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Album Review: Yuck – Yuck [Fat Possum]

On 02/22/2011

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

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

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

Yuck – Georgia
Yuck – Rubber

Buy “Yuck” from Amazon

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

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

By Faronheit

On 02/15/2011

In album review, BNM, music

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

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

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

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

PJ Harvey – Written On The Forehead

Buy “Let England Shake” from Amazon

Album Review: Cut Copy – Zonoscope [Modular]

By Faronheit

On 02/10/2011

In album review, BNM, mp3, music

First and foremost, Australian band Cut Copy are all about the dance floor. The numerous labels affixed to their sound, be it dance rock, dance pop, synth pop, electronica, etc., don’t matter so much as knowing that if you put on a Cut Copy record, there’s little chance you’ll be able to avoid moving at least one part of your body to the beat. But in addition to those intense grooves, they’re also extremely adept at crafting hooks that stick with you long after the music has stopped. Their last album, 2008’s “In Ghost Colours”, was plentiful in all those ways, and tracks like “Lights and Music” and “Hearts On Fire” were more than just great cuts to play in the club – they were anthems worth playing in some huge spaces. That record also had a very “night out” feel to it, perfect to play when the neon lights were aglow and you’re cruising the city in a flashy suit or sparkly dress. The band is back at it again this week with their third full length “Zonoscope”, and it’s a lighter, brighter affair that scales back the massive choruses just a little in an effort to produce something a little more intelligent and cohesive than what they’ve done before.

“Zonoscope” opens with the uplifting “Need You Now”, a 6+ minute track that starts with a relatively basic beat and builds to an explosion of light and energy that’s just plain thrilling. There’s a distinct 80s pop vibe to “Take Me Over”, and it’s no wonder considering that much of the melody is just a dressed up dance version of Fleetwood Mac’s “Everywhere” with new lyrics. Cut Copy make it their own, though it does have what feels like a Blondie vibe too (think “Heart of Glass”). And in what becomes a running theme through the course of the record, “Take Me Over” transitions flawlessly into first single “Where I’m Going” without looking back. Thanks largely to the backing vocals and a little bit of a psychedelic edge, “Where I’m Going” comes across like a beat-heavy Beach Boys classic. The track has such a sunny disposition to it, with the energetic shouts of “Yeah!” during the insanely catchy chorus, that you’ll fall in love with it almost immediately. Altogether it makes for one of the best songs of a young 2011, and at this point in time it’s difficult to think of how much else could surpass its brilliance.

The way the keyboards and splashes of cowbell are used on “Pharaohs and Pyramids”, along with the eventual wind-up and breakdown in the final 1:45 of the song, there’s something about the track that transports you to a classic club setting. It feels like something a band like Delorean would put out, though three things actually push this song to an entirely higher level. First is the beginning of the track, which holds a Talking Heads-ish stature before the chorus strikes the first time. Second is the end of the track, which courtesy of some carefully placed bass guitar brings to mind New Order in the best possible ways. And thirdly, Dan Whitford’s vocals convey just the right emotions compared to the tempo and overall arrangement. If a record like this could actually get away with going a bit sentimental, this is the closest Cut Copy get and it works beautifully. Not just because of the title, “Blink and You’ll Miss A Revolution” owes some contemporary debts to LCD Soundsystem and !!!, as both bands have similar markers that are on display in the track. The bits of xylophone and violin are nice Cut Copy touches though, bringing just a little extra wink and a smile to the party.

Guitars begin to factor in much more heavily on the second half of the album. “This Is All We’ve Got” brings in some almost shoegaze-inspired hazy electrics amidst the twinkling electronics for what ultimately becomes a very lovely ballad. That leads to a silky smooth transition into “Alisa”, which is by far the most guitar-centric song on the entire record. At its core the song is reminiscent of Echo and the Bunnymen mixed with David Bowie and My Bloody Valentine. It’s still very pop-driven and danceable, but darker and again with the shoegaze edge. Acoustic guitars show up for a bit on the ballad “Hanging Onto Every Heartbeat”, blending pretty effortlessly with the spacier electro bits and synths. For some reason the band Yes comes to mind whenever I hear that song, and the comparison may very well be justified in this case. “Zonoscope” ends on a pretty wild note, with the 15+ minute “Sun God”. The track is essentially a showcase for everything they’ve done on the album up until that point, moving from a slightly uptempo pop song into a blissed out instrumental. The good news is that there’s very few dead spots across that 15 minute runtime. The bad news is that there’s very little justification for why the song exists in the first place as it primarily feels like an extended club remix of a normal Cut Copy song. Given what you’ve been listening to for the previous 45 minutes, such a thing can’t be considered bad, just a little underwhelming considering what came before it.

This is not the best time of year to be releasing a dance album, but that’s probably only relevant if you live in a place where the weather gets cold and snowy in February. Of course it’s always hot inside dance clubs no matter where you are, with crowds of sweaty bodies rubbing up against one another. “Zonoscope” is less of a club record than Cut Copy’s last one, but that doesn’t make it any less good. The more tempered approach taken by the band this time puts better overall composition on display, which in turn also does well in elevating moods. If you’re suffering from seasonal affective disorder and a daily dose of sunshine just isn’t doing the job, this album is like the audio version of that. Even once the weather improves and you’re outside in some blistering heat, you’ll still feel motivated to dance if you turn this record on. What Cut Copy lacks in the emotional connection that LCD Soundsystem does so well, they more than make up for with dynamic pop hooks and flawless transitions that work so well portions of the album feel like one long slice of beat-infused bliss. If you can appreciate such things, “Zonoscope” will likely be one of your favorite albums of 2011. So far, it’s most definitely one of mine.

Cut Copy – Need You Now

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

Buy “Zonoscope” from Amazon

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

By Faronheit

On 02/08/2011

In album review, BNM, music

If you pay close attention to the hype cycles around the music world, there’s a great chance you’ve heard of James Blake. The 23-year-old British artist/producer began to make a name for himself last year when he released three EPs of music that’s often been described as “dubstep”. The word is in quotes there because the definition of dubstep varies from person to person and in the end is probably not the best word to use when talking about James Blake’s sound anyways. What he did on those EPs was to craft a subtle electro-based dance landscape from synths and vocoders and a host of other very modern computer-related bits, and then typically added vocal samples from a number of old school R&B artists ranging from Aaliyah to R. Kelly. Oftentimes those vocals were so mangled or chopped up that you couldn’t tell who the original artist was anyways. It was fascinating stuff, and original enough to get him not only noticed but the subject of a number of “2011 Artists to Watch” lists. The assertion was only supported further by Blake’s cover of Feist’s “Limit to Your Love” that came out late last year as an advance single from his self-titled debut record. Oddly enough, his version of the song, which paired very sparse piano and his own voice, was pretty different from his prior EP work. It also turned out that Blake’s voice, which had been used very sparingly on the EPs, had a certain fragility and emotion locked within it, drawing easy comparisons to Justin Vernon of Bon Iver and Antony Hegarty.

For his debut full-length, James Blake foregoes any vocal samples from other artists, along with some of the more danceable moments of his earlier EPs. Instead he’s made what amounts to a quiet exercise in minimal, somber electronica paired with some serious soul/R&B influence. He sings on most every track, though you can’t always call what he does singing considering how distorted or chopped up it gets. That’s part of what makes this album unique – it’s the way he’s able to blend some of the most classic elements in music with some of the most advanced technology available today. A great reference point for the sound would be to say that it’s like if Burial, How to Dress Well and Bon Iver had a baby. Opening track “Unluck” plods along with some synths and the slow click of a metronome while there’s some skittering electronic percussion that sounds a lot like a spray paint can being shook up and periodically applied to a brick wall. Blake’s soulful vocals are heavily run over with Autotune, to the point where it’s just a little tough to understand what he’s saying. But as things move along the synths build and then fade and Blake’s voice begins to build upon itself until there are multiple Autotuned versions singing either in unison or working a harmony angle that’s halting, weird, haunting and beautiful. Similar to how Kanye West repurposed Bon Iver’s “Woods” for the track “Lost in the World”, “Unluck” takes that same concept in the opposite direction, instead of making a club banging rap track it remains a somber meditation with dragging electro-beats and synths instead. “I don’t know about my dreams/I don’t know about my dreamin’ anymore/All that I know is I’m fallin’, fallin’, fallin’, fallin'” are the lines repeated over and over again for the duration of “The Wilhelm Scream” (along with “love” replacing all the “dreams”). It’s an aching and clear vocal from Blake, spread atop some quiet synths and laid back beats. The more times Blake runs through those lines though, the louder the noise behind him becomes, until eventually the synths and the beats overtake his vocal, leaving him just an echo in the distance, before dropping out quickly back to their original quiet state. Despite the lack of variation in the lyrics, Blake’s repetition goes a long way towards forcing the song to be memorable, and there’s enough going on in the background to prevent it from becoming an annoyance. In that sense there’s a little bit of genius in the song.

On “I Never Learnt to Share”, there’s even fewer lyrics to go on, as the lines, “My brother and my sister don’t speak to me/but I don’t blame them” are again repeated ad nauseum. Blake’s vocal is the only thing you hear the first three times he runs through the lyrics, but each time adds another overdubbed harmony to increase the complexity and beauty of it. Once that’s clear, the synths and a beat come in low at first before finally building to a somewhat loud and vibrant lyricless final minute that’s just as interesting as the 4 minutes of development that preceeded it. The Autotune is once again very liberally applied to “Lindisfarne I”, a track that is 99% vocals, save for about 4 or 5 single keyboard notes that brush across the sonic palette in the last 45 seconds of the 2.5+ minute duration. The point of the song is less about the lyrics, which are again indecipherable, or even the strength of the singing really. These things are more of a means to an end, the ultimate goal being to explore the pregnant pauses between the words. At some moments Blake finishes a line and then purposely waits just long enough in silence to make it uncomfortable before dishing out the next one. If it sounds like some pretentious bullshit chances are it is, but the restraint and calculation of it is pretty damn impressive. The sequel “Lindisfarne II” is still Autotuned, but in a way where you can understand more lyrics, and with some backing beats and a quietly strummed (but distorted in the background) acoustic guitar. Blake’s cover of Feist’s “Limit to Your Love” is the centerpiece of the record and the most straightforward thing you’ll hear on it as well. His clear vocals are strikingly great and dramatic, his cadence exactly the same as Feist’s on her original. The lush, symphonic elements of the original are stripped back to just piano and voice, though with a couple small electro-noise interludes between the lines. It’s tough to outdo Feist on her own song, but Blake’s very sensitive and quiet approach to the track brings a special quality to it you won’t find anywhere else.

The second half of the record features a number of odd choices that challenge as much as they confound. The very brief “Give Me My Month” is yet another piano and voice track that matches up very well next to “Limit to My Love”, and it’s one of the few moments of respite before things go off the deep end. “To Care (Like You)” is a glitchy electro-synth track that sees Blake manipulating his voice to sound somewhere between a woman and a child for about half of it, essentially creating one odd duet between his regular voice and the severely tweaked one. They switch off what might be considered verses in a very strange but lyrically strong love song. Remember when everyone carried around Discman portable CD players instead of iPods? The biggest flaw with the portable CD player was always when you were doing something active with it or accidentally dropped it in the middle of a song and it’d skip. That was sometimes even the case if your CD was scratched up enough. The track you were listening to would skip around, searching for the next clean spot to keep playing at. The experience would often give a song a disjointed feel, and courtesy of the songs “Why Don’t You Call Me” and “I Mind”, James Blake exploits this issue to no end. “Why Don’t You Call Me” begins as a simple piano and vocal song before getting chopped about. With a simple auditory click you’ll find yourself in the middle of a lyric or chord already struck and being held, and it’d be cause to worry if it wasn’t the same on every format you can listen to the album on. While “I Mind” is very similar, it uses the various chops in audio to create an interesting sort of lyricless groove that works a tiny bit better than you might imagine. It’s one of the few genuine moments on the album that feels like Blake’s 2010 EP stuff, though he’s sampling/cutting his own voice rather than anyone else’s. To close things out, “Measurements” has a very gospel-like feel to it, with some soft and sparse synths assisting a gigantic choir of all James Blakes. He must have overdubbed his voice about 10-15 times to achieve the effect, with everything from baritones to sopranos mixed in and even a touch of Autotune. And as the track drifts off into the night, the synths make their quiet exit, leaving you with just Blake and the many versions of himself. It’s a pretty gorgeous way to end the album and provides a very accurate auditory representation of the hazy photo of Blake that is the album cover. Even when the whole thing is finished you’re still left wondering just what version of James Blake is the real one.

There’s so much that can be said about James Blake, and much of it will either confuse you or just plain give you the wrong impression. What’s written here is probably no different, as this self-titled album is a challenge and a half to describe accurately. It’s a big part of what makes Blake such a compelling artist though, because he defies easy labels or cliches. There’s not much of any song structure or set format across the entire record, even if he does use a lot of the same tools over and over again. Between Autotune and lower register, subdued synths and various slow beats, you’d think a modicum of stability would be established at some point. Just the differences between his EPs and this full length are striking, let alone from track to track. Yet it’s those same elements, purposed and repurposed on the album that provide it with a solid base from which to work. The use of technology to update classic sounds as well, plays a huge part in what makes Blake so original. This Autotuned, electro version of old school soul and R&B can be a bit off-putting and bothersome, especially to long-time devotees of those genres, but the subversion is remarkably refreshing if that’s something you’re looking for. Similarly, this may be the very first album that’s able to use the highly robotic and emotionally stunted Autotune and give it real warmth and feeling. Partial credit goes to Blake’s dramatic singing voice, but the other half is with how he arranges it, either with overdubs and harmonies or with backing melodies that provide ample assistance in that task. Putting all of these varying factors together makes James Blake’s debut album one of the best and most interesting things released so far this year. Given how odd it is, a wide range of reactions is to be expected, but if you’ve got a great degree of appreciation for slow, quiet and innovative music, Blake might be one of your new favorites. Now then – where does he go from here?

Buy “James Blake” from Amazon MP3

Album Review: Destroyer – Kaputt [Merge]

By Faronheit

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

By Faronheit

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.

Buy “Kiss Each Other Clean” from Amazon

Album Review: Tennis – Cape Dory [Fat Possum]

By Faronheit

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.

Tennis – Seafarer
Tennis – Baltimore (7″ version)

Buy “Cape Dory” from Amazon

Album Review: Jónsi – Go Live

By Faronheit

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.

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

Album Review: Kanye West – My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy [Def Jam/Roc-A-Fella]

By Faronheit

On 11/30/2010

In album review, BNM, chicago, music

Nobody is denying that Kanye West is controversial. The guy steals headlines for doing shit like calling George W. Bush out, claiming he “doesn’t care about black people”. He throws temper tantrums at awards shows when he doesn’t win things he was nominated for, and on occasion when other people don’t win things he felt they should have. It was after that whole Taylor Swift incident and the subsequent backlash that West really began to realize the world doesn’t bend to his every whim and desire. Well, he probably knew that before, but refused to give the thought much creedence. He wrote missives on his website about it, essentially apologizing and confessing that he needs to take a hard look at himself and work on both controlling his anger and thinking before speaking. It was the start of a self-imposed hiatus of sorts, where he disappeared from the media, from having an online presence, from showing up at friends’ shows to make surprise cameos. He went to Hawaii, one of the most beautiful and relaxed places on Earth, and found some mental health. Playing out like your traditional movie plotline, Kanye reached the low point where all hope may have seemed lost. His storied quest to become the greatest artist that ever lived hit its biggest speedbump as suddenly he had turned from hero to villain. Given the outspoken and completely honest manner in which he’s conducted himself since the very beginning of his rise to fame though, West has probably been playing the villain for some people longer than others.

Everyone loves a tale of redemption though, and after a few months of down time and personal reflection, Kanye West began working on a proper follow-up to his last record, 2008’s “808s and Heartbreak”. There were rumblings of a record reportedly titled “Good Ass Job” that was tentatively scheduled for release in mid-2010, but that failed to happen. Instead, West officially re-emerged from exile by showing up at Facebook and Twitter headquarters to do some impromptu a capella performances of some new material. Videos began to pop up online, and that sparked some interest. Soon after began the G.O.O.D. Fridays, in which West would give away free mp3s of new music once a week, thereby earning him loads of good will and renewed respect. It would have been largely for naught had the tracks he was handing out sucked, but as Kanye himself would probably tell you, “sucking” isn’t really in his vocabulary. The big comeback tour also included a stop by the MTV Video Music Awards, where just a year earlier his on-stage interruption was what sparked his fall from grace. Performing new track “Runaway” completely solo, West spouted off lines like “Let’s have a toast for the douchebags/Let’s have a toast for the assholes/Let’s have a toast for the scumbags”. It was pretty self-deprecating with just a hint of remorse for being one of those douchebag asshole scumbag jerkoffs. And so, Kanye West is officially back, the spotlight firmly on him once again with the much-delayed but finally released fifth album “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” officially landing last week. It’s almost as if he wanted to make sure it was out just in time for all those year-end “Best of” lists.

If there’s one thing we’ve learned about Kanye West over his last few years and albums, it’s that he doesn’t do small. Case in point, the music video for his 9-minute opus “Runaway” officially runs 35 minutes and features such spectacles as fireworks and a parade. “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” runs in a similar fashion, taking a mere 13 tracks and extending out to a grand 70 minutes. Eight of the songs extend beyond the five minute mark, and a couple of the shorter ones are merely interludes attached to bigger main tracks. Take the track “All the Lights” as one of the sharpest examples of excess, with over 42 people getting credit as having contributed something to the final product. There’s a whole brass section, strings, some woodwinds and about a dozen guest vocalists, most of which are impossible to pick out individually. The track itself is deceptively simple on the surface, but a close and studied listen reveals layers that go far beyond what any reasonable person might expect. So it goes for much of the record, jumping through a multitude of stylistic hoops with a who’s-who of guests that include everyone from Jay-Z to Nicki Minaj to Rick Ross and the WTF-ness of Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon. Thankfully most of the Auto-Tune madness that completely covered “808s and Heartbreak” has vanished, though in its place are plenty of other vocal manipulations. “Gorgeous” has West sounding like he’s gone all flat with his vocals hit with a pretty strong mono filter that makes you wonder what hip hop would have sounded like were there recordings of it in the 50s and 60s. There’s also the robotic vocal breakdown near the end of “Runaway” and just a slice of Auto-Tune on “Lost in the World” thanks more to the sampling of Bon Iver’s “Woods” than anything else. But “Blame Game” features the greatest vocal acrobatics, as West’s voice goes from slow to fast to just plain weird speeds all over an Aphex Twin piano sample. It’s also one of his bleakest tracks to date, taking the album’s title and rendering it completely true from a lyrical perspective.

Kanye West spends much of “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” talking about some heavy-handed topics. While getting into superhero lore on “POWER”, West also gets into a commentary about his increased loss of innocence and childlike wonder. There was a certain playfulness that took over on his first couple records, but it’s not like thoroughly depressing (but confrontational and real) topics are new ground for him. Hell, “808s and Heartbreak” was a record born out of a tragic breakup and his mother’s death. It was not a fun experience in the least. The fun on this new record really comes in the form of pure indulgence. Whether that means drinking and partying as much as you want or sleeping with a LOT of women, these are topics motivated purely by the pleasure centers of our brain. They’re also the part of the same section that houses the angry and violent urges as well, which is why on “Blame Game” he tells a girl he misses both fucking her and choking her. One assumes the choking bit is a sexual thing, but he says it with such malicious intent that it’s difficult to know where to draw the line. Similarly, “All the Lights” comes across as a celebration of fame but also deals with the perils and pitfalls that go along with it. It’s less “I’m so famous, I’ve had to stop trying to grocery shop” and more “Restraining order/Can’t see my daughter”. This highlights the dichotomy that weighs on this record from start to finish. For every light there is a dark. For every good there is a bad. For every hero there is a villain. For every beautiful fantasy there is a dark and twisted reality. Kanye West is and is about all of these things, and the public perception of him is just as divided. We can see ourselves in it too, which is what makes West such a powerful force in music today. There’s always the intensely relatable moments, like somebody’s reading straight out of our diaries, but thanks to his unfiltered perspective, sometimes West also goes on about the things we WISH we could do or say but wouldn’t dare on account of social convention or what effect it’d have on the way others see us. West gets away with it because he’s one of the few people that simply doesn’t care…or at least not as much as we do.

For inquiring ears that simply have to know, “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” is a hip hop achievement of the highest order. Hell, it’s a musical achievement of the highest order. Kanye West once again proves he’s one of, if not the best and most talented artists in music today no matter if he’s got love from the general public or not. The whole Taylor Swift thing? You might as well wipe that from your memory because not only are both artists involved sick and tired of talking about it, but they both have extremely well-received new records that deserve your undivided attention. The one thing you can never accuse Kanye West of being is unambitious, and this new album weighs in as a highlight reel of great moments from his past, taking place in the present, with a sharp outlook towards the future. Of course where he’ll go next is anybody’s guess, but at the moment he’s taking a page straight out of his song “Stronger”. With his personal and professional life in complete shambles, West took a step back, assessed the situation, and has risen from the ashes better than ever before. Haters be damned, Kanye West is here to stay. Now if only somebody could get him to shut up about it.

Buy “My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” from Amazon
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EP Review: Girls – Broken Dreams Club [True Panther]

By Faronheit

On 11/11/2010

In BNM, EP, music

Last year was very much about Girls. The duo of Christopher Owens and JR White made a whole lot of waves in 2009 thanks to their well-received debut record, ironically titled “Album”. Flanked by the two strong singles of “Lust for Life” and “Hellhole Ratrace”, Girls have become known for sunny pop with a strong 60s influence – great for a day at the beach or catching some waves. So after a year’s worth of touring around the world, including a high profile set at this year’s Pitchfork Music Festival, the band wants to send a love letter back to the fans that have supported them here there and everywhere. They’ve earned enough money for a proper trip to a recording studio and are eager to show everyone just how they’ve progressed. The result is the “Broken Dreams Club” EP, a six-song, 30 minute collection of songs that really is a celebration of diversity, change and the inevitable compromises we all make when things don’t work out the way we planned.

The “Broken Dreams Club” EP opens with “Thee Oh So Protective One”, a track that feels carved out of time itself, with Owens channeling his best Buddy Holly voice and the vibe being decidedly 50s in nature. It’d be the perfect sort of song to play at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance from “Back to the Future”. As the first piece of evidence that Girls are starting to turn into “young women” (pun 100% intended), the song is also spiked with a horn section that’s both surprising and a delight. As a new single and something that’s been played at Girls’ live shows since “Album” first was released, “Heartbreaker” is a delight. The guitars are remarkably crisp, and the light touches of keyboard with the harmonized chorus just adds a little extra magic to an already catchy and seemingly light song. Of course the stark reality is that the song is anything but bright and sunny, the title alone gives that away. Owens’ sad sack vocals are also another clue, as his ability to convey emotion with a simple chorus and the word “why?” is remarkably great. The five minute title track is a ballad measured out in slide guitar and wistful trumpet, and a splash of organ really brings out Girls’ alt-country side. It winds up falling somewhere between Wilco and Band of Horses…if they used trumpets. The horns show up again on “Alright”, though the jangly guitars really make the melody what it is. What turns the song really interesting is how free form and non-linear it is, largely negating a catchy chorus and verses to simply groove for a bit and keep your toe tapping. The entire second half of the song is just full-on instrumental, save for some echo-laden “oohs” and “aahs”, and for just a moment it feels exactly like something Broken Social Scene would do. Surf rock grooves come on board for “Substance”, which is either an ode to drugs, giving up on life, or both. “Who wants something real/when you could have nothing?/Why not just give up?/Who wants to try?” Owens sings, later proclaiming “I take the key in my hand and it takes the pain away”. The song’s not something you exactly want to be playing when trying to boost your mood, but then again neither are most Girls songs. The nearly 8 minute atmospheric jam session that is the EP closer “Carolina” takes the psychedelic path of least resistance. Effectively trippy is a good way to describe the song, and the main lyrical and catchy chorus portions of it are sitting right in between two instrumental ends. The issue with that midsection is that the way Owens sings it brings up strong memories of the “Album” track “Ghost Mouth”. Listen to both tracks back to back and try to determine how many vocal notes in the choruses are different. I’m willing to be it’s very few. Still, “Carolina” is a very good track and a rather cool way to finish the EP.

There’s great news for Girls fans on this “Broken Dreams Club” EP. The band takes a few steps towards improving their fidelity and diversity of sound, but come off no worse for the wear. In other words, it seems like they are taking the next logical steps forward, and it will likely work to their advantage once again for their sophmore album. There’s not really a clunker among this bunch, even if there’s some interesting stylistic variations. The very innocent 50s-inspired way that “Thee Oh So Protective One” introduces the EP may be effective, but the sharpest moments still remain in some of the catchier, faster-paced songs. “Heartbreaker” is arguably their third best song to date, even if it feels drawn from the same cloth that their debut was. It’s a track like “Alright” that really stands out though, relying much more on atmosphere and a groove than a verse-chorus-verse structure. Chances are that won’t be where Girls go next, but if they do it could yield something truly brilliant and innovative for them. As it stands though, you need to get this EP if you even like Girls a little bit. It’s the perfect little stopgap between where they were as a band before and where they might be headed next. Even more exciting times are ahead for this band, I can feel it.

Preorder the “Broken Dreams Club” EP from Amazon

EP Review: The Tallest Man On Earth – Sometimes The Blues Is Just A Passing Bird [Dead Oceans]

By Faronheit

On 11/09/2010

In BNM, EP, mp3, music, pitchfork music festival 2010

Earlier this year, Kristian Matsson released “The Wild Hunt”, his second album under the moniker The Tallest Man on Earth. It remains one of the strongest releases of 2010, highly engaging andworking with the most basic tools of a singer-songwriter platform. Armed with just an acoustic guitar (or occasionally a piano) and a voice, Matsson’s singing and songwriting style both have echoes of early Bob Dylan in the best sorts of ways. The songs evoke the desolate highways of America, lined on both sides by nothing but sun, sand and cacti as you roll past in your car. All this from a guy that has called Sweden home for his entire life. For those that just couldn’t get enough of Matsson’s sparse folk stylings, he’s yet another artist pulling double duty this year by releasing additional music in the form of an EP. While you’d expect such small collections of tracks to be castoffs or b-sides, Matsson claims the songs that appear on “Sometimes The Blues Is Just A Passing Bird” were all written this past summer after “The Wild Hunt” was released. And while these five songs are supposed to function as a standalone collection representative of a certain place and time, they tend to fall right in line with what we’ve come to expect from The Tallest Man on Earth, though with a small surprise or two.

One little difference between “The Wild Hunt” and the “Sometimes The Blues Is Just A Passing Bird” EP is overall mood. All the hallmarks of The Tallest Man on Earth’s sound are there, including the complex acoustic guitar picking and relatively cryptic but always fascinating lyrics, yet the new EP is a bit of a darker affair. Matsson sounds more reflective and down on his luck than before, and that results in songs that forego much of the triumphant melodies found on the last album. The exploration of this heavier emotion is primarily only limited to the lyrics though, as there’s still some pep in his guitar. Speaking of that, if this EP contains one singular shocker, it’s the use of electric guitar on “The Dreamer”. For two albums, Matsson never once picked up an electric guitar, and perhaps as part of an experiment, he does so here. There’s a tiny bit of reverb thrown in for good measure too, and the whole thing is pretty unexpected. For a guy that makes his living with just one instrument and a voice, a change like that is a big deal, even if the quality stays consistent (which it does). He could have done virtually the same thing with his acoustic (minus the reverb) and it would have been right in line with the rest of the EP. Why he “went electric” that one time remains a mystery, and while the difference is a little jarring, there’s a strange comfort to see him mixing it up too.

As a full EP of original songs, “Sometimes The Blues Is Just A Passing Bird” is yet another delightful release from The Tallest Man on Earth. What he takes from these songs in regards to future releases remains to be seen, but so long as Kristian Matsson continues to measure out his music in a modest and heartfelt way, he’ll continue to be an artist worth paying attention to. He’s ostensibly proof that the folk singer-songwriter format isn’t dead, just in need of a strong voice and smart guitar player. There’s very good reason why you’ll get deadly silent crowds at Tallest Man on Earth shows, and it’s not just because they’re all trying to hear. The guy could be playing at your local Starbucks and people would wait to order so as to not interrupt a song. Simply put, not only is the music itself impressive, but the way it’s presented is as well. The albums and this EP give you a pretty good set of expectations, and the live show delivers on those in spades. If you’ve not heard The Tallest Man on Earth before, get at least one of his albums first. Then buy this EP. Then go see him live. They’re all essentials for an artist that may very well be our next Bob Dylan, albeit without the political bent.

The Tallest Man on Earth – Like the Wheel

Buy the “Sometimes The Blues Is Just A Passing Bird” EP from Dead Oceans

Album Review: The 1900s – Return of the Century [Parasol]

By Faronheit

On 11/04/2010

In album review, BNM, chicago, mp3, music

Let’s keep this straight, because it’s somewhat easy to get the two confused: there are two great indie bands making music right now. The first is The 1990s, and they’re a three-piece from Scotland. They’ve put out two records, 2007’s “Cookies” and 2009’s “Kicks”. The other band is the 1900s, and they’re a Chicago-based six piece. Their first album also came out in 2007 and was titled “Cold and Kind”, and last year they released the follow-up EP “Medium High”. The EP was more of a transitional piece however, something to keep fans interested as the band prepped their sophmore album “Return of the Century”, which sees release this week. It comes after a very tumultuous period for the band, in which they dropped two founding members and took some time recruiting proper replacements. All the in-fighting of the past couple years has resulted in a much stronger band dynamic overall though, in accordance with the “what doesn’t kill you…” mentality. They’ve also refined their sound a little bit, pushing away from the looser, more psychedelic elements of their debut and attempting something much more delicate and pop-friendly.

True to that promise, “Return of the Century” plays like a lighthearted indie pop record. None of the songs ever reach the four minute mark, hooks and choruses are everywhere, and grand orchestral swells are kept at bay. On “Cold and Kind”, there were guitar solos and small jam sessions, in addition to string sections and other extraneous elements. What was really impressive about that sound was how all those elements came together and created a very vibrant and relatively exciting collection of songs. It helped to put The 1900s on a lot of radars despite being signed to the wonderful (but small) Parasol Records. By contrast, “Return of the Century” sounds sparse. Violinist Andra Kulans is about the only strings player on the album, and she’s used much more sparingly and gently than in the past. Everything else is straight guitar and keyboards. On the surface then, this record can come across as being overly simplistic or just plain cliched within the confines of what’s become a standardized indie pop sound. What separates and elevates The 1900s from their peers in this case are two main things. First and foremost, the album is nothing short of lean. Everything is packed so neatly into each song that you can’t imagine how adding to or stretching what’s already there would make them better. It’s about focus, and The 1900s have found theirs in the best sort of way. Secondly, the vocal performances are simply out of this world good. The band has three contributing vocalists in Edward Anderson, Caroline Donovan and Jeanine O’Toole, and though one of them takes the lead on each song, the other two are always right there playing backup with intense harmonies or call-and-response scenarios. In turn a number of the tracks come off with a distinct Belle and Sebastian-esque appeal, though you can certainly hear a bit of The New Pornographers in there as well.

Highlights on “Return of the Century” are notoriously hard to come by, but that’s largely because as delightful as it is in three minute chunks, it ultimately works best as a cohesive whole of a record. When hard-pressed to pick those stand-out moments, single and opening track “Amulet” strikes immediately with an intense combination of piano, acoustic guitar, hand claps, violin and vocal harmonies. It’s a fun little toe-tapper that certainly has the potential to be a breakout hit should the right people latch onto it. Personally I might place it among the best songs of 2010. Elsewhere the near-ballad “Tucson” hits the right emotional notes vocally and possesses some of the strongest lyrics on the album. “Bmore” is notable for its three-part vocal harmonies for much of the song, and the couple of interesting left turns it makes structurally before finishing on a gorgeous high note. The same could be said for “Babies”, though the final coda breakdown into this remarkable freight train of a melody shows hints that the band responsible for “Cold and Kind” is still in there somewhere, even if things stop just short of a full-on guitar solo freak out.

At this point in the year, new music releases are supposed to be all downhill, slowly petering out to make way for the December compilation records and year-end lists. Really releasing your album anytime after the end of October is potentially problematic because you want as many ears to hear it and develop a relationship with it before the holiday season goes into full effect. The 1900s now face a small uphill battle trying to attract the right sorts of attention that “Return of the Century” deserves. With so many upbeat indie pop songs on the album as well, it doesn’t quite gel with the slow death beauty that fall and winter tend to bring. No matter the month or season though, good music is good anytime, which is what this album is. Those that have grown fond of the band thanks to their 2007 album “Cold and Kind” are right to be a little wary of the changes that have occurred in the past 3 years because in many ways The 1900s now sound like a completely different band. Despite this, their new pop-intense edge does a fantastic job of broadening their sound without dumbing it down in the least. In other words, they’re just as good as ever, only in a new way. Such are the follies of being very talented. “Return of the Century” is one of the most enjoyable indie pop albums of the year, even if it doesn’t quite possess the jaw-droppingly great peak moments or intense experimentation that some other records have. Pick up a copy sooner rather than later, for this is one you might want to fall in love with before the end of 2010.

The 1900s – Babies

Stream the entire album/buy it digitally via Bandcamp

Buy “Return of the Century” from Parasol Records

Album Review: Elliott Smith – An Introduction To… [Kill Rock Stars]

By Faronheit

On 11/03/2010

In album review, BNM, mp3, music

The day that I discovered Elliott Smith was on October 21, 2003. Not coincidentally, that was the day he died. As a fresh-faced 18-year-old with an emerging taste for indie rock, Smith hadn’t yet reached my radar when the internet was flooded with sadness over his death. With both close friends and musicians I admired all pouring in tributes to this man, I felt like I had been missing out on some truly special music. That turned out to be very much the case, as upon my first listen to his 1994 album “Roman Candle” I was instantly enchanted by this scrappy folk singer and his acoustic guitar. And while that record served as my proper introduction to Elliott Smith, I didn’t fall head over heels for the guy’s music until “XO” reached my ears. Like a small brush fire reaching a massive pool of gasoline, an obsession formed, made all the more sadder that Smith wasn’t around to keep making more amazing music. After releasing a posthumous album he was working on prior to his death along with a collection of b-sides, Kill Rock Stars is now putting out “An Introduction To…” in lieu of what might otherwise be called a “greatest hits collection”. If you’re younger or simply just very late to the party, this is expected to be your easy guide into the world of Elliott Smith.

Of course if “An Introduction To…” were a greatest hits set, there would be a bunch of songs from Smith’s two most popular records, “XO” and “Figure 8”. In the end, there’s only one song from “XO” and nothing from “Figure 8”, and presumably that’s because Kill Rock Stars is putting out this collection and those two big records weren’t released on the label. Thankfully 5 of the 15 tracks come from the also-amazing “Either/Or”, and the rest pretty much skip around his discography, hitting most every mark, however briefly. As an introduction like it claims, this provides a well-rounded view of Smith’s career, with the hope that the individual tracks you gravitate towards most are the records you should seek out first. If they really wanted to get “introductory”, they could have limited the track listing to Smith’s first 3-4 albums, or at the very least ordered everything sequentially. Does the jumbled order of the songs make that much of a difference in the end? Not really as the sound and songwriting stays pretty consistent throughout, but it would be interesting to hear the slight pieces of progression over time. If you buy digital then you can order the tracks any way you like, too.

Long-time fans of Elliott Smith may be wondering just how valuable a record like “An Introduction To…” would be in their collection. Like Jeff Buckley or Nirvana, this being the third posthumous Smith release could come off as an attempt to squeeze more money out of a corpse. Some might take that viewpoint, but given the title and absence of unreleased material, this really does seem designed for either a younger generation that hasn’t heard of Elliott Smith or people that always admired the guy from afar but never really got into his stuff. Smith’s mostly sad, acoustic folk songs are tempered back a bit to make room for some (but not all) of his poppier stuff that’s a little easier to like while still running deep with meaning. It’s the unique approach he took to making his songs sound multi-layered full despite a wispy, almost whispered singing voice and a lone acoustic guitar. It’s the heartfelt and heartbreaking words he wrote and the impact they can have on our own personal struggles, made all the more tragic by the his own life and untimely death.

For that angst-filled or depressed teenager that’s looking for a kindred spirit, getting an introduction to Elliott Smith right now could be just what the music doctor ordered. For the stunted adult, trying to find exactly where he or she fits into this crazy world of ours, here’s someone who understands you. And if you discovered the guy awhile back but his music didn’t click with you then, maybe now’s a good time to give it a second listen. This is an exceptional and smart collection of songs, even if it is missing a handful of what might be called “key” tracks. In some ways that’s for the better, because once you inevitably move on and venture deeper into Smith’s catalogue, the discovery of such additional brilliance will be a welcome surprise. What won’t be a surprise though is how this all ends, with just a limited amount of material to digest and the constant knowledge that there won’t be any more. Like the hundreds upon thousands of artists we discover just a little too late, ultimately we can just be grateful to have had these moments and found meaning in these songs that we can listen to and share with others for the rest of our lives. We may know how this story ultimately ends, but the individual journey we take getting there is what makes it so immensely worthwhile. If you’re just now discovering Elliott Smith, congratulations, there’s an amazing, possibly life-changing collection of songs just waiting and begging to reach your ears.

Elliott Smith – Between the Bars
Elliott Smith – Twilight
Elliott Smith – Last Call
Elliott Smith – Angel in the Snow

Buy “An Introduction To…” from Amazon

Album Review: Sun Airway – Nocturne of Exploded Crystal Chandelier [Dead Oceans]

By Faronheit

On 10/25/2010

In album review, BNM, mp3, music

Let’s get the obvious comparison out of the way right at the beginning – yes, Sun Airway sounds a whole lot like Animal Collective. Their debut album “Nocturne of Exploded Crystal Chandelier” holds many sonic similarities to “Merriweather Post Pavilion”, a record so many regarded as the best thing released in 2009. If there’s a band you’re going to try and imitate, at this point in time Animal Collective would be a smart move. The real challenge comes in the form of pulling it off without making a fool of yourself. There are oh so many artists out there that try to capture the zeitgeist of the times by pushing their sound in a certain direction for critical acclaim or popularity, but if it isn’t good enough there isn’t any point. Sun Airway is the duo of Jon Barthmus and Patrick Marsceill, both former members of the now-broken-up band The A-Sides. It’s taken them two long years of messing around with sounds and trying to put a record together while holding down jobs, but they’re finally done and Dead Oceans is psyched to be releasing it this week. Apparently all that time did them a world of good, because the tide is quickly rising on these guys and “Nocturne of Exploded Crystal Chandelier” is set to put them on everybody’s radar.

If you’ve gotten your hopes all high in hoping that “Nocturne of Exploded Crystal Chandelier” will be the new “Merriweather Post Pavilion”, don’t set yourself up for disappointment. This Sun Airway record is damn good, but one thing we’ve learned simply by paying close attention to Animal Collective these past several years is that such brilliance takes time to mature and fully develop. Of course every record is typically informed by the ones that came before it, so the proverbial Pandora’s Box has been opened and there’s no way to shove the flood of ideas back in. The noises that permeate and define Sun Airway’s sound are primarily electronic, from your typical bleeps and bloops to samples and beats that maintain tempo. Synths also play a huge role, as do a number of other instruments that are so varied and mixed that it’s nearly impossible to pick out each and every one. Pay close attention and you’ll catch a splattering of flute or a small dose of harp for good measure. It’s also important to note that probably 98% of the sounds that appear on the record are computer generated, meaning that they didn’t so much whip out a harp and hold a microphone up to it but instead used a program that created a “virtual harp” they could work with. Vocals aren’t really something you can fake though, so those were recorded live and the way they’re presented is one of the things that differentiates Sun Airway from Animal Collective. Barthmus is pretty much the only vocalist in the band, meaning that without an Avey Tare or Panda Bear to back him up, there’s less in the way of Beach Boys-esque harmonies. Echo effects are used with relative frequency though, to help add a nice dose of psychedelia to everything. When no vocal effects are used and Barthmus’s vocals come across with stark clarity it’s also effective in a different an unexpected sort of way.

When the vocals aren’t obscured or processed, the songs usually have strong pop elements to them, and compelling hooks are probably Sun Airway’s strong suit. Opening track “Infinity” may not have the band at their most energetic, but it serves as a strong, shimmery introduction to the record. The constant repetition of the lines “Woke up as a snowflake on an ocean/I looked over/I saw you floating next to me/drowned in the moonlight hours” works on you until it’s stuck in your head. With its toe-tappingly danceable beat and verse-chorus-verse style, “American West” is one of the catchiest songs on the entire record. It’d serve extremely well as a single, as does actual single “Oh, Naoko” which follows it. “Waiting On You” comes across as something of a cross between “Merriweather Post Pavilion”‘s “My Girls” and “Summertime Clothes”, though to call it equal to either of those tracks would make it one of the best songs of the year. Perhaps it is, but it’s going to take a little longer to fully earn that honor. Towards the end of the record second single “Put the Days Away” and “Your Moon” also are two sharply addictive tracks that really help balance things out from start to finish. In other words, half the album is packed with hooks, while the other half focuses more on beauty, mood and pure balladry.

For those that found “Merriweather Post Pavilion” a bit too challenging to fully embrace, Sun Airway’s “Nocturne of Exploded Crystal Chandelier” might just be the record that skates the balance between anti-pop and pop. The record is experimental without being too experimental, and catchy without being overtly pandering. These are the sorts of things that if done correctly, will generate the right sort of buzz for a band. There are a couple small shakier/almost flat-out boring moments on this album, but they come so few and far between that they’re relatively forgiveable given how well most everything else functions. It is those times though that prevent the record from attaining that much coveted “Album of the Year” nomination but still keeps it well within the “year-end list” range. That Sun Airway began working on this record in the fall of 2008 before anyone had heard a single note of “Merriweather Post Pavilion” just goes to show that they had the right ideas from the start, even if that album did eventually provide some sort of influence in the studio later on. Where Sun Airway will go from here, and how they might benefit from this ripe Animal Collective comparison will be determined in the coming months by the ever-fickle hype cycle. They may not be ushering in a musical revolution that will become the official “next big thing”, but they have made an album more than worth your time and hard-earned cash as we continue to hold a trend towards a strong finish in 2010.

Sun Airway – Put the Days Away
Sun Airway – Oh, Naoko

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Album Review: Women – Public Strain [Jagjaguwar]

By Faronheit

On 10/04/2010

In album review, BNM, mp3, music

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

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

Contact information: faronheit@gmail.com