Category: album review Page 14 of 22

Album Review: Middle Brother – Middle Brother [Partisan]

On 03/01/2011

Here are the fine details that you’re going to read in most every discussion of the band Middle Brother. The trio of guys in this band are the respective frontmen for three separate and more popular bands; John McCauley is from Deer Tick, Taylor Goldsmith is from Dawes and Matthew Vasquez is from The Delta Spirit. They first got together in late 2009 after Deer Tick and Dawes toured together and had a lot of fun doing so. McCauley and Goldsmith would later get together in Nashville during some downtime with their respective bands and invited Vasquez to join them in the studio. What they really liked about the dynamic was that all of them pushed each other to become better musicians. Originally they called themselves MG&V, the simple combination of first letters from their last names, and played a secret, unannounced show under that moniker during SXSW last spring. It was also around that time period they began to record a debut album, which is what is now showing up in stores this week as the self-titled “Middle Brother”. Given that it’s been about a year and a name change since this “supergroup” first clued everyone in to their existence, what’s been the hold up? Scheduling problems apparently. The guys wanted to have proper time to go out and tour to promote the record but were all busy with their main bands and couldn’t quite commit to it last year. This year though is a different story, and the record is arriving right at the cusp of a cross-country tour that, naturally, takes them right back to SXSW where they first debuted in 2010.

If you’re familiar with all three of the “main bands” Middle Brother pulls its members from, then you’ll know almost exactly what to expect from this trio. The group dynamic is pretty even-handed, in that McCauley, Goldsmith and Vasquez all take turns playing various instruments and handling lead vocals. And even when one guy is on lead vocals, it’s reasonable to expect that the other two aren’t far behind with some strong backing harmonies. The sound is very Americana and rootsy, a healthy alt-country twang amidst a couple of more pop-driven songs. On paper it’s easy to see why Middle Brother should work given the talents behind it, but what truly impresses is just how well it really does. For their very first album after not a long time working together, the album sounds like they’ve been doing it for years, not weeks. Part of that surely comes from being musicians and having their own separate full time bands, but whenever you’re working with new people there are always some hurdles to go over in trying to play to everyone’s best strengths. This is extremely strong from the get-go though, and that lack of a learning curve only immerses you in the listening experience that much more.

“Daydreaming” starts the album with some quiet and folksy acoustic guitar that’s nothing short of lovely, save for the lyrics that begin on the lines, “Early in the mornin’, too hungover to go back to sleep/every sound is amplified, heavy lights so dizzying”. The song is one of many on the record that mentions being hungover, but really once you get past that first half of the verse it becomes about pining after the woman you love, about wishing she could be right next to you in the times she’s not there. The well-placed harmonies only add to the track’s inherent beauty, and one gets the impression that if you listened to this song while staring out the window on a sunny spring day that there wouldn’t be a better soundtrack. Neil Young and Band of Horses meet on “Blue Eyes”, a mid-tempo alt-country song with a touch of player piano and lyrics about what some might consider to be the ideal woman. Sadness permeates “Thanks for Nothing”, an acoustic ballad directed at a heartbreaker, a woman that left a poor guy in ruins. “Now the only girls I meet all look for hearts that they can fix/but mine is more like a kid that has gone missing,” Goldsmith sings in a very defeated way. For every person that has had a partner you were in love with just crush that in the cruelest way possible, there is meaning to be pulled from this song. Things get genuinely fun on the song “Middle Brother” (on the album “Middle Brother” from the band Middle Brother…just to fully clarify), a strong country guitar groove that brings everything from handclaps to tambourines and piano. It’s a rollicking track that’s about being the “forgotten” middle child in a family and doing things like learning to fly an airplane to “make my mama proud” and “get my dad to notice me, even if I have to fly it into the ground”.

The centerpiece of the album is a cover of The Replacements’ “Portland”, which is nice in part because there aren’t nearly enough good Replacements covers out there (seriously). Middle Brother does a fairly standard rendition of the song, but the acoustic guitars shine just a little bit brighter in the mix to give it a very 2011 feel rather than the slightly muddier 1997 original. First single “Me Me Me” is a fast-paced and super fun, combining some serious piano pounding, furiously strummed acoustic guitars, and a raw vocal performance from McCauley. The harmonies are ripe and so is the hook, to the point where this is probably one of the best songs of 2011 thus far. If you want to be sold on this band, “Me Me Me” is where you’ll cash that check. Things take an interesting turn on “Someday”, which with its 60s girl group backing “oohs” and “aahs” and Vasquez’s throaty vocals sounds a lot like a throwback pop number rather than the Americana material that’s come before it. The song is great and worthy of being a future single, but it feels out of character compared to the rest of the record. Then again, if Middle Brother is about allowing the personal styles of all three band members to properly mesh in one singular album, that is a touch of Delta Spirit and makes sense from that viewpoint. Goldsmith delivers his most powerful and intense performance on the six minute “Blood and Guts”, slowly stirring himself into a rage as his relationship quickly disintegrates around him. “I just wanna get my fist through some glass/I just wanna get your arm in a cast/I just want you to know that I care,” he says just before his voice soars out of him with a force that truly does feel gutteral and blood curdling. There’s genuine emotion pouring out of this song and sad though it may be, without a doubt people will strongly identify with it. After the portrait of hard life touring that is “Mom and Dad”, “Million Dollar Bill” closes out the record in acoustic ballad style, with all three guys taking the lead on separate verses and holding up backing harmonies. It’s just a little bit lackluster of a way to end things, but beautiful nevertheless.

When talking about Middle Brother, there are a few bands you can look to for comparison. The Band, The Traveling Wilburys, Crosby Stills and Nash (sometimes Young), and their more modern-day counterparts Monsters of Folk are all apt names to be throwing around here. Funny also that each one of those is a supergroup of sorts with that Americana-type sound. So what Middle Brother is doing on their self-titled debut can’t particularly be called unique. What makes a project like this special are the talents involved and whether or not they’re put to full use. In this case, where not only is there relative equality between band members but also each has their own moment in the spotlight, things seem to have turned out exceptionally well. These guys really do push one another to be better in one aspect or another. There are many moments of brilliant lyrical content and/or vocals that reach exactly the right pitch to perfectly convey the points that are trying to be made. For a record about the overused subjects of women, drinking and life on the road, McCauley, Goldsmith and Vasquez prove there’s more that can still be said in a relatively original way. Is Middle Brother a better project than the three bands each of their respective members came from? Yes in some aspects, and no in others. It’s a highly worthwhile side project, really. Like all those other aforementioned “supergroups”, you can’t deny there’s magic when these three get together, but chances are they wouldn’t exist without their regular day jobs. So after some touring, McCauley will return to Deer Tick and Goldsmith to Dawes and Vasquez to Delta Spirit and such, and they’ll all put out potentially great new records that way. Then somewhere be it a year or five from now, they’ll get back to this collaborative project and hopefully the same chutzpah of this first record will continue on the second. In the meantime, be sure to see Middle Brother as they tour this spring. McCauley and Goldsmith are pulling double duty as Deer Tick and Dawes are playing full sets on the tour as well. Have a look at the dates below, and pick up the album – it’s a folk-driven delight.

Middle Brother – Me Me Me
Middle Brother – Middle Brother

Buy “Middle Brother” from Amazon

Tour Dates
March 2 – Washington, DC – 9:30 Club *
March 3 – Boston, MA – Paradise Rock Club *
March 4 – Providence, RI – Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel *
March 5 – Brooklyn, NY – Music Hall of Williamsburg *
March 6 – New York, NY – Bowery Ballroom *
March 9 – Philadelphia, PA – Theatre of Living Arts *
March 10 – Rochester, NY – Water Street Music Hall *
March 11 – Toronto, ON – Opera House (with Deer Tick only)
March 12 – Chicago, IL – Metro *
March 13 – Madison, WI – Majestic Theatre *
March 14 – Minneapolis, MN – First Avenue *
March 15 – Lawrence, KS – The Granada Theater *
March 17 – Dallas, TX – Club Dada *
March 18 – Austin, TX – Brooklyn Vegan, Partisan Records, and KF Records Present: A Free SXSW Day Party at Swan Dive / Barbarella (SXSW)
March 19 – Austin, TX – Auditorium Shores/Ground Control Touring Showcase (SXSW)
April 3 – San Francisco, CA – The Independent ^
April 4 – Santa Cruz, CA – Moe’s Alley ^
April 5 – Santa Barbara, CA – Soho %
April 6 – Costa Mesa, CA – Detroit Bar %
April 7 – Los Angeles, CA – The Echo %
April 8 – San Diego, CA – The Loft %

* = with Deer Tick and Dawes
^ = with Blake Mills
% = with Jonny Corndawg

Album Review: Mogwai – Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will [Sub Pop/Rock Action]

By Faronheit

On 02/28/2011

In album review, mp3, music

It’s still very early in 2011, but I’ll put down money right now that no band comes up with a better album title this year than “Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will”. That’s what Mogwai titled their seventh album, and when you’ve been making people’s ears bleed profusely the last 15 years with your excruciatingly loud rock music, that’s a title you earn. Yes, this band has been making post-rock music since the time that post-rock probably wasn’t even a term. They’re one of the originators of the genre, and it’s appropriate that they burst onto the scene with their best and most exciting record in the form of 1997’s “Young Team”. Mogwai are also the sort of band that profusely divides music lovers, some view their songs as noise for noise’s sake, while others studiously analyze each composition for the peaks and valleys and undulating beauty of it all. The thing about being around for so long and putting out so many albums though is that you can’t keep doing the same things over and over again. Like any good band, changing up your sound and trying new things is imperative to your survival. Mogwai’s first album was so raw and ferociously loud that it metaphorically scorched the Earth. Since then, they’ve gotten quieter and more studious, pushing for greater beauty in their tracks. The last couple records sounded more like a band on their last legs, tired and worn out and punching those chords in without too much emotion. Yet a song like “The Sun Smells Too Loud”, off 2008’s “The Hawk Is Howling” still broke into new territory by putting away a lot of the guitars in favor of keyboards, synths and a drum machine. It was the singularly arresting moment on an otherwise mediocre effort, but it left the door open to some ways they might be able to break their sound through to the next level.

Instead of taking that leap forwards to where they need to go, Mogwai instead chose to look to their past for “Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will”. They reconnected with “Young Team” producer Paul Savage, likely in the hopes that he would drag out the spark that he first saw in a very young group of guys from Glasgow. The good news is that Savage seems to have brought the band out of the funk they’d been in the last two records, because in listening to the new album you come away with the impression that they’re re-energized and enjoy making music again. As for the songs themselves, well, a bit of restored energy can only take you so far; creativity and innovation have to take you the rest of the way. Opening track “White Noise” marks perhaps the most lackluster start to a Mogwai album ever, but that doesn’t mean the song is necessarily bad. It’s graceful and lovely and embraces you with some soft piano while resisting some of the post-rock cliches of slowly building to a loud guitar peak. The restraint shown is admirable, even if it doesn’t get you fired up for the other songs to come. And as a continued sign of progression, “Mexican Grand Prix” is all synths, keyboards, bass and drum machines in what amounts to a dark electro-inspired cut. There’s a strong 80s influence that might bring to mind a band like Neu! or Kraftwerk with a more modern M83-like twist. It sounds almost nothing like the Mogwai we’re familiar with and that’s one of the big reasons why it’s one of the record’s strongest efforts. If only they’d do more of it. Fuzzed out electric guitars are the very first things that seduce you into “Rano Pano”, and they pretty much stay that way as other small bits and pieces come together to create a wall of sound that’s pretty much become a band standard by now. There is a moment though, with about 90 seconds left in the track that the volume level escalates from 2 to 10 in an instant that comes across as something invigorating and visceral like many of Mogwai’s earliest material. Unfortunately that’s just a few moments on an otherwise very autopiloted song.

The way that the guitars, synths and piano all interact on “Death Rays” turns it into a shimmering and soaring spectacle better than Mogwai has done in several years. It’s another one of those restrained moments where the band takes a subdued melody and makes it their own in the best sort of way. The buzzsaw electric guitar that cuts through the fray in the last couple minutes is also one of the best riffs they’ve cranked out in a short while. Things get back to “rocking out” mode again with “San Pedro”, yet another bit of normalcy for Mogwai, though with the added benefit of sounding just a touch more raw and energized than much of what was on their last album. Or it could just be that it sounds more white hot than usual because of the quieter, more beautiful moments it’s surrounded by. The grand piano and splashes of keyboard on “Letters to the Metro” give the track a very soulful base along with emotional resonance that is sad but cathartic. Mogwai likes to use distortion on their vocals when they have them on a track, and they break out the Autotune for “George Square Thatcher Death Party”. The guitars may be mixed pretty significantly into the song, but they’re the least important part of it next to that pitch-shifted singing and smartly used synths. The way that “How to Be A Werewolf” calmly moves from subdued synths to a really sharp rock song feels completely earned over its 6 minutes. The band doesn’t blind or deafen you with pure noise but instead relies on strong melody amidst the heavier guitars. The way they squirm and slide rather than simply attack head on shows that Mogwai has learned a thing or two in their somewhat lengthy careers. “Too Raging to Cheers” is one of the more lackluster efforts on the album, notable really only for the small dose of violin that shows up all too briefly for a few moments. But what would a Mogwai album be without an epic closer? “You’re Lionel Richie” is 8.5 minutes of what this band does best, which is lull you into a false sense of relaxed beauty before pulling the rug out from underneath you with a wall of heavy guitars. It’s a dirge that likely hopes you’ll recall similar death marches “Like Herod” or “Mogwai Fear Satan”, the only thing is this one’s not quite up to that level of brilliance. Even if it were, there’s the whole “done it all before” aspect that would lessen its overall impact anyways. Just because the song isn’t among Mogwai’s 5 best doesn’t mean it’s still not good though. There’s plenty to like about it, and in terms of a way to wrap up the record nothing else seems as fitting.

“Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will” may not be the greatest Mogwai record, but it is a very exciting one. The band seems more awake and aware of their history and are trying to move in a direction that both honors that and also progresses forwards. The increased use of piano and synths on many tracks breaks out some different sounds and tempos as the band holds back on a number of peaks and valleys they’d normally traverse with the quiet-loud-quiet dynamic of electric guitars. This is engaging material despite the subdued nature of it all, though some will argue that it’s just a bit boring. At the very least it’s better than what they’ve been doing, essentially stuck and running in place on their last couple efforts. There are a couple songs on this album that either don’t quite live up to their potential or slide backwards into the same tropes that have become old hat by now, but for the most part Mogwai is in a better place than they were two or three years ago. Hopefully these new, less heavy compositions don’t do much to change the intensity of their live shows, which is the best thing about the band. Apparently so is producer Paul Savage. We can’t quite roll out the “Welcome Back” banners for these guys just yet, but if they keep steady on the path they’ve started anew here, Mogwai could very well be rising from the ashes within a few years. Maybe there is a chance they’ll make that genre-defining album before they reach an expiration date.

Mogwai – Rano Pano
Mogwai – San Pedro

Buy “Hardcore Will Never Die, But You Will” from Amazon

Album Review: Toro Y Moi – Underneath the Pine [Carpark]

By Faronheit

On 02/25/2011

In album review, BNM, mp3, music

When we last left Toro Y Moi, aka Chaz Bundick, he was riding high on his 2010 debut record “Causers of This”. It was one of a multitude of entries last year underneath the much-hearalded banner of glo-fi/chillwave. In case you’ve been living underneath a rock for the last year or two, what has earned glo-fi/chillwave a strong reputation has been the smart way in which artists have taken electronica-based sounds and repurposed them with a more lo-fi edge. Crappy, home-recorded tracks aren’t exactly the genre’s defining qualities, but they’re certainly one of the ways you can recognize chillwave when you hear it. You need to have a better head on your shoulders than a lot of more mainstream, studio-recorded electronica artists as well. Toro Y Moi certainly falls into that category, as do notables such as Twin Shadow, Neon Indian, Washed Out, Small Black and Memory Tapes among others. While many of them have put out debut records in the last year or two, Toro Y Moi is first out of the gate with a sophmore album, and at a time when chillwave is naturally burning out of its hype cycle. Chaz Bundick seems to know this, which is probably why his new album “Underneath the Pine” makes some necessary sonic leaps forward to keep a fickle collection of music fans interested and in his corner.

Like the “demise” (i.e. decrease in popularity) of lo-fi a couple years back, the smartest and easiest route off the glo-fi/chillwave path is to clean it up and add more hooks. “Underneath the Pine” does pretty much exactly that, with Bundick putting something of an actual studio budget to use and throwing a bit of polish on what are now more energetic, pop-driven arrangements. That was pretty well evident from the first two tracks released in advance of the album, “New Beat” and “Still Sound”. Both are excellent dance floor singles on their own, exploring a number of old school influences that includes soul and funk to create a more fractured and innovative take on what might otherwise be considered traditional. Both these songs are also notably more concise and fun than much of what was on the “Causers of This” debut. The whole “chill” part of chillwave was to place a bit of emphasis on more laid back and relaxed song structures. Electronica for the calmer set, something that wasn’t concerned with hitting those big beats that send the clubs into overdrive. “Underneath the Pine” still isn’t that modern, club-banging huge electronica album, but is rather an intricate, smartly composed set of songs that just so happen to at the very least get your toe tapping.

As the singular entity behind Toro Y Moi, Bundick really shows off how creative and instrumentally dense he can be with the strong variety of instruments across each track. Given how he implements things like keyboards and looped vocal harmonies, there are sections that do seem sharply inspired by a Stereolab or Broadcast or even Teenage Fanclub given the right circumstances. It’s slightly off from widesceen appeal, but unique and engaging enough to satisfy those with more open minds and penchants for a number of classic tropes. Xylophones and harpsichords (both likely “artificially created”) permeate the main melody of “Go With You” to throw it just a touch off-kilter and keep you guessing as to where it will go next. The way the acoustic guitar blends almost effortlessly with the woozy synths in “Before I’m Done” is simply wonderful, before the trippy psychedelic breakdown comes in the last minute. The collision of traditional piano and synth on “How I Know” gives the upbeat cut more depth than what might otherwise be recognized a 60s-tinged dance number. Bongos are just a small part of what makes “Light Black” one of the record’s most exciting and odd adventures,circumventing a standard song structure for something more playful and “out there”. And the heavy-handed, messed up piano combining with the psych-pop tropes on “Good Hold” makes for an effective Brian Eno-esque underwater adventure that sails seamlessly into closer “”Elise”.

While there was at least one bonified indie hit on the first Toro Y Moi album “Causers of This” courtesy of the track “Blessa”, what that entire record primarily lacked was a real reason to stick with Chaz Bundick’s project. He had the zeitgeist of being a chillwave artist but less actual buzz than his peers. To be fair, there was an overflow of the genre and not everyone can get the coverage they want or deserve. So Bundick was smart to not only keep working over the last year by consistently contributing remixes of other artists’ work, but also handling a very club-riddled “history of electronica” sort of side project known as Les Sins. Then to come running out of the gate this year with “Underneath the Pine” provides more justification as to why he not only needs more of our attention, courtesy of some stronger-than-ever songs that move beyond the overhyped subgenre that plucked him from obscurity and into something that’s more instrumentally conscious and pop-ready. In other words, Toro Y Moi has moved up the ladder and you need to be paying close attention. Here’s a really fun and moderately experimental electronica record that has more in common with most bands today than the actual dance music scene. It’s about time somebody did this the right way, and the cliffhanger we’re all left with is how Bundick is going to change it up on us again next time.

Toro Y Moi – Still Sound

Toro Y Moi – New Beat

Buy “Underneath the Pine” from Amazon

Album Review: Tahiti 80 – The Past, The Present and The Possible [Human Sounds]

By Faronheit

On 02/24/2011

In album review, mp3, music

The term “French pop” can be a tricky thing. Really the reason why music is labeled as such is because it’s basically synth pop by an artist from France. There’s less an outright distinctive quality to French pop compared to a host of other musical genres, yet so many artists with diverse sounds get lumped into this arena because of where they’re from. The most popular French pop band these days has to be Phoenix, and as a result they are the unofficial standard bearers for the genre. We’re supposed to actively root for other French pop bands to sound like Phoenix or at the very least find some other way to equal their level of success.

Officially though, not every band, French pop or other, strives to sound like some other, more popular version of themselves. Some artists are happy just being on the fringe where they’re free to do their own thing and not be under pressure to live up to lofty expectations. Unlike Oasis, who seemed to want to become the new Beatles in the worst way, Animal Collective has never tried to out-Beach the Beach Boys. Would they love to be mentioned in the same breath, or regarded with the same praise and passion? Surely, but that’s clearly not their intent as they’ve crafted oddball soundscape after oddball soundscape. But in returning to the topic of French pop, the band Tahiti 80 isn’t straining to become the next Phoenix. First of all, they’ve been around longer than Phoenix, and secondly by this point they seem pretty content doing their own thing rather than having a couple singles strike huge and playing to sold out arenas. Would they mind if those things fell into their laps? Probably not, and with any stroke of luck, someday they will find grand success. They’re still working on it with their brand new album “The Past, the Present and the Possible”, which is yet another example of how delightful these guys might be, even if they don’t smash through the brick wall of popularity.

Tahiti 80’s real shot at the “Big Time” came in the form of their 2002 album “Wallpaper for the Soul”. At the time, their U.S. label was Chicago’s Minty Fresh, home to notables like Liz Phair, Veruca Salt, Ezra Furman and the Harpoons, and The Cardigans. While Minty Fresh’s profile isn’t exactly stellar these days, the label was doing a whole lot of good back when Tahiti 80 was signed to it. Not only that, but the band chose to go a little more experimental route for that second album, bringing in more atmospherics and genres than their relatively straightforward pop debut. Those changes actually brought the band more attention, turning their music from what was ultimately “wallpaper” into something deeper and more intimate – you could say soulful. In addition to those innovations, there were also plenty of catchy moments along with some 60s throwback melodies. What’s a genuine shame is that they didn’t keep that same momentum going for their last two records, 2005’s “Fosbury” and 2008’s “Activity Center”. Both were pleasant enough, but were more regressive in style and substance than innovative like they should have been. With a title like “The Past, the Present and the Possible”, you’d hope it might be exactly as described, a blending together of the band’s earlier styles with some more progressive and different. Instead, the band is kind of on autopilot.

The thing about autopilot is that it’s not always such a bad thing if you’ve got a lot going for you. Tahiti 80 may not have momentum exactly, but what they do have is likeability. Their music always seems so earnest and well-intentioned, kind of like a teenager from a remote Southern community venturing out in the big city for the very first time. Sure, the city will eat him alive, but depite this you still want to root for him and the kinder,gentler Southern hospitality he brings. Think Kenneth from “30 Rock” and you’ll have a firm grasp on how this band seems to function in the world. Still, they do have the occasion to surprise, as the sharper guitar lines on album opener “Defender” bring to the forefront. It adds a slight edge to the band that their very smooth and often synth-dominated song structures don’t typically have. Things are back to your more “normal” version of Tahiti 80 on first single “Darlin'”, but the track excels with a strong hook and excellent tempo, resulting in one of the band’s strongest tracks in a very long time. If these guys are going to have a hit song, this is their best bet, even if it’s not quite the powehouse anthem they need to carry them there. “Solitary Bizness”, carried over from last year’s EP of the same title, provides a funky respite from the two bland tracks that surround it known as “Gate 33” and “Want Some?”.

A track like “Easy” seems like it would be exactly that to create for Tahiti 80, yet it moderately succeeds despite being fairly standard for the band. An upbeat acoustic number, it’s so damn charming that you’re kind of a bad person if you put it down. Despite being divided into two distinct halves while maintaining a singular running time, the title track does very little with such an attempt to experiment. The first half is more upbeat and poppy, while the second half is a slow ballad and neither is memorable in any way. In fact, the only really notable song on the entire second half of the album is “Crack Up (Extended)”, and that plays out pretty much as a twice-as-long remix of the same song on the “Solitary Bizness” EP. It’s not radio-worthy, but if some inventive club DJ likes the track enough to spin it, there’s the possibility of an underground rave hit. That option is probably better than the alternative, which is simply ignoring it.

Poor Tahiti 80. They’ve pretty much become the vanilla ice cream of the French music world. Vanilla is a fine flavor, and nice every now and then, but something with berries or other flavors mixed in typically is more exciting and better. While digging through the relative plainness of their songs, you’ll occasionally encounter a nut or other flavorful bit show up, adding just a hint of thrilling variety, otherwise known as bits of what could be. It’s these moments that give you reason to pause, and to hope that there will be more just like them to come. The disappointment is that more often than not they never do. Tahiti 80 may be content to continue making the same sort of shapeless indie pop for the rest of their careers, aiming less for massive success and more to satisfy a niche group of fans, but you also kind of want to slap them around and demand that they go off the deep end with some experiment. Make a concept record. Play around with Krautrock or chillwave. Maybe test the waters with an oddball EP. Whatever it takes to break them out of this pattern of normalcy they’ve reached. “The Past, the Present and the Possible” undoubtedly has a lovely few moments that tingle with the excitement of what might be, but they are far too few to make it an album worth recommending. You’re a really nice band Tahiti 80, and I’m happy we’re friends, but I just don’t see it going any farther than that.

Tahiti 80 – Darlin’ (Jimmy Edgar Remix)
Tahiti 80 – Darlin’ (John Talabot’s OscuroBaile Remix)

Buy “The Past, the Present and the Possible” from Amazon MP3

Album Review: Yuck – Yuck [Fat Possum]

By Faronheit

On 02/22/2011

In album review, BNM, mp3, music

Considering the reverence with which everyone speaks about the 90s, it should come as little surprise that they’re experiencing a bit of a revival right now. Of course these various decade genre revivals are coming quicker than ever these days as more acts are paying close homage to their influences rather than adventuring out of the box a bit more and attempting something new. The 80s sprung back to life courtesy of The Killers and the host of other bands that rode the same wave to success. There hasn’t really been a singular trigger for this “return to the 90s” movement, but a whole bunch of reunions probably has something to do with it, as much if not more than 90s-leaning bands like Japandroids, Surfer Blood, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart and No Age have these last couple years. At the very least, those of us that lived through the 90s and loved the music from it are now given a chance to in some senses re-live a lot of those things once again from an older and wiser viewpoint. Also, those significantly younger kids born in the 90s now have a good introduction to an era that they probably never knew in infancy. So long as we’re giving the 90s a second time over though, let’s try to be just a little more critical and careful about what bands thrive and which ones can go ignored. By now most of us should know better, right? It is with that mindset you’re invited to have a glance at the world of Yuck. Here’s a group of young guys from the UK that have clearly obsessed over guitar squalor and art-pop of the 90s and their self-titled debut album not only proves this but on that same token smartly elevates them to nearly the level of the greats they’ve learned so much from.

From the very first notes of energetic album opener “Get Away”, Yuck have instantly transported you back to a time when the fuzzed-out electric guitar was king. There’s a heavy crunch of a melody that envelops you as singer/guitarist Daniel Blumberg’s vocals come filtered through a layer of grittiness and crackle that has an almost Malkmus-esque Pavement feel. Additionally, there’s a squiggly, high-pitched guitar solo that emerges above the fray a number of times on the track that’s eerily reminiscent of J. Mascis and Dinosaur Jr. Not a lot of bands can pull that off convincingly, but Yuck do it not only on “Get Away”, but also on “Holing Out” and “Operation” as well without even blinking. Distortion pedals take over in full on “The Wall”, a pretty jangly number that’s quite catchy with a Guided By Voices/Pavement vibe to it. The vocals are so buried and undercut that at times the guitars just completely overtake everything standing in their way, much like the proverbial “wall” in the song’s title and lyrics. Acoustic guitars, crisp vocals and harmonies on “Shook Down” do a lot to change the vibe of the record and display some sonic diversity from Yuck in the early goings. It’s one of those sad-sack teenage ballads with just a hint of pep in its step despite the yearning aspects. It’s also a nice change of pace between the loud (but fun) guitar sandwich of “The Wall” and “Holing Out”. Teenage Fanclub meets Elliott Smith courtesy of the acoustic “Suicide Policeman”, just as an almost sunny melody complete with harmonies, xylophones and horns meets some not entirely upbeat lyrics. Still, the track is one of a handful of exceptional standouts that also includes the song that follows it, the classic Yo La Tengo-baiting “Georgia”. The male-female harmonies are used exceptionally well next to the energetic, distorted electric guitars and a stronger-than-usual rhythm section that really carries the track. For a song like “Stutter”, you get the impression you’ve heard a number of ballads just like it before from a number of different bands in a number of different places, but can’t ever quite put your finger on just when or where. That’s actually a big part of Yuck’s charm, in that they’re able to bring a whole lot of fond memories to mind but never so explicitly that you feel like they’re ripping somebody off. It’s just original and dynamic enough to work in their favor. There’s something R.E.M.-ish about “SUnday”, and most likely it’s the way the guitars function in the song because it’s definitely not the vocals. Either way, the song is just another one of the many late album delights hiding out where you least expect them. Just before closing things out, Yuck throws an instrumental our way courtesy of “Rose Gives A Lilly”. It does what any lovely post-rock inspired instrumental should do, which is hold our attention for the duration. Things move organically then into the 7+ minute post-rock/shoegaze finale of “Rubber”. The song trudges along in slow-burn fashion, like watching a house engulfed in flames via slow motion. There’s a dark and sinister quality to the sheer squalls of noise that wash over you time and time again, but it’s immensely beautiful too. If you’ve not yet seen the music video for “Rubber”, which is “dog-gone” interesting, it brings a new-found appreciation to oddities that you can’t erase from your head but kind of don’t want to.

A big part of what makes Yuck so interesting and impressive is the variety of sounds that they explore on their debut. Sure, every song is 90s-centric in one way or another, but other than that it’s a small challenge to box them in a sonic corner. One minute they’re doing a high energy fuzzed out rock song, the next an acoustic-driven ballad and the next a gob smacking post-rock jam. None of it is particularly upbeat or happy, but when you really think about it, the 90s weren’t either. The grunge movement, among other things, was born out of frustration with growing up. Hell yes it’s tough to be a teenager today, because until they can create a pill that gets all those crazy mood swings and relationship difficulties under control, it’s going to remain tough. Yuck may not have the grunge sound, but a lot of their songs do focus on breakups and other adulthood struggles. Just barely out of their teens themselves, a lot of what’s on this self-titled album may be drawn from autobiographical experiences. The only real problem with the lyrics are that there’s the occasional clunker in there that just doesn’t quite work despite their best efforts. Those moments are few and far between though, and instrumentally things are so strong and sharp that the words matter just a little bit less. Of the many artists reaching back to the 90s for inspiration, Yuck turn out to be among the strongest thanks to those seriously great musical chops. At the end of last year, a number of publications named Yuck among the crop of fresh new artists to watch for in 2011. The good news is that they were right, and the band’s debut record is one of the stronger things released in these first couple months of the new year. Whether it can sustain such momentum and stick with people all the way through the best of’s in December, we’ll just have to play a game of wait and see on that.

Yuck – Georgia
Yuck – Rubber

Buy “Yuck” from Amazon

Click past the jump to see the music video for “Rubber” (NSFW)

Album Review: Bright Eyes – The People’s Key [Saddle Creek]

By Faronheit

On 02/17/2011

In album review, music

Conor Oberst says that “The People’s Key” will be the last Bright Eyes album. Presumably he’s not quitting music, but instead feels like the music he wants to make in the future will not be cut from that same Bright Eyes cloth. What’s kind of funny is that Bright Eyes hasn’t really sounded like Bright Eyes in awhile anyways, so the death of the name could be considered more of a blessing than a curse. The blessing of course would be that there’d be no more crappy Bright Eyes albums, though the negative to that means there won’t be anymore great Bright Eyes albums either. It’s been nearly 10 years since there’s been a Bright Eyes record that was more than worth your time, and that came in the form of 2002’s “Lifted…”. That’s not to say the project hasn’t had some special moments in more recent years, but there hasn’t been a front-to-back great Bright Eyes album in awhile. The exact reason why can be a little tough to pinpoint and explain, but many might argue that given the band’s revolving door of members as well as the natural inclination to “do something different” as time passed caused some tumultuous shifts in direction. Also, Oberst has grown up quite a bit since starting the project as an angsty teenager (while being labeled “the next Bob Dylan”), so with age and experience comes new perspectives and emotions.

At least Oberst has kept himself busy. His last two albums have not been Bright Eyes records, but a self-titled solo jaunt in 2008 and a team-up with the Mystic Valley Band in 2009. Both those records were pretty much a continuation of a number of sounds exposed in the last Bright Eyes album, 2007’s “Cassadaga”. Alt-country is where Oberst docked his ship for those years, though “Cassadaga” had a touch more experimental and complicated instrumental elements to it, going for a more widescreen and overblown view by comparison. In the other direction though, the Mystic Valley Band record, “Outer South”, might as well have been a “bro rock” album for all the frat boys to play at their barn dances each fall. Unlike his self-titled solo effort, “Outer South” allowed for the Mystic Valley Band to be more than just a backing band, but instead full-fledged participants on the album – to the point where nearly half the songs weren’t written or sung by Oberst himself. After a nightmare such as that, it was actually very much a relief to hear that there’d be another Bright Eyes album and the Mystic Valley Band might as well go fuck off, at least for the time being. In interviews leading up to the release of “The People’s Key”, Oberst was also touting how he’s “done” with the whole alt-country/Americana phase and hopes that the new record would be something different and interesting compared with what he’s done before. The good news is he’s at least half right.

The very beginning of “The People’s Key” features a couple minutes of spoken word courtesy of Texas musician Denny Brewer. He goes on about the dawn of humanity and how basically reptile-like aliens came here and populated the planet – “really sane” ramblings (/sarcasm) that definitely push a science fiction vibe out there from the start. The song part of “Firewall” kicks in after that, with a closely-picked electric guitar mumbling next to Oberst’s dominant vocal. The tempo never really picks up, nor does that guitar ever break the pattern it establishes from the start, but nevertheless there is a build up because more and more things get added to the mix as time passes. Oberst continues to toss out bits of lyrical wisdom in couplets, and while he doesn’t make too much sense from a full song, widescreen perspective, the wordplay is excellent as always. One particular line in “Firewall” stands out just a touch, and that’d be, “feelin’ close, but keepin’ my distance”. The reason why it stands out is that after listening to the album several times is because those two phrases kind of sum up the record as a whole. Yes, we’re being engaged, but unlike many past Bright Eyes albums, Oberst feels just a little more disconnected and distant than before. A project that began as a painfully personal exercise is now just a series of cleverly arranged phrases that sound really pretty together but don’t amount to a whole lot. Examine the lyrical content of a song like “Approximate Sunlight” and you’ll get gems such as “lick the solarplex of some L.A. shaman” or “the quinceanera dress she bought was unstitched with bullets”, both of which make very little sense in context but are drool-inducingly well written.

Stylistically speaking, hopefully nobody was holding their breath for a return to the sparse folk of early Bright Eyes material. What “The People’s Key” best resembles is actually Oberst’s brash, rock and roll one-off 2002 side project Desaparecidos, though with a bit more of an electro edge. For a Bright Eyes record, it’s the group’s poppiest and easiest to digest album, which is a good thing only if you want it to be. The positive of such a move is that there aren’t really any failed experiments, probably because there aren’t really any experiments. The only real “out there” elements are the aforementioned spoken word bits by Denny Brewer, that pop up multiple times throughout the record, and those sorts of things are pretty much expected from Bright Eyes at this point. Tracks like “Shell Games” and “Jejune Stars” are upbeat in tone and have relatively well-played hooks that stick with you, but one is an almost Spoon-like piano cut while the other slams on the power chords mixed with synths. Amidst the crunchy staccato guitars of “Haile Selassie” is some simply wonderful keyboard work that brings a warmth to the track that’d be entirely missing without it. Similarly, the organ work on “Triple Spiral”, along with the backing vocals, are the two most heroic things about the song, though there’s a lot of great things being done in those 4 minutes that makes it one of the album’s best. What is the true highlight of “The People’s Key” comes in the form of “Ladder Song”, which is classic Bright Eyes in the best possible way. Oberst sitting by himself at a piano, playing a sad ballad that not only makes sense but feels immensely personal. It shows up right near the end of the album, as if in giving his last hurrahs to this project he wanted to look back one last time at where he came from all those years ago. That young and highly emotional kid is still buried somewhere within him, and on rare occasions he’ll poke his head out, but for all practical purposes we’re dealing with a radically changed person from the one that many of us got to know quite well during our own troubled youths. Of course if we’re no longer troubled and he’s no longer troubled, does it make any sense to keep trying to squeeze blood from that orange? Probably not.

The best part of “The People’s Key” is that it’s one of the few Bright Eyes albums that doesn’t feel like there’s any gimmick associated with it. There’s not really any overarching theme or philosophy, though many of the songs do hint at some sort of spirituality or religious context (while never getting “preachy”). Instead, these are straight songs, played well and with a fair amount of enthusiasm, making it the most positive and dare I say delightful Bright Eyes record ever. If the story of this band were the plot of a movie, it’d be like the early days were hell and misery, but as time went on things got better until the happy ending resolution. The thing is, real life doesn’t particularly play out like it does in the movies, and all too often those happy endings either never come or never reach those euphoria-induced states we might originally aim for. That’s not saying the positivity in “The People’s Key” is disingenuous or a bad thing, but instead something more formulaic and bland. These songs are very nice to listen to, and the toning down of the bombast that “Cassadaga” pushed is a welcome thing, but outside of some strongly organized words, not much on this record stands out as overtly excellent. The personal connection that Conor Oberst has typically brought to the Bright Eyes name, even when he’s not necessarily sad, has pretty much been the selling point. No matter what the experiment he was trying, from the sparse folk beginnings to the electro sounds of “Digital Ash in a Digital Urn” to the expansive Americana melodies of more recent years, the first-person narrated stories Oberst wrote, true or not, could always be counted on to set him apart from everyone else. By downplaying and largely eliminating those aspects from “The People’s Key”, there’s not a lot of distinction between this music and a lot of what else is out there. The good news is that the album still winds up being better than a few of the other records he’s put out recently, solo, with the Mystic Valley Band or Bright Eyes. At the very least, it’d be nice to see Bright Eyes get some radio airplay and a much larger fanbase as a result of this record. It’s certainly worthy of it, and would be pretty fitting tribute to the band name being retired. That way, all those new young fans can progress through the Bright Eyes catalogue backwards, only to discover what we did those many years ago – here’s a guy that truly understands all the problems in my life right now, and that wounded voice and lyrics of his brilliantly reflect all those things in a way I could never truly express on my own.

Buy “The People’s Key” from Amazon

Album Review: PJ Harvey – Let England Shake [Island/Def Jam/Vagrant]

By Faronheit

On 02/15/2011

In album review, BNM, music

Hear ye, hear ye, hold thy tongues whilst I speak (er, write). Thee Polly Jean Harvey has just released her latest opus, the sublimely titled “Let England Shake”. Her record of duets with John Parish nonwithstanding, this marks her ninth full length and first official “solo” album since 2007’s “White Chalk”. Of course none of her records are truly solo efforts given the number of people involved behind the scenes that make up backing musicians, which includes yet again Parish, along with Mick Harvey and producer Flood. Last time around PJ Harvey pulled her biggest 180 after what seemed like a career of 180s when she set down her guitar and much of the bluesy style of older recordings and chose to deal almost exclusively with the piano and the autoharp. “White Chalk” was a record of loneliness and desperation, of a woman so far separated from almost everyone else that she’s not even sure who she is anymore. Even the vocals weren’t her normal lower register growl, opting instead for some lilting, high-pitched “experiment” that left many fans more upset than the actual absence of guitars or any mood above what most might consider to be hideously depressed. In that respect, such a record could also be called very “English” in nature – in particular if you know just how completely unhappy many of the people living there can be (please note, I said MANY and not ALL before you send me an email, happy British people). Blame it on the weather, or blame it on a rich and long history of difficulties and war. Speaking of which, was is the topic PJ Harvey is stuck on for “Let England Shake”, and if you guessed that it’s not a record of stirring battle anthems you’d be spot on.

Let’s set the scene: it’s World War I and there’s been lots of battles fought and lots of people killed. The first World War was labeled The Great War not because it was great in the positive sense, but rather great as in big and horrible. From trench warfare to brutal battlefield conditions and very close range combat, it wasn’t a pleasant time for anyone. No stranger to disturbing imagery in her lyrics, PJ Harvey uses such elements as fodder on “Let England Shake”, a very fitting reminder of the terrible things our ancestors went through that’s not recognized or discussed much these days. As dark as war can get, and that’s pretty much ideal for Harvey, what pushes this record out from its deep and somber hole is actually the composition of the songs. No, Polly Jean hasn’t picked up her guitar again full time to tear things up the way she used to, but instead these are livelier compositions crafted from a very wide variety of instruments that come across as interesting and engaging if you pay just a little less attention to the words associated with them. The opening title track is a bouncy potential single that makes great use of xylophone, autoharp, piano and percussion. The familiar strums of electric guitar emerge from hibernation on “The Last Living Rose”, though the heavy bass drum and slices of saxophone throw a delightful little wrench in what would otherwise be a pretty close to normal PJ Harvey song. Eddie Cochran’s “Summertime Blues” plays a direct influence on the lyrics of “The Words That Maketh Murder”, a rather jaunty cut about the illusions that post-war diplomacy might make everything that came before it seem justified. It’s actually the schoolyard handclaps and the way that Harvey sings with almost bemused sarcasm that sells the track as one of the album’s strongest. Similarly, late album cut “Written on the Forehead” pulls bits of Niney the Observer’s “Blood and Fire” for a more atmospheric and emotional appeal that’s actually about the current turmoil in Iraq rather than WWI like most everything else.

The liberal use of autoharp and horns for “All and Everyone” feels surprisingly fitting as a memorial to fallen soldiers, to the point where it’d work exceptionally well on the soundtrack or closing credits to an epic, award-winning war film. “On Battleship Hill” is a stunningly gorgeous acoustic track with touches of piano that has Harvey stretching her voice to almost Joanna Newsom-like high pitches as she goes into vivid detail about the trenches at the title’s location, which was part of the Gallipoli campaign. In terms of a more “classic” PJ Harvey, “Bitter Branches” begins as a more folk-driven acoustic number before the electric guitar begins to flare up as the lyrics become more venomous and angry. The touches of xylophone are nice as well towards the end of the song. It’s interesting to hear John Parish’s vocal contributions to “Let England Shake”, serving as almost a casual reminder of 2009’s collaborative record with Harvey, “A Woman a Man Walked By”. He does a fair amount of backing vocals, from “The Glorious Land” to “England” to the doubled over harmonies of “Bitter Branches” and “Hanging In the Wire”. On “The Words That Maketh Murder” he very much makes his presence known, and album closer “The Colour of the Earth” gives him his own half verse before Harvey steps in and sings along with him. The difference between “Let England Shake” and “A Woman a Man Walked By” is in the details and composition of course. Parish composed all of the 2009 record, while Harvey just had to write lyrics and sing along with him. Here, Harvey is firmly at the controls both lyrically and compositionally, with Parish playing the support guy. Compared to Harvey’s past solo-in-name records though, Parish has significantly upped his presence on the new album, and the small degree of variation proves to be one of the record’s more winning and varied elements.

Far be it from me to judge, but it seems just a little bit odd that PJ Harvey decided to make a record about World War I, a conflict that happened around 50 years before she was born. Of course nobody is questioning Titus Andronicus’ motives for making the Civil War-themed “The Monitor” last year. Anybody can be a history buff, and after you’ve written upteen records and have been around for 20 years or more, whatever it takes to spark creativity, by all means use it. It turns out that for “Let England Shake”, The Great War has left Polly Jean Harvey more revitalized and better than she has been in at least 10, if not 15 years. The way she’s been able to broaden her musical palette and try new things while still maintaining a modicum of success is nothing short of impressive, and that she continues to use those accumulated tools and styles even moreso. Additionally it’s nice to hear her compose songs that have some real life and hooks to them again, in the possibility that maybe they’ll get played someplace other than through somebody’s headphones when they’re sad and lonely. World War I may not be the most pleasant topic, but Harvey has often thrived on the darker, scarier side of things anyways. This is a different sort of angle for her, and she shines because of it. A few years ago close to the release of “White Chalk” there was buzz suggesting that PJ Harvey was just going to call it quits and stop making music. Be thankful she didn’t – “Let England Shake” makes for one of the best records in her long career.

PJ Harvey – Written On The Forehead

Buy “Let England Shake” from Amazon

Album Review: La Sera – La Sera [Hardly Art]

By Faronheit

On 02/14/2011

In album review, mp3, music

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”.

La Sera – Never Come Around
La Sera – Devils Hearts Grow Gold

Buy “La Sera” from Amazon

Album Review: Esben and the Witch – Violet Cries [Matador]

By Faronheit

On 02/11/2011

In album review, mp3, music

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.

Esben and the Witch – Warpath

REMIX
Esben and the Witch – Marching Song (Snorkel Mix)

Buy “Violet Cries” from Amazon

Album Review: Cut Copy – Zonoscope [Modular]

By Faronheit

On 02/10/2011

In album review, BNM, mp3, music

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.

Cut Copy – Need You Now

REMIXES
Cut Copy – Take Me Over (Thee Loving Hand Remix by Tim Goldsworthy)
Cut Copy – Take Me Over (Midnight Magic Remix)

Buy “Zonoscope” from Amazon

Album Review: James Blake – James Blake [Atlas/A&M/Universal Republic]

By Faronheit

On 02/08/2011

In album review, BNM, music

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?

Buy “James Blake” from Amazon MP3

Album Review: …And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead – Tao of the Dead [Richter Scale/Superball]

By Faronheit

On 02/07/2011

In album review, mp3, music

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.

Trail of Dead – Summer Of All Dead Souls

…And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead – Weight of the Sun (Or, the Post-Modern Prometheus)

Buy “Tao of the Dead” from Amazon

Album Review: The Babies – The Babies [Shrimper]

By Faronheit

On 02/02/2011

In album review, mp3, music

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.

The Babies – Run Me Over

Preorder “The Babies” from Amazon

Album Review: The Go! Team – Rolling Blackouts [Memphis Industries]

By Faronheit

On 02/01/2011

In album review, music

When The Go! Team burst onto the music scene back in 2004 with their debut record “Thunder, Lightning, Strike”, they had a wholly unique sound, pieced together courtesy of a multitude of samples. High energy, throwback pop is what The Go! Team specialized in, the sort that you put on during a party or when you’re having fun with friends thanks to its uplifting and easily danceable melodies. Ian Parton was the man behind the name, and while he generated that entire debut album pretty much on his own, performing it live there were dozens of new recruits that came on board to help make sure that party sound was completely evident on stage. By creating his own merry band of misfits, Parton chose to actually use them when creating 2007’s “Proof of Youth”, collapsing the first record’s sample-heavy presence into something that could accomodate more live and original vocal performances. That second record boasted guest vocal spots from legendary hip hop pioneer Chuck D and Bonde do Role’s Marina Ribatski among others, though it was Parton’s way of mixing them on an even plane with those classic samples that got him in just a spot of trouble. If you’re not going to openly feature your guests at the forefront of the songs they’re on, then why have them contribute in the first place? It was that and what basically amounted to a repeat of “Thunder, Lightning, Strike” that sent The Go! Team on the downslope of popularity. Four years later, Parton finally makes a return with the third GO! Team long player “Rolling Blackouts”, and if you liked the first two there should be no reason to dislike this one.

A blaring horn section sounds the alarm for the fast-paced swirling of opening track “T.O.R.N.A.D.O.”. The whole thing is done marching band-style, with Ninja throwing down some high speed rhymes between the rather catchy chorus that naturally spells out the song title. It’s a great way to introduce “Rolling Blackouts”, with something a bit more straightforward and darker than what we might be used to while maintaining that flirty and fun vibe. Deerhoof’s Satomi Matsuzaki lends her vocal talents to “Secretary Song”, which is pretty classic Go! Team in how it utilizes a number of samples and pushes what’s best interpreted as a small variation on the long-standing J-pop sound. It makes for one of the album’s best and most interesting tracks, but you can’t help but wonder if it’s just a little racist to pair Satomi’s vocals with those cutesy pan-Asian samples rather than almost anything else. Dominique Young Unique back on the microphone for the 70s disco-infused “Apollo Throwdown”, a nice track with a decent hook but otherwise up to expectations for the band rather than rising above them. 50s girl-group pop is what “Ready to Go Steady” has to offer, and yet again it’s a reasonable facsimile for the real thing, with sugar-sweet and innocent vocals courtesy of Lispector along with a really memorable chorus. The marching band horns return, this time mixed with a touch of xylophone for the instrumental “Bust-Out Brigade”, perhaps the most pointless and ineffective track on the entire album. It basically feels like a repeat of “T.O.R.N.A.D.O.” but without the vocals. Before Best Coast became the toast of indie town, Bethany Cosentino contributed vocals to the song “Buy Nothing Day”, a track that just might be the most straightforward and mainstream thing The Go! Team have ever been a part of. Were Cosentino not singing here, this is the type of song you can absolutely imagine a female pop star armed with a guitar to reach the Top 40 charts courtesy of a big fat record label push. As it stands, the song may deserve to be massively popular but most likely will just stay confined to the indie circles where it deserves every bit of acclaim it gets. We may be only one month into 2011, but count on “Buy Nothing Day” to score some serious points when it comes to counting down the year’s best songs. Lo-fi 80s synth pop meets 70s soft rock courtesy of the short instrumental “Super Triangle”, one of the quieter and more secretly delightful moments on the record. Lush and scenic American majesty is at the heart of “Yosemite Theme”, a track that with its harmonica, horns and slight disco feel could very well have served as a theme song to a 70s TV comedy about park rangers. The London African Gospel Choir provides some interesting spice to “The Running Range”, and in fact without them the song would just be another groove-tastic bit of average fun for The Go! Team. Before closing things out, there’s one last genuine delight on “Rolling Blackouts”, and it comes courtesy of the title track. It’s a scuzzy lo-fi track that dabbles just a little bit in 90s Breeders-style female-fronted rock and roll. There are even hints of shoegaze too, and it’s again one of the more exciting and easy-to-digest songs on the album. There’s a certain comfort in knowing that the band can tackle something more modern than having to primarily stick with recycling old samples from the 60s and 70s.

It’s almost ironic that “Rolling Blackouts” the album excels when The Go! Team sound the least like themselves, foregoing samples for the sake of live instruments and pulling less of a throwback sound for something more modern and less gimmicky. At the very least, it brings some sense of evolution to the project, which would otherwise be completely ringing stale and a bit hackneyed by now. It’s been 7 years since The Go! Team first wowed us, and in order for them to continue to do so, you can’t keep relying on old habits. One thing that Parton continues to not fully understand is that not everything needs to be mixed at an equal volume level. That was the problem when he started to feature guest vocalists on “Proof of Youth” and it still hasn’t been corrected for the most part. The melody is important, yes, and all the whiz-bang instruments and samples may be impressive, but sometimes the vocals just need to shine above all others. It can mean the difference between a good pop song and a great one. Thankfully, even with some of the vocals occasionally covered up by various instruments, there’s a handful of shining moments that turn “Rolling Blackouts” into something better than it has any right to be. Not only that, but the majority of these songs remain irrepressably fun – to the point where you can’t look down on them too much. So this album is generally a good time, despite a number of questionable choices. Hopefully next time around Parton and the collection of lovely people he calls bandmates will continue to move in a better direction. If that doesn’t happen, most of us might just tire of the schtick and ask The Go! Team to just stop.

Click through the jump to stream the entire album!

Buy “Rolling Blackouts” from Amazon

Album Review: Ben + Vesper – HONORS [Sounds Familyre]

By Faronheit

On 01/31/2011

In album review, mp3, music

Ben + Vesper are also known as Ben and Vesper Stamper, a married couple that makes beautiful music together. They follow in the tradition of many other husband and wife duos from Mates of State to Handsome Furs and one of this year’s hot new buzz bands Tennis. What sets Ben + Vesper apart from similar acts? The first and most immediately noticeable thing about them is their extremely liberal use of vocal harmonies. Every single track is a duet in one form or another, and Ben’s deeper, more baritone voice matched with Vesper’s velvety one usually results in inspired beauty on its own. It’s a far cry from the way Mates of State tend to do it, with lots of playful energy that often borders on annoyingly chipper. The harmonies are better compared with the couple records that Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan did together, though Ben’s voice isn’t nearly as rough or world-weary as Lanegan’s is and Vesper’s voice isn’t nearly as high and fragile as Campbell’s is. Beyond mere voices though, Ben + Vesper have lovely melodies to work with, some very sparse with maybe only 2-3 instruments total on them, what you might expect from a duo such as this. For their new album “HONORS” though, most of the songs are more vivid and fully realized thanks to a whole lot of extra instrumentation, courtesy of a brand new three-man backing band. There’s also some small bits of orchestration, always played in the most subtle manner possible, and guest performers contributing what they can, including the always wonderful Sufjan Stevens on piano. The final product is something that’s sometimes catchy, frequently weird, but always beautiful.

Vesper takes lead vocals on opening track “Adult vAcA”, a winner right from the intro with its woozy electric guitar and relaxed percussion. Once the first verse begins the melody shrinks thanks to some quiet piano chords, light bass and some cymbal taps, but picks up nicely for a gorgeous chorus that features descending guitar and highlighted vocal harmonies. The lines, “Tomorrow is working out much better today/Notice the thought and date the day” stick well in your head from the first time they’re sung and only cement themselves further the more they’re repeated in the chorus. For the bridge Ben’s vocals are treated with an echo effect that is fascinating unto itself before some ascending guitar and keyboard speed things to a solid conclusion. The bright and energetic way the piano opens “My Father’s Eyes” hints towards the explosion of the full band that comes in mid-way through the first verse. The song winds up having great pacing, along with a well-placed guitar solo and more wonderful harmonies, but it ends up lacking memorability. For all the things it does right, there’s no easy hook or clearly defined structure to the song, which is just a tiny problem when trying to remember what it sounded like hours later. Much better are the soft rock stylings of “Knee-Hi Wall”. Between the shimmering keyboards, funky bass lines and small chorus of backing vocals, the track has a huge 70s vibe to it that turns out to be one of the best moments on the entire album. Minimalism seems to be what “Find Your Friend” does best, beginning with Ben taking his vocals sans-backing melody to a deeper and darker Nick Cave-like range for much of the song. When the instruments do come in, they keep a very low profile, quietly going about their business with only the 60s-style keyboard doing the heavy lifting when it comes to melody outside of the vocals. There’s a subdued beauty to the song that really shines through in the last 90 seconds when the singing stops and the piano comes in to guide everything to a quietly fitting conclusion. “Sugar Song” also holds steadfast with an instrumental contribution so small it almost doesn’t matter if it’s there at all. The vocals are front and center as a piano and guitar are very lightly sprinkled about, though there is a brief moment near the end of the song where a small battalion of violins rises up and ratchets up the intensity for one loud peak of a moment before settling back down into oblivion from whence it came. It’s a rather impressive display of talent, that Ben + Vesper are able to do so much with so little. The final two songs, “Understruggle; Yay, Win” and “HONORS” are both fuller songs instrumentally, but also break out a few things you won’t hear in any other spots on the record. Vesper is back on lead vocals for “Understruggle; Yay, Win”, and there’s a Sufjan Stevens-inspired banjo (perhaps played by Sufjan himself) mixed with some basic acoustic guitar and a touch of organ that bring a folksy charm to the ballad, only aided by a choir of backing vocals. After some twinkling keyboards begin the closing song “HONORS”, it ducks out as the vocals come in and guitars take over. The song itself holds a steady and relatively normal melody until the final minute when multiple keyboards and organs send things soaring into the stratosphere with a whole collection of voices singing triumphantly in unison for one last blissed out moment. It’s a fitting end to a record that thrives on atmosphere and the collective vocal power of Ben and Vesper Stamper.

One of the most unique things about “HONORS” and Ben + Vesper in general are their lyrics. Weird is a delicate way of putting it. Take a song like “Holly Home?” as an example, which begins with a back-and-forth conversation between Ben and Vesper that goes something like this: “Hi, is Holly Home?/No, I mean yes, well she is sleeping/Oh, okay who is this? Is this who I think it is?/If you are guessing this, then you are right in thinking this”. Ben tells a childhood story about how he made a “totally inspiring, and most succinct/it was ahead of its time” movie, but then it got erased when his dad recorded a rerun of “The Fugitive” over it. Um, ok, sounds tragic. And the title track goes on and on about the apocalyptic destruction of our planet due to a massive meteor (or something like that), and somehow celebrities are involved. “High time to hire the balding Bru/Bruce Willis shoots the flame/Goodbye, Shatner sun machine/Hello swarming dreams” is just a snippet of the oddities that song has to offer. Despite such unconventional and nonsensical wordplay, Ben + Vesper sell it with the utmost sincerity, and most of the time succeed in making us believe it’s not a problem. There are other small issues with “HONORS” though, the most notable of which stems from weak song structure. Outside of gems like “Adult vAcA” and “Knee-Hi Wall” are songs that sound pretty nice but drift aimlessly towards a conclusion. There’s not much in the way of repeated choruses with sharply developed hooks or even dynamic pacing to help the record drift by faster. And the majority of the standout moments typically come from some smart use of vocal harmonies rather than the overall composition of the songs. If these seem like pretty big things, well, that depends on how forgiving you’re willing to be, and what about a track appeals to you most. There’s definitely much more good going on with this album than bad, and this is definitely a step forwards for Ben + Vesper in terms of their overall development for the future. Of course so much of this also screams “transitional record”, so the hope is that they reach another plateau rather than spend any more time pushing that heavy boulder up a gigantic hill. “HONORS” may not be worthy of what its title suggests, but with a touch more work they’ll get there soon enough.

Ben + Vesper – My Father’s Eyes
Ben + Vesper – Knee-Hi Wall

Buy “HONORS” from Amazon

Hello, and welcome to Faronheit! I hope you enjoy your stay. Before you read onwards, let me quickly explain a couple things.

All mp3s hosted on this site are for sampling purposes only. If you are an artist or record label or somebody representing said artists or copyrights, I would appreciate it if you'd send me an email should you need me to remove any content.

If you would like to send me any music, links, press materials, and the like via the web, please email me with any attachments or links to where I can find out more. Please note that if you send me mp3 attachments as well as Bandcamp or YouTube links, I will not be able to post them on my site. I will still listen to the songs and watch the videos, just don't expect them to appear in a post. Soundcloud or direct download mp3 links only please and thank you,

Contact information: faronheit@gmail.com

Hello, and welcome to Faronheit! I hope you enjoy your stay. Before you read onwards, let me quickly explain a couple things.

Contact information: faronheit@gmail.com