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Album Review: Blue Water White Death – Blue Water White Death [Graveface]

If two individuals break away from their well-respected bands to form a new one together, does it constitute the formation of a supergroup? It’s a good question, though the answer is most likely the easiest by simply saying yes. With just two people though, it might be more accurate to call them a superduo rather than a supergroup. This week in superduo formations, Blue Water White Death is the name that Jonathan Meiburg of Shearwater and Jaime Stewart of Xiu Xiu came up with for their new project. Their self-titled record is out this week, and if you’re a fan of either of these two guys, there’s something for you here.

Xiu Xiu are a notoriously tough band to get into, primarily because Jaime Stewart seems to really like abstract and challenging melodies. He’s not afraid to get weird, and that’s been to both the benefit and detriment of the band. Shearwater, on the other hand, are well known for their carefully and gorgeously composed songs, implementing strings and a host of other instruments to get the point across. It’s highly dramatic and Jonathan Meiburg’s voice can go from cowering to soaring at the flip of a switch. What’s pretty fascinating as well is how much Meiburg and Stewart sound exactly alike the majority of the time, though Stewart seems to prefer yelping and screaming rather than smoothly soaring. That’s probably because it serves his end purpose better. Vocals aside, it would seem that these two guys and their bands have little in common with one another. so how a collaboration would play out is an interesting concept. Blue Water White Death turns that hypothetical situation into a reality, and surprisingly it plays out how you might expect it to.

Beautiful experimentation are the two words to best describe Blue Water White Death’s debut, as Meiburg carefully handles the beautiful part and Stewart takes care of the experimental part. The album’s first single and longest song at 6+ minutes is “Song for the Greater Jihad”, and it perfectly sums up what to expect from the record. There’s a quietly picked acoustic guitar that comes across as shimmering, and matched with Meiburg’s delicately forceful vocals it could be a Shearwater song. But then there are the obtuse and loud bass guitar hits every so often, coming across like somebody is smashing the guitar with a mallet. There’s also a power drill that makes a violent appearance somewhere close to the middle of the track, for no apparent reason than to create more odd cacophony. These things don’t exactly ruin the track, but they do feel just a little forced, like they both listened to the song and said, “it sounds too precious and clean”. That seems to be the motive or manifesto for most of the record, calm beauty occasionally interrupted by noises that clearly don’t belong. Over the album’s 8 tracks, that pattern is largely repeated time and time again, to the point where things start to blend together a little and standout moments are hard to come by. “Grunt Tube” is nice, and paired up with “Song for the Greater Jihad” they form a nice 1-2 punch. The same goes for the two closing tracks “Gall” and “Rendering the Juggalos”, the former taking on some more psychedelic elements while the latter splices together a series of noises to excellent effect. In between those relative bookends there’s a gray area that’s more okay than it is great.

Meiburg and Stewart chose to name their band after a documentary about shark hunters, and listening to this Blue Water White Death debut makes perfect sense when considered in that context. Meiburg represents the Blue Water half of the band, crafting melodies that soundtrack the relative calm and mystery of the sea. Stewart takes the form of White Death, like a predator shark prowling those quiet waters and attacking prey at will. That being said, the combination may be unique but it lacks real purpose. Not much comes off as revelatory or particularly worth your time, especially when comparing this project with the two members’ main bands. Perhaps the album’s problems have something to do with the fact that they wrote and recorded it in only a week, entering the studio with no instruments or set plans. It’s no wonder that most of the tracks feel somewhat haphazardly thrown together or not entirely complete. The thought was good, the execution was not. For fans of Shearwater and/or Xiu Xiu, Blue Water White Death is something worth at least giving a try, just to see if it strikes you in the right way. Most everyone else will struggle and probably give up on it. This debut has given us enough of a reason to see that the pairing of these two dynamic artists can yield strong results, it just might take a little bit of time and care to nurture the project into something healthier for mass consumption.

Blue Water White Death – Song for the Greater Jihad

Buy “Blue Water White Death” from Graveface Records

Album Review: Belle & Sebastian – Write About Love [Matador]

If you’re reading this, chances are your interest in music is such that by now you’ve heard at least one album from Belle & Sebastian in your lifetime. They’ve been around since 1996 and have a handful of critically acclaimed albums to their name, so to ignore them or at the very least not give them a try would be shorting yourself. True, not everybody LOVES Belle & Sebastian, but they keep getting more and more popular with each successive release. Their last album, 2006’s “The Life Pursuit”, saw them crack the Top 10 UK Albums chart for the first time ever, and a mid-60s rank on the US charts was also their highest to date. They’re also playing larger venues, to the point where they had a very strongly attended show at the 3,000+ capacity Chicago Theatre earlier this week. The grand point in all this is that Belle & Sebastian are continuing to grow in esteem, and their new album “Write About Love” provides that much more evidence as to why. If you actively dislike the group, there won’t be any reason for you to change that opinion, but for any newbies, this new record isn’t a bad place to start primarily because there are very few bad places to start in the band’s catalogue period.

Every now and then it’d be nice if Belle & Sebastian would just throw us a curveball by attempting something truly experimental. Sure, they’ve dabbled in such moments before – a song like “Your Cover’s Blown” is one of the best songs in their library – but those have been far too fleeting. Instead, the band has created a set of expectations with each new release and they largely stick to the script. Today it’s classified as indie pop, but their on-the-sleeve influences stem from the late 60s and early 70s, when there was plenty of AM gold to go around and disco was something of a passing phase. The sound is instantly recognizable though, and indie kids without the classic rock knowledge have probably labeled at least a couple recent bands as “Belle & Sebastian-y”. There’s always a splash of guitar, occasionally it gets funky and into a toe-tapping groove, while the bass often takes a walk, a piano might pop up for a moment, and more extraneous elements like horn/string sections or xylophones don’t feel too out of place. Vocally, there’s lots of sharing, and though Stuart Murdoch is the official “frontman” for the band, it’s not uncommon for Sarah Martin to add her female influence via harmonies, call-and-response lyrics, or taking over the lead entirely. Stevie Jackson and others also handle portions of the singing, as this is very much a group affair. But have a listen to virtually any Belle & Sebastian album and you’ll find all these elements. Listen to “Write About Love” and you’ll be “surprised” to learn they’re back again.

So what separates “Write About Love” from everything else the band has done? Not a whole lot, but if you’re working on the “if it ain’t broke” model, this isn’t a problem. Norah Jones pops up for a duet with Murdoch on “Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John”, which would be an interesting twist had the track not gone for the obvious smooth, almost jazzy stylings Jones is typically known for. That actually hurts the record just a little, taking the focus away from what’s pretty much a strong collection of pop songs and ballads otherwise. So long as we’re mentioning guest cameos, actress Carey Mulligan (see: “An Education”, “Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps”) also pops up for the album’s title track, and the good thing is that she’s got a strong voice yet doesn’t have a legitimate singing career (i.e. she’s not playing the “double threat” card a la Zooey Deschanel). You’d never know it was Carey Mulligan either (it could well have been Sarah Martin again) had there not been a bunch of press making a fuss about it. Special guests aside, what continues to make Belle & Sebastian such a draw and each of their releases so worthwhile are the small things that aren’t the easiest to pick up on. Take opener “I Didn’t See It Coming”, which starts off with typical flourishes of piano and guitar matched to Martin’s voice. It’s all very pleasant, and the harmonies come in and it’s even more pleasant, and then suddenly the track builds into this monstrosity where synths enter the fray and everything just gets overwhelming in the best way possible. It’s like a weather microburst, where it’s sunny outside one minute, then storming like crazy the next before quickly returning back to sun. And if you’re looking for the song that wins the prize for best composition, look no further than “Come On Sister”, which is an incredibly tight pop song that does everything Belle & Sebastian do best without a single second wasted. If effortlessly catchy is your style, try “I Want the World” on for size and tell me if the 1-2 lyrical punch of “I want the world to stop/give me the morning” doesn’t stick with you for awhile afterwards.

All indicators suggest that “Write About Love” is yet another check mark in the “excellent” column for Belle & Sebastian. How they’ve been able to keep up such a strong stable of records largely seems to be a product of embracing the fully collaborative spirit everyone seems to bring to the studio. Stuart Murdoch may have been the guy most responsible for the band’s early work, but he’s by no means infallible, as evidenced by that little side project he’s been working on the past couple years, God Help the Girl. The whole concept of it being a soundtrack to a supposed musical he was busy writing and preparing to stage/film was somewhat clever, but given that nothing’s really come of it leaves an album and EP’s worth of songs out there with little to no context or meaning behind them. Perhaps they’d be better were they placed within a plotted framework? But getting back to it, while most Belle & Sebastian records do sound the same, the strength of the full band continues to try and push that sound to newer, more advanced levels. On “Write About Love”, the arrangements are tighter and more beautiful than ever before, while Murdoch’s lyrics hold steady on his two favorite topics, love and religion. The couple tracks that do fall just a little flat hold the album back from eclipsing much of the band’s previous work, but if you’re a fan it probably won’t bother you much, if at all. After nearly 5 years, it’s just nice to have more Belle & Sebastian in our lives.

Buy “Write About Love” from Amazon

Album Review: Marnie Stern – Marnie Stern [Kill Rock Stars]

Marnie Stern is inspiring. Even when she’s trying not to be, she still inspires. Her last album, “This Is It and I Am It and You Are It and So Is That and He Is It and She Is It and It Is It and That Is That” (a title I will NOT type again) was a rousing call to arms, a battle cry of motivational songs perhaps best defined by the singular lyric, “The future is yours, so fill this part in”. Outside of her compelling wordplay, Stern’s unique finger-tapping guitar work matched with drummer Zach Hill’s insane beats behind the kit make for another tremendously gripping and inspiring bit of work that gives you a whole other reason to keep listening. For her third album, which is self-titled, Stern might be in a darker place lyrically, but instrumentally things have never been stronger.

Telling people that the opening track “For Ash” on your new album is about an ex-boyfriend’s suicide probably gets across the point that not everything is going to be about positive self-empowerment. That’s perfectly okay though, because while it may be disheartening to hear depressing things from a woman that seemed to be working so hard against it, there’s nothing subtle or cryptic about what’s being said. Stern is in full confessional mode, and that means a lot of plainspoken and direct words that present a vulnerability that she hasn’t ever put on display before. The emotion has always been there, this is just the first time it’s fully risen to the surface for all to see. No matter how far down she goes though, Stern keeps every single song on the album afloat thanks to her larger-than-life guitar work. The speed and heft at which she drives each melody forwards brings a life and energy that gratifies at every turn. Were you to completely ignore the lyrics (which, given the amount the guitars and drums dominate the mix, isn’t too difficult), it’d be easy to mistake this record for something really upbeat and fun. Dark though they may be, Stern’s lyrics are actually the most important part of her songs. Her guitar work certainly makes each song unique, but if you’ve heard one Marnie Stern song, you get the general idea of what her sound is. The WAY she does it, and the WORDS she uses are what take each individual song to the next level from merely very good to absolutely great.

Speaking specifically to how the songs come together on this third album, most everything is still taken with a ‘loud as hell” approach, set to blow out your eardrums were you to turn it up too loud. Even on a ballad like “Transparency Is the New Mystery”, Stern’s guitar is still cranked to 11 whether you like it or not. One of the few moments of sonic respite though comes in the form of the closing track “The Things You Notice”, and that’s a highly fascinating mid-tempo cut that might be the poppiest thing she’s ever done. There’s a starkly beautiful quality about it as well that moves almost in contrast with the sharp-edged and often obtuse guitar work that permeates the rest of the record. And obtuse though they may be, there’s no lack of hooks on this album either, the majority of them coming in the form of near-anthemic shout-alongs. Outside of the two singles, a song like “Building a Body” is a perfect example of that, built to get heads banging and fists pumping. And while Marnie Stern’s substantial work on this album is more than enough for her to self-title this third effort, it remains essential to give credit to drummer Zach Hill and his incredibly propulsive work. Whether he’s doing his own solo thing or helping out Stern, Hill is one of the best drummers working today, and without him this record would have suffered greatly. This may be credited as a Marnie Stern album, but Hill has close to an equal share in this affair and should be recognized as such.

Fans of Marnie Stern’s last album might find this new self-titled effort just a tiny bit more difficult to get into, the main reason being the somewhat pessimistic outlook the lyrics provide. But those darker lyrics are actually great evidence of her growth as an artist, revealing more layers than we’ve heard from her before. It may take a few listens to fully comprehend what she’s aiming for, but once it finally sinks in you’ll fall in love pretty quickly. For sheer immediate energy and excitement though, this is just as good as anything else she’s put out, and there’s just enough variation to prevent it from feeling tired or stale. Stern is too talented a guitarist and Hill too talented a drummer to allow the material to be anything less than unique. This album really is one of the loudest rock records you’ll hear all year, and with enough of a pop edge to stick in your head long after it’s finished. This may be one for year-end consideration, so don’t let it pass you by without at least giving it a quick taste.

Marnie Stern – For Ash
Marnie Stern – Transparency is the New Mystery

Buy “Marnie Stern” from Amazon

Album Review: Clinic – Bubblegum [Domino]

Six albums and just more than ten years in, Clinic have come a long way from the glory days of their 2000 debut “Internal Wrangler”. That and 2002’s “Walking With Thee” established the medical scrubs-wearing band as heavily indebted to 60s and 70s psychedelia, though their modern twist was often far more experimental and anti-pop. Most people probably discovered the band through one of those two records, which created what qualified as “buzz” in an era when the mp3 was just getting legs as a distribution method for music. Without the benefit of a million music blogs, the band truly earned their stripes the old fashioned way, only to slowly lose them with a string of records that failed to expand much on their “groovy” initial splash. There have been subtle changes over the course of records like “Winchester Cathedral”, “Visitations” and “Do It!”, but with the advent of other sharply psych-pop leaning groups such as Animal Collective, Clinic has fallen largely by the wayside. Despite this, there’s no other group making music today that quite captures what Clinic have going for them, and they prove it again sufficiently on their latest release “Bubblegum”.

Kicking off with the mid-tempo “I’m Aware”, right away things sound a bit different from your standard Clinic fare. There’s a briskly strummed acoustic guitar that leads into strings and a mellow but overtly firm vocals from Ade Blackburn. The sound has an almost Troggs vibe to it, and the surprisingly heartfelt lyrics about the greatness of love differ from the vaguer, darker things the band has explored previously. Also interesting is the title track, which makes ample use of wah-wah guitars to the point where it comes off like the soundtrack to a lost blaxploitation film from the 70s. That’s an arena the band hasn’t explored much, if at all, and it’s just too bad they don’t try more of it. Then again, excessive use of wah-wah guitars can get a little cliched after awhile. For fans of what might best be described as “classic Clinic”, i.e. the type of songs they’ve done a lot of before, take comfort in a track like “Lion Tamer”, which is heavy on the guitars and distortion. The track’s brisk pace and acid rock stylings act as something of a breath of fresh air on the surprising amount of ballad-esque tracks that surround it on either side. “Milk & Honey” is another one that looks back to the band’s earlier days, and Blackburn gets all mumbley and mushmouthed as he’s done so many times before. But in the spirit of mixing things up, a song like “Radiostory” comes along, which pairs a very bass and organ-heavy instrumental with a spoken word tale. For a brief moment it resembles something The Clientele would do (have done…see “Losing Haringey”), but the backing music isn’t quite as gorgeous though the story is relatively meaningful. What is pretty beautiful is “Forever (Demis Blues)”, which actually incorporates a banjo as one of the main instruments next to the percussion that keeps things at the pace of a steady shuffle. Additionally pleasant-sounding is the instrumental track “Una Astronauta En Cielo”, which mixes acoustic guitars, drum machines and just a little bit of keyboards. This all comes before what winds up being one of Clinic’s best songs to date in the album-closing “Orangutan”. The wah-wah guitars make a return, but there’s plenty of heavy electrics and a psychedelic stomp that’s probably the grooviest and most solid thing the band can offer.

Despite what feels like more than a handful of sonic experiments, virtually everything on “Bubblegum” sounds exactly like Clinic. That’s not to suggest a lack of diversity in the band’s approach, but more that there’s so many ways you can skin a cat. Whether it’s Ade Blackburn’s often overly calm vocal performance or just the simple fact that much of what Clinic does carries with it the tones of 60s and 70s psychedelia, something is giving this record inescapable roots. Given that the band does tend to have a sound all their own (ostensibly speaking), nobody can fault them for staying inside the same bubble for six records. Were they to shove out an 80s synth pop or a 90s grunge album, it’d more than likely be regarded as a huge mistake and a blemish on their careers. As it stands, much of their catalogue ranges from great to pretty good, with only perhaps one small misstep. “Bubblegum” probably ranks somewhere towards the middle of their discography when arranged according to overall quality. There’s a bunch of good songs here, enough challenging material to satisfy long-time fans, and it also happens to be the most beautiful thing they’ve ever done. It may not be the revitalizing shot Clinic needs to get back on the “buzz band” trail, but for those that know and love the band, it delivers in the exact way needed to ensure you keep a close eye on them until next time.

Clinic – I’m Aware

Buy “Bubblegum” from Amazon

Album Review: Sharon Van Etten – Epic [Ba Da Bing]

At Female Singer-Songwriters Incorporated, we’re aware that you have about a million choices when it comes to ladies with guitars or piano, which is why it’s our goal to only point you towards the best and brightest of the bunch.”

If only such a service existed, it’d make for a much easier time sifting through the massive stockpile of women that rock, from the hardest of the hard to the softest of the soft. So in this era where everybody wants a slice of the pie, how is one to choose the females that stand out from the crowd? A good record label helps, the thought being that if their discerning ears have given a certain artist a thumbs up, they’re at least worth a quick listen. Unless you’re a blogger, you probably aren’t getting the dozen emails each day from ladies that sat down in their bedrooms with an instrument and a microphone hoping their songs would get heard. That’s part of how an artist like tUnE-yArDs was discovered, but it is by no means a guaranteed model for success. The reality of today’s music scene, for any artist looking to make it really, is word of mouth. When considering the women specifically that achieve some form of success, be it Cat Power or Feist, there are key tracks or full records that just stand out from the competition thanks in large part to a publicity machine that moves to the next level with critical acclaim. All that being said, Sharon Van Etten caught a bit of luck on her debut album “Because I Was In Love” last year, earning strong reviews and healthy buzz thanks to a highly expressive singing voice and strong songwriting. She further boosted her cred by getting a coveted invite to this year’s Pitchfork Music Festival. Armed with just an electric guitar, she had the very first set on the very first day and pulled it off brilliantly, even when her guitar string broke and she didn’t have a spare. That set was also heavy on new material, much of which appears on her just released sophmore album “Epic”.

What’s somewhat amusing about the album title “Epic” is that the music contained within is anything but. Of course compared to Van Etten’s previous album, these new songs are huge. Weighing in at only 7 tracks and with a length of barely over 30 minutes, some EPs have those specs. Ultimately though, if you’re limiting yourself to such a short period of time, two things should come out of it. First, every second should have an explicit and strong purpose. Wasting time on the shortest of short albums is like filling up on bread at a restaurant before the main course arrives. Secondly, with such a concise record it needs to have a good repeat value to the point where you’re left wanting more and the only solution is to start the whole thing over again. Sharon Van Etten might not make the breeziest and most upbeat songs in the world, but her talent oozes all over “Epic” and makes those important factors a priority.

Opening with the acoustic break-up ballad “A Crime”, the immediate impression one might get is that “Epic” will be an effortless sequel to her debut “Because I Was In Love”. The track does have a lot of the elements that make Van Etten great, but what it ultimately lacks are the wonderful things she does with the following six tracks. Once “Peace Sign” arrives with a full band, live drums and a decent-sized hook, it’s almost like the dawning of a new era. It’s an uptempo rock song that’s one of the most compelling things Van Etten has written to date. One of the most remarkable things about the track is how close it comes to spinning off the rails into a full-on jam session but doesn’t quite make it there on purpose. The show of restraint is the lynchpin that strongly contributes to making this song so good. Slide guitar and piano enter the fray for the alt-country cut “Save Yourself”, which contains faint echoes of Neko Case in all the right ways. After the initial verse and chorus pass by, the song moves to the next level by incorporating multi-part harmonies and vocal overdubs that are nothing short of gorgeous. As a mid-album anchor, the 6-minute “Dsharpg” feels mostly like an extended pathway connecting the two halves of the record. It’s not a throwaway track by any means, but it’s primarily a showcase for Van Etten’s awesome vocal power. There are some wavy synths and electronic haze keeping a solid background melody throughout, and the percussion work is limited to a couple sparse tambourine and drum hits. “Don’t Do It” makes a couple minor mistakes mostly in how it’s written and executed. The song feels almost forcibly hook-baited, as the chorus gets repeated over and over and over again across the 5 minutes with wordplay simple enough to stick in your head after the second run-through. Lines like “and you want to do it/if you want to do it/you are going to do it/even if i don’t want you to” come off as kind of uninspired and lazy. Van Etten does her best with it vocally though, and despite the apparent faults it’s tough to be too hard on it. The bright shining moment on the second half of the record lands with the full force of “Love More”. It’s another singing showcase as the track starts off with up-front vocals and wavy synths a la “Dsharpg” earlier in the record. Things slowly build as double and triple harmonies penetrate into the mix, followed shortly thereafter by guitar, bass and drums. Some have said the song has a very Jeff Buckley vibe to it, and that’s by no means a stretch of the truth. There’s not a much better way to close out the album.

So amid the current chart of female singer-songwriters, where does somebody like Sharon Van Etten stand? With “Epic”, she takes a good few steps forward in the direction of future indie star. Her songwriting remains strong for the most part, and strong/emotionally resonant vocals really help to separate her from most of her peers. She’s not quite at a Neko Case or Cat Power-like level of love and respect just yet, but she’s definitely getting closer. The backing of a label like Ba Da Bing has allowed her to flesh out her sound a bit further, incorporating a few more instruments than on her debut. The exploration of these new sounds remains in a largely safe (read: not risky or experimental) area, but no matter how normal-sounding this record might be, it’s anything but thanks to Van Etten’s sharp talent. For those of you looking for a great female singer-songwriter record this year, “Epic” is one of the stronger entries into that ever-expansive canyon. There’s very little reason you shouldn’t pick this album up, in particular because if you’re going digital it’ll only cost you $5 when you factor in the two songs you can download right below for free. The savings, to put it bluntly, are nothing short of epic.

Sharon Van Etten – Love More
Sharon Van Etten – Don’t Do It

Buy “Epic” from Amazon

Album Review: Women – Public Strain [Jagjaguwar]

Finding information about the band Women on the internet is tremendously difficult thanks to their name. Do a simple search and you’re more likely to find pornography than these guys. And that’s the other irony – with a band named Women, every member is male. But if you’ve been following the band since their 2008 self-titled debut album, these are things you probably already knew. What you may not have known, given the surprisingly high number of album releases from prolific artists in the past couple weeks, is that Women have quietly released their sophmore record “Public Strain”. It is yet another lo-fi psych-rock affair from the boys produced by their friend Chad VanGaalen, but there are a few changes made this time around that take the band into more fascinating territory than they’ve ever been in before.

On their debut, Women tried to balance dark, psychedelic instrumentals with lo-fi lyrical guitar pop, and they managed it surprisingly well. Their ability to push everything into a distorted fuzz no matter the approach was in part what helped it succeed. On “Public Strain”, the band’s two halves blend far more easily and effortlessly, and it makes for even more positive strides in the right direction. While none of the record is exactly easy on the ears, there are more thrills and more chills than ever before. Speaking specifically to the “chill” part of that, many of the songs on this album are slower than on the last one, and the overall mood is not just cold but frozen. The band recorded this album over a lengthy period of time, but most notably during an especially harsh Canadian winter. The album cover seems to echo that sentiment, with what looks like a massive amount of snow falling from the sky with just a light dusting on the ground. Of course instead of snow it could just be an old photograph that is massively distorted due to wear and tear. But the wintry tone speaks well to the material, as does the idea of fuzzed-out distortion. It may be tough to warm up to a record such as this, but what it lacks in warmth it more than makes up for in creative approaches to the material. There are less lyrical chorus-bound hooks here (though there are some), but more immediately compelling guitar work that sticks in your head just as well. The instrumentals have all but gone away, but in their place are a couple songs that barely any lyrics. The way they approach each track appears to be angular, starting from what feels like comfortable and familiar territory and then diverting from that in a hurry. It’s a very smart move, because not only are the songs unpredictable, but they’re also damn good.

“Public Strain” progresses in such a way that lends it well to repeat listens. “Can’t You See” starts the record almost completely adrift with nothing holding it together, but by the time “Eyesore” punches in for the final 6 minutes of the album everything feels like its in the right place. The quicker, more pop-driven songs are front-loaded to establish dominance early, but somewhere in “China Steps” there’s a spiral into dark and disturbing territory. Not that the first half of the album is light and cheery, but there are moments in later tracks like “Drag Open” and “Venice Lockjaw” that prove to be more difficult and creepy than much of what came before it. Put it this way – it’s like the difference between going to a funeral and entering a haunted house – one is sad and depressing while the other is excessively morbid to the point of scaring you. Yes, Women go for the jugular, but they’re all the better for it. Between the intensely addictive guitar work and the vocal harmonies that are gorgeously asymmetrical, there’s something about “Public Strain” that defies comparison. The best words to describe it might be to call it a “lo-fi 60’s psych-pop record that wasn’t released until today”. This might not quite reach the heights of “Album of the Year” status, nor is it as smartly crafted as similar band Deerhunter’s latest “Halcyon Digest”, but it strongly proves that Women are a force to be reckoned with. As the weather gets colder and terrible snowstorms begin to head in our direction, this record makes for a great mood-setting soundtrack. While it may very well match frozen tundra conditions outdoors, underneath its threatening and harsh exterior is an album that rewards careful and studied listens with unexpected warmth and comfort. There’s shelter and hot cocoa all set out for you, the challenge is hammering through the thick layers of ice to get it.

Women – Eyesore
Women – Narrow With the Hall

Buy “Public Strain” from Amazon

Album Review: Glasser – Ring [True Panther Sounds]

Glasser is Cameron Mesirow. Cameron Mesirow is Glasser. That’s the basic information you need to know. If you’re curious and want to know more, a few fun facts: she’s from Los Angeles, her dad is in Blue Man Group, her mom played in the short-lived (but relatively popular) band Human Sexual Response, and she came up with the pseudonymn Glasser after having a vision of a figure hovering over a body of water. There’s been one EP, the three track “Apply”, which came out in late 2009 and attracted the right sort of attention to build anticipation for what’s now her debut full length “Ring”, which is out this week.

Describing the sound of Glasser is a small challenge, but that’s a good thing considering how many artists fall plainly into certain genres. Mesirow’s early demos were very rough and unproduced, composed primarily in GarageBand and utilizing only a handful of instruments. With a label in True Panther Sounds and a producer in Foreign Born’s Ariel Rechtshaid, she worked for months to not only re-work a couple tracks from the “Apply” EP but also to craft a collection of songs that had deeper and fuller arrangements than ever before. Enter bass, xylophones, strings, saxophones and a vast selection of beats and percussion to help turn these sparse songs into ones packed with enough variety that it takes multiple listens through the record to even begin to process them. The foundation of most Glasser tracks is electro-synth based, but thanks to things like tribal percussion and the presence of woodwinds it goes beyond mere pop music. One minute she sounds like Kate Bush, the next Bat for Lashes, the next Bjork and the next Fever Ray. It may be a somewhat wide range of female artists, but each is brilliant in their own unique way, as is Glasser. “Ring” is exceptionally composed in large part thanks to how Mesirow commits herself to each individual song no matter where she’s pulling from and concentrates a laser beam-like focus to avoid steering off course. The entirety of the record is built around the titular concept as well, each track carefully placed in an order that spirals inwards to the middle and then back out again, returning to where it all began. At the end of the final track, “Clamour”, the first notes of opening song “Apply” pop up again. Were you to have the entire record on a loop (aka ring), it’d move perfectly from end to end by design.

Then there’s Mesirow’s voice. Smooth as silk, but prone to bits of oddities in that good sort of way. On “Apply”, she takes a fairly normal vocal turn amidst the heavy tribal percussion, but as the synths start to push the melody further and further, she gets out of control with a couple yelps, and then balances it out with some multi-part harmonies that eventually take over the entire track, drowning out the drums entirely. For the chorus of a song like “Plane Temp”, Mesirow repeats the same nonsense word over and over again as the vocal track doubles then triples and it all just turns out simply gorgeous (and easy to remember). A track like “T” serves well to show her vocal chops on a synth ballad, and it turns out sounding like a lost Bat for Lashes track in the best sort of way. One of the best things about “Mirrorage” is that it seems to take the title almost literally when it comes to the vocals, because of the sheer number of vocal tracks piled on top of one another. It’s like staring into a mirror with another mirror right behind you, thereby creating an endless mirror that looks like it goes on to infinity (you could call it…a loop). There’s something Karin Dreijer-ish about that song, in a very positive sort of way.

To Mesirow’s credit, for a record that’s so diverse and creatively stimulating, she’s also made “Ring” largely accessible. There are no tracks that feel too “out there” or experimental, even if this is very different from what you might find in a more mainstream female synth-pop album. There’s far too much ambience and tribal fodder to be placed in a bin anywhere near mainstream. Yet she’s also not quite of the same cloth that Icelandic hero Bjork is, which feels “weird for the sake of weird” sometimes. No, Glasser is far more straightforward with her intentions, despite the wide array of instruments that are used throughout the record. The way each song is organized, and the way each track works in collaboration with the ones that came both before and after it are a big part of why “Ring” is so wonderful. Step in at any singular point in these 9 tracks and 38 minutes and ride it all the way back around and you’ll have a far better understanding of the power this record possesses. The issue, if you want to call it that, is when you only absorb bits and pieces. A few songs like “Apply” and “Home” serve as good introductions to Glasser, but for the most part hooks and individual memories are hard to come by. You’ll definitely remember the album once its over, but trying to select standout moments is like spending time analyzing a gigantic “Where’s Waldo?” poster – damn difficult. In today’s single-a-minute world where most everyone is looking for 3 minutes of pure sugary pop, Glasser is the warm glass of milk you typically drink before bed. Its calming and lovely atmospherics are just what the doctor ordered at the end of a long day. Should you actually commit to it in its entirety, it can go a long way towards ensuring you get exactly what your ears have been searching for.

Glasser – Home

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Album Review: How to Dress Well – Love Remains [Lefse]

Bedroom recordings have taken huge strides in the past few years. With the advent of better technology and the ability to purchase sampling and mixing programs for cheaper than ever before, more and more people are making music their own way on their own dime. If it’s good enough and the person or band does the right sort of promotion, the music will be heard and popularity will move up or down accordingly. One of the bigger indie successes in recent memory has to me that of tUnE-YarDs, the one woman project of Merrill Garbus. She recorded her entire debut album “Bird-Brains” only using the microphone built into her laptop, and it pretty much sounds like it. Still, poor audio quality or not, plenty of people fell in love with the songs on that album and she’s also managed to establish a bigger fan base thanks to what many call a jaw-droppingly great live show. So if the DIY star of 2009 was Garbus, there’s little doubt the 2010 one is Tom Krell, a philosophy student that records under the moniker How to Dress Well. Last fall, How to Dress Well surfaced via a blog where Krell began posting a series of EPs for free download. Thanks to that easy availability, a number of keen ears caught wind of HTDW and the press cycle began. Now a year later, How to Dress Well has only picked up more steam as his debut album “Love Remains” has finally arrived in stores thanks to Lefse Records.

For those that caught onto How to Dress Well back in the “early” days of 2009, a number of songs on “Love Remains” should be immediately familiar to you. Much of the debut album is composed of tracks that appeared on the several EPs released months back. Many of the versions that are on this record have been touched up, but never to the point where they sound in any way professional. The new songs also carry that same aesthetic, and in some of the louder moments you get the fuzz that comes with taking your recording “into the red” aka beyond the capabilities of a microphone not connected to a carefully calibrated soundboard. So what makes up the core sound of How to Dress Well? When reading most anything about the man, you’ll catch references to “strong R&B influences”. If you have listened to a lot of R&B, most specifically from the 90s, you can definitely hear pieces of it on “Love Remains”. Where How to Dress Well differs is primarily in the use of general electronic textures and overdubs to create music that’s less rhythmically inclined and more adrift in the ether. Songs flow in an almost organic way, and when it comes to beats, the unconfirmed mixture of computers and handclaps stays static no matter how fast or slow everything else might be going. It creates a few moments of what feels like imbalance, but the reality is actually a bit brilliant, throwing you just off the mark enough to take notice but never enough to ruin what’s already going. The vocals are another highly fascinating aspect of How to Dress Well. Either due to the poor recording quality or through pure manipulation, you’ll barely be able to make out a word of what’s being said at any given point in the record. Without a doubt the words are there, but they’re sung like a person who recognizes a melody from a long time ago but can’t seem to remember exactly how the lyrics go. Suddenly the spotlight and a microphone is in front of you and the crowd wants to hear you belt it out…but you can’t, so you do the next best thing which is mumble to the point where it SOUNDS like the words are right but nobody can make them out clearly. Yeah, the muffled lyrics don’t help should you want to sing along, but if you’re so inclined, feel free to hum along to the melody of a track like “Ready for the World”.

While R&B may be a standard frame of reference for How to Dress Well, should you not normally listen to or enjoy that sort of music, no worries. In indie terms, think of “Love Remains” like a less percussive, early stage Animal Collective record with Justin Vernon of Bon Iver on lead vocals. Krell does sound an awful lot like Vernon, and the overdubbed and often harmonized backing vocals only add further creedence to that. Actually a great model on the whole for HTDW would be the group Gayngs, of which Vernon is a member. They’ve got a slow, soft rock sort of vibe with a hint of that same R&B flavor – the difference in the end being the high level of production and wide variety of instruments used. For a home-recorded, very limited range record, “Love Remains” does an incredible amount of things with an incredibly small number of tools. Krell’s ability to manipulate just a couple of sparse sounds on a song like “Endless Rain” into something that feels fully formed is fascinating to hear and really establishes him as a talent. That he can also pull off such a serene mess of a masterpiece without using much in the way of lyrics is even more impressive. At any moment it feels like the songs could just dissolve into nothingness or simply ambient noise, but none ever do and that’s a big part of what makes “Love Remains” such a gripping listen. It goes without saying that you should pick up a copy of this record. It’s one of the year’s finest, and might just inspire a whole new collection of musicians crafting smart music using just a handful of instruments in their bedrooms. Chances are very few will find the sort of success that How to Dress Well has, but if the next Tom Krell is out there somewhere tinkering around, we’d all be idiots to not give him or her some positive attention.

How to Dress Well – You Won’t Need Me Where I’m Goin’
How to Dress Well – Ready for the World

How to Dress Well – Ready for the World (Twin Sister Remix)

Buy “Love Remains” on CD/LP from Lefse Records
Buy it from iTunes

Album Review: The Hundred in the Hands – The Hundred in the Hands [Warp]

With all the intense focus on glo-fi/chillwave these days, more normal-sounding dance records can skate under the radar with relative ease if you’re not paying attention. And dance rock, the genre upon which guitars hit hard amidst the beats, well that’s been as good as dead in the last couple years. This is why once highly prolific bands such as Bloc Party and Franz Ferdinand find themselves in a bit of a struggle to survive in their current state. Evolve or die is the mantra, and that tends to go for dance rock bands both popular and unpopular. In keeping a close eye on the trends, many record labels are signing bands according to what’s hot, which is why glo-fi continues to make the (chill)waves it does. Not calling anything a mistake, but now and then you do get the occasional band making their debut while playing up trends that have already passed. The progressive dance label Warp signed the duo known as The Hundred in the Hands and is putting out their self-titled debut record this week, but one listen and you’ll get a firm grasp on a the hot sounds of 2005. Now it stands to argue that judging music purely based on the public zeitgeist is foolish, because you never know when some band will turn in a brilliant record using an outdated sound. Hell, if there’s a rap-rock record that comes out in the next couple months that’s incredibly smart and well put together, the general public would be idiots to not give it the proper attention. So let’s not judge The Hundred in the Hands based on what genre they’re choosing to exploit, but rather the content and composition of their songs.

Having hammered that point home, it’s a shame that The Hundred in the Hands don’t have something stronger to offer for a debut album. These two first attracted my attention a few months back when I caught their live set as they were opening for another band. It was such a strong show and such fun that they pretty much blew all the other bands on the bill that night out of the water. As a direct result, I picked up a copy of their “This Desert” EP and continued to be captivated by their somewhat quirky take on what would normally be a standard dance rock album. The issue is that the band apparently made the conscious choice to avoid that sound in order to move in a bit more of a mainstream and “traditional” direction. The sonic gap between what appears on that EP and this self-titled full length isn’t as big as you might think, but when you’re working in a world of stale ideas, any unique spin you can put on your music is an advantage. This is why the squeaky clean production on “The Hundred in the Hands” turns out to be a very bad thing, along with the easy melodies that occasionally feel like you’ve heard them before. As disappointing as that might be, the band still does well for itself on a few levels. First is simply Eleanore Everdell, who is simply amazing on virtually everything she puts her voice to. Those are some seriously strong pipes, both incredible in their range and depth of emotion. When she gets all bedroom eyes on “Lovesick (Once Again)”, it turns into one of the most beautiful and intense moments on the record. “This Day Is Made” is haunting and immensely gripping thanks pretty much entirely to her singing. It doesn’t always work out though, and a song like “Gold Blood”, which is heavy on the rock angle and ups the BPMs just a bit turns Everdell into a Karen O-like figure. Unfortunately, she’s no Karen O, and the track makes that all too clear. Instead of a wild child she’s best in the character of an ice queen, freezing you out with talk of empty houses and wasted time. Jason Friedman’s role as guitarist and general foil works just fine, though he does very little to distinguish himself on the record. Everdell’s synths are generally the more dominant instrument, and the mixed use of drum machines and live drums doesn’t seem to make much of a difference except to pile more polish on top of what’s already there.

Thankfully “The Hundred in the Hands” doesn’t fall prey to every dance rock cliche there is. There are moments, glimmers if you will, of a potentially great band amid the blatant attempts to generate hook-filled choruses that will reach more ears and rise them above many of their indie bretheren. Songs like the opening “Young Aren’t Young” and “Pigeons” stand out for their ability to maneuver around the simplest melodies and try for something greater. There’s potential here, as there was potential on the “This Desert” EP, just not nearly so much of it. When faced with two paths to travel down, The Hundred in the Hands chose the easier walk. They’re now paying for it by being tagged with the “just another band like dozens we’ve heard before” label. It’s a shame too, because Warp pretty much only signs “above average” bands, which this duo seemed to be based on my brief history with them through a live show and an EP. Hopefully this debut record does well enough for them that they’re able to hold onto their label for another one. That will truly be the test of how ready they are to play in the big leagues of indie. They don’t need to be glo-fi to make waves in dance music, they just need to be great. Right now, The Hundred in the Hands are only moderately good.

The Hundred in the Hands – Dressed in Dresden

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Album Review: Of Montreal – False Priest [Polyvinyl]

Do you remember our last summer of independence? Kevin Barnes apparently does, and spoke about such on the last Of Montreal album “Skeletal Lamping”. That was the band’s ninth album, and charting their evolution since the very first one in 1997 has been a highly interesting adventure. As part of the whole Elephant 6 collective, Of Montreal began as a very twee pop, innocent bedroom adventure. That sound was a great part of the band’s early appeal, though after a few records things naturally began to get a little tired and stale. So like all good artists do, Of Montreal evolved and the new phase was one of wackier, more spaced out hyperpop that owed great debts to 70s disco and funk while continuing to push the boundaries of modern music. Kevin Barnes and his merry band of misfits worked hard to essentially become Prince 2.0, and with a record like “Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?” they damn well succeeded at it. But “Skeletal Lamping” was a sharp move in the wrong direction, to the point where Barnes created a transgendered alter-ego known as “Georgie Fruit” who took over on a handful of songs. Not only that, but lyrically things evolved to the point where everything became hyper-sexualized and explicit to the point of making even the most liberal people cringe just a little bit in disgust. Combine that with a collection of songs that only a child with ADHD could love (because they often began and ended with such speed and complete disregard for whatever came moments prior) and ultimately it was a mess – the first moderately bad Of Montreal album in quite awhile. How does one recover from such a musical misfire? If you’re Kevin Barnes, it probably means re-enacting the “Goodbye Horses” scene from “Silence of the Lambs”, but to each his own. But appearing to be just a little bit smarter this time around, Barnes enlisted the help of legendary producer Jon Brion to help with the next Of Montreal album, and also recruited friends such as Solange Knowles and Janelle Monae to spike up his punchbowl just a bit. All of these things are put together in the brand new Of Montreal album “False Priest”.

Sliding through even a couple of quick tracks at the beginning of “False Priest” brings an interesting idea of how things have changed in the last two years for the band. To start, Kevin Barnes has found his focus again. Somebody must have put him on a prescription of Ritalin because there’s no more bouncing between songs that are only halfway finished. Instead, songs expand and contract as they should and as they have on most other Of Montreal records. Additionally, the he/she character known as Georgie Fruit seems to have disappeared, though if Barnes merely singing in falsetto indicates he’s in character, then perhaps Fruit is still kicking on a few tracks. But the oversexed wordplay is toned down as well to make way for less cringe-worthy lines. The themes are still sexual in nature, but more on a PG-13 level than an NC-17 one. Relationships tend to be the topic of choice, but instead of sleeping with everything that moves, songs like “Our Riotous Defects” and “Coquet Coquette” are about the inability of men to understand women as Barnes echoes his confusion over why his woman is yelling at him or is withholding sex. As generally engaging as this might be, it does feel like territory that Of Montreal has covered before, albeit from different angles. Barnes doesn’t have quite as many interesting one-liners as he’s had on more recent albums, but he’s still without a doubt the chief architect of this band.

The way collaborators are used on “False Priest” is one of its strengths. Jon Brion acting as producer pulls the mostly minimalist arrangements that seem to dominate Of Montreal’s sound and dresses them up a little bit to give them a fuller and overall stronger feel, like the skinny kid that built up some muscle by working out. That said, Brion doesn’t nearly do enough to mess with what’s already a trademark band sound. You can throw lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig. How much of an influence Brion had on this final product is officially unknown, but one gets the impression Barnes might have been a little sensitive about messing with songs he’d probably been working on for awhile. As for the vocal turns from Janelle Monae and Solange Knowles, both add a little bit of extra spice to the record. It’s nice to hear vocals other than Barnes and more Barnes harmonizing with himself. Monae’s work on “Enemy Gene” is simply wonderful, and the already good song only gets better when she steps up to the microphone. Monae also does a little vocal part on the second half of “Our Riotous Defects”, and it turns a very plain Of Montreal song into something far more worthwhile. Put together that makes the track just a little better than average. As for Solange, her work on “Sex Karma” is less inspired and more according to script. It plays like a back and forth dialogue between boyfriend and girlfriend, and the move is so cliched that even a fascinating melody can’t scrape off all the cheese. That along with the poor innuendos don’t necessarily make the track worth yoru time. Barnes is hit and miss when he’s on his own too, sometimes holding steady in old patterns that have become a little too comfortable to the point where they’re bordering on boring. Other times he pushes boundaries, such as on first single “Coquet Coquette”, where guitars really up the ante and hint towards a potential future in that heavier direction. There are moments of digital trash that pile up in some of the gaps between vocals on “Like A Tourist” that feel highly fascinating and innovative for Of Montreal as well. And a song like “Famine Affair” has a remarkably 80s new wave vibe to it that shifts past the funk and into a more rock direction, especially when the chorus comes around. If there’s going to be a next sonic evolution for this band, that might be the track to use as a future model.

Ultimately “False Priest” comes off like a transitional record for Of Montreal. For a band that’s been around for so long, continuing to come up with new and interesting ideas has to be a significant challenge, which is why a number of songs on this album feel like retreads of where Barnes has gone before. Should Of Montreal continue down this path, the band will wind up stuck in the same cliches and the fans will suffer. Of course it also hasn’t been easy trying to adjust to all the many whims that Kevin Barnes seems to have from album to album. But he does the right thing by putting the train back on the track in the right direction, most notably by rendering out complete songs with less offensive lyrics than the poor “Skeletal Lamping”. The collaborations on this album turn out mostly positive, but they do leave you wondering how much personal influence Barnes placed on top of things like Jon Brion’s suggestions. A spirit more open to collaboration can only help to diversify Of Montreal’s sound even more, and that’s exactly what’s needed at this point. Still, there are moments of greatness on this record, providing a road map for just what might be next for this band. Should Barnes actually choose to pursue one of these new directions, and past evidence suggests he might, it could mean the continued love and critical acclaim for a band that has proven its resilience time and time again in the face of difficult odds. “False Priest” may be a little bit of a recovery from the tumble they took last time around, but there’s still a whole other set of challenges that lie ahead. How they face them will determine their future as a one of today’s most brilliantly oddball bands.

Of Montreal – Coquet Coquette

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Album Review: Weezer – Hurley [Epitaph]

Oh the politics of being Weezer. This band attracts so much attention for so many different reasons, and in preparation for the release of their new album “Hurley”, things hit a fever pitch. First it was word that the band was heading back to the indies after all those years in the majors. They ended their partnership with Geffen and hooked up with the small punk label Epitaph. Many took it as a sign the band was eager to return to their roots and take off much of the polish that so dominated their last few records. Then there was the controversy over the title “Hurley”, and how with the cover photo it appeared to be a tribute to Jorge Garcia’s character from the TV show “Lost”. Well, more recently guitarist Brian Bell revealed that the band struck some sort of deal with the clothing company Hurley, and that’s the real reason for the title being what it is. He later retracted that statement, but of course there is now a collection of Weezer-related clothing items for sale from Hurley. Then you get into the conflict that has plagued Weezer fans for several years now, that the band has given up on the magical early days of “The Blue Album” and “Pinkerton”, descending into a world of crap music ever since. Still, with each new Weezer album, those same fans that love to bitch hold out hope for a return to form only to be disappointed time after time. I’ll readily admit to being guilty of this, which is why last year in my review of “Raditude” I settled on the idea that the band had resigned any attempts at making creatively stimulating music anymore and were simply looking to have fun. If that meant ill-advised collaborations with Lil Wayne, then so be it. The plan was to stop judging them based on their past, but rather on the merits of every other soulless, alternative rock-ish band making mainstream music today.

For those hoping that signing to Epitaph would take Weezer away from the overly polished pop nonsense they’ve been putting out recently, “Hurley” actually makes a little progress in the right direction. The first sign the band is feeling nostalgic comes from opening track and first single “Memories”, where they recount some of those crazy times as a band on the rise during the mid-90s. They were so young and stupid back then. And the song’s not half bad either. That display of strength continues through the next track “Ruling Me”, which seems nearly destined to be the next single with its surging chorus and sugary sweet backing harmonies. On “Unspoken”, much of the track is sustained with simply Rivers and an acoustic guitar. It may lack the scratchiness of the couple home demo records he released, but there’s a certain charm to the song as it slowly builds, adding flute then some rhythmic shakers then orchestration before going full-on with the blasting electric guitars in the final minute. Similarly, the very beginning of “Run Away” features a lone piano and Rivers singing into what sounds like a shoddy microphone set up in a bedroom. Unlike “Unspoken” though, the full band enters 30 seconds into “Run Away” and it turns into something closer to an average mid-tempo rocker for Weezer, though with some xylophone hits and a few other odd elements it takes a somewhat unique approach. Keeping a similar tempo, “Hang On” is a love song that’s tender enough to move some hearts while containing a chorus that’s catchy and earnest. Weezer saves the biggest surprise for the end though, when “Time Flies” turns everything that came before it on its head. The audio fidelity completely drops out and you get what ostensibly sounds like a demo recorded without any professional studio equipment. The acoustic guitar, bass drum and piano all fight for space in the mix amid Rivers’ singing and backing harmonies. Everything sounds completely unclean and that’s a huge part of its charm. Add in a pretty addictive hook and it’s probably the best non-Weezer-like song that Weezer has ever put together. Perhaps credit goes to the legendary Mac Davis, who produced and helped write the track (but none of the others).

As wonderfully fun and surprisingly old school “Hurley” can get, there’s still a handful of problems to deal with as things progress. The song “Trainwrecks” is just that, seeming to be a pointed attack at hipsters or slackers or somebody. The issue isn’t so much what’s being said but more like how it’s being said. The verses get so bogged down in attempts at clever wordplay or simply complaining that the chorus gets buried and can’t really dig itself out. “Where’s My Sex?” is the one Weezer song on the album that’s remarkably plainful to listen to. The whole thing is a play on words, as Rivers’ daughter reportedly once pronounced the word “socks” as “sex” one day and it inspired the song-long joke that’s not funny after the first minute. That’s the one, like “Love Is The Answer” from “Raditude” or “We Are All On Drugs” from “Make Believe” that you don’t want to go near with a ten foot pole. And while “Smart Girls” is fun and bouncy like Weezer often do, the biggest mistake it makes is playing out like a crazy mad libs experiment. Before winding up on the official tracklisting for the album, the song was called “Hot Girls”, and if you replace “smart” with “hot” (or “dumb” or “crazy” or etc.) then the effect remains exactly the same. Lazy writing is to blame for that one, and Rivers collaborated with No Doubt’s Tony Kanal in writing it. Suddenly it makes more sense as to why it kind of sucks.

The biggest positive about “Hurley” is that Rivers wrote more of the songs on it than he has on the last couple Weezer records. Sure he’s been collaborating with other people for awhile now, but more of the words on this new album have that old Weezer flavor to them. And that helps to push “Hurley” far above the band’s last few records, towards a territory that’s reserved for those long time fanboys and fangirls holding out hope for another masterstroke akin to those first two efforts. The harsh reality is that we’ve been forced to accept so much crap from this band that when they rise even a little above average, it’s freak out time. Just because this is the best Weezer album in the past 8 or 9 years doesn’t mean it’s automatically amazing. Still, the band does much more right than wrong here, and though they continue to fall into their same old traps of recent times now and then, Weezer seems more humbled and smarter than they have in quite awhile. The explanation as to why will continue to remain a mystery, as nobody can definitively say that changing record labels or possibly partnering with a clothing company is the magic solution to getting back your mojo. Weezer’s not all the way where they need to be just yet, but after the sharp downward spiral they’ve been on these last several years, the biggest surprise is that they’re now starting to climb back up from that dark valley. It’s gonna be a long and arduous journey to the top again should they try for it, but at the very least it could be a fun one. Turn your brain off for awhile, crank up some “Hurley”, and do what you can to enjoy it. In terms of mainstream alternative rock today, you could do a whole lot worse.

Weezer – Memories

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Album Review: Brandon Flowers – Flamingo [Island/Def Jam]

The prospect of going solo after spending all your life in a band is a daunting one. As part of a group, you’ve got bandmates to lean on that will support you through every song and album and show. As we’ve seen time and time again though, there are plenty of personalities in a band and they don’t always lead to positive results. Bands break up because of clashes between members, and some of them are so difficult to work with they prefer the solo life. There’s also the solo side project, where a singer or guitarist (and on a rare occasion a drummer) breaks away from his or her bandmates for a variety of reasons. Sometimes it’s to explore a new sound the other band members aren’t comfortable with. Other times it makes the difference when some of the band wants time off for family or other issues and one person wants to keep going. But however they come about, solo projects are a normal part of everyday music, and they often reach varying degrees of success depending on if you’re Peter Gabriel or Franz Nicolay. Among higher profile bands recently, Radiohead’s Phil Selway just recently released his first solo effort, and Sleater-Kinney’s Corin Tucker will put out a solo album in a couple weeks. This week though, The Killers’ Brandon Flowers takes the plunge, and he does so by returning to some old territory the rest of his bandmates left behind.

After the very new wave/synth-heavy pop vibe of The Killers’ debut album “Hot Fuss”, the band chose to channel their inner Bruce Springsteens and go all dustbowl Americana for their second record “Sam’s Town”. That was not the move fans expected nor wanted, and while sales of that sophmore effort remained strong, most made it known they were dissatisfied with the shift in direction. That explains the course correction and a moderate “return to form” on the band’s third album “Day & Age”. With the decision to go on a temporary hiatus for 2010, frontman Brandon Flowers apparently decided he was bored and wanted to make some music his bandmates might otherwise not agree to. In other words, he was desperate to return to “Sam’s Town”. Not only does Flowers’ solo debut “Flamingo” have a similar sonic feel to it, but both album titles are taken from famous Las Vegas casinos/hotels. Call them two sides of the same coin if you will, the only real difference between then and now are the players involved.

Given how mixed reaction was to “Sam’s Town”, you could probably expect fans of The Killers to have a pretty divided stance on “Flamingo” as well. The very first thing you should know about this solo album is that it’s an extremely adult affair. The Killers make music that’s got a bit of fun to it, lots of flash and showmanship just like the bright lights of the Las Vegas Strip. “Flamingo” moves more from the perspective of a man who’s lived his entire life amid all that crazy grandeur and is now extremely jaded and tired of it. There’s a myriad of gambling references, starting of course with opening track “Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas” and only expanding from there (especially see: “Jilted Lovers and Broken Hearts”). Additionally, there’s a number of spiritual elements as well referencing back to his upbringing in the Mormon faith, among other things. Above all else though, the tone of the album, from the soaring and anthemic choruses even through the minor ones, is extremely serious. There’s not a single moment where Flowers lightens up or gives a proverbial wink and a smile to the listener that indicates he’s enjoying himself. As a result, there’s nothing even close to a “Somebody Told Me” on “Flamingo”. There’s not even a “When You Were Young” here. The closest this record has to a hit is with the first single “Crossfire”, which actually will stick in your head if you listen to it enough times. The two tracks leading up to that song are actually not bad either, with “Was It Something I Said?” breaking out some oddball bouncy synth energy amidst the relative lethargy of what preceeded it and “Magdalena” throwing in some Spanish love story flavor for variety. Most everything else is surprisingly forgettable and bland, seeming content to just ride along the middle of the road without much thought to experimentation or even really catchy hooks. Not even the wonderful Jenny Lewis contributing guest vocals to a track like “Hard Enough” can move it above merely average. Sonically speaking, the songs mostly stick with a traditional band arrangement, which means guitars and drums, though as with “Sam’s Town” there’s synths that pop up on occasion.

When The Killers were first starting out and reached massive popularity in a matter of months, Brandon Flowers often exhibited strange behavior on stage, like he was barely able to keep things together out of pure nervousness. The guy barely spoke to the crowd and when he did the banter was awkward because he was so uncomfortable. In the last 6 years, he has grown significantly more acclimated with performing and is better than before. He still doesn’t quite have the charisma he should being in a band of The Killers’ caliber, but taking it one day at a time he might just rise to the occasion. Now touring solo (with a backing band of completely unremarkable musicians), Flowers holds the entire burden of each show entirely on his shoulders. Without legitimate bandmates to lean on in those awkward moments, some fans might be disappointed with the performance. Assuming he sticks to solely performing the songs on “Flamingo” as well, that could be a problem too. Why Flowers continues to believe he can pull a Springsteen and do an Americana-by-way-of-Las-Vegas thing is a mystery because it more or less failed the first time in the form of “Sam’s Town”. Of course if you liked that record there’s a decent chance you’ll like “Flamingo”. The minor success of a single like “Crossfire” seems to indicate there are some people out there still interested in hearing what Flowers can do on his own. If it sells well enough, Flowers will probably make more solo albums in between Killers records. Send him a message by either not buying “Flamingo” or perhaps just cherry picking a couple songs that strike your interest. Much like forest fires, only you can prevent another Brandon Flowers solo record. The Killers themselves may not have released anything truly worthwhile since “Hot Fuss”, but it’s become clear is that no matter what they’re doing together, chances are it’s better than what they’ll do apart.

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Album Review: The Walkmen – Lisbon [Fat Possum]

Like riding in first class on an airplane or receiving VIP treatment at a fancy hotel or music festival, there are some life experiences that stick with you for awhile. Should you attempt to repeat the grand experience and fail though, it comes off as disappointing. Suddenly riding in coach seems too pedestrian now that you’ve been to first class. And things just aren’t as interesting when you can’t hang out back stage at a show or have fresh cut flowers delivered to your hotel room free of charge every morning. We get spoiled easily, and that ruins many of our future experiences. The first time I saw …And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead I was front and center against the stage as they destroyed everything on stage and invited the crowd to join them. Security had to pull me back as a microphone stand nearly bashed my head in. With adrenaline running high, I loved every life threatening second of that show, and every time I’ve gone to see the band since has been a disappointment. It is based around this reasoning I’ve made the executive decision to never see The Walkmen perform live again. Last month, I saw them twice in a span of 12 hours, the second of those times being at the ear-splitting front and center position. Watching singer Hamilton Leithauser belt out songs new and old to the rafters as the veins bulged out of his neck was simply thrilling and I’m pretty well convinced it’ll never be that good again. Good thing at that show the band played a bunch of tracks off their new record “Lisbon”, as it’s set to become the best thing they’ve released since 2004’s “Bows + Arrows”.

The Walkmen deal in misery, and hearing an upbeat or lighter record from the band would almost come off as disingenuous. Naturally then for “Lisbon” they stay within that range, though things do pick up a bit more than their last album “You & Me”. That’s not quite evident from the start, as “Juveniles” comes in at a slow crawl and deals in warmth and subtle emotional nuance. Of course The Walkmen are practically known for burying the lead in song, typically striking harder and faster with the second track in. Such is the case for “Angela Surf City”, the clearest highlight on the album and one of The Walkmen’s best tracks ever. You’ve got a subtle surf rock guitar, massive drums, and a chorus that builds upon itself as Leithauser brings it home with his whiskey-soaked wail. It’s a rare moment of sheer explosiveness from a band that typically holds back and stays in check. Almost as if they think they went too far, the following two songs return to the very subdued and calm nature they’re known for. “Stranded” provides a little bit of a lift with a grand horn section reminiscent of the band’s 2006 album “A Hundred Miles Off”. It maintains a mopey vibe but the brass really provides the added punch to lift the song to an above average status. What really sends the album soaring is “Victory”, another anthemic cut that feels as triumphant as the title suggests. The problem is, like so many Walkmen songs, the lyrics aren’t so much about winning as they are just barely losing. Still, don’t be surprised if you hear the song used in some sports-related win context within the next year, as somebody will have misunderstood what it’s about. Depressing as the title suggests, “Woe Is Me” is only a lyrical pity party, because a bit of surf rock guitar and a good tempo lift it to a toe tapping level of fun. “Torch Song” is another title that accurately describes the contents contained within, with the rich piano and bass bringing out the warmth of a few thousand lighters held high in the air, swaying back and forth. To be perfectly clear though, the track isn’t actually about longing for a lost love as most technical torch songs are, but rather the longing for a lost song, the right song to provide balance and meaning to a world of insanity. And as they tend to be something of a seasonal band, “While I Shovel the Snow” should be on your winter mixtape, the slow waltz rhythm matching well with the clean up of all those flakes that have landed on your driveway and sidewalk.

While they were recording “Lisbon”, The Walkmen made two trips to Portugal for primarily pleasure purposes. They fell in love with the country and its people, and a number of the songs were inspired by their experiences in the country. That’s also the main reason why the album is titled as such, a manner of thanking a city where they experienced so much magic. Interestingly enough, the songs themselves don’t seem to echo a lot of Portuguese musical influence, though you’d be hard-pressed to officially explain what a Portuguese musical influence actually sounds like. Really though, The Walkmen continue to sound like The Walkmen, as very few other bands are doing much similar to them these days. And though by now, a handful of records into their now 10-year careers, you might think it’s starting to get old, the quality these guys have been able to turn out time and time again remains inexplicably high. For peddling in misery and self-loathing, somehow Hamilton Leithauser still has more to say on the subject and his world-weary voice continues to provide the necessary emotion to convey it properly. Matt Barrick’s drum work remains as strong, if not stronger than ever no matter if he’s tapping on a snare or hammering down on some bass drums. Really everyone does stellar work on “Lisbon”, and in the wake of the also-great “You & Me” from a mere two years ago, The Walkmen are on something of a roll. They’re great live too, as I can readily attest, and some of these new songs are particularly exciting to experience with a large crowd on hand. So go see a show, go buy the record, and rest assured that while these songs will take you to a dark place, it’s okay to crack a smile when you come out the other side.

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Album Review: The Thermals – Personal Life [Kill Rock Stars]

The Thermals aren’t really about making any “small statements” with their music. Their records, at least the last few, have all featured overarching themes that took on topics like government, religion, and how we deal with tragedy. Not that one topic is better than the other or that these concepts are wearing progressively thinner, but it does seem the band’s high energy punk rock songs aren’t as effective (or energetic) as they used to be. Last year’s “Now We Can See” was great evidence that the band was having just a little bit of a hard time as they stumbled into a newfound maturity and pushed their hard-driving punk into something with a significantly smoother pop edge. For their new album “Personal Life”, The Thermals maintain much of the maturity they gained last time around but move away from that pop polish and rough up the edges a bit. The theme this time is relationships and all the good, bad and ugly that comes along with them. You could say that’s also how this collection of songs shakes out.

Okay, so there’s nothing particularly ugly or even bad about “Personal Life”, but there’s definitely moments that shine compared to others. Opening track “I’m Gonna Change Your Life” introduces us to the new reality of The Thermals, something a bit slower and almost testy, and if the song title is a mission statement it falls pretty flat. Things pick up almost instantly after that with first single “I Don’t Believe You”, which is easily one of the most fun and catchy songs the band has ever made. “Not Like Any Other Feeling” has some fascinating guitar work that may come off as a little fragile and tepid but that careful composure is also what makes it one of the most winning tracks on the album. A good second single would be “Your Love Is So Strong”, as its backing “oh”‘s really encourage a sing-along. Almost equally delighful is “Only For You”, which could benefit from a slight tempo increase but still pulls its weight with a compelling melody and emotional resonance. But in between all these triumphs and semi-triumphs are tracks that fail to strike with the necessary force to remain memorable. It’s about a half-and-half game of good and bad almost directly correlating in an alternating fashion track by track. It may be fine lyrically (most of the record is, as usual), but “Never Listen to Me” doesn’t do much instrumentally, with Kathy Foster’s bass line hitting the same notes over and over again and Harris’ electric guitar holding down a somewhat dragging tempo that’s close to but not quite danceable. “Alone, A Fool” is almost worth not mentioning, that’s how forgettable this acoustic ballad is. It drops in almost like a deadweight trying to pull the songs that surround it down with it. And though it fares a little better, “A Reflection” feels like just that, thinking out loud for a moment without so much as a chorus to go back to, just a constant stream of thought.

One of the things The Thermals tend to do great with on every outing are the lyrics, which Hutch Harris really gets to the heart of whatever subject he’s writing about. Any emotions outside of rage aren’t really felt in his vocals, but the wordplay is pretty fascinating each and every time. Compared to past Thermals outings, “Personal Life” doesn’t fare so well, and maybe one part of the problem is subject matter. When Harris rants against the government or organized religion, these are universal topics people tend to disagree on. Everybody has an opinion and whether or not you agreed with Harris at the very least he made his points with conviction. By taking on the topic of relationships, that’s less a debate and more a blatant truth. Everybody has been in a failed relationship at least once in their lives, and that’s a private concern between two individuals rather than a group or sect. It’s why the album title is what it is. But in minimizing the conflict it also minimizes the impact. Yes it’s still relatable on a mass spectrum but the experience is different for each person. That plus the calmer, downtempo moments turn “Personal Life” into a bit of a drag at parts. One could argue that these sorts of moments come with the territory of growing up, but if you look at a similar artist like Ted Leo who’s still cranking along with high impact punk rock tracks many years into his career, there’s proof it can be done. If The Thermals are looking for a hot button universal topic to tackle for their next effort, the environment might just be the thing to stir up some of that old fashioned rage Harris used to spit out like water from a faucet. “Personal Life” may be something of a wash, but grab a sponsorship from PETA and save some wildlife next time and things might just turn around for the little punk band from Portland that could.

The Thermals – I Don’t Believe You

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Album Review: The Acorn – No Ghost [Bella Union/Paper Bag]

Canadian pastoral folk band The Acorn first attracted a lot of attention with their 2007 album “Glory Hope Mountain”, a 12-track concept album that served as a loosely detailed account of the life of Gloria Esperanza Montoya aka singer Rolf Klausener’s mother. You didn’t need to be aware of the concept to enjoy that record, though it was supremely beneficial if you listened to the entire thing in one sitting. After some great reviews and a lengthy tour to support that last album, The Acorn retreated to a forest cottage in a desolate area of Northern Quebec to work on a follow-up. “No Ghost” is the result and it’s finally out in the U.S. this week, a collection of songs that continues in the band’s rich and gorgeous folk/Americana sound though this time without a singular theme to hold it all together.

At their core, The Acorn aren’t doing much new on “No Ghost”, and that’s both compared to their past releases as well as just in general compared to other similar artists. They’re almost a Canadian version of Grizzly Bear, but with a little more breathing room. Grizzly Bear get so carefully constrained with their songs you could fit them in a neat little box, while The Acorn go all expansive and open field more often than not. But the harmonies are often there, though with less emphasis on them and more on the delicate melodies that the acoustic guitars and a handful of other instruments provide. With less of a thematic element to tie everything together this time, the band is able to focus more on individual songs and throw in a little diversity to their highly traditional style. They use electric guitars a bit more among other things, and the energy is higher and lighter than on past efforts. There’s some feedback and a little bit of electronic noise that factors into opening track “Cobbled From Dust”, though if you weren’t paying close attention it’d be easy to miss those things. “Restoration” is a jaunty finger-picked acoustic track with rimshot percussion that’s simply a delight. Electric guitars actually ruin the serene folk of “I Made the Law”, snatching away what started out as something beautiful and turning it into something with classic rock undertones that just doesn’t fit with the rest of the record. “Crossed Wires” might be the closest thing to a normal indie rock song The Acorn have ever written, with a fast bass pushed up to the front of the mix and a piano gliding along barely in the background. There’s just enough of an off-kilter rhythm though that keeps the song from reaching its full catchy potential. Still, it’s got an almost Neutral Milk Hotel-type charm to it that makes for one of the more exciting tracks on the album. The same could be said of “Bobcat Goldwraith” with its very tribal beats and outright enthusiasm. There’s a horn section that slips in every now and then that really pushes things even farther in the right direction. The title track is an interesting piece of scattershot music, kicking off with some rough electric guitar and electronic noise before breaking down into something a little folkier. It’s almost like the band is channeling a louder version of Animal Collective but not quite getting everything just right. In other words, a noble attempt at experimenting that only partly works out. By contrast, the acoustic alt-country balladry of “Slippery When Wet” is a delight and a return to what The Acorn does best. “Almanac” takes things just a little too far in that direction though, fixating on lots of silent moments between the sparse acoustic guitars, drum rimshots and vocal harmonies. As gorgeous as the song is, it still feels a little frozen in place by not moving beyond where it starts.

For fans of bands like Fleet Foxes, Midlake, Grizzly Bear and more than 2 dozen other folk-driven acts around today, The Acorn is another notch for your belt to grab onto. If you’ve not yet heard any music by this band before and like their sort of music, nothing should be holding you back. What will hold some back is knowing that everything The Acorn does sounds familiar, probably because somebody else has done it before. They’re not the most unique or intensely brilliant band around. Instead they take an all-too overused musical genre and continue to breathe life into it. Their songs are often immensely gorgeous and there’s absolutely merit in that, even if the lyrics can be a bit of a hodgepodge mess at times. “No Ghost” is the ideal record for a day of relaxation outdoors with the sun out and nature on display around you. Given that fall has unofficially started now, it’s also great for watching the leaves change color. “Glory Hope Mountain” may continue to be the gold standard of Acorn albums, but at the very least this new one proves that brilliance wasn’t just some flash in the pan. Keep an eye on these guys, they could very well be going places in the next few years.

The Acorn – Restoration
The Acorn – No Ghost

Buy “No Ghost” from Amazon

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