Thursday, December 24, 2009
Follow Us... Elsewhere
Posting on Tongue Tied Lightning has obviously and unfortunately halted. Find more musical musings, including year end lists, at the new and improved, The Title Is Everything.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Review: The Fiery Furnaces- I'm Going Away
What do you expect when you first pop in a new Fiery Furnaces record? Throughout a discography that spans folksy blues to electro pop to progressive rock to geriatric themed concept albums, the only real expectation is to be surprised. In that sense 'I'm Going Away' doesn't break the norm. It is certainly shocking, but only in the sense of how un-shocking the music here is. Honestly, anyone could listen to and enjoy the 30's tinged indie rock that makes up this record, which could hardly be said of even 'Gallowsbird Bark', the duo's now dethroned "most accessible" release, and would never even be considered as description of 'Blueberry Boat' or 'Remember'. The question then really becomes, if the Fiery Furnaces are not brandishing their characteristically uncompromising creative mash-ups of noise and melody, do they have the chops to hold a listeners attention?
There has never been any doubt that Matthew Friedberger can write a great pop song, but we are in a world that is rife with such tunes. It has always been the aesthetic, the packaging, that can make just another track really stick. The tunes here are packaged in newspaper clippings saved up from the Great Depression, a nostalgic take which while offering a fresh sound, adds to the tame nature of the album. The word tame however, when applied to the FF's may not mean what it otherwise would. Opener and title track "I'm Going Away" rides a jangly groove heavily through an old folk tune, but never quite strays into the experimentalism of the similiar "Single Again". Rocker "Charmaine Champagne" moves adeptly through a number of changes, but never reaches the frenzy of "Don't Dance Her Down". There are still enough guitar squelches ("Drive To Dallas") and melodic shake-ups to keep this distinctly Furnaces, just not to the extent that there have been in the past. One advantage of this is the extra honesty it seems to lend to the ballads; "The End Is Near" is more poignant than anything they've ever done, even if one winds up wishing a prettier voice than Eleanor Friedberger's was singing it. Noticeably absent here is the heavy handed synth. I can not even imagine these songs being performed live without guitar. That said however, the playing is profesional and the production is clean.
On previous albums the music could be too challenging, sometimes leaving one to wish for a more accessible listen. Here, if anything, the opposite applies. These songs are so easier to listen to that one begins to yearn for more of that flair to make them, well, more fiery (particularly on "Cut The Cake"). While a more perfect blend was probably hit on 'Gallowsbird Bark' or 'Widow City', the songs here are some of the best the band has ever done. It is important to note however that this is in no way a move to the mainstream, as most of the record would sound more at home through a victrola then a radio. Perhaps the Friedbergers realized that the only way they had left to shock us was to make an unshocking record. Lets just hope they find some more up their sleeve by the next LP.
Rating: 8/10
Best Tracks: "Even In The Rain", "Keep Me In The Dark", "Lost At Sea"
There has never been any doubt that Matthew Friedberger can write a great pop song, but we are in a world that is rife with such tunes. It has always been the aesthetic, the packaging, that can make just another track really stick. The tunes here are packaged in newspaper clippings saved up from the Great Depression, a nostalgic take which while offering a fresh sound, adds to the tame nature of the album. The word tame however, when applied to the FF's may not mean what it otherwise would. Opener and title track "I'm Going Away" rides a jangly groove heavily through an old folk tune, but never quite strays into the experimentalism of the similiar "Single Again". Rocker "Charmaine Champagne" moves adeptly through a number of changes, but never reaches the frenzy of "Don't Dance Her Down". There are still enough guitar squelches ("Drive To Dallas") and melodic shake-ups to keep this distinctly Furnaces, just not to the extent that there have been in the past. One advantage of this is the extra honesty it seems to lend to the ballads; "The End Is Near" is more poignant than anything they've ever done, even if one winds up wishing a prettier voice than Eleanor Friedberger's was singing it. Noticeably absent here is the heavy handed synth. I can not even imagine these songs being performed live without guitar. That said however, the playing is profesional and the production is clean.
On previous albums the music could be too challenging, sometimes leaving one to wish for a more accessible listen. Here, if anything, the opposite applies. These songs are so easier to listen to that one begins to yearn for more of that flair to make them, well, more fiery (particularly on "Cut The Cake"). While a more perfect blend was probably hit on 'Gallowsbird Bark' or 'Widow City', the songs here are some of the best the band has ever done. It is important to note however that this is in no way a move to the mainstream, as most of the record would sound more at home through a victrola then a radio. Perhaps the Friedbergers realized that the only way they had left to shock us was to make an unshocking record. Lets just hope they find some more up their sleeve by the next LP.
Rating: 8/10
Best Tracks: "Even In The Rain", "Keep Me In The Dark", "Lost At Sea"
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Live Review: Lollapalooza, 8/7-9/09, Chicago IL
I'm going to lump all three days of the festival into one post, and do my best to keep it concise. I'm also going to go ahead and try to keep it about the music here, as opposed to getting distracted with all the amazing insanities that seem to come package-deal with festivals of this scale. Here we goo...
Friday
Bon Iver: I was curious how this would come across live. Vernon was accompanied by a four piece band, but the music was largely spare as was to be expected. While the music was excellent, but by its very nature not the ticket to excite a festival crowd. "Skinny Love" found fists pumping, but the cool and constant drizzle didn't help more intimate and less gripping songs like "Re: Stacks" or the Dark Was The Night track "Brackett, WI". Non LP track "Blood Bank" also made an appearrance, but, alas, there were no "Woods" to be found in Chicago that night. "For Emma" without the horns didn't quite soar, but "Creature Fear" ended things at a dynamic high point by eventually devolving into an avant-noise jam.
Fleet Foxes: The rain kept on falling, but the second set of folksters of the night played yet another note perfect set. The mix here was amazing, and the harmonies crystal, as expected. Despite being a folk band, Pecknold and crew construct mini-epics which at their apex soar with just as much fist pumping triumph as any power ballad. If you've ever heard "Ragged Wood" amongst thousands of soggy fans, heads back roaring along the lyrics "Tell me anything you want, any old lie will do..", than you know what exactly I'm talking about.
Andrew Bird: As good as so many acts I saw this weekend were, no one can touch the musicianship of Andrew Bird. As a classicly trained violinist I have no doubts he could play in any ensemble, as a singer his small frame evokes a voice that effortlessly rings out to fill the voluminous empty spaces above, and as a whistler, as silly as it sounds, there is not a bird on earth who is not jealous. As a performer he turned over loop after loop of this gold faster than my mind could keep up with what exactly he was doing, and consistently constructed soundscapes populated richly by violin stabs, falling vocal cadences, and precisely harmonized tweets. Then, on a note, it all scaled back to that initial loop and those equally dense lyrics. I was blown away, and a set list including opener "Fiery Crash" and "Scythian Empires" didn't hurt. Other highlights included "Effigy", "Anonanimal", and sweeping closer "Tables And Chairs".
Kings Of Leon: If nothing else, this set was a reminder of how many truly great songs Kings Of Leon have written, and man are there a lot of them across only four albums. Their rise to festival headliner status was propelled by their most recent "Only By The Night", which in many circles has earned the group sell out status. Frontman Caleb Followill handled such concerns modestly on a couple of occasions. "Thanks for making us feel like a much bigger band than we really are" he told the crowd after mentioning "millions" of other bands who probably deserved it as much as them. "A lot of people have lost faith in Kings Of Leon", he later admitted, "but, f*ck it, were having the time of our lives- right?" That they must have been, as the crowd was the largest I personally saw all weekend, extending beyond the opposite Playstation stage. Only the bassist looked like he had spent more than an hour picking his outfit for the set, but regardless the 12 or more screens in addition to the jumbotrons solidified the groups new arena rock position. Concerning the music, everything was played exactly as off the record, no jamming or added flair to be found. A few tracks were even slowed down quite a few beats per minute. This said, the music soared and so did the crowds voices singing along, particularly on "Sex On Fire". My personal favorites of the night included "Charmer", "On Call" and "The Bucket". Caleb Followill sports one of the most affecting visceral growls in rock history, and truly does deserve to be a star. Noticeably absent from the set was old favorite "California Waiting", and "Soft". Come on, you know you wanted to hear Caleb sing "I'm passed out in your garden, I'm in I can't get off" in front of the biggest crowd of his life..
In summary, Friday was mainly a chill day of beautifully performed folk music. We also saw fragments of The Decemberists (who opted to play 'Hazards of Love' straight through..) and Ben Folds.
Saturday
Los Campesinos!: I was not expecting this large of a crowd for this band, this early in the day, much less everyone being this into. The band actually didn't sound great, but oh the energy! How could you not get up for it? The 7 piece absolutely raced through these songs, with noise and yelping and stage diving antics tumbling in tow. "You! Me! Dancing!" an undeniably goofy song to say the least, to see this group play it live, became utterly anthemic. For some reason I wasn't surprised by the end when half the band was crowd surfing and the other half was still joyously banging away.
Band of Horses (Kidzapalooza): An overheard conversation led me to catch Band Of Horses playing a secret 15 minute set at the Kidzapalooza stage. Secret must have gotten out, as the crowd there swamped the tiny area. Of note was the new song played, "Nature". A very catchy tune, but I kind of hope that those were kid-version lyrics. Either way, this got me psyched to see them Sunday night.
Arctic Monkeys: A huge crowd turned out as Arctic Monkeys were definitely one of the more mainstream draws. It was obvious that these guys were used to headlining festivals in Europe too; they were all swagger. A very professional set, with a great mix. Somehow I would have liked to feel as if they were trying a little harder though..
Lykke Li: My favorite set of the weekend was hands down Lykke Li at the small Citi stage. As a fan of her subtly atmospheric pop driven record, I was in no way prepared for what was to come. She came on stage alone, draped in a black garment that flowed around her body in the wind, and started a beat on a lone woodblock. As the words to "Dance Dance Dance" started becoming evident, the band (all in black sports coats and wife beaters) filtered on and started filling out the verse. At the change a break in the sound, and then- explosion. Thundering floor toms, blaring keyboard, and a woman possessed writhing across the stage as she transformed a naive pop song into a ferocious sonic assault. The opener was followed by "Everybody But Me" and "I'm Good I'm Gone", possibly her three strongest tunes right off the bat, and the crowd never missed a beat. I was particularly thrilled when she called out Mike Snow to duet on her nervy cover of Kings Of Leon's "Knocked Up". The real thrill of this show however, was how she took familiar songs like "Little Bit" or "Hanging High" and portrayed them as something completely new, if only through sheer volume of the kick drum, while staying true to her minimalist tendencies. "Complaint Department" came in with that thick sample and had everyone moving as I couldn't have imagined; into "Let It Fall", which broke for a minute while the singer yelled in a thick swedish accent "I can't hee-ar yooo". Priceless. Faux-closer "Breaking It Up" brought the show to that next level of passion and energy which you are never convinced actually exists until it happens. "Tonight" ended the set, featuring the whole crowd desperately pleading back to the singer "Don't you let me go, let me go tonight!". It served as an amazing ending, not only due to the songs sweeping epic nature, but because it brought back into focus the Lykke Li of the record. On tape, she writes naive, little girl-esque tales about her shyness and insecurities. And yet on stage she is a force of nature, and similiarly does the music transform. It is a wonderful dynamic that only comes out in the show. I guess she really means it when she sings "Having trouble telling you how I feel, but I can dance, dance, dance."
Animal Collective: This was a big draw for me. I was curious to say the least, and though they've never been a favorite of mine, avant garde music has always been something I've given an ear too. I've never seen a band so eager to displease 95% of everyone at a show however. I only stayed for ten minutes of the structure-less drone; it was obvious that even if we did get to hear "My Girls" it wouldn't be any fun. At least I got to hear my buddy use the most epic pick up line ever dropped: "Do you know that your dancing in 7/8?"
Bassnectar: San Francisco DJ in the dance tent. Its a cop out, but if you really have to ask about this one, you'll probably never know.
In summary, Saturday was hotter, sweatier, dancier, higher energy in general. Could Sunday really top it?
Sunday
Kaiser Chiefs: British pop rock bands like Kaiser Chiefs have never truly struck me as legitamate musicians, and so while keeping in touch with what is going on across the pond I tend not to give it the time of acts from other scenes. Knowing a couple of there songs however, I checked them out expecting about the same as I saw from the Arctic Monkeys. These Brits, however, definitely came on like they had something to prove. Lead singer Ricky Wilson was nuts, and the music was tenacious. Jumping in the crowd, climbing the stage supports, bucking across the stage completely out of control just to barely get back to the mic for the chorus, nothing was off limits. "Everyday I Love You Less And Less" and "Ruby" were both highlights, but "I Predict A Riot", in Wilson's own words, was "f*ckin mental."
Dan Deacon: A show which, while being a bit of a blur, I will always remember. For making such crazy music, and being such a goofy fellow himself (what with the purple T-shirts and dorky glasses and whatnot..) Deacon is a bit touchy when it comes to the mix apparently. After some banter with the sound engineer the show was underway. With three drummers, two mallets, three synths, two guitars, Deacon doing whatever it is he does, and some horns along the back, the sound was absolutely huge. Even though it was hardly needed, the famed crowd participation antics of Deacon all went down, including emotional forays involving hands on strangers sweaty heads, giant human dance tunnels, and swaying circles that eventually built to a pulsating mob inanely heaving garbage in the air. For the end of the set, 14 brass came forward with their toes on the edge of the stage, and the noise that erupted sent 10,000+ people into frenzy. Having danced up to the very front the chaos was unbelievable. After the set, I wandered over to a grassy hill, disoriented, and briefly collapsed. Amazing.
Vampire Weekend: As you would expect, they were very good. I'm not sure how Vampire Weekend could amp up their show to fill the festival atmosphere they found themselves in, but they played all the hits, and the danceable pop tunes left everyone pretty much satisfied. Not to mention, I got a chance to drop an epic pick up line of my own (I'd been saving this one up): "Is your bed made? Is your sweater on?"
Band Of Horses: I liked Band Of Horses before this show, now I love Band Of Horses. Their large reverb laden brand of americana rock proved to be just the ticket to capping off an amazing weekend. While usually getting thrown in the vocal camp with the likes of My Morning Jacket or Fleet Foxes, I was surprised by the immediacy of singer Mat Brooke's voice. The singer was obviously having a ball, always good for a few whoops or "Thank you so much!'s" from underneath his cowboy hat between songs. When the set was slated to end, "Funeral" predictably started playing, and man was it huge. What no one expected was for the band to go on for four more songs- and no one was complaining. When the band closed with personal favorite "The General Specific", the energy had reached heights that no country romp should be able to maintain. What puzzled me however, was this show in juxtaposition to a couple songs I caught from a weak Cold War Kids set earlier in the day. Both are bands about the same age, having made two records each, who play nostalgic rock, and yet one almost shattered the earth with their set while the other sputtered. It just goes to show the talent and scope that Band of Horses posess.
DeadMau5: Again, do you have to ask? Prob not as hypnotic as Bassnectar, but this was the final night of Lollapalooza people.
An amazing city, amazing music, great people, great times, great festival. My overall winners were Andrew Bird, Lykke Li, and Band of Horses, with great surprises from Dan Deacon and Los Campesinos!. Next year Bonnaroo? Hopefully I'll see you there. Shows are where music happens people, and music is always a good thing.
Friday
Bon Iver: I was curious how this would come across live. Vernon was accompanied by a four piece band, but the music was largely spare as was to be expected. While the music was excellent, but by its very nature not the ticket to excite a festival crowd. "Skinny Love" found fists pumping, but the cool and constant drizzle didn't help more intimate and less gripping songs like "Re: Stacks" or the Dark Was The Night track "Brackett, WI". Non LP track "Blood Bank" also made an appearrance, but, alas, there were no "Woods" to be found in Chicago that night. "For Emma" without the horns didn't quite soar, but "Creature Fear" ended things at a dynamic high point by eventually devolving into an avant-noise jam.
Fleet Foxes: The rain kept on falling, but the second set of folksters of the night played yet another note perfect set. The mix here was amazing, and the harmonies crystal, as expected. Despite being a folk band, Pecknold and crew construct mini-epics which at their apex soar with just as much fist pumping triumph as any power ballad. If you've ever heard "Ragged Wood" amongst thousands of soggy fans, heads back roaring along the lyrics "Tell me anything you want, any old lie will do..", than you know what exactly I'm talking about.
Andrew Bird: As good as so many acts I saw this weekend were, no one can touch the musicianship of Andrew Bird. As a classicly trained violinist I have no doubts he could play in any ensemble, as a singer his small frame evokes a voice that effortlessly rings out to fill the voluminous empty spaces above, and as a whistler, as silly as it sounds, there is not a bird on earth who is not jealous. As a performer he turned over loop after loop of this gold faster than my mind could keep up with what exactly he was doing, and consistently constructed soundscapes populated richly by violin stabs, falling vocal cadences, and precisely harmonized tweets. Then, on a note, it all scaled back to that initial loop and those equally dense lyrics. I was blown away, and a set list including opener "Fiery Crash" and "Scythian Empires" didn't hurt. Other highlights included "Effigy", "Anonanimal", and sweeping closer "Tables And Chairs".
Kings Of Leon: If nothing else, this set was a reminder of how many truly great songs Kings Of Leon have written, and man are there a lot of them across only four albums. Their rise to festival headliner status was propelled by their most recent "Only By The Night", which in many circles has earned the group sell out status. Frontman Caleb Followill handled such concerns modestly on a couple of occasions. "Thanks for making us feel like a much bigger band than we really are" he told the crowd after mentioning "millions" of other bands who probably deserved it as much as them. "A lot of people have lost faith in Kings Of Leon", he later admitted, "but, f*ck it, were having the time of our lives- right?" That they must have been, as the crowd was the largest I personally saw all weekend, extending beyond the opposite Playstation stage. Only the bassist looked like he had spent more than an hour picking his outfit for the set, but regardless the 12 or more screens in addition to the jumbotrons solidified the groups new arena rock position. Concerning the music, everything was played exactly as off the record, no jamming or added flair to be found. A few tracks were even slowed down quite a few beats per minute. This said, the music soared and so did the crowds voices singing along, particularly on "Sex On Fire". My personal favorites of the night included "Charmer", "On Call" and "The Bucket". Caleb Followill sports one of the most affecting visceral growls in rock history, and truly does deserve to be a star. Noticeably absent from the set was old favorite "California Waiting", and "Soft". Come on, you know you wanted to hear Caleb sing "I'm passed out in your garden, I'm in I can't get off" in front of the biggest crowd of his life..
In summary, Friday was mainly a chill day of beautifully performed folk music. We also saw fragments of The Decemberists (who opted to play 'Hazards of Love' straight through..) and Ben Folds.
Saturday
Los Campesinos!: I was not expecting this large of a crowd for this band, this early in the day, much less everyone being this into. The band actually didn't sound great, but oh the energy! How could you not get up for it? The 7 piece absolutely raced through these songs, with noise and yelping and stage diving antics tumbling in tow. "You! Me! Dancing!" an undeniably goofy song to say the least, to see this group play it live, became utterly anthemic. For some reason I wasn't surprised by the end when half the band was crowd surfing and the other half was still joyously banging away.
Band of Horses (Kidzapalooza): An overheard conversation led me to catch Band Of Horses playing a secret 15 minute set at the Kidzapalooza stage. Secret must have gotten out, as the crowd there swamped the tiny area. Of note was the new song played, "Nature". A very catchy tune, but I kind of hope that those were kid-version lyrics. Either way, this got me psyched to see them Sunday night.
Arctic Monkeys: A huge crowd turned out as Arctic Monkeys were definitely one of the more mainstream draws. It was obvious that these guys were used to headlining festivals in Europe too; they were all swagger. A very professional set, with a great mix. Somehow I would have liked to feel as if they were trying a little harder though..
Lykke Li: My favorite set of the weekend was hands down Lykke Li at the small Citi stage. As a fan of her subtly atmospheric pop driven record, I was in no way prepared for what was to come. She came on stage alone, draped in a black garment that flowed around her body in the wind, and started a beat on a lone woodblock. As the words to "Dance Dance Dance" started becoming evident, the band (all in black sports coats and wife beaters) filtered on and started filling out the verse. At the change a break in the sound, and then- explosion. Thundering floor toms, blaring keyboard, and a woman possessed writhing across the stage as she transformed a naive pop song into a ferocious sonic assault. The opener was followed by "Everybody But Me" and "I'm Good I'm Gone", possibly her three strongest tunes right off the bat, and the crowd never missed a beat. I was particularly thrilled when she called out Mike Snow to duet on her nervy cover of Kings Of Leon's "Knocked Up". The real thrill of this show however, was how she took familiar songs like "Little Bit" or "Hanging High" and portrayed them as something completely new, if only through sheer volume of the kick drum, while staying true to her minimalist tendencies. "Complaint Department" came in with that thick sample and had everyone moving as I couldn't have imagined; into "Let It Fall", which broke for a minute while the singer yelled in a thick swedish accent "I can't hee-ar yooo". Priceless. Faux-closer "Breaking It Up" brought the show to that next level of passion and energy which you are never convinced actually exists until it happens. "Tonight" ended the set, featuring the whole crowd desperately pleading back to the singer "Don't you let me go, let me go tonight!". It served as an amazing ending, not only due to the songs sweeping epic nature, but because it brought back into focus the Lykke Li of the record. On tape, she writes naive, little girl-esque tales about her shyness and insecurities. And yet on stage she is a force of nature, and similiarly does the music transform. It is a wonderful dynamic that only comes out in the show. I guess she really means it when she sings "Having trouble telling you how I feel, but I can dance, dance, dance."
Animal Collective: This was a big draw for me. I was curious to say the least, and though they've never been a favorite of mine, avant garde music has always been something I've given an ear too. I've never seen a band so eager to displease 95% of everyone at a show however. I only stayed for ten minutes of the structure-less drone; it was obvious that even if we did get to hear "My Girls" it wouldn't be any fun. At least I got to hear my buddy use the most epic pick up line ever dropped: "Do you know that your dancing in 7/8?"
Bassnectar: San Francisco DJ in the dance tent. Its a cop out, but if you really have to ask about this one, you'll probably never know.
In summary, Saturday was hotter, sweatier, dancier, higher energy in general. Could Sunday really top it?
Sunday
Kaiser Chiefs: British pop rock bands like Kaiser Chiefs have never truly struck me as legitamate musicians, and so while keeping in touch with what is going on across the pond I tend not to give it the time of acts from other scenes. Knowing a couple of there songs however, I checked them out expecting about the same as I saw from the Arctic Monkeys. These Brits, however, definitely came on like they had something to prove. Lead singer Ricky Wilson was nuts, and the music was tenacious. Jumping in the crowd, climbing the stage supports, bucking across the stage completely out of control just to barely get back to the mic for the chorus, nothing was off limits. "Everyday I Love You Less And Less" and "Ruby" were both highlights, but "I Predict A Riot", in Wilson's own words, was "f*ckin mental."
Dan Deacon: A show which, while being a bit of a blur, I will always remember. For making such crazy music, and being such a goofy fellow himself (what with the purple T-shirts and dorky glasses and whatnot..) Deacon is a bit touchy when it comes to the mix apparently. After some banter with the sound engineer the show was underway. With three drummers, two mallets, three synths, two guitars, Deacon doing whatever it is he does, and some horns along the back, the sound was absolutely huge. Even though it was hardly needed, the famed crowd participation antics of Deacon all went down, including emotional forays involving hands on strangers sweaty heads, giant human dance tunnels, and swaying circles that eventually built to a pulsating mob inanely heaving garbage in the air. For the end of the set, 14 brass came forward with their toes on the edge of the stage, and the noise that erupted sent 10,000+ people into frenzy. Having danced up to the very front the chaos was unbelievable. After the set, I wandered over to a grassy hill, disoriented, and briefly collapsed. Amazing.
Vampire Weekend: As you would expect, they were very good. I'm not sure how Vampire Weekend could amp up their show to fill the festival atmosphere they found themselves in, but they played all the hits, and the danceable pop tunes left everyone pretty much satisfied. Not to mention, I got a chance to drop an epic pick up line of my own (I'd been saving this one up): "Is your bed made? Is your sweater on?"
Band Of Horses: I liked Band Of Horses before this show, now I love Band Of Horses. Their large reverb laden brand of americana rock proved to be just the ticket to capping off an amazing weekend. While usually getting thrown in the vocal camp with the likes of My Morning Jacket or Fleet Foxes, I was surprised by the immediacy of singer Mat Brooke's voice. The singer was obviously having a ball, always good for a few whoops or "Thank you so much!'s" from underneath his cowboy hat between songs. When the set was slated to end, "Funeral" predictably started playing, and man was it huge. What no one expected was for the band to go on for four more songs- and no one was complaining. When the band closed with personal favorite "The General Specific", the energy had reached heights that no country romp should be able to maintain. What puzzled me however, was this show in juxtaposition to a couple songs I caught from a weak Cold War Kids set earlier in the day. Both are bands about the same age, having made two records each, who play nostalgic rock, and yet one almost shattered the earth with their set while the other sputtered. It just goes to show the talent and scope that Band of Horses posess.
DeadMau5: Again, do you have to ask? Prob not as hypnotic as Bassnectar, but this was the final night of Lollapalooza people.
An amazing city, amazing music, great people, great times, great festival. My overall winners were Andrew Bird, Lykke Li, and Band of Horses, with great surprises from Dan Deacon and Los Campesinos!. Next year Bonnaroo? Hopefully I'll see you there. Shows are where music happens people, and music is always a good thing.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Review: Charles Spearin- The Happiness Project
Charles Spearin of Broken Social Scene and Do Make Say Think has followed suit of his myriad band mates and released a solo record. This one however, stands alone. Rather than rehashing more of the huge indie sound of BSS or the intricate post rock of DMST, Spearin reaches back to his roots in KC Accidental (often overlooked, but some of the best stuff still to come out of Toronto) to produce a like minded record of subtle instrumental beauty. What truly is unique here is the concept behind the music. Spearin took it upon himself to interview many of his neighbors and acquaintances about happiness. He recorded the conversations, took the tapes home, and literally played along with the conversations. Note for word, he literally plays along with the voices on the tape. No exaggeration. It is an impressive feat to say the least, but you can't help but be suspicious of gimmickry at work here. Gimmick or not, can you really resist at least a listen?
At a concise one and a half minutes, "Mrs. Morris" serves as a straightforward introduction to the basics of whats going on here. Literally a note for word play along with what Mrs. Morris is saying. At first the effect is startling. "Does she really sound like that?" you ask yourself. Yes, yes she does. More importantly, the opener introduces one of the more interesting facets of the album. Mrs. Morris, an older African American woman, has her voice represented by a saxophone. It traces the inflections perfectly, and with each track you find that different voices are characterized by similarly appropriate instruments. Hearing each unique personality represented through unique instruments is a wonderful quirk that really helps carry the concept behind the record. On the following tracks, the rules are not adhered to so strictly. Rather, the voices introduce the melodies, which are then picked up instrumentally and filled out by full productions. Often the vocal sample containing the melody is looped to help make it work within the framework of the song, and most typically then dropped all together to let the instruments play off these themes. "Anna", done on trumpet, offers one of the highlights of the record on what becomes a laid back jazzy romp. "Vanessa", a formerly deaf woman provides another highlight with piano tinkling along to her musings on the nature of sound in general. Other curiosities include a woman done on harp, a baby done on singing saw (?), and a reprise from who has to be the same old man off of the Valley of the Giants record. To close the record they give Mrs. Morris the full production treatment, tying things off neatly.
The spoken word has always had a place in post rock. Whether being cryptic old radio broadcasts, recalls of memory, or merely studio chatter, using speaking to flavor the sentiment of this kind of music is not rare in the least. With that being the case, Spearin's record would be an easy listen, even to someone wholly unfamiliar with the project. Judged on the sole basis of just any post rock record however, it is short. At 31 minutes, there have been single songs in the genre that eclipse this whole work. Towards the sixth and seventh track, the melodies do not nearly pop as much, the instrumentation becomes more challenging, and the novelty of the "playing along" gag starts to wear off. These become criticisms mainly as a reflection of how short the album is. There is no cathartic release after these challenges, as the album never plays out enough to allow one. Not to mention that the listener would probably ideally imagine the immediacy of the albums first half to play all the way through.
In the end, the "gimmickry" of the project really does bring something to the table. One of the great pitfalls of post rock is when you start to feel that a group is phoning it in; putting out more-of-the-same type albums when the inspiration starts to fail (recent Sigur Ros anyone?). The inspiration is on full blast here, and it comes through in the music. Likewise, an impressive array of moods and sentiments manage to be effectively communicated, whereas many such records only can manage to sustain one. However, this being one of the best instrumental releases so far this year, I'm pretty sure the mood you'll end up settling on is happiness.
Rating: 7.5/10
Best Tracks: "Anna", "Vanessa", "Mrs. Morris (Reprise)"
At a concise one and a half minutes, "Mrs. Morris" serves as a straightforward introduction to the basics of whats going on here. Literally a note for word play along with what Mrs. Morris is saying. At first the effect is startling. "Does she really sound like that?" you ask yourself. Yes, yes she does. More importantly, the opener introduces one of the more interesting facets of the album. Mrs. Morris, an older African American woman, has her voice represented by a saxophone. It traces the inflections perfectly, and with each track you find that different voices are characterized by similarly appropriate instruments. Hearing each unique personality represented through unique instruments is a wonderful quirk that really helps carry the concept behind the record. On the following tracks, the rules are not adhered to so strictly. Rather, the voices introduce the melodies, which are then picked up instrumentally and filled out by full productions. Often the vocal sample containing the melody is looped to help make it work within the framework of the song, and most typically then dropped all together to let the instruments play off these themes. "Anna", done on trumpet, offers one of the highlights of the record on what becomes a laid back jazzy romp. "Vanessa", a formerly deaf woman provides another highlight with piano tinkling along to her musings on the nature of sound in general. Other curiosities include a woman done on harp, a baby done on singing saw (?), and a reprise from who has to be the same old man off of the Valley of the Giants record. To close the record they give Mrs. Morris the full production treatment, tying things off neatly.
The spoken word has always had a place in post rock. Whether being cryptic old radio broadcasts, recalls of memory, or merely studio chatter, using speaking to flavor the sentiment of this kind of music is not rare in the least. With that being the case, Spearin's record would be an easy listen, even to someone wholly unfamiliar with the project. Judged on the sole basis of just any post rock record however, it is short. At 31 minutes, there have been single songs in the genre that eclipse this whole work. Towards the sixth and seventh track, the melodies do not nearly pop as much, the instrumentation becomes more challenging, and the novelty of the "playing along" gag starts to wear off. These become criticisms mainly as a reflection of how short the album is. There is no cathartic release after these challenges, as the album never plays out enough to allow one. Not to mention that the listener would probably ideally imagine the immediacy of the albums first half to play all the way through.
In the end, the "gimmickry" of the project really does bring something to the table. One of the great pitfalls of post rock is when you start to feel that a group is phoning it in; putting out more-of-the-same type albums when the inspiration starts to fail (recent Sigur Ros anyone?). The inspiration is on full blast here, and it comes through in the music. Likewise, an impressive array of moods and sentiments manage to be effectively communicated, whereas many such records only can manage to sustain one. However, this being one of the best instrumental releases so far this year, I'm pretty sure the mood you'll end up settling on is happiness.
Rating: 7.5/10
Best Tracks: "Anna", "Vanessa", "Mrs. Morris (Reprise)"
Albums I Love: Painful
I feel fairly secure in saying that Yo La Tengo is the most unclassifiable band ever. When you have a career spanning 23 years and 13 LP's (pending the release of 'Popular Songs' in September of this year) this is almost a necessity. If for no other reason, the sheer scope of their body of work solidifies them as pioneers of indie rock, not to mention that they were making the first steps into the genre as early as 1986. Despite this however, most of their work has remained insulated to a small core of fans, even within the indie sphere. Really, only "I Can Hear The Heart Beating As One" and select tracks off of "I Am Not Afraid Of You And I Will Beat Your Ass" have truly gotten some widespread (relatively speaking) listening. It is a failing of the genre, that we often pigeonhole one record from a band as the "quintessential listen" and hence relegate much of their equal and oftentimes better work to being superfan collectibles. If this is what has kept you from spinning 1993's 'Painful', shame on you.
I'm not actually too dissapointed here, but now you have no excuse. This is the quintessential indie album, the foundation which many bands you love most likely stand on. There are truly traces of nearly every trend to emerge in guitar based indie rock of the next 15 years on this record. Take the post rock beauty of opener "Big Day Coming". For seven minutes the track barely whispers its anticipatory lyrics, "There's a big day coming/And I can't hardly wait," as if scared that anything more and the delicate beauty would melt away. Only then to have the sonic pallette shattered with the distortion-drenched irrestible pop ride that is "From A Motel Six". "Superstar Watcher", into "Nowhere Near" find the band at their most atmospheric. Washes of smooth organ tones caress Georgia Hubley's sustained, gentle voice as she asks "Do you know how I feel?/How I feel about you?". "Sudden Organ" characterized by (you guessed it) stabs of reverbed organ blast, is the probable origin of all those Velvet Underground comparisons that only kind of made sense. On "I Was The Fool Beside You For Too Long" the band opens up for huge arena sized guitar chords, before toning down for a cover of The Only Ones tune, "The Whole Of The Law". Nowhere else does the band acheive the beauty of this track (which is considerable praise in a discography boasting 'And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out'). You hear the longing and almost feel distance as Ira and Georgia sing to each other, "I'd plumb the depths of every sea for you/I'd escape from my chains, and I'll reach out for you". In finale, the guitar cacophony that would come to characterize later Yo La Tengo freakouts is featured for 7 minutes straight on the visceral closer, "I Heard You Looking".
Ira Kaplan, Georgia Hubley, and James McNew. These three are the anti-rock stars. Mild mannered, slightly goofy looking people making music outside of any popular influence. To see these three, and then to hear them, is to be shocked. And yet that is their charm. To know the ferocity, the passion, the beauty, and the vision within three such ordinary folks, is to know these things in yourself. And to know that is anything but 'Painful'.
Best Tracks: "From A Motel Six", "Nowhere Near", "The Whole Of The Law"
I'm not actually too dissapointed here, but now you have no excuse. This is the quintessential indie album, the foundation which many bands you love most likely stand on. There are truly traces of nearly every trend to emerge in guitar based indie rock of the next 15 years on this record. Take the post rock beauty of opener "Big Day Coming". For seven minutes the track barely whispers its anticipatory lyrics, "There's a big day coming/And I can't hardly wait," as if scared that anything more and the delicate beauty would melt away. Only then to have the sonic pallette shattered with the distortion-drenched irrestible pop ride that is "From A Motel Six". "Superstar Watcher", into "Nowhere Near" find the band at their most atmospheric. Washes of smooth organ tones caress Georgia Hubley's sustained, gentle voice as she asks "Do you know how I feel?/How I feel about you?". "Sudden Organ" characterized by (you guessed it) stabs of reverbed organ blast, is the probable origin of all those Velvet Underground comparisons that only kind of made sense. On "I Was The Fool Beside You For Too Long" the band opens up for huge arena sized guitar chords, before toning down for a cover of The Only Ones tune, "The Whole Of The Law". Nowhere else does the band acheive the beauty of this track (which is considerable praise in a discography boasting 'And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out'). You hear the longing and almost feel distance as Ira and Georgia sing to each other, "I'd plumb the depths of every sea for you/I'd escape from my chains, and I'll reach out for you". In finale, the guitar cacophony that would come to characterize later Yo La Tengo freakouts is featured for 7 minutes straight on the visceral closer, "I Heard You Looking".
Ira Kaplan, Georgia Hubley, and James McNew. These three are the anti-rock stars. Mild mannered, slightly goofy looking people making music outside of any popular influence. To see these three, and then to hear them, is to be shocked. And yet that is their charm. To know the ferocity, the passion, the beauty, and the vision within three such ordinary folks, is to know these things in yourself. And to know that is anything but 'Painful'.
Best Tracks: "From A Motel Six", "Nowhere Near", "The Whole Of The Law"
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Catching Up '09 Round Three
Another slew of the new; at least relatively so. Lets see what the cat dragged in today.
The Dead Weather- 'Horehound'
The Dead Weather actually does sound remarkably like the sum of its parts; the harder rock of Queens Of The Stone Age, the sexiness of the Kills, and the blues of the White Stripes all surface in equal parts here. Over 'Icky Thump' and 'Consolers Of The Lonely', one couldn't help but feel that Jack White was slipping away from the roots that had originally made him so great. And while the same trends continue here, by taking the guitar out of his hands it is somehow so much easier to bear (not to mention solidifying suspicions that Dean Fertita can really play). Given the increasing rarity that a good hard rock record is these days, I probably tend to give The Dead Weather the benefit of the doubt in spots. When you get down to it though, 'Horehound' hits you hard right in the gut. With all the twee and folk proliferating hard drives these days, on occasion that is exactly what is needed. If nothing else, the album is a testament to the reality that sex and violence will always have a place in rock music.
Rating: 7.5/10
Best Tracks: "I Cut Like A Buffalo","Treat Me Like Your Mother", "New Pony"
Drug Rug- 'Paint The Fence Invisible'
A young couple playing music together: tougher than Mates of State, cuter than The White Stripes, lacking the folk of Bowerbirds, and with none of the mush of Hello, Blue Roses. You're right, that didn't really help at all. This music falls into the trap of having no truly unique characteristics apart from being straight-up indie rock. That said, it is pretty good straight-up indie rock. Fans of music running the gamut from Dr. Dog to the Unicorns to A.C. Newman's first record will all find a lot to like.
Rating: 6/10
Best Tracks: "Don't Be Frightened By The Devil", "Coffee In The Morning", "Sooner The Better"
Wheat- 'White Ink, Black Ink'
It is truly unfortunate for Wheat that Phoenix's 'Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix' beat their 'White Ink, Black Ink' to release. Both are electro-tinged, yet guitar based pop records that play on equal fields. If maybe a little slow to start, Wheat manages to take their listeners to more places along the musical journey than their contemporaries even try to. The melodies of the "singles" here may not be quite as catchy, but the record certainly carries its weight. Maybe three or four cuts short of being a truly exceptional record, it is at the least a good one.
Rating: 6.5/10
Best Tracks: "H.O.T.T.", "Music Is Drugs", "Mountains"
The Legends- 'Over And Over'
A record which is in many ways similar to The Raveonettes 2008 release 'Lust Lust Lust'. Lots of backwashed distortion for the sake of pure noise, often with a smooth 60's boy/girl vocal melody submerged somewhere just under the surface of the scuzz. It is not always a pleasing cacophony however. This is a highly produced, sought after buzz (not at all the no-fi hum of No Age or Wavves), which on cuts like "Seconds Away" and the title track, is just confounding. When the noise pulls back, there are some pleasing moments, but again they overdo it, often crossing from heartfelt territory into schmaltzy. For a record with so much promise, this one can be frustrating. That being said, if you can overlook a few grievances, there is a lot of fun to be had in between.
Rating: 5/10
Best Tracks: "Always The Same", "Heartbeats"
Lacrosse- 'Bandages For The Heart'
I can't help but think that the word pop doesn't quite do the music here justice, kind of like how the demure bear sitting on the cover in no way prepares you for the busting-out-of-the-speakers-raucous-synth-happiness-explosion that is Lacrosse. When the tunes have the melody to carry themselves, the sound works. On occasion however, the group find themselves outstripped by their own ambition. When this happens the record can come off as cheesy or plain annoying, but I must say that these moments are rare. Most of the time, the listener will find themselves won over by the dazzling charm and energy that characterizes the entirety of 'Bandages For The Heart'. I can't help but wish that the unison male/female vocals would make the occasional attempt at true harmony, but what Lacrosse lacks in chops they more than make up for in spirit.
Rating: 7/10
Best Tracks: "All The Little Things That You Do","Bandages For The Heart", "I See A Brightness"
Howling Bells- 'Radio Wars'
Besides giving Zooey Deschanel some stiff competition for the title of cutest girl in indie rock, Juanita Stein also fronts a band. Here her vocals are soaring and spacey, with nothing bearing the immediacy or crunch of the grungier tracks off the bands 2006 debut. The backing instrumentals give her the room to air out these melodies, yet effectively keep her from straying into the unstructured washes of noise characterizing artists like Bat For Lashes. This can make it hard to figure out what exactly Howling Bells are trying to be; not quite a straight rock band, and yet far from the lush pop of Mazzy Star. The heavy production bores, and sucks whatever character there is right out of the mix. I for see the group surmounting this identity crisis sometime in the future, but for the meantime, the music is just not that compelling.
Rating: 4/10
Best Tracks: "It Ain't You", "Digital Hearts"
The Dead Weather- 'Horehound'
The Dead Weather actually does sound remarkably like the sum of its parts; the harder rock of Queens Of The Stone Age, the sexiness of the Kills, and the blues of the White Stripes all surface in equal parts here. Over 'Icky Thump' and 'Consolers Of The Lonely', one couldn't help but feel that Jack White was slipping away from the roots that had originally made him so great. And while the same trends continue here, by taking the guitar out of his hands it is somehow so much easier to bear (not to mention solidifying suspicions that Dean Fertita can really play). Given the increasing rarity that a good hard rock record is these days, I probably tend to give The Dead Weather the benefit of the doubt in spots. When you get down to it though, 'Horehound' hits you hard right in the gut. With all the twee and folk proliferating hard drives these days, on occasion that is exactly what is needed. If nothing else, the album is a testament to the reality that sex and violence will always have a place in rock music.
Rating: 7.5/10
Best Tracks: "I Cut Like A Buffalo","Treat Me Like Your Mother", "New Pony"
Drug Rug- 'Paint The Fence Invisible'
A young couple playing music together: tougher than Mates of State, cuter than The White Stripes, lacking the folk of Bowerbirds, and with none of the mush of Hello, Blue Roses. You're right, that didn't really help at all. This music falls into the trap of having no truly unique characteristics apart from being straight-up indie rock. That said, it is pretty good straight-up indie rock. Fans of music running the gamut from Dr. Dog to the Unicorns to A.C. Newman's first record will all find a lot to like.
Rating: 6/10
Best Tracks: "Don't Be Frightened By The Devil", "Coffee In The Morning", "Sooner The Better"
Wheat- 'White Ink, Black Ink'
It is truly unfortunate for Wheat that Phoenix's 'Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix' beat their 'White Ink, Black Ink' to release. Both are electro-tinged, yet guitar based pop records that play on equal fields. If maybe a little slow to start, Wheat manages to take their listeners to more places along the musical journey than their contemporaries even try to. The melodies of the "singles" here may not be quite as catchy, but the record certainly carries its weight. Maybe three or four cuts short of being a truly exceptional record, it is at the least a good one.
Rating: 6.5/10
Best Tracks: "H.O.T.T.", "Music Is Drugs", "Mountains"
The Legends- 'Over And Over'
A record which is in many ways similar to The Raveonettes 2008 release 'Lust Lust Lust'. Lots of backwashed distortion for the sake of pure noise, often with a smooth 60's boy/girl vocal melody submerged somewhere just under the surface of the scuzz. It is not always a pleasing cacophony however. This is a highly produced, sought after buzz (not at all the no-fi hum of No Age or Wavves), which on cuts like "Seconds Away" and the title track, is just confounding. When the noise pulls back, there are some pleasing moments, but again they overdo it, often crossing from heartfelt territory into schmaltzy. For a record with so much promise, this one can be frustrating. That being said, if you can overlook a few grievances, there is a lot of fun to be had in between.
Rating: 5/10
Best Tracks: "Always The Same", "Heartbeats"
Lacrosse- 'Bandages For The Heart'
I can't help but think that the word pop doesn't quite do the music here justice, kind of like how the demure bear sitting on the cover in no way prepares you for the busting-out-of-the-speakers-raucous-synth-happiness-explosion that is Lacrosse. When the tunes have the melody to carry themselves, the sound works. On occasion however, the group find themselves outstripped by their own ambition. When this happens the record can come off as cheesy or plain annoying, but I must say that these moments are rare. Most of the time, the listener will find themselves won over by the dazzling charm and energy that characterizes the entirety of 'Bandages For The Heart'. I can't help but wish that the unison male/female vocals would make the occasional attempt at true harmony, but what Lacrosse lacks in chops they more than make up for in spirit.
Rating: 7/10
Best Tracks: "All The Little Things That You Do","Bandages For The Heart", "I See A Brightness"
Howling Bells- 'Radio Wars'
Besides giving Zooey Deschanel some stiff competition for the title of cutest girl in indie rock, Juanita Stein also fronts a band. Here her vocals are soaring and spacey, with nothing bearing the immediacy or crunch of the grungier tracks off the bands 2006 debut. The backing instrumentals give her the room to air out these melodies, yet effectively keep her from straying into the unstructured washes of noise characterizing artists like Bat For Lashes. This can make it hard to figure out what exactly Howling Bells are trying to be; not quite a straight rock band, and yet far from the lush pop of Mazzy Star. The heavy production bores, and sucks whatever character there is right out of the mix. I for see the group surmounting this identity crisis sometime in the future, but for the meantime, the music is just not that compelling.
Rating: 4/10
Best Tracks: "It Ain't You", "Digital Hearts"
Monday, August 3, 2009
Review: Clay Nightingale- (Self Titled)
Hailing from San Marcos, Texas, are unsigned artists Clay Nightingale. As far as background goes, there is really not too much more I can tell you. The groups myspace page reveals each of the band-members names, but their respective roles, or any true insight into the groups history are not to be found. What is to be found however, are two records; 2008's 'The River and Then the Restless Wind', and 2009's self titled outing.
In regards to the more recent record in question, all feelings of estrangement end after one spin of the disc. In fact, you will most likely feel as if you just spent a week together with these guys. The lyrics to be found here are among the best of the year; immediately accessible and relatable, and yet offering up a fresh sentiment that I only now realize is notably absent from most of pop culture. Though on the surface much of the subject matter seems to relate to nothing more than hanging out and drinking beers, there is hardly a feeling of contentment behind these actions. Rather, we are painted a picture of the late twenties, single male, leading a comfortable yet unfulfilling American life. This record is a testament to that quest, that yearning for fulfillment. The charm of the record, is that it does not try to recreate this yearning in epic Arcade Fire-esque sweeps of theatricality. It does so through simple retellings about afternoons with friends and small happenings in town, painted with subtle Americana brushstrokes in a way that none but Clay Nightingale have quite captured.
The record opens with "Eric McMullen", a classic example of how the wordplay here is open to endless analyzation, without the pitfalls of simply being cryptic. When they drop their own band name in the last lyric of the track (referring to hanging an actual clay nightingale on a Christmas tree for a girl), one could go on for hours trying to decipher what exactly this is signifying: is their music naught but superficial adornment? a testament to stifled and confused love? or was he really just telling a straight story? Whatever the answer is, the poetry remains wholly satisfying. The brilliant "Last Paycheck" follows; arguably an anthem for some lost generation. After anecdotes about spending time at the movies or laying out on trampolines, the singer wonders "if the key to this whole mess, is really in the engine of an old parked car". As the tinkling piano, offset rhythmically by guitar couplets, drops down into resolution, he emphatically states "Man if I don't quit my job, I think I'm gonna lose my mind/I'll grab my last paycheck, Maybe it'll be enough to fill the tank in our new ride/Drive it until sunrise". The discontentment of this record is consistently offset by similar joys however. Joy born most easily by spending time (and usually drinking) with people they love. On "How We Outdrink The Silver Pines" this is most evident; the Silver Pines being friends in another band. The marriage of these two consistent offsetting sentiments, a loathing of the everyday lonely American life verse the joy of being with people you love, often yields the obvious solution of "let's run away together" (as it does in some form or another on "Eric McMullen", "Last Paycheck", "Look Out Driver", "Move To The Woods", etc.). However, by the closer, "Losin It", it has become apparent that this will never happen. It is now when you realize what the familiar sentiment characterizing the music this whole time has been: resignation.
(Sidenote: It is also worth noting that the singers deadpan delivery makes for some great moments of comic levity here as well, which is only appropriate. On one hand you have the badminton based subplot of "1314 San Antonio St.", and on another you have the hilarious line, "Life handed us tomato juice/So we made micheladas for everyone".)
Musically, the tracks accompanying the poetry here are consistently well performed and produced. Often minimalist in scope, but never unwilling to lay a little pedal steel into the mix, very rarely is the band allowed to exercise the dynamic creativity they obviously have. We see flashes of this on the subtle bombast of the outro on "How We Outdrink The Silver Pines", and the staccato violin stabs of "Losin It". Mostly however, the Texas outfit sticks to the formula of pitting stripped down mid-tempo Americana as sepia toned backdrops to the tales playing out within them. The constant balladry does get a little tiresome, particularly on "Bring An Autoharp" ("1314 San Antonio St." is probably the closest thing to a pop song here), but for the most part the instrumentals resonate aptly.
The record closes with the singer asking, "And how are we not freakin' out? How are we not losin' it?". The fact is however that he has already provided the answer. Clay Nightingale may be coming to those hard realizations that their is no perfect romance, no end to a quest for identity, and no higher meaning to be sought in an average life. And as small and lonely and desperate as that makes us all feel, they have certainly come to terms with it more sensibly than most: with good drink, good friends, and most of all, damn good music.
Rating: 8.5/10
Best Tracks: "Last Paycheck", "How We Outdrink The Silver Pines", "Losin It"
In regards to the more recent record in question, all feelings of estrangement end after one spin of the disc. In fact, you will most likely feel as if you just spent a week together with these guys. The lyrics to be found here are among the best of the year; immediately accessible and relatable, and yet offering up a fresh sentiment that I only now realize is notably absent from most of pop culture. Though on the surface much of the subject matter seems to relate to nothing more than hanging out and drinking beers, there is hardly a feeling of contentment behind these actions. Rather, we are painted a picture of the late twenties, single male, leading a comfortable yet unfulfilling American life. This record is a testament to that quest, that yearning for fulfillment. The charm of the record, is that it does not try to recreate this yearning in epic Arcade Fire-esque sweeps of theatricality. It does so through simple retellings about afternoons with friends and small happenings in town, painted with subtle Americana brushstrokes in a way that none but Clay Nightingale have quite captured.
The record opens with "Eric McMullen", a classic example of how the wordplay here is open to endless analyzation, without the pitfalls of simply being cryptic. When they drop their own band name in the last lyric of the track (referring to hanging an actual clay nightingale on a Christmas tree for a girl), one could go on for hours trying to decipher what exactly this is signifying: is their music naught but superficial adornment? a testament to stifled and confused love? or was he really just telling a straight story? Whatever the answer is, the poetry remains wholly satisfying. The brilliant "Last Paycheck" follows; arguably an anthem for some lost generation. After anecdotes about spending time at the movies or laying out on trampolines, the singer wonders "if the key to this whole mess, is really in the engine of an old parked car". As the tinkling piano, offset rhythmically by guitar couplets, drops down into resolution, he emphatically states "Man if I don't quit my job, I think I'm gonna lose my mind/I'll grab my last paycheck, Maybe it'll be enough to fill the tank in our new ride/Drive it until sunrise". The discontentment of this record is consistently offset by similar joys however. Joy born most easily by spending time (and usually drinking) with people they love. On "How We Outdrink The Silver Pines" this is most evident; the Silver Pines being friends in another band. The marriage of these two consistent offsetting sentiments, a loathing of the everyday lonely American life verse the joy of being with people you love, often yields the obvious solution of "let's run away together" (as it does in some form or another on "Eric McMullen", "Last Paycheck", "Look Out Driver", "Move To The Woods", etc.). However, by the closer, "Losin It", it has become apparent that this will never happen. It is now when you realize what the familiar sentiment characterizing the music this whole time has been: resignation.
(Sidenote: It is also worth noting that the singers deadpan delivery makes for some great moments of comic levity here as well, which is only appropriate. On one hand you have the badminton based subplot of "1314 San Antonio St.", and on another you have the hilarious line, "Life handed us tomato juice/So we made micheladas for everyone".)
Musically, the tracks accompanying the poetry here are consistently well performed and produced. Often minimalist in scope, but never unwilling to lay a little pedal steel into the mix, very rarely is the band allowed to exercise the dynamic creativity they obviously have. We see flashes of this on the subtle bombast of the outro on "How We Outdrink The Silver Pines", and the staccato violin stabs of "Losin It". Mostly however, the Texas outfit sticks to the formula of pitting stripped down mid-tempo Americana as sepia toned backdrops to the tales playing out within them. The constant balladry does get a little tiresome, particularly on "Bring An Autoharp" ("1314 San Antonio St." is probably the closest thing to a pop song here), but for the most part the instrumentals resonate aptly.
The record closes with the singer asking, "And how are we not freakin' out? How are we not losin' it?". The fact is however that he has already provided the answer. Clay Nightingale may be coming to those hard realizations that their is no perfect romance, no end to a quest for identity, and no higher meaning to be sought in an average life. And as small and lonely and desperate as that makes us all feel, they have certainly come to terms with it more sensibly than most: with good drink, good friends, and most of all, damn good music.
Rating: 8.5/10
Best Tracks: "Last Paycheck", "How We Outdrink The Silver Pines", "Losin It"
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Industry Commentary: Blurred Lines
We've all heard the old cliche; "Yer generation just don't make no good music anymurr!" The fact is however that more music is being made, and being made available to mass audiences, in modern times than ever before. And consequently, more good music is being made as well. Thats right, I said it. The 1960's cannot hold a candle to the first decade of the new milennium. Granted, todays music is hugely in debt to everything that has been done before it, but that is simply the nature of history. The facts still remain. The question here, is why. And the answer quite obviously is the internet.
The bad rep our generation gets pegged with stems almost completely from what is considered "popular" music in todays society (quite a different thing from "pop" music at this point, I must point out). Popular music has always been characterized, most easily, by what gets played on the radio. This is a grossly unfair evaluation of the state of music however, as radio is long dead. Don't even bother bringing out the paddles. At one point being the medium of learning about new bands and simply listening to music, it is now a lifeless mass of sonic sludge. In order to make my point: you undoubtedly have the 'classic rock' station in your city, yes? And every time you flip to it you know exactly what you are going to hear. The same one hundred songs, characterized of the same tired Steve Miller to CCR to The Rolling Stones to Aerosmith, and that one Bob Seger song that no one has truly enjoyed in two decades. You'll here Led Zeppelin, but never a cut like "Bron Y Aur Stomp". If you get Pink Floyd it will be "Money". If your lucky enough to hear T. Rex it will undoubtedly be "Bang A Gong (Get it On)". Somehow, a classic rock radio station, after years of existence, will have never played cuts by acts like King Crimson, The Pretty Things, The Zombies, or Van der Graaf Generator. Much less deep cuts from Traffic, Jethro Tull, The Kinks, etc. My point being that none of these "classic rock dj's" has made a concious decision when it comes to what they are about to spin twenty years. And lack of conciousness is death. Not convinced yet? All things must evolve in order to stay alive. Are Talking Heads not yet classic enough to get a cut here and there? Would anyone really change the station if Pixies "Where Is My Mind?" came on the air? Not to mention that a rock station should see it as their sole responsibility to preserve a genre (if not radio, who else is going to do it?). Yet, have you ever heard the Black Keys or the Raconteurs on such a station? Where is their deserved air time coming from? Natural selection has spoken- radio is dead.
You may argue that by picking a station that plays ostensibly old music, I made it easier on myself. But the popular stations of today are really no different from popular stations of the 60's. These stations are not reactions to what people like, they generate what people like. Those who are not inclined to seek music on their own simply flip on the radio, and hence are then more likely to buy a record that they have some familiarity with. These said records, are just as corporately influenced ("manufactured" so to speak) today as they were fifty years ago. We have Lady Ga Ga, they had the Monkees. If the oldtimers change their argument to "our manufactured music was better than yours is.." I will humbly concede.
As we all remember from our highschool biology courses, when an ecological niche is left empty something quickly comes scurrying in to fill it. Exit radio, enter internet. The internet did not take this spot without competition. For awhile car commercials were seeming to emerge as the new medium for musical discovery (God help us..), and one could argue that the movie "Garden State" did more for popularizing a slew of talented underground acts than any other single influence post year 2000. In the end, however, the internet was just too big, too powerful, and had too many options. Hooray, we are saved! Right? Or is the internet, seemingly the saviour of music, slowly destroying it...
Its an old conundrum. An ecosystem has too many snakes, so they import mongooses. Now the snakes are gone, but there is a mongoose problem. A city has too much crime, so they bolster up the police. Now crime is gone, but there is a cop problem. The music industry is stifled, so it unleashes itself to the world via internet. Now we can all hear the music, but yes, there is an internet problem. I don't really need to outline it for you. Music has become devalued. Through file sharing anyone can hear anything (and everything) for free. Artists are forced to stream albums pre-release just to get the quality version heard, as opposed to the leak. iTunes has built a singles obsessed culture, and copyright laws as far as sampling and remixing goes are all but irrelevant. Music is in chaos. But a glorious chaos it is. Just like a riot on a city street, windows are being smashed and flat screen TV's run off with. Because the beauty of chaos, is opportunity. With all things equal, why yes, I'll listen to Spoon's new record, and why not have a large helping of these three completely unknown acts as well? There's no reason not to, and the unknown bands love it. They finally have equal footing with the big boys. Shelf space they would never dream of in a record store, is theirs for the taking if they simply put it on the net. Essentially, where this is going, is one central question. Is the creation of music primarily a business (to which the internet seeks to destroy), an art (which the net has accelerated)?
In a capitalistic society, pragmatically you must admit that business is a real concern. Without monetary means to devote a life to making music, there will be no more 'Abbey Road', or 'Come On Feel The Illinoise!". However, from the art perspective, there has never been such an explosion since the Renaissance. So logically we ask, how did the Renaissance solve this problem? Patronage. Independent, wealthy men, who paid artists to simply live and make art. Yes, it sounds naive and idealistic, but this really happened. You may argue that record labels fill this void, but a record label is too firmly rooted in capitalist modalities. Meaning, simply, its all about the money. If bands aren't being profitable, they are either dropped or "urged" to change their sound. Tours are structured around convenience and cost. In the end record labels are about pushing merch and licensing. The key, is to remove artists from the sphere of capitalism altogether. In this way, they are completely removed from all of the hindrances of the internet's blurred lines between the two. There will be no pressure to put everything out for free simply to get it heard, and there will be no need for comprimising the medium in which it is conveyed for the sake of listener convenience. All choices made, would be made based on artistic, and not business decisions. For example, artists wouldn't need to (for the sake of necessity) sign with iTunes, where there works of labor and love will be chopped up by listeners to lone tracks. They won't need to stream albums weeks before release. Tours could take on more originality. Heck, they could release everything exclusively on vinyl, just because, if that's what the muses were telling them. At the same time however, the internet would remain as it is, an outlet for everybody, simply without all the blurred lines.
To begin with, I call upon Paul Mcartney, David Bowie, Bruce Springstein, Robert Plant, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, David Gilmour, Brian Eno, Thom Yorke, and Steve Winwood. Find young, artistically minded, talented young acts. Take them under your wing. I'm not talking about just giving them a shout out, I'm not talking about just letting them record in your studio. Give them a salary. Give them the resources to do whatever it is that their zeal for music drives them to do. After these fine gentlemen have sewn the seeds, and the fruits have been tasted, the trend will catch. We will have billionaires like Donald Trump and Bill Gates doing the same, and patronage will be born again at last. The second renaissance truly come. And as good as music is now- oh I can only imagine.
I can only think of one example in modern times of a somewhat similar relationship. I think it had to do with an oddball named Andy Warhol, and a group who called themselves the Velvet Underground... convinced yet? You know what has to be done. Implore your neighborhood superstar until they just can't say no. Just as radio turned over to the fruitful age of the internet, the next step must invariably come.
The bad rep our generation gets pegged with stems almost completely from what is considered "popular" music in todays society (quite a different thing from "pop" music at this point, I must point out). Popular music has always been characterized, most easily, by what gets played on the radio. This is a grossly unfair evaluation of the state of music however, as radio is long dead. Don't even bother bringing out the paddles. At one point being the medium of learning about new bands and simply listening to music, it is now a lifeless mass of sonic sludge. In order to make my point: you undoubtedly have the 'classic rock' station in your city, yes? And every time you flip to it you know exactly what you are going to hear. The same one hundred songs, characterized of the same tired Steve Miller to CCR to The Rolling Stones to Aerosmith, and that one Bob Seger song that no one has truly enjoyed in two decades. You'll here Led Zeppelin, but never a cut like "Bron Y Aur Stomp". If you get Pink Floyd it will be "Money". If your lucky enough to hear T. Rex it will undoubtedly be "Bang A Gong (Get it On)". Somehow, a classic rock radio station, after years of existence, will have never played cuts by acts like King Crimson, The Pretty Things, The Zombies, or Van der Graaf Generator. Much less deep cuts from Traffic, Jethro Tull, The Kinks, etc. My point being that none of these "classic rock dj's" has made a concious decision when it comes to what they are about to spin twenty years. And lack of conciousness is death. Not convinced yet? All things must evolve in order to stay alive. Are Talking Heads not yet classic enough to get a cut here and there? Would anyone really change the station if Pixies "Where Is My Mind?" came on the air? Not to mention that a rock station should see it as their sole responsibility to preserve a genre (if not radio, who else is going to do it?). Yet, have you ever heard the Black Keys or the Raconteurs on such a station? Where is their deserved air time coming from? Natural selection has spoken- radio is dead.
You may argue that by picking a station that plays ostensibly old music, I made it easier on myself. But the popular stations of today are really no different from popular stations of the 60's. These stations are not reactions to what people like, they generate what people like. Those who are not inclined to seek music on their own simply flip on the radio, and hence are then more likely to buy a record that they have some familiarity with. These said records, are just as corporately influenced ("manufactured" so to speak) today as they were fifty years ago. We have Lady Ga Ga, they had the Monkees. If the oldtimers change their argument to "our manufactured music was better than yours is.." I will humbly concede.
As we all remember from our highschool biology courses, when an ecological niche is left empty something quickly comes scurrying in to fill it. Exit radio, enter internet. The internet did not take this spot without competition. For awhile car commercials were seeming to emerge as the new medium for musical discovery (God help us..), and one could argue that the movie "Garden State" did more for popularizing a slew of talented underground acts than any other single influence post year 2000. In the end, however, the internet was just too big, too powerful, and had too many options. Hooray, we are saved! Right? Or is the internet, seemingly the saviour of music, slowly destroying it...
Its an old conundrum. An ecosystem has too many snakes, so they import mongooses. Now the snakes are gone, but there is a mongoose problem. A city has too much crime, so they bolster up the police. Now crime is gone, but there is a cop problem. The music industry is stifled, so it unleashes itself to the world via internet. Now we can all hear the music, but yes, there is an internet problem. I don't really need to outline it for you. Music has become devalued. Through file sharing anyone can hear anything (and everything) for free. Artists are forced to stream albums pre-release just to get the quality version heard, as opposed to the leak. iTunes has built a singles obsessed culture, and copyright laws as far as sampling and remixing goes are all but irrelevant. Music is in chaos. But a glorious chaos it is. Just like a riot on a city street, windows are being smashed and flat screen TV's run off with. Because the beauty of chaos, is opportunity. With all things equal, why yes, I'll listen to Spoon's new record, and why not have a large helping of these three completely unknown acts as well? There's no reason not to, and the unknown bands love it. They finally have equal footing with the big boys. Shelf space they would never dream of in a record store, is theirs for the taking if they simply put it on the net. Essentially, where this is going, is one central question. Is the creation of music primarily a business (to which the internet seeks to destroy), an art (which the net has accelerated)?
In a capitalistic society, pragmatically you must admit that business is a real concern. Without monetary means to devote a life to making music, there will be no more 'Abbey Road', or 'Come On Feel The Illinoise!". However, from the art perspective, there has never been such an explosion since the Renaissance. So logically we ask, how did the Renaissance solve this problem? Patronage. Independent, wealthy men, who paid artists to simply live and make art. Yes, it sounds naive and idealistic, but this really happened. You may argue that record labels fill this void, but a record label is too firmly rooted in capitalist modalities. Meaning, simply, its all about the money. If bands aren't being profitable, they are either dropped or "urged" to change their sound. Tours are structured around convenience and cost. In the end record labels are about pushing merch and licensing. The key, is to remove artists from the sphere of capitalism altogether. In this way, they are completely removed from all of the hindrances of the internet's blurred lines between the two. There will be no pressure to put everything out for free simply to get it heard, and there will be no need for comprimising the medium in which it is conveyed for the sake of listener convenience. All choices made, would be made based on artistic, and not business decisions. For example, artists wouldn't need to (for the sake of necessity) sign with iTunes, where there works of labor and love will be chopped up by listeners to lone tracks. They won't need to stream albums weeks before release. Tours could take on more originality. Heck, they could release everything exclusively on vinyl, just because, if that's what the muses were telling them. At the same time however, the internet would remain as it is, an outlet for everybody, simply without all the blurred lines.
To begin with, I call upon Paul Mcartney, David Bowie, Bruce Springstein, Robert Plant, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, David Gilmour, Brian Eno, Thom Yorke, and Steve Winwood. Find young, artistically minded, talented young acts. Take them under your wing. I'm not talking about just giving them a shout out, I'm not talking about just letting them record in your studio. Give them a salary. Give them the resources to do whatever it is that their zeal for music drives them to do. After these fine gentlemen have sewn the seeds, and the fruits have been tasted, the trend will catch. We will have billionaires like Donald Trump and Bill Gates doing the same, and patronage will be born again at last. The second renaissance truly come. And as good as music is now- oh I can only imagine.
I can only think of one example in modern times of a somewhat similar relationship. I think it had to do with an oddball named Andy Warhol, and a group who called themselves the Velvet Underground... convinced yet? You know what has to be done. Implore your neighborhood superstar until they just can't say no. Just as radio turned over to the fruitful age of the internet, the next step must invariably come.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Albums I Love: The Village Green Preservation Society
While the influence of some bands will manifest immediately, spawning a surge of sound alikes attempting to saturate radio waves while the trend is still fresh, others may linger for years before fully coming to fruition. In this case, I am alluding to The Kinks and their 1968 album 'The Village Green Preservation Society'. And the hangover influence I refer to, thankfully, has nothing to do with Van Halen. By '68 the Kinks (led by songwriter Ray Davies) had dropped the straightforward riff heavy radio pop that gave the world "You Really Got Me", and moved into, although still distinctly pop, much more obscure territory. In fact the album failed to even chart on its release, a possible explanation why further forays into the material being mined here weren't truly picked up again until 23 years later in 1991 with the formation of the Elephant Six collective.
Now I, being somewhat of an Elephant Six enthusiast, don't want to trick any casual listeners into thinking that they have just discovered the predecessor to 'In The Aeroplane Over The Sea'. Likewise, 'Village Green' does not go anywhere near the heavily psychedelic or ambient experimentation of The Olivia Tremor Control. To those who are looking for the parent of the quirky, concept based, sunny pop releases like Of Montreal's 'Cherry Peel' or 'Gay Parade', Elf Power's 'Dream In Sound', The Essex Green's 'Cannibal Sea', The Apple In Stereo's 'When The Red King Comes', or even, in not quite so lo-fi a fashion, The Music Tapes 'First Imaginary Symphony For Nomad', there is not a more quintessential record to point straight back to.
On 'Village Green' there is a consistent and heavy theme throughout which is solidified by the title: nostalgia. The theme is epitomized by the title track ("We are the office block persecution affinity/God save little shops, china cups and virginity.."), and then pounded home time and again on subsequent songs like "Do You Remember Walter?", "Picture Book", "The Last of The Steam Powered Trains", etc. Each paint a portrait, either of small town values, ideal heros, childhood, or family. Side two then begins with "Animal Farm", and the overarching statement "This world is big and wild and half insane..". From there the record becomes, well, quirky. Perhaps in an expression of how insane the world has become, songs characterize the destruction of the village green ("Village Green"), world-traveling-speaking-obese felines ("Phenomenal Cat"), and child-eating witches ("Wicked Annabella"), among other things. The album concludes with "People Take Pictures of Each Other", a brilliant satirical stab at how futile such grabs at nostalgia are. The past, ultimately, is stuck in those little snapshots. The song, in keeping with the album however, manages to make this ominous statement more in an expression of joy than hopelessness.
Nostalgia has always been at the heart of E6, but oftentimes passed off as a mere musical nostalgia. Close listens to "The Gay Parade" (an opus to the small town) or "First Imaginary Symphony For Nomad" (a zany sort of argument against television) show that the ties do in fact run deeper than this. If nothing else, the sheer childlike innocence exuded by so many of the early E6 records is nostalgic in itself. And like 'Village Green', the "sort-of concept album" is a staple within the collective. Albums tied together by loose messages (which while never didacticly pounded home, and never allowed to pull the music in a direction it would not otherwise be headed) are never so typified outside of the two examples portrayed here. And while the 60's was a time of experimentation, no one else at the time had the sheer unabashed quirkiness to put out the kind of lyrical insanity over such subdued, gentle backing tracks, as if it all were perfectly normal, as Ray Davies. Had this ever truly resurfaced until Elf Power and "Simon (the Bird With the Candy Bar Head)"? It had not. Perhaps the largest tie here, however, is simply that despite all of the concepts and quirk crowding such records, every track is unfailingly appealing and listenable. Consistently excellent pop material. Over top the odd instrumentation and lyrical content, this is still toe tapping sing along 60's rock. And frankly, as any E6'r already knows, its a lot of fun to be able to sink your teeth into something a little juicier than "Love Me Do" on occasion.
Essentially, this is what I'm saying: in 1968 a seed was planted, a seed called "The Village Green Preservation Society". Invisibly it grew for 20+ years, until the tree finally began to branch out in myriad directions, ultimately giving birth to the rightful followers it deserved (E6). Then Nickee Coco climbed the tree and fell asleep in it. Point being, if you picked up on that last sentence, you need to hear this record. Honestly, you owe it to the world to "help save fu manchu, moriarty and dracula", and you owe it to yourself to listen to The Kinks.
Best Tracks: "The Village Green Preservation Society", "Picture Book", "Big Sky"
Now I, being somewhat of an Elephant Six enthusiast, don't want to trick any casual listeners into thinking that they have just discovered the predecessor to 'In The Aeroplane Over The Sea'. Likewise, 'Village Green' does not go anywhere near the heavily psychedelic or ambient experimentation of The Olivia Tremor Control. To those who are looking for the parent of the quirky, concept based, sunny pop releases like Of Montreal's 'Cherry Peel' or 'Gay Parade', Elf Power's 'Dream In Sound', The Essex Green's 'Cannibal Sea', The Apple In Stereo's 'When The Red King Comes', or even, in not quite so lo-fi a fashion, The Music Tapes 'First Imaginary Symphony For Nomad', there is not a more quintessential record to point straight back to.
On 'Village Green' there is a consistent and heavy theme throughout which is solidified by the title: nostalgia. The theme is epitomized by the title track ("We are the office block persecution affinity/God save little shops, china cups and virginity.."), and then pounded home time and again on subsequent songs like "Do You Remember Walter?", "Picture Book", "The Last of The Steam Powered Trains", etc. Each paint a portrait, either of small town values, ideal heros, childhood, or family. Side two then begins with "Animal Farm", and the overarching statement "This world is big and wild and half insane..". From there the record becomes, well, quirky. Perhaps in an expression of how insane the world has become, songs characterize the destruction of the village green ("Village Green"), world-traveling-speaking-obese felines ("Phenomenal Cat"), and child-eating witches ("Wicked Annabella"), among other things. The album concludes with "People Take Pictures of Each Other", a brilliant satirical stab at how futile such grabs at nostalgia are. The past, ultimately, is stuck in those little snapshots. The song, in keeping with the album however, manages to make this ominous statement more in an expression of joy than hopelessness.
Nostalgia has always been at the heart of E6, but oftentimes passed off as a mere musical nostalgia. Close listens to "The Gay Parade" (an opus to the small town) or "First Imaginary Symphony For Nomad" (a zany sort of argument against television) show that the ties do in fact run deeper than this. If nothing else, the sheer childlike innocence exuded by so many of the early E6 records is nostalgic in itself. And like 'Village Green', the "sort-of concept album" is a staple within the collective. Albums tied together by loose messages (which while never didacticly pounded home, and never allowed to pull the music in a direction it would not otherwise be headed) are never so typified outside of the two examples portrayed here. And while the 60's was a time of experimentation, no one else at the time had the sheer unabashed quirkiness to put out the kind of lyrical insanity over such subdued, gentle backing tracks, as if it all were perfectly normal, as Ray Davies. Had this ever truly resurfaced until Elf Power and "Simon (the Bird With the Candy Bar Head)"? It had not. Perhaps the largest tie here, however, is simply that despite all of the concepts and quirk crowding such records, every track is unfailingly appealing and listenable. Consistently excellent pop material. Over top the odd instrumentation and lyrical content, this is still toe tapping sing along 60's rock. And frankly, as any E6'r already knows, its a lot of fun to be able to sink your teeth into something a little juicier than "Love Me Do" on occasion.
Essentially, this is what I'm saying: in 1968 a seed was planted, a seed called "The Village Green Preservation Society". Invisibly it grew for 20+ years, until the tree finally began to branch out in myriad directions, ultimately giving birth to the rightful followers it deserved (E6). Then Nickee Coco climbed the tree and fell asleep in it. Point being, if you picked up on that last sentence, you need to hear this record. Honestly, you owe it to the world to "help save fu manchu, moriarty and dracula", and you owe it to yourself to listen to The Kinks.
Best Tracks: "The Village Green Preservation Society", "Picture Book", "Big Sky"
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Review: The Rural Alberta Advantage- Hometowns
What is indie? At one point or another you have undoubtedly been asked to explain by someone, whether simply a musically skeptical friend or even your mom. Each time the fumbled explanation comes out the same. "Well, you see, it started as having to do with labels, but now that doesn't really matter so much, and it can really sound like anything I suppose..." In a world where the indie blanket spans from Beirut to LCD Soundsystem, how do you explain it? The "if you have to ask you'll never know" approach, while maybe applicable, is a cop out. When it comes to indie at its roots, down to its very core, it is in fact one of the most unmistakable 'genres' in existence. I am speaking of the indie of Pavement's 'Slanted & Enchanted', of Guided by Voices 'Bee Thousand'; and it is that unmistakable, ramshackle, heartfelt, homemade brand of pop that distinctly characterizes the debut from The Rural Alberta Advantage.
Testament to this, 'Hometowns' has been out, self released, for about a year. It wasn't until recently in 2009 that Saddle Creek picked up the band and gave the record its deserved proper release. And what a record it is- immediately likable, and yet undeniably and consistently flawed. A producer or some sort of editor perusing this collection of songs would certainly have streamlined what we have before us into a more succinct and enjoyable listen. (For instance, what does the under-two-minute-long "Four Night Rider" really bring to the table here?) However, in many ways enduring the flaws and missteps of the album, while finding amongst them every sparkling joy, makes the honesty and earnestness of the album all the more apparent. It is almost as if watching a child grow, at times being slightly disappointed in their behavior, but in the end being unable to do anymore then let out that caged smile and affectionately ruffle the toddlers hair.
The first misstep appears on the opening track, "The Ballad of the RAA". Despite seemingly trying to encapsulate the band within this one track (based on the title), the desperate yearning of Nils Edenloff's voice is a bit much to stomach before having time to become fully acclimated to it. Throughout the track his vocals are always stretching just a little higher (for the note perhaps?) with not but a lone kick from a drum machine and simple synth riff to distract. It is followed by the immediately likable folksy jaunt of "Rush Apart", and the album has hit the ground running. There are very few "perfect" songs here. Each have elements that detract. However, as soon as you begin losing faith in a particular track, something will happen. A harmony, a lyric, a rhythmic break, and the song will be heard anew and become completely engaging again. Yes, this makes for quite a roller coaster ride of a listen, but a wholeheartedly compelling listen as well. One of the most compelling elements being the evolution of Edenloff's aforementioned voice. Sometimes a beast all his own, and at other times channeling almost hauntingly Jeff Mangum ("Luciana") or Colin Meloy ("Frank AB"). Is it this voice that often makes this feel almost like folk music? Possibly some combination of that and the sheer honesty this music is drenched in. The lo-fi nature of the recording keeps the synth's from sounding quite so electronic, and the band and record name don't help the issue. The fact is however, as solidified by gems like "Don't Haunt This Place" and "The Air", that this record is the definition of indie pop.
It is refreshing to see, 17 years after Pavement christened a new type of music "Indie", definable and quality indie records still being made. If nothing else, maybe the album's sheer likability draws from this alone. It is no impostor. No major label slouch vying for street cred. No zany genre experiment tossed off into the only category that would take it. These are a couple of Canadian kids making music they love for each other in a garage. And for the next time your mom asks, that, my friends, is indie.
Best Tracks: "Don't Haunt This Place", "The Air", "Edmonton"
Rating: 6.5/10
Testament to this, 'Hometowns' has been out, self released, for about a year. It wasn't until recently in 2009 that Saddle Creek picked up the band and gave the record its deserved proper release. And what a record it is- immediately likable, and yet undeniably and consistently flawed. A producer or some sort of editor perusing this collection of songs would certainly have streamlined what we have before us into a more succinct and enjoyable listen. (For instance, what does the under-two-minute-long "Four Night Rider" really bring to the table here?) However, in many ways enduring the flaws and missteps of the album, while finding amongst them every sparkling joy, makes the honesty and earnestness of the album all the more apparent. It is almost as if watching a child grow, at times being slightly disappointed in their behavior, but in the end being unable to do anymore then let out that caged smile and affectionately ruffle the toddlers hair.
The first misstep appears on the opening track, "The Ballad of the RAA". Despite seemingly trying to encapsulate the band within this one track (based on the title), the desperate yearning of Nils Edenloff's voice is a bit much to stomach before having time to become fully acclimated to it. Throughout the track his vocals are always stretching just a little higher (for the note perhaps?) with not but a lone kick from a drum machine and simple synth riff to distract. It is followed by the immediately likable folksy jaunt of "Rush Apart", and the album has hit the ground running. There are very few "perfect" songs here. Each have elements that detract. However, as soon as you begin losing faith in a particular track, something will happen. A harmony, a lyric, a rhythmic break, and the song will be heard anew and become completely engaging again. Yes, this makes for quite a roller coaster ride of a listen, but a wholeheartedly compelling listen as well. One of the most compelling elements being the evolution of Edenloff's aforementioned voice. Sometimes a beast all his own, and at other times channeling almost hauntingly Jeff Mangum ("Luciana") or Colin Meloy ("Frank AB"). Is it this voice that often makes this feel almost like folk music? Possibly some combination of that and the sheer honesty this music is drenched in. The lo-fi nature of the recording keeps the synth's from sounding quite so electronic, and the band and record name don't help the issue. The fact is however, as solidified by gems like "Don't Haunt This Place" and "The Air", that this record is the definition of indie pop.
It is refreshing to see, 17 years after Pavement christened a new type of music "Indie", definable and quality indie records still being made. If nothing else, maybe the album's sheer likability draws from this alone. It is no impostor. No major label slouch vying for street cred. No zany genre experiment tossed off into the only category that would take it. These are a couple of Canadian kids making music they love for each other in a garage. And for the next time your mom asks, that, my friends, is indie.
Best Tracks: "Don't Haunt This Place", "The Air", "Edmonton"
Rating: 6.5/10
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