong points--strong points which, sadly, very few have actually heard. I've heard that so sought after was this record, it wasn't uncommon to find it selling for hundreds of dollars on eBay. I could never think to part with my copy--because, to me, it's worth so much more.
This reissue rights that wrong, and it's about time. For those of you who are experiencing this record for the first time, you won't discover anything particularly revelatory; though it's been lost for nearly half a decade, it fits in nicely with their other releases, and there are some great, beautiful moments of utterly breathtaking proportions. Personally, I've loved "Snow and Lights" and "Look Into The Air" for ages. It's on those songs that the band started to blend the emptiness of West Texas into something grand--the initial baby-steps of what was to come next. Explosions In The Sky was born a leader--at the time of How Strange, Innocence, the band had only recently formed--and these early recordings rarely, if ever, betray their young age, and it paves the way for what would come next. The only thing the album doesn't do is tell you just how far their music would--and could, and can, and will--take them.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.explosionsinthesky.com
Label Website: http://www.temporaryresidence.com
Richard Swift "The Richard Swift Collection, Volume 1: The Novelist/Walking Without Effort"
For the past year, some friends of mine have talked endlessly of the brilliance of Richard Swift. These people toured California with him, and ever since that mini-tour, they've sung his praises, always saying that he's one of today's top songwriting talents. An enthusiastic boast, to be sure--but it's also one that definitely piques curiosity. Of course, there's been one major obstacle in finding out whether or not this is so--availability. How can you prove your genius if no one can hear your music? The Richard Swift Collection, Volume One is a quick introduction for those of you (and by 'those,' I mean 99.9%) who might have missed him the first time around. The two-disc set collects his two previous efforts, Walking Without Effort and The Novelist. Though both records are somewhat brief, the decision was made to issue them individually, because they are two distinctively different records.
Walking Without Effort is a rather straightforward affair. Though not as distinctive or as unique as The Novelist, it is also a fine collection of songs. This album shows Swift's skills are indebted to musicians like Elton John and Randy Newman--clever and heartfelt, with a nice balance between lyrical style and musical accompaniment, simple songs with the barest of essentials. The songs are mellow, somewhat sad, and are highlighted by Swift's one-too-many-beers-and-cigarettes-last-night voice. Songs like "Half Lit" and "As I Go" are accentuated by excellent horn sections, but the arrangements never overwhelm the songwriting. So subtle are these arrangements that to listen to Walking Without Effort on headphones is a quietly joyous affair, because the album gains a new perspective from such a close listening experience. At times, though, on "Alone," "Beneath," and "Not Wasting Time," one feels that Swift is wanting to expand his music outward, into new directions, yet he's not quite sure what he wants to do next.
That experimentation would be found on his follow-up record, The Novelist. It's a brief affair, with eight songs in eighteen minutes, but don't let the record's brevity fool you. Swift is a masterful musician, and he is quite adept at utilizing every second of that brief amout of time, and The Novelist is a full-bodied collection that feels much bigger and much longer than it really is. An experiment of sorts, these songs are all buit around song structures and instrumental arrangements of the 1920s and 30s. It's an interesting concept, and it's quite rewarding. But it's not that he's making "retro" music--he's simply applying compositional ideas and arrangements from the past to more contemporary songwriting. "Lonely Night" has a jazz accompaniment, complete with ragtime piano, trumpet and gorgeous harmonies. Then there's the simply wonderful ukelele on "Sadsong Street." But it's not all a recreation of the past; "Lady Day" blends a drum machine with gorgeous Cole Porter-style songwriting,
The Richard Swift Collection, Volume 1: The Novelist/Walking Without Effort is an excellent introduction to the music of Richard Swift. Secretly Canadian has once again performed a great service by pulling him from painful obscurity and introducing him to the world at large. If these records constitute Swift making music on his own for a limited audience, the notion of what he'll do now that he has an attentive audience is quite appealing. A true talent, this Swift.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.richardswift.us
Label Website: http://www.secretlycanadian.com
Walking Without Effort is a rather straightforward affair. Though not as distinctive or as unique as The Novelist, it is also a fine collection of songs. This album shows Swift's skills are indebted to musicians like Elton John and Randy Newman--clever and heartfelt, with a nice balance between lyrical style and musical accompaniment, simple songs with the barest of essentials. The songs are mellow, somewhat sad, and are highlighted by Swift's one-too-many-beers-and-cigarettes-last-night voice. Songs like "Half Lit" and "As I Go" are accentuated by excellent horn sections, but the arrangements never overwhelm the songwriting. So subtle are these arrangements that to listen to Walking Without Effort on headphones is a quietly joyous affair, because the album gains a new perspective from such a close listening experience. At times, though, on "Alone," "Beneath," and "Not Wasting Time," one feels that Swift is wanting to expand his music outward, into new directions, yet he's not quite sure what he wants to do next.
That experimentation would be found on his follow-up record, The Novelist. It's a brief affair, with eight songs in eighteen minutes, but don't let the record's brevity fool you. Swift is a masterful musician, and he is quite adept at utilizing every second of that brief amout of time, and The Novelist is a full-bodied collection that feels much bigger and much longer than it really is. An experiment of sorts, these songs are all buit around song structures and instrumental arrangements of the 1920s and 30s. It's an interesting concept, and it's quite rewarding. But it's not that he's making "retro" music--he's simply applying compositional ideas and arrangements from the past to more contemporary songwriting. "Lonely Night" has a jazz accompaniment, complete with ragtime piano, trumpet and gorgeous harmonies. Then there's the simply wonderful ukelele on "Sadsong Street." But it's not all a recreation of the past; "Lady Day" blends a drum machine with gorgeous Cole Porter-style songwriting,
The Richard Swift Collection, Volume 1: The Novelist/Walking Without Effort is an excellent introduction to the music of Richard Swift. Secretly Canadian has once again performed a great service by pulling him from painful obscurity and introducing him to the world at large. If these records constitute Swift making music on his own for a limited audience, the notion of what he'll do now that he has an attentive audience is quite appealing. A true talent, this Swift.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.richardswift.us
Label Website: http://www.secretlycanadian.com
The Life and Times "Suburban Hymns"
Somewhere in Kansas City, the city that Allen Epley calls home, there’s a coterie of hipsters who would look at me like I had three heads if I told them that my first exposure to his music was through his current band, the Life and Times. They’d probably have the same reaction that I had when I met people who didn’t know who Stephen Malkmus was until he formed the Jicks. However, there’s an advantage to not knowing much about their previous bands: it allows one to evaluate their current music on its own terms, rather than unfairly comparing it to the music they made during their so-called “glory days.” Thus, just as my friend Sophia is able to appreciate Malkmus’ Face the Truth as the worthy album it is without the scepter of Pavement hovering over her head, I can listen to the Life and Times’ debut album Suburban Hymns without being forced to compare it to Shiner. Frankly, I think people like us ought to be envied.
It must be said, though, that the music Epley makes with the Life and Times is basically a streamlining of the sound that Shiner began to crystallize on their final album, 2001’s awesome The Egg. It’s a sound that I like to call “shoegaze on steroids.” There are a number of other bands I would give this description to (Hum, Failure, Electro Group) but, since most of them are either defunct or take way too long to make albums, I’m willing to call the Life and Times its leading practitioners.
Opening track “My Last Hostage” serves as a sonic template for everything that comes after it. Epley’s guitar plucks out high-pitched arpeggios, so drenched in distortion and reverb that the notes quickly blur into each other. His slightly raspy croon draws out each syllable so slowly that his words literally pull against the brisk tempo of the song. Synthesizers lurk and swoop over him as he sings. While Epley gazes at his shoes, his rhythm section supplies the steroids. Eric Albert outlines the actual chord progression with a muscular bass line, while Chris Metcalf drums with the swagger and force of Led Zeppelin’s John Bonham. These two are the Life and Times’ secret weapon, ensuring at all times that Epley’s dreamy, diffuse songs rock way harder than they have any right to.
Although Suburban Hymns is consistent almost to a fault, a couple of tracks do stand out. “Muscle Cars” sounds a bit like Interpol gone dub: the verses ride a dark, five-note guitar melody, while the stop/start drumming is run through various studio filters at seemingly random intervals. “Thrill Ride” is the closest that the band comes to making a ballad; the lugubrious music sharply contrasts the excitement Epley sings about in the chorus (“blasting my way out/bombs fall around me”). On the verses of “Shift Your Gaze,” Epley’s voice blends in so thoroughly with his guitar that the music assumes trance-like properties. It’s the perfect backdrop for the lyrics, in which Epley selflessly submits to a distant other. Last but not least, there’s “Skateland,” which is my personal favorite. Not only does this song boast the album’s best bass line, but the lyrics catalogue adolescent memories with haiku-like economy (“these southern days/radio station/black rollerskates”).
This album isn’t perfect: a couple of songs are short on hooks, and “Mea Culpa” is too long. However, at 42 minutes, the Life and Times don’t give themselves enough time to make any major screw-ups. Suburban Hymns is a solid --- often excellent --- album by a band good enough to render its members’ pedigrees completely irrelevant. If their next album can maintain this level of quality and supply a bit more stylistic diversity, Epley will have another classic album in his hands.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.thelifeandtimes.com
Label Website: http://www.desotorecords.com
It must be said, though, that the music Epley makes with the Life and Times is basically a streamlining of the sound that Shiner began to crystallize on their final album, 2001’s awesome The Egg. It’s a sound that I like to call “shoegaze on steroids.” There are a number of other bands I would give this description to (Hum, Failure, Electro Group) but, since most of them are either defunct or take way too long to make albums, I’m willing to call the Life and Times its leading practitioners.
Opening track “My Last Hostage” serves as a sonic template for everything that comes after it. Epley’s guitar plucks out high-pitched arpeggios, so drenched in distortion and reverb that the notes quickly blur into each other. His slightly raspy croon draws out each syllable so slowly that his words literally pull against the brisk tempo of the song. Synthesizers lurk and swoop over him as he sings. While Epley gazes at his shoes, his rhythm section supplies the steroids. Eric Albert outlines the actual chord progression with a muscular bass line, while Chris Metcalf drums with the swagger and force of Led Zeppelin’s John Bonham. These two are the Life and Times’ secret weapon, ensuring at all times that Epley’s dreamy, diffuse songs rock way harder than they have any right to.
Although Suburban Hymns is consistent almost to a fault, a couple of tracks do stand out. “Muscle Cars” sounds a bit like Interpol gone dub: the verses ride a dark, five-note guitar melody, while the stop/start drumming is run through various studio filters at seemingly random intervals. “Thrill Ride” is the closest that the band comes to making a ballad; the lugubrious music sharply contrasts the excitement Epley sings about in the chorus (“blasting my way out/bombs fall around me”). On the verses of “Shift Your Gaze,” Epley’s voice blends in so thoroughly with his guitar that the music assumes trance-like properties. It’s the perfect backdrop for the lyrics, in which Epley selflessly submits to a distant other. Last but not least, there’s “Skateland,” which is my personal favorite. Not only does this song boast the album’s best bass line, but the lyrics catalogue adolescent memories with haiku-like economy (“these southern days/radio station/black rollerskates”).
This album isn’t perfect: a couple of songs are short on hooks, and “Mea Culpa” is too long. However, at 42 minutes, the Life and Times don’t give themselves enough time to make any major screw-ups. Suburban Hymns is a solid --- often excellent --- album by a band good enough to render its members’ pedigrees completely irrelevant. If their next album can maintain this level of quality and supply a bit more stylistic diversity, Epley will have another classic album in his hands.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.thelifeandtimes.com
Label Website: http://www.desotorecords.com
October 05, 2005
El Ten Eleven "El Ten Eleven"
Instrumental music is always a dicey proposition; you’ve got to be original, you’ve got to sound good, and, most of all, you better know what the hell you're doing, else you'll wind up simply being boring. Luckily, the LA-based duo El Ten Eleven excel at all of the above. Having played together in The Incredible Moses Leroy, guitarist Kristian Dunn and drummer Tim Fogarty have a long-standing creative relationship, and this musical bond really shows. The songs on El Ten Eleven, the duo’s debut album, harmonize in a way not unlike many vocal bands, and it's not hard to understand why the two chose to continue their collaboration.
While many instrumental groups tend to favor a "more is more" approach to their songwriting, El Ten Eleven have an easy, gentle style that's really quite charming--a style that's light and pretty, but never to the point of being lightweight or boring. Your might not fall asleep by listening to "Sorry About Your Irony" or "1969," but they will mellow you out and make you feel comfortable after a long day of work. Don't think that being easy on the ears means that the music doesn't contain impressive musical ability, because Dunn is an excellent guitar player; just one listen to the intricate work on “My Only Swerving” or “Connie,” and you’ll quickly realize you’re listening to a very accomplished guitar player. Nothing on El Ten Eleven is too complicated, though; it’s simply a pleasant-sounding record that’s a treat to listen to.
El Ten Eleven is a lovely little record; it’s brief, but in its brevity, it’s extremely succinct, and it proves that this duo’s long-term collaboration is one that can produce beautiful, pretty music.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.elteneleven.com
Label Website: http://www.bar-none.com
While many instrumental groups tend to favor a "more is more" approach to their songwriting, El Ten Eleven have an easy, gentle style that's really quite charming--a style that's light and pretty, but never to the point of being lightweight or boring. Your might not fall asleep by listening to "Sorry About Your Irony" or "1969," but they will mellow you out and make you feel comfortable after a long day of work. Don't think that being easy on the ears means that the music doesn't contain impressive musical ability, because Dunn is an excellent guitar player; just one listen to the intricate work on “My Only Swerving” or “Connie,” and you’ll quickly realize you’re listening to a very accomplished guitar player. Nothing on El Ten Eleven is too complicated, though; it’s simply a pleasant-sounding record that’s a treat to listen to.
El Ten Eleven is a lovely little record; it’s brief, but in its brevity, it’s extremely succinct, and it proves that this duo’s long-term collaboration is one that can produce beautiful, pretty music.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.elteneleven.com
Label Website: http://www.bar-none.com
Xiu Xiu "La Foret"
Three years after its release, I still believe that Xiu Xiu’s Knife Play is one of the most lyrically depressing and musically creative albums I’ve ever heard. Frontman Jamie Stewart sang tales of boredom, alienation, disease and suicide in an unfathomably histrionic tenor, amid harsh and disjointed backdrops that borrowed from industrial music, gamelan and torch balladry. The album made me queasy the first time I heard it, but that didn’t stop me from listening to it again and again. Although Xiu Xiu’s subsequent albums were all worthy, they didn’t pack nearly as much of a punch as Knife Play did. Their sophomore album A Promise tried so hard to be minimalist that it just ended up sounding undercooked. Fag Patrol‘s acoustic remakes of previously released Xiu Xiu songs didn’t interest me much, as part of Xiu Xiu’s appeal was their unconventional approach to instrumentation. Although fourth album Fabulous Muscles was an improvement, it too boasted too many remakes, and some of its songs were marred by clunky arrangements. I wondered if Xiu Xiu would EVER deliver another album that was solid from start to finish. With their latest album La Foret, I no longer need to wonder.
A number of songs on La Foret come across as the products of the failed experiments on previous albums. With its insistent kick drum and jarring, out-of-tune piano playing, “Mousey Toy” sounds like a close cousin of “Walnut House,” my least favorite song on A Promise. Fortunately, “Mousey Toy” has a stronger melody and a much more discernible structure. “Rose of Sharon (Grey Ghost Version)” is rare in that it’s a remake of a previously released Xiu Xiu song that actually IMPROVES upon the original version. Its droning harmoniums stretch the chord progression out until the song seems to stop time itself, while Jamie’s wobbly voice slowly rises to operatic levels of grandeur and intensity. Last but not least, there’s “Saturn,” whose introduction alone sounds like it was recorded in a war zone: flat-handed keyboards produce jarring bursts of dissonance, while the drum programming imitates the blast of machine guns. Jamie’s tense whispers are barely audible underneath the cacophony. The lyrics refer to our President by name and include a veiled reference to the Abu Ghraib scandal, but the music and the vocal delivery is what truly makes the song a more effective antiwar screed than Fabulous Muscles’ spoken-word disaster “Support Our Troops.”
The songs on La Foret revolve around the themes of power and anger. Jamie spends opening track “Clover” begging his antagonist not to abuse the power that he/she has over him: “Please please please/don’t don’t don’t/walk like my single hope.” The next song, “Muppet Face,” is a lurid account of someone (possibly a child, if the youthful giggling underneath the rhythm track is any indication) being raped at gunpoint. “Mousey Toy” finds Jamie crumbling under an antagonist’s seductive spell: “How did I end up here curled up on this couch? Where did you learn such a bold wink, whisking me off to your bedroom?”
Subsequent songs find Jamie taking a more aggressive tone. On “Pox,” his voice sounds paralyzed by fright, but the force with which he strums his guitar underscores the hatred in his lyrics. “Jesus is wondering,” he sings in the chorus, “if even He can love you.” Later on in the song, he tells his antagonist’s “sickening daughters” that “community college is waiting for them,” as if such a fate is even WORSE than eternal damnation. I don’t know if the people Jamie’s singing to or about actually exist, but the vividness of his lyrics make the Ecstacy-fueled biker in “Baby Captain,” the fat gamer trying in vain to cuddle up next to her cat in “Ale,” and the “bag lady’s son/beating off to the escort pages” in “Yellow Raspberry” feel real to me. When Jamie asks these people at album’s end, “What has changed as you tell the mirror hello?,” I already know the answer…and it ain’t good.
Throughout La Foret, Xiu Xiu creates musical backdrops that are equally as evocative as the lyrics. “Bog People” is a pessimist’s anthem (the chorus goes, “Why ask? Is there any reason? Why ask if it will just let up?”) that pits Jamie’s bright autoharp against band mate Caralee McElroy’s hissing percussion. The result sounds like a Celtic jig performed in the middle of a factory performing at full capacity. “Dangerous You Shouldn’t Be Here” is a stark lament for a friend who died from drowning. Like the metaphorical witch who “has come from under the ocean and…snatched my baby by the crook of her jaw,” the incidental sounds on this song rise from underneath Jamie‘s catatonic voice and guitar, only to disappear when they reach full volume. “Ale” does minimalism the right way, using only clarinet, percussion and voice to create a song that feels complete despite the spare instrumentation.
It took longer than I thought it would, but Xiu Xiu has finally lived up to the potential displayed on their debut album. Every song on La Foret is fully realized and essential --- which makes this album not only their best work, but also the best starting point for people who haven’t yet been exposed to their music. I’m even willing to call it one of the best albums of the year so far.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.xiuxiu.org
Label Website: http://www.5rc.com
A number of songs on La Foret come across as the products of the failed experiments on previous albums. With its insistent kick drum and jarring, out-of-tune piano playing, “Mousey Toy” sounds like a close cousin of “Walnut House,” my least favorite song on A Promise. Fortunately, “Mousey Toy” has a stronger melody and a much more discernible structure. “Rose of Sharon (Grey Ghost Version)” is rare in that it’s a remake of a previously released Xiu Xiu song that actually IMPROVES upon the original version. Its droning harmoniums stretch the chord progression out until the song seems to stop time itself, while Jamie’s wobbly voice slowly rises to operatic levels of grandeur and intensity. Last but not least, there’s “Saturn,” whose introduction alone sounds like it was recorded in a war zone: flat-handed keyboards produce jarring bursts of dissonance, while the drum programming imitates the blast of machine guns. Jamie’s tense whispers are barely audible underneath the cacophony. The lyrics refer to our President by name and include a veiled reference to the Abu Ghraib scandal, but the music and the vocal delivery is what truly makes the song a more effective antiwar screed than Fabulous Muscles’ spoken-word disaster “Support Our Troops.”
The songs on La Foret revolve around the themes of power and anger. Jamie spends opening track “Clover” begging his antagonist not to abuse the power that he/she has over him: “Please please please/don’t don’t don’t/walk like my single hope.” The next song, “Muppet Face,” is a lurid account of someone (possibly a child, if the youthful giggling underneath the rhythm track is any indication) being raped at gunpoint. “Mousey Toy” finds Jamie crumbling under an antagonist’s seductive spell: “How did I end up here curled up on this couch? Where did you learn such a bold wink, whisking me off to your bedroom?”
Subsequent songs find Jamie taking a more aggressive tone. On “Pox,” his voice sounds paralyzed by fright, but the force with which he strums his guitar underscores the hatred in his lyrics. “Jesus is wondering,” he sings in the chorus, “if even He can love you.” Later on in the song, he tells his antagonist’s “sickening daughters” that “community college is waiting for them,” as if such a fate is even WORSE than eternal damnation. I don’t know if the people Jamie’s singing to or about actually exist, but the vividness of his lyrics make the Ecstacy-fueled biker in “Baby Captain,” the fat gamer trying in vain to cuddle up next to her cat in “Ale,” and the “bag lady’s son/beating off to the escort pages” in “Yellow Raspberry” feel real to me. When Jamie asks these people at album’s end, “What has changed as you tell the mirror hello?,” I already know the answer…and it ain’t good.
Throughout La Foret, Xiu Xiu creates musical backdrops that are equally as evocative as the lyrics. “Bog People” is a pessimist’s anthem (the chorus goes, “Why ask? Is there any reason? Why ask if it will just let up?”) that pits Jamie’s bright autoharp against band mate Caralee McElroy’s hissing percussion. The result sounds like a Celtic jig performed in the middle of a factory performing at full capacity. “Dangerous You Shouldn’t Be Here” is a stark lament for a friend who died from drowning. Like the metaphorical witch who “has come from under the ocean and…snatched my baby by the crook of her jaw,” the incidental sounds on this song rise from underneath Jamie‘s catatonic voice and guitar, only to disappear when they reach full volume. “Ale” does minimalism the right way, using only clarinet, percussion and voice to create a song that feels complete despite the spare instrumentation.
It took longer than I thought it would, but Xiu Xiu has finally lived up to the potential displayed on their debut album. Every song on La Foret is fully realized and essential --- which makes this album not only their best work, but also the best starting point for people who haven’t yet been exposed to their music. I’m even willing to call it one of the best albums of the year so far.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.xiuxiu.org
Label Website: http://www.5rc.com
October 04, 2005
Boduf Songs "Boduf Songs"
One of the big flaws with the whole 'freak-folk' movement is that it seems more focused on the 'freak' part, and the 'folk' part is only incidental. The only thing worse than a fake hippie is the fake hippie's utterly boring record. To those who make such music--come on, people, a little variety, please! Make something interesting happen in your music. Don't just stick to the same formula. The people you're ripping off usually had some form of variety to their music...why can't you?
Though a folk-style heart might beat under Mat Sweet's music, he tempers his songs with unusual sounds, from clanging metal (on "Claimant Reclaimed") to bells with backwards-played tapes ("Our Canon of Transportation:), field recordings ("Lost in Forests") and understated drone ("Vapour Steals the Glow"). Sweet sings in the same gray, mumbling lilt as Elliott Smith, and though he doesn't emit the same painful despair as Smith, his songs are very downbeat and lonesome. Boduf Songs is a dreary, cold and rainy listen, but its beauty is also instantly apparent.
Word has it that Boduf Songs initially served as a collection of demos, but the songs were so impressive that the label decided to release them untouched. After listening to this all-too-brief record, it's not hard to understand the label's point of view. Minimalism never sounded so beautiful, and Boduf Songs is a promising, captivating debut record.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.bluebabyrecordings.com
Label Website: http://www.kranky.net
Though a folk-style heart might beat under Mat Sweet's music, he tempers his songs with unusual sounds, from clanging metal (on "Claimant Reclaimed") to bells with backwards-played tapes ("Our Canon of Transportation:), field recordings ("Lost in Forests") and understated drone ("Vapour Steals the Glow"). Sweet sings in the same gray, mumbling lilt as Elliott Smith, and though he doesn't emit the same painful despair as Smith, his songs are very downbeat and lonesome. Boduf Songs is a dreary, cold and rainy listen, but its beauty is also instantly apparent.
Word has it that Boduf Songs initially served as a collection of demos, but the songs were so impressive that the label decided to release them untouched. After listening to this all-too-brief record, it's not hard to understand the label's point of view. Minimalism never sounded so beautiful, and Boduf Songs is a promising, captivating debut record.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.bluebabyrecordings.com
Label Website: http://www.kranky.net
October 03, 2005
Amp "US"
A decade after the fact, I think it’s safe to say that none of the acts commonly affiliated with the Bristol, England “post-rock” scene came close to becoming household names. Out of all of them, though, Amp seems to be the most obscure of the bunch, despite arguably being both the most pedigreed and the most quintessential. Richard Walker and Dave Pearce played in a band together before splitting to form Amp and Flying Saucer Attack, respectively. Early Amp recordings were done with Matt Elliott of Third Eye Foundation and Matt Jones of Crescent. You can tell that all of Walker’s earlier collaborators left a major imprint on the music he’s doing now. The music on Amp’s fifth album US is perched right at the center of a musical triangle, with Flying Saucer Attack’s ambient guitar noise on one end, Crescent’s murky lo-fi rock on another and Third Eye Foundation’s sinister techno on another.
Creatively named first track “Opening” begins with a drone that sounds like the hum of a tugboat, atop which the pitter-patter of programmed hi-hats ricochets around the stereo spectrum. New instruments are added to the mix, one by one. The programming is augmented by live drumming, the tugboat drone is overtaken by a swell of queasy distorted guitars and a choir of disembodied female voices (courtesy of Karine Charff) moans on top of everything. Because the layering is so slow and subtle, the result ends up being simultaneously cacophonous and soothing. It’s a trick that Amp repeats frequently throughout the record. “Get Here“ is built off a bass-driven groove reminiscent of Snowpony, until droning saxophones and scorching guitars obliterate everything in its path. “You Say” begins with acoustic guitars and hushed crooning, but turns into a white noise blizzard by the four-minute mark.
Amp is also quite fond of sound collage. “Implosion” sounds like what happens when you play a cabaret record and an environmental sound effects record at the same time. Karine croons forlornly (“I don’t know how far our love will go”) on top of lazily played keyboards and guitars, while wind blows and water splashes behind her. Toward the end of the song you can hear a ticking clock slowly edge itself above the instruments. On the similar “Will You, I’m Lost,” the environmental sound is given more prominence; you can hear snippets of conversation and maniacal laughing underneath the guitars and voices. “Think Don’t Think” takes this found sound fetish to an extreme; it consists of nothing but snippets of radio and television static edited and mixed together for three and a half minutes.
Unfortunately, it takes about seven songs for Amp to run out of ideas. Their sound is an intentionally diffuse one, and there aren’t any deviations from it on this album to sustain the average listener’s interest over the course of an hour (the ultra-minimal trip-hop of “Lopsided” being the sole exception). By the time I got to the 11-minute “Endgame,” what was once disorienting had become merely dreary. Unfortunately, you have to sit through another seven-minute song that sounds exactly like it before the album ends. On US, Amp fails to transcend the scene that spawned them; greater stylistic variation (or at least more stringent editing) may enable them to do this on future releases.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.ampbase.net
Label Website: http://www.cargorecords.co.uk/label_zoom.php?labelID=9
Creatively named first track “Opening” begins with a drone that sounds like the hum of a tugboat, atop which the pitter-patter of programmed hi-hats ricochets around the stereo spectrum. New instruments are added to the mix, one by one. The programming is augmented by live drumming, the tugboat drone is overtaken by a swell of queasy distorted guitars and a choir of disembodied female voices (courtesy of Karine Charff) moans on top of everything. Because the layering is so slow and subtle, the result ends up being simultaneously cacophonous and soothing. It’s a trick that Amp repeats frequently throughout the record. “Get Here“ is built off a bass-driven groove reminiscent of Snowpony, until droning saxophones and scorching guitars obliterate everything in its path. “You Say” begins with acoustic guitars and hushed crooning, but turns into a white noise blizzard by the four-minute mark.
Amp is also quite fond of sound collage. “Implosion” sounds like what happens when you play a cabaret record and an environmental sound effects record at the same time. Karine croons forlornly (“I don’t know how far our love will go”) on top of lazily played keyboards and guitars, while wind blows and water splashes behind her. Toward the end of the song you can hear a ticking clock slowly edge itself above the instruments. On the similar “Will You, I’m Lost,” the environmental sound is given more prominence; you can hear snippets of conversation and maniacal laughing underneath the guitars and voices. “Think Don’t Think” takes this found sound fetish to an extreme; it consists of nothing but snippets of radio and television static edited and mixed together for three and a half minutes.
Unfortunately, it takes about seven songs for Amp to run out of ideas. Their sound is an intentionally diffuse one, and there aren’t any deviations from it on this album to sustain the average listener’s interest over the course of an hour (the ultra-minimal trip-hop of “Lopsided” being the sole exception). By the time I got to the 11-minute “Endgame,” what was once disorienting had become merely dreary. Unfortunately, you have to sit through another seven-minute song that sounds exactly like it before the album ends. On US, Amp fails to transcend the scene that spawned them; greater stylistic variation (or at least more stringent editing) may enable them to do this on future releases.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.ampbase.net
Label Website: http://www.cargorecords.co.uk/label_zoom.php?labelID=9
October 02, 2005
The Posies "Every Kind of Light"
If any band deserves to win a prize for being the most passive-aggressive, it would rightfully go to The Posies. Even though they broke up several years ago, leaders Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow released a number of vintage recordings, a box set, a record or two of newly-recorded versions of Posies classics and they even toured together playing Posies tunes--but none dared call it a Posies reunion. It seems as if the band had some kind of hidden reservations about fully returning to their past.
For many people, The Posies' defenitive statement was 1993's Frosting On The Beater, a loud, hard collection of really, really wonderful pop songs, including the sticky-sweet "Flavor of the Month," the mindbendingly beautiful "Solar Sister" and the powerful "Dream All Day." Later records Amazing Disgrace and Success were good, but didn't quite have the same powerful yet catchy punch. Every Kind of Light isn't as hard, either, but that's not a fault; "All In A Day's Work," "I Finally Found a Jungle I Like!!!" and "Second Time Around" fly high and punch hard just like the Posies of yore. It's to their credit that Auer and Stringfellow didn't get caught up in trying to imitate the band's past glories; how many reunions can you think of that have been ruined by bands embarassingly trying to recreate their glory days?
Instead, the band has deftly blended the mellower soft rock country-rock elements of their last album, Success, with the harder edge of previous years, and have succeded in making the album that Success should have been. Considering that Auer & Stringfellow's various Posies "reunion" shows were acoustic, and the previous "Posies" releases before this have also been acoustic, it should come as no surprise that Every Kind of Light is a mellower affair. As they've proven themselves to be quite adept in the songwriting department, this new focus on mellower music is an unsurprisingly excellent development. Considering that Every Kind of Light sounds not unlike Stringfellow's two recent solo albums, it's probably safe to assume that this is the direction The Posies were heading.
The Posies built their reputation with superior songwriting, and they've yet to lose their magic touch. Every Kind of Light is filled with excellent songs, period. Whether it's the mellowed-out balladry of "Conversations," the gorgeous soft-rock of "Love Comes," the bluesy "It's Great to Be Here Again!," the scathing political rock of "Sweethearts of Rodeo Drive" or the harder moments of "I Finally Found a Jungle I Like!!!," you're going to find the same wonderful guitar work, the same excellent lyrics and, as always, the gorgeous Auer/Stringfellow harmonies. Throw all of these together and you've got an excellent, mature pop record from a band who, at one time, could do no wrong--and who can still do no wrong.
So while The Posies might not pack the same punch as their earlier incarnation, it's also quite apparent that Auer and Stringfellow know that they're still badass songwriters. In fact, I'm kind of glad they didn't try to imitate their glory days. Every Kind of Light is a welcome return and, simply put, it's a great record. But, really, did you expect any less from The Posies? I know I didn't.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.theposies.net
Label Website: http://www.rykodisc.com
For many people, The Posies' defenitive statement was 1993's Frosting On The Beater, a loud, hard collection of really, really wonderful pop songs, including the sticky-sweet "Flavor of the Month," the mindbendingly beautiful "Solar Sister" and the powerful "Dream All Day." Later records Amazing Disgrace and Success were good, but didn't quite have the same powerful yet catchy punch. Every Kind of Light isn't as hard, either, but that's not a fault; "All In A Day's Work," "I Finally Found a Jungle I Like!!!" and "Second Time Around" fly high and punch hard just like the Posies of yore. It's to their credit that Auer and Stringfellow didn't get caught up in trying to imitate the band's past glories; how many reunions can you think of that have been ruined by bands embarassingly trying to recreate their glory days?
Instead, the band has deftly blended the mellower soft rock country-rock elements of their last album, Success, with the harder edge of previous years, and have succeded in making the album that Success should have been. Considering that Auer & Stringfellow's various Posies "reunion" shows were acoustic, and the previous "Posies" releases before this have also been acoustic, it should come as no surprise that Every Kind of Light is a mellower affair. As they've proven themselves to be quite adept in the songwriting department, this new focus on mellower music is an unsurprisingly excellent development. Considering that Every Kind of Light sounds not unlike Stringfellow's two recent solo albums, it's probably safe to assume that this is the direction The Posies were heading.
The Posies built their reputation with superior songwriting, and they've yet to lose their magic touch. Every Kind of Light is filled with excellent songs, period. Whether it's the mellowed-out balladry of "Conversations," the gorgeous soft-rock of "Love Comes," the bluesy "It's Great to Be Here Again!," the scathing political rock of "Sweethearts of Rodeo Drive" or the harder moments of "I Finally Found a Jungle I Like!!!," you're going to find the same wonderful guitar work, the same excellent lyrics and, as always, the gorgeous Auer/Stringfellow harmonies. Throw all of these together and you've got an excellent, mature pop record from a band who, at one time, could do no wrong--and who can still do no wrong.
So while The Posies might not pack the same punch as their earlier incarnation, it's also quite apparent that Auer and Stringfellow know that they're still badass songwriters. In fact, I'm kind of glad they didn't try to imitate their glory days. Every Kind of Light is a welcome return and, simply put, it's a great record. But, really, did you expect any less from The Posies? I know I didn't.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.theposies.net
Label Website: http://www.rykodisc.com
October 01, 2005
Fishboy "Little D"
I went to a college that was saturated with guys who played acoustic guitar. I didn’t go to many parties when I was there; whenever I did, though, I would always see one of these guys walking around with his guitar, improvising songs on the spot to amuse his friends. It was a fascinating high-wire act to watch. Everyone wondered how long it would take for him to flub a chord or say something completely nonsensical in a failed attempt to make lines rhyme. Although the guy was clearly talented, no one ever thought that his gift for improvisation would lead to anything substantial. Even in his own eyes, he was just doing what he could to spice up the party and make people laugh. I tell you all of this because Fishboy’s debut album Little D feels like the kind of music that guy would make if he were given studio time and a backing band.
This is a good thing, by the way.
Eric Michener, better known as Fishboy, writes whimsical lyrics that often sound as if they were made up while the tape was rolling, shoehorned into rhyming couplets through sheer serendipity. One song begins with Michener singing about a jellyfish, only to switch topic halfway through and start singing about car crashes. He even sounds like he’s holding back laughter while he’s doing it! On “Our Escape,” he compares a pretty girl to his beloved hometown (the D in Little D stands for Denton, TX), only to tell her later on in the song that she looks like a “sea cow.” The chorus of “Quatro” boasts the kind of imagery that could only come from a potent LSD trip: “When the plastic falls into the lake/holographic people eating cake/will stop their fishing!”
Michener’s freewheeling lyrics are counterbalanced by the meticulously composed backdrops that his cast of nearly 20 musicians provides. “That’s a…Jellyfish” ends with a horn fanfare harmonious enough to make Neutral Milk Hotel’s Jeff Mangum cock an eyebrow, and “Start Again” climaxes with the weepy swell of a full-fledged string quartet. Corn Mo adds falsetto backing vocals to “Asian Grain,” and almost every other song on the record is filled with voices harmonizing with and shouting against Michener’s own. The overall effect suggests a hyperactive Tullycraft ransacking a high school band hall. The fact that Michener’s voice is just as thin and nasal as Sean Tollefson’s only sets such a comparison in cement.
It is also to Michener’s credit that his lyrics start making more sense as Little D progresses. “Banana Trees” is a touching attempt to lift the spirits of a sad, shut-in friend. “Gameboy” boasts the nerdiest metaphor ever employed for an unstable relationship: “We’re like two Gameboys in the sand/It’s all game when the water hits the land.” “A Surprise Return” is a tale of a Christmas tree who comes back to its former owner’s house after the New Year and refuses to leave. In “Start Again,” the protagonist’s head explodes, only to grow back before anyone else finds out. He becomes an amnesiac, and spends the rest of the song trying to remember the friends he had before he…well, lost his head. It doesn’t take long for Michener to get listeners acclimated to his skewed worldview. This, more than anything else, is why Little D succeeds as an album.
If the guy I talked about in the first paragraph was given the opportunity to make an album, he’d have to add substance to his improvisations to ensure replay value…and I’m not sure that he’d be able to do it. Michener, on the other hand, imbues many of his songs with deeper meanings that reveal themselves once the listener stops laughing.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.yofishboy.com
Label Website: http://www.businessdealrecords.com
This is a good thing, by the way.
Eric Michener, better known as Fishboy, writes whimsical lyrics that often sound as if they were made up while the tape was rolling, shoehorned into rhyming couplets through sheer serendipity. One song begins with Michener singing about a jellyfish, only to switch topic halfway through and start singing about car crashes. He even sounds like he’s holding back laughter while he’s doing it! On “Our Escape,” he compares a pretty girl to his beloved hometown (the D in Little D stands for Denton, TX), only to tell her later on in the song that she looks like a “sea cow.” The chorus of “Quatro” boasts the kind of imagery that could only come from a potent LSD trip: “When the plastic falls into the lake/holographic people eating cake/will stop their fishing!”
Michener’s freewheeling lyrics are counterbalanced by the meticulously composed backdrops that his cast of nearly 20 musicians provides. “That’s a…Jellyfish” ends with a horn fanfare harmonious enough to make Neutral Milk Hotel’s Jeff Mangum cock an eyebrow, and “Start Again” climaxes with the weepy swell of a full-fledged string quartet. Corn Mo adds falsetto backing vocals to “Asian Grain,” and almost every other song on the record is filled with voices harmonizing with and shouting against Michener’s own. The overall effect suggests a hyperactive Tullycraft ransacking a high school band hall. The fact that Michener’s voice is just as thin and nasal as Sean Tollefson’s only sets such a comparison in cement.
It is also to Michener’s credit that his lyrics start making more sense as Little D progresses. “Banana Trees” is a touching attempt to lift the spirits of a sad, shut-in friend. “Gameboy” boasts the nerdiest metaphor ever employed for an unstable relationship: “We’re like two Gameboys in the sand/It’s all game when the water hits the land.” “A Surprise Return” is a tale of a Christmas tree who comes back to its former owner’s house after the New Year and refuses to leave. In “Start Again,” the protagonist’s head explodes, only to grow back before anyone else finds out. He becomes an amnesiac, and spends the rest of the song trying to remember the friends he had before he…well, lost his head. It doesn’t take long for Michener to get listeners acclimated to his skewed worldview. This, more than anything else, is why Little D succeeds as an album.
If the guy I talked about in the first paragraph was given the opportunity to make an album, he’d have to add substance to his improvisations to ensure replay value…and I’m not sure that he’d be able to do it. Michener, on the other hand, imbues many of his songs with deeper meanings that reveal themselves once the listener stops laughing.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.yofishboy.com
Label Website: http://www.businessdealrecords.com
September 28, 2005
Brian Jonestown Massacre "We Are The Radio"
You either love or hate the Brian Jonestown Massacre. Let’s not even mention that film, because that was a bullshit slam piece that masqueraded as a disturbing portrait of a tortured genius. (Watch the commentary version of the film to discover the disturbing truth about the filmmakers.) Anyway, Brian Jonestown Massacre’s returned, and they’re still as magical as ever. We Are The Radio might be a mini-album, but such a format has always served BJM quite well; it allows Anton Newcomb and his band the ability to display their talents in short bursts, without running the risk of self-indulgence. And, as always, Newcombe delivers the goods. There are five great songs on We Are The Radio, from the psych experimentation of “Teleflow 5 vs. Amplifaction,” the classic BJM stylings of “Time is Honey (So Cut the Shit)" to the gorgeously beautiful “Seer” and “God is my Girlfriend.” It’s a brief record, but if you enjoy BJM’s psychedelic jangle, you’ll definitely enjoy this brief excursion. Let’s hear more, Anton!
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.brianjonestownmassacre.com
Label Website: http://www.teepeerecords.com
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.brianjonestownmassacre.com
Label Website: http://www.teepeerecords.com
September 27, 2005
José González "veneer"
With his humble singing and low-key guitar playing, at times José González recalls the humble, low-key Elliott Smith, but thankfully there’s nothing on Veneer that makes you think that Gonzalez is merely imitating Smith’s legacy. But unlike Smith, González has a distinctive guitar sound, one that blends folk with traditional South American guitar playing. The results of this blending are sad, melancholy songs with beautiful, distinctive accompaniment. Songs like “Heartbeat” and “Lovestain” are heartbreakers of the highest order, portraying González as a man who knows how it feels to fail at love. Other songs like “Stay in the Shade” and “Slow Moves” are pretty, simple songs with even prettier guitar picking.
Veneer’s only flaw is that González’s music is occasionally too non-descript. Though he does break the monotony with a few more up-tempo songs, for the most part, Veneer never lags in its rainy-day moping. It’s a common problem with this style of music; melancholy is sometimes difficult to appreciate all at once, and it’s sometimes difficult to sustain interest when composing songs with such a simple, basic formula. Thankfully, González has polished his material, and though occasionally monotonous, Veneer never overstays its welcome, and every song on Veneer is equally high-quality. Besides, when you produce gems like “Crosses,” you can do whatever you want, and that complaint isn't really much of a complaint, it's just an observation.
All things considered, Veneer is as promising a debut as you could want. Given time and a bit of maturity, González could easily deliver great things. After all, he already has....
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.jose-gonzalez.com
Label Website: http://www.parasol.com
Veneer’s only flaw is that González’s music is occasionally too non-descript. Though he does break the monotony with a few more up-tempo songs, for the most part, Veneer never lags in its rainy-day moping. It’s a common problem with this style of music; melancholy is sometimes difficult to appreciate all at once, and it’s sometimes difficult to sustain interest when composing songs with such a simple, basic formula. Thankfully, González has polished his material, and though occasionally monotonous, Veneer never overstays its welcome, and every song on Veneer is equally high-quality. Besides, when you produce gems like “Crosses,” you can do whatever you want, and that complaint isn't really much of a complaint, it's just an observation.
All things considered, Veneer is as promising a debut as you could want. Given time and a bit of maturity, González could easily deliver great things. After all, he already has....
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.jose-gonzalez.com
Label Website: http://www.parasol.com
Harvey Danger "Little by Little..."
Ah, Harvey Danger! They're best known--or, more correctly, only known---for the quirky "Flagpole Sitta," a silly and fun song that betrayed the band's true talents and abilities. Quickly forgotten, the world never had the chance to hear their follow-up, King James Version, because, well...that's how the music business works. Gotta keep the contractual obligations to the also-rans, and when the hits don't come, you've got the wonderful escape clause that allows you to drop them and leave 'em for dead. Which, of course, is exactly what happened. The band got their fifteen minutes of fame, the labels got a little bit richer off of them, and when it was over...it was over. How many bands survive after being thrown through such a well-oiled killing machine? Not many.
While their two previous albums might have been filled with crunchy pop songs with a distinctive power-pop edge, Little by Little... is notable for not being filled with crunchy power-pop songs. Nelson isn't yelling like he used to; instead, he's offering up a damn-near sexy croon, singing heartfelt words of love and joy. So while Harvey Danger might not 'rock' like before, it certainly doesn't mean that they've faltered in the songwriting department. Sure, "Cool James" and "Cream and Bastards Rise" sound like classic Harvey Danger, but for the most part, the band eschewed the loud guitars for quiet, delicate pianos and an overall melodicism that's quite enchanting. It's hard not to love the Ben Folds Five-esque "Happiness Writes White," and the introductory "Wine, Women and Song" is a jazzy little number that reminds more than a bit of the great Joe Jackson.
Harvey Danger's one strength has always been its clever lyrical content, and even though the album marks a dramatic change in the band's musical style, it's refreshing to know that frontman Sean Nelson still retains his keen wit. When considering Harvey Danger's history, one song deserves closer examination. Though it's not completely obvious, one can't help but wonder if Nelson and company are using their previous experiences with the big Music Business world as lyrical fodder. This question comes up on the fast-paced "Cream and Bastards Rise," a cautionary tale where Mr. Nelson sings to one who is "doing everything your people said to" and warns of "people who can buy and sell you." He warns that the person you consider a friend "will eclipse you and he will not miss you." By song's end, one wonders if the song serves less as a cautionary tale and more as a comfort to those who have suffered his fate--the fate of getting one's fifteen minutes of fame.
As a special bonus, Little by Little... comes with a nine-track addendum. Though this little record might initially serve to satiate the hardcore Dangerheads, one shouldn't assume the songs are throwaways. Sure, the writing snippets are silly and nonessential, but the leftover tracks certainly shouldn't be neglected. Check out the jazzy lounge version of "Cream and Bastards Rise," the middle-finger to Declan McManus that is "Elvis I Don't Love You Anymore" and the rather rockin' "Picture, Picture."
Little by Little... is an obscure jewel, but it's certainly a wonderful find. It's also a beautiful flip-off to those who wrote Harvey Danger off years ago, because survival is the ultimate form of revenge. So welcome back, guys...the world's needed you, and let's make up for lost time, shall we?
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.harveydanger.com
While their two previous albums might have been filled with crunchy pop songs with a distinctive power-pop edge, Little by Little... is notable for not being filled with crunchy power-pop songs. Nelson isn't yelling like he used to; instead, he's offering up a damn-near sexy croon, singing heartfelt words of love and joy. So while Harvey Danger might not 'rock' like before, it certainly doesn't mean that they've faltered in the songwriting department. Sure, "Cool James" and "Cream and Bastards Rise" sound like classic Harvey Danger, but for the most part, the band eschewed the loud guitars for quiet, delicate pianos and an overall melodicism that's quite enchanting. It's hard not to love the Ben Folds Five-esque "Happiness Writes White," and the introductory "Wine, Women and Song" is a jazzy little number that reminds more than a bit of the great Joe Jackson.
Harvey Danger's one strength has always been its clever lyrical content, and even though the album marks a dramatic change in the band's musical style, it's refreshing to know that frontman Sean Nelson still retains his keen wit. When considering Harvey Danger's history, one song deserves closer examination. Though it's not completely obvious, one can't help but wonder if Nelson and company are using their previous experiences with the big Music Business world as lyrical fodder. This question comes up on the fast-paced "Cream and Bastards Rise," a cautionary tale where Mr. Nelson sings to one who is "doing everything your people said to" and warns of "people who can buy and sell you." He warns that the person you consider a friend "will eclipse you and he will not miss you." By song's end, one wonders if the song serves less as a cautionary tale and more as a comfort to those who have suffered his fate--the fate of getting one's fifteen minutes of fame.
As a special bonus, Little by Little... comes with a nine-track addendum. Though this little record might initially serve to satiate the hardcore Dangerheads, one shouldn't assume the songs are throwaways. Sure, the writing snippets are silly and nonessential, but the leftover tracks certainly shouldn't be neglected. Check out the jazzy lounge version of "Cream and Bastards Rise," the middle-finger to Declan McManus that is "Elvis I Don't Love You Anymore" and the rather rockin' "Picture, Picture."
Little by Little... is an obscure jewel, but it's certainly a wonderful find. It's also a beautiful flip-off to those who wrote Harvey Danger off years ago, because survival is the ultimate form of revenge. So welcome back, guys...the world's needed you, and let's make up for lost time, shall we?
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.harveydanger.com
September 26, 2005
Caroline "Where's My Love?"
If you have a Myspace account, then you'll know how frustrating it is to be friended by bands you've never heard of. Though meant as a friendly gesture--and as a way to get their music heard--it can be quite annoying. Personally, I very rarely check out a band I've never heard of that friends me, partially becaus I don't have the time, but usually simply because I prefer to hear a real record. My cynicism is not uncommon; when approached by Caroline Lufkin, the folks at Temporary Residence were about as indifferent as you'd expect...until they actually listened to her music. That they overwhelmingly responded to her music with a "sign her NOW" attitude is quite understandable.
Though her debut record, Where's My Love, is a mere CD-single, it's a record that instantly leaves you breathless. The title song is a quiet, pretty pop song, built upon a beautiful electronica foundation, layered with simple, gentle beats, beautiful piano and some rather touching wind chimes. It's minimalist, to say the least, but when you have an overwhelmingly pretty singing voice like Caroline's, you really don't need a fancy accompaniment. Her childlike voice only accentuates the extremely innocent lyrics, words that might otherwise sound painfully trite: "Where's my love?/Don't hide from me/I'll be good to you , I will, honestly/Oh, love, come to me." That she sings them with the sincerity of Dorothy singing about places somewhere over the rainbow only adds to the song's simple charm.
The other two songs are good, but not quite as essential. The remixed version of the title track removes her vocals and expands on the instrumental backing, throwing beats together with gamelan and some vocal manipulation. As you'd expect, it sounds quite beautiful, and instead of looking at it as a remix, one should consider it a fascinating reprise of the lovely song it follows. "Time Swells" is also pretty, following the same formula, but it's not quite as captivating. It's a bit more generic sounding, not unlike the work of Lali Puna or any other member of the Morr Music family. It's still pretty, but it's definitely not quite in the same league as the title song.
Where's My Love is a gorgeously beautiful little pill, even if it is criminally brief. Here's to the future for this young and quite promising young woman. Her talent is obvious, and anything she does in the future is to be anticipated with baited breath. My first reaction to this song was, "OH MY GOD, CHECK THIS OUT NOW!" and I think you'll feel the same way, too. Too bad this wasn't a full length, because we're looking at a contender for one of the year's best debuts.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.myspace.com/caroline
Label Website: http://www.temporaryresidence.com
Though her debut record, Where's My Love, is a mere CD-single, it's a record that instantly leaves you breathless. The title song is a quiet, pretty pop song, built upon a beautiful electronica foundation, layered with simple, gentle beats, beautiful piano and some rather touching wind chimes. It's minimalist, to say the least, but when you have an overwhelmingly pretty singing voice like Caroline's, you really don't need a fancy accompaniment. Her childlike voice only accentuates the extremely innocent lyrics, words that might otherwise sound painfully trite: "Where's my love?/Don't hide from me/I'll be good to you , I will, honestly/Oh, love, come to me." That she sings them with the sincerity of Dorothy singing about places somewhere over the rainbow only adds to the song's simple charm.
The other two songs are good, but not quite as essential. The remixed version of the title track removes her vocals and expands on the instrumental backing, throwing beats together with gamelan and some vocal manipulation. As you'd expect, it sounds quite beautiful, and instead of looking at it as a remix, one should consider it a fascinating reprise of the lovely song it follows. "Time Swells" is also pretty, following the same formula, but it's not quite as captivating. It's a bit more generic sounding, not unlike the work of Lali Puna or any other member of the Morr Music family. It's still pretty, but it's definitely not quite in the same league as the title song.
Where's My Love is a gorgeously beautiful little pill, even if it is criminally brief. Here's to the future for this young and quite promising young woman. Her talent is obvious, and anything she does in the future is to be anticipated with baited breath. My first reaction to this song was, "OH MY GOD, CHECK THIS OUT NOW!" and I think you'll feel the same way, too. Too bad this wasn't a full length, because we're looking at a contender for one of the year's best debuts.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.myspace.com/caroline
Label Website: http://www.temporaryresidence.com
September 19, 2005
Sparrow "The Early Years"
Because it’s raining and cold outside and it’s kinda feelin’ like England, I find myself in a Sixties 'retro' mindset. Who better to spend time with than Jason Zumpano, the man who created some great bubblegum-pop records in the mid 1990s? True, The New Pornographers’ Carl Newman was in the band, and he gets a lot of the attention these days, but Zumpano’s not to be written off easily as an also-ran.The Early Years (not actually a collection of early tracks, it’s all new material) is just as sunny and as bright as Zumpano’s other work, even if it’s not as crunchy or as ornate. There’s a definite mid-60s British invasion feel to the record (more Kinks, less Beatles), but The Early Years isn’t particularly ‘retro,’ either.
Instead, what we’ve got here is a batch of sunny pop songs that simply shimmer. Personal favorite? I’m a sucker for “The Early Years,” with its upbeat tempo and Zumpano’s lackadaisical chorus of “How do I get from heeeeeeeerrrreeeeeee?” that’s tempered with a really nice mixture of strings and trumpet. But I’m also a sucker for the boy/girl harmonies throughout the record, which are provided courtesy of Lucy Brain. Take, for instance, “I’m Just Not There.” Before listening to it, it’s hard not to think of “She’s Not There,” and yeah, the vocal tag reminds a little bit of that classic Zombie tune, but it’s not a rip-off or anything like that. There’s plenty of strings and brass but not too much; The Early Years’ songs are not heavy duty baroque pop, it’s just a guy havin’ a good time making music that sounds like the records he likes.
I guess that’s what makes The Early Years’s retro-pop stylings so nice; they’re sugary and sweet and they don’t sound like a damn rip-off of someone else. Plus, any band that uses a damn trumpet is a-okay in my book!
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.inflightmusic.com
Label Website: http://www.absolutelykosher.com
Instead, what we’ve got here is a batch of sunny pop songs that simply shimmer. Personal favorite? I’m a sucker for “The Early Years,” with its upbeat tempo and Zumpano’s lackadaisical chorus of “How do I get from heeeeeeeerrrreeeeeee?” that’s tempered with a really nice mixture of strings and trumpet. But I’m also a sucker for the boy/girl harmonies throughout the record, which are provided courtesy of Lucy Brain. Take, for instance, “I’m Just Not There.” Before listening to it, it’s hard not to think of “She’s Not There,” and yeah, the vocal tag reminds a little bit of that classic Zombie tune, but it’s not a rip-off or anything like that. There’s plenty of strings and brass but not too much; The Early Years’ songs are not heavy duty baroque pop, it’s just a guy havin’ a good time making music that sounds like the records he likes.
I guess that’s what makes The Early Years’s retro-pop stylings so nice; they’re sugary and sweet and they don’t sound like a damn rip-off of someone else. Plus, any band that uses a damn trumpet is a-okay in my book!
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.inflightmusic.com
Label Website: http://www.absolutelykosher.com
Iron & Wine/Calexico "In the Reigns"
The pairing of Iron & Wine and Calexico might seem a bit curious, but in actuality, the collaboration works really well. Iron & Wine’s mastermind, Sam Beam, sings with a dirty, dusty, whiskey-drenched croon that resides somewhere between haunting and desolate, while Calexico’s music has always sounded like the soundtrack to a Spaghetti western’s dirty, dusty barroom. So it’s really not a surprise that the In the Reigns a too-brief seven song EP, is quite wonderful.
Many of the songs on In the Reigns sound like extensions of Iron & Wine’s regular sound. Songs like “He Lays in the Reigns” and “Sixteen, Maybe Less” are typical sad-sack Beam affairs. With the help of Calexico, though, these songs have an added depth, thanks to the additions of such things as pedal steel, piano and vibes. These songs are nice, but In the Reigns is truly rewarding when the two parties bring their talents together and create music that’s different from their repertoire. “Red Dust” is a surprisingly funky barroom-blues rocker, accentuated by some great singing and a really great organ lick, while “Burn That Broken Bed” is the best song the 1970s-era Crosby, Stills & Nash never produced. The real winner, though, is “A History of Lovers.” This number is a beautiful, upbeat country love song; while Beam might be known for making sensitive music, he’s never sound this joyously happy before.
Collaborations like this often tend to be one-off affairs. While that’s simply the nature of this game, it would be a shame if the two parties never paired up again. If that is the case, In the Reigns is a beautiful document of a brief love affair. But let’s hope that this is the start of a beautiful friendship.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.ironandwine.com
Artist Website: http://www.casadecalexico.com
Label Website: http://www.overcoatrecordings.com
Many of the songs on In the Reigns sound like extensions of Iron & Wine’s regular sound. Songs like “He Lays in the Reigns” and “Sixteen, Maybe Less” are typical sad-sack Beam affairs. With the help of Calexico, though, these songs have an added depth, thanks to the additions of such things as pedal steel, piano and vibes. These songs are nice, but In the Reigns is truly rewarding when the two parties bring their talents together and create music that’s different from their repertoire. “Red Dust” is a surprisingly funky barroom-blues rocker, accentuated by some great singing and a really great organ lick, while “Burn That Broken Bed” is the best song the 1970s-era Crosby, Stills & Nash never produced. The real winner, though, is “A History of Lovers.” This number is a beautiful, upbeat country love song; while Beam might be known for making sensitive music, he’s never sound this joyously happy before.
Collaborations like this often tend to be one-off affairs. While that’s simply the nature of this game, it would be a shame if the two parties never paired up again. If that is the case, In the Reigns is a beautiful document of a brief love affair. But let’s hope that this is the start of a beautiful friendship.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.ironandwine.com
Artist Website: http://www.casadecalexico.com
Label Website: http://www.overcoatrecordings.com
September 16, 2005
xbxrx "sixth in sixes"
You really have to have a certain level of patience to deal with a band like xbxrx. Their music is best described as a flash of intense, loud noise accompanied by all kinds of screaming. Melody? Not relevant. Just hit ‘em where it hurts and get outta there. Throw in some feedback, keyboards and tribal drums, and you’ve got an interestingly arranged burst of loud noise. Repeat the formula over and over and over again, but never do it for more than a minute—two minutes, tops. Lyrics? Make ‘em weird, make ‘em oblique, make ‘em offensive…just make ‘em so listeners wonder why you even bother to make ‘em. At some point, you’ve got to wonder if a band like this is being clever, but then you quickly realize that you’re giving them a tad too much credit. Any band that can make a minute seem like an eternity is either doing something terribly wrong or something wonderfully right. After making an attempt to listen to Sixth in Sixes, I’m not sure which is which, and I'm not sure I really want to know...
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.xbxrx.com
Label Website: http://www.polyvinylrecords.com
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.xbxrx.com
Label Website: http://www.polyvinylrecords.com
Boyracer "Insults & Insights"
It’s been a year and a half since I last reviewed a Boyracer record in Mundane Sounds. Since then, they’ve released one full-length album, three 7-inch singles and FOUR mini-albums. Insults and Insights isn’t even their most recent release --- it just happens to be the one that my editor gave me to review. I guess that Stewart Anderson is using the breakup of Guided by Voices (my OTHER favorite band) as an opportunity to soundly thrash him in the prolificacy department. Then again, he lives with his equally talented wife Jen Turrell in the desert, on a cattle farm that doubles as a recording studio. I’d record a billion songs a day too if I were in his position! Fortunately, Anderson is a better editor than Pollard. Boyracer releases have a much higher signal-to-noise ratio now than they did in the ‘90s, and this eight-song EP is yet another small triumph in a discography that’s already chock full of small triumphs.
Opener “Louise” begins with Stewart slowly plucking out a chord on his acoustic guitar. At first, I thought the song was going to be a ballad…until Stewart started strumming in his normal hyperactive style and the drums kicked in. Before 30 seconds had passed, the fuzzy guitars had taken over and I was once again jumping around my apartment like an idiot, like all the best Boyracer songs compel me to do. Stewart sings about a woman who has one-night stands with all the wrong boys, and Jen (who, at this point, is also Stewart’s sole band mate) backs him up with sweet unison vocals. It sounds like business as usual, until something comes along that I’d never expect to hear on a Boyracer song: SOLOING! Stewart gives us a guitar solo AND a drum solo before wrapping the song up right at the two-minute mark. It’s a fitting introduction to an EP that finds him and Jen taking chances and stretching their songs out.
“The Sadness in You” is built on a four-on-the-floor drum pattern and chicken-scratch rhythm guitar, and it’s the closest that Boyracer have ever come to actually being funky. “The Second Fiddle” goes even further out, not only by approaching the six-minute mark (!!!), but by juxtaposing Stewart’s mellow finger-picking and (mostly) sweet crooning with booming timpani and screeching synthesizers. Closer “Tell Me What You Want (Then Tell Me What You Need)” lays on the speed, distortion and feedback even thicker than usual, and even takes a page from the My Bloody Valentine songbook in the way that Stewart’s and Jen’s voices imitate the pitch-imperfect guitars. Last but not least, both members seem to have shaken off the timidity that has hindered their vocal performances on recent releases, partially the otherwise great Happenstance album. They project and stretch their voices much more now, which can occasionally lead to some painfully off-key singing (“The Second Fiddle”) but more often yields great and unexpected melodies “Fast Boyfriends”).
Insults and Insights is a fitting summary of Anderson’s approach to writing lyrics. His words are passive-aggressive rants about interpersonal drama that just happen to be shoehorned into verse/chorus format. Whether he’s trying to encourage a troubled friend (“The Sadness in You”) or being forced to deal with people he doesn’t like (“Smile on Cue”), Anderson always sounds as if he’s singing to a particular person in his life. The universality of his topics and the catchiness of his songs keep solipsism at bay, though.
What more can I say? Boyracer keeps on churning out great songs at a rate that puts most other bands to shame, and Insults and Insights is as good a starting point as any for those who haven’t yet been exposed to Anderson’s brand of heartfelt noise-pop.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.indiepages.com/boyracer
Label Website: http://www.kittnet.com
Opener “Louise” begins with Stewart slowly plucking out a chord on his acoustic guitar. At first, I thought the song was going to be a ballad…until Stewart started strumming in his normal hyperactive style and the drums kicked in. Before 30 seconds had passed, the fuzzy guitars had taken over and I was once again jumping around my apartment like an idiot, like all the best Boyracer songs compel me to do. Stewart sings about a woman who has one-night stands with all the wrong boys, and Jen (who, at this point, is also Stewart’s sole band mate) backs him up with sweet unison vocals. It sounds like business as usual, until something comes along that I’d never expect to hear on a Boyracer song: SOLOING! Stewart gives us a guitar solo AND a drum solo before wrapping the song up right at the two-minute mark. It’s a fitting introduction to an EP that finds him and Jen taking chances and stretching their songs out.
“The Sadness in You” is built on a four-on-the-floor drum pattern and chicken-scratch rhythm guitar, and it’s the closest that Boyracer have ever come to actually being funky. “The Second Fiddle” goes even further out, not only by approaching the six-minute mark (!!!), but by juxtaposing Stewart’s mellow finger-picking and (mostly) sweet crooning with booming timpani and screeching synthesizers. Closer “Tell Me What You Want (Then Tell Me What You Need)” lays on the speed, distortion and feedback even thicker than usual, and even takes a page from the My Bloody Valentine songbook in the way that Stewart’s and Jen’s voices imitate the pitch-imperfect guitars. Last but not least, both members seem to have shaken off the timidity that has hindered their vocal performances on recent releases, partially the otherwise great Happenstance album. They project and stretch their voices much more now, which can occasionally lead to some painfully off-key singing (“The Second Fiddle”) but more often yields great and unexpected melodies “Fast Boyfriends”).
Insults and Insights is a fitting summary of Anderson’s approach to writing lyrics. His words are passive-aggressive rants about interpersonal drama that just happen to be shoehorned into verse/chorus format. Whether he’s trying to encourage a troubled friend (“The Sadness in You”) or being forced to deal with people he doesn’t like (“Smile on Cue”), Anderson always sounds as if he’s singing to a particular person in his life. The universality of his topics and the catchiness of his songs keep solipsism at bay, though.
What more can I say? Boyracer keeps on churning out great songs at a rate that puts most other bands to shame, and Insults and Insights is as good a starting point as any for those who haven’t yet been exposed to Anderson’s brand of heartfelt noise-pop.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.indiepages.com/boyracer
Label Website: http://www.kittnet.com
September 14, 2005
Need New Body "Where's Black Ben??"
If there’s any adjective that neatly sums up the music of Philadelphian quintet Need New Body, it is “self-indulgent.” Even their staunchest apologists have to admit that the members of Need New Body are more concerned with entertaining themselves than they are with entertaining their audience. All three times I’ve seen them live, vocalist Jeff Bradbury would take an occasional moment to run into the audience and dance to his band mates’ accompaniment. Even then, it felt like there was no one else in the room but him and his four comrades. Need New Body’s shows and records are platforms through which they indulge any and every whim that comes to their heads. This freewheeling aesthetic has its pros and cons. On one hand, it enables them to dance around genres like punk, jazz and bluegrass with ease, and to blur the lines between composition and improvisation with often hilarious results. On the other hand, it occasionally forces listeners to sit through long stretches of nothingness.
Need New Body’s first two albums, especially 2003’s UFO, had a surprisingly high signal-to-noise ratio, and their latest release Where’s Black Ben? certainly gets off to a good start. On opening track “Brite Tha’ Day,” the rhythm section lays down a funk groove that would make the Ohio Players proud. It is quickly sabotaged by shards of feedback and some of the most intentionally lame rapping ever recorded. Bradbury saves the day with a sung chorus that sounds like an AM radio crooner overdosing on nitrous oxide; he even bursts into laughter in mid-song, which should tell you a lot. About halfway through, the feedback and the rapping stops being irritating and instead becomes endearing. By straddling such a fine line and ending up on the RIGHT side of the divide, this song ends up being a perfect example of their aesthetic.
Another example of this can be found on the fifth song, “Mouth Breather.” During the first half of the song, one of the members hyperactively chants “one, two, check” into the microphone over and over again. Just when you’re ready to eject the CD and use it as a Frisbee, the song blossoms into a distorted keyboard fugue that sounds like the soundtrack to an old Super Nintendo game…and THEN they throw in a dulcimer solo! Other songs are less of a challenge to the listener. “Poppa B” is a catchy banjo-driven romp about love, friendship and dancing. “Peruvidia” mimics the tribal pounding and munchkin wailing of the Animal Collective. “So St Rx” is a hilarious and danceable tribute to downtown Philly, in which the band members expertly recreate the random conversations they hear on South Street. Last but not least, there’s the free-jazz one-two punch of “Outerspace” and “Inner Gift.” The former is a Sun Ra cover and the latter sounds like a tribute to John Coltrane’s “Ascension.”
Despite the wealth of good ideas on display, Black Ben ends up being Need New Body’s weakest album because of its atrocious sequencing. On previous albums, the least inspired tracks were brief, few and far between. Black Ben, on the other hand, gives you the crap in concentrated doses. Take, for example, the three-song medley of “Abstract Dancers,” “Pearl Crusher” and “Pax N Alf” near the album’s end, which is basically four minutes of the band abusing their samplers and flat-handing their keyboards. If these tracks were scattered across the album, they’d probably be tolerable palate cleansers. Grouped together, though, the medley only serves to give more ammunition to critics who already think that Need New Body isn’t up to much.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.neednewbody.com
Label Website: http://www.5rc.com
Need New Body’s first two albums, especially 2003’s UFO, had a surprisingly high signal-to-noise ratio, and their latest release Where’s Black Ben? certainly gets off to a good start. On opening track “Brite Tha’ Day,” the rhythm section lays down a funk groove that would make the Ohio Players proud. It is quickly sabotaged by shards of feedback and some of the most intentionally lame rapping ever recorded. Bradbury saves the day with a sung chorus that sounds like an AM radio crooner overdosing on nitrous oxide; he even bursts into laughter in mid-song, which should tell you a lot. About halfway through, the feedback and the rapping stops being irritating and instead becomes endearing. By straddling such a fine line and ending up on the RIGHT side of the divide, this song ends up being a perfect example of their aesthetic.
Another example of this can be found on the fifth song, “Mouth Breather.” During the first half of the song, one of the members hyperactively chants “one, two, check” into the microphone over and over again. Just when you’re ready to eject the CD and use it as a Frisbee, the song blossoms into a distorted keyboard fugue that sounds like the soundtrack to an old Super Nintendo game…and THEN they throw in a dulcimer solo! Other songs are less of a challenge to the listener. “Poppa B” is a catchy banjo-driven romp about love, friendship and dancing. “Peruvidia” mimics the tribal pounding and munchkin wailing of the Animal Collective. “So St Rx” is a hilarious and danceable tribute to downtown Philly, in which the band members expertly recreate the random conversations they hear on South Street. Last but not least, there’s the free-jazz one-two punch of “Outerspace” and “Inner Gift.” The former is a Sun Ra cover and the latter sounds like a tribute to John Coltrane’s “Ascension.”
Despite the wealth of good ideas on display, Black Ben ends up being Need New Body’s weakest album because of its atrocious sequencing. On previous albums, the least inspired tracks were brief, few and far between. Black Ben, on the other hand, gives you the crap in concentrated doses. Take, for example, the three-song medley of “Abstract Dancers,” “Pearl Crusher” and “Pax N Alf” near the album’s end, which is basically four minutes of the band abusing their samplers and flat-handing their keyboards. If these tracks were scattered across the album, they’d probably be tolerable palate cleansers. Grouped together, though, the medley only serves to give more ammunition to critics who already think that Need New Body isn’t up to much.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.neednewbody.com
Label Website: http://www.5rc.com
September 12, 2005
Rogue Wave "10:1"
Rogue Wave’s Sub Pop debut, Out of the Shadows, was nothing more than a reworked version of their debut album from a year before. Thus, it’s been a bit of a wait for new Rogue Wave material, and 10:1 is the first single from the band’s highly anticipated second album, Descended from Vultures. The title track is a blistering rocker; so impressive it is, it will make you forget all about their first album. Zach Rogue sounds like he’s singing from the bottom of a well, but that’s okay, because it really sounds cool. The organ grinding’s cool, too. Overall, it’s an explosive little number.
The other three songs are exclusive numbers and are a bit mellower, but, again, that’s okay, too, because the songs are delicate and pretty and charming. The harmony and the downbeat music of “Interruptions” can best be described as “sounds like 1974.” “Wait for It” is a pretty acoustic number that kinda has a stripped-down Mercury Rev feel to it, and Zach’s singing is simply wonderful. “Crush the Camera” is a mellow country-rock number, which, again, is quite pretty.
So you’ve got one part rocking and three parts pretty. Sounds like a great combination! 10:1 is a nice little sample, and if this little taste is any indication, then Descended from Vultures might just be a terrific album.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.roguewavemusic.com
Label Website: http://www.subpop.com
The other three songs are exclusive numbers and are a bit mellower, but, again, that’s okay, too, because the songs are delicate and pretty and charming. The harmony and the downbeat music of “Interruptions” can best be described as “sounds like 1974.” “Wait for It” is a pretty acoustic number that kinda has a stripped-down Mercury Rev feel to it, and Zach’s singing is simply wonderful. “Crush the Camera” is a mellow country-rock number, which, again, is quite pretty.
So you’ve got one part rocking and three parts pretty. Sounds like a great combination! 10:1 is a nice little sample, and if this little taste is any indication, then Descended from Vultures might just be a terrific album.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.roguewavemusic.com
Label Website: http://www.subpop.com
This Microwave World "Red States"
Keeping up with the Austin music scene can be a simultaneously exciting and frustrating task. There are frequent infusions of new blood; bands come, go and splinter off into new permutations on a monthly basis. Of course, this occasionally means that a potentially great band will dissolve just when they seem to be getting started. This Microwave World serves as a perfect example. After their second EP, the band broke out of the “electro-clash” ghetto by trading in their drum machine for a real drummer. It was the best thing that ever could’ve happened to them. Their subsequent EP Love Your Zine Let’s Go to Bed found them carving their own niche in the increasingly crowded world of dance-punk, and their live shows grew ever more intense. Red States, their long-awaited debut album, was supposed to capitalize on this increasing momentum by setting the local music scene ablaze. Unfortunately, the band decided to break up mere weeks before its official release.
Like front man Sean O’Neal other (and equally beloved) band the Arm,
This Microwave World’s sound can be broken down to a few basic elements: high-pitched organs, vigorously strummed guitars, hard metronomic drumming, tuneful bass lines and sneered vocals. Unlike the Arm, TMW place a much greater emphasis on melody, which means little more than that the vocals are sung instead of shouted. You won’t confuse this band with the New Pornographers any time soon; the only real harmonies on this record come when Spoon front man Britt Daniel contributes background vocals to “The Party Line.” The band has an unwavering dedication to its sound, which can make Red States a bit of a tough slog despite its brief duration. Each of its 10 songs would sound great on a mix tape, but when placed next to each other on an album the differences between them become increasingly difficult to spot.
There are three songs on Red States, though, that achieve near-classic status. Second track “You Are a Riot” finds Sean O’Neal wailing in the upper range of his voice, something he doesn’t do very often, and his siren-like vocal delivery makes the music sound positively apocalyptic. “She’s Insecure” is one of the few songs that coalesce around an actual hook, and has a tick-tock drum part recorded so loudly that the snare drums sound like gunshots. Album closer “The Hours” is the album’s slowest song (which isn’t saying much). The interplay between O’Neal’s guitar and Evan Lawrence’s organ is especially fine, and the lyrics express a growing apathy toward the local scene: “We play music we don’t like anymore/You’re in places that you’ve been in before/I swear to God I can’t do this again.”
If the lyrics of “The Hours” reflect the band’s true feelings, then it might be for the best that This Microwave World is no more. The rest of us, though, have been robbed of a chance to see yet another promising Austin band slowly inch itself toward greatness. At least I have these 10 songs to remember them by. I can put them on random mix CDs to mail to out-of-towners, in an effort to convince them to move here on the premise that if they don’t, they’ll miss out on bands like this.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.thismicrowaveworld.com
Label Website: http://www.tightspotrecords.com
Like front man Sean O’Neal other (and equally beloved) band the Arm,
This Microwave World’s sound can be broken down to a few basic elements: high-pitched organs, vigorously strummed guitars, hard metronomic drumming, tuneful bass lines and sneered vocals. Unlike the Arm, TMW place a much greater emphasis on melody, which means little more than that the vocals are sung instead of shouted. You won’t confuse this band with the New Pornographers any time soon; the only real harmonies on this record come when Spoon front man Britt Daniel contributes background vocals to “The Party Line.” The band has an unwavering dedication to its sound, which can make Red States a bit of a tough slog despite its brief duration. Each of its 10 songs would sound great on a mix tape, but when placed next to each other on an album the differences between them become increasingly difficult to spot.
There are three songs on Red States, though, that achieve near-classic status. Second track “You Are a Riot” finds Sean O’Neal wailing in the upper range of his voice, something he doesn’t do very often, and his siren-like vocal delivery makes the music sound positively apocalyptic. “She’s Insecure” is one of the few songs that coalesce around an actual hook, and has a tick-tock drum part recorded so loudly that the snare drums sound like gunshots. Album closer “The Hours” is the album’s slowest song (which isn’t saying much). The interplay between O’Neal’s guitar and Evan Lawrence’s organ is especially fine, and the lyrics express a growing apathy toward the local scene: “We play music we don’t like anymore/You’re in places that you’ve been in before/I swear to God I can’t do this again.”
If the lyrics of “The Hours” reflect the band’s true feelings, then it might be for the best that This Microwave World is no more. The rest of us, though, have been robbed of a chance to see yet another promising Austin band slowly inch itself toward greatness. At least I have these 10 songs to remember them by. I can put them on random mix CDs to mail to out-of-towners, in an effort to convince them to move here on the premise that if they don’t, they’ll miss out on bands like this.
--Sean Padilla
Artist Website: http://www.thismicrowaveworld.com
Label Website: http://www.tightspotrecords.com
September 10, 2005
Lichens "The Psychic Nature of Being"
Just because Lichens is the project of TV On The Radio/90 Day Men guitarist Robert A Lowe II, you should not expect it to sound like either of those bands. Lichens is so different from either band, one might not know of the connection based upon mere listening. The Psychic Nature of Being, Lichens' proper debut, constists of three slow, long and heavy soundscapes, all of which were improvised without overdubs. Though the three mostly consist of glacial-like drones, they are augmented with acoustic guitar and vocal manipuations, as well as other interesting little tidbits such as percussion and loops. The overall result sounds not unlike a John Carpenter film as scored by Brian Eno.
The first two pieces, "Kirlian Auras" and "Shore Line Scoring" are seemingly interchangable, as the drone doesn't differ all that much, and if you weren't paying attention, you would be hard-pressed to know where one ended and the other began. The first part of the twenty-minute "You Are Excrement If You Can Turn Yourself Into Gold," falls into the same category, but at the ten minute mark, Lowe ditches the drone in favor of guitar, synth, bells and what sounds like a very faint sitar. He incorporates all of these sounds for the next ten minutes, brining The Psychic Nature of Being to a beautiful, blissful conclusion.
Though Lichens is quite different than Lowe's previous and current bands, Lichens is still a beautiful and sometimes disturbing project. It will be interesting to see how he applies these ideas to the upcoming TV On The Radio album.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.kranky.net/artists/lichens.html
Label Website: http://www.kranky.net
The first two pieces, "Kirlian Auras" and "Shore Line Scoring" are seemingly interchangable, as the drone doesn't differ all that much, and if you weren't paying attention, you would be hard-pressed to know where one ended and the other began. The first part of the twenty-minute "You Are Excrement If You Can Turn Yourself Into Gold," falls into the same category, but at the ten minute mark, Lowe ditches the drone in favor of guitar, synth, bells and what sounds like a very faint sitar. He incorporates all of these sounds for the next ten minutes, brining The Psychic Nature of Being to a beautiful, blissful conclusion.
Though Lichens is quite different than Lowe's previous and current bands, Lichens is still a beautiful and sometimes disturbing project. It will be interesting to see how he applies these ideas to the upcoming TV On The Radio album.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.kranky.net/artists/lichens.html
Label Website: http://www.kranky.net
September 09, 2005
Chin Up Chin Up "S/T"
Chicago's Chin Up Chin Up history has had a great deal of sadness, yet it's one that is seemingly hopeful and ultimately uplifting, one that shows the power of perseverence through tragedy. In February 2004, bassist and founding member Chris Saathoff was killed by a drunk driver. The band had recently completed demos for its upcoming full length album, We Should Have Never Lived Like We Were Skyscrapers, and his death sent the band into a tailspin. Had they decided to split up would have been understandable, but instead of giving into tragedy, they pressed onward, releasing their debut album last fall, to much criticial acclaim.
Chin Up Chin Up is an expanded reissue of the band's debut EP, which they self-released in 2002. As self-released debut records often do, Chin Up Chin Up captures the young Chicago band in its formidable years, as they had yet to develop their smooth indie-rock post-rock groove later heard on Skyscrapers. "Virginia Don't Drown," which the band would soon rerecord, starts off the EP, and this version is much looser and somewhat slower than the dense (and excellent) album version. Other songs, such as "Fuck You, Elton John" and "Pillage the Village" are not without their charm, even if they are a little bit plodding a tad generic math-rock in sound and are not quite as well-developed. On "For All the Tanning Salons in Texas" and "The Soccer Mom Gets Her Fix," the band starts to develop the ideas that made their debut album wonderful; again, these ideas are loose and not quite as polished, but they aren't bad, either. Expanding the album with three songs of later vintage--two remixes of album songs and a new number, "Falconz and Vulcanz," gives the record a grander feel, but these songs don't quite have the same magic as the original album versions and they kind of feel out of place here as well.
In perhaps a fitting twist, the reissue of Chin Up Chin Up coincided with the conviction and jail sentencing of Saathoff's murderer. Perhaps this is a fitting way to close the paniful first chapter of Chin Up Chin Up's life. Here's to Chin Up Chin Up's future.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.chinupchinup.com
Label Website: http://www.flameshovel.com
Label Website: http://www.recordlabelrecordlabel.com
Chin Up Chin Up is an expanded reissue of the band's debut EP, which they self-released in 2002. As self-released debut records often do, Chin Up Chin Up captures the young Chicago band in its formidable years, as they had yet to develop their smooth indie-rock post-rock groove later heard on Skyscrapers. "Virginia Don't Drown," which the band would soon rerecord, starts off the EP, and this version is much looser and somewhat slower than the dense (and excellent) album version. Other songs, such as "Fuck You, Elton John" and "Pillage the Village" are not without their charm, even if they are a little bit plodding a tad generic math-rock in sound and are not quite as well-developed. On "For All the Tanning Salons in Texas" and "The Soccer Mom Gets Her Fix," the band starts to develop the ideas that made their debut album wonderful; again, these ideas are loose and not quite as polished, but they aren't bad, either. Expanding the album with three songs of later vintage--two remixes of album songs and a new number, "Falconz and Vulcanz," gives the record a grander feel, but these songs don't quite have the same magic as the original album versions and they kind of feel out of place here as well.
In perhaps a fitting twist, the reissue of Chin Up Chin Up coincided with the conviction and jail sentencing of Saathoff's murderer. Perhaps this is a fitting way to close the paniful first chapter of Chin Up Chin Up's life. Here's to Chin Up Chin Up's future.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.chinupchinup.com
Label Website: http://www.flameshovel.com
Label Website: http://www.recordlabelrecordlabel.com
Hail Social "Hail Social"
Hail Social's greatest asset is restraint. The music world is already oversaturated with bands making music that sounds "like Weezer meets Spoon meets The Cars meets Franz Ferdinand." These bands fail to cause much excitement in part because they can't restrain the influence of their influences. The result? A band that appeals to the superficial nature of music listeners and a record that sounds so been there, done that that ultimately it causes cynicism among listeners who expect something more than stylistic rehash. (Let's not even talk about how frustrating such bands are for music writers.)
Though Philadelphia's Hail Social's style sounds familiar--a poppy dance-rock sound that's a blend of post-punk nor new wave-tinged indie-rock that never really sounds like either--but it's to their credit that they do a good job of breaking from the monotony of today's music scene. Though Hail Social is brief, such brevity ultimately makes the record quite succinct; the music sounds fresh and it never bores. The Peter Hook-esque bass lines are addictive, and Dayve Hawk's singing, which sounds not unlike Rivers Cuomo on a Howard Jones tip, is quite appealing. Whether it's a hard, upbeat rocker like "Hands Are Tied" and "Track #1" or it's a mellower dance-pop groove like "Repetition" or "More Time," the results are the same--just pleasant, intelligent pop music that's not snooty like Interpol or superficial like Hot Hot Heat.
Hail Social's mission is simple: make great pop music that's not too hard but not too soft, either. In this, they succeed, and what they do, they do quite well. In a sea of over-serious po-faced records, Hail Social is merely a fun record, fun for listening in the car and probably great for parties, too.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.hailsocial.com
Label Website: http://www.polyvinylrecords.com
Though Philadelphia's Hail Social's style sounds familiar--a poppy dance-rock sound that's a blend of post-punk nor new wave-tinged indie-rock that never really sounds like either--but it's to their credit that they do a good job of breaking from the monotony of today's music scene. Though Hail Social is brief, such brevity ultimately makes the record quite succinct; the music sounds fresh and it never bores. The Peter Hook-esque bass lines are addictive, and Dayve Hawk's singing, which sounds not unlike Rivers Cuomo on a Howard Jones tip, is quite appealing. Whether it's a hard, upbeat rocker like "Hands Are Tied" and "Track #1" or it's a mellower dance-pop groove like "Repetition" or "More Time," the results are the same--just pleasant, intelligent pop music that's not snooty like Interpol or superficial like Hot Hot Heat.
Hail Social's mission is simple: make great pop music that's not too hard but not too soft, either. In this, they succeed, and what they do, they do quite well. In a sea of over-serious po-faced records, Hail Social is merely a fun record, fun for listening in the car and probably great for parties, too.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.hailsocial.com
Label Website: http://www.polyvinylrecords.com
September 08, 2005
Cave In "Perfect Pitch Black
I'm sure Cave In realizes that it's time to make up for lost ground. Their last album, Antenna, was an excellent record and one of the best releases of 2003. Before that, Cave In's third album, the utterly breathtaking masterpiece Jupiter, was larger than life, and its heavy atmospherics and breathtaking music only improves with time. Building upon Jupiter's heights, Antenna was ambitious; it was heavy, it was poppy, and it should have been a critical success. But RCA, their label at the time, dropped the ball on Cave In's success, and the world really missed out on a great album from a great band. Of course, not everyone was happy with Antenna; many longtime fans bemoaned how slick and radio-friendly it sounded. Some wished that they would return to their roots and grace the world with another heavy, in-your-face record like Until Your Heart Stops.
Perfect Pitch Black isn't a return to those days, but unlike Antenna, those days aren't neglected, either. Calling this record a proper follow-up to Antenna might be somewhat dubious, as most of the songs found here have been in Cave In's vault for the past few years. Still, it's quite clear that the band felt it necessary to revisit some of their older, harder ideas, and it's to their credit that they did so without distancing themselves from their most recent accomplishments. Some fans will be happy to hear bassist Caleb Scofield's grumbling hardcore vocals on "The World Is In Your Way" and "Trepanning," and yes, it is a most welcome treat to hear those rumbles of the past. Thankfully, such moments don't overwhelm Perfect Pitch Black; spending too much time trying to recreate the past would be counterproductive, and for a great band like Cave In, it would rightfully be a shame if all they did at this point was try to recreate the magic of their previous records' triumphs.
But Cave In's magic has always been the Stephen Brodsky/Adam McGrath relationship. McGrath's hard-as-hell guitar work has proved the yin to Brodsky's softer, more melodic yang. The combination works quite well; it doesn't seem much of a stretch for the band to go from harder moments like "Trepanning" and "Off To Ruin" to much softer, headier material like the space-rock "Paranormal" or "Down the Drain," on which Brodsky's soft singing fits in nicely with some dark, heavy and slightly ambient soundscapes. Brodsky can go from yelling rather hard to creating softer, more melancholy material like "Tension In The Ranks," and it shows that the young man has really impressive range. Heck, Cave In just wants to rock, as the straightforward "Droned" and "Screaming In Your Sleep" prove. On those songs, Cave In does nothing more than really boogie, and it's obvious that Brodsky and company are simply having a fun time playing great rock & roll. That the mixture of these different facets never sounds contrived is simply part of Cave In's magic.
It's obvious that Cave In is much more interested in moving forward with their sound. While Perfect Pitch Black might not be Cave In's most obvious step forward, it is clear that the band definitely has some really great ideas formulating in their belly, and that's ultimately what makes Perfect Pitch Black so promising. As a roundup of various material from the past few years, it's incredibly cohesive; as a collection of new material, it might not be Cave In's strongest record, but it's still one that anyone who likes Cave In would be happy with, and for those who haven't heard this wonderful and terribly underrated band, Perfect Pitch Black is a great place to start. For those still skeptical about what Cave In can do, all I can say is this: wait.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.myspace.com/cavein
Label Website: http://www.hydraheadrecords.com
Perfect Pitch Black isn't a return to those days, but unlike Antenna, those days aren't neglected, either. Calling this record a proper follow-up to Antenna might be somewhat dubious, as most of the songs found here have been in Cave In's vault for the past few years. Still, it's quite clear that the band felt it necessary to revisit some of their older, harder ideas, and it's to their credit that they did so without distancing themselves from their most recent accomplishments. Some fans will be happy to hear bassist Caleb Scofield's grumbling hardcore vocals on "The World Is In Your Way" and "Trepanning," and yes, it is a most welcome treat to hear those rumbles of the past. Thankfully, such moments don't overwhelm Perfect Pitch Black; spending too much time trying to recreate the past would be counterproductive, and for a great band like Cave In, it would rightfully be a shame if all they did at this point was try to recreate the magic of their previous records' triumphs.
But Cave In's magic has always been the Stephen Brodsky/Adam McGrath relationship. McGrath's hard-as-hell guitar work has proved the yin to Brodsky's softer, more melodic yang. The combination works quite well; it doesn't seem much of a stretch for the band to go from harder moments like "Trepanning" and "Off To Ruin" to much softer, headier material like the space-rock "Paranormal" or "Down the Drain," on which Brodsky's soft singing fits in nicely with some dark, heavy and slightly ambient soundscapes. Brodsky can go from yelling rather hard to creating softer, more melancholy material like "Tension In The Ranks," and it shows that the young man has really impressive range. Heck, Cave In just wants to rock, as the straightforward "Droned" and "Screaming In Your Sleep" prove. On those songs, Cave In does nothing more than really boogie, and it's obvious that Brodsky and company are simply having a fun time playing great rock & roll. That the mixture of these different facets never sounds contrived is simply part of Cave In's magic.
It's obvious that Cave In is much more interested in moving forward with their sound. While Perfect Pitch Black might not be Cave In's most obvious step forward, it is clear that the band definitely has some really great ideas formulating in their belly, and that's ultimately what makes Perfect Pitch Black so promising. As a roundup of various material from the past few years, it's incredibly cohesive; as a collection of new material, it might not be Cave In's strongest record, but it's still one that anyone who likes Cave In would be happy with, and for those who haven't heard this wonderful and terribly underrated band, Perfect Pitch Black is a great place to start. For those still skeptical about what Cave In can do, all I can say is this: wait.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.myspace.com/cavein
Label Website: http://www.hydraheadrecords.com
September 06, 2005
Richard Jobson "Ten-Thirty on a Summer Night & An Afternoon in Company"
"I'm very honoured you think those records are very nice, because most people think they're awful, particularly pretentious," Richard Jobson, 1986.
The notion of a punk rocker eschewing the music scene in favor of releasing poetry albums might seem extremely pretentious, and perhaps on some level it is, but that's exactly what Richard Jobson did. In the early 1980s, Jobson was the leader of The Skids, but having tired of that scene, he decided to embark on a career as a poet and writer--in 2003, he would adapt one of his books, 1987's 16 Years of Alcohol, into a screenplay, which has since become a successful independent film. Ten-Thirty on a Summer Night & An Afternoon in Company collects two of those albums plus a handful of compilation tracks.
Ten Thirty On A Summer Night, released in 1982, is actually based upon a novel by Marguerite Duras. In this story a woman, Maria, discovers her husband Pierre is cheating on her with her best friend, Claire. While on vacation, she has a run-in with a murderer on the run, Rodrigo. It's a fascinating and beautiful story, and Jobson's interpretation is enhanced greatly by his use of musical accompaniment, from tribal drums to gentle acoustic guitars, it's hard to think of this as just 'poetry.' The piano accompaniment by Cecile Bruynoghe throughout is simply breathtaking, and "The Kiss, The Dance, and the Death" is one of the most moving spoken word pieces I have ever heard. Though one initially might not think so, his words are actually made more effective by his thick Scottish accent.
An Afternoon in Company was Jobson's second solo album, though it was not released until 1984. Unlike his previous record, this collection is not a cohesive story; rather, it is a collection of sixteen brief poems, written as a recollection of his post-Skids world travel. These pieces may be brief, but they are quite pretty, again due to the gorgeous musical accompaniment. This time, he has the help of members of Tuxedomoon, Josef K and Durutti Column. Their assistance makes these brief pieces quite moving, especially "Jericho," "Autumn," and "Verbier," which features some of Vini Reilly's most affecting accompaniment. Though Jobson occasionally tends to be somewhat melodramatic in his reading, his presentation doesn't disguise the beauty of his words. The bonus tracks mainly continue An Afternoon in Company's theme, the most notable of which, "The Happiness of Lonely," is a later recording and features Virginia Astley on piano.
Jobson's talents might not have been appreciated in the mid 1980s--and, to be honest, there is a bit of pretense involved in spoken word recordings--it doesn't change the fact that he was and is a talented writer and composer. Ten-Thirty on a Summer Night & An Afternoon in Company might be pretentious, but that doesn't change its beauty, and it's a remarkable collection that highlights the magic of the spoken word.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.ltmpub.freeserve.co.uk/rjobsonbio.html
Label Website: http://www.ltmpub.freeserve.co.uk/
The notion of a punk rocker eschewing the music scene in favor of releasing poetry albums might seem extremely pretentious, and perhaps on some level it is, but that's exactly what Richard Jobson did. In the early 1980s, Jobson was the leader of The Skids, but having tired of that scene, he decided to embark on a career as a poet and writer--in 2003, he would adapt one of his books, 1987's 16 Years of Alcohol, into a screenplay, which has since become a successful independent film. Ten-Thirty on a Summer Night & An Afternoon in Company collects two of those albums plus a handful of compilation tracks.
Ten Thirty On A Summer Night, released in 1982, is actually based upon a novel by Marguerite Duras. In this story a woman, Maria, discovers her husband Pierre is cheating on her with her best friend, Claire. While on vacation, she has a run-in with a murderer on the run, Rodrigo. It's a fascinating and beautiful story, and Jobson's interpretation is enhanced greatly by his use of musical accompaniment, from tribal drums to gentle acoustic guitars, it's hard to think of this as just 'poetry.' The piano accompaniment by Cecile Bruynoghe throughout is simply breathtaking, and "The Kiss, The Dance, and the Death" is one of the most moving spoken word pieces I have ever heard. Though one initially might not think so, his words are actually made more effective by his thick Scottish accent.
An Afternoon in Company was Jobson's second solo album, though it was not released until 1984. Unlike his previous record, this collection is not a cohesive story; rather, it is a collection of sixteen brief poems, written as a recollection of his post-Skids world travel. These pieces may be brief, but they are quite pretty, again due to the gorgeous musical accompaniment. This time, he has the help of members of Tuxedomoon, Josef K and Durutti Column. Their assistance makes these brief pieces quite moving, especially "Jericho," "Autumn," and "Verbier," which features some of Vini Reilly's most affecting accompaniment. Though Jobson occasionally tends to be somewhat melodramatic in his reading, his presentation doesn't disguise the beauty of his words. The bonus tracks mainly continue An Afternoon in Company's theme, the most notable of which, "The Happiness of Lonely," is a later recording and features Virginia Astley on piano.
Jobson's talents might not have been appreciated in the mid 1980s--and, to be honest, there is a bit of pretense involved in spoken word recordings--it doesn't change the fact that he was and is a talented writer and composer. Ten-Thirty on a Summer Night & An Afternoon in Company might be pretentious, but that doesn't change its beauty, and it's a remarkable collection that highlights the magic of the spoken word.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.ltmpub.freeserve.co.uk/rjobsonbio.html
Label Website: http://www.ltmpub.freeserve.co.uk/
Kevin Tihista "Home Demons, Volume 1"
Kevin Tihista may very well be the best pop composer you've never heard. He's a Brian Wilson on a Jandek budget, and as hyperbolic as these things may seem, it's true; Tihista has released three extremely wonderful albums over the past few years and had a brief stint on a major label; his most recent record, Wake Up Captain, was easily one of the best records of 2004. One must consider, though, that Tihista makes his music by himself in his tiny Chicago apartment, only wandering out now and then to a nearby studio, where like-minded souls await this pop maestro. Discovering Tihista naturally elicits two feelings: joy that you've discovered his music and regret that you hadn't heard of him sooner.
If one were to describe Tihista's songwriting in one word, it would be simple: romantic. His songs are pretty and heartfelt; he has the keen ability to capture the most basic of emotions, and what he does, he does quite well. "Can I Count On You?" is as soft and as sensitive and as pleading as the title would suggest; "I Don't Blame You" offers up an apology in a beautiful, heartfelt way; "Sweet" (a demo version of a Wake Up, Captain song) is just as sweet and as saccharine as you'd expect from a song called "Sweet." His cover of Dave Mason's "We Just Disagree" is also beautiful, and it passes for an original Tihista composition; if it leaves you scratching your head thinking "Have I heard this before?" then you are not alone.
For most of Home Demons,Tihista played and arranged these songs from the confines of his small apartment, leaving the listener to go think, "Wait...these are HOME DEMOS?!??!?!" One listen to the "kind of sucks" song "15 Hundred Miles" will win you over. It's a beautiful, sunny pop song, clearly inspired by the Beach Boys, but clearly an original song all its own--and it makes you realize just what kind of wonderful service Parasol Records is doing by releasing his music. But not everything works; "Jim Henson's Blues/You're Not Bad" and "Do You Know What We Should Do Now?" are kind of self-indulgent rockers that don't quite share the overall feel of the record. (And, for the record, the "track 11 kind of sucks" comment is in reference to the British version of Home Demons, Volume 1, which contains twenty tracks.)
Not only is Tihista talented, he's also extremely prolific. Home Demons, Volume One is merely the first in a multivolume series; rumor has it that he has ten CD's worth of material in this 'demon' form stockpiled for release. If such is true, then the world's in for a real treat. This reclusive pop composer's name might not mean much to you, but please, please, do yourself a favor and rectify this situation! You'll be most glad you did.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.parasol.com/artists/kevintihista.asp
Label Website: http://www.parasol.com
If one were to describe Tihista's songwriting in one word, it would be simple: romantic. His songs are pretty and heartfelt; he has the keen ability to capture the most basic of emotions, and what he does, he does quite well. "Can I Count On You?" is as soft and as sensitive and as pleading as the title would suggest; "I Don't Blame You" offers up an apology in a beautiful, heartfelt way; "Sweet" (a demo version of a Wake Up, Captain song) is just as sweet and as saccharine as you'd expect from a song called "Sweet." His cover of Dave Mason's "We Just Disagree" is also beautiful, and it passes for an original Tihista composition; if it leaves you scratching your head thinking "Have I heard this before?" then you are not alone.
For most of Home Demons,Tihista played and arranged these songs from the confines of his small apartment, leaving the listener to go think, "Wait...these are HOME DEMOS?!??!?!" One listen to the "kind of sucks" song "15 Hundred Miles" will win you over. It's a beautiful, sunny pop song, clearly inspired by the Beach Boys, but clearly an original song all its own--and it makes you realize just what kind of wonderful service Parasol Records is doing by releasing his music. But not everything works; "Jim Henson's Blues/You're Not Bad" and "Do You Know What We Should Do Now?" are kind of self-indulgent rockers that don't quite share the overall feel of the record. (And, for the record, the "track 11 kind of sucks" comment is in reference to the British version of Home Demons, Volume 1, which contains twenty tracks.)
Not only is Tihista talented, he's also extremely prolific. Home Demons, Volume One is merely the first in a multivolume series; rumor has it that he has ten CD's worth of material in this 'demon' form stockpiled for release. If such is true, then the world's in for a real treat. This reclusive pop composer's name might not mean much to you, but please, please, do yourself a favor and rectify this situation! You'll be most glad you did.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.parasol.com/artists/kevintihista.asp
Label Website: http://www.parasol.com
September 04, 2005
California Oranges "Souvenirs"
What is it with indie-pop bands ditching the twee and making really, really glossy, radio friendly pop? It's been happening quite a bit lately, it seems--the most notable one being The Orange Peels--and I've gotta say, this is a trend I like. Well, count California Oranges in with this latest trend, and let's just say that this is a welcome thing, because their third album, Souvenirs, is a wonderfully succinct treasure chest of pop goodness. Why should you expect any less from them? Considering that frontman John Conley led the legendary pop band Holiday Flyer, it's understandable why the band sounds like a group of people who are experts at making sweet pop music
Souvenirs starts with the instantly catchy "Three Orange Tigers," a song that sounds like a more twee Imperial Teen, accentuated with great boy/girl vocals, loud, crunchy guitars and some extremely catchy synth lines. While the lyrics might be a little too cutesy for my tastes, it's hard to deny the song's overall power. That initial power never ceases; in fact, Souvenirs grows stronger. Whether it's the hard-rocking (and I say hard with absolutely no trace of irony) "Run Away," "Next Season," or "Racing Here," or it's the sweet pop of "Falling Back" or "Time You Spend," Souvenirs never falls guilty to the indie-pop trappings of being too twee or too wimpy. Unlike previous records, vocalist Verna Brock's voice is never overwhelmed by the music behind her, with each song having a nice balance between vocals and instruments. Each song is glossed with a nice pop sheen, clearly indicating that a lot of love and care went into making this record sound awesome. Thankfully, that bold gambit worked, and the results are simply wonderful.
Souvenirs is a great-sounding record, and it has an oddly out-of-date feel. It sounds like a record that should have been released ten years ago, back when bands like Letters to Cleo, Eve's Plum, The Posies and Weezer ruled the airwaves. Still, it's a great pleasure now, and it's an album that's definitely worth your time.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.thesinkingships.com
Label Website: http://www.darla.com
Souvenirs starts with the instantly catchy "Three Orange Tigers," a song that sounds like a more twee Imperial Teen, accentuated with great boy/girl vocals, loud, crunchy guitars and some extremely catchy synth lines. While the lyrics might be a little too cutesy for my tastes, it's hard to deny the song's overall power. That initial power never ceases; in fact, Souvenirs grows stronger. Whether it's the hard-rocking (and I say hard with absolutely no trace of irony) "Run Away," "Next Season," or "Racing Here," or it's the sweet pop of "Falling Back" or "Time You Spend," Souvenirs never falls guilty to the indie-pop trappings of being too twee or too wimpy. Unlike previous records, vocalist Verna Brock's voice is never overwhelmed by the music behind her, with each song having a nice balance between vocals and instruments. Each song is glossed with a nice pop sheen, clearly indicating that a lot of love and care went into making this record sound awesome. Thankfully, that bold gambit worked, and the results are simply wonderful.
Souvenirs is a great-sounding record, and it has an oddly out-of-date feel. It sounds like a record that should have been released ten years ago, back when bands like Letters to Cleo, Eve's Plum, The Posies and Weezer ruled the airwaves. Still, it's a great pleasure now, and it's an album that's definitely worth your time.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.thesinkingships.com
Label Website: http://www.darla.com
September 02, 2005
Tenement Halls "Knitting Needles & Bicycle Bells"
Chris Lopez’ previous band, The Rock*A*Teens, dealt in dark rock music covered in an unholy amount of reverb. Some people dug it, other people thought they should get over it, because, well, they were too good a band to hide their pretty melodies underneath such an ungodly-and ultimately monotonous-racket. One always suspected that underneath all the noise were some really great songs, and those who saw the band live experienced their songs without the reverb overdose. In 2001, the band broke up, and four years later, Chris Lopez has returned with a new project, Tenement Halls. Though he still sounds like a Southern version of Gene Love Jezebel’s Jay Aston, thankfully, he’s all but abandoned the reverb, allowing his songwriting to finally stand out.
Knitting Needles & Bicycle Bells is deeply indebted to the past-especially 60s pop, but it’s not a case of a band imitating a sound. For Tenement Halls, Lopez took inspiration from bands like the Kinks and the Beatles, and applied it to mid-90s indie-rock as well as the Rock*A*Teen’s sensibilities. In fact, the rootsy music and the dank lyrics might lead you to think you were listening to the bizarro-world version of The Shins. At its worse, Tenement Halls sounds like a rip-off of label mates Destroyer, with Lopez’s singing occasionally taking on an over-the-top turn not unlike what you’d expect from Dan Bejar. But unlike those bands, Lopez’s songs are sad and depressing. On “Marry Me” he sings with a pained lilt in his voice, calling out to the woman who abandoned him at the altar, singing as if she were still in his life. Then there’s “Starless Night,” a song with a wonderfully upbeat melody but with downright depressing lyrics.
The main problem with Knitting Needles & Bicycle Bells is similar to the main complaint of the Rock*A*Teens-he can write great songs and catchy melodies, but he buries them in poor mixing. Listening to Knitting Needles is frustrating, because one wishes that the songs didn’t sound so damn muddy. It’s hard to pay attention, because the record starts to sound monotonous two or three songs in, because even though the songs seem to have some interesting arrangements-toy pianos, wurlitzers, banjos, strings-it’s downright impossible to tell what’s going on. When the songs are a bit more stripped down, like on “Promise a Place,” the record sounds really good, and one wishes that the mixing process had produced more songs like this.
Tenement Halls could be a good start. There are some interesting ideas to be found here, but ultimately the record falls apart underneath a poor sound, and that’s a shame, because Lopez is much better than that. Knitting Needles & Bicycle Bells is a disappointment, and hopefully Lopez will rectify these problems when it comes time for the next record.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.mergerecords.com/band.php?band_id=105
Label Website: http://www.mergerecords.com
Knitting Needles & Bicycle Bells is deeply indebted to the past-especially 60s pop, but it’s not a case of a band imitating a sound. For Tenement Halls, Lopez took inspiration from bands like the Kinks and the Beatles, and applied it to mid-90s indie-rock as well as the Rock*A*Teen’s sensibilities. In fact, the rootsy music and the dank lyrics might lead you to think you were listening to the bizarro-world version of The Shins. At its worse, Tenement Halls sounds like a rip-off of label mates Destroyer, with Lopez’s singing occasionally taking on an over-the-top turn not unlike what you’d expect from Dan Bejar. But unlike those bands, Lopez’s songs are sad and depressing. On “Marry Me” he sings with a pained lilt in his voice, calling out to the woman who abandoned him at the altar, singing as if she were still in his life. Then there’s “Starless Night,” a song with a wonderfully upbeat melody but with downright depressing lyrics.
The main problem with Knitting Needles & Bicycle Bells is similar to the main complaint of the Rock*A*Teens-he can write great songs and catchy melodies, but he buries them in poor mixing. Listening to Knitting Needles is frustrating, because one wishes that the songs didn’t sound so damn muddy. It’s hard to pay attention, because the record starts to sound monotonous two or three songs in, because even though the songs seem to have some interesting arrangements-toy pianos, wurlitzers, banjos, strings-it’s downright impossible to tell what’s going on. When the songs are a bit more stripped down, like on “Promise a Place,” the record sounds really good, and one wishes that the mixing process had produced more songs like this.
Tenement Halls could be a good start. There are some interesting ideas to be found here, but ultimately the record falls apart underneath a poor sound, and that’s a shame, because Lopez is much better than that. Knitting Needles & Bicycle Bells is a disappointment, and hopefully Lopez will rectify these problems when it comes time for the next record.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.mergerecords.com/band.php?band_id=105
Label Website: http://www.mergerecords.com
The Carolines "Meet Me at the Marriott"
Back in 2003, a little band from Portland, Oregon released one of the best records of the year. Youth Electronics is still a great record, five years running. After an extended period of silence (grumble, grumble), it was easy to fear that this great young band had simply disappeared. But thank goodness, no! Though their silence has been frustrating, they have scraped together Meet Me at the Marriot, a three-song EP that’s a teaser for the band’s upcoming third album, and it’s good to learn that the band has lost none of the magic that made Youth Electronics so wonderful.
The first song, “Ooh Ooh Satisfied,” packs a hell of a punch; with a really tough guitar lick and a wonderful amount of “ooh ooh” accompaniment, the song’s feel is smooth, sophisticated and more than a little sexy. This song is one that simply burns with rock-hard intensity. The next song, “Too Late,” pours a lot of emotion into the rock machine, a power-pop love story for the heartbroken, and though it lacks the intensity of the first song, it’s still quite excellent. The final song, “Good for Me,” turns down the rock and turns up the melody; it’s a quiet but pretty love song, highlighted by Aaron Trueb’s angelic singing, and it sounds like a long-lost Badfinger outtake.
It’s good to know that The Carolines are still around, and Meet Me at the Marriot is an excellent jolt of pop-rock that makes me very excited about the prospect of their next full-length.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.thecarolines.com
The first song, “Ooh Ooh Satisfied,” packs a hell of a punch; with a really tough guitar lick and a wonderful amount of “ooh ooh” accompaniment, the song’s feel is smooth, sophisticated and more than a little sexy. This song is one that simply burns with rock-hard intensity. The next song, “Too Late,” pours a lot of emotion into the rock machine, a power-pop love story for the heartbroken, and though it lacks the intensity of the first song, it’s still quite excellent. The final song, “Good for Me,” turns down the rock and turns up the melody; it’s a quiet but pretty love song, highlighted by Aaron Trueb’s angelic singing, and it sounds like a long-lost Badfinger outtake.
It’s good to know that The Carolines are still around, and Meet Me at the Marriot is an excellent jolt of pop-rock that makes me very excited about the prospect of their next full-length.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.thecarolines.com
The Makers "Everybody Rise!"
The Makers have been making garage-rock since well before The Strokes had pubes, and they’ve been doing it quite well for almost as long. That they’ve been a bit of a secret for the few who know their name isn’t their fault; the world just hasn’t been ready for them. Sure, music trends have come and gone, but the Makers have remained rock-solid firm in their commitment to the principles of making quality rock and roll music. Fifteen years in, they’ve yet to make a disappointing record. That their latest album Everybody Rise! may very well be their masterpiece is saying a lot, as their previous album, 2002’s Strangest Parade, was damn near perfect.
Though there’s been a bit of a lineup change (veteran guitarist Tim Maker is back in the band, and they have a new drummer, Aaron), it doesn’t really affect the band’s music at all; the new line up is extremely tight, and from the first moments of Everybody Rise!, it’s instantly apparent that The Makers are back, baby.
And damn, they’ve delivered some of the best rock music 2005’s seen so far. From the joyous blues-rock punch of “Matter of Degrees” and the sly “Good as Gold” to the beautiful ballad “Ordinary Human Love,” The Makers cover every possible emotion. They get sexy (“Tiger of the Night”) but then they turn around and get rather tender (“Run with Me Tonight”) and they do so with natural grace and ease. Though they still have a sound that’s rough and rocky and reminiscent of the first decade of the Jagger/Richards collaboration, the fifteen-year-old Makers still sound better than the forty-five year old Rolling Stones.
Special love should be given to “The Story of You & I,” though, because it’s a song that has so much magic. With a Hammond organ riff that’s totally stolen from Bob Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone,” Michael Maker has composed a beautiful, beautiful love song. It’s about falling in love and not getting the love back you deserve, but it’s also a rather positive message: I love you, even though you totally broke my heart, but the feeling of love is greater than your cheatin’ heart. This song is so wonderful, it deserves to be pressed up on a seven inch and shipped to all the hip jukeboxes of the world, then it needs to make an appearance on The OC, and even though such things are kind of mainstream and lame, The Makers deserve the opportunity to show you how much they rule.
Everybody Rise! is simply a damn good rock record. No more, no less.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.themakersband.com
Label Website: http://www.killrockstars.com
Though there’s been a bit of a lineup change (veteran guitarist Tim Maker is back in the band, and they have a new drummer, Aaron), it doesn’t really affect the band’s music at all; the new line up is extremely tight, and from the first moments of Everybody Rise!, it’s instantly apparent that The Makers are back, baby.
And damn, they’ve delivered some of the best rock music 2005’s seen so far. From the joyous blues-rock punch of “Matter of Degrees” and the sly “Good as Gold” to the beautiful ballad “Ordinary Human Love,” The Makers cover every possible emotion. They get sexy (“Tiger of the Night”) but then they turn around and get rather tender (“Run with Me Tonight”) and they do so with natural grace and ease. Though they still have a sound that’s rough and rocky and reminiscent of the first decade of the Jagger/Richards collaboration, the fifteen-year-old Makers still sound better than the forty-five year old Rolling Stones.
Special love should be given to “The Story of You & I,” though, because it’s a song that has so much magic. With a Hammond organ riff that’s totally stolen from Bob Dylan’s “Like a Rolling Stone,” Michael Maker has composed a beautiful, beautiful love song. It’s about falling in love and not getting the love back you deserve, but it’s also a rather positive message: I love you, even though you totally broke my heart, but the feeling of love is greater than your cheatin’ heart. This song is so wonderful, it deserves to be pressed up on a seven inch and shipped to all the hip jukeboxes of the world, then it needs to make an appearance on The OC, and even though such things are kind of mainstream and lame, The Makers deserve the opportunity to show you how much they rule.
Everybody Rise! is simply a damn good rock record. No more, no less.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.themakersband.com
Label Website: http://www.killrockstars.com
September 01, 2005
Mon Frere "Real Vampires"
Seattle's Mon Frere is a two-boy, one-girl trio of rockers who enjoy the simple pleasures of a good song. Their debut EP, Real Vampires EP is a pretty snazzy collection of rock songs with a bit of a bite, due in large part to some rather rad synth parts and the passionate, lusty singing of Nouela Johnson. And despite the French band name and the record's title, there's nothing particularly 'gothy' about Mon Frere at all. Instead, they have a hard rock/new wave style, as heard on great songs like "Real Ultimate Power" and "Orcs Don't Know It." On songs like "Up Circle" and "Bunch of Broccoli," though, the band overwhelms Johnson's singing, forcing her to over-emote. But for the most part, her singing is a full-on blues-rock ass kicking in the tradition that one would have expected from the late, great Mia Zapata. Though they're not reinventing the wheel, Mon Frere's simply having a good time, and Real Vampires EP is a fun little debut record.
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.monfrere.net
Label Website: http://www.cakerecords.com
--Joseph Kyle
Artist Website: http://www.monfrere.net
Label Website: http://www.cakerecords.com
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