The Professional Appreciator

Live: Minus the Bear

2006-05-20T04:00:00.000-04:00

Who: Minus the Bear
Where: Common Grounds, Gainesville, Florida
When: May 18, 2006

Minus the Bear seem like a bunch of dudes who take themselves way too seriously. (Not what you'd expect from a band who has titled songs along the lines of "Hey, Wanna Throw Up? Get Me Naked")

Don't get me wrong, their set is not a bad one by far. Technically, they were perfect. The guitars were a little low in the mix and the bass a little high, but that made me realize exactly how fucking awesome their underrated bass player, Corey Murchy, manages the rhythm section. Sadly, the most anticipated song of the night, "Pachuca Sunrise," was the most poorly executed: it's pace too slow, it's emotion too lacking. The best songs of the set were Menos El Oso compatriots "Drilling," "The Fix," "Fulfill the Dream," and "The Game Needed Me," whose otherworldly polyrhythms had guitarist David Knudson swinging on his effects pedal like an Olympic speed-skater rounding a turn. The premier of "a new song" had me seeing visions of the band as a late summer M2 megahit.

The crowd was a mix of DudeBrahs, their Sorors, and the indie dedicated. This concoction calls for a certain amount of tolerance on behalf of the band, which they sorely lacked. When a Volcom clad attendee climbed the stairs to pull off the inevitable sophmoric stage dive, lead singer Jake Snider abandoned all efforts to keep the song ("Hooray") together in an effort to physically harm the offender. Not cool, brah. Let it go. We want you guys to have a good time too.

Review: Shearwater

2006-05-09T14:45:00.000-04:00

Shearwater - Palo Santo
Misra
Released: May 9, 2006
Rating: A+

All too often, a band will release an album to muted fanfare due to a certain reputation the band has built for themselves. Sometimes the band has underacheived (Pinback) and a great album comes from seemingly out of nowhere. Other times, the band is born as a side project or solo outing from a more revered or successful act (Sam Prekop from The Sea and Cake), releases an incredible album which is automatically assumed inferior or simply composed of cast-offs from the main group. Such is the case with Palo Santo, the new album from Shearwater, which started out as a side project for Jonathan Meiburg and Will Sheff of Okkervil River. But not only does Palo Santo hold its own against Okkervil River's 2005 masterpiece Black Sheep Boy, it surpasses it in almost all respects.

For the first time on Palo Santo, Meiburg handled all singing and songwriting, and what results is a huge leap from the somber, relative straightforward folk of their previous albums. As a songwriter, he has a flair for the dramatic and a voice that is both affecting and determined. It is an album that is fun to play name-that-influence with, but like all great albums, the influences are meshed in a unique individuality. Radiohead, Pink Floyd, Modest Mouse, and Talking Heads can be heard coursing through the songs as prevalently as the more traditional folk influences. What results is not so much the outlandish experimentism and cacophony this implies, but a well-rounded, deceptively straightforward, restrained masterpiece.

The first track, "La Dame et la Licorne," is a perfect cross between Antony and Radiohead, as it begins with Meiburg's operatic voice hovering over slow moving piano and static. There is a premature explosion, as he screams, "Bring back my boy!" as he demonstrates the barely contained emotion lurking right below the surface. His composure returns, at least until the natural buildup permits him once again to let loose. "Red Sea, Black Sea" is composed of staccato organ stabs, banjo, and a straight 4/4 dance beat. Again, he employs Thom Yorke's melodrama, but chirps maniacally like Isaac Brock during the chorus. "Seventy-Four, Seventy-Five" is structurally similar to "Red Sea, Black Sea" but employs piano instead of organ, and results in the most outward rock assault on the album. Meiburg sounds as if he is on the verge of breaking, very Roger Waters-esque, as he sings, "Seventy-four, seventy five, daddy come back to me now." This, the most obviously damaging song on the record, is followed by the warmest, most straightforward folk songs with "Nobody" and "Sing Little Birdie." But however warm they seem their angelic harmonies and melodies belie a sadness and danger that is discernible in fragments from the mostly indecipherable lyrics.

The only area that Black Sheep Boy has Palo Santo beat is in the lyrics. BSB was clear, insightful storytelling; as literate (if not moreso) than anything indie signpost Colin Meloy has ever done, as well as darker and more relevant. The lyrics here come through in bursts, discernible one second, muddled and unclear the next, but always dramatic. Well over half the emotion, however, is contained in the delivery, and Meiburg is one hell of an affecting singer. The production is absolutely stellar; alternately haunting, murky, and disturbingly clear. The recording volume isn't jammed at the top, thus there is more room for subtleties to be heard, more room for the songs to breathe. Hopefully, Shearwater will be recognized from now on not as Okkervil River's second fiddle, but as a band in their own right, and Meiburg and Sheff will get the recognition due for this excellent album they have created: as the absolutely essential songwriters they have become.

Live: Silver Jews

2006-03-21T22:45:00.000-05:00

Who: Silver Jews
Where: The Grey Eagle Tavern, Asheville, North Carolina
When: March 12, 2006

To say the Silver Jews' tour was eagerly anticipated is quite an understatement. Culling an intensely devoted cult following for over a decade, Dave Berman has never set foot onstage under the Silver Jews moniker. But shit, even Jandek made a few live appearances recently, so Berman must have thought, "What the hell, if he can play live, so can I, and I even have talent!" What has resulted is one of the most anticipated indie rock tours I can remember, and the small/medium size venues were selling out as if they had booked Radiohead.

What added icing on the cake for me was that the Asheville show's opener was to be Edith Frost, who's last album I enjoyed greatly. But alas, she was ill and had to cancel, so we got a Nashville trio calling themselves Lone Official, who were basically a big ripoff of The Sea and Cake and Wilco. Even more annoying than the music was the lead singer's face, which was the most strained, constipated singing face I have ever seen, and this compounded my annoyance since the vocals were so soft, he made Sam Prekop seem like Jello Biafra screaming through a megaphone by comparison. No matter, I can survive this for ten songs: the SILVER JEWS are playing tonight!

Understandably, Berman was shaky; it was only his third show ever. He even brought out a notebook containing his lyrics. There were often miscues on his part, false starts and restarts. None of which the crowd seemed to mind; it was one of the most boisterous and supportive crowds I've been apart of. In fact, the notebook and the slight missteps added to his charm and the uniqueness of our experience: an experience obviously long-awaited for many in attendance. At one point, Berman put on a big smile and exclaimed, "Goddamn it, we're the Silver fucking Jews, for Christ's sake, of COURSE we're gonna fuck it up!" The crowd erupted ecstatically in applause.

To Berman's credit, he backed himself with great performers, who he could lean on for support, most notably his wife, Cassie. She has the beauty and grace of a 1950s movie star, and proved to be the anchor for Berman. He often looked to her for guidance, and she always kept an eye on him, making sure he stayed steady. What resulted was a growing confidence throughout the set for Berman, as he seemed more and more at ease as the show went on, playing favorites such as "Smith and Jones Forever," "Trains Across the Sea," "Buckingham Rabbit," and "Random Rules." The band really hit their stride on the closing song, "Punks in the Beerlight," as Berman abandoned his lyrical aid, and the band was at its most energetic, easily whipping the crowd into a frenzy and ending the show on the best possible note.

The best thing about this show was the contentment and giddiness that was seemingly enjoyed by all, including the band. For the fans, it was all about wish fulfillment: finally seeing one of their heroes play some of their favorite songs. The band were also in high spirits throughout the set, as they joked, laughed, and videotaped, and seemed genuinely happy and humbled by the great reaction they were getting from the crowd. Time will tell if this tour is a one time thing for the Silver Jews, or if this is only the start of regular touring. Either way, it was great to see them at the beginning, before the novelty has worn off, and the band (and fans) are used to the idea of the Silver Jews playing live.

Review: Mogwai

2006-03-07T02:08:00.000-05:00

Mogwai - Mr. Beast
Matador
Released: March 7, 2006
Rating: C+

Poor Mogwai. From the king of all bands who live under the daunting shadow of their debut comes Mr. Beast, and by all indications, this unfortunate trend will continue. This isn't to say that Mr. Beast is particularly bad or even disappointing, but when compared to the promising genius that was Young Team, the newest offering from the Glaswegians simply doesn't measure up. I'm not saying that this is fair. Hell, Young Team was released about 9 years ago. But if Mr. Beast was recorded by any other band, it would register only the smallest blip on the radar of underground music.

Mogwai have always been a band whose main musical device was the buildup and release of tension, constantly (theoretically) carrying the listener through the composition until an ultimate conclusion. Whether it be loud guitar crunch or the more subdued multi-instrumentation that they've been developing over the last few albums, they always have an intended destination. The execution of this compositional movement is critical for a band like Mogwai, who play a very palpable, mostly instrumental post-rock. Mr. Beast continues this trend, and features waves and waves of buildup that ultimately wash out and leave the listener stranded. Obvious exceptions to this are album openers "Auto Rock" and "Glasgow Mega-Snake," the former relying on piano and synth drones and the latter a brutal guitar assault of Mogwai legend.

Mogwai's albums also seem to follow a pattern of constant build up throughout their entirety, a sort of interstate leading to the final destination of the last track. After following Mr. Beast as a whole, it comes as little surprise "We're No Here" is not the album closer one was hoping for. It uses ideas recycled from earlier on without building upon them and ends the album in a mumble rather than a confident proclamation.

Unfortunately, Mr. Beast is very top-heavy. The album features beautiful production and great technical proficiency throughout, but the composition is wanting, and songs end up wandering aimlessly. One exception is "Acid Food," the album's third and possibly best all around song. Synths dust the song with subtle polyrhythms, provide a great melodic twist, and end by blending perfectly into a beautiful steel guitar. The rest of the album lacks any true standouts, even though there are no real missteps. It's the sound of a band playing it safe, for better or worse, and it ultimately leads to forgettable and sometimes boring results.

buy it from insound!

Review: Love is All

2006-02-23T09:01:00.000-05:00

Love is All - Nine Times That Same Song
What's Your Rupture?
Released: January 31, 2006 (U.S.)
Rating: B+

See if you can relate: an album arrives with tremendous hype, you give it a few precursory spins only to be underwhelmed. You shelve it, rarely ever to return, and you curse the tastemakers of the world. Well, that's hype for you. But if you spend all of your time chasing after all of the We Are Scientists and Arctic Monkeys of the world, you would never have time for actual music enjoyment. I feel that my B.S. detector is finely tuned, and I was surprised that my gamble on Love is All's Nine Times That Same Song seemed to not pay off.

But for some reason, after relegating it to the also-ran pile, there was a nagging voice in the back of my brain, telling me to pay more attention to it. A few more listens proved revelatory, and this experience, the antipole of the experience listed above, is music lover's gold. I've found a grower, and at least for me, these are the albums that end up meaning the most, those that are not forgotten over the years. Everything that was at first a deterrent for me had now became a plus: the vocals buried under a sea of reverb, the lo-fi version of Phil Spector's wall of sound, the obvious post-punk benchmarks. They have noticeable shortcomings as a band in the technical aspects, but the cacophonous, whitewashing production style does a good job covering up their flaws. Besides, this album isn't about skills, it's about enthusiasm and excitement. Nine Times isn't a landmark album, and it doesn't have a very original sound, and they've been often compared to the obvious reference point of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. They share the same sort of energy and the vocals from the lead track, "Talk Talk Talk Talk" is pretty much identical to the YYY's "Tick," but that is where the similarities end. Love is All are a much better band and they are at turns more boisterous, beautiful, exuberant, and intelligent than their NYC counterparts.

True to the album's title, there is a definite repetition of themes revolving around the L-word, but Josephine Olausson manages to keep things fresh, as she highlights the mundane circumstance, confusion, and mindgames of relationships without once sounding overly twee. The first half of the record is full of disappointment and annoyance; Olausson pleads for personal space on the aforementioned "Talk" and takes satirical aim at a partner's emphasis on youth in "Ageing Has Never Been His Friend." "Turn the Radio Off" does more with less instrumentation than any song on Nine Times, and is musically a striking standout. She sums up the feeling of the first half of the record nicely in the chorus, as she proclaims, "I leave the sunshine out/ I'll turn the radio off/ Hey world, I've had enough." She quickly qualifies her remarks as a mood and saves herself from melodrama, "I've got all that I need/ And so much more/ Still I yearn for something more." There is a watershed in her mindset that's apparent on the album's climax, "Make Out Fall Out Make Up," as a cheeriness and acceptance of circumstances becomes apparent, and this attitude is more or less carried throughout the rest of the songs. "Records and clothes on the floor/ Remind me of the night before/ A pounding pain in my head/ I think I'll spend all day in bed!" and later, "Dancing in the living room/ Light supplied by the moon" indicate her curtains are again open, and she's beginning to take a healthier outlook on things. "Make Out" is the albums centerpiece, and quite possibly the best track here. It combines everything that make the album a success: a singalong chorus, rapid-fire drumming, and a melody that grows more and more addictive.

The album's two closing tracks, "Turn the TV Off" and "Trying Too Hard" are reciprocals of one another, the former an upbeat, ebullient track with a surfrock feel and the latter is simply composed, somber, and understated. They both express the same sentiments of "I was trying too hard," and "I've got to get myself together," but they approach the same subject matter from opposite ends of the emotional spectrum. This is a perfect example of the strengths of Love is All; even though you've heard it all before (umm... nine times to be exact), they never grow stale in sound, style, or delivery.

buy it from insound!

Live: The Fiery Furnaces

2006-02-22T12:45:00.000-05:00

Who: The Fiery Furnaces
Where: Common Grounds, Gainesville, Florida
When: February 20, 2006

All too often, a band's live set is a clone of their recorded output. The most egregious offender I've ever been privy to is The Strokes; the variation between Is This It?'s recorded sound and the live interpretation was nonexistent. Luckily, there are bands still out there that separate the two experiences, reserving their live show for something totally unique.

First of all, opening act deadboy & the Elephantmen were able enough as a twopiece. Their songwriting abilities are well above average, and they boast the hottest drummer in the history of rock and roll with Tessie Brunet, who is at least thrice as versatile as Meg White. They alternate between crackly electro-blues and indie ballads, which is easy in concept but difficult in execution. They set the stage well for The Fiery Furnaces, whose electric brutality was about to confound and befuddle some and astound others.

Did you know that Blueberry Boat is one of the loudest, most aggressive post-punk albums ever written? I didn't either until I saw them last year at Coachella. To the surprise of their fans, the Furnaces didn't bring a single damn keyboard along with them on tour. Live, their songs are defined by angular, aggressive riffs and chant-sing vocals by Eleanor Friedberger, and sometimes the instrumentation borders on prog-metal. One interesting twist is that Eleanor sang almost all of brother Matthew's vocal turns, most notably on "Inspector Blancheflower." They have a no nonsense approach to their set, a very NYC ethos. Their live interpretations of their well-known recorded output surprised many in the crowd who clearly didn't recognize some of their favorites. Others, however, latched onto the energy, particularly a certain albino with a bizarre head tic who slam-danced his way to the edge of the stage. The highlights to me were "Straight Street" from Blueberry Boat and "Single Again," the lead track from 2005's EP. It was almost as if AC/DC teamed with Dinosaur Jr. with Grace Slick on vocals to perform the hits of The Fiery Furnaces. I only wish that the band would release a live performance, just to show how versatile their arrangements can be.

I think that Rule #1 in The Fiery Furnaces' manifesto is "No Smiling." While obviously in the moment, the band never played to the crowd. In fact, the only slight amusement the band showed was after the announcement that the next few songs were going to be from Rehearsing My Choir, an announcement that was met with a resounding silence by the crowd (however, the performance of these songs left me wondering why the album was deemed "unlistenable" by most critics). They were often overly sloppy with the material they were trying out from the forthcoming Bitter Tea, showing no remorse or embarrassment for stopping and restarting a brand new song right in the middle. These are almost expected pitfalls for a band so versatile and prolific as the Furnaces; a band that has no trouble twisting established arrangements into a totally new experience, and well worth the unexpected joy produced by the new interpretations.

Review: P.O.S. -Audition

2006-02-17T15:24:00.000-05:00

P.O.S. - Audition
Rhymesayers Entertainment
Released: January 31, 2006
Rating: A

I know what you're thinking: Great...another mall punk who thinks he can strap on a backpack and write rhymes as a form of therapy. And granted, the fusion of the punk rock ethic and hip-hop consciousness isn't a new concept. So why is P.O.S.'s sophomore album, Audition, so compelling? It boils down to sincerity and intensity. Too many indie-hoppers get caught up in their own melodramatic suburban angst while losing sight of their relevance. No one wants to listen to someone rehash the same morbid, metaphoric mantra over and over again. But, P.O.S. rises above the filler and proves himself to be worthy of the hype.

So here's the scoop: P.O.S. is part of a Minnesota based collective known as Doomtree. As far as I can tell, the talent in this mixed bag of DJ's, producers and emcees is bananas. P.O.S., which stands for a variety of things such as Pissed off Stef, Promise of Skill and of course the obvious Piece of Shit, is part Sage Francis and part Dr. Know of Bad Brains. He's played in touring punk and hardcore bands such as Cadillac Blindside and Building Better Bombs, but found his niche in hip-hop as an emcee and producer.

Audition is more than a step up from his 2004 debut, Ipecac Neat. It's not that his first effort was terrible, but there wasn't anything unique about it. P.O.S. has truly seemed to find his voice on his latest effort. He's backed by an impressive supporting cast including the benevolent Slug of Atmosphere fame, various Doomtree cohorts and a few less intuitive guests to be named later. The production is as energetic and powerful as any Rhymesayers release to date. The beats were crafted in part by P.O.S. himself and partly by members of his clique, such as Lazerbeak and Turbo Nemesis.

P.O.S. wastes no time bullshitting around. He lets us know exactly where he stands. His first proper line, from "Half-Cocked Concepts" begins with a near-screaming P.O.S. saying, "First of all, fuck Bush. That's all, that's the end of it / Second, give it up to RSE for hooking up a kid." Talk about getting off on the right foot with a guy like me. It's apparent early on that this is going to be right up my alley. P.O.S.'s hardcore roots seep into the very foundation of his music. The evidence is sometimes subtle, such as the way his history stains the fabric of the beats and and obvious other times, as in the unabashedly scream-o chorus on "Concepts."

Next, on "De La Souls," I would expect to see the boys from Long Island, (Posnoduous, Dave and Maseo of De La Soul) as guests. But instead, a rather unlikey guest crops up. Bouncing Soul's Greg Attonito lends his croon using parts of "Argyle" to the track. At first, when I heard the rumor of this I admit that I thought it would feel forced and out of place. To my surprise it actually flowed nicely with the dynamics of the song. Andy yes, it gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside from the high school-era nostalgia it stirred up. The beats get switched up on this one, in favor of a quiet, glitchy palette for P.O.S. to spit rhymes over.

Next on "Stand Up (Let's Get Murdered)," Doomtree beatsmith Lazerbeak gets to show off his digs. His style fits right in with the Rhymesayers decór. It's almost as if he apprenticed under resident production guru, Ant. P.O.S. gives us a taste of his activist side here with lines like, "I'm patriotic like a fox. I hung my flag high, but must have misunderstood when Beanie Siegel was like 'Ayo, light that shit the fuck up!' / I ain't white and there's laws for that, so I use color-safe bleach at the laundromat, and deal with it. Usually how my squad react: we keep our hands warm with the Patriot Act." Something like that, anyway. You get the idea.

The album keeps rolling with a gratuitous Slug cameo here, more angry and inspired beats there. And then the next surprise steps out of the shadows. "Safety in Speed (Heavy Metal)" starts off innocently enough. A haunting melody is loosely woven into a crawling beat held together by an unassuming handclap, when all of the sudden, the unmistakable voice of Craig Finn from The Hold Steady sneaks up and begins a soliloquy about his dislike of a certain 1987 action-adventure summer blockbuster. Finn explains, "And the posters in the lobby of the theater called it Predator. I called it weak and unwatchable. / Carl Withers and two future governors. You know it's really unacceptable." At first I didn't know what to think. I mean, the rant started off humorously irrelevant. Okay, I can dig random. Then P.O.S. reeled it in,
and revealed the metaphor. The song turns out to be about our tendancy to tune out the world around us and sink into our comfortably numb habits. They urge us to wake up and pay attention. Word.

The rest of the album is more of the same, and that's not a bad thing. Throw in another Slug cameo and there you have it. P.O.S. and his Doomtree guest stars keep the album interesting and engaging. Don't write this one off as just another emo emcee rhyming about suicide over depressing beats. There's more to it than that, and I doubt we've seen the last of P.O.S.

buy it from insound!

Live: Of Montreal

2006-02-16T08:04:00.000-05:00

Who: Of Montreal
Where: Reitz Ballroom, Gainesville, Florida
When: February 15, 2006

Notoriously bad at advanced promotion, it seems that UF's Student Government didn't make the public aware of this free show until a few days before it actually took place. For the most part, I have a finger on the pulse of the musical goings-on in Gainesville, and I didn't hear about it until the day before. No worries. If it's free, the students will come.

Part of a series of free shows offered by the Reitz Union Board, the show was supposed to kick off at around 7:30, and I'd written it off as yet another "Can't go, gotta work." Luckily, my co-worker got a call at 11:00 saying that Of Montreal hadn't yet taken the stage, so we promptly closed shop and hauled ass. Needless to say, I was not in the right mindset for a show, nor properly attired in my toner-stained khakis and New Balances I bought around the dawn of man.

Unfortunately, the venue didn't inspire my frame of mind, as it is your typical faceless conference room, usually filled with students at orientation, Student Government meetings, etc. The sound was predictably sub-par, not very loud and way too much echo off the cold, blank walls. The crowd was pretty much what I'd expect: droves of young indie rockers who I've never noticed around town, the type who haven't yet discovered the local venues. The crowd responded quite well to the band, especially the sugary electro-pop of their last two albums, Satanic Panic in the Attic and The Sunlandic Twins. The energy grew as the show went on, as large chunks of the crowd erupted into spastic group-dance. Perhaps it was the last magical remnants of Elephant 6 in the air, or perhaps there was one hell of a pre-party.

The band fed off this energy, as they seemed to get more and more into the music. In between costume changes and instrument swapping, lead singer Kevin Barnes moved to a very self-conscious but sincere rock-star vibe. He has an Iggy Pop frame with early Bowie glam tendencies, or as my friend put it, he "looks like the guy from Placebo," and I realized that Of Montreal's newer material does have a few (probably not solicited) Placebo comparison points.

And just as quickly as the night had started, the show was over and there I was, in the middle of the UF campus in my work clothes. Did I really just see Of Montreal for free?

Live: The Hold Steady/ The Plastic Constellations/ Swearing at Motorists

2006-02-09T21:55:00.000-05:00

The Plastic Constellations

Who: The Hold Steady/ The Plastic Constellations/ Swearing at Motorists
Where: Common Grounds, Gainesville, Florida
When: February 7, 2006

Ok. I went to this show to see The Plastic Constellations. I was already a convert. French Kiss labelmates The Hold Steady were merely an afterthought. But now I'm also a believer in the power of Craig Finn. Together, these two bands put on one of the most exciting shows I've seen in nearly a year, and it's unfortunate Swearing at Motorists has to plop down right in between the two on the bill.

As far as I'm concerned, The Plastic Constellations are the most criminally overlooked band in indiehood (with the possible exception of Okkervil River), and I do not understand why they don't have a larger national following. They posses the most important qualities (killer chops, energy, looks, youth, style) of a huge post-punk outfit, and in a parallel universe with better taste, they could be radioplay staples. In fact, only minutes before the show did I realize they were the openers, not Swearing at Motorists. So, they open, and there's an unfortunate paucity in attendance. They were by far the most honestly exuberant band to play. Their music is fun; they enjoy what they're doing and they are genuinely excited that people dig it. After the show, I found it refreshing that they were "good dudes," down-to-earth guys and actually happy to spend time with fans. They somewhat play to the crowd, but most of their antics are for each other, and this added a sincerity and spontaneity to their act. The band tore through most of the best cuts from Crusades with aplomb, beginning with "Phoenix and the Faultline," and winding through "Sancho Panza," "Iron City Jungles" and "Belly of the Beast."

Ok, Swearing at Motorists. The thing about their show was that it wasn't bad. Dave Doughman's live persona lies somewhere between an old crooner and a wino, and his songs are plenty entertaining enough. However, his set lacked the necessary oomph to carry the show properly into the headliner. After and hour long set, everyone was more than ready for main act.

I have both Almost Killed Me and Separation Sunday, and while I do like both of those records, I believed that there was too much hype surrounding the band, and quite frankly, they were overrated. That was before Craig Finn took the stage and immediately began some crazy clap dance. After seeing them live, I don't believe that their albums do them justice. Craig Finn is the consummate showman. In between his speak/sing lines, he constantly stepped away from the mic, ranting and raving to the crowd, pointing here, gesturing there, and clapping like Tinkerbell was dying. His supporting cast was also impressive, and every time Tad Kubler swung that guitar around his neck and shoulder in a full 360, I thought it would fly off and hit me right in the face. Also, they are the only band I've seen whose "new material" was as excellent and crowd pleasing as their tried'n'true fan favorites (can't WAIT for their next album). Guarantee: whenever The Hold Steady come within 100 miles of me, I'll be there. Hopefully, they'll promote their promising young labelmates up to second string. But on second thought, maybe they separate the two acts for a safety reason: without the lull, the venue might vaporize from the electricity.

Review: The Plastic Constellations

2006-01-25T16:56:00.000-05:00

The Plastic Constellations - Crusades
French Kiss Records
Released: January 24, 2006
Rating: A

Ah, the chorus. I'm not exactly sure what led to the demise of the most important component of the pop song structure in indie music. Perhaps it was an overemphasis on "originality" or "experimentation." Either way, a great chorus is hard to come by in underground music these days. Witness, for instance, the regrettable drudgery that underground hip hop has dragged itself into in terms of melody. Don't get me wrong, there have been great releases by Sage Francis, Edan, Cyne, and Cage over the last year, but only Sage produced a few truly memorable hooks. Even more dire is the paint-by-numbers mentality of the more successful indie rock bands; the most important songwriting decision seemingly being whether to sound jangly or angular. If it weren't for songs like "Since U Been Gone" or "Hey Now Now" a rundown of 2005's rock singles would have appeared to spring from a single hive-mind.

Enter The Plastic Constellations. The Minneapolis four-piece has garnered lots of press after their rollicking live shows led the Twin Cities' own Slug to proclaim, "This city is not big enough to hold their energy." From first hand experience, Atmosphere's poet ain't wrong. Their second album, Mazatlan, was released in 2004 on the 2024 label and gained widespread critical acclaim, as the group proved deft at crafting anthemic, boisterous choruses steeped in the influence of post-punk and the grandiose rock of the late 1970s. They've since moved up to French Kiss to release their follow-up, the excellently excecuted Crusades. They still maintain a consistent blend of their disparate influences and their deftness at the refrain is bolstered by a confidence that comes with maturity, albeit a maturity that isn't afraid to rock your ass.

There are more opportunities to scream along exuberantly with your beer fist overhead on this record than most rock bands provide in a career. True to the album's title, there is a band-against-the-world mentality that pervades the lyrics, creating a fight-or-die sense of urgency. The eanestness in which they cast their many calls-to-arms leaves no conjecture as to posturing; and the giddiness and blunt force of their delivery leaves no doubt as to self-appointed righteousness. The album wastes no time, diving right into a "Fuck you, we fight!" moment in "Phoenix and the Faultline" as they scream, "We're not going to the belly of the beast/ It may be wrong but we refuse to just retreat/ We're not going, we're not going, we're not going/ Boys, we're staying right where we stand!" The bravado only gets bolder and catchier as the album moves along, such as in "Iron City Jungles" as they proclaim, "From the porch to the backseats/ We can agree/ There's no point in relaxing/ When you can still breathe" and also, "We'll run the streets!" The exact enemy remains unclear throughout the album (like it matters), "I'm not saying it should make much sense/ I just wish we knew what we were up against," they proclaim on "Belly of the Beast." Whoever it is, boys, I've got your back.

The biggest improvement over Mazatlan is the virtuosity and complexity in the instrumentation. The album exudes confidence, perhaps a result of maturing together (they've been playing together since 1995, when they were 14) or perhaps because of the larger budget they're working with. Whatever the case, the musical aspect is elevated to a level nearly as anthemic, grandiose, and effective as the choruses themselves. The guitars become weapons in their own right, as huge chords and proggy, single note progressions carry much more weight than they did on their previous efforts. The rhythm section does an admirable job reigning in all the enthuisasm, and pushes and pulls each song where needed to create a cohesive whole consisting of volatile little packages.

Clocking in at under 35 minutes, Crusades is a concise mission statement. The Plastic Constellations don’t fall prey to ironic trappings like most indie rock outfits of similar ilk and prove a good point: when put into able hands, rock can still pull off being simultaneously sincere and uncompromisingly jubilant. More importantly though, Crusades is some of the most riotous fun a rock album has offered in quite awhile.

buy it from insound!

Jesse's Top 20 Albums of 2005

2005-12-23T13:03:00.000-05:00

Perusing my list this year, I found 4 Canadian bands, 2 Frenchmen, 2 Chicagoans, 2 homegrown Florida boys and an album about a state (can you guess what that is?). There was excellent music coming from everywhere in 2005. While the best album of the year wasn't a runaway as it was in 2004, there were a ton of really great albums bottlenecking at the top of the list. After too much soul searching and a needlessly complex spreadsheet, it finally felt right. Here it is, the cream of the crop. I hope you love these albums as much as I do.

20. The Decemberists – Picaresque
With their most expressive and realized album yet, The Decemberists sang novellas, and Colin Meloy has earned himself a throne directly to the right of Stuart Murdoch as indie rock’s Nerd Prince. “I am a writer, writer of fictions,” he sings on “The Engine Driver.” While this is the case, he is a songwriter first, and he always allows room in his narratives for heart, soul, or whatever you want to call that certain something that make songs actually mean something to you.

19. John Vanderslice – Pixel Revolt
Vanderslice enlisted friend John Darnielle to edit and improve upon his lyrics, and what resulted was one of the biggest improvements in songwriting quality this year. There are many different stories here, but the album centers on four songs that deal with 9/11’s aftermath, including a man on a cell phone watching the second plane hit and a reporter being held captive. These songs leave you breathless, as it puts such an intimate spin on the stories that we half ignore on the news everyday. One theme through all of these songs is escape, whether it is a move out of town or a lover. The music and production of the album are almost beside the point, as they are both nearly perfect, which is to be expected since Vanderslice is becoming a hot item in the producer’s chair. Alternately smooth, serene, and bouncy, the music provides a fitting backdrop to Pixel Revolt’s endearing stories.

18. Bell Orchestre – Recording a Tape the Colour of Night
Guitars, xylophones, fiddles, and trumpets coexist on the debut from this Canadian post-rock ensemble. The obvious draw to this band is that it shares members with The Arcade Fire, but that is where the similarities end. Full of glorious melodies, pitch-perfect call and response pieces, and controlled bombast, Recording a Tape never loses itself in experimentation, and charms after repeated listens.

17. Animal Collective – Feels
On the follow-up to 2004’s excellent Sung Tongs, Animal Collective take an important, albeit small, dive into structured songwriting. What results is their best album to date as well as their most accessible. “Grass” is the best song they’ve ever written, and the sea of guitars and ultimate redemption of “Banshee Beat” prove that a certain level of conformity fit these boys. The weirdness of earlier recordings was nice, but now that they have met us halfway, they’ve established themselves as one of indie rock’s most innovative bands.

16. Vitalic – OK Cowboy
OK Cowboy has found itself in some pretty elite company, as far as I’m concerned, joining Daft Punk’s Discovery and The Chemical Brothers' Exit Planet Dust as the only techno albums I can listen to in its entirety without wanting to skip to the best tracks. Pascal Arbez assembles his dance floor staples from the Poney EP alongside tons of new tracks in what amounts to everything that Human After All should have been but never was. As fast as you wanna move, as loud as you like your buzzsaw synths, Arbez is more than happy to oblige. This is as much fun you’ll have all year while sitting at home, wishing American “discos” were cool enough to play this shit.

15. Spoon – Gimme Fiction
I recently had a conversation with someone about what makes a band a “rock” band. What exactly constitutes “rock” band, we couldn’t agree, but the one tentative agreement we reached is that Spoon is the best rock band on Earth. They are unbelievably consistent, and they embody everything rock, with no subgenre. If you try to pigeonhole them, they will morph into something totally unexpected, which is what happened with Gimme Fiction. Britt Daniel wrote 11 songs that were stripped down, barebones rockers, and it sounds like the most lively Spoon record yet. While “I Turn My Camera On,” “I Summon You,” and “Sister Jack” all fight for the album's spotlight, it’s songs like “Two Sides/ Monsieur Valentine” and “My Mathematical Mind” that fill in the cracks and create a consistently chiseled aesthetic.

14. Andrew Bird – Andrew Bird and the Mysterious Production of Eggs
This one, you can take your pick: do you listen to the perfectly crafted pop instrumentation, or try decipher the decidedly gloomy stream of consciousness lyrics? I choose the whistling. Yep, Bird’s a “Professional Whistler” and he uses it sparingly, but to stunning effect. Also prevalent is his main instrument, the violin. He never writes pieces for the violin, but it serves as an excellent tool in his lush compositions. He also loves language, and often entangles the listener with complex and devastating imagery, such as on “Fake Palindromes” where he proclaims “She’s got blood in her eyes for you.” Easily one of the most dynamic albums on this list, and one which I will still be finding new aspects a year from now.

13. Caribou – The Milk of Human Kindness
Dan Snaith is lucky he was sued and forced into an alias change from Manitoba to Caribou, because this album fits in with his previous output the way Eminem fits in at a chess club meeting. The Milk of Human Kindness is faster and flashier than Up In Flames, and its intelligence doesn’t lie in traditional channels. There are still songs that swirl with psychedelia, such as opener “Yeti” and “Hello Hammerheads,” but it is punctuated with brief compositional explosions of drums and rhythmic melodies. This album showcases all the ways IDM can produce some of the most exciting music today.

12. The Mountain Goats – The Sunset Tree
Pundits be damned, with your “production values” this and “story arcs” that. Goddamn it, this is John Darnielle we’re talking about. On a deeply personal collection of songs, Darnielle’s skill with the quill is as sharp as ever, as he perfectly captures the solipsistic importance of teenage affairs. Whether he’s a teenage drunk worrying about his stepfather on “This Year” or escaping from his parents’ fights through the power of music in “Dance Music,” he presents the events as matter of fact and full of honest emotion and reaction, without ever sounding maudlin. In fact, only a mature adult with the songwriting gifts Darnielle possesses could create a record so complicated in feeling. The record’s overwhelming feel is summed up best on “Up the Wolves,” where he proclaims, “There is bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet/ No matter where you live/ There’ll always be a few things, maybe several things/ That you’re gonna find really difficult to forgive.”

11. M83 – Before the Dawn Heals Us
Moments of pure ecstasy and horror abound on this album, as perfectly crafted pop-shoegaze is laced with campy high drama and guitar grandeur. The concept was unattainable from the start, but M83 succeeded in creating a breathtaking failure. You can be crushed under the weight of “Moonchild,” pummeled with brute force by “Don’t Save Us From the Flames,” and finally be comforted by “A Guitar and A Heart.” If you can ignore the goofy voice acting tracks, you’ve found the most physically demanding (and rewarding) record of the year.

10. Cloud Cult – Advice from the Happy Hippopotamus
Craig Minowa is a hippie. Living on wind power and thermal heat while growing all foods organically, you can’t really say much else about him. What makes his music so stunning is that his politics and practices rarely, if ever, make it into his music; it's just his way of life. Absent from Happy Hippopotamus are decidedly dirty-hair tendencies of psychedelia, insufferably wimpy acoustic harmonizing, and terribly juvenile du jour politics. Instead, we get healthy doses of samples and classic indie rock moments all spewed over hip hop influenced rhythms. Minowa, a survivor of two unspeakable losses a few years back, composes strikingly intelligent lyrics in which to figure out what it all means, from unrequited love to the death of a child.

09. Sufjan Stevens – Illinois
All hail, the reigning king of indie rock geography and spirituality. I’d never have thought this album would be such a success, especially after the nearly unbeatable Welcome to Michigan! But here, he takes all of his endearing quirks and insightful, storytelling lyrics, and turns the knob to 11. It’s bigger, louder, cozier, quieter, and much more personal than Michigan. Stevens is still not preaching to us, but rather taking his knowledge of spirituality to illuminate our souls, our darkest secrets, and our ultimate joys. At 22 tracks and with a pretensiously long tracklist, this album is actually too much of a good thing.

08. Edan – Beauty and the Beat
How this album flew under the radar all year is beyond me. What you have here is one of hip hop’s brightest talents, spitting some of the year’s hottest fire over hot and cold psychedelic beats, big enough to crush a house. With stellar guest spots by Percee P and Mr. Lif, among others, Edan created an indie hop classic. It’s just a shame that it’ll take a few years for everyone to realize it.

07. The New Pornographers – Twin Cinema
Apparently Carl Newman can do no wrong. Every album that has his name on it is better than the last; each song, almost in sequence, shows a greater depth in talent. The Pornographers' most subtle album is also their best, as their trademark quirk rock shares the spotlight with some acoustic numbers and a few mini epics. “Sing Me Spanish Techno” represents the former, with huge guitar crunches and idiosyncratic lyrics, while songs such as “The Bleeding Heart Show” mark a new, versatile approach not seen before.

06. Bright Eyes – I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning
In all honesty, I never got around to listening to the other Bright Eyes album released at the same time. I didn’t want to ruin this new view of Conor Oberst that this record provides. Gone are the emotional outbursts and juvenile sentimentality that populated his earlier releases. Oberst has finally grown up, and on this country-folk epic, he finds his strengths, ditches his emo tendencies and tones it all down to create his masterpiece. He also widens his range as a songwriter, as he tackles societal and political protest content with startling success. It never sounds trite or phoned in, especially on “Landlocked Blues.” What we get is insightful, deeply personal lyricism. All of this seems like perfect timing for Oberst, as he releases the best quality of his career right on the verge of superstardom.

05. Sage Francis – A Healthy Distrust
Speaking of political protest, no one is more scathing and incendiary than Sage Francis. Socially conscious lyrics abound on A Healthy Distrust, such as, “The rich get richer ‘til the poor get educated,” and, more terrifically, “I Freedom kiss the French for their political dissent like muah!” This album isn’t all about dissention from the government, however, as Sage turns the camera on himself a la Personal Journals, and creates stark soundscapes of personal torment. His flow is better than ever, as he’s harnessed it to more adequately stay in the comfy confines of the terrific beats by Dangermouse, Sixtoo, and others. This album is a man on fire, in more ways than one.

04. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah – Clap Your Hands Say Yeah
There's been alot of ink spilled over the merits of CYHSY. Here's the deal: This was some of the most fun you'll have listening to music this year. Clap Your Hands has elements of every indie rock band you've ever liked, from Modest Mouse to Talking Heads to Neutral Milk Hotel, and the band wrap it in a neat package that sounds totally fresh. "Let the Cool Goddess Rust Away" has wonderfully bouncy vocals over classic indie guitar strumming and the bassline of the year. "The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth" is even bouncier, as the beat propels one of the most overtly happy sounding indie tunes of the year. Elsewhere, the disc runs the gamut of indie greatness, and while the vocals may be a bit of an acquired taste, they are worth acquiring. Plus, you got a feel good story of a band without a label or distro deal making it big. If that doesn't make your cold heart turn all fuzzy in the face of the imperial music industry, I don't know what will.

03. Okkervil River – Black Sheep Boy
As literate and disturbingly solid as an album can get, Black Sheep Boy's world is filled with monsters, both human and non-human. This is a folk-rock opus, as Okkervil River deftly blends all the hallmarks of a masterpiece: colorful narrative, pure emotions, pure fear, excellent production, and the build and release of tension at all the crucial junctures. Much has been written about Will Sheff's amazing abilities as a songwriter, even on this site, but what makes this album so immediately gripping is all of the elements coming together to create a unified mood. Sheff shrieks and croons through the whole record, which is made beautiful by the stabbing guitars, precision drumming, rolling piano and beautiful bursts of orchestration. Truly, this is one of rock's classic concept pieces.

02. Sam Prekop – Who’s Your New Professor
I can't think of one social, essential, blah blah blah reason why Who's Your New Professor made it all the way to #2 on my list. What it comes down to is Sam Prekop has been making some of the most beautiful and honest music over the last decade and a half, and I just kept returning to this album all year long. At his best, he creates understated, sweeping masterpieces of music genius, and that is all this album consists of. He adds new dynamics as he deems necessary, as evidenced by his perfect assimilation of bossa nova and a gentle glaze of electronics. He doesn't bow to new trends or rely on extraordinary wit or ego, and the last damn thing he's concerned with is cred. Exactly how refreshing this is, I don't need to relate, and this album mirrors this sentiment perfectly.

01. Wolf Parade – Apologies to the Queen Mary
"Produced by Isaac Brock." "Loose ties to The Arcade Fire and Frog Eyes." "Montreal Scene." "Begrudged indie heroes." Reading about Wolf Parade at year's end is like reading a list of excuses as to why they aren't #1. What we have here is critical knee-jerk reaction against hype; buy into it, then reject it. Fuck that noise. Sure it shares aspects with their influences, but that's what the best bands do; they build on their influences and ameliorate them with their own artistic vision. Whether critics laud this or detract because of it, well, that just comes down to personal motivations. Apologies to the Queen Mary was the most excitingly dense release of the year. Filled with images of utopias, ghosts, and technology, Wolf Parade create a less cerebral, more personal yet proletariat OK Computer. Dan Boeckner and Spencer Krug toss singing duties back and forth, but the album sounds like a total group effort; everyone's input was key. Each song has its own vibe, yet the album is woven together almost subconsciously by a force not yet defined. Ok Canada, you can stop now. You've proven your indie superiority. And my apologies to you, Wolf Parade, for all of the rhetoric and hype-baiting that kept you out of your rightful position as heir to The Arcade Fire's throne. Here is your much deserved seat atop the music world of 2005.

Jesse's Top 20 Songs of 2005

2005-12-15T20:43:00.000-05:00

Well, it was a hell of a year for the single. But, this isn't a singles list. That's the only reason you aren't going to find "Trapped in the Closet" listed below. The following songs are what I consider to be the best songs, period, of the year (and yes, a few singles are included). Whether they posses jaw-dropping beauty or just rocked my ass all year long, these songs have colored most of my memories for 2005.

20. Silver Jews - "Punks in the Beerlight"
Kicking off the list is one of the best album openers of the year. This track rocks harder than anything I've yet heard from Dave Berman, and the lyrics and delivery are phenomenal. The line, "I love you to the max" had my fists pumping, and the call and response between Berman and his wife is great commentary of recovering drug addiction. Her: "If it gets really, really bad/ If it ever gets really, really bad..." Him: "Let's not kid ourselves/ It gets really, really bad."

19. Andrew Bird - "Masterfade"
With wonderfully absurdist philosophical lyrics, Andrew Bird created one of the most beautifully weird songs of the year. Not only does he win the prize for best vocal delivery on the lines, "If we're all matter/ What does it matter when we're gone?/ When the sky is full of zeroes and ones," he follows it up with the best whistle solo (I'm not kidding) I've ever heard.

18. Caribou - "Pelican Narrows"
As far as instrumentals went this year, nothing beat this track. The hip hop style boom bap and scattershot drumming is perfectly offset by the sweetest of melodies and hazy atmospherics. This song is perfect for soundtracking just about everything, from late night driving to running across campus in a rainstorm.

17. Kanye West - "Gold Digger"
Alright, I have a lot of problems with Kanye West (mostly his same-word rhymes and bizarrely childish delivery). Thankfully, he harnessed most of this on this track, and as always, the beat is spectacular. "Gold Digger" was this year's "Hey Ya," only not nearly as revelatory. Or undeniable.

16. The Cloud Room - "Hey Now Now"
This song is evidence that a totally mediocre band is capable of writing truly excellent songs. For more evidence, see Ambulance Ltd.'s "Stay Where You Are." This song accompanied me on countless city bus rides to school, even though I knew that where I was headed was nowhere near as glorious as their destination.

15. Animal Collective - "Grass"
I have been waiting for this one. This is the most down to earth song you're likely to hear from this band, and it still sounds unlike anything you've ever heard. It starts out normal enough, then comes the shrieking in the chorus, and the bridge featuring vocals influenced by hillbilly mountain jigs and you're reminded that oh yeah, you are listening to Animal Collective. This song is proof that they are one of the most inventive bands around.

14. Trick Daddy ft. Ludacris and Cee-Lo - "Sugar (Gimme Some)"
Trick Daddy Dolla's place in my heart grows with every song he releases. Here, Luda once again proves that he is the best guest rapper in existence, and Cee-Lo provides yet another soulful, beautifully executed hook. Christ, do you remember pre-crunk southern rap? This is what the Dirty South is supposed to sound like.

13. Edan ft. Percee P - "Torture Chamber"
AAHHHHH!!! Who the fuck is Percee P? Oh, who gives a damn. The first time I listened to his verse in this joint, my face melted. The flows he puts down are fearless. Verbal acrobatics at its finest. The kicker? Edan follows Percee's verse... and blows him away.

12. The Decemberists - "The Engine Driver"
The standout track on the uneven (to me, at least) Picaresque, "The Engine Driver" exemplifies everything great about The Decemberists. They tone down their sometimes ridiculous theatrical bent and record a heartbreakingly simple song. It's literate, sure, but you don't need a Master's in English to appreciate lines like, "If you don't love me, let me go."

11. Bright Eyes- "First Day of My Life"
Easily the smartest, best, and most endearing love song this year, Manchild Conor Oberst really hit the nail on the head with this one. He's apparently outgrown his youthful over-emoting, and his new batch of songs greatly benefit from a much more controlled Oberst. His account of love isn't overly romanticized and it isn't a vision of Happily-Ever-After optimism. Sure, he's smitten, but he knows reality isn't perfect, and a relationship requires more than just love. "So if you wanna be with me/ With these things there's no telling/ We just have to wait and see/ But I'd rather be working for a paycheck/ Than waiting to win the lottery." Indeed.

10. Sam Prekop - "C & F"
This is a deceptively simple song. Distracted by the gently strummed guitars and easy pace that has become Prekop's trademark, it is easy to miss the lively instrumentation that bubbles right below the surface. Handclaps, a trumpet, two or three guitar progressions, and a dusting of electronics all make this song spectacular, and each element is strong enough to carry an entire song on its own.

09. The New Pornographers - "The Bleeding Heart Show"
"The Bleeding Heart Show" is the centerpiece of an album consisting entirely of standout tracks. There are at least five distinct sections to this song, as it continually builds from subtle beginnings to the joyous climax. Each new section adds on to the previous one, and it is the most versatile song A.C. Newman has ever written, and easily one of his best. This is really saying something, considering Newman's past achievements.

08. Okkervil River - "For Real"
While Black Sheep Boy is best heard as a whole, this song stands easily on its own. Involving unsettling imagery, "For Real" is one of the most intelligent songs released this year. It revolves mostly around repetition of the word "real," and the versatility achieved in its meaning is excellent. Will Sheff shrieks and sings as if his life depended on it, and the music builds and builds, as Sheff and Co. can create tension with the best of them.

07. Sage Francis - "Gunz Yo"
Todd was right in his list of live shows, Sage gets better and better. Here, he is at his best, as he documents the paranoia-infused life of a gun culture junkie. Over extraordinary beats provided by Dangermouse, Sage stays true to the theme with more analogies and metaphors than most can dream of, while never letting the message overtake his flow; "I've got more back issues than Guns n' Ammo/ Cuz my uzi weighs a ton and I never let go of the handle."

06. Spoon - "I Turn My Camera On"
Britt Daniel can do more with a skeleton of a song than most people can with all the instruments in the world at their disposal. Who knew he was a Blue-Eyed Soul genius? There was nothing more surprising this year than this song. Play it at a large gathering of the most casual of music listeners: everyone grows quiet; everyone's head starts bobbing. I've seen it happen.

05. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah - "The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth"
In what was possibly the best indie dancefloor track of the year, CYHSY display every aspect of their burgeoning brilliance. They are in part every indie rock band you've ever liked, and the other part is something inexplicable, but something great. The vocals bounce playfully over that four on the floor beat as the guitars swirl around each other playfully. Think of it as Modest Mouse meets dancepunk, but better than the sum of its parts.

04. Wolf Parade - "Dear Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts"
It's easy to reference Modest Mouse again for "Sons and Daughters," since Isaac Brock manned the boards for this one. With lyrics like, "I would say it's in God's hands/ But God doesn't always have the best goddamn plans, does he?" Brock's influence is hard to ignore. Sometimes it seems like any song from Apologies to the Queen Mary could have filled this spot, but this song is an all around success; the vocal performance is spot on and the music captures the lyric's mood perfectly. It sounds inexplicably familiar, yet totally new.

03. Sufjan Stevens - "John Wayne Gacy, Jr."
Stevens wrote a song so painfully beautiful, so disturbing yet so perfectly executed, I can't help but feel conflicted as to why I enjoy it so much. One thing was for sure, I couldn't stop listening. His account of the horrible things Gacy did is unsettling, sure, but he presents the subject matter as undeniably human instead of egregiously monstrous, and with the utmost respect for the victims. And if you don't well up when he hits that high note at the end of the line, "Even more, they were boys/ With their cars/ Summer jobs/ Oh my god," I don't believe you have a heart.

02. M83 - "Don't Save Us From the Flames"
M83 have a flair for the dramatic, most definitely. The second song on Before the Dawn Heals Us, "Don't Save Us From the Flames" begins with bombastic drums and explodes into synths and guitars that can only be described as rapturous. The drums explode again, and everything is pulled back, save a lone distorted piano effect, and the voice..."Out...of ze flames..." This is French-shoegaze-pop-dreamcore at its finest. The joyous music is undercut by disturbing images of car crashes, exposed brains, and fires, and you realize only then that this is frenzied panic in its purest sonic form. Oh, and I'm sure this song about a horrible car wreck sold more than a few Pontiacs.

01. The Mountain Goats - "This Year"
Arguably the best songwriter of our time, John Darnielle's last couple albums have shifted focus from his character study mini-epics to much more personal territory, and not one bit of his talent has been lost. Nothing displays his abilities better than "This Year," as he delves into his own life as a 17 year old. He has a penchant for making the mundane seem grand, and true to the psyche of a teenager, every moment described here drips with solipsism, every event is absolutely important. Only Darnielle can make an alcoholic teenager playing video games with his girlfriend a stepping stone for universal truths. Yeah, things are bad, but he finds the good parts, and filled with youthful optimism, he declares, "I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me." This isn't empty sloganeering, either; Darnielle's misspent youth epic is filled with conviction. Even at the end, when he declares, "There will be feasting and dancing in Jerusalem next year," I'll be damned if he doesn't have us all convinced.

Anyone who wants a pretty mix CD of this list, feel free to email me with your address, and its yours. vanguard9@hotmail.com.

Todd's Top Ten Live Sets of 2005

2005-12-12T21:08:00.000-05:00

Let me start by apologizing to my girlfriend. Despite her protests, Mars Volta did not make it to this year's top ten. Perhaps they could have snuck into my top 15, but alas, this is my top ten. So here's to you, 2005. You rocked my ass!

Honorable Mentions: (Top 10 was just too damn, difficult.)
Nine Inch Nails - Coachella Music and Arts Festival, Indio, CA
Mars Volta - Office Depot Center, Sunrise, FL
Common - Mansion, Miami FL
The Evens - Sweat Records, Miami, FL
Kanye West - University of Miami, Miami, FL

10. Immortal Technique - Coachella Music and Arts Festival, Indio, CA
When you talk about revolutionary, political rap, Dead Prez is the first name that comes to mind. But please, don't sleep on Immortal Technique. His set was engaging, thought-provoking and inspiring. He commanded the crowd to use our brains and dared us to question our government and society. He ran through dozens of songs, spitting fire and dropping knowledge. He also dropped a couple of a-capelas and freestyles for good measure.

9. Regina Spektor - Revolution, Ft. Lauderdale, FL
I actually paid for Keane tickets to go see Regina open. Whatever, it was worth it.

8. M.I.A. - I/O, Miami, FL
Due to the popularity of, Arular, this show was the place to be. The hipsters came out in force to see the Sri Lankan native tear it up. Along with guest vocalist, Cherry, M.I.A. played nearly every track off her album while the crowd danced it up on the outdoor patio. What made the performance downright magical was when it unexpectedly started to drizzle during "Sunshowers." Talk about a surreal experience.

7. De La Soul - Mansion, Miami, FL
As one of the originators of hip-hop's "conscious" movement, De La's reputation is enormous. But the fact that they put on one of the most exciting live performances of all time brings their respect level to unmatched heights. They have mastered the art of crowd participation and keep it interesting the whole way through, which is a difficult thing to do, in my opinion, when it comes to hip-hop shows. The crowd went bananas when Native Tongue sibling Dres of Black Sheep came out for the classic anthem "The Choice is Yours."

6. Black Star - Coachella Music and Arts Festival, Indio, CA
Seeing Black Star perform live was easily my biggest motivation for making the trip out to Coachella for the second year in a row. Kweli's voice was less than healthy, but it didn't distract from his superiority as one of conscious rap's most eloquent emcees. Mos Def got the crowd hyped as he wild'd out up and down the center aisle. And to make the show complete, Common graced the crowd in a surprise appearance (which I called, by the way) for "Respiration." That was something I thought I would never get to witness. Great music, atmosphere and friends made this set more than memorable.

5. Wilco - Pompano Beach Amphitheater, Pompano Beach, FL
Wilco was high on my list of bands to see, especially since they dropped off of Coachella 2004. They rocked out for over 2 hours with basically, 3 sets. The crowd started out seated, but after Jeff Tweedy egged us on to defiantly rush the stage, things got lively as hell. The set spanned their entire discography with healthy doses of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, making it a satisfying performance. All non-believers were converted to hardcore fans after this show.

4. Built to Spill - Mr. Smalls Theater, Pittsburgh, PA
I heart Doug Martsch. I really do. Why else would I drive 250 miles through Amish country with my girlfriend while vacationing in Baltimore? After seeing Built to Spill in Atlanta, I was skeptical that they could pull off a show of equal caliber. Whether or not the Pittsburgh show was better then the Atlanta show, I'm still not sure, but it did impress me. The venue was a beautiful, gothic hall with high-ceilings and excellent acoustics, and we met some new friends. Plus, as always, Doug's choice of covers was impeccable. He ended with George Harrison's classic, "While My Guitar Gently Weeps."

3. Dungen - Siren Music Festival, Coney Island, NY
Dungen is playing in the states? It's in NYC? It's FREE? What!? I'm there. This one was a no-brainer for me. Even though I foolishly missed the first few songs so that I could feed my growling stomach with an authentic Coney Island Nathan's hotdog (which I never got), I can tell you that Gustav Ejstes equals Swedish psychedelic folk rock goodness. He played a handful of instruments, including the flute, and recklessly swung is curly mane through the air like it was 1969 and someone had dosed the crowd with electric Kool-aid.

2. Sage Francis - Coachella Music and Arts Festival, Indio, CA
Seeing him for the third time, I have come to realize that Sage Francis only gets better. After releasing his most mature and compelling album to date, which was not an easy task, I was stoked to see him again. The escalating excitement level boiled over when he came out with Orlando's own Sol.ill.iquists of Sound to back him up. Sage kicked out the jams, Buddhist monk style, with no shortage of crowd-pleasing banter. He played virtually ever song I wanted to hear under the Indio moonlight. Then, the Hendrix-esque MPC version of the Star Spangled banner blew my mind.

1. The Arcade Fire - Coachella Music and Arts Festival, Indio, CA
No question on this one. For once, a band actually lives up to the hype both on record, and live. Funeral was without a doubt the most talked about album of 2004, and with damn good reason. If anyone needed any more convincing of that, all you had to do was go to Coachella 2005 and stand within a half-mile radius of their stage for an hour and a half before their scheduled set time. People were flocking. Just to put it in perspective: I missed Gang of Four's set, with the exception of their first song (just to say I saw them live, of course) just so I could secure a good spot. The Arcade Fire came out with the most humble of attitudes, and even set up their own gear. They then proceeded to awe the crowd with exploding enthusiasm and rowdy onstage hi jinx. Dude, they were climbing the scaffolding.

Jesse's Top Five Live! 2005

2005-12-10T07:50:00.000-05:00

I can feel myself getting older. I've grown ever fonder of quiet alone time over the last couple of years, thus favoring private listens of my favorite albums over the sweaty, smoky, packed local indie dives, so I haven't seen as much live music as I'd like. But that doesn't mean that I don't still get all hot and bothered when a band I love comes strolling my way (which isn't that often, considering I live in Florida). Here are my Top 5 live acts of the past year. Nothing, however, will EVER top Built to Spill in Atlanta a few years back, when they launched into a perfect 8 minute rendition of "Free Bird," and the Playhouse went bonkers. And no, there was not one trace of irony.

5. Sol-ILLaquists of Sound - The Social, Orlando, FL
Halfway through their set, S.o.S. launched into a tirade about the lack of support for the abundance of talent in the local Orlando hip hop scene. If this group is any indication of said talent, they have a damn fine point. Mixing R&B, hip hop, jungle, and drum n' bass, this quartet absolutely smoked when opening for Sage Francis' knowmore.org tour. There's no doubt why picked this group as his backing band. Absolutely jaw dropping performance.

4. Ted Leo/Pharmacists - The Social, Orlando, FL
Ted Leo is a perennial favorite on my list of best shows. The first time I ever saw him, he opened for Dismemberment Plan and totally dwarfed them (this is saying a lot, as The Plan put on an excellent show themselves). I could have left right after his set and driven back to Gainesville totally satisfied. This time we got lucky. After Shake the Sheets didn't live up to his usual standards, he said fuck it and played all of the best, most energetic songs of his more superior albums, and only dabbled in the new one. And no, he didn't play his version of "Since U Been Gone."

3. Talib Kweli - Common Grounds, Gainesville, FL
Breakdancers! Breakdancers everywhere! Put on by the University of Florida's Hip Hop Collective, this was the first in a series of live show benefits that never was. The opening acts were excellent (locals Cyne and Dirty Digits), and when Kweli came on, he didn't just blow off the night like community service (why was he playing this shit dive again?); he brought all his best jams, freestyles, and flows.

2. Sage Francis - Coachella, Indio, CA
Well, I've already written a blurb about this one in my live review of his Orlando show. More than adequately backed by S.o.S., Sage unleashed hell. The stage antics were flawless, as was his flow. Hell, he even challenged Weezer (who was playing on a competing stage) and I saw people leaving Weezer! People that still like Weezer! Obviously, Sage has one of the most engaging live hip hop shows I've seen for some time. To top it all off, the show ended with a sythesizer version of "The Star-Spangled Banner" a la Jimi Hendrix.

1. The Arcade Fire - Coachella, Indio, CA
I'd heard the stories. I've heard epics about their live show. Usually, it's described as a sort of "religious experience." I chalked it up to exaggeration. But I'll be damned if it wasn't close. I couldn't imagine the vibe if this were in a club setting. Thousands waited patiently before they took the stage because of technical difficulties, and by the end of their set the crowd seemed to have doubled. Climbing rafters, trading instruments, wearing motorcycle helmets so they could beat on each other, and ill-advised stage dives seem anything but unnatural to this group. It was the physical incarnation of pure joy. If it is even possible, I walked away with an even greater appreciation for their amazing debut album.

The Close Calls:
Blackstar - Coachella, Indio, CA
How long have I waited to see this? Too long. Common was there, and they played so long, they literaly pulled the plug on the Mighty Mos.

Against Me! - Common Grounds, Gainesville, FL
On the verge of (relative) super-stardom, they were all ours for one last time.

M83 - Coachella, Indio, CA
I almost rioted when I found out they weren't playing as the sun set. Whatever. The beautiful shoegaze drone perfectly matched the hazy midday swelter. Sexiest band alive.

Okkervil River/Rilo Kiley - The House of Blues, Orlando, FL
I wasn't particularly keen on seeing Rilo Kiley since they only have one album I really like. I came to see Okkervil River. They both put on amazing shows, though.

Review: Thanksgiving

2005-12-07T11:51:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving - Thanksgiving
Marriage
Released: December 6, 2005
Rating: C

Thanksgiving is a lo-fi folk project by longtime Phil Elverum associate Adrian Orange. On his latest self-titled 3xLP, he divides twenty-four songs into three parts, each following open ended themes, and each represented by colors (red, white, and blue, obviously).

Most of the highlights of the album are on "Part 1: Fuck the World." "Dead Deer and Other Animals" is the most exciting song here, with unexpectedly upbeat and sloppy handclaps and a strong melody. The production on "In the Woods" crackles and hisses as it simulates rainfall. Otherwise, you pretty much know what to expect from an album described as "lo-fi folk." There's plenty of tape hiss, quiet acoustic guitars and reticent vocals. The best moments of this album are when the listener is treated to unexpected bursts of energy, such as on Part 3: "Welcome Home Human's" opener "Welcome Nowhere," as the song suddenly explodes from lo-fi folk into...umm... lo-fi rock. Also a nice change of pace is the piano that is present mostly on Part 2: "I Am Yours."

One of the main criticisms of Adrian Orange is that he sounds too much like Phil Elverum, and Thanksgiving doesn't do much to disprove the detractors. There is the same ambling, loose pace, the same crackles and fuzzy production, and the same vocal quirks. However, Orange makes a strong case here that he is by far the better lyricist. "In the Woods" is the best example of this: "If the world doesn't want us/ We can find a place that does... There's no bars to squeeze and scream/ In the woods/ Let's go/ To the future we remember... And let's die running if we're enslaved." He also proves in "You Don't Know Me" that he is deft at wordplay with lines like "Do you know where I come from?/ No, you don't/ And why should you?/ How could you?/ I won't even try to tell you/ But, oh, I'm so alone" and later, "Oh we are fucked/ We are fucked up/ We are fucked down and fucked around." While this might not sound extraordinary in print, he delivers it flawlessly and it feels like a revelation, that yes, we know exactly where you are from, and there's no need to explain.

Thanksgiving predictably suffers from being so long. There are great songs here, but there are too many lulls that last too long in between the standout songs. There's enough strong material here for a standard length album, but at over an hour and fifteen minutes, the album is drags more than it should.

buy it at insound!

Review: The Darkness

2005-11-30T21:12:00.000-05:00

The Darkness - One Way Ticket to Hell... and Back
Atlantic
Released: November 29, 2005
Rating: D

Oh, irony. Are we taking ourselves too seriously in not taking anything too seriously? We show our love to our favorite bands not by dancing, but by standing perfectly still, arms crossed wearing a too-hip-for-thee scowl, analyzing every movement the band makes, hoping someone doesn't bump into us. The funniest thing that can happen is a band like The Darkness release an album. With fashion sense that is so uncool it's kinda cool and with riffs so cockrockin' you can't brood, they are a Bright Eyes fan's worst nightmare. We can't stand the fact that they actually may be SERIOUS about their Scorpions/Boston/Queen hair metal. It has to be ironic rocking out, right? Why don't they wear Weezer-glasses too offset all of those power chords?

Another thing is, at least for me, how am I supposed to approach this album with a critical eye? I actually think that The Darkness are sincere and aren't taking us all for the proverbial "ride." All of the hair metal acts that The Darkness ape weren't given much critical consideration 20 or 25 years ago, so why do we insist on doing it now? This music isn't for thinking. Regardless, I'll proceed, yet with much different standards than I normally employ. Just one thing: The Darkness will never again write a song as good as "I Believe in a Thing Called Love." It would be unfair to think that they would or even could. It is one of the best pop-rock songs ever, and sits nicely alongside such classic bretheren as "More Than a Feeling" by Boston or "Just What I Needed" by The Cars. Nothing on their first album came close, and the same goes for One Way Ticket to Hell... and Back, but I can't hold that against them.

This album isn't very good. First off, this album starts off with over a minute of pan-flute and what appears to be a mild case of the sniffles before anything of substance kicks in. Strike one. But, the song that follows, "One Way Ticket," is one of two really strong songs on the album (this one HAS to be the single). The chorus actually has the exact same bassline as "I Believe in a Thing Called Love" and you could swear that you mistakenly put in Best of the 80s: Hair Metal album. The only other kickass song is "Hazel Eyes," for which i'll dub the sub-subgenre Irish-jig-hair-glam-metal. The guitars are relentless, the solo is hot, and Justin Hawkin's voice sounds totally fab with all of the "ahhs" during the chorus. Everything else on the album falls between simply ignorable and total cheese, exactly like their biggest influences. So perhaps this record is a success after all.

The rest of the songs are simply underwhelming. "Knockers" and "Bald" are decent and "English Country Garden" has great axe wielding, but everything else about it falls flat. There is way too much multi-tracking of the vocals as the band try to sound more and more like Queen and less like Poison (it doesn't work). Most songs merely limp along without any kick at all. The Darkness also slow it down on "Seemed Like a Good Idea At the Time" and "Blind Man," the former sounding too close to terrible power ballads of yore and the latter sounding not at all close enough to Queen.

This album has way too much earnestness on it, which does not suit The Darkness at all. I know they aren't Andrew WK, but what was so winning about Permission to Land was that it was FUN. And what's up with all the lyrics about hair? Guys, you're trying to dispel the idea that you're nothing more than novelty hacks. While I still don't believe that is true, they haven't helped their case with One Way Ticket.

So, indie kids of the world, it's over. You don't have to pretend to like The Darkness anymore. Just leave them to the late thirtysomethings of the world still driving IROCs. At least they know how to truly appreciate arena rock, with no irony attached.

buy it from insound!

Review: Okkervil River

2005-11-29T00:46:00.000-05:00

Okkervil River - Black Sheep Boy Appendix EP
Jagjaguwar
Released: November 22, 2005
Rating: A

I don't think another band or artist (with the possible exception of Sir Sufjan) has had a better year than Okkervil River. First, under relative obscurity, they released Black Sheep Boy, an amazing album that saw this Austin outfit at their true potential. Following the release came supporting slots for The Decemberists and Rilo Kiley. Through the strength of these opening dates and the absolutely confident and brilliant songwriting abilities of Will Sheff, Okkervil River became one of the indie world's new favorite bands. To top off their breakthrough year, they unleash upon us Black Sheep Boy Appendix, an EP that reinforces the themes of the LP and only strengthens the argument of Sheff being one of modern rock's truly gifted tunesmiths.

The concept of Black Sheep Boy has been well documented. After hearing the late Tim Hardin song of the same name, Sheff conceived an album that builds on the theme; the no-good son, struggling in the face of worldly crises and abusive relationships who ultimately finds redemption. What we get from Appendix is more of the same. Sheff still oversings, still sounds like he's on the brink of cracking, and the band still alternates between slow, country funeral ballads and rollicking pop songs that are undercut by their often unsettling imagery.

Okkervil River uses repetition in their arrangements to great effect, as several melodies and images are recycled and cast in a totally different light. There are several recurring images in the lyrics, most notably missing children, gardens, and the central character, the Black Sheep Boy. Sheff remains one of the most literary and scholarly yet sincere lyricists around (and much less annoying than Colin Meloy). He uses words not only to convey a narrative; he utilizes literary techniques such as alliteration and repetition of phrases for rhythm and continuity. The opener, "Missing Children" is mirrored twice on the album. "A Garden" is a brief instrumental interlude which strips down its melody and creates a much more isolated feel; Okkervil River narrow their scope from the plight of all of the children, focusing in on that of the titular character. The last song on the EP, "Last Love Song For Now," features the same vocal delivery and lyrical structure, but instead of the melancholy strings of "Missing Children," this is a full band outing.

"In a Radio Song," a track from Black Sheep Boy LP, is also revisited twice here. "A Forest" recycles the melody, but uses a xylophone rather than an acoustic guitar and "Another Radio Song" is a response to its namesake. The latter song contains all of the characteristics that make Okkervil River such a well-rounded band. Softly creaking vocals over a simple guitar progression transform into desperate and nearly hysterical pleas over a rolling rhythm section and crunched guitars. Sheff's poetics shine here as well, as the vocals rhythmically bounce in a laundry list of the main themes and literary devices: "We have fallen from tall buildings/ We have fallen through the air/ Into a garden/ Softly smelling of the softest sleeping flowers/ Now they sit under the sidewalk...But Black Sheep Boy/ With your lovers/ With your list of favorite pillars/ Rid your list of missing children/ With the wall where you drew it up/ Overlooking hidden gardens."

The thing that is most endearing about Okkervil River is that they sound like they are on the verge of collapse. In a world as treacherous as that of the Black Sheep Boy, everything can fall into shambles in the blink of an eye, but every note played and every word sang is done so with heartfelt consideration. The band faces this material with aplomb, as they seemingly keep it all from falling apart with nothing but their conviction.

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Review: Talib Kweli

2005-11-22T21:00:00.000-05:00

Talib Kweli - Right About Now: The Official Sucka Free Mix CD
Koch
Released: November 22, 2005
Rating: A

Right About Now? Naw. About Damn Time.

That's how I feel about Kweli's latest. Even though the disc is just a mixtape-style album, as opposed to a proper album, it's undoubtedly the release I've been waiting for Kweli to drop for a long time. Kweli's first two projects, Reflection Eternal and Black Star, put him on the map as the most intellectual, the most political and the least likely emcee to sell out on the planet. Then came his two solo joints, Quality and The Beautiful Struggle, which both departed from his boom bap, true school style. They were also his first albums without Hi-Tek as the dominant producer, enlisting radio-frienly knob twisters like Just Blaze and Swizz Beats. I give Kweli credit for trying new things, but in my opinion, the more mainstream take on his music wasn't flattering. Both solo releases contained some hot songs, but failed to coalesce as solidly as his early work.

Right About Now takes us back in time, without taking a step back. He returns to a more honest perspective, while elevating his game to heights unseen in years. The change is apparent from the opening instrumentation on the title track. Funky basslines, African precussion and complex polyrythms simulate the feeling depressed patients felt when they popped Gleamonex in the Kids in Hall's Brain Candy. My happiest memory (relative to Talib) was recovered and locked in my cerebral cortex, immediately putting a smile on my face and a lean in my swagger.

It's not all memory lane, however. Other tracks, such as "Drugs, Basketball, & Rap ft. Planet Asia & Phil Da Agony," and "Flash Gordon" are laced with synthy, MPC oriented beats that neither replicate radio rap, nor sound out of place. My biggest problem with Kweli's two previous efforts were his attempt to fit in with the mainstraim, when all along he should have been using his immense talent and originality to push things forward.

Kweli's beats aren't the only sign of his regained ambition, though. His gift of gab got its groove back, too. One of the things that initially attracted the hip-hop community to the man who's "name is the middle of e-kwe-lity" is his tongue twisting flow that has as much bite as it does bark. Kweli shows that he has not lost that ability when he repeatedly delivers lines like, "I spit the shit to make a cripple get up and dance / I spit the shit to make the average emcee piss in his pants." Indeed.

And of course, what hip-hop album would be complete without an abundance of cameos? This one is no different, but the list of guests is rather impressive, and well...sucker-free. Rising stars like Planet Asia and Kweli's longtime friend, Jean Grae grace the tracklist alongside respected elders like MF Doom and of course, the mighty Mos Def.

One track that stands out in my mind is "Ms. Hill." Maybe it's because Talib says everything I've been thinking. The song is a plea for Lauryn Hill, of Fugee fame, to use the talent she's been blessed with, and stage a comeback. Kweli praises Lauryn, and rightfully so. She's one of the best emcees, ever. Period. "And no one is saying you Christ, that would be sacrilligeous, right? / But you could blow, you nice, sister them raps is vicious."

Typically, mixtapes are albums put out to appease fans in between meat and potatoes albums. Usually, they rehash well-known beats with new verses that weren't quite up to par, perhaps, to make an official album. Also, someone's usually beefing with someone else, if the mixtape is compiled by DJs like Kay Slay and Whoo Kid. Right About Now is not your typical mixtape in this sense. The beats are hot, and appear to be original, the lyrics are well-thought out, and quite frankly some of Kweli's best in years. But mixtape or not, this album hit the spot, Chuck Woolery style.

buy it from insound!

Review: Castanets

2005-11-21T22:25:00.000-05:00

Castanets - First Light's Freeze
Asthmatic Kitty
Released: October 11, 2005 (CD); November 22, 2005 (LP)
Rating: C+

Almost invariably, the first word you hear describing Raymond Raposa's Castanets is "murky." With good reason: his goth-folk, or Americana dirges, or whatever your branding of choice, can be incredibly dense and prove utterly hopeless in finding clarity. On last year's Cathedral, Castanets sprang fully formed from the swamp with an album that was aesthetically uniform and totally gripping; Raposa definitely didn't let the listener come up for air.

First Light's Freeze embellishes on this aesthetic. The majority of the album still features the soft acoustic strum, once again clouded by drones, buzzes, crackles, and faint electronic dusting. There are still elements of free jazz, but on Cathedral they were always reined in before meandering into pointlessness. Here, several compositions deteriorate before your eyes. One can't be quite sure if this is intentional; it could very well be Raposa's musical response to the growing chaos and helplessness in his lyrics, but I wouldn't count on it. It simply sounds like he lets his experimental tendencies get the best of him from time to time.

However, First Light's Freeze features two songs that stick out like palm trees on the set of Alive (musically, at least) and prove to be the most interesting tracks on the album. Eschewing the drone/strum/crackle formula, "A Song is Not the Song of the World" and "No Voice Was Raised" are comparatively upbeat. "Song of the World" features vocals that seem to ride untethered over alternating guitar notes and a steady beat, and is the most overtly electronic song Raposa has yet attempted. "No Voice Was Raised" features the same type of vocals over casually strummed guitar and a beat of clicks and beeps. Both songs are fantastic, and serve as evidence that Castanets may actually benefit from dynamic expansion.

The lyrics on the album are what you'd expect after Cathedral: bleakness, cynicism, and futility. It never gets as maudlin as that sounds, as Raposa has a penchant for the poetic, and never lets these ideas sound stale. Sounding like an odd John Darnielle/Devendra Banhart hybrid, Raposa commands them, and the listener is made to feel them. He sings "There is no sweetness to send," "Good friend, your hunger/ I will not host," and, perhaps most tellingly, "I put this day together/ Out of fearing in the weather/ Kept me from feeling clever/ I can't put these things together." He finally drops this impenetrably futile tone, however, on the last proper track, "Dancing With Someone (Privilege of Everything)": "I do not want to explain/ And I'm not going to/ I want to get high on something/ Go dancing with someone/ Turn our backs to the battle." This gives first indication that Raposa is in fact capable of lyrical simplicity, and the album benefits greatly from ending on such a human sentiment.

While Cathedral is a unified force that never hits a slump, First Light's Freeze attempts the same, but falls short thanks to the occasional lack of direction and too much filler. However, Raposa still commands the lyrical and vocal fronts and scores highly on his brief excursions out of the murk and into the light.

buy it from insound!

Review: Floetry

2005-11-15T20:45:00.000-05:00

Floetry - Flo'Ology
Geffen
Released: November 15, 2005
Rating: B-

So, I've been looking for a subject area to study in grad school. I think I've found it. I'm going to be a flo'ologist. I'm not sure exactly what that means I'll be doing, but based on what I learned from Flo'Ology, I'm sure it will involve the perfect mingling of female vocals and insightful rhymes on the smoothed out, melodic tip.

Floetry is back with only their second proper album, but they've proven they're anything but rookies. Well, that and the fact that they've also written songs for Bilal, Jill Scott and Michael-fucking-Jackson! The wait is over, London natives Marsha Ambrosius a.k.a. "Songstress" and Natalie Stewart, a.k.a. "Floacist" have blessed us with another solid joint to vibe to.

Within 30 seconds of my first listen, my head began instinctualy to nod. Soon after, the raspy cadence of Floacist and the soulful musings of Songstress kick in and "Blessed 2 Have" is underway. It was immediately apparent that the influence of the Philadelphia neo-soul scene is still present in Floetry's persona. The jazzy groove-oriented sound that was conceived in part by Jill Scott, "DJ Jazzy' Jeff Townes, James Poyser, and The Roots flows over the whole album.

The album continues it's upward motion with the first single off the album, "SupaStar," featuring Common. He fits right in, of course. Stellar production by one-time Root, and producer to hip-hop's elite, Scott Storch, makes this cut an all around winner. Floacist hints at her potential greatness with varied rhythms and dope delivery. "Like he’s food and I need…/Blood ‘cause he bleed/He real ‘cause I see…/It’s all meant to be." Her style has traces of Lauryn Hill, though not quite as mature. And there's something incredibly irresistible about that accent.

"Lay Down" gets the award for Cuddle Jam of the Year. (You didn't know about that one, did you?) It's a beautifully lazy song about staying in bed all day with your lover, which happens to be of my favorite pastimes.

The only downfall of Flo'Ology, lies in its arrangement of the tracks. The first six songs are exciting, lovely and textured. Then, the next two songs are arranged sans beat, accompanied by piano and strings. Now don't get me wrong, Songstress has an incredible voice, and the music is absolutely gorgeous, but it the songs simply feel out of place. Floacist's presence is only felt through whispers and drones over the music. The beauty of Floetry is the complimenting R&B and hip-hop styles intertwining seamlessly. An 11 minute chunk of the album lays flat, while the rest of it is well-rounded and full. The hip-hop element is totally abandoned on the last half of the album.

The album picks up a little, and ends with two emotional declarations in "Imagination" and "I Want U," but it's not enough to regain the energy lost in the lackluster middle of the album. Flo'Ology is still an impressive, beautifully crafted offering and definitely worth a listen.

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Review: Edith Frost

2005-11-14T23:18:00.000-05:00

Edith Frost - It's A Game
Drag City
Released: November 15, 2005
Rating: B

Let's just get this out of the way: I hate the label "alt-country." In most ways, "alt-country" is a purer form of the art than almost all of the pap you hear passed off for country on the radio. Hokey humor, Whitney Houston-style divas, and blue-collar sloganeering have long replaced understated vocalists, simple arrangements, and true heartbreak. While not all mainstream country acts succumb to self-parody, it's the reason that the likes of Kenny Chesney, Shania Twain, and Toby Keith are dominating the genre as the CMAs are on the verge of moving to New York City. NEW YORK CITY?! Do you really think a song such as "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" would stand a chance in the times of "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy?"

Any genre of music is destined to evolve (or devolve) over time, and Edith Frost's It's A Game luckily falls in the category of the former. There are elements of pop music present, but I'm not a total purist. This is country music. After her two previous albums explored more psychedelic and pop territories, this is a return to deceptively simple arrangements. Her sincerity and directness align her more with Alison Krauss and Drag City labelhead Will Oldham than the more, shall we say, "experimental" country acts such as Son Volt or early Wilco. Frost possesses a voice that is subtly sweet and never over the top, reminiscent of early honky-tonkers Patsy Cline and Kitty Wells.

The album's lyrics are very rich in detail and center around the deterioration of relationships. On "What's the Use," she pretty much sums it up with, "I fall in love and end up blue/ It's just the story of what I do." However, she often expounds on the album's title. While the majority of lyrical content focuses on the ending of relationships, there's a sort of whimsy in its fatalism, and she often greets a break-up with a begrudging grin. On the title track, she gives what feels like a play-by-play of a split-up in progress and indicates that she knows all too well how it plays out: "Hey, let's try to get distracted/ Hey, let's try to look away/ Hey, let's try to have a good time/ Everyone knows it's a game." She continues this thought on "Lucky Charm," comparing her love to a toy won from a booth at the fair: "I know it's just a useless little trinket/ And the game was rigged against me from the start."

The music on It's A Game is also refreshingly straighforward. She is most often accompanied by her own angelic harmonies, a simple guitar, upright bass, and piano. There is also ample reverb for the more progressive songs, as well as a good amount of organ. Frost often uses traditional balladry and old-time country techniques while sounding incredibly fresh. Songs like "A Mirage" (which is possibly the best track on the album) and the aforementioned "Lucky Charm" could sit right next to the standards of the genre. She isn't afraid, however, to embellish and take the standard methods in new directions, for instance "My Lover Won't Call" features an organ used to great effect to cast the song in gloomy shadows as she recounts her own experience of moving to Chicago after her divorce; the musical accompaniment is as sparse as her newly empty house.

Edith Frost belongs to a select group that includes Krauss and Oldham: artists who truly understand their deteriorating art form. While their material isn't a carbon copy of their predecessors, it isn't supposed to be. However, they find new ways to push the genre while maintaining its integrity and expressing its sincere heartache. Frost often succeeds admirably, while never losing her own brand of wry, self-deprecating humor.

buy it at insound!

Live: Sage Francis

2005-11-12T08:23:00.000-05:00

Sage Francis/ Sole/ Sol.ILLaquists of Sound
November 8, 2005
The Social
Orlando, FL

Earlier this year, I was fortunate enough to witness Sage Francis backed by Sol.ILLaquists of Sound at Coachella. Running on fumes and a little burned out by the sun and, oh, I dunno, EIGHT STRAIGHT HOURS of moving from set to set, I was more than reenergized by the performance. It was the defining set of the first day, and proved to be the second best (you can't really beat The Arcade Fire) of the whole festival. So needless to say, seeing the Sol.ILLaquists in their hometown and Sage in his home state, I was rightfully hyped.

That being said, I have never seen Sol.ILLaquists of Sound on their own. I was not prepared. Easily the most criminally overlooked and undersupported group in hip-hop, the Sol.ILLaquists have it all. Most songs offered crisp, clean hooks, spot-on MCing, and perfect beat juggling. Davinci, the DJ, would often launch into spastic drum and beat improvs, sometimes bordering on Drum and Bass or Jungle. In front of their hometown crowd, they were the consummate openers; they energized everyone and came close to stealing the whole damn spotlight.

With the crowd totally amped, Sole took the stage. That's about all I can really say about his performance, since there wasn't much to it. I know he's a bigger name than S.o.S., but he is not a great live performer, awkwardly gyrating and hoarsely rapping over his iMac. It turns out that "Anticon's Biggest Talent" got his title on his LPs alone (which are worth a listen), because if he contributed anything to this show, it was merely a lull in which people could take a smoke break or get a beer (which I took advantage of). Five people close to the stage got it, the rest of us were a little underwhelmed.

The crowd became lively again when Sage's set began, and he quickly whipped them into a frenzy. The first half of the set, he was accompanied only by DJ No Spin Zone (not a human) but turned out favorites mostly from Personal Journals including "Climb Trees" and "Crack Pipes" but also the excellent Non Prophets track "Damage," which set the energy level for the rest of the set. After a briefing about knowmore.org, Sage was backed by S.o.S., and the show really took off. Everyone contributed to the reworking of Rick Rubin's beat for Jay-Z's "99 Problems," which includes the lines, "If you hate hip-hop I feel bad for you, son/ I like 99 rappers but Jay-Z ain't one." The highlight of the show to me was definitely "Escape Artist," which combines everything that makes Sage's shows so entertaining: an energetic, visual performance, and stop/start MCing perfectly on time with Davinci's beats.

If this show is coming anywhere near you and you like hip-hop, I strongly urge you to be there. Check your cool at the door, though, and be ready to move.

Review: Cage - "Hell's Winter"

2005-11-10T12:08:00.000-05:00

Cage - "Hell's Winter"
Definitve Jux
Released: November 8, 2005
Rating: A

When Subroc said, "Chris keep your hardcore gritty," Cage listened. But even more importantly, he finally found a way to validate his dubiously demented style by drawing from his real-life horrorshow past.

He had a dysfunctional (understatement) upbringing which included an abusive, junkie father, a lowlife stepfather, and a trip to the looney bin arranged by his mother as an alternative to prison. His beef with Eminem in the early days set the tone for next decade of Cage's career. It catapulted the 2 rappers in polar opposite directions—one to a mainstream audience and super-stardom, the other to the dregs of the underground rap world and a life of drug addiction. Then, he went on to lead one of the most ferociously talented crews in indie hip-hop today, The Weathermen, which includes Aesop Rock, Vast Aire, and slew of other indie heads too numerous to mention, but take my word for it, they roll deep.

While Cage, a.k.a. Chris Palko, has always shown potential in his gifted flow and flare the dramatic, his true moment in the limelight had not yet arrived until his new joint, Hell's Winter, dropped recently. With his latest offering, Cage gives us 55 minutes of therapeutic boom bap that explorer his checkered past. But rest assured, the future is bright, kids. Cage has arrived.

Aided by long-time friend and Def Jux mastermind El-P, Cage comes out strong from the gates. The opening track, "Good Morning" gets things started on the good foot with an up-tempo beat that gets the blood flowing.

"Hell's Winter" has that sludgy, grimey quality that you would expect from any Def Jux release, but at times can be bouncy and club-friendly such as on the humbly honest "Peeranoia" and "Perfect World."

The meat of the album is sprinkled with many other obvious and not-so-obvious cameos, held together by a strong and cohesive performance by Cage. Supporting cast members include RJD2, Camu Tao, DJ Shadow, and Blockhead on production duties. Thematically, the album is dominated by anecdotes from the past, but doesn't hesitate to get political on "Grand 'ol Party Crash" featuring punk icon Jello Biafra who pulls off a hilariously biting imitation of Dubya. Cage brandishes his razor-sharp wit with lines like, "If the opposite of pro is a con then look beyond this/The opposite of Congress must by progress."

"Stripes" tells the story of Palko's biological father, coincidentally named Bill Murray, and his reprehensible treatment of Palko's mother who "could tell you exactly how the gutter tastes." Murray was a military police officer in the army, who was dishonorably discharged for selling heroin.

Other standout tracks include "Too Heavy for Cherubs," which describes Cage's experiences a youngster, when he was forced to help his father shoot-up, and "Shoot Frank" which taps Darryl Palumbo, of Glassjaw on backing vocals. Also, "Left it To Us," is a rowdy posse cut with none other than who? Weathermen gang.

Hell's Winter is solid the whole way through, and Cage's most polished album to date. Don't sleep on this one.

buy it at insound!

Once again, Endtroducing...

2005-11-07T23:51:00.000-05:00

I'm really excited right now because a great step has been taken to make this blog much better and less singular in its scope. My good friend Todd is going to be contributing to TPA! (Is TPA catchy? No, it isn't.)

T-Dub to those lucky enough to be his friends, (ok, just me) Todd does excellent design work and has impeccable taste in hip hop, indie, and just plain ass kicking rock. Over the years, I've come to rely on Todd as the best and most consistent sources among my friends in finding new, exciting music. I know this site will benefit from his writing, taste, and overall coolness. Thanks go to him for helping me out.

Now, give it up yalls, for T-Dub!

Review: Bell Orchestre

2005-11-07T20:44:00.000-05:00

Bell Orchestre - Recording a Tape the Colour of Light
Rough Trade
Released: November 8, 2005
Rating: A-

The sound of Recording a Tape the Colour of Light, like most "instrumental post-rock" albums, won't punch you in the gut with sound (like Trans Am), nor is it stagnant and bleak (like Godspeed You Black Emperor!). The pace frequently shifts from ambient (but never languid) to an energetic, controlled frenzy. There is a live quality to the recording that makes it seem full of improvisation and spontaneity, but never loses its main focus.

The headliners of Bell Orchestre are Richard Reed Parry (multi-instrumentalist) and Sarah Neufeld (fiddle) of The Arcade Fire. The importance of Parry's keen sense of embedded melodies and spirit of energetic performance can't be understated in regard to this album. Often, layers of sound are peeled away to reveal a simple guitar or xylophone melody, singlehandedly carrying the song until it is once again reunited with the other instruments. Neufeld shows great instincts on fiddle, bending pitches at just the right moment to increase or decrease tension. Surprisingly, the fiddle is often used as a sort of chirping rhythm, complementing the loose but steady drums.

"Les Lumieres Pt.1" is a beautiful piece, mainly featuring Kaveh Nabatian's trumpet and highlighted by a morose fiddle, courtesy of Neufeld. The song revolves mainly around a call and response melody between the two instruments, with gentle flourishes and builds and quietly bombastic drums off in the distance. "Throw it on a Fire" is a very energetic piece complete with handclaps, but this the band contrasts the trumpet's patient melody with the rhythmic, frantic fiddling."Salvatore Amato" is quite possibly the best track, as it pieces together everything that makes the album so enthralling. The instruments all share equal time over a rolling bass line and organic sounding drums which recalls Surrender to the Night era Trans Am.

This is one of those albums that is easily overlooked upon first listen, as it readily seeps into the background of whatever else is going on. However, the more you listen to it, the more the album reveals itself to you. Bell Orchestre never bog themselves down with uninteresting ambient experimentation and never let the more energetic pieces get out of hand. They instead create a lively and imaginative album that flows tremendously well, and never loses sight of where it is going.

buy it from insound!

Review: Sun Kil Moon

2005-11-03T18:48:00.000-05:00

Sun Kil Moon - Tiny Cities
Caldo Verde
Released 11.01.05
Rating: B+

I wasn't really surprised when I heard the concept for this album. I know exactly what Mark Kozelek was thinking. Hell, who HASN'T wanted to make an entire album of Modest Mouse covers?

The surprising thing is how well he and his (relatively) new band Sun Kil Moon have pulled it off. The former Red House Painter is known to be cover-happy, and for his first all-covers album, he picked the perfect band. It wasn't the obvious choice; Modest Mouse's catalogue is prone to idiosyncratic guitars, shout/sing vocals, and philosophical lyrics, while Kozelek was known for comparatively hushed arrangements and confessional songwriting.

What is most impressive about Tiny Cities is that it doesn't feel like a random assortment of MM songs. The songs Kozelek chose all complement each others' mood. He has successfully condensed recurring themes in MM's roster to form an album singular in focus. Themes of displacement, homelessness, and, of course, existential crisis abound in songs such as "Exit Does Not Exist," "Dramamine," and "Convenient Parking."

Kozelek's fingerprints are all over this album. He strips these songs of all things MM (except for the lyrics, which you could spot anywhere) and reworks them musically from the ground-up. Hushed vocals, soft acoustic guitars, and subtle classical flourishes abound. Every once in a while, he throws in one of those trademark Modest Mouse tremolo licks, subdued and gentrified, obviously. The music and Kozelek's voice together create a woozy concoction, putting a new spin on old favorites. "Grey Ice Water" fairs particularly well. There is a soft snare-roll, giving it a subtle military feel, while including a mariachi style guitar interlude and a vocal melody that recalls old hymns. If you can dissassociate the songs with their roots in MM lore, this sounds like a perfect, cohesive Sun Kil Moon album, perhaps even better than 2003's excellent Ghosts of the Great Highway.

However, as a life long Modest Mouse fan, it is absolutely impossible for me to separate these songs from their source. "Neverending Math Equation" loses some of its urgency in lyrical delivery, with Kozelek a little reticent to belt out lines like, "Oh my god I feel so damn old, but do I really feel anything," thus sounding more aloof and less resolute than the original. "Trucker's Atlas" sounds a little funny without it's bloated, frenzied pace, and "Dramamine" loses some of its rambling, drugged-out structure. I have to be a little critical of these songs in particular, since they are three of my favorite MM tracks. All in all, though, this is a great covers album by a more than capable artist, and it is definitely worth hearing for Modest Mouse and Mark Kozelek fans alike.

buy it at insound!

Endtroducing...

2005-11-02T21:04:00.000-05:00

Hi everyone. Well, my goal with this site is to provide a weekly review of an album coming out that week. Maybe sometimes a few. In addition to me dropping all this knowledge on you, I may sometimes post things like lists or maybe just write about a song I particularly care for. All comments and discussions are more than welcome.

I also want you to know that I have no formal training whatsoever. On the other hand, I have been an astutely active listener for years, and have general knowledge of artist history, songwriting, and technical aspects of music. While some of you see this as a setback, hopefully I won't get to be as existentially heavy-handed as some criticism, nor will I blankly accept an album or artist because I'm supposed to. I just want to report what I hear in an album, band, song, etc., and why I care (or don't care) for certain music.

For example, Pitchfork gave the new Broken Social Scene album a ridiculously good review based soley, I believe, on the laurels of previous efforts. It's not terrible, but my god, how overrated can an album get? If BSS albums were cities, You Forgot it in People is New York and the new one is Des Moines. If Des Moines had hippie tendencies.

So that's about it. I'll try to come up with some sort of grading system for albums I write about. I'll be posting again soon, so we can get this fucker off the ground for real.