I hope your Valentine’s Day yesterday was full of love. If it wasn’t, try not to be bitter about it. I had myself a load of chocolate and tried not to feel guilty about it. My method of coping. If you’re down at all today though, perhaps today’s Pick Your Poison can provide some necessary cheering up. Great tracks today from Allies, The Cloud I’m Under, Imaginary Cities and Moving Units. Also, in the Soundcloud section, be sure to stream the Memoryhouse remix of that Seven Saturdays song, as well as the new one from Timber Timbre. Both very much worth your love and affection.
The members of Vivian Girls are nothing if not productive. Their first two records as a band were released within one year of each other in 2008 and 2009, but they didn’t put out anything new in 2010, unless you count the All Saints Day side project of “Kickball Katy” Goodman (paired with Gregg Foreman of Cat Power’s backing band), as they released an EP last year. But if you think that indicates maybe they’re not actually so productive, you haven’t glanced at what they have set for 2011. Cassie Ramone has already put out an album with her friend Kevin Morby of Woods under the name The Babies. She’ll additionally have a full solo record out later this year too. Goodman has her own solo side project (with backing band) under the name La Sera, and that self-titled debut album is out this week. Not only that, but next month the third Vivian Girls album, “Share the Joy” will be released. Four records in one year from the two principal members of Vivian Girls? Apparently most of that “down” time in 2010 was spent in the studio. As such, you can call Cassie and Katy any number of things, but lazy is not one of them. Tackling these projects one by one as they’re released (you can read a review of The Babies’ self-titled album here), let’s talk La Sera.
Vivian Girls’ sound for their first two records at least was pretty well affixed with the lo-fi label, given their penchant for fuzzed out guitars and very poor recording quality. There was a ramshackle punk ethos about it though, DIY in the best sort of way, with hooks sometimes sharp enough to cut you amidst all the disarray. Cassie Ramone is the primary singer and songwriter for Vivian Girls, though Goodman is never far behind in terms of adding vocal harmonies or even taking the lead herself on occasion. With La Sera she’s front and center where the spotlight is firmly affixed on her vocals and words and the way these songs on the self-titled debut are put together. The sound is generally much sparser and smoother than Vivian Girls, in that there’s less in the way of noisy electric guitars and other loud bits to put more emphasis on Goodman’s singing. On the slow-paced opening track “Beating Heart”, a very cleanly picked single guitar pairs up with Goodman’s voice and some serenely gorgeous backing harmonies. There’s a very lush and fragile feel to the track, and a louder, rustic-sounding electric guitar that emerges in the final minute of the song provides a nice assist in antiquating things just right. First single “Never Come Around” is much more fuller-sounding and classic-sounding effort, providing some echoes of some female-fronted pop from the 60s. At a mere 2 minutes long, it does a whole lot of damange for such a brief period of time. Not only does the hook come at you rapid-fire style, but the interweaving vocal harmony that emerges in the final 40 seconds succeeds at taking the track to the next level where it needs to be to firmly implant itself in your memory. The way “You’re Going to Cry” begins with a sweetly strummed acoustic guitar and a lightly punched snare/cymbal combination projects folk ideals at first before complicating things with double-tracked vocals and harmonies along with a smattering of electric guitar for good measure. For such a lyrically dark song, the rather upbeat mid-tempo melody is deceptive and just a little bit fun, much like the odd sense of wonderment in Goodman’s singing.
A track like “Sleeptalking” verges on surf rock, a bit jangly and relaxed but also without a whole lot of substance. It may clock in at under 2 minutes, but there are two verses, a bridge and a chorus that strikes at least 3 times all packed into an arrangement that isn’t particularly built to handle it. There’s too much trying to be accomplished and as a result things get overly simplified to the point where the song ends up being less effective than was hoped. “I Promise You” is very much a throwback girl group pop song, all lovelorn and infused with strong harmonies. An organ shows up near the end of the track and strongly aids in providing some additional warmth. You kind of get the impression that were things sped up significantly and washed over in layers of distortion that it’d make for a wonderful Vivian Girls track. Goodman’s alternately slower and sparser approach brings out much more of the emotion and that turns out to be a good thing. Despite the bright acoustic guitars and handclaps, “Left This World” doesn’t feel quite like a fully developed song for two reasons. First, Goodman’s vocal is surprisingly weak in this case, almost demo-like at moments. Secondly, the melody doesn’t go anywhere. By hitting the same chords over and over again, there’s something just a little unimaginative about it compared to much of what came before it. While “Devils Hearts Grow Gold” could serve to be just a little bit catchier, it does benefit from the double-tracked vocals and the sneaky addition of some steel guitar for just a hint of country twang. “Dove Into Love” retains a little bit of that as it stretches into a dreamier pop, even incorporating what sounds a lot like a flute near the end. It’s kind of funny that “Been Here Before” is exactly how the title describes it, and that’s all that really needs to be said. And “Lift Off” is a lighter, pretty delightful close to the album, but is problematic in its barely over a minute runtime. The song feels aborted shortly before it reaches full term. Give it another 30 seconds and a run through of the chorus and it could have been great instead of just pretty good.
What La Sera really proves, more than anything else, is that “Kickball Katy” Goodman is in fact more talented than she’s shown us previously. It’s less a case of us thinking she’s not talented and more a case of being a consistent second fiddle to her Vivian Girls cohort Cassie Ramone. By turning in a product that is 100% fully her, we’re now able to better grasp the scope of what she has to offer. Turns out, La Sera’s self-titled debut is pretty damn good. It’s no Vivian Girls, but it’ll do. There’s plenty of potential that’s only lightly explored here, and that leaves plenty of room to grow for the future. There are a handful of missteps, to be sure, and hopefully they’re the sort of mistakes you learn from and move on. Though it is a full 12 tracks, none of the songs make it to the 3 minute mark, and the entire thing clocks in at around 26 minutes. There’s no official cut-off point for going too short on an album, but you do want to make it seem more substantial than just your average EP. After all, Sufjan Stevens put out an EP last year that was over twice the length of this La Sera record. The positive and negative coming from such brevity is that whether you’re on a good song or a bad one, you know it’ll be over quickly. Such a fun little jaunt is something you don’t have to take too seriously and it lends itself to a healthy repeat value. If you’re going to keep putting out music as short as this though, the goal should be “all killer, no filler”.
Happy Valentine’s Day! Okay, so that doesn’t so much apply to me, in the sense that I’m single and have no reason to be excited about the “most romantic day of the year”. I’m not about to get all bitter on people today though, because I’m tired of bitching about this day every year. Once I actually have cause to celebrate with gusto, that’ll be one exceptionally happy Valentine’s day. As a consolation prize for me and you and everyone we know, the glorious wunderkinds known as Radiohead have graced us with the announcement of a new album, “The King of Limbs”. You’ll be able to get a digital copy of the album starting this Saturday, and if you order a physical version in the special “newspaper” packaging, that will be shipped to you in May. Get all the details and preorder now at TheKingofLimbs.com. Let’s talk about songs I love on today’s special V-Day edition of Pick Your Poison. I openly heart tracks from Damon and Naomi, J. Mascis, Jonquil, Panda Bear and Shipbuilding Co. I hope your day is full of love, whether you have someone to share it with or not.
When you name your band Esben and the Witch, bright and sunny pop music would appear to be the antithesis of the message you’re trying to communicate. Nobody in the band is named Esben, and as far as seemingly factual biographies go, nobody in the band practices witchcraft either. Instead, they took their name after the title of a Danish fairy tale, and unlike the cleaned up Disney versions of stuff, the tale of “Esben and the Witch” doesn’t have a happy ending. Watch the band’s video for “Marching Song”, and you’ll notice that one doesn’t exactly end on a positive note either (band members get increasingly bloody and beaten as things progress). Naming their debut full length “Violet Cries”, which is impressive and surprisingly original in and of itself, is yet another grand indicator of what you’ll be getting yourself into long before you even hear a single note of music. That the band largely succeeds at creating this gothic mood of darkness and dread is a strong testament to their talent and makes for an interesting auditory journey.
“Violet Cries”‘s first track “Argyria” stands as a pretty great introduction to Esben and the Witch on the whole. It creeps along slowly at first, all atmosphere and carefully picked electric guitar, then builds louder and louder with fuzz, distortion, heavy drumming and singer Rachel Davies breaking out her finest miserable wail. The louder things get, the more propulsive and menacing it is. In efforts to both show a high degree of restraint as well as sustain the song for nearly 6 minutes, things do calm down again so Davies can deliver some verses and trade all of that bloodlust for mere dread. And so it goes for the album’s duration, alternating between all the darkest of the dark textures underneath the rainbow, the guitars consistently buzzing like a man standing behind you with a chainsaw, the drums pounding with sledgehammer-like force, and all the while Davies writhes and moans like a woman possessed. Really it’s Davies’ strong and immense vocal range that gives Esben and the Witch most of their power. She’s able to go from porcelain doll to tortured soul at almost the drop of a hat, and it adds spice to moody pieces like “Marching Song” and “Warpath”.
Unfortunately, a sustained mood and a great voice only get you so far. Proper hooks are by no means essential for an album such as “Violet Cries”, but at the very least you’d like for the majority of songs to be distinctive and somewhat memorable. As it stands, about half the record achieves that, while the other half just sort of blends together with the same ominous atmosphere. Cohesiveness is key for a band such as Esben and the Witch, but when taken too far or on the fumes of an idea that’s not 100% fully developed, problems can arise as they do here. Ultimately it results in an album that’s smart and exciting and not so much innovative but done quite well, which is why Esben and the Witch have been earning a fair amount of buzz so far in 2011. That, and a few of their early tracks showed real promise. Most of those tracks once again make an appearance on “Violet Cries”, and they’re the ones that still stand the test of time as being among the band’s strongest. Hopefully this debut record acts more as a learning experience for the band, pointing them in a direction that will yield better, more revelatory results. For now though, we’re left with a solid soundtrack to a horror film, but one that occasionally has gaps where not much happens and the lead characters seem to forget there’s a killer on the loose. Perhaps the body count will be higher next time.
I’m always in a good mood on Fridays, and I hope you are too. Great stuff in today’s Pick Your Poison too. Notable tracks come from Dirty Beaches, Forbidden Friends (aka Hutch Harris of The Thermals), Ghost Animal, Le Butcherettes, Liam Singer, More Amor and The Raveonettes. The XXXChange remix of that Win Win song featuring Hot Chip’s Alexis Taylor is totally worth your time too. Have a great weekend!
It may be just about mid-February, but that doesn’t mean going out and having fun is out of the picture if you live in a cold and icy tundra about now. You know what? Even if you’re stuck indoors, there’s nothing a hot pizza and a movie can’t cure. Either that, or an edition of Pick Your Poison. Today’s big Thursday features tracks from Jookabox, Left Lane Cruiser, Range Rover, Simian Mobile Disco and Wolf Ram Heart. And hey, there’s a Ramones cover you can stream in the Soundcloud section too.
First and foremost, Australian band Cut Copy are all about the dance floor. The numerous labels affixed to their sound, be it dance rock, dance pop, synth pop, electronica, etc., don’t matter so much as knowing that if you put on a Cut Copy record, there’s little chance you’ll be able to avoid moving at least one part of your body to the beat. But in addition to those intense grooves, they’re also extremely adept at crafting hooks that stick with you long after the music has stopped. Their last album, 2008’s “In Ghost Colours”, was plentiful in all those ways, and tracks like “Lights and Music” and “Hearts On Fire” were more than just great cuts to play in the club – they were anthems worth playing in some huge spaces. That record also had a very “night out” feel to it, perfect to play when the neon lights were aglow and you’re cruising the city in a flashy suit or sparkly dress. The band is back at it again this week with their third full length “Zonoscope”, and it’s a lighter, brighter affair that scales back the massive choruses just a little in an effort to produce something a little more intelligent and cohesive than what they’ve done before.
“Zonoscope” opens with the uplifting “Need You Now”, a 6+ minute track that starts with a relatively basic beat and builds to an explosion of light and energy that’s just plain thrilling. There’s a distinct 80s pop vibe to “Take Me Over”, and it’s no wonder considering that much of the melody is just a dressed up dance version of Fleetwood Mac’s “Everywhere” with new lyrics. Cut Copy make it their own, though it does have what feels like a Blondie vibe too (think “Heart of Glass”). And in what becomes a running theme through the course of the record, “Take Me Over” transitions flawlessly into first single “Where I’m Going” without looking back. Thanks largely to the backing vocals and a little bit of a psychedelic edge, “Where I’m Going” comes across like a beat-heavy Beach Boys classic. The track has such a sunny disposition to it, with the energetic shouts of “Yeah!” during the insanely catchy chorus, that you’ll fall in love with it almost immediately. Altogether it makes for one of the best songs of a young 2011, and at this point in time it’s difficult to think of how much else could surpass its brilliance.
The way the keyboards and splashes of cowbell are used on “Pharaohs and Pyramids”, along with the eventual wind-up and breakdown in the final 1:45 of the song, there’s something about the track that transports you to a classic club setting. It feels like something a band like Delorean would put out, though three things actually push this song to an entirely higher level. First is the beginning of the track, which holds a Talking Heads-ish stature before the chorus strikes the first time. Second is the end of the track, which courtesy of some carefully placed bass guitar brings to mind New Order in the best possible ways. And thirdly, Dan Whitford’s vocals convey just the right emotions compared to the tempo and overall arrangement. If a record like this could actually get away with going a bit sentimental, this is the closest Cut Copy get and it works beautifully. Not just because of the title, “Blink and You’ll Miss A Revolution” owes some contemporary debts to LCD Soundsystem and !!!, as both bands have similar markers that are on display in the track. The bits of xylophone and violin are nice Cut Copy touches though, bringing just a little extra wink and a smile to the party.
Guitars begin to factor in much more heavily on the second half of the album. “This Is All We’ve Got” brings in some almost shoegaze-inspired hazy electrics amidst the twinkling electronics for what ultimately becomes a very lovely ballad. That leads to a silky smooth transition into “Alisa”, which is by far the most guitar-centric song on the entire record. At its core the song is reminiscent of Echo and the Bunnymen mixed with David Bowie and My Bloody Valentine. It’s still very pop-driven and danceable, but darker and again with the shoegaze edge. Acoustic guitars show up for a bit on the ballad “Hanging Onto Every Heartbeat”, blending pretty effortlessly with the spacier electro bits and synths. For some reason the band Yes comes to mind whenever I hear that song, and the comparison may very well be justified in this case. “Zonoscope” ends on a pretty wild note, with the 15+ minute “Sun God”. The track is essentially a showcase for everything they’ve done on the album up until that point, moving from a slightly uptempo pop song into a blissed out instrumental. The good news is that there’s very few dead spots across that 15 minute runtime. The bad news is that there’s very little justification for why the song exists in the first place as it primarily feels like an extended club remix of a normal Cut Copy song. Given what you’ve been listening to for the previous 45 minutes, such a thing can’t be considered bad, just a little underwhelming considering what came before it.
This is not the best time of year to be releasing a dance album, but that’s probably only relevant if you live in a place where the weather gets cold and snowy in February. Of course it’s always hot inside dance clubs no matter where you are, with crowds of sweaty bodies rubbing up against one another. “Zonoscope” is less of a club record than Cut Copy’s last one, but that doesn’t make it any less good. The more tempered approach taken by the band this time puts better overall composition on display, which in turn also does well in elevating moods. If you’re suffering from seasonal affective disorder and a daily dose of sunshine just isn’t doing the job, this album is like the audio version of that. Even once the weather improves and you’re outside in some blistering heat, you’ll still feel motivated to dance if you turn this record on. What Cut Copy lacks in the emotional connection that LCD Soundsystem does so well, they more than make up for with dynamic pop hooks and flawless transitions that work so well portions of the album feel like one long slice of beat-infused bliss. If you can appreciate such things, “Zonoscope” will likely be one of your favorite albums of 2011. So far, it’s most definitely one of mine.
Here’s your mid-week edition of Pick Your Poison, as always, grown from the freshest of mp3s. Today’s highlights include songs from The Caribbean, Dark Dark Dark, Generationals, and Mazes. Additionally, there’s a Cut Copy remix that’s pretty dope too.
Stay warm, Chicago. And anyplace else that’s stuck in the severe deep freeze hitting parts of the country right now. Hopefully some Pick Your Poison will make staying warm that much easier. Today’s choice cuts come from Chloe Makes Music (in a track featuring The Morning Benders’ Chris Chu), John Brodeur covering Phantogram, Secret Cities, and Woodsman. In the Soundcloud section there’s also a track from the forthcoming PJ Harvey album, definitely worth your time to stream in anticipation of that record.
If you pay close attention to the hype cycles around the music world, there’s a great chance you’ve heard of James Blake. The 23-year-old British artist/producer began to make a name for himself last year when he released three EPs of music that’s often been described as “dubstep”. The word is in quotes there because the definition of dubstep varies from person to person and in the end is probably not the best word to use when talking about James Blake’s sound anyways. What he did on those EPs was to craft a subtle electro-based dance landscape from synths and vocoders and a host of other very modern computer-related bits, and then typically added vocal samples from a number of old school R&B artists ranging from Aaliyah to R. Kelly. Oftentimes those vocals were so mangled or chopped up that you couldn’t tell who the original artist was anyways. It was fascinating stuff, and original enough to get him not only noticed but the subject of a number of “2011 Artists to Watch” lists. The assertion was only supported further by Blake’s cover of Feist’s “Limit to Your Love” that came out late last year as an advance single from his self-titled debut record. Oddly enough, his version of the song, which paired very sparse piano and his own voice, was pretty different from his prior EP work. It also turned out that Blake’s voice, which had been used very sparingly on the EPs, had a certain fragility and emotion locked within it, drawing easy comparisons to Justin Vernon of Bon Iver and Antony Hegarty.
For his debut full-length, James Blake foregoes any vocal samples from other artists, along with some of the more danceable moments of his earlier EPs. Instead he’s made what amounts to a quiet exercise in minimal, somber electronica paired with some serious soul/R&B influence. He sings on most every track, though you can’t always call what he does singing considering how distorted or chopped up it gets. That’s part of what makes this album unique – it’s the way he’s able to blend some of the most classic elements in music with some of the most advanced technology available today. A great reference point for the sound would be to say that it’s like if Burial, How to Dress Well and Bon Iver had a baby. Opening track “Unluck” plods along with some synths and the slow click of a metronome while there’s some skittering electronic percussion that sounds a lot like a spray paint can being shook up and periodically applied to a brick wall. Blake’s soulful vocals are heavily run over with Autotune, to the point where it’s just a little tough to understand what he’s saying. But as things move along the synths build and then fade and Blake’s voice begins to build upon itself until there are multiple Autotuned versions singing either in unison or working a harmony angle that’s halting, weird, haunting and beautiful. Similar to how Kanye West repurposed Bon Iver’s “Woods” for the track “Lost in the World”, “Unluck” takes that same concept in the opposite direction, instead of making a club banging rap track it remains a somber meditation with dragging electro-beats and synths instead. “I don’t know about my dreams/I don’t know about my dreamin’ anymore/All that I know is I’m fallin’, fallin’, fallin’, fallin'” are the lines repeated over and over again for the duration of “The Wilhelm Scream” (along with “love” replacing all the “dreams”). It’s an aching and clear vocal from Blake, spread atop some quiet synths and laid back beats. The more times Blake runs through those lines though, the louder the noise behind him becomes, until eventually the synths and the beats overtake his vocal, leaving him just an echo in the distance, before dropping out quickly back to their original quiet state. Despite the lack of variation in the lyrics, Blake’s repetition goes a long way towards forcing the song to be memorable, and there’s enough going on in the background to prevent it from becoming an annoyance. In that sense there’s a little bit of genius in the song.
On “I Never Learnt to Share”, there’s even fewer lyrics to go on, as the lines, “My brother and my sister don’t speak to me/but I don’t blame them” are again repeated ad nauseum. Blake’s vocal is the only thing you hear the first three times he runs through the lyrics, but each time adds another overdubbed harmony to increase the complexity and beauty of it. Once that’s clear, the synths and a beat come in low at first before finally building to a somewhat loud and vibrant lyricless final minute that’s just as interesting as the 4 minutes of development that preceeded it. The Autotune is once again very liberally applied to “Lindisfarne I”, a track that is 99% vocals, save for about 4 or 5 single keyboard notes that brush across the sonic palette in the last 45 seconds of the 2.5+ minute duration. The point of the song is less about the lyrics, which are again indecipherable, or even the strength of the singing really. These things are more of a means to an end, the ultimate goal being to explore the pregnant pauses between the words. At some moments Blake finishes a line and then purposely waits just long enough in silence to make it uncomfortable before dishing out the next one. If it sounds like some pretentious bullshit chances are it is, but the restraint and calculation of it is pretty damn impressive. The sequel “Lindisfarne II” is still Autotuned, but in a way where you can understand more lyrics, and with some backing beats and a quietly strummed (but distorted in the background) acoustic guitar. Blake’s cover of Feist’s “Limit to Your Love” is the centerpiece of the record and the most straightforward thing you’ll hear on it as well. His clear vocals are strikingly great and dramatic, his cadence exactly the same as Feist’s on her original. The lush, symphonic elements of the original are stripped back to just piano and voice, though with a couple small electro-noise interludes between the lines. It’s tough to outdo Feist on her own song, but Blake’s very sensitive and quiet approach to the track brings a special quality to it you won’t find anywhere else.
The second half of the record features a number of odd choices that challenge as much as they confound. The very brief “Give Me My Month” is yet another piano and voice track that matches up very well next to “Limit to My Love”, and it’s one of the few moments of respite before things go off the deep end. “To Care (Like You)” is a glitchy electro-synth track that sees Blake manipulating his voice to sound somewhere between a woman and a child for about half of it, essentially creating one odd duet between his regular voice and the severely tweaked one. They switch off what might be considered verses in a very strange but lyrically strong love song. Remember when everyone carried around Discman portable CD players instead of iPods? The biggest flaw with the portable CD player was always when you were doing something active with it or accidentally dropped it in the middle of a song and it’d skip. That was sometimes even the case if your CD was scratched up enough. The track you were listening to would skip around, searching for the next clean spot to keep playing at. The experience would often give a song a disjointed feel, and courtesy of the songs “Why Don’t You Call Me” and “I Mind”, James Blake exploits this issue to no end. “Why Don’t You Call Me” begins as a simple piano and vocal song before getting chopped about. With a simple auditory click you’ll find yourself in the middle of a lyric or chord already struck and being held, and it’d be cause to worry if it wasn’t the same on every format you can listen to the album on. While “I Mind” is very similar, it uses the various chops in audio to create an interesting sort of lyricless groove that works a tiny bit better than you might imagine. It’s one of the few genuine moments on the album that feels like Blake’s 2010 EP stuff, though he’s sampling/cutting his own voice rather than anyone else’s. To close things out, “Measurements” has a very gospel-like feel to it, with some soft and sparse synths assisting a gigantic choir of all James Blakes. He must have overdubbed his voice about 10-15 times to achieve the effect, with everything from baritones to sopranos mixed in and even a touch of Autotune. And as the track drifts off into the night, the synths make their quiet exit, leaving you with just Blake and the many versions of himself. It’s a pretty gorgeous way to end the album and provides a very accurate auditory representation of the hazy photo of Blake that is the album cover. Even when the whole thing is finished you’re still left wondering just what version of James Blake is the real one.
There’s so much that can be said about James Blake, and much of it will either confuse you or just plain give you the wrong impression. What’s written here is probably no different, as this self-titled album is a challenge and a half to describe accurately. It’s a big part of what makes Blake such a compelling artist though, because he defies easy labels or cliches. There’s not much of any song structure or set format across the entire record, even if he does use a lot of the same tools over and over again. Between Autotune and lower register, subdued synths and various slow beats, you’d think a modicum of stability would be established at some point. Just the differences between his EPs and this full length are striking, let alone from track to track. Yet it’s those same elements, purposed and repurposed on the album that provide it with a solid base from which to work. The use of technology to update classic sounds as well, plays a huge part in what makes Blake so original. This Autotuned, electro version of old school soul and R&B can be a bit off-putting and bothersome, especially to long-time devotees of those genres, but the subversion is remarkably refreshing if that’s something you’re looking for. Similarly, this may be the very first album that’s able to use the highly robotic and emotionally stunted Autotune and give it real warmth and feeling. Partial credit goes to Blake’s dramatic singing voice, but the other half is with how he arranges it, either with overdubs and harmonies or with backing melodies that provide ample assistance in that task. Putting all of these varying factors together makes James Blake’s debut album one of the best and most interesting things released so far this year. Given how odd it is, a wide range of reactions is to be expected, but if you’ve got a great degree of appreciation for slow, quiet and innovative music, Blake might be one of your new favorites. Now then – where does he go from here?
Chicago is about headed into the deep freeze this week, with temperatures dropping below zero overnight and single digits during the day. That’s not even including the wind chill factor, making it pretty dangerous to spend any real time outside. It’s one of the big reasons why I try and avoid going to live shows during these winter months, even though they’re not outside. It’s mostly a park and walk several blocks issue, along with a whole “no coat check” thing many venues have that seems to keep me away. Exceptions will be made though, like when The Dismemberment Plan comes to town in a couple weeks. Okay, let’s talk Pick Your Poison for this Monday. Highlights include tracks from The Asteroid #4, Cold Cave, Digits, The District Attorneys, and Lawrence & Leigh.
It really doesn’t seem like it, but …And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead have been around for 16 years. In that time there’s been 7 albums and a few EPs, and the progression of the band is pretty well charted by all those releases. They began as punk rock upstarts with a flair for the dramatic and hints of prog-rock influences. By the time their third album “Source Tags and Codes” came around in 2002, the band had developed their sound to the point where many of the tracks blended into one another or were connected by brief orchestral interludes, truly taking on a life of their own. That was one hell of an epic record, and one of the chosen few to receive a coveted 10.0 rating on Pitchfork and deservedly so. It was that sort of brilliance combined with the band’s intense live shows that often ended with everything on stage getting completely obliterated (instruments included) that really earned the band their name and reputation. Everything they’ve done since then has fallen somewhere between searching for a new way to advance the band’s sound to trying to reclaim the magic of that singular perfect record. The kind of pressure such lofty expectations must have put on the band had to be monumental, and Trail of Dead essentially retreated from the spotlight. Intra-band fights ensued, as did critical slammings and tension with their label. In 2007 they left Interscope Records after citing “lack of support” and instead decided to release new music under their own label, Richter Scale. It’s been just about 2 years since their last album, “The Century of Self”, which saw them slowly crawling their way back towards the top with their new found freedom. They were more creatively electrified than they had been in years, and it was quite evident upon listening to that still epic of markedly adventuresome record. Now in a much healthier place, Trail of Dead return with “Tao of the Dead”, their wildest and most ambitious project to date.
At a time in which the single is more popular than ever and the existence of the full length album is consistently being threatened, …And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead have crafted a record that practically demands to be heard from start to finish. “Tao of the Dead” is actually divided into two separate parts. Part I spans 11 tracks and 36 minutes and was recorded entirely in the key of D. Part II is titled “Strange News From Another Planet” and is five separate movements contained within a single 16.5 minute track, recorded entirely in the key of F. Yeah, it’s some high concept shit, though at least they’re not aiming to tell some long-winded story via the lyrics. No, the intention is just to compose two long-form pieces of music that perfectly blend together compositionally. Conrad Keeley cited records like Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon” and Rush’s “Hemispheres” as direct influences when coming up with “Tao of the Dead”. Doubtless that he’s hoping this new album will be as warmly received and as legendary as those. On that note, there’s some good news and some bad news.
The bad news first, there’s no way “Tao of the Dead” will go down as a landmark album. While that primarily has to do with the challenges the album format presents in this day and age, even if this were the 60s, 70s or 80s where such attempts would be more admirable, one gets the feeling that this record wouldn’t quite succeed at the desired level. What’s really a shame is that it actually comes somewhat close to achieving such a lofty goal. The gigantic, epic-as-fuck landscape is already laid out for them on a platter as it’s a sound they’ve been trying out the last several years with mixed results, with the problems mostly coming from the band trying to take themselves far too seriously. Trail of Dead have always sounded best in a very loose and playful atmosphere, buttressed by the occasional Jason Reece-led punk rock quickie. Reece does pop up on vocals a time or two, though his “Days of Being Wild” tendencies are shaved down in service of the overall concept, which in and of itself is just a touch rigid and demanding. The band attempts to counteract such difficulties via the album’s lyrics and artwork, which have a very fantastical and science fiction-y quality to them. The album cover looks like a damn “Star Wars” or “Indiana Jones” poster, and if you buy a deluxe version there’s a graphic novel that comes with it. All of it is written and designed by proverbial band leader Conrad Keeley, who depending on the record can be as much of an asset to the group as he is a hindrance. His issues are primarily vocal, in that the band’s occasional over-reliance on his often sub-par singing has sometimes made an album worse than it should be. That’s less of an issue on “Tao of the Dead” thanks to an increased sense of atmosphere and more instrumental brute force than normal.
The good news about this record is that it does a whole lot more right than it does wrong. The band is smart to stick with pretty much the same sound they’ve been dishing out for years now, but repurposed just a touch. There’s less in the way of outright balladry and more intense/loud moments flanked by some of the band’s sharpest drum work in recent memory. And while the concept seems to take precedence over anything else this time around, the first part of the album also has its fair share of workable singles as well. “Pure Radio Cosplay” is fun and exciting and memorable to the point where it earns the 3 minute “Reprise” version several tracks later. First single “Summer of All Dead Souls” is solid, but interestingly enough not the most obvious or easiest choice in terms of marketing the record. Atmosphere plays a huge role in “Cover the Days Like A Tidal Wave”, where the melody builds and builds until it overwhelms and buries you in pure noise. “The Wasteland” is an exercise in restraint, bringing in some lighter acoustic guitars amidst the jabs of louder electric guitar moments, which is taken over by the brief “The Spiral Jetty”, complete with somber piano, electro ambiance and a defunct guitar solo. Though a song like “Weight of the Sun (Or, the Post-Modern Prometheus)” seems deserving of single status (it’s certain to be a crowd-pleaser at live shows), there’s something just a touch off-putting about the loudly shouted chorus of “You! Will! Pay!” in general because of how simplistic it is. Jason Reece finally reports for vocal duty on “Ebb Away”, a song that’s so triumphant that it feels like it should close out the entire movement. Instead, “The Fairlight Pendant” takes care of that, a nearly 6 minute instrumental that goes huge before going home. The keyboards go nuts, the pace accelerates to breakneck speed, and there’s some serious psychedelic/krautrock debts that are paid in full. Rather than actually feeling like a proper closer to Part I of the record, it instead does some solid work bridging the two divided halves of the album.
The 16 minute opus “Strange News From Another Planet” is the left turn where “Tao of the Dead” sails over the edge of sanity. At over 16 minutes, it’s the longest single track Trail of Dead have ever done, even if it is technically five separate songs smashed into one. Of course thanks to creative blending and the idea that the entire piece be heard as a single symphonic movement, it’s a small challenge to identify exactly where each of those five songs ends and the new ones begin. Much of it is instrumental, which actually works to the band’s benefit as they space out while going for broke. There are several time signature changes, a section of spoken word/found sound audio clips (a reference back to their early days), intense shredding guitar solos, and a brief Jason Reece vocal appearance, all amidst an ebb and flow that continually builds up, explodes and breaks down with enough force to keep things interesting for the duration. To some, it will be a grand masterpiece, a thesis statement for the entire record and a testament to the brilliance this band genuinely possesses but has failed to deliver upon since that one perfect album nine years ago. Others will view it as an agenda piece, with Trail of Dead trying so hard to create this massive epic and prove their worth that they’ll throw this incredibly long track at you with the hopes that you’ll either be impressed by the sheer ambition of it or too worn down by the end to actually come up with a valid criticism of it. Personally I fall somewhere in between those two extremes. Trail of Dead take the risk and actually do a solid job of making it work, but it does scream pompous and overblown just a bit and the extreme running time for a single track gets both taxing after awhile and a challenge to listen to unless you’re in the middle of a long car ride or have nothing better to do. At least in the first part of the album, though intended as a singular piece divided into 11 separate tracks, you can stop or pause between them should you need to.
For long-time Trail of Dead fans that have sat around moping since “Source Tags and COdes” changed their life, there’s good news for you courtesy of “Tao of the Dead”. The band you once knew and loved dearly is now closer than ever towards reclaiming the crown once placed upon their heads those many years ago. This new album really was a gambit from its creation, and the guys could just as easily have fallen on their faces as they could have emerged triumphant. Thankfully, they earn their keep for the most part by crafting a smart and well-adjusted record that’s reins in a lot of their past mistakes in favor of interesting new doorways to explore. There are a couple issues, from the intense sincerity of the material to a weak track or two, but those are more minor than most everything else. Conrad Keeley’s not-always-great vocals are used better this time as well, both by not always leaving them front-and-center in the mix or just breaking out more instrumental passages than ever before. There are still moments when he’s reaching beyond his capacity however, and that strain doesn’t help things. Still, the supporting cast in the band, now slimmed down to a mere four-piece, excels at nearly every turn and seems to prove the old adage that too many cooks in the kitchen can spoil the broth (the argument here being that the extra members were weighing them down). “Tao of the Dead” may not go down in music history as one of the finest single-piece concept records, nor will it even be considered Trail of Dead’s most important work, but what it does do is provide legitimate hope. Hope for a band that lost the plot years ago and many were beginning to believe wouldn’t ever find it again. Everybody loves a good comeback story, and thanks to this album, …And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead are now poised to do just that. Now if only they’d lighten up a little bit and start smashing things on stage again.
It’s Friday. Time for the weekend. ‘Nuff said. Let’s have some fun. Good Pick Your Poison again today. Choice cuts from Dangerous Ponies, Ice Black Birds, L’Altra, Micachu and the Shapes, and The Morning Birds.
Happy Chinese New Year to all my readers in the Far East. Does anybody in China read this site? I’m halfway assuming it’s banned over there, or there’s just a whole lot of language barriers. Of course maybe all that “spam” I’m getting in my inbox and on occasional site comments are actually from Chinese readers. Apologies if that’s the case. But we’re now in the Year of the Rabbit, so best of luck to all those on the same animal cycle. Highlights of today’s Pick Your Poison include tracks from Heidi Spencer & the Rare Birds, Six Organs of Admittance and Yellowbirds. Yeasayer remixing a new Cold War Kids song should be on your radar too, along with DISCOFORGIA’s remix of a Sleigh Bells track. The only Soundcloud track for you today is a new one from The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, and that’s simply delightful and a must hear.
It’s been about a year and a half since The Babies first emerged onto the music scene, and the band was birthed thanks to Woods’ Kevin Morby and Vivian Girls’ Cassie Ramone. They were sharing an apartment in New York for a period of time, and wrote a handful of songs together. Bringing in drummer Justin Sullivan from the band Bossy, they wound up recording a number of songs and playing some live shows, but had no established plan as to how or when they were going to release them. The first taste of Babies’ recorded material came via their Myspace page back in August of 2009 when the songs “All Things Come to Pass” and “Meet Me in the City” appeared there. Other than that though and the occasional show, The Babies have been relatively quiet. Thanks to Shrimper though, their self-titled debut album will finally emerge from the womb next Tuesday.
The Babies’ sound really carries a lot of the DNA from the two parent bands of Woods and Vivian Girls. Woods has a very lo-fi/no-fi classic and stoner rock-informed sound, and Vivian Girls do lo-fi jangly garage pop. Put them together and it amounts to lo-fi stoner garage pop, which is probably the easiest way to define it. Morby is the chief songwriter for the band, though he shares vocal duties pretty equally with Ramone either in the form of duets, backing vocals/harmonies or switching off tackling full songs solo. The whole thing has a very relaxed and informal vibe to it as well, which helps to not take the songs too seriously when listening to them. Opening track and unofficial single “Run Me Over” is a very bouncy and catchy rock song, pretty perfectly melding some ramshackle grunge-ish guitars with a dose of psychedelic haze. “Sunset” feels a lot like a lost Pixies track, and while Morby is no Frank Black, Ramone does a fantastic Kim Deal with a touch of Kim Gordon. “All Things Come to Pass” is pretty much a Ramone solo cut, but it bears a lot of Woods’ sound in a very nice campfire singalong style sort of way. Then “Meet Me in the City” does a nice job of pulling a Vivian Girls via Wavves sort of thing, with Morby at the lead vocal helm and Ramone providing some nice backup harmonies. “Personality” has a lot of what the title suggests, a raucous punk track that rages for under 90 seconds before flaming out like it should. Everything sounds like it was recorded in a bedroom somewhere, and it bears the marks of a band like The Misfits or The Dead Kennedys, though not quite with the sense of outrage those bands tended to promote. Funny then that a song like “Breakin’ the Law”, which you’d expect to be pretty anti-establishment, is one of the album’s slower cuts that tells the story of a Bonnie and Clyde-like couple that have “retired” from committing crimes. “Wild I” is perhaps the most emotionally raw and beautiful song that Cassie Ramone has ever done with any of her projects. It’s a dark and rather depressing track with layers of electric guitars that speak perfectly to the tone. “I’m so tired of waking up/to the pain that’s inside my head/it’s a pain that you never had”, she sings at one point, channeling a mixture of Liz Phair, PJ Harvey and a half dozen other scorned women going through a bad breakup. The track that follows it is “Wild II”, with Morby taking on the male perspective in this failed relationship. He chooses to take the higher road and a little brighter view of things, essentially saying that he tried to make things work, and though they didn’t in the end, he’s confident that there’s somebody else out there for him. It lacks the conviction and layered melody of its predecessor but still does a decent job getting the point across.
In Woods, Kevin Morby plays bass and doesn’t really do any writing or singing. Courtesy of The Babies, he now has the opportunity to do both. He’s not exactly amazing at either, but he fares just decently enough. When compared to his side project bandmate Cassie Ramone, he’s clearly the weaker link. For a band like The Babies though, with the slacker melodies and lo-fi aesthetic, such things like vocal ability and brilliant wordplay are low on the priority list. Instead, catchy melodies and fun vibes are king, which thankfully The Babies seem to have in spades. This self-titled debut is a nice, low pressure respite from the higher expectations of both members’ day jobs. Treat it with kid gloves and you’ll find that it’s pretty easy to fall in love with something that’s largely still in its infant state. Okay, no more baby puns.
