Category: album review Page 15 of 22

On 01/26/2011

Lia Ices – Grown Unknown
Lia Ices – Daphne (ft. Justin Vernon)

Lia Ices is a name that sticks. It’s so unconventional, yet familiar and fascinating that when it’s being bandied about or peppered into conversation that you’re almost driven to find out exactly who this person is. The first time I heard of Lia Ices was when she signed to Jagjaguwar some months ago in preparation for her second album, the freshly released “Grown Unknown”. Generally, Jagjaguwar has a strong stable of artists, which only provided more evidence as to why she is worthy of attention. But essentially it was the name that drew me in, as a good band name also does. I found myself repeating Lia Ices over and over again at random times until listening to her album was no longer an option but rather something I HAD to do. Seeing her live a couple weeks ago only added fuel to that fire, and during her set she played the majority of the new record, which she was also selling that night a couple weeks in advance of the official retail date. Two weeks and a bunch of listens later, here we are. Let’s talk some “Grown Unknown”.

The first thing you come to realize as the opening track “Love Is Won” drifts into your ears is that Lia Ices is most definitely more than a name – she is, above all else, a voice. And what a voice it is: soft but strong, equal parts thrilling and heartbreaking. It’s thanks to those pipes that Ices truly distinguishes herself from her peers, though on occasion she does bring to mind some of the greats – your Tori Amoses, your Leslie Feists, your Chan “Cat Power” Marshalls, and your Joanna Newsoms. Between her range and the ways her singing is utilized, moving from normal to echo-affected to multi-part harmonized with itself, she’s always exceptional even when there might be a little something off in the backing melody. The instruments are all standard fare for a female singer-songwriter sort, ranging from your normal piano/guitar/drums setup through bits of string sections, a bit of brass, and most remarkably – snaps and handclaps. These other instruments are less significant than the woman herself, but without their primarily sparse and careful backing the songs on “Grown Unknown” would certainly lose some emotional heft and eclecticism.

Certainly one of the benefits of being signed to Jagjaguwar has to be some of the resources made available to you. While the production values are probably a little higher than her debut, the biggest score Ices makes for “Grown Unknown” has to be a guest spot from Justin Vernon of Bon Iver fame. His backing vocal on the track “Daphne” is a big part of what helps push the lush strings-and-acoustic-guitar track to a higher, more exceptional level. “Little Marriage” is cute just like a small white chapel, mixing organ-keyboard textures with some toy piano/xylophone and the jingle of car keys/finger snaps for percussion. Similarly, the title track begins with only a collection of handclaps and Ices’s somber singing before a gorgeous acoustic guitar takes over for what might amount to a chorus. Some lighter and deftly paced violins combine with the guitar and handclaps for the last minute of the song, bringing it to a rather enticing and gorgeous conclusion. Autoharp and military-style percussion meet for “After Is Always Before”, a song best recognized for its intense vocal harmonies and deep but minimal piano melody. “Ice Wine” and “Lilac” seem to be indebted to Cat Power and Feist respectively, though the strong violin presence helps to distinguish the former and the quiet creeping in of instruments sets the latter apart. Closing track “New Myth” sends the record out on a seriously winning note, with Ices firing on all cylinders. It’s not only one of her best vocal performances, but the horns and woodwinds are the exact right kind of subtle so as to provide a stellar assist rather than running away with the melody. There’s not much of a better way to end an album such as this one.

While there’s a lot of positive things to say about “Grown Unknown” and more than enough logic to determine just what the people at Jagjaguwar saw in her to hand her a deal, the album is not without its faults. The pacing of the record is rather glacial, in that there’s barely anything that reaches the mid-tempo range, and that’s at best. Really it does a lot of slow drifting and sounding gorgeous but not a whole lot beyond that. Lia Ices isn’t exactly looking to become a pop star, but an energetic track or two might do her well to break up the monotony of slow song after slower song. The other small issue is with her voice, which as I’ve already mentioned is pretty much the best thing she has going. There are a couple small moments on the album where either by the way she sings something or just the general phrasing of it, she sounds disingenuous to herself. Either she’s mimicking another artist or her emotional goes from hot to cold. In these couple moments when there’s supposed to be warmth and breadth and honesty, we get disaffection or disconnection instead. Perhaps that’s why her last name is Ices. Interestingly enough as well, “Grown Unknown” is a record best experienced during the coldest months of the year, though its presence is more like a lone blossomed flower poking out from a snow-covered field. If you’re not yet paying attention to Lia Ices, this album is a great place to start. She’s much more than just a cool name.

Buy “Grown Unknown” from Amazon

Album Review: Destroyer – Kaputt [Merge]

On 01/25/2011

In album review, BNM, mp3, music

Cheesy things and kitschy things are all about perspective. What’s one man’s treasure is another man’s trash and vice versa, and with this ever-changing world of ours, there’s generational gaps and disconnections that help to support that. As a child of the 80s, I find a particular amount of horror in some of the “mistakes” made during that decade, which includes things like shoulder pads, leg warmers, perms, an AIDS outbreak and some serious crap that some artists tried to pass off as pop music when it was anything but. To this day, synth pop or soft rock done in a certain way still really irks me if it dredges up some bad 80s memories. It’d be nice if bad 80s music were confined strictly to that decade, but with so many artists reaching backwards to find and exploit sounds of the past and adapt them to more modern conventions, now and then somebody goes to that spot and tries to pull it off yet again but with fingers crossed for a different result. Chromeo has been working that angle for a few albums now, and while there’s certainly a market for their brand of exploitation, most of the time it disgusts me. One of the people I would never expect to take a crack at bad 80s music would be Dan Bejar aka Destroyer, but on his new record “Kaputt” he does exactly that. Of course if anybody could pull it off with any sense of legitimacy, Destroyer would also be high up on that list.

Over the course of what’s now nine studio albums, Dan Bejar has proven himself to be a brilliant composer and songwriter, piecing together avant-pop melodies that are obtuse but still work in the exact ways they’re needed to. What was a little troubling about the last Destroyer record, 2008’s “Trouble In Dreams” was that it continued to use the same sorts of influences and approaches as the couple records prior to it, thereby turning an oft-unpredictable project into an utterly predictable one. 2009’s “Bay of Pigs” EP was a huge step back in the right direction. The nearly 14-minute title track was spacey, psychedelic and synth-infused with a large brushstroke of disco for a dance party should you desire one. It was a nice curveball that seemed to suggest the next Destroyer album would be in a similar, equally creative vein. With a shortened-by-two-minutes version titled “Bay of Pigs (Detail)” listed as the closing track on “Kaputt”, there was plenty of reason to believe that a more electro or disco-themed album was on the way. As it turns out, “Bay of Pigs (Detail)” is a standout track on the new album, but less because of how great it is and more because it’s the only one that doesn’t fully gel with everything that came before it. Instead of mixing 70s disco with modern electro tropes, “Kaputt” is Destroyer jumping to the late 70s/early 80s by pushing soft rock with a touch of jazz and a hint of pop. As I wasn’t very aware of much of the styles back in that era given that I was somewhere between infant and toddler, the way I generally define music from that era is via classic film soundtracks. While attempting a more John Hughes movie soundtrack probably would have served Destroyer well, “Kaputt” comes off more of a cross between the dark, brassy jazz of the “Taxi Driver” soundtrack mixed with the synth-pop of the “Scarface” (1983) soundtrack. By equating much of what happens on this record with those two classic films, it makes the whole thing that much more bearable and fascinating to listen to.

Opening track and first single “Chinatown” is a shock to the system from the very start, sputtering for a couple seconds at the open before what’s either electronic drums or a drum machine comes in with a steady but unnatural beat. Mixed with a lushly strummed acoustic guitar, the two fare well together until some heavy synths and wobbly keyboards take over the melody as the first verse begins. By the time the chorus strikes, a lone trumpet is fluttering in and out and around thanks to some echo effects. Bejar also gets some serious backing vocal help courtesy of Sibel Thrasher, and this is just the first of many appearances she’ll make on the album. The second verse welcomes a saxophone to the party for an extra touch of jazz. With a tempo that’s a little faster than a heavy ballad but a little slower than something you can tap your feet to, at its core the song is very much a condensed version of what the rest of the record will sound like. If “Chinatown” doesn’t thrill you, “Kaputt” is probably not going to be your record. On “Blue Eyes”, Bejar may make reference to New Order, but the song sounds very little like that band, though it might serve him well if it did. Instead, similar to how eyes come in pairs, you can pair up the different instruments on the song as each is essential to the other’s success. For example, the thinly plucked electric guitar isn’t as effective without the heavy bass as a counterpoint, just as the trumpet holds back some of the jazzy mood without the saxophone to compliment it. The chorus of female voices backing up and providing harmonies for Bejar are equally important as well, while the synths and percussion have their own thing going too. Among other things, those pairings alone are testament to the impressive and intricate way these songs are composed. But speaking of the last track’s reference to New Order, “Savage Night at the Opera”‘s towering synths and bouncy bass line actually does pay legitimate homage to the band. The electric guitar that comes in at the halfway mark is classic New Order as well, and the lack of any brass along with the solid tempo makes for one of the less interesting songs on the album but one of the easiest to fall in love with.

Two minutes of ambient, shimmering electronic sounds with some light acoustic guitar and piano begins the 8.5 minute “Suicide Demo for Kara Walker”, just before the flute shows up for some smooth jazz action. The flute is gone by the time Bejar starts singing though, as the track morphs into some late 70s funk, with a bass, piano and drum machine combination that works well with the brass section that hangs around for awhile before breaking into full-on free form solo mode for the last two minutes. Lyrically the song is significant as well, given that’s Kara Walker’s contribution to the track. She’s an artist specializing in racial history, and Bejar sings her unconventional words to interesting effect here. The six minutes that make up the title track “Kaputt” are remarkable in how they effortlessly blend some 80s-leaning dancefloor beats with brassy, smooth jazz. Without a doubt it’s challenging to pull off something like that, not to mention while Bejar sings the lines, “Wasting your days, chasing some girls alright/Chasing cocaine through the backrooms of the world all night”. When you really think about it in context with how the music pairs together a sexy saxophone melody with a coke-fueled dancefloor beat, there’s nothing more appropriate both for the song and the album as a whole.

There’s so much about “Kaputt” that absolutely screams corny, cheesy, out of style, and tacky. Pull some of the brass out of this record and you’ve got something much more new wave and on the righter/better side of 80s music. Take out all the synths and leave the brass, and you’ve got something severely soft rock/jazz that’s just about the worst sin you can commit to record (in my humble opinion). When placed together as they are on this album, the natural conclusion to draw is that it falls somewhere in between those two parallels. The thing is, “Kaputt” is not an okay record, or a simply good or bad one. Instead, it’s a miracle of an achievement – one of those rare cases where two separate and unequal parts can combine to create something greater than either could hope or dream to accomplish separately. Perhaps the best way to describe it is by saying that the worst elements present here take a nosedive so far down that they fall into the “so bad it’s good” category. It’s a new found appreciation for camp value, and a gambit that on paper appears to make no sense. Hell, reading about it now probably makes very little sense as well. Yet listening to it feels strangely familiar even though you’ve probably never heard anything like this before. This is not only one of the most original Destroyer albums to date, it’s also one of the most original albums you’ll hear this year – that’s virtually guaranteed. What else can satisfy fans of both Roxy Music and Kenny G in one sitting? Or maybe the better question is, why would anyone even want to attempt such a feat? Only Dan Bejar knows the answer to that one.

Destroyer – Chinatown

Buy “Kaputt” from Amazon

Album Review: Deerhoof – Deerhoof vs. Evil [Polyvinyl]

On 01/24/2011

Deerhoof – The Merry Barracks

Some bands, particularly the ones that have been around for a really long time, have a tendency to fall by the wayside and draw less attention the more music they release. Okay, so maybe it’s not always less attention, but critical acclaim may be a more accurate word to describe it. You take one look at Spoon, who after last year’s “Transference” found themselves in a place where plenty of people loved their record but not quite enough to earn them a mention at year’s end. The method of thought by some was that Spoon have put out such consistently good albums over the span of several years that we’ve become jaded and less thrilled by it. In other words, Spoon could be as great as they’ve always been, but it’s easier to dismiss it merely as “Spoon being Spoon” and getting more excited over a debut record from some new hot-to-trot band. You’ve been married for 20 years, for some mysterious reason you’re still getting regular (great) sex, but when the young new neighbor tries to seduce you one night while your spouse is out of town, it can be tough to resist. All analogies and metaphors aside, the same concept can be applied to a band like Deerhoof. They’ve been putting out albums consistently since 1997, and their 10th studio effort comes out this week in the form of “Deerhoof vs. Evil”.

One of the things that makes Deerhoof so unique is their unpredictability. There is what you could call the “Deerhoof sound”, and the reason it’s labeled as such is because no other bands make music similar to it. Jagged guitar riffs, percussion that goes from calm to insane at the drop of a hat (or hi-hat), synths or electronic elements that pop up out of nowhere, and Satomi Matsuzaki’s strange vocal tics and lyrics. Experimental rock, to be sure, but over the last 16 or so years the band has grown into a consistency where it’s all you expect from them. The way they keep it interesting is by constantly second guessing and re-arranging themselves in new ways. “Deerhoof vs. Evil” very much continues in that tradition, and once again the result is something fun, funny, weird and remarkably pop-centric. Opening track “Qui Dorn, Només Somia” begins with electronic beats leading into a frantically picked electric guitar and kitchen sink percussion but quickly dives into a much slower, more carefully composed melody for the first verse. After a brief xylophone and acoustic guitar breakdown that might be called a chorus, the second verse comes back with a louder, more instrumentally complicated version of what it was the first time around. The layers continue to build and build in a strange angular direction before finally dropping out in an instant. The entire time Satomi anchors things down with a French language vocal where clearly it’s less about what’s being said and more about the way she’s singing it. At first blush, “Behold A Marvel In the Darkness” is almost a normal-sounding pop song for Deerhoof, with vivid acoustic guitars and very traditional percussion holding steady as a small dose of electric guitar and harpsichord-tuned keyboards shimmer lightly. The acoustic guitars are all but gone or shoved way back in the mix to make room for some power chords on the electric guitars, balanced out by a few in-between moments of only keyboard as Satomi innocently asks, “What is this thing called love?”. A fuzzed out looped bass sample, mixed with some equally fuzzy ZZ Top-esque electric guitars give “The Merry Barracks” a psychedelic, krautrock base. Never content to stay in one place for too long, the track goes upbeat pop towards the end before surrendering to electronic insanity that turns the last 40 seconds of the song into one of the wilder moments on the record. There’s some Spanish acoustic guitars and maracas that craft a gorgeous slow melody for “No One Asked to Dance”, and there’s a hint of romance in the air for the duration. Outside of the emergence of some bass and harpsichord though, everything stays remarkably charming from beginning to end and it’s nice to hear the band maintain that even keel for once.

Don’t kick yourself if you’ve never heard “Let’s Dance the Jet” before, even though it’s a cover. The band picked the instrumental off the soundtrack to an obscure Greek film and decided to try their own rendition of it. High pitched keyboards compete with distorted electric guitars for a thrilling minute and a half of back-and-forths that does feel like it could have been the backing music for an action-packed movie from the 60s or 70s. Speaking of action-packed, if the band is fighting evil as the title of the album suggests, “Super DUper Rescue Heads!” could very well serve as their theme song. Synths sparkle, the bass has a nice buzz to it, and there’s even some Nintendo-like electronic sound effects mixed in for added effect. “Hello, you lucky so-and-so,” Satomi sings with an implied wink and a smile, right before the electric guitars come in and break out a rousing chorus. “Must Fight Current” is interesting in how it blends more Spanish-influenced acoustic guitar with a very bossa nova melody and vocals. and “Secret Mobilization” gets all 1970s courtesy of some funky keyboards before exploding huge with some extremely heavy electric guitars. Between the acoustic guitars, handclaps and light keyboards, “I Did Crimes For You” is about the cheeriest and cutest song about illegal activity you’ll hear so far in 2011. When Satomi says “This is a stickup/smash the windows”, she does so with such innocence that it’s practically like having a a small child pointing a hand in the shape of a gun at you and demanding you reach for the sky. And closing out the record, “Almost Everyone, Almost Always” is a gorgeous synth-washed dreamscape that features just a couple small moments of offbeat percussion and even a touch of programmed violin. It’s just one great final example of how the band continues to evolve and incorporate new sounds into their already robust array of instruments.

After making such oddball and unique music for so many years and surviving to the point where they’re even doing relatively well these days, Deerhoof flex their muscles and show no signs of slowing down or holding back on “Deerhoof vs. Evil”. Their continued dedication towards changing things up While still satisfying long-time fans is admirable and highly interesting. To say that the band has stepped away from or at least reduced some of their most avant-garde tendencies isn’t really correct, mostly because no two of their records sound that much alike in the first place. Then again, such a perspective is all relative to the depth of knowledge you have of Deerhoof’s catalogue as well as your tolerance of off-key and experimental music. Most accurately, it could be said that “Deerhoof vs. Evil” does a great job at merging some of the band’s oldest and newest influences into something of a non-greatest hits album that also pushes in new directions. The 70s influence that permeates a handful of tracks on the record isn’t something they’ve really tried in earnest before, and it leads towards a fuller, more cinematic sound in many cases – particularly when compared with their last album “Offend Maggie”. The more liberal use of electronic and digital noises reaches a little farther back in their catalogue too. Much of it is thanks to guitarist and multi-instrumentalist Ed Rodriguez, who joined the band in time for their last record but wasn’t quite used to the best of his abilities. Well, the more time you spend with a person the more you learn about what their capable of, which is why Rodriguez’s presence is much more beneficial than it was two years ago. The band is better balanced and whipsmart as ever, even as they move into darker territory by occasionally implying that sometimes in order to properly fight evil, you need to get a little evil yourself. Those are the methods that comic book superheroes such as The Green Hornet and Batman have used to great success, and in a case of real-life art imitating fictional art, Deerhoof does the same with similar results.

Buy “Deerhoof vs. Evil” from Amazon

Album Review: Iron & Wine – Kiss Each Other Clean [Warner Bros/4AD]

Buy “Kiss Each Other Clean” from Amazon

On 01/21/2011

In album review, BNM, music

When the name Iron & Wine comes up, your first thought should be to Sam Beam. That is to say, the visual picture in your head should go there, not necessarily your sonic memory. Evoking said sonic memory though, your first inclination upon thinking of Iron & Wine may be to recall lush and hushed acoustic folk songs with rich pastoral lyrics that are really worth getting excited about, if only they didn’t make you so sleepy. Yeah, the first two Iron & Wine records, “The Creek Drank the Cradle” and “Our Endless Numbered Days” specialized in such gorgeous minimalism, and that’s largely what helped us to fall in love with Sam Beam, the man who pretty much did it all by himself. Well, on 2007’s “The Shepherd’s Dog”, Iron & Wine became a full-fledged band with auxiliary players. The resulting record was pretty much the exact step forwards that was needed to ensure the life of the band. The much wider array of instruments used really fleshed out what was essentially just a guy and his acoustic guitar into something more vibrant, intricate and gorgeous than most anyone thought possible. Well, now Beam and his cohorts are back at it again for the fourth Iron & Wine full-length, “Kiss Each Other Clean”. This, as the band moves from the indie excellence that is Sub Pop Records and onto the much huger Warner Bros. Records. Would signing to a major label turn the band into much more radio-friendly rock stars? If you think that’s the case, then you don’t know Sam Beam.

There are two big things about “Kiss Each Other Clean” that attract attention almost immediately. The first are Sam Beam’s vocals. Ever so slowly from album to album, Beam has gone from a whisper to a full-bodied singer. His vocals were still mostly hushed on “The Shepherd’s Dog”, but on the new record he sounds like a normal person with strong vocal range. Whether it’s a matter of finding the confidence in his vocal abilities or simply the opportunity to try something different, it’s a welcome change that proves he doesn’t need to resist belting it out to sound distinctive. Speaking of distinctive, amidst the massive array of instruments that appear all over this album are even more impressive than they were last time around, the most notable this time being the saxophone. Whenever it pops up, on tracks such as “Me and Lazarus” and “Big Burned Hand”, it dominates and creates an interesting dynamic that Iron & Wine haven’t really done before.

The band also takes aim at 70s AOR on “Kiss Each Other Clean”, something they’ve never tried before. Between the wah-wah guitar that makes an appearance on a track like “Rabbit Will Run” and the spiky Stevie Wonder-esque organ that permeates “Monkeys Uptown”, they’ve got the sound nailed down pretty good, with just a touch of modernity thrown in so you don’t get too time-disoriented. But you also get moments such as album closer “Your Fake Name Is Good Enough For Me”, which spends the first few minutes sounding like the soundtrack to a lost 70s cop show about two mismatched partners that are tough on crime yet always break the rules and get in trouble with the chief. “Big Burned Hand” sounds straight out of a classic porn made in the era of “Deep Throat”, with maybe a little too much funk for its own good. Opening track “Walking Far From Home” flirts a little bit with gospel, while “Half Moon” shows its country-tinged roots. And for fans of Iron & Wine’s early material, “Godless Brother In Love” is one of the most gorgeous ballads the band has ever created, mixing piano with acoustic guitar and some seriously great vocal harmonies. Those sorts of beautiful harmonies are actually all over the record, either in tandem with Beam’s lead vocal to give it an extra bump, or more separately as backing “oohs”, “aahs” and “whoaas”.

The influences and instruments may have changed a bit in Iron & Wine’s sound, but there are a couple things you can always count on from Sam Beam and Company. Lyrically, Beam’s storytelling is as vivid as its ever been, and his wordplay is second to none. Despite his claims of being an agnostic, Beam also makes a number of Christian and Biblical references on this record, from the titular Lazarus in “Me and Lazarus” to a more general line-by-line bit like taking a “call from the Lord”. Of course his tales of nature and natural things has not been toned down in the least, nor the life lessons learned by characters both good and bad but always reaching some shade of grey. For example, on a song like the remarkably catchy first single “Tree By the River”, the lines “I mean the world/to a potty-mouthed girl/and a pretty pair of blue-eyed birds/’Time isn’t kind or unkind,’/you liked to say” are nothing short of wonderful. No matter what you listen to Iron & Wine for, the band is firing on all cylinders on “Kiss Each Other Clean”. It’s just the sort of forward progress needed to help sustain the group’s lifespan, though few have done quite this well. Fans of the sparse acoustic folk of the first two Iron & Wine records will surely be disappointed by the new album, but for everyone else, this marks yet another great addition to an already great catalogue.

Album Review: Smith Westerns – Dye It Blonde [Fat Possum]

On 01/19/2011

Buy “Dye It Blonde” from Amazon

When Smith Westerns burst into a gigantic wave of hype back in 2009, they were just a group of goofy teenagers that kept getting in trouble for sneaking beers at shows when they were underage. Well, that was part of it. They also were very much an “of the time” band, showing up with immense hooks amid an extremely lo-fi sound that was the rage what seems like nearly a lifetime ago. They had faint echoes of 60s pop and in particular The Beatles, though a much scruffier and beat-to-hell version of them. It was rather impressive, the chops of guys so young. Upon signing with Fat Possum not too long ago they were handed an actual recording budget for their sophmore album, which meant more freedom and the chance to actually walk away with a record that didn’t sound like it was slapped together with a microphone inside a bedroom closet. That second record is out this week, is titled “Dye It Blonde”, and winds up improving more than just the muddled sonic quality of their debut.

Kids grow up so fast, blink and suddenly they’re full-blown adults. The guys in Smith Westerns are still young by most standards, and the music they make still has that same youthful energy to it, but the way it’s put together on “Dye It Blonde” shows a certain maturity and smarts well beyond what we’ve heard from them previously. The melodies are clearer, the guitars crisper, the hooks sharper and the whole thing just feels fun-er (note: fully aware this is not a real word, used as a malapropism my friends). Opening track “Weekend” is anchored in by a fuzz-strewn guitar wobbly guitar riff that’s interesting and exciting in and of itself. It also pairs itself quite well with the lyrics, which are upbeat and drenched in the throes of passion and possibility over what girls and entertainment might be waiting in the open days ahead. “Still New” is another love song, but is best for how it’s instrumentally textured. The lightly strummed guitar that takes up much of the song is pleasant, but is practically dominated by a hard-edged bass line. When the chorus strikes though, a loud, high-pitched electric guitar wails in and mows down everything in its path. It’s what you’ll remember about the song, because it’s there and gone and back again just like a great hook should be. And after releasing it as a standalone single last year, there’s a fresher, more sped up version “Imagine, Pt. 3” that pops up like an old friend you haven’t heard from in awhile but you’re left wondering exactly why you let it go so long.

As far as ballads go, you can’t do much better than “All Die Young”. Starting with some organ and developing into a psychedelic torch song, the guitars build and swirl slowly at first before the chorus finally arrives after a couple minutes and picks up the pace to head bobbing status. It’s the strong repetition of the song’s title ad nauseum through the end that solidifies its staying power even as you move on to other catchy cuts. Tracks like “Fallen In Love” and “End of the Night” are satisfying mid-tempo rock songs that once again hold down the already familiar territory of love, but they do so with such upbeat tendencies that they’re wholly enjoyable no matter if they are a slight bit cliched. And for fans of the high energy, goofier side of the band, “Dance Away” is a late album home run that’s there primarily to show they’re not going out gently but instead with plenty of fanfare.

With their first album reaching back towards a lot of 60s British Invasion/Beatles-type influences, Smith Westerns have said their aim with “Dye It Blonde” was to evoke a lot of the great 90s British rock bands such as Oasis and Blur. The funny thing is that though the sound is essentially updated, a band like Oasis originally started in the hopes of emulating the Beatles’ sound. That was true when Oasis began and it was true still on their last album. And while Oasis never really picked up that Beatles mantle, Smith Westerns are able to pick up Oasis’ sound with relative ease. The key difference though (outside of heritage), is the way that Smith Westerns put their songs together. They retain the bombast and explosiveness of those 90s British bands, but the guitars buzz a certain unique way and the equal footing an instrument like the organ gets much of the time is interesting in and of itself. There’s a number of times on “Dye It Blonde” where it feels like there’s so much noise because all the various instruments are competing for your attention at the same audio level that you’re nearly overwhelmed. Instead of steamrolling over you though, it plays with you like a tiger would a large rubber ball. It’s just another one of the more unexpected twists this band brings to their sophmore record that thrills and innovates relative to what they did last time. The best part is that once it’s all over you’re left wondering where it is they can go and what it is they will try next. When you’re a band as young and nubile as the Smith Westerns are, the world is your oyster. On “Dye It Blonde”, they make sure to take as much as they can grab.

Smith Westerns – Weekend

Smith Westerns – “All Die Young”

Album Review: Tennis – Cape Dory [Fat Possum]

Tennis – Seafarer
Tennis – Baltimore (7″ version)

On 01/18/2011

In album review, BNM, mp3, music

Every band or artist has a story about how things came together and began to make music in earnest. Oftentimes those stories are boring, or at the very least have a lot of the same elements to them. The group of guys that met in high school or college. The band whose members all live in the same neighborhood and it’s a proximity thing. There’s also the couples, two people dating or married that decide to make beautiful music together. Mates of State, Handsome Furs and Beach House are all fair examples of pretty good “relationship duos”. The White Stripes are really interesting because while they’re a duo, they’re also divorced. Sometimes the bond of music really can be stronger than love. The one pairing you’ll want to be paying close attention to in 2011 is that of Patrick Riley and Alaina Moore. They call themselves Tennis, and have a surprisingly interesting formation story. Both had spent time making music with various bands, none of which attracted much of any attention. Despite their backgrounds, music was the last thing on their minds when Riley and Moore met in college, began dating and eventually married. She didn’t realize that he played the guitar and he didn’t realize she could sing. All they really wanted to do was take an adventure. After severely sacrificing and saving as much money as they could over the course of a few years, the couple had enough to buy a boat. With said boat they made the decision to take a two-year journey down the Atlantic coastline. They joked around for a bit during their voyage about starting a band, but didn’t begin to take it seriously until one night at a bar in Florida. They heard the Shirelles song “Baby It’s You”, and Riley said that if he was ever in a band again, he’d want it to sound exactly like that. From that point forward, they worked out all the details, including the exact instruments and recording equipment they wanted to use. The two-year trip was cut short at eight months, taken off course so they could focus their time and efforts on Tennis. Their original idea was to write songs about the trip as a way to remember those fun times, but it was also therapeutic after they left said trip unfinished. After a couple songs made their way online, the hype for the duo accelerated very quickly. Two seven-inch singles released on Firetalk and Underwater Peoples Records last summer only built up the band’s reuptation further, and they played their first-ever live shows around that time as well. This past fall they signed with Fat Possum for their debut full-length “Cape Dory”, which is out now.

What’s attracted so many people to Tennis, and why even more will come on board once they hear “Cape Dory”, are the sunny pop melodies and winning hooks that emerge at every turn. They’re constantly compared to Best Coast and Surfer Blood for that exact reason, and apt though it may be, they’re a bit more than that. Given that a Shirelles song was the inspiration for them to start the band in the first place, Tennis’ sound has a very 1950s-60s girl group vibe to it, but with a small modern twist. Pay close attention to Patrick Riley’s guitar work and you may catch some chord progression similar to artists like The Everly Brothers, Buddy Holly or Chuck Berry. At times there are also very obvious surf rock vibes being thrown around, all part of holding down a very relaxed, summery vibe. Bits of organ have their place in a majority of the songs as well, and with that added shimmer you might be reminded of a sped up, catchier version of Beach House. What really helps sink that in are Alaina Moore’s vocals, which come across as both classic and overtly dramatic. Thanks to overdubs and harmonies, there are many points where Moore sounds like her own girl group and it’s all very lush and lovely. If there’s a complaint to be had regarding her vocals, it’s that the emotion doesn’t always project through her voice. Too often she sounds like a friend telling you an amazing story that happened to her instead of placing you inside the experience herself. In other words, she’s telling of all these places and adventures she’s been on while sailing, when the best and most satisfying way of hearing about them is to simply go see for yourself. Some singers have the emotional resonance to put you there, and others do not. With Moore at the vocal helm, she comes very close but doesn’t quite reach that sweet spot. You’re not taken to the beach, but are instead shown a photo of a beach and wish you could go. Perhaps what’s coming through then in Moore’s singing is that longing for the sea once again. Their two-year trip was cut dramatically short, and she’s stuck at a crossroads between the adventure that was and the adventure that could have been.

Should you have collected all the Tennis tracks from their two 7″ singles last year, you’ve already heard five of “Cape Dory”‘s ten songs. The great news is that those five songs are all great and very addictive and re-recorded with much higher fidelity than before. The initial plan was to record the songs on some beat-up tape to both dirty the songs up a bit and give them that much more of a vintage feel. Whether it was being given an actual recording budget or at the request of the label or some other reason altogether, everything on the album is crisper and clearer with just a tiny touch of fuzz – and is much better for it. You can now understand all the lyrics, the harmonies are just a little more prominent, the guitars ripple just a little bit more, and the hooks are just a little bit sharper. That said, those five previously released songs (“South Carolina”, “Marathon”, “Cape Dory”, “Bimini Bay” and “Baltimore”) remain the five best songs in Tennis’ catalogue so far. They don’t do any better with the five new cuts, but also don’t do any worse. “Take Me Somewhere” is a delightful way to start the record, all fun, excitement and anticipation for what’s looking to be a grand trip on a sailboat. The jangly guitar, surf rock drums and lightly shimmering 60s organ pick up the pace after the first verse, just after Moore sings, “make fast the lines, please don’t waste any time/oh i feel the wind blowing”. It’s almost as if that first 1:15 is a sailboat picking up anchor from the dock and creeping towards open sea when a huge gust of wind hits at just the right moment to let you know the trip has officially begun. Things hit a small standstill when “Long Boat Pass” shows up next, but it’s a storyline thing and not a pace thing. Our couple on this trip have spent some time at Longboat Pass in Florida, and as much fun as they’ve had there, she wants to keep going while he wants to stay longer. “Please let me through, we must return to sea”, she pleads near the very end of the song. Along the way there’s a toe-tapping melody that begins with some arpeggio guitar that eventually develops out into chords of the same thing, much like waves slowly getting bigger and bigger on the beach as the tide rolls in. So despite the not-exactly-cheery lyrics, the song itself is a delight, settling into such a groove that a legitimate chorus and hook aren’t even necessary to keep us interested in what’s going on. Moore’s vocals sound absolutely classic on the track too, more 1950s sugary sweet than most anything else on the album. Similar things could be said about how she handles “Pigeon”, a swaying ballad about devotion to your partner. “I Will be there, I promise to take good care of you”, Moore sings over a pulsating organ and sparsely plucked guitar. The urgency with whic she sings it and keeps repeating it, you can’t help but believe her. “Seafarer” is the first single from “Cape Dory”, and it’s an upbeat pop song with some seriously old school guitar chords and drum fills that only make it more compelling. The hook is what sells it though, along with those “oh ohs”. And as an album closer, “Waterbirds” serves its purpose perfectly, maintaining a relatively slow and quiet pace for the first minute and a half before surging to a loud and thrilling finish unlike anything else on the album. Moore spends the entire time reminiscing about all the wonderful little things she misses about their boat trip, including “sleeping deep in the brush” and “the insects chirping underneath the leaves”. She still dreams about it today, soaring in the chorus with, “Did we ever really leave?/This is all that we need”. Clearly the band has learned two things from their eight-month trek down the Atlantic coastline: 1) Home is where the heart is and 2) Memories last a lifetime.

Plenty of people will find “Cape Dory” to be a very “cutesy” and overly sweet record. That’s one way of looking at it, though it may be a bit superficial. The way these songs are constructed, built largely on classic-style melodies and vocals with just a hint of modern influence, says a lot more about the band than their back story does. Yes, how the album came into existence and what the lyrics are based on is important, but style holds court over substance in this case because Tennis might not have gotten our attention otherwise. FOr the most part, 2010 brought forth a whole lot of buzz bands that worked on the same sort of summer fun/beach, surf and sand-type levels, but in slightly different ways. We’re talking Best Coast, Magic Kids, Surfer Blood, Wavves and The Morning Benders all reaping the benefit of such a trend. Now Tennis are taking those same elements and making them over with a 50s girl group twist that satisfies as well if not better than the aforementioned artists. Every song on “Cape Dory” is nothing short of wonderful, and at only 30 minutes long the album is really easy to play over and over and over again. Spending eight months cruising around on a boat and visiting random places sounds like a lot of fun (unless you’re the seasick type), and in turn the record they made to help remember it brings to us a lot of those good times. I wonder if they have enough material for a follow-up.

Buy “Cape Dory” from Amazon

Album Review: Tapes ‘n Tapes – Outside [Ibid]

On 01/12/2011

Tapes ‘n Tapes – Freak Out

Poor Tapes ‘n Tapes. They are certainly victims of the blogosphere. Without a doubt, hype these days is incredibly fickle. Bands come and go like a stiff breeze, and if you don’t put out a well-respected record in a timely fashion, you’re headed for the Land of Lost Bands. After a critically savaged sophmore sophmore album back in 2008 titled “Walk It Off”, it was the respect and love of many a fan that actually walked off instead. This was a far cry from the huge buzz they had going back in 2005-6, where their debut record “The Loon” earned them rave reviews and a record deal with XL Recordings. After their fall from grace and the poor sales of that second album, the band ended their relationship with XL (some say they were dropped by the label, others say the band waited until their contract expired). Whatever it was, Tapes ‘n Tapes were looking to re-focus their efforts for a third album and win back all those lost fans. Now completely on their own label and free to do whatever they please, they’re re-approaching the music industry from the fringe, which may be a big reason why they’ve called their new record “Outside”.

Under what guise does one get away with titling a song “Badaboom”? Is it intended to be a mafia reference, or perhaps a “Fifth Element” reference? Neither? Whatever the logic, with a title like that, the song had best be explosive. It’s what leads off “Outside”, and it’s got a propulsive, fun vibe to it. If Vampire Weekend were a little heavier on the guitars and stripped back their Afropop leanings a bit, it’d sound a whole lot like this song. The hook may not be incredibly strong, but one of the best things “Badaboom” has going for it is the rather interesting guitar breakdown at the end of the song. It feels a lot like old school Tapes ‘n Tapes, and that’s a good thing. “SWM” is a fluffier keyboard pop song paired with a jingle-jangle guitar that’s pleasant enough. The issue is that the song builds what amounts to tension, as if it’s ready to explode at any given moment, but then never offers a release. It comes oh so close at the very end but then peters out instead. “One in the World” succeeds at bringing a tropical vacation vibe to the record, but once again holds strong echoes to Vampire Weekend without quite reaching that band’s craftsmanship and smarts.

So after a halfway decent start with the first three songs on the record, Tapes ‘n Tapes suddenly get pretty vanilla. “Nightfall” drags along the ground with its blandness, spiced up only by some horns that are criminally underused. “Desert Plane” kind of picks a course and stays on it without much instrumental variation or a hook that’s anywhere close to memorable. And I’m thinking the band chose the title of the song “Outro” based solely on how strong that is compared to everything else in the track. Not much happens when it starts, but then it builds to this fiery guitar solo that deserves to surrounded by something more compelling to make it seem earned. So what it does is blatantly point out how mediocre the rest of the track is.

On a quest for a very strong song, it delivers in the form of “Freak Out”, the record’s first single and what actually renewed a lot of interest in the band. It’s legitimately catchy and fun, energetic and wry, with a brief guitar solo that unlike the track before it is actually earned. “The Saddest of All Keys” is a dark nightmare of a song in the best way possible. Josh Grier’s vocal performance is rough and dirty like old school Tapes, and there’s a distinct blues vibe to the track with the guitars and swirling organ that’s impressive. It feels like a different angle on a Black Keys song, which feels so right even if it’s not. Should you want to hear what Tapes ‘n Tapes would sound like attempting a Walkmen song, fear not, for “Hidee Ho” is about as close as you’ll get. The sparse electric guitar work mixed with Grier’s world-weary vocal performance practically screams imitation, save for the rippingly great guitar work that populates the second half of the song. There’s a very 1950’s vibe skating around “People You Know”, a wholly inoffensive ballad perfect for a high school sock hop where girls in floral dresses and guys with their hair parted carefully to one side can have an innocent dance with their hands on each others hips. Such a goodie-goodie, prim and proper era. As such it was also boring, much like the song winds up being. “On and On” feels like it goes…on and on, at least until the very end, at which there’s an ocean of white noise that’s positively delightful compared to what came before it. Another song where the ending fares so much better than the beginning. Translated, it’s half of a good song. Thank goodness the band ends with a 100% strong song in the form of “Mighty Long”. It’s exactly the sort of tune that made their debut “The Loon” such a compelling listen – an upbeat, jangly guitar tempo with a hook that actually grabs you and won’t let go. It’s songs such as this that make you want to give the band another chance to win you over despite having done you wrong on a bunch of tracks that came before it.

Credit goes to Tapes ‘n Tapes for a couple things. First, deciding to “return to their roots” by self-releasing “Outside”. They earned their initial shot at the big label leagues by hard work and earnestness, and appear to want to reclaim that crown by doing the same thing again. It takes courage to go down that road, so nice going gentlemen. Secondly, the band seems to know what they did wrong on “Walk It Off” and are working on a course correction. They are smarter than ever and are more attuned to what their fans are looking for from them. That being said, Tapes n’ Tapes are also in the midst of an identity crisis. A few of the songs on “Outside” seem to have been intended to recall “The Loon”, while others push in different directions as explorations of new options. Most of the time, the band comes off sounding like cheap imitations of better-known and more popular indie bands. Variety may be the spice of life, but you’d hope they’d come up with something better in terms of expanding their sound. And finally, what this band could really use is a chill pill. No, most of the songs aren’t angry, but rather come across as a band that’s simply trying way too hard. The record doesn’t smell of desperation, rather it lacks legitimate fun. Manufactured fun, or at least attempts at fun are present, just not believable. Part of what made “The Loon” such a great record was how openly loose and relaxed it was, like the band was making music just for shits and giggles. “Outside” is the product of a band doing a careful study of what worked for them, then strategically trying to recreate that with a small touch of forward momentum. It’s like returning as an adult to a place you have fond memories of as a kid, and realizing that maybe things weren’t as good as you remember. Maybe the lake you used to swim in every summer is now so polluted most creatures can’t live in it, let alone swim in it. Whatever it is, some of that magic is now gone, and the harder you try to get it back, the more you fail at it. “Outside” proves that they’ve lost some of their old magic, but like any redemption story, all is not lost. If they’re able to figure out the exact key to what made their debut so compelling, there’s still the possibility they can rise from the ashes and surprise us once again. It’s a near impossible feat, but everyone loves a good underdog story. Best of luck to you in the future, fellas.

Buy “Outside” from Amazon

Album Review: The Decemberists – The King Is Dead [Capitol]

On 01/11/2011

Stream the entire album at NPR (limited time only)

One has to wonder – did somebody tell The Decemberists that they’d gone off the deep end, or was it a conclusion they reached themselves? Their last album was 2008’s “The Hazards of Love”, and it was a long-form rock opera filled to the brim with shape-shifting characters and a plotline so confusing that frontman Colin Meloy seemed to have a tough time explaining it. Even the record before that, “The Crane Wife”, was largely a storytelling affair taken from an old Japanese folk tale surrounding a crane that turns into a woman. If, upon reading this, it all sounds quite preposterous, that’s because it is. That, and epically pretentious when placed amid Meloy’s florid and ten-dollar-word lyrics. Despite this, the music continued to be decent, if not somewhat excellent, which in turn is probably what saved the band from becoming outcasts by much of their highly loyal fan base. What built that fan base in the first place almost exclusively came from the band’s first three records, which largely consisted of sharply written and concise but instrumentally dense pop songs. There were characters even back then, tales of chimney sweeps, gymnasts, ballerinas, thieves and sailors, but they were all confined to their own songs rather than an entire album. So whether or not there was an intervention or perhaps even some pressure from their record label, The Decemberists are back with a new record, and this time they’re going old school. The band took in a steady diet of R.E.M., moved onto a farm, and brought in legendary singer-songwriter-pinup Gillian Welch for an assist. Oh yeah, and R.E.M.’s own Peter Buck dropped by to provide some additional inspiration as well. The final product is “The King Is Dead”, out next week and showcasing a leaner, cleaner and outright different version of The Decemberists than we’ve seen in quite some time.

The very first thing you hear on “Don’t Carry It All”, the opening track on “The King Is Dead”, is a harmonica. To my knowledge, The Decemberists have never used harmonica before, and it throws you off balance almost immediately. That plus an acoustic guitar and it’s like a quick trip back to Neil Young’s “Harvest” days. The gently sawing fiddles and some vocal harmonies push an alt-country/Americana vibe that much more, but yes, with Peter Buck playing on the song there’s a little bit of R.E.M. sound in there too. Buck’s acoustic guitar work is a whole lot more distinctive on “Calamity Song”, a track that would be perfectly at home on a record like “Fables of the Reconstruction” were you to hand over the vocals to Michael Stipe. To put it another way, The Decemberists sounding like classic R.E.M. is by no means a bad thing. Some piano, more acoustic guitar/harmonica and the country staple slide guitar pop up for the ballad “Rise to Me”, which is eerily reminiscent of late 60s/early 70s material from The Band. By this point, it’s pretty obvious that not only have The Decemberists vastly changed their style from their last two albums, but have also provided a healthy variation on their earliest, more poppy fare. Granted, a nearly solo acoustic ballad such as “January Hymn” comes across like a less wordy version of “Red Right Ankle”, but the distinctly Americana angle at which the band is approaching their new material is surprisingly refreshing. Peter Buck makes one last appearance on first single “Down By the Water”, which bears a sonic resemblance in many respects to R.E.M.’s “The One I Love”, albeit with a lot more harmonica and strong backing vocals courtesy of Gillian Welch. Speaking of Welch though, she does backing vocals on seven of the album’s ten tracks and in turn provides her own interesting twist to everything she touches. Case in point, “All Arise!” definitely sounds more like a Welch song than a Decemberists song as the fiddles, banjos and Old West-style piano sound like they’d be right at home amid a barndance. “This Is Why We Fight” is probably the closest the band comes to sounding like their old selves, in a good way. Chris Funk is back tearing up the electric guitar, and there’s a certain brash, almost anthemic feel to the song; an energized call to arms that was missing up until that point. It only figures then that the album ends on the very next track, “Dear Avery”. Thankfully it continues the long-standing Decemberists tradition of ending strong, in this case with a gorgeous acoustic ballad that holds strong ties to Fleetwood Mac. Just the acoustic guitar and organ would have been good enough to call the track a success, and you could take or leave the slide guitar, but it’s the rich harmonies that go even further beyond just Welch’s voice that bring out the song’s best qualities. It comes across like a fitting coda to a record that seems to hold surprises at each and every turn.

There are some issues with “The King Is Dead”. First and foremost among them is Colin Meloy’s dumbed-down wordplay. It’s annoying when he uses too many words that require a dictionary to understand, but that’s also part of what makes his writing so distinctive. If he can keep the challenging vocabulary to a happy medium level where he doesn’t go overboard with it, more power to him. Meloy still throws out a few magniloquent words when he’s feeling up to it, as “loam” and “conjure” and “culverts”, but ultimately there’s a paucity of them. Saying “On a winter Sunday, I go/to clear away the snow/and green the ground below” is pleasant but seems like anybody could have written it. On the plus side though, that provides more of an opportunity to focus more on how the songs are arranged and also calls to attention Meloy’s vocal performance, which is stronger than ever, perhaps to prove his mettle in face-offs versus Gillian Welch. On the instrumental side, the alt-country/Americana genre has been around for a long time now, and similar to the lyrics it’s tough to make an impact unless your songs are really special. The Decemberists prove they’re up for such a challenge with this record, but just barely miss their ultimate goal. To put it another way, such a valiant effort makes “The King Is Dead” a very, very good album that wants to be great. Still, it’s a huge step back upwards and forwards for the band, both reviving the strength and good will they earned on their pre-“Crane Wife” albums while also trying to expand their sound to new areas. It may not be the best thing they’ve ever done, but it’s close. At this point, close equals highly satisfying. More than anything though, it just feels great to have The Decemberists back on the right track, whatever track that might be.

Preorder “The King Is Dead” from Amazon

Album Review: Braids – Native Speaker [Kanine]

On 01/10/2011

Preorder “Native Speaker” from Amazon

By oh so many indications, 2011 is set to be the year that post-rock finally strikes it big. There is no official explanation as to why, save for saying that the sound is simply evolving and other elements are being incorporated into the more traditional post-rock sound. Of course post-rock in and of itself is a hazy term, loose on purpose to be a catch-all for stuff that sticks out like a sore thumb when placed against a standard 3.5 minute pop song. As such it’s experimental and more often than not immensely beautiful no matter if a band is using four electric guitars or a whole orchestra to get a point across. There’s also a solid rejection of verse-chorus-verse structuring, catchy hooks, and short, to-the-point statements. Post-rock is an adventure, a journey into the vast and unknown wilderness where discovery is half the fun. It is the realm of Sigur Ros and Explosions in the Sky and Godspeed You! Black Emperor, along with Mogwai and Tortoise and Pelican. Thanks to a band like Braids and their debut record “Native Speaker” though, a musical genre that has reached something of a standard way of going about things gets reinvigorated with a few curveballs.

When reaching for their comparison chart, there’s probably higher than a 50% chance most people will try to define Braids as supremely indebted to Animal Collective. “They’re like Animal Collective, only if they came from Montreal,” somebody will say or write. While there are some similarities between the two groups, such as the somewhat liberal use of gurgling electronics and an overall natural flow to the song arrangements, there are far more differences worth paying close attention to. Braids doesn’t have much in the way of filtered/warped vocals (outside of the occasional echo effect) or harmonies. You can also understand and make sense of what singers Raphaelle Standell-Preston and Kathie Lee are singing. To put it another way, the vocals are “decipherable and intelligible”. They’re also not nearly part of the hippy-trippy freak-folk movement, because while a number of their songs are in the 6-8 minute range, there’s not a singular moment that feels over-extended or jam band-y. Think less psychedelic and more of a shoegaze-inspired pop thanks to creative arrangements and not a whole lot in the way of instrumental passages (save for the last track on the record). Of course that description doesn’t even suffice for this band, as they are notoriously hard to pin down into any one sound for too long. That’s largely why it’s easiest to put the band underneath the larger umbrella known as post-rock. Despite the apparant variations in styles from one song to the next, there are so many elements that hold steady across the record that everything comes off as striking and organic and exciting. Fuck genre tropes, Braids are content to carve their own path through this wilderness landscape.

“Native Speaker” begins with the first single and much-hyped track “Lemonade”, and it’s one hell of an introduction to Braids. While the sound of a babbling brook or creek may be confined to the opening track alone, it’s largely a statement for the entire record. The music softly and beautifully moves along, twisting and turning and moving around rocks or whatever else might be in the way. Somewhere in the distance a bird chirps, frogs jump around for fun, and occasionally a deer will come by for a drink. It takes over two minutes for “Lemonade” to reach a chorus, but that’s of little consequence since that time was so well spent building layer upon layer as keyboards pile on electronic elements pile on booming drums and finally guitars. Standell-Preston’s vocals hold a calm demeanor when they first come in, but that gets thrown pretty much to hell once she raises her voice to ask, “Have you fucked/all the stray kids yet?”. When the chorus does finally land, it’s a scorned scorcher, as the lines, “what I’ve found/is that we/are all just sleeping around” soar like they were launched off a mountaintop. The immediate lesson, and one that’s equally learned by most every track on the album, is that you don’t fuck with Raphaelle Standell-Preston in both vocal strength/range and personally as well. At seconds under 4.5 minutes, “Plath Heart” is the shortest song on “Native Speaker”, and it’s a synth-fueled dreamscape with an almost Dirty Projectors-esque bent to it. The vocals are practically cutesy and playful and a keyboard-created steel drum pushes that vibe further, but the lyrics betray that with a little bit of anti-relationship sentiment. That’s where the title really comes into play, because if you know how dark and depressing Sylvia Plath’s writing is, you know that a Plath heart isn’t something worth smiling about. A lovely lullaby is how the 8+ minute “Glass Deers” begins, with the keyboards lightly plinking as if singing you to sleep. The vocals play along too, even when Standell-Preston repeats over and over again about how she’s “fucked up”. Eventually though, while the melody remains on a lovely even keel, the vocals soar to an extreme as Standell-Preston begins to yell at the impressive level of Bjork or Karen O. That quiet-loud-quiet-loud singing trend continues for the duration while the lyrics are a bit more upbeat about loving someone even with all their faults. The atmospherics continue with the title track, in which the main part of the melody are a couple of quiet keyboards and a looped electronic bit that simply float in the ether. Not content to just let it sit there though, guitars and random noises begin to permeate the mix, piling on top of one another the way that great post-rock songs do. Harmonies are introduced, the vocals soar yet again, and then in a flash, all is quiet once more before the track goes gentle into that good night after 8.5 minutes of writhing around.

Have you ever been in an apartment or hotel room when a very loud rave is happening right next door? You can hear a muffled version of the beats through the wall and they totally keep you up as you’re trying to sleep. “Lammicken” exploits that sort of noise as the backing melody, along with a looped and melodic “ohhhhaaahhhohhhh”, both of which are the only two constant things about the track. “I can’t stop it,” Standell-Preston sings over and over again with varying degrees of forcefulness. Through it all, white electro-static builds and builds up in the mix, and as already mentioned, there’s no way to stop it. It overtakes everything else near the end of the song, before finally abruptly quitting in the last 30 seconds as the original backing melody plays the track out in a much more ominous fashion than before. A series of synths layered on top of one another mixed with some drum rim hits is how “Same Mum” begins, and once the playful vocals come in it becomes one of Braids’ poppiest and most immediate songs despite lacking a legitimate chorus. Some lightly picked Grizzly Bear-like guitar comes in about mid-way through the track, shortly before a 2 minute instrumental breakdown that also has some xylophone making an appearance. The final 90 seconds brings a slow down in tempo as the guitars disappear and vocals return with Standell-Preston providing interesting variations on the phrase, “We are from the same mum”. That’s the last thing she says on the entire record as we’re then led into the instrumental closer “Little Hand”. Beginning as a spacey, pulsating deep synth, keyboards begin to plink out a jaunty little melody that’s practically the sonic equivalent of twinkling stars. Carefully picked guitars weave themselves in and out of the mix as there’s just a hint of Sigur Ros-like atmosphere, even if there is no build to a huge crescendo. Instead, the melody slowly fades away as gently and calmly as things began.

What makes Braids so interesting is their ability to sustain a melody no matter how long or short a track might be. Their five minute songs are just as great as their eight minute ones because they all feel like they’re going somewhere. Even if a track only has one line in it, repeated ad nauseum, it’s the WAY the line is sung, along with the sounds surrounding it that keep the listener fully engaged. As such, Raphaelle Standell-Preston deserves much of the credit for her powerful and highly expressive vocal performance that soars far above and beyond your average female singer. The rest of the band are by no mean slouches either though, as the tracks on “Native Speaker” end up being not so much songs but immense compositions that are complicated even when they sound remarkably simple. The only spots where the quality dips on the album is near the end. After establishing a moody intensity on the two 8+ minute epics in the middle of the album, attempts to rise back up again at a more brisk pace don’t ever fully succeed despite their best efforts. It never gets boring, it just all sort of blends together in one cohesive piece of slow burn, synth-filled post-rock that’s simply not as distinctive as everything that came before it. Despite this, “Native Speaker” is most definitely one of the best records that will be released this month, and Braids one of the best up-and-coming bands you’ll hear about in 2011. There was a pretty heavy load of hype surrounding the band heading into their debut, and the good news is that most of it is justified. There’s room for improvement, but when your first album is as good as this one, Braids might just be one record away from truly becoming a universally respected and beloved band. It’s almost ironic that they also just happen to be from Montreal.

Braids – Lemonade
Braids – Plath Heart (via Pitchfork)

Album Review: Cake – Showroom of Compassion [Upbeat Records]

On 01/06/2011

Preorder “Showroom of Compassion” from Amazon

Seventeen years. Six albums. That’s how long we’ve known Cake. It has been seven long years since their fifth effort “Pressure Chief” came out, and it feels like longer. They may have tried to keep fans satisfied with a couple EPs and a b-sides collection, but for the die hard fan, that stuff was just a poor substitute for new Cake material. Why they’ve kept us waiting this long seems to be a mystery, save for John McCrea’s pretentious explanation of the band trying to “detach from the subjective and move into the objective”. In simpler terms, it seems the guys were taking a long, hard look at their past records and where they were as a band, and then trying to unlearn the habits they had fallen into to try and obtain a new and different perspective. A few years off and away from making music probably helps in working towards that ultimate goal. The fruits of their efforts will be revealed next week in the form of “Showroom of Compassion”, an album that’s less a redefining of the band and more a wildly refreshed and forward-thinking version of them.

Have you heard “Showroom of Compassion”‘s first single “Sick of You” yet? You can stream it online or just turn on your local alternative rock radio station for awhile and hopefully they’ll play it. One listen to that track and you’re automatically re-introduced to Cake like they never left. It’s the sort of catchy and fun song that has made for some of the band’s best and most popular singles, though they probably haven’t had a song this good since the 90s. To all the young kids that haven’t heard albums like “Fashion Nugget” or “Motorcade of Generosity”, this is the sort of greatness you’ve been missing. For those of us that grew up knowing and loving Cake, here’s a singular reason to love Cake again. In terms of defining Cake’s sound, “Sick of You” is a perfect example, and a great testament to why they haven’t needed to change their game plan in 17 years. McCrea does his talk-sing vocals, gets all snarky about relationships, the electric guitar has just the right amount of fuzz on it as it rambles up and down octaves, the horn plays around a little, and all the other guys in the band do their trademark spoken-word backing shouts. Quintessential Cake, but interestingly enough, it’s one of the only moments on the record that is.

“Showroom of Compassion” opener “Federal Funding” gets the record off to an innocuous start, putting a hotly psychedelic spin on your traditional Cake model as the guitar swirl, the drums hint at Ringo Starr on “Tomorrow Never Knows”, and the horns play it cool and understated. The title of the song is not deceptive in the least, as McCrea bemoans government bailouts of absurdly rich executives and companies. On “Long Time”, McCrea stretches his seemingly limited singing voice to lengths he normally doesn’t go to, which is interesting to say the least. The buzzing, Mates of State-ish keyboard and vocal harmonies work quite well too, even if there is a very standard horn and bass solo mid-way through the track. If Cake were to ever make a full-on legitimate 60s AM pop song, it’d sound a whole lot like “What’s Now Is Now”, with a dense collection of instruments that include both electric and acoustic guitars along with some keyboard and mellotron. The vocal harmonies are highly impressive, and though the song is mid-tempo, it’s bright as all daylight, even incorporating some chirping birds towards the end. At the mid point of the album is “Teenage Pregnancy”, an instrumental that starts out as a slow piano ballad before taking a decidedly darker turn with some grimy guitar work, ominous horns and creepy circus keyboards. It’s most definitely one of the most interesting things on “Showroom of Compassion”. A song like “Easy to Crash” can appear to be an almost standard, Cake-on-autopilot track, but closer examination reveals a few subtle elements that take it beyond that level. The verses may not have much worth paying attention to, but keep a careful ear out for the sounds of cars driving down a highway. The power in this song really lies in two parts – the chorus, which is ridiculously well constructed and anthemic, and the bridge, which features a great Krautrock-inspired instrumental portion. It’s this care and deeper display of influences that’s pushing this band forwards even when they may not always sound like it. And hey, do you like alt-country? John McCrea has made note recently of how he’s grown fond of the genre, and “Bound Away”, the acoustic ballad dosed with slide guitar, is his tribute to it. Who knows what the reaction would be if they tried to do an entire country-tinged record, but as a singular moment on the new album, it’s kinda nice as just a general shake-up from everything else. If you’ve never heard a Cake song begin with piano and violins before, closing track “Italian Guy” has you covered. There’s even a touch of harpsichord (more likely keyboard imitation harpsichord) amid what’s otherwise a pretty sparsely arranged song and possibly the greatest example of today’s Cake vs. the pre-2011 Cake. There’s really not much more of a fitting way to end the record.

Perhaps taking seven years between albums was the best thing Cake has ever done. No, that doesn’t mean “Showroom of Compassion” is their best record, but it does come really damn close. What you really come away with courtesy of this new album is a renewed sense of what made this band so attractive in the first place. It’s a back to basics record but in a 2.0 form. They have rebuilt themselves. Better. Stronger. Faster than before. They’re showing much more range, both in the instruments they use and where John McCrea takes his vocals. They’re lightly dabbling with genre as well, but never to the point where the Cake essentials fully disappear. If you loved Cake before, there’s nothing here that will take that love away. If you’ve only kind of liked the band but thought they showed limited range, now’s the time to look again. And if you’ve always kind of despised Cake, well, you’ll still despise them. Mostly it’s just a pleasure to have them back again and in great form. Let’s hold out hope they stay that way.

Album Review: British Sea Power – Valhalla Dancehall [Rough Trade]

On 01/05/2011

British Sea Power – Who’s In Control
British Sea Power – Living Is So Easy

Let’s talk for a minute about Vikings. No, not the football team that hails from Minnesota, but rather the Nordic warriors of ancient times. They’re an important part of our world history, and a bit of a blemish on it too. See, the Vikings started the whole “rape and pillage” movement, which while popular at the time, isn’t the way we do things anymore for good reason. The other side of Vikings was the cool part, huge moustaches and beards, those cool hats with the horns on top, braids and furs as far as the eye can see. They also were big fans of the axe, and after plenty of pints of mead, fights would often break out and people would die. It was a way of life for those Vikings. Anyways, according to their mythology, should you die in combat, your spirit goes to Valhalla upon which it will be recruited for the ultimate “Battle to End All Battles”. It’s sort of an ancient “Battle Between Heaven and Hell” thing, further details of which I do not care to explain. The point in all this? British Sea Power have a new album coming out next week, and the title is “Valhalla Dancehall”. If you’re looking for perspective on where the band might be coming from, on this record, look no further than the title.

British Sea Power have never been a band that makes “small” music, but their relatively unknown status in America is amusing considering how massive their songs tend to get. They draw constant comparisons to U2, mostly in the size and scope of their vision and less for the ways in which they sound similar. And while stadiums are surely where their songs sound best, hardly anyone gets to hear them in such a venue. Officially, the last British Sea Power record was 2008’s “Man of Aran”, which was a soundtrack to a fictional documentary of the same name about life on the Aran Islands. That was a different sort of album than what they’ve done in the past, so it’s fair enough to say their other 2008 record “Do You Like Rock Music?” is their last normal-sounding release. Even then, normal-sounding isn’t quite the operative word for this band, because while they trade often on some huge songs, they’re also tricky in avoiding the easier descriptions that box them into a stylistic corner. In between all those stadium rockers have always been little oddities that will graze on light indie pop one minute and delve into dark experimental post-rock the next. Not much has changed on “Valhalla Dancehall”, except for maybe the continued years of making music and performing has them sounding just a little smarter and better than they did last time. Of course last time they also bent over backwards “going big” to the point where the songs were overblown beyond recognition. We’ll fondly remember how this little band burst onto the music scene in 2003 with “The Decline of British Sea Power” and one hell of a great single in the song “Blackout”, but those days have long since passed and they remain ostensibly a charicature of what they once were.

In the realm of gigantic rock songs, “Valhalla Dancehall” starts out with a doozy. “Who’s In Control” is a highly political anti-government anthem that seizes the zeitgeist of the times by actively protesting all the cuts being made to programs in Britain and the cost being handed down to the citizens. If you paid enough attention to the news in the last couple months, you may have seen loads of angry British students on the streets screaming about the increased cost of university tuition. Prince Charles and his wife Camilla had their vehicle attacked and pelted with rocks and other things when they drove through the crowds. With Scott Wilkinson’s scruffy and brash vocals, along with a more than healthy amount of cursing, “Who’s In Control” deserves to serve its function as a modern-day protest song. Somebody latch onto it, please. After such a rousing start to the record, British Sea Power try to go even BIGGER with “We Are Sound”, and quickly they head right back into the excessive and bland territory that got them in trouble last time around. A bit better is “Georgie Ray”, a piano ballad that strongly echoes 80s David Bowie. There’s a certain cheese factor to it, but the band doesn’t push it and so it turns out to be one of the better songs on the album. “Stunde Null” is another quick and dirty rock song with buzzsaw guitars and a very healthy tempo. The real problem it has is with the lyrics. The song title is repeated over and over and OVER again to the point of ad nauseum, probably in the hope you’ll get it stuck in your head. It succeeds, but does so while annoying. If you heard the band’s “Zeus” EP last year, you got a preview of a couple “Valhalla Dancehall” tracks in the form of “Mongk” and “Cleaning Out the Rooms”. The former is actually titled “Mongk II” on the full length, as the track is re-worked a bit from its original version to throw Wilkinson’s vocals into a vocoder and roughing up the electric guitars a little more. Does it make the song any better than the pretty mediocre original? Not really. “Cleaning Out the Rooms” is the same between EP and album, and it’s still a 7 minute giant of a song that plays beyond its means. This time there’s a full orchestra to help bring some serious post-rock Sigur Ros swells to the proceedings. It’s nice as a concept and as something that breaks away from the overall blandness of the standard stadium rock fare, but with all the excess still happening instrumentally there’s still some issues. Perhaps the most interesting track on the album is also the shortest. “Thin Black Sail” is a quick slap in the face, psychedelic punk rock track that’s over almost as soon as it began. It’s rather exciting to hear British Sea Power try something so white hot and off the rails. Positioned between the two longest songs on the album though, it’s an extra tough transition into the eleven minute “Once More Now”. That really does push an experimental and post-rock edge, and while it isn’t as busy of a track, there are still flutes and violins and weird scratching sounds that pop up over the course of it. The issue “Once More Now” has is that there’s very little reason to extend it to 11 minutes because it becomes a drag after about 6 or 7. The slightly more modest arrangement suits the band, but here’s one case where they try to do too much with too little. It’s the sort of song that’d work as an adrift album closer, but the band apparently felt differently. “Heavy Water” officially ends “Valhalla Dancehall”, and the mid-tempo rock song comes across like British Sea Power on autopilot. It’s a disappointing way to end a record that boasts a couple of interesting and different things from the band than we’re normally used to.

Essentially, “Valhalla Dancehall” would be seen as “just another British Sea Power album” had it not followed the massively bland offering that was “Do You Like Rock Music?” (again, casting “Man of Aran” aside). As a result it’s easy to say the band has improved since their last full length, even in some respects over the randomness that was last year’s “Zeus” EP. They’ve toned down a majority of their bad habits, though those still rear their ugly heads on a handful of tracks. They also try and venture into new territory, and that’s both admirable and a poor choice given that they aren’t always successful in those attempts. Better to try something new over doing something you know doesn’t work. Really though, British Sea Power have proven they absolutely can write big stadium rock songs and make them great, the issue is that those flashes of brilliance typically only show up once or twice an album. The rest is just gross, marginal excess. What remains interesting about British Sea Power though is that despite how continually huge their sound tries to be, they always throw in a few curveball tracks in the form of minor pop arrangements or weird soundscapes. They haven’t yet come upon true balance in their sound, something that would sustain for one entirely solid album, great or horrible. Their debut “The Decline of British Sea Power” came closest, and they haven’t looked back ever since. When they pull for mainstream audiences by trying to be larger than life, it comes off as phony and excessive, which turns the intended target off. When they get down an offbeat path trying to curry favor with indie kids and innovators, the attempts are offset by the crap that surrounds it. In other words, British Sea Power can’t win. They haven’t been able to do so thus far in their careers and “Valhalla Dancehall” falls right in line as well. When we’re talking about where this new record stands in terms of the band’s catalogue, somewhere in the middle is the proper answer even though it doesn’t mean much. Until they can find some true focus and are able to make a record that doesn’t ever sound like it was intended to be played in a room full of thousands of people, they won’t ever actually play to a room full of thousands of people. Funny paradox, isn’t it, having to “go smaller” to get big. Not many bands have that problem, but British Sea Power are one of them. We’d give up on them if they didn’t make those three or four songs each record that were genuinely great and showed serious promise for their future. “Valhalla Dancehall” has that quality about it, and if you want to do the band a favor, you’ll take the free downloads below and nothing more. One can hope that the wake up call they so desperately need might be delivered in the form of poorer than usual record sales. The call is yours though, and if you’re reading this before or around the album’s release date, take the full stream link below into account before jumping in with both feet. You may be looking to soak in the hot tub, but a pool of tepid water is no hot tub.

Stream the entire album at The Onion’s AV Club

Preorder “Valhalla Dancehall” from Amazon

Album Review: Gorillaz – The Fall [EMI]

On 01/03/2011

Join the Gorillaz fan club Sub Division and get a free download of “The Fall”

Without a doubt, the hot gadget for 2010 was the iPad. Apple seems to have a monopoly lately on must-own items, and many a person will testify to the high quality and innovation the company consistently strives toward. Good for them, they’re probably doing more good than harm with their products, even if a tablet computer such as an iPad doesn’t have the processing power of your average laptop and has a tendency to break if you drop it from a countertop. Those things are inconsequential, because it’s cool, and the apps created for it allow you to do cool things. Case in point, whilst on tour in North America for 32 days this past fall, Damon Albarn wrote and composed 15 new Gorillaz songs using his iPad as the primary tool and musical instrument for the entire thing. It’s an impressive feat in and of itself, particularly because it sounds as good as a record made the traditional way, in a studio with industry standards such as ProTools or GarageBand. Released this past Christmas Day as a free download for fan club members ONLY (it only costs…$45 for a year’s subscription), “The Fall” is the official title of this iPad-made album. It may not boast the extensive list of guest stars and dramatic orchestral moments, but it remains a Gorillaz album through and through, with plenty of electro-pop style, found sound samples, and anchored by Albarn’s vocals.

Going purely by the song titles, you can tell that “The Fall” was a record composed on a journey across America. Over half the titles reference cities or states, and according to the album liner notes they were all recorded in those locations (see: “Shy-Town” in Chicago, “Amarillo” in Amarillo, etc). It’s not fair to say the actual music embodies the spirits of each city in which they were recorded, but that might be a product of how Damon Albarn views them anyways. If that’s the case, either the weather turning colder or perhaps road weariness may have affected Albarn’s mood as this isn’t the most upbeat Gorillaz record by any means. It’s often slow and lacks some of the pop edge that’s generated the cartoon band’s singles these past few years. The lack of any hip hop on this album is also an issue, though to be completely fair it’s not like you can get all your rap buddies to come out and record something with you as you tour around the country. In place of much of that are various natural sound samples that were recorded in locations around the country, from flipping around Texas radio stations to a forest and stream in Santa Fe to a loudspeaker announcement at an Los Angeles train station. Hell, the last track, “Seattle Yodel” is just a store-bought “yodeling pickle” (which you can buy online as well) held up to a microphone. At the very least these natural sounds make for something different outside of the iPad-crafted beats and the actual instruments that do pop up very infrequently. It’s definitely enough to leave you wondering whether you can call this even a legitimate Gorillaz album if Albarn is virtually the only person composing most of these songs.

While “The Fall” may have its issues, it may also be a little unfair to judge it harshly. First off, the method of distribution exclusively via the band’s fan club seems to suggest that this wasn’t intended to be heard by the masses or in the hope of spawning a radio hit. The only way non-fan club members can get their hands on this record is either by streaming it via the band’s website or pirating a copy. Secondly, writing and recording such an album over 32 days while in the middle of a tour that offers loads of distractions isn’t the way that 98% of bands operate, mostly out of fear what they come up with will be a crap product. Thirdly, to limit yourself and to base an entire record on what you can do with a bunch of iPad applications and a couple instruments is a challenge and a half in and of itself. The liner notes list all 20 iPad applications, along with the couple of actual instruments used to create everything you hear on “The Fall”, to the point where you could make this whole record over on your own should you be so inspired. That nobody has put out a legitimate iPad-recorded album prior to now really also shows how forward-thinking and brilliant Damon Albarn really is. While you were busy playing the latest edition of “Angry Birds” he was writing and composing music. Were he to allow himself more time and resources you can probably assume this record would have been a lot better and a lot more upbeat/fun. Eh, that’s probably the plan for the next, fully legitimate release from the band. So instead of being great “The Fall” is merely good, though better than might otherwise be expected. It’s not worth paying for a fan club membership just to own it, but if you really love Gorillaz and want to take advantage of more than just this exclusive music (a lithograph, webstore discount, ticket presales, streaming live videos, etc), perhaps the Sub Division is for you.

Stream “The Fall” at the official Gorillaz website

Album Review: Jónsi – Go Live

Buy “Go Live” from Jónsi’s website
Buy it from Amazon

On 12/02/2010

In album review, BNM, live music, music

With Sigur Ros on a bit of a break while most of the members spend time with family and the like, angelic-voiced frontman Jónsi decided to work on some other music and art related projects. First came Jónsi and Alex, an extremely sparse music and art project he did with his boyfriend Alex Somers. The album “Riceboy Sleeps” was a quiet collection of ethereal instrumentals that was recorded using entirely acoustic instruments. That was followed by a genuine solo album, “Go”, which was released this past spring. “Go” was probably the better of the two albums, even though both definitely had their individual merits. Neither could quite live up to most of what Sigur Ros has done, but that’s an incredibly high standard to live up to. One of the flat-out great things about Jónsi’s solo work was that he felt the need to make every live performance a special experience for the audience. He worked closely with 59 Productions to craft an elaborate stage setup with costumes and other visual pieces such as animation and video to accompany most every song. It made Jónsi one of the best live acts to see in the last year, and if you missed it, you’re basically screwed unless you live in Japan or Iceland which are where his last two solo shows will be taking place this month. Personally, I tried pretty hard to make it out to one of the three dates Jónsi played in Chicago this past spring and fall, but unfortunately just never quite got there. The good news is that this week saw the release of “Go Live” – a CD/DVD package that gives you all that Jónsi audio AND visual goodness you either missed or just want to see/hear again.

First, the “Go Live” DVD is worth the purchase price alone. It was filmed at Jónsi’s very first solo live show on the “Go” tour, back in London in March. He and his backing band play eleven songs, a couple of which are unreleased, in the sense that they didn’t appear on the original “Go” album. No Sigur Ros songs or Jónsi and Alex songs (even though Alex is part of his solo tour backing band), just Jónsi solo stuff. Adding the visual element to these songs in this particular case actually serves to enhance them from their original states, really just taking art to the “next level”. Between flowers growing, birds soaring through the air and rain pouring down in sheets, it’s a visual feast for the eyes that feels as inspired by Jónsi as Jónsi surely was by it. There’s a distinct lack of highlights on the DVD, mostly because the entire live show as a whole can be considered a higlight. As a teaser though, outside of a trailer a lot of the focus has been on a wonderfully extended version of “Around Us” that makes all the right moves. Eleven songs and 73 minutes is more than fair for a DVD such as this one, but that doesn’t quite compare with the 14 tracks and 75 minutes of the CD that comes with it.

Lacking the visual stimuli but packing a nearly equal punch, the audio-only portion of “Go Live” was pulled from a show in Belgium back in May and a few tracks also come from a Brighton, England show this past September. Given that the studio version of “Go” only spans 9 tracks and this CD is 14, that means 5 new songs you might not have heard before. Granted, tracks like “Stars in Still Water” and “Icicle Sleeves” were pretty much played at every solo show Jónsi did, and “Sticks + Stones” appeared on the “How to Train Your Dragon” soundtrack, but in all likelihood you haven’t heard every single one of these tracks. Just to have high quality recorded versions of the unreleased stuff is worth it, and all the songs are so damn good you’ve got to wonder why the unreleased stuff didn’t make the original album. Another great thing about Jónsi live in general is that the crowds are more than respectful. Plenty of live records are marred by too much audience interaction or singing along and things of that nature, but outside of little bits of applause before and after a handful of tracks, most everything is silent as night. It leaves the CD in pristine audio quality to the point where it sounds like a studio recording, only a little more insistent and playful. The DVD fares equally well audio-wise, though the visual element takes some attention away from that. Things to pay close attention to on the “Go Live” CD include a harrowing 7-minute rendition of “Tornado”, another equally great 8 minutes of “Around Us”, plus the new/unreleased songs. Naturally though, Jónsi likes to save the best for last, which is why a 10+ minute version of “Grow Till Tall” ends both the CD and DVD. It’s the sort of thing that makes you wonder why it’s only 5 minutes on the original album.

The majority of live CDs and DVDs are not worth your hard-earned money. Any artist can put 5 cameras in a concert venue, perform a straight show and then release it. There’s no real need to be interesting, provided it sounds good enough. There also seems to be a casual approach to crowd noise, as some artists feel it necessary to prove a “connection” to the audience or are just sloppy when it comes to editing that out. Those crying fans singing along with your every word? Let’s put that on the DVD because our fans are passionate. Jónsi’s fans are every bit as passionate and every bit as connected (if not moreso) than any other artist, but “Go Live” doesn’t play those cards except for very conservatively. The people responsible for putting this package together fully recognize that this show is an artistic expression akin to a play or a painting in an art gallery. You don’t boorishly yell things out in the middle of a play, nor do you rub your greasy hands all over a Picasso. You look but don’t touch. You listen and don’t interrupt. Throw in unique renditions of songs you already know and a handful of new stuff, and an already worth it package becomes a must-own. “Go Live” is better than the studio version of “Go”. The songs retain their beauty but flourish beyond that into something triumphant and even more exciting when heard, and the visual side from the DVD half deepens the art in a different way. Released just in time for the holidays, the “Go Live” package is makes for a wonderful gift for that Jónsi/Sigur Ros fan in your life.

Album Review: Duffy – Endlessly [Mercury/A&M]

On 12/01/2010