Saturday, December 1, 2007

Music Bonanza (PART 7)

MUSIC BONANZA - PART SEVEN
Enon - Akron/Family - Rufus Wainwright - Justice - Richard Hawley -
Band Of Horses - Raveonettes - Dirty Projectors - Besnard Lakes

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GRASS GEYSERS... CARBON CLOUDS - Enon
Seven years into Enon's career, fans know to expect the unexpected - which is in this case, the completely expectable. So then, frothy pop & big guitars, done well. After a four-year gap between records, Enon seem radio and arena-ready, and that's probably where they'd sound best.
Grass Geysers is full of sleek pop, but with more concentration on the equivalent of textures and accents. Case in points are; the pervasive handclaps of "Mirror on You"; the interlude of chirping birds on the otherwise lean "Colette"; the low electric gurgle of bass on "Dr. Freeze"; and the woozy robot growl of "Law of Johnny Dolittle".
The album's centerpieces, and most straightforward rockers, are "Pigeneration" and "Mr. Ratatatatat". The former opens with a drumbeat reminiscent of "Sunday Bloody Sunday" before Yasuda coos a few words over Schmersal's glistening, echoing chords. The latter is a tag-team between Yasuda and Schmersal that moves from dissonant guitar crunch to big-rock bluster.
Still, it might be the record's final third that's the most rewarding-- even if it doesn't contain any out-and-out crowd-pleasers. "Paperweights" marries stormy percussion to B-movie keyboards that never repeat the same tone twice. The scratchy drum loop that opens "Labyrinth" grabs just as much attention as the jagged scrape of guitar strings, and "Ashish" has Yasuda pleading over a dub-like throb and minimal atmosphere of early Cure records. Even with the more straightforward tracks before it, it says something that Grass Geysers... still seems like a seamless record throughout.

Download: Enon - GRASS GEYSERS... CARBON CLOUDS
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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LOVE IS SIMPLE - Akron/Family
Since their inception, Akron/Family have seemed to enjoy playing in the shadows. As the backing band for Angels of Light, the shadow personality is former Swans frontman Michael Gira. Yet, on their own records, it's a variation of folk music and electronics that hide out in the darkened corners. Love Is Simple, their latest release on Gira's Young God label, seems designed to change all that.
An absurd and occasionally awkward celebration of the natural world, Love Is Simple is Akron/Family's bold, unvarnished paean to discovering nature, through a fusion of drum-circle bliss and classic rock. The best introduction to this new style comes four tracks into the record, with the joyous "I've Got Some Friends". Initially evoking the Mothers of Invention's We're Only in It for the Money with its unhinged lo-fi folk-rock opening, the song soon segues into a hillbilly country greeting that reflects the album's sunny disposition.
The often hammy results of unmitigated hippie gaiety is sure to alienate some fans; the vaguely Phishy early cut "Ed is a Portal" is the first test for cynics, finding shape in a tribal chant and cyclical guitar figure, but the briefly discernible lyric "shamanistic Shaker spells" nicely summarizes what the band is aiming for.
The album draws largely from late 1960s/early 70s rock, with its most traditionally structured songs owing inspiration to a few of John Lennon's guises. The Mellotron-accompanied "Don't Be Afraid, You're Already Dead" contains the "All You Need Is Love"-style sing-along refrain that gives the record its name, and first single "Phenomena" oscillates somewhere between "Across the Universe" and Plastic Ono Band's "I Found Out". Appropriately, the latter's lyrics are a series of enigmatic, most likely meaningless metaphysical paradoxes, like "Things are not what they seem to be/ Nor are they otherwise."
The 15-minute-plus duo of "Lake Song/New Ceremonial Music for Moms" and "There's So Many Colors" are the album's climax, as well as its creative centerpiece. "Lake Song"'s eerie, minor-key vocal incantations open with a hazy vibe that gives way to a throbbing, incantatory drum-circle frenzy in the mold of the Boredoms' Vision Creation Newsun. The chanted first half of "Colors" is intermission entertainment, gradually swallowed by a shaggy, threadbare verse and torrential guitar outro somewhere between Neil Young & Crazy Horse's Zuma and the fiery denouement of Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Effigy".
Simple's greatest success might be that it holds together as a single work despite the general senselessness of its basic narrative. Don't try to sort it out, just dig it: As the band themselves repeat when trying in song to find a perspectival spot on the horizon: "No point exists."

Download: Akron/Family - LOVE IS SIMPLE
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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POSES - Rufus Wainwright
Rufus Wainwright has quite the life. After he cut his first demo with producer Pierre Marchand, his father, Canadian folk giant Loudon Wainwright III, passed it on to legendary arranger Van Dyke Parks, who in turn saw that it found its way to Dreamworks executive Lenny Waronker. With a simple glance at the Dreamworks logo on the back of Poses, I trust you can connect the dots for yourself. If only it could be that easy for everyone, right?
No, wait. I forgot to mention that Rufus Wainwright deserves it. On his 1998 self-titled debut, Wainwright managed to pull together myriad strands and meld them into a grand, cohesive vision. And now, with Poses, he takes that vision and refines it, resulting in an epic album that speaks with grand gestures and a refined eloquence rare in young songwriters.
Of course, it never hurts to have a killer cast of collaborators to help you achieve your vision, and Wainwright has certainly assembled one for this record. Drummer Jim Keltner (Elvis Costello, Ry Cooder) returns on the traps, trading off spots with Victor Indrizzo (Chris Cornell, Redd Kross). Paul Weller cohort Pete Wilson mans the bass, and Dennis Farias (Burt Bacharach) provides colorful trumpet accents. Propellerhead Alex Gifford, Ethan Johns (Ryan Adams, Robyn Hitchcock), and Damian LeGassick (Blur) combine for production that veers effortlessly from the dark strings of "Evil Angel" to the beat-infused "Tower of Learning," and widely across a lot of terrain in between.
Poses opens and closes with the Tin Pan Alley tribute "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk," recalling some of the Divine Comedy's more playful moments with its ode to subtle addictions and the way our compulsions rule our lives ("If I should buy jellybeans/ I have to eat them all in just one sitting"). In between, we get everything from a Ouija board session with the ghost of Jeff Buckley ("The Consort") to the faithful and endearing cover of Loudon's classic "One Man Guy" that proves Rufus has at least a touch of dad's folk roots in him.
The album's title track stands as one of Wainwright's finest songs, with an aching melody and Spartan piano backing. It also illustrates how far his voice has come since his debut. He's become far more expressive in the last few years and his voice is a bit less of an acquired taste than it used to be. The funky "Shadows" is coated in thickly layered vocal harmonies that betray a definite debt to vocal jazz, although the swelling strings might sound a little more at home on the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack. Still, it's pretty fantastic stuff, and Rufus takes pains to breathe life into his Frankensteins, never letting them degenerate into limp genre exercises.
"Tower of Learning" is more impressive still, opening wide up in the second verse over programmed beats in an arrangement that looms over the rest of the album. Barring the reprise of "Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk," Poses is closed on a somber note with the beautifully simple "In a Graveyard," a soulful reflection on moribund themes that momentarily leaves the oboes and strings at the door for a direct heart-to-heart with the listener.
It's always refreshing to see a recording this singular find its way out the door of a major label, and it's heartening to know that Wainwright probably has a secure home at Dreamworks. With Poses, he proves that he's swinging for the big leagues, and that he has every right to be there.

Download: Rufus Wainwright - POSES
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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CROSS - Justice
Everyone should be wary of using the following two statements, and yet they fit Justice like a pair of $500 jeans: 1) If it's too loud, you're too old, and 2) Age ain't nothin' but a number. Given the hilariously horrified reaction that many in the dance music community have when confronted with the music of French duo Justice, you'd think they were two 300-pound rampaging Huns who sacked Berlin's Panorama Bar and made off with Ricardo Villalobos and Ellen Allien over their shoulders. Instead, Gaspard Augé and Xavier de Rosnay-- high school kids when Daft Punk's Homework dropped over a decade ago-- grew up, like many a young Parisian, filtering hard rock (never a French strong suit) through disco until it sounded more Judas Priest circa 1983 than Stardust circa 1998. Their "new French touch," as the genre's being termed, actually feels like the caress of a sledgehammer.
Throughout †, Justice takes the history of the French rave era and blows it away by embracing 21st-century stadium-rock production. They squeeze everything into a mid-range frequency band so loud that the riffs on tracks like "Let There Be Light" and "Stress" practically bitch-slap you in the face. The drums on "Let There Be Light" and their big breakthrough single "Waters of Nazareth" are the rat-a-tat rhythms of electro scraping like Freddie Krueger's fingertips. That's it-- engorged electronic riffs, dizzying astringent strings, vocal samples torqued to all hell, and nasty metallic drums. It's astoundingly unsubtle stuff and bracing as fuck, a decade's worth of French electronic music stripped down like a Peugeot parked overnight in a bad neighborhood.
Of course, if that's all † was, it would be unbearable for a full hour, and Justice's critics might have half a point. But the album's more varied than most give it credit for. "D.A.N.C.E." is the album's slightly incongruous, Schoolhouse Rock-esque filter-disco track, and Justice's only obvious stab at a capital-P pop crossover hit.
Cheekily disregarding so many things that good dance music is "supposed" to have - especially, you know, bass - they've somehow managed to split dance music into a brother-against-brother battle, turning message boards into minefields and blog posts into mini-manifestos. Not sure this record is for everyone, but it's a journey you won't forget in a hurry.

Download: Justice - CROSS
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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LADY'S BRIDGE - Richard Hawley
Richard Hawley's 2005 album Coles Corner was refreshingly and, in many ways, reassuringly retro. The album exuded romance in every sense, set to a gorgeous backdrop redolent of the classic Sun Records rockabilly sound and classy post-WWII pop. The record was one big beautiful swoon from start to finish. It is also not the sort of disc that's easy to follow up. By default, Hawley was forced to take one of two routes: Either stray from his stylistic path or stick with the tried and true. With Lady's Bridge he chose the latter.
Like the title of its predecessor, Lady's Bridge is a reference to Hawley's hometown, Sheffield. More specifically, the town's oldest bridge, located in the center of the city. The album, too, is right in the middle, an echo of Coles Corner without quite as much of that disc's lonely late-night impact. Hawley has an astute sense of craft, and when the acoustic strum of opener "Valentine" gives way to a lush, fully orchestrated swell, it's hard not to be taken aback by his earnest appropriation of a bygone sound.
Hawley peps things up with "Serious" and opening single "Tonight the Streets Are Ours", but rather disappointingly wimpers to a pause. Perhaps Lady's Bridge could do with a bit more pizzazz, and there's plenty of room to do that, as witnessed in the way Hawley's friend and cohort Jarvis Cocker applies his own croon. Lady's Bridge instead hones so rigidly to Hawley's established template that even such pretty tracks as "The Sea Calls" come across as anti-climactic.
Even as the disc winds down with the setting-sunisms of "Our Darkness" and "The Sun Refused to Shine", Lady's Bridge's mellow conclusion doesn't sound terribly unlike its mellow start or mellow middle. There's been no journey, no emotional progress, and little emotional payoff. For an album and artist so otherwise focused, the effect winds up more soporific than satisfying, however stylish and serene. It's like listening to a faded photo album, albeit one that's well thumbed and loved.
I had such big hopes for this record, and maybe my expectations were too high. It would be remiss to consider this album not worthy of your attention, especially if it leads to further investment in Hawley's other works, Low Edges and Coles Corner.

Download: Richard Hawley - LADY'S BRIDGE
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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CEASE TO BEGIN - Band Of Horses
Following the success of their debut Everything All the Time and the subsequent departure of founding member Mat Brooke, the remaining members of Band of Horses moved from Seattle to Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina, and set to recording their follow-up, Cease to Begin. Thousands of land-locked miles across the Great Salt Lake, this cross-country change of scenery is subtly apparent: If Everything All the Time was a Pacific Northwest indie album with flourishes of country and Southern rock, then Cease to Begin reverses the equation. Even putting a different regional spin on their tender-hearted indie rock, it doesn't change the sound too much - the guitars still churn and crest majestically, Bridwell's vocals still echo with grandiose reverb - it simply creates an atmosphere evocative of something like autumn in a small town.
This geographical move and musical development both seem like logical progressions for Band of Horses, and not just because Bridwell originally hails from the South. The trio sounds more at home on Cease to Begin, and more confident writing about this specific neck of the woods. As a result, they shed many of the comparisons that dogged Everything All the Time last year: Every review had to mention the Shins, My Morning Jacket, or the Flaming Lips (me: guilty). Cease to Begin finds them opening up their sound, drawing in more ideas and giving the music the loping quality of a long walk down a dirt road.
As crunchy guitars give way to light strings on "Ode to LRC", Bridwell sings about a stray dog and a "town so small how could anybody not look you in the eye or wave as I drive by." He's one of few indie artists who can sell a line like "the world is such a wonderful place" or get away with singing "la-dee-da" with open-hearted amazement. On "Detlef Schrempf", for example, he sings, with heartfelt gravity, "Watch how you treat every living soul," and still somehow sounds bold and genuine.
On the other hand, Cease to Begin's looser vibe preempts the big moments that gave Everything All the Time its gravity. These songs go for texture and shade over size and scale, an admirable shift even if Band of Horses don't always pull it off. On "Cigarettes Wedding Band", they can't churn up enough bile to convey Bridwell's bitter lyrics; instead of contrasting the album's sweet-tea tone, the song simply reflects it, revealing the limits of their range. Still, Bridwell does accomplish the nifty trick of turning an accusation into a formidable pop hook: "While they lied-dee-die! Lah-dee-dah! While they lied!"
As they move southeasterly, Band of Horses may bear some derision as dad-rock at best, or as granola at worst. And yes, there are moments here that support those stereotypes: The sequencing of two downtempo ballads ("No One's Gonna Love You", "Detlef Schrempf") slows the album's first half almost to a halt. But even if Cease to Begin is a little creaky and uneven, and even if it never finds the resting spot the album title promises, Band of Horses do guitar-based indie very well. Well enough, at least, that the next generation of American indie bands may bear comparisons to them. The album closes with "Window Blues", a slow, aching number that fades into a simple "Rainbow Connection" banjo outro that gives the album a snowglobe quality, despite the warmer Carolina climate. These songs depict a personal world in great detail, contained within a small space. Sure, Band of Horses could stand to shake it up a bit, but for now Bridwell seems content just to enjoy the view.

Download: Band Of Horses - CEASE TO BEGIN
(available for 7 days from date of post)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------LUST LUST LUST - Raveonettes
"I fell out of Heaven to be with you in Hell" is an example of the dark, rather sinister lyrics that The Raveonettes provide on their third album Lust Lust Lust. When sung by the beautiful and soft vocals from Sune Rose Wagner and Sharen Foo, a fierce and effective juxtaposition leers from below the murky waters where the music lies.
The Raveonettes' effortless musical style reminds of Metric in their approach to music but not in a way that it appears copied or unoriginal; instead it is a signature style that is to be loved or to be hated with each song covered in a film of white noise.
The juxtaposing aspect of the music production extends into the songs on the album. Whilst opening track 'Aly, Walk with Me' is mellow and dark and foreboding enough to be a nineties Garbage production, Wagner and Foo manage to use this same formula to conjure love songs that have an upbeat approach that have a perhaps surprising toe-tapping quality. 'You Want the Candy' is something perhaps a darker version of The Pipettes would have written if they had spent their school years disliking their parents and purchasing Emily the Strange merchandise. Likewise, 'The Beat Dies' reveals "I'm in love" to provide a softness to the already varied album.
Each song is barely over three minutes and whilst certain songs such as 'Lust Lust Lust', the band’s first release from the album, leave you feeling that you could have continued listening, others, such as the murky and unsatisfied 'Expelled from Love' find you relieved that the CD has moved on.
Yet, it is an album who's schizophrenic nature makes it almost beautiful. Maybe it is the soft Emily Haines-esque vocals of the band or the blurred and confused sound that acts as a paradox to this, but the combination creates an almost three-dimensional sounding album that it is impossible not to submerge yourself within.

Download: Raveonettes - LUST LUST LUST
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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RISE ABOVE - Dirty Projectors
Dave Longstreth, like a lot of visionaries, is so full of bright ideas he can barely keep his shit together. Part of the problem is that he's indiscriminate about what he devours: Gustav Mahler, reggaetón, Malian guitar music, Cole Porter, band members. He's helmed a different roster of musicians for each Dirty Projectors album, and each one has had its own agenda. "Jolly Jolly Jolly Ego", from 2005's The Getty Address, plays like a parade of his fetishes: dissonant folk, looped bassoons, a rhythm track sounding like it was lifted from an R. Kelly record, and Longstreth in the middle, throttling his poor falsetto with vibrations violent enough to knock a drinking glass off a table.
After five or so years of cherrypicking from large groups of musicians, he's streamlined to a rock quartet, and they actually seem to matter to him in ways he can't shake: touring guitarist Amber Coffman and drummer Brian McOmber play on Rise Above; bassist and vocalist Angel Deradoorian hadn't joined yet, but has since been filling the parts played here by Nat Baldwin and Susanna Waiche. Hearing the band rip through material from last year's New Attitude EP on a recent Daytrotter session was like watching the glass slipper slide on.
While Longstreth's initial albums were mostly string-backed folk, he's now given himself up to rhythm - in his words, his compositions have become more "horizontal" than "vertical." The horizontal's great for dancing - an opportunity that arises a few times here - but verticality is still the source of the songs' tensions. Coffman and Waiche's coos stack harmonies with Longstreth's bleat like little car wrecks, and even though the guitars move like a West African dance band, the songs seem propelled by the constant resolutions of notes rather than the beats themselves.
Then again, it's the combo - a synthesis of heavy rhythms with an addiction to delicacy and ornament - that makes Longstreth an innovative, paradoxical writer. "Spray Paint (The Walls)" is half-Soundgarden, half-Outkast. Some of this record sounds like Phish and some of it sounds like the Police. There's a verse in Esperanto. When Longstreth strides into the singer-songwriter spotlight, he's so determined to express himself he forgets the idea is to share, instead employing melisma that's so brutal it's almost embarrassing. And he sounds like he's having fun! And that's scary. Rise Above is serious, somewhat inhuman stuff, which is possibly why the band never smiles onstage: Longstreth, wide-eyed and focused, hair like wild grass; Deradoorian and Coffman looking eerily cornfed, as blank as backup singers in Mullholland Drive, their hands responsible for a completely different set of rhythms than their voices; McOmber a pair of arms occasionally rising above the wall.
Rise Above will drop plenty of jaws, and, like Deerhoof, Dirty Projectors are restructuring rock on a compositional level rather than a sonic one. To murder a cliché, whatever unfurls from Longstreth's brain next isn't anyone's guess. Rise Above, for all its fastidiousness and minor drawbacks, finally displays the perfect counterargument to the portrait of him as another nutso college dropout: it displays a pattern.

Download: Dirty Projectors - RISE ABOVE
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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VOLUME 1 - Besnard Lakes
To gauge what kind of a year the Besnard Lakes have had, you need only consider that the Montreal band was virtually unknown when they released their latest album, The Besnard Lakes Are the Dark Horse, nine months ago, and now they've already earned their first reissue. Originally released on the band's own Break Glass imprint in 2003, Volume 1 was a patient, languid counterpoint to the frantic, anthemic pop that would soon make Montreal famous, and as such, the album did not reverberate far beyond the band's immediate circle. While their peers in Arcade Fire, Wolf Parade and the Unicorns were reshaping the city's musical landscape, the Besnards sounded more in tune with another time-honored Quebecois passion: Floydian prog-rock. As their friends embarked on North American tours, Besnards co-founders Jace Lacek and Olga Goreas had to content themselves with playing the roles of supportive parents seeing their kids off to college and holding down the fort back home (specifically, at Lacek's increasingly busy Break Glass studios).
The critical success of Dark Horse, however, has changed their stature considerably, scoring the band a Polaris Prize nomination in Canada, and an upcoming tour with Peter Bjorn and John. In light of that album's time-lapsed grandeur and swooning choruses, the title of Volume 1 now feels especially appropriate - not just because it's the band's first album, but because it underscores the album's formative, work-in-progress feel.
Volume 1 is also notable for showing the paths that the Besnards have since chosen not to follow, namely with the urgent, agitated Breeders-style distorto-pop of "Thomasina," driven by Goreas' "Cannonball"-sized bass groove. But if Volume 1 sounds very much like a debut effort, both in its streamlined mid-fi production and exploratory, sometimes directionless drift, its closing track spells out the Besnards' future: "Life Rarely Begins With the Tungsten Film #1" may be a mouthful, but its space-bound guitar charge and dreamily ascending melody show the way to the Besnards' second volume.

Download: Besnard Lakes - VOLUME 1
(available for 7 days from date of post)

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Music Bonanza (PART 6)

MUSIC BONANZA - PART SIX
Shout Out Louds - The Holloways - The Thrills - Brett Anderson
- Mooney Suzuki - The Magic Numbers - Hot Hot Heat - Athlete

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OUR ILL WILLS - Shout Out Louds
Lead singer Adam Olenius' Robert Smith-like anguished vocals mean the Cure's most streamlined pop album, 1985's The Head on the Door, is still as apt a reference point as it was for Shout Out Louds' prior album Howl Howl Gaff Gaff, although sharper hooks and emotionally richer songwriting ensure Our Ill Wills improves upon its predecessor.
Bjorn Yttling's (Peter Bjorn and John) cinematic production wouldn't be enough without a set of strong tunes. Our Ill Wills shakes with the pain of loves lost and unrequited. For all the bright synth-strings and acoustic guitar of excellent first single "Tonight I Have to Leave It", what matters most is the feeling Olenius is leaving behind: "I just want to be bothered with real love," he sighs. The album's second single, seven-minute "Impossible", finds Olenius wanting what he can't have, and not wanting nearly everything else. No amount of cheery woodblock percussion can mitigate that gnawing paradox. It's surely with some bitter irony that he imagines the now-unattainable object of his affection finding true love of her own: "I know it could happen to you," he concludes.
Olenius' sobbing vocals might grate if he spent the entire album whining about girls, so it's satisfying when the album explores other themes: a tragic accident on "Time Left for Love", tricks of memory on "Your Parents Livingroom", or calls to the police and vague worries about "when she will get her child" on "You Are Dreaming", with its indelible "don't come back to Stockholm" chorus. On "Normandie", Olenius can't escape his old flame's memory. Over tropical acoustic guitars on "South America", he gets stupidly jealous at the sudden thought she might fall for someone else "in the bright nightclub light"; it's an embarrassingly realistic male moment. Multi-instrumentalist Bebban Stenborg takes the lead for a female perspective on despair-drenched "Blue Headlights", her breathy vocals not undeserving of the inevitable comparisons to The Concrete's Bergsman.
If the songs can't all hold up to those of inspirations like the Cure, well, few can. "I haven't said too much, have I?/ There are things you should keep to yourself," Olenius frets, on a guitar-pop album full of what can sound like another person's aching secrets: a fellow traveler's pursuit of what might almost seem impossible, until it happens to you. On the strength of Our Ill Wills, Sweden looks poised to win a few more hearts, minds, and sensitive souls.

Download: Shout Out Louds - OUR ILL WILLS
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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SO THIS IS GREAT BRITAIN? - The Holloways
So this is Great Britain, is it? ASBOs, Burberry headgear, empty wallets, cheesy chat-up lines in crappy night clubs, smack-addled prostitutes in Kings Cross station and drunken middle-aged men on park benches. According to The Holloways it is, and while they may not be far from the truth, Britain isn't twinned with Hades just yet.
The Holloways borrow a lot of their musical allegiances from The Clash, although in a purely second-handed manner as they are quite clearly a bi-product of The Libertines. What makes them slightly more distinctive is the vocal harmonising between Alfie Jackson and Rob Skipper, which depending on which part of the fence you sit could either bring back visions of late 70s terrace hooligans or the stilton-tinged cock-er-nee knees-ups of Chas And Dave.
What's surprising, though, is that a good half of So This Is Great Britain? is actually quite pleasant, in a jaunty, getting-ready-for-a-big-night-out sort of way. 'Two Left Feet' and 'Generator' are without doubt two of the most exciting singles - it's no surprise that these two songs stand head and shoulders above the rest of the record. Closing track 'Fuck Ups', with its story about a 40-something who lost it all and ended up a wino, actually has one or two lyrical couplets that would see the most sour-faced and fun-hating miserablist struggle not to raise a chuckle at, while 'Happiness And Penniless' and 'Most Lonely Face' also exhibit the band's competence at completely different ends of the musical spectrum, from two-minute power pop to five-minute ballads.
Although this is a fresh-faced debut record, there is a certain clumsiness in a lot of the wordplay and some would say rather too much filler. It loses a bit in the middle few tracks, but overall, well worth a listen.

Download: The Holloways - SO THIS IS GREAT BRITAIN?
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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TEENAGER - The Thrills
Like barmen at your favourite Ibiza cocktail dive, The Thrills are back; familiar, comforting and with a couple of years' worth of new stories to tell. Conor's lovelorn croak is as adorable as ever, Daniel Ryan's guitars twangle dreamily, Kevin Horan's keyboards have finally been proved by DNA testing to be descended from the piano that Brian Wilson wrote 'California Girls' on, and there's still a banjo player hunkered around a bonfire in some distant corner of the studio. No alarms, no surprises - 'Teenager' is simply more wonderful, bittersweet laze-pop of a hue at which The Thrills have become grand masters. 'The Midnight Choir' adds backwards guitars and a classical harpsichord tint that's almost Meat Loafian, the barrelling pop aceness of 'This Year' seems to have hijacked Bob Dylan's touring harmonica truck and 'I'm So Sorry' couldn't be more 'Born To Run' if it got itself a motorbike and a job in a New Jersey steelworks.
Where The Thrills have moved on is lyrically. Debut album 'So Much For The City' was a musical Rough Guide to the coastal resorts of southern California and 'Let's Bottle Bohemia' was a stained sepia image of a forgotten urban Dublin; 'Teenager', as the title suggests, finds Conor lost in the reveries of his youth. It starts celebratory - jaunty pop janglers 'I Came All This Way' and single 'Nothing Changes Round Here' are full of "backseat fumblings" and lurid first-time confessions. But by the end of the record Conor's in far more mournful a mood, repeatedly sighing "I envy your youth" through the maudlin 'Should've Known Better' and yearning for lost teenage kicks in the torch song title track - "You remember being beautiful?/Regrets, regrets, regrets!". It smacks of glories faded and high times sorrowfully remembered, yet its mother album tells a different story, of a band striding confidently into countryfied maturity at the peak of their powers. And you know what? A little faith, a bit of luck and maybe a Keane support tour and this really could be The Thrills' year.

Download: The Thrills - TEENAGER
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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BRETT ANDERSON - Brett Anderson
Just as Cosmo tells women everywhere that it is natural for men to experience a drastic decline in their sex drive as a consequence of aging, this is basically also what Brett Anderson tells me with the release of his first solo record. Granted, in the pantheon of Britpop-era sex gods (there's a scary visual), the Suede frontman seemed the most impotent of the bunch; witness his now-famous quip about being a bisexual who'd never had a homosexual experience. Nonetheless, there was a time where Anderson's sexuality was his main currency, and it was powerful enough-- even in its messiness-- to provide the charge for two, maybe even three, great albums.
Issued on the heels of Anderson and former Suede guitarist Bernard Butler's underwhelming reunion album as the Tears, this eponymous record marks the singer's first solo release, and demonstrates handily why its taken him this long to do something on his own.
Aside from a lot of filler and a few genuinely horrendous/hilarious missteps ("The More We Possess the Less We Own Ourselves" makes Anne Geddes look like a master of nuance), a few things here are worth sampling. Despite a characteristically silly lyric, "The Infinite Kiss" does a reasonable job recalling the epic, lovelorn thing that used to be Suede's stock in trade; "One Lazy Morning" is a sweet enough Sunday-morning ballad; and opening track and lead single "Love Is Dead" constitutes a nice little comeback moment. "Nothing ever flows in my life," sighs Anderson. It's clear he should stick to writing songs with Butler, but on his own he's not half bad.

Download: Brett Anderson - BRETT ANDERSON
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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HAVE MERCY - Mooney Suzuki
After a recent stretch that has included lineup changes, an ill-fated stab at major-label success and the folding of their most recent label, the Mooney Suzuki could have been forgiven for throwing up their hands and crying "Uncle!"
Instead, the New York garage-rockers emerge, bloodied but unbowed, with "Have Mercy." The Mooney's last album, 2004's "Alive & Amplified," was a too-slick affair (courtesy of Avril Lavigne's old production team The Matrix) that garnered little more than derision. "Have Mercy," by contrast, is an honest, humble, rootsy record that shows the band maturing. Opener "99%" sounds like the Black Crowes gone garage and much of the album ("Ashes," "This Broke Heart Of Mine") hews to that simpler sound. New sonic flourishes for the band, such as flute on "Adam and Eve," sound lived-in, not show-offy. Meanwhile, on the glockenspiel-aided "Rock 'n' Roller Girl," singer Sammy James Jr. notes, "We may be growing older" - an admission that would never have appeared on an earlier Mooney Suzuki album.
They're not totally grown up and serious, though: James spends six minutes celebrating booze on the twangy "Good Ol' Alcohol," possibly the best song the Supersuckers never wrote. For one of the best bands in the neo-garage scene, "Have Mercy" is a welcome return to form.

Download: Mooney Suzuki - HAVE MERCY
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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THOSE THE BROKES - Magic Numbers
In Those The Brokes, you'll hear several solid-to-excellent songs that extend the rootsy trajectory of the Magic Numbers' fine first outing, making up in winsome intensity what they lack as far as edginess or sex appeal.
First UK single "Take a Chance" encourages us to risk our pride for love. The burnished harmonies of the group's two sibling pairs-- Trinidad natives Romeo and Michele Stodart along with London-born duo Angela and Sean Gannon-- make it easy to overlook any risks the cheery power-pop arrangement declines to take itself. Despite the apparent obviousness of the title, "This Is A Song" is a song against itself-- as broken-hearted as it is upbeat and catchy. ("Don't wanna hear it," comes a backing vocal.) The questioning "Let Somebody In" and comparatively muscular "You Never Had It" each glide by on the kind of inchoate magic that in more credulous days used to be called "soul".
Notwithstanding the good tunes, this release remains a modest record. There are too many fillers amongst the pearls. "Keep It in the Pocket", started life as a 2005 B-side; its breezy enthusiasm exhibits confidence if not transcendence, but it hails from a previous life. On 'Those the Brokes', the Magic Numbers have yet to shape their middlebrow yearning into a masterpiece on par with those of influences the Mamas and the Papas or the Band. Let's hope Astralwerks keeps letting them try.

Download: Magic Numbers - THOSE THE BROKES
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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HAPPINESS LTD - Hot Hot Heat
In 2002, Hot Hot Hot Heat's 'Make Up The Breakdown' bounded into the world's lap like a giddy terrier, but 2005's 'Elevator' stalled. On their fifth album, partly produced by Green Day and MCR Midas-toucher Rob Cavallo, the message is clear: pop is back. Big hooks and cresting balladry are shamelessly in-season ('Outta Heart') and call-and-response choruses are bigger than ever ('Give Up?'). The trademark tempo jiggery remains and it's all threaded together with airy production that underlines rather than overwhelms. And while there's nothing here as incendiary as 'Bandages', there remains a sense of flow that previous albums have lacked. Hot Hot Heat are not the freewheeling scamps they once were. Thankfully, rather than mature into 'serious' musicians, they've rejuvenated themselves with the elixir of a purer pop.

Download: Hot Hot Heat - HAPPINESS LTD
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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BEYOND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD - Athlete
Let's be fair, ‘Beyond The Neighbourhood’ is not an instant classic; it’s far from perfect. Starting off with a tone-setting but somewhat ill-advised piece of ambient acoustic electronica, the record soon segues into lead single ‘Hurricane’, an uptempo improvement on the formula of previous LP ‘Tourist’, which leans more toward Bloc Party than Embrace. ‘Tokyo’ is where Athlete go angular – got to sell this record to the Franz Ferdinand fans too, after all.
‘Airport Disco’ resorts to drippy lyrics about a "beautiful world" and is closer in tone to their previous record, albeit with the ambient electronic sheen the rest of this album has been given. ‘The Outsiders’ is the only real turkey here, but it does provide the only laugh of the set; anyone who thinks Athlete have are in any way outsiders has been listening to far too much XFM. The songwriting is solid throughout, and is nowhere near as cloying as some of the more sentimental moments on ‘Tourist’ – generally, ‘Beyond The Neighbourhood’ shows a lot of promise. However it’s hard to shake the feeling that this band are a bit too opportunistic, and a little too willing to mimic the zeitgeist. I saw them live at South by Southwest in Austin, TX. None of their gear had arrived, so they begged and borrowed from many of the other bands and even the BBC production unit. And despite the unfamiliarity of the instruments, they were on fine form. Watching them with me were Snow Patrol, Doves and Tom McRae - not a bad pedigree of fans. I'm not sure they've yet managed to capture on disc, the raw energy that their live shows have. If they can discover their own voices for album number four, and still keep the quality of the tunes high, then they could produce something really special.

Download: Athlete - BEYOND THE NEIGHBOURHOOD
(available for 7 days from date of post)

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Music Bonanza (PART 5)

MUSIC BONANZA - PART FIVE
Hard-Fi - Blonde Redhead - The Coral - Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
- Voxtrot - New Pornographers - Rilo Kiley - Grand National - The Bravery

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ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST - Hard-Fi
When they first appeared on our radar in late 2004, the talk was of a 21st-century Clash, who had something significant to say about Modern Day Britain, whatever that entails. Nearly three years on, and Hard-Fi are no longer Staines' second-most famous export.
This is something Richard Archer and co attempt to address before 'Once Upon A Time In The West' even begins - but the less said about the abysmal, try-hard attempt at subversive 'rule-breaking' that constitutes the album's cover, the better.
The album opens with lead single 'Suburban Knights' (which, incidentally, has an even worse cover) and with the unwavering certainty of a morning commuter train, normal service is resumed. Based around a terrace chant that'll be soundtracking goal of the month montages on Match of The Day very soon.
'Tonight', a sort of sombre reimagining of Springsteen's 'Thunder Road' for satellite-dwellers, with ghostly strings and another of those chant choruses, lends creedence to Archer's vague tale of two lovers "getting out of" what we can only assume is a lower middle-class housing estate and heading for the bright lights of the city, or something.
Some critics have lazilly suggested that 'Once Upon A Time...' is about as lyrically savvy as a Hollyoaks script, with the only real exception being the genuinely affecting 'Help Me Please', a simple and haunting piano ballad about the death of Archer's mum, with scant pretensions to suburban discontent. They have a point.
Once you accept the fact that most of the lyrics are paper-thin, however, there's much fun to be had. 'Television' is pure brass-balled '80s pop with a chorus that must kick itself for missing the festival season by a measly month, and that will win even the most sour-faced of doubters over. But it's 'Can't Get Along' that hints at genuine - and much welcome - progression. Accompanied by bombastic garlands of symphonic Motown brass and the cocksure swagger that marked 'Stars Of CCTV''s best moments, it has a few characteristic lyrical faux pas - "I picked fights with men twice my size/I picked fights, they punched out my lights" indeed - but coasts by on force of melody alone. The same applies for 'We Need Love', a slinky, Specials-indebted call to arms of the nation's city centres, that again tantalisingly suggests at what 'Once Upon A Time...' wants to be when it grows up.

Download: Hard-Fi - ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE WEST
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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23 - Blonde Redhead
23 finds Blonde Redhead at their beauteous best, on the sort of form that saw the trio produce one of the finest LPs to date, 2004’s Misery Is A Butterfly. It’s a record that sinks in deep, from the very offset; an album that enriches the heart and mind and leaves the first-timer flabbergasted at just how fantastically otherworldly a single album can sound. Those wanting absolute succinctness at the earliest possible juncture, this is what you need to know: 23 is the next LP you have to buy.
Mysterious and magical, the New York-based trio have always been a complex puzzle of a band – experimental to a degree yet able to harness the rawest, purest pop hooks, the brothers Pace and vocalist Kazu Makino craft compositions that defy conventional classification. Indie-rock is one catchall that could be applied, but it’s ill-fitting given the three-piece’s penchant for exploring alternative routes to a song’s climax. Often what begins elementary takes a turn for the advanced, for the contradictory; here, ‘SW’ begins its journey under a heavy curtain of chimes and shimmers, trebly percussion and chant-like vocals, but by the midpoint of its allotted four-and-a-half it’s shifted gears courtesy of some superbly unexpected, wonderfully embellishing trumpeteering. It’s just one of 23’s many highlights – a song that strays from the norm enough to sate those with an appetite for the unusual, but does so in a way so affecting that even absolute beginners will be thoroughly intoxicated.
The opening title track, too, tosses an early curve: its introduction is pure eighties alternative rock, all drifting drones and blooded bombast – a comparison to the always referenced My Bloody Valentine would not be misplaced. Yet the song’s not designed for those with their eyes firmly on their laces; it’s a celebratory gambit, a gorgeous slice of alien soundscaping that’s somehow of this earth but utterly inhuman of design. It’s too perfect to be the product of fallible men, and that feeling, that Blonde Redhead have found a previously shrouded secret formula for songwriting, runs the length and breadth of 23.
It seems strange that a band so full of sound would lift their moniker from a no-wave group from a couple of decades ago, but in Blonde Redhead’s case the contradictory has always made a perverse sense. 23 offers no answers as to how Blonde Redhead should be appreciated, generically; all it does is remind the listener that few bands today are quite so perfect at their chosen art form.
If you missed it earlier, this is the next record you have to buy. Absolutely. Unequivocally. It’s better than Misery Is A Butterfly. Seriously. Do it.

Download: Blonde Redhead - 23
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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ROOTS & ECHOES - The Coral
Yes, it's a knowing title, acknowledging the Coral's propensity for digging deep into the past and assimilating the findings into their own music. The calendar on the wall on Roots and Echoes stands at 1967, the dial on the radio set between breezy West Coast pop and glowering psych-rock - imagine Jan and Dean perched on one shoulder as Charles Manson hovers on the other. The push and pull between light and dark has always defined the group, but Roots and Echoes is a brighter, considerably more settled record than previous outings, less inclined to meander skittishly into dub, mariachi and sea shanties. It sounds like the work of a band harnessing their strengths, intent on packing a heavyweight punch after losing focus on 2005's misfiring The Invisible Invasion
With 'Roots & Echoes' The Coral reaffirm that they're one of the few white-boy guitar bands who can rock and roll, doing unfailingly interesting things with rhythm while at the same time being unafraid of A Good Tune. 'Put the Sun Back' is a glorious song of lost innocence - filled with parks, cinder paths, alleyways and 'schoolyard eyes', its emotional, geographical and musical terrain evokes Van Morrison circa the late Sixties. It's also one of those rare songs that touchingly confronts the inadequacy of language in the face of love ('I can't explain/ You know what I mean') rather than attempting to sidestep the issue via fancy verbal footwork. 'Who's Gonna Find Me', meanwhile, is the Doors-meets-the Isley Brothers' 'Summer Breeze': the kind of opener that compels you to skip back and drink it in one more time before moving on.
The darkness remains, but a happy balance is struck. On 'In the Rain' James Skelly defines himself as 'a stranger in this life/ Haunted by yesterday's desires'. Before you get snagged contemplating just what a heavy lyric that is for a 26-year-old, 'Cobwebs' takes the record on an engaging, light-hearted detour into shuffling tuxedo country, a Merseybeat take on 'Gentle on My Mind'.
The fear after The Invisible Invasion was that the Coral might end up like Gomez: another group of young, talented, retro-inclined over-achievers who rather faded in the face of their own over-experimental tendencies. Fear not. The stirring Roots and Echoes sets the Coral firmly back on course.

Download: The Coral - ROOTS & ECHOES
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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SOME LOUD THUNDER - Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
Two things stood against Clap Your Hands Say Yeah when they first emerged at the tail end of 2005. One was the ridiculous amount of hype that accompanied the band. The other was singer Alec Ounsworth's voice - a reedy, startled yelp that often resembled the unhinged warblings of a PCP-raddled drunk - and that, on first listen, made you curse evolution for providing you with ears. Little over a year later they're back with album number two, minus the initial hype, but with a frontman still resolute in his abstinence of what, in musical parlance, is known as 'being in tune'. But then again, Ian Brown had the very same affliction.
Listening to the opening track and you might think Clap Your Hands’ second album will be a retread of the first. But once the rag-tag Beach Boy-ish ambition of 'Emily Jean Stock' and the arpeggiated intricacies of 'Goodbye To The Mother And The Cov'e have worked their magic, it’s apparent that they’re a lot more ambitious than that. At their best, on 'Yankee Go Home' and 'Five Easy Pieces', their sound becomes less indie rock than ecstatic chanting. Oddly reassuring amid all this change is that singer Alec Ounsworth still sounds like David Byrne falling into icy water.

Download: Clap Your Hands Say Yeah - SOME LOUD THUNDER
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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VOXTROT - Voxtrot
For the last few years fans of Austin, TX indie band Voxtrot, have been bracing for disappointment. On a series of mini-CDs and vinyl singles the band revealed a knack for fervent little masterpieces, as well as a debt to a string of British forebears (comparisons to Belle & Sebastian, Housemartins or Wedding Present are the most often). Each release raised the stakes, all but ensuring that Voxtrot’s debut album would be a letdown.
Maybe it all paid off because Voxtrot’s self-titled debut album is marvelous: a collection of 11 tightly coiled songs, loud and fast and sweet. Mr. Srivastava is an unapologetic overwriter, cramming stanzas full of details and songs full of stanzas. In “Ghost,” he dashes through 12 quatrains, ricocheting from a plainspoken confession (“I don’t ever want to be alone like this”) to a cryptic vow (“I have no choice but to be vicious on my feet/I never sleep, I never eat”).
The band sounds pretty vicious, too, in a wimpy sort of way. It’s bigger and louder than before; agitated strumming still pushes the songs forward, but now strings and horns add bursts of harmony and noise. And Mr. Srivastava never stops wriggling, as if that were the only way to keep pressure and expectation at bay. In “Firecracker,” even the catchy chorus becomes a contortion: “Oh, did you turn your back on me?/Or did. I. Turn. My. Self./Oh, against myself, oh?” One fears — well, hopes — that Mr. Srivastava is already tying himself in knots, trying to figure out how on earth his band will top this.

Download: Voxtrot - VOXTROT
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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CHALLENGERS - The New Pornographers
If previous New Pornographers albums are the musical equivalent of Corporate Cola, then Challengers is the caffeine-free diet version: less sugary, more mature, initially not as invigorating, but ultimately just as addictive. It's the inevitable response to 2005's Twin Cinema, a benchmark that culminated the Canadian power-poppers' hyperactive "three hooks for every song" phase. In contrast, Challengers' songs are given room to stretch out and breathe, to reveal their gooey centers at a (relatively) leisurely pace, rather than jumping frantically out of the speakers. Challengers might not grab listeners right away—it's definitely a grower—but a little patience will help reveal the most consistent Pornos album yet.
The title track gets one of Newman's prettiest melodies, making it a natural showcase for Neko Case's subdued, vulnerable vocal. But Newman saves the saddest song—"Unguided"—for himself, letting it slowly swell into his best sing-along since "The Bleeding Heart Show." Dan Bejar of Destroyer is still playing the role of eccentric jester, and his three contributions—"Myriad Harbour," "Entering White Cecilia," and "The Spirit Of Giving"—drip with perverse charm, as always. But The New Pornographers is unmistakably a vehicle for Newman's songwriting, which is pure pop genius even with half the sweetness.

Download: The New Pornographers - CHALLENGERS
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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UNDER THE BLACKLIGHT - Rilo Kiley
It’s an intraband breakup album, a public reading of private diaries in the tradition of Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours. It’s also a perils-of-L.A. postcard. In addition, it’s a cocky bid for mass popularity from a band that passed quickly through four different indie labels. That’s a whole lot of heritage and ambition to pack into 37 minutes.
Miraculously, the different aspects of Under the Blacklight only compliment one another. Creamy and precise, every coo and arpeggio blows through your ear buds like the ruffle of crisp bills; Mike Elizondo, the West Coast rap producer who bolsters the band’s guitar pop with big, confident beats, is like a location scout, moving the tawdry action from a Bel Air mansion to a Los Feliz bungalow. The warm smell of colitas rises up through the digital air.
And, crucially, the perspective is female: Jenny Lewis has wrenched control of the group from guitarist and ex-boyfriend Blake Sennett. “I never felt so wicked/As when I willed our love to die,” she sings in a celebration of singleness that verges on a taunt. With a soft, poised voice that favors bittersweet notes, she explores female power in different guises—a girl who’s shaking her “moneymaker” to a ’70s funk beat; a tank-top temptress frolicking, braless, in a club; a precocious teen with a “developing body” who is “down for almost anything.”
What she finds, of course, is danger. To Lewis, women are born into trouble—and escape by flirting, feigning submission or going home with men they don’t know. The songs are full of sex (as well as the lure of money, like any great L.A. album). But the only real delight comes from hurting someone: The bursting “Breakin’ Up” (cowritten by Lewis and Sennett) makes revenge feel like a great new dance.
Incessantly catchy and well-made, the CD swaps indie quirks for familiarity: The sexy “Smoke Detector” builds off a generic British Invasion guitar, and “The Moneymaker” snatches a melody from the Cars’ “Moving in Stereo.” This isn’t an art-house film; it’s a suspenseful popcorn flick: Lewis never says what happens to that restless 15-year-old, but you can tell it won’t end well.

Download: Rilo Kiley - UNDER THE BLACKLIGHT
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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A DRINK & A QUICK DECISION - Grand National
Being a straight-up pop band like Grand National is a tricky business these days. With all the subgenre and the sub-subgenre tags, all the hype and counterhype and anti-counterhype flying around like so much confetti, well, it's getting awfully tough to actually celebrate. 2004's Kicking the National Habit gave us a great start, with almost supernaturally catchy tunes and cozy beats that worked on speakers as well as dancefloors. And A Drink And A Quick Decision is a pill every bit as sweet as its predecessor, mining similar terrain to achieve equally sexy results.
If anything characterizes the group, it's a willingness to craft lean, elegant songs that absorb their influences, rather than flaunt them. So what would those influences be? There's a definite connection with the buoyant melodic line of British rock-grounded pop bands: the Beatles, the Kinks, Blur. There's a frosty coating of mid-period new wave slickness and production values, and a foundation of tasteful dance-grounded beats (think Stone Roses, Happy Mondays, New Order). Those mistaking obnoxiousness or tunelessness for stylistic innovation will be quick to describe Grand National as "derivative," but they're merely the odd batch of traditionalists in the ideological war zone that is independent rock, where sounding like an old Coil b-side is somehow more progressive than writing a solid pop tune. If nothing here offends, well, maybe we should ask ourselves exactly when and how offending became such a virtue.
What really sets Grand National apart and allows them to navigate these tender zones with impunity, however, is their ability to pull all kinds of textural rabbits out of stylistic hats without ever sounding like they're genre-hopping. The choppy acoustic guitar and electrical static backdrop of "Tongue," the house kickdrum and lightly-flanged Cure-esque lead of "Close Approximation," the pastoral dreaminess of "Weird Ideas at Work," the wicked ska-not-ska of "Going to Switch the Light On," all these somehow make for perfect settings for the songwriting team of Rudd and partner Rupert Lyddon. And when their collaboration exceeds the merely excellent, it produces truly sublime fruit—first single "By the Time I Get Home...," the moody-yet-epic "Animal Sounds," and "Joker and Clown," which unashamedly stakes a claim on being one of 2007's best ballads, with a stark acoustic guitar strummed against a smart pair of rhythmic backdrops. Within that alternation lies the simple secret to Grand National's limber popcraft: it's nothing more than another update on the classic one-two of euphoria and melancholy. When was that ever a bad thing?

Download: Grand National - A DRINK & A QUICK DECISION
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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THE SUN AND THE MOON - The Bravery
Clever lads, the Bravery. To represent the title "The Sun and the Moon," they made half the album jacket one colour (gold for the sun) and the other half another (blue for the moon). Fortunately, the music isn’t as fractured. In fact, it’s another major step forward for the New York-based band. The boys keep the best of their ’80s-style, new wave rock sound but add more classic guitar rock touches under famed producer Brendan O’Brien. Singer Sam Endicott still sounds like a cross between Ray Davies of the Kinks and an earnest Morrissey. Many of the songs carry an increased seriousness but they're framed by irresistible melodies that turn Endicott’s soulsearching into compelling dance rock. The Bravery is still throwing a party, but it’s a thinking-man's party. This easily ranks among the top rock records of the year.
The Bravery released their 2005 neo-new-wave debut in the wake of a virtual dance-rock armada (see: the Killers, the Rapture), grafting beats onto steroidal guitar riffs. Labeled copycats, they quickly became persona non grata among the hipsterati. But The Sun and the Moon shows them weeding out the pogo-stick synth loops, favoring mid-'90s Britpop and early-'00s Strokes. The propulsive energy (and navel-gazing) is still there, channeled into stadium-size anthems and heartrending ballads. Too sappy for the cool kids, sure, but still a fine pop record.

Download: The Bravery - THE SUN AND THE MOON
(available for 7 days from date of post)

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Music Bonanza (PART 4)

MUSIC BONANZA - PART FOUR
Good Shoes - Buffalo Tom - Field Music - Bjork
- The Pigeon Detectives - Modest Mouse - Peter Bjorn And John

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THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK - Good Shoes
South London's Good Shoes venture into the crowded market of post-punk with a more streamlined take on new wave herky-jerky - like an earnest young Buzzcocks to their rivals' the Clash, the Jam, or XTC.
Good Shoes sweeten their spiky guitars, the attack/release choruses, and hiccupping vocals with some straightforward songwriting about boys in bands (and the girls who love them). If the Arctic Monkeys' success established a new template for UK teen idoldom (realistic diaries of underage drinking and nervous romantic conquests), then Good Shoes paint between the same lines with broader brushstrokes. Extra polish on the debut Think Before You Speak helps this group of barely twentysomethings realise the promise shown in about two years' worth of 7"s, EPs, and demos.
Still fundamentally a singles band, Good Shoes give us plenty of potential iPod-commercial fodder here. Several album tracks sound like potential singles, too. Likely live favorite "Sophia" ("all the pretty girls are screaming, 'Take off your pants!'") again evokes the Arctics with its mention of our underage narrator being tossed from a bar, while "Everybody's Talking" enthusiastically tries out the Futureheads' call-and-response guitar intricacies. "Does it really matter?" Jones calls at the track's glowing conclusion. As welcome as new sounds would be, Good Shoes at least clean up the old ones for potentially new ears.

Download: Good Shoes - THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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THREE EASY PIECES – Buffalo Tom
Of all the what-might've-beens of the grunge era, Buffalo Tom may be the most fondly remembered, because little about the band was divisive. They wrote solid rock 'n' roll songs, performed with vigor and, especially toward the second half of its decade-long run, possessed accessibility. The band's biggest problem was that it hit its commercial stride after recording its best album, Let Me Come Over. Buffalo Tom never had material quite that strong again. Until now.
Three Easy Pieces is a stone-faced ringer for Buffalo Tom’s heyday, but it’s by no means a retread of the past. The dizzying punch of the band’s younger years still exists in uptempo songs like “Bottom of the Rain”, “September Shirt”, and the charging title track; however, the group’s existential weight has grown with time, evidenced by the aching “Bad Phone Call”, the forlorn “Lost Downtown”, and near-epic “Hearts of Palm”. Buffalo Tom has always had a flair for injecting emotional heft into unsuspecting pop form, but here, on songs like “Thrown”, “Pendleton”, and “CC and Callas”, the sincerity digs itself even deeper into the skeletons of the songs.

Download: Buffalo Tom – THREE EASY PIECES
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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TONES OF TOWN – Field Music
The Sunderland trio have a knack for crafting absurdly clever, yet intrinsically simple, pop songs. From the chiming intro and joyous guitar riff of opener ‘Give It Lose It Take It’ right through to album closer ‘She Can Do What She Wants’ with its constantly changing style, bold brassy bass, and sweet as candy vocals. There simply isn’t a bad song on this album.
Field Music are never afraid to try something different – ‘Sit Tight’ features wailing screams at the beginning and beat-boxing at the end, hemming in call-to-arms drums, constantly shifting melodies and a feeling of dark paranoia. The title track is crammed full of strange noises and multilayered vocals, with instruments appearing and disappearing all over the place so you’re never quite sure what it is you’re listening to. Rather than sounding confused or too busy, this approach serves to make you listen harder, straining to discern the marimba or vibraphone or strings or bizarre percussion, and it’s thoroughly charming.
The album has a solid theme of home – beginning with ‘Tones Of Town’ and continuing with a chunk of four songs dedicated to being away from home or feeling dislocated from it. ‘A House Is Not A Home’ has great bouncy guitars and delicate strings (“What’s the use in going home again/when it’s always the same”), which segues seamlessly into ‘Kingston’, dealing with displacement and disillusionment (“You work hard you get paid/but what’s the sense/it really makes no difference”). Then ‘Working To Work’ runs with this feeling, declaring “You’re working to work/and you pay to play” over a sprightly, upbeat melody and catchy, sing-along refrains. ‘In Context’ is explicit in its subject matter – “You’re a long way from home/all of the thoughts you have are not your own” – as the meandering guitar lines, rippling bass and joyous whooping at the end makes you want to dance along.
Although this album is chock full of musical gems, ‘A Gap Has Appeared’ is a particular highlight. With its soft, muted vocal style, multi-layered harmonies and lush strings, it’s so completely enchanting it’d still be perfect without any vocal accompaniment. ‘Closer At Hand’ is a personal favourite – the song seems to suddenly appear, closely segued with the previous track, and simply delights from the very first chord. Chiming guitars, perfect keyboards, lovely little touches like the do-do-do rhythm and a keyboard that sounds like sighing vocals make the song instantly catchy. Always lyrically stunning, they really excel here, and the chorus is mind-blowingly ace: “Don’t you say no/‘cause the longer we go/the closer at hand/I want you still and we are closer at hand”. It doesn’t make any sense written down but I defy anyone to listen to this song and not leap about like a fool with a shit-eating grin their face.
The album is unpredictable, ridiculously clever, catchy as hell and as perfect a pop album as you’re ever likely to hear.

Download: Field Music – TONES OF TOWN
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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VOLTA - Bjork
Here’s a mark of just how special Bjork is, how defined her artistic character: she can invite any amount of guests into the studio – African junk-percussion groups, futurist hip-hop producers, improv drummers, emotive torch-singers, Warp Records techno heads – and still come out with an album that sounds like no one but herself. The Icelandic vocalist’s sixth solo studio album, Volta, is both a work of extraordinary, driven experimentation and glorious, singalong pop – outsider sounds carried into the mainstream through Bjork’s sheer sense of vision.
The opening '’Earth Intruders’' sets the tone for Volta’s multi-faceted, guest-heavy approach. Produced by Timbaland and featuring percussion from collaboration-happy improv drummer Chris Corsano and Konono No.1, a Congolese shanty-town collective who build a polyrhythmic shuffle out of makeshift percussion and electric thumb-pianos, it’s an ecstatic, bounding war march, Bjork chanting ‘We are the earth intruders/We are the paratroopers/Stampede of sharpshooters’. There’s more evidence on Volta that Bjork’s in a percussive kind of mood – Corsano pops up on another track, ‘I See Who You Are’, while another freeform drummer, Brian Chippendale of experimental duo Lightning Bolt adds a distant, chaotic rumble to the Antony Hegarty duet, ‘’The Dull Flame Of Desire’’. But just as common is jarring techno beats, the warm horns of an Icelandic brass section, or the twang of the African kora.
Ultimately, then, it’s easiest to understand Volta through the precocious personality of Bjork herself. Here, she sounds energised and politicised - ‘’Hope’’ is a philosophical tract about suicide bombers, while ‘’Declare Independence’’ finds her chanting ‘Start your own currency/Make your own stamp/Protect your language/Declare independence’ over robust electronic beats and glitches. But also, Volta is shot through with a very immediate, live-for-the-moment passion. On ‘’I See Who You Are’’, Bjork celebrates her lover’s body before aging and death takes its toll: ‘Let’s celebrate now/All this flesh on our bones/Let me push you up against me tightly/And enjoy every bit of you.’ Joyful, expressive, brave, intelligent: in short, another great Bjork album.

Download: Bjork - VOLTA
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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WAIT FOR ME – The Pigeon Detectives
Wait For Me is chock full of smart, snappy indie pop anthems that confront the rigours of youth, its anxieties, its petty squabbles and its hedonsim and sexuality. But aren't they all?, I hear you say. My only bad comment is that despite some excellent tunes, some songs blur into one another and struggle to emerge as anything other than album fillers. It’s a shame, given the potential displayed in its very best moments.
If Romantic Type kicks things off with some crash, bang, wallop drums and sharp guitar riffs to deliver a sparkling indie pop romp, and I Found Out follows seamlessly with more catchy punk-inflicted hooks (think Buzzcocks) and chanty, shout-along backing vocals (think Kaiser Chiefs), then they're merely setting things up for the long haul.
Don’t Know How To Say Goodbye is a cheeky nod to young infatuation and drink that thrives on some spunky hooks but it’s followed by another in the same mould, Caught In Your Trap – ie, similar theme, similar delivery, similar catchiness…
There’s a moment during the opening bars of Can’t Control Myself that you think “aah, slower number” and relish the prospect of a maturer, more reflective offering – but come the minute mark, the guitars kick in and we’re off at breakneck pace again. The song pretty much encapsulates all that’s good and bad about the album. Don’t get me wrong, I like it (sometimes very much) but come the riotous final track I’m Always Right you might be craving a little more layering, a little more substance and a little something to prevent them being, erm, pigeon holed.
That said, I'm going to give them the benefit of the doubt – this is a debut album after all – and further recommend tracks like the melody-strewn You Know I Love You and title track Wait For Me.

Download: The Pigeon Detectives – WAIT FOR ME
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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WE WERE DEAD BEFORE THE SHIP EVEN SANK – Modest Mouse
Much has been made of the fact that the Mouse (The Mice?) have been forerunners in the move of so-called 'indie' into the mainstream arena, having scored a very palpable major label hit with Float On from 2004’s Good News For People Who Like Bad News, after ten years of cult-status. Yet maybe the fuss should be about how Isaac Brock’s band of merry men managed this without tarnishing their credentials. We Were Dead… shows everyone how to do it. It’s wonderfully mangled and yet massively accomplished at the same time. Some trick.
With serial collaborator Johnny Marr, onboard to add a touch of jangly Mancunian magic to the Issaquah band, the rough edges of MM’s earlier indie racket have been smoothed to a chart-friendly sheen. This often involves the current trend of cramming in as much as possible; brass sections, accordions, massed backing vocals etc. But this rodent wins over the rest of the ratpack by dint of vertiginous arrangements and an irrepressible bounce.
There are still issues surrounding Brock’s voice. His adopted shout/squeal/growl/rant is an acquired taste that is often at odds with the lush surroundings, but the amusingly wry lyrics and plainly hummable tunes mean that We Were…should yield at least a couple of chart-worrying singles. First single, ‘’Dashboard’’, is a fine example of this. All Talking Heads stuttering guitars, over-excited vocals and yet still with an eye towards the more avant garde end of contemporary math-rock. Even bringing to mind current cutting edge darlings, Battles.
James Mercer of the Shins, another band to push maverick tendencies back towards the mainstream, turns up top harmonise on three tracks; notably the edgy and witty “We’ve Got Everything” which even manages to sound like 80s-period Yes in places. Again it’s a remarkable balancing act that manages to simultaneously take chances while daring you to sing along. It’s a breathtakingly audacious ruse, and works on about 70 percent of this glittering, slightly surreal album. This is the Mouse that roars…

Download: Modest Mouse – WE WERE DEAD BEFORE THE SHIP EVEN SANK
(available for 7 days from date of post)
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WRITER’S BLOCK – Peter Bjorn And John
Writer's Block's sonic textures demand attention: odd synths, overdriven bass, dreamy harmonies, rolling drums, pink streaks of guitar noise, or a foot tapping in soft focus. But ultimately, the album is just as notable for the way it captures both the electric first moments of a deep relationship and the bleary aftermath of post-breakup malaise. The infectious, lazily whistled hook and playful bongo drums of first single "Young Folks" are immediately inviting, but the song's second layer, the coy chemistry between Peter Morén and ex-Concretes singer Victoria Bergsman, adds depth, as the song's two hopeful strangers discover each other by chance: "All we care about is talking/ Talking only me and you."
As an album, Writer's Block shares these new lovers' singular focus. "Paris 2004" is a classical guitar-tinged traveler's ballad; "Start to Melt" flickers with amazed adoration; and "Objects of My Affection" combines the dramatic flair of an uncharacteristically upbeat Morrissey with the nasal vocals and ringing acoustic guitars of a post-Loveless "Like a Rolling Stone".
Amid the simplistic percussion and glassy chorus of "Amsterdam", Bjorn Yttling mopes over his loneliness during a lover's vacation, before John Erikkson's starry-eyed "Up Against the Wall" pictures a relationship at the precipice. "It's almost that I wish we hadn't met at all," sings Erikkson against a crystalline rhythm that could pack a John Hughes prom.
And at last, Yttling's big-screen "Roll the Credits" pictures an escape, but as usual on Writer's Block, the romance fills the frame: "It's between me and her now/ Can't separate at all/ Let's put the cards back in the sleeve." Only droning closer "Poor Cow" kills the mood, like the George Harrison sitar song contrarians might revisit when the rest of the album grows overly familiar.
If lyric poetry is, as Czech novelist Milan Kundera wrote, "the most exemplary incarnation of man dazzled by his own soul and the desire to make it heard," surely the pop song is the highest incarnation of all-consuming love and its fundamental need to be shared. Writer's Block, indeed.

Download: Peter Bjorn And John – WRITER’S BLOCK
(available for 7 days from date of post)