There is a self-congratulatory element of Stephin Merritt’s work, the kind of which is either explained by fundamental insecurity or mind-blowing self-confidence. Either way, whether it is the heavy-handed ironosincerity of his most recent album titles (69 Love Songs offers just that, while Distortion is a collection of distorted songs and I is an album filled with songs titles that begin with the titular letter of the alphabet) or the adolescent wit of the songwriting, the man behind The Magnetic Fields seems eager for his audience to get the joke and revere him for it.

Unfortunately, at least for this listener, he’ll need to look elsewhere for reverence. What seemed like an inspired and charmed mid-term renewal of a career with 69 Love Songs has devolved into a novelty act. Perhaps that’s why everything on Realism, the artist’s latest release, seems so darn mean.

In Merritt’s defense (kind of), he’s always been a bit of a deadpan jerk, somewhat like that funny yet self-loathing guy who was in your group at lunch in the high school cafeteria, but that you didn’t want to spend large chunks of time with. There are tracks on each of his releases that make you wonder who exactly stepped on his heart and how many times, and this horse beating continues in full on Realism. So, the lashing out and whining is nothing new. It is just now finally stale. The famed morosity that prompted no less a grumpy codger than Bob Mould to declare Merritt the most depressed man in rock (see interview here) comes off one way when one is in their twenties or even thirties; by one’s 44th birthday, which the artist celebrated last month, the blah blah blues, no matter how clever and droll, is tired.

Which is a shame, really, because just as Realism demonstrates Merritt’s stalled narrative progress, it also demonstrates the man’s handiness with a melody and a hook. The thirteen songs on Realism amount well enough to the band’s hipstered approach to folk music, and while it often fails to equal good folk, it is just tongue-in-cheek enough to convince you that Merritt and his album allies could do so if they really dared to put themselves out on the line in a more sincere way. Played out “irony” aside, the arrangements you’ll find on many of the album’s tracks are impressive, from the simple but mobile album opening “You Must Be Out of Your Mind” to winkingly po-mo “We Are Having A Hootenanny,” and you are left with the impression that Merritt is a serious student of numerous genres, able to move at will between them, even if such movement is primarily satirical these days. The Scandinavian pop approach of “Always Already Gone” and the renaissance fest bar croon of “Seduced and Abandoned” further cement this conclusion.

Other tracks, like “I Don’t Know What to Say” and “Walk A Lonely Road”, demonstrate Merritt’s skill set when approaching more traditional Magnetic Fields fare. The artist’s baritone has only improved with age, as has Merritt’s apparent ability to hear himself within the arrangements, the sonic equivalent of an all-pro running back seeing the holes that few others can. One hopes that, as Merritt moves on to his next project he also evolves as an artist, making peace with relational ghosts and trading in the weary reliance on self-saluting irony for a risky challenge.

Realism, the tenth album out by The Magnetic Fields, dropped January 26th via Nonesuch Records. You can purchase it here.

Nice to see Brian hit his Lazy Saturday post, even if it’s on Sunday.  In any event, as promised, I’ve got the second installment of this week’s Radio Dick primed and ready to go.  So as y’all overindulge today and watch the Colts take it to the Saints, do it with a soundtrack of new releases just warbling their initial cries to the world.  Here are five tracks to get you moving this morning.  As the hangover ensues tomorrow, stop on back.  We’ll be wide awake (sort of).

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This Week’s List (Continued from Yesterday)

A Weather – Giant Stairs – Portland’s A Weather is releasing Everday Balloons on March 2^nd, their sophomore effort.  This track has all of the charm and soft arrangement that made their debut, Cove, so entrancingly great.  As the band gears up for the release, folks are beginning to take notice.  Somewhere amidst the slam we receive of electronica and blipped out largeness, it’s refreshing to dial it back a bit and dive into the world A Weather creates.

A Weather – Giant Stairs

Joe Pug – The Sharpest Crown – We had the opportunity to see Joe Pug here in Cleveland midway through 2009, and his smooth as silk folk crooning left us in awe pretty quickly.  His newest release, Messenger is set to hit shelves on February 16^th, and “The Sharpest Crown” is the first released track.  Quiet and melodic, he moves through the track effortlessly, and for all of the Joe Pug fans, the entire album will be a heartwarming treat.

Joe Pug – The Sharpest Crown

Felix Cartal – Popular Music – As far as bouncy dance tracks go, this one’s a monster.  Felix Cartal is dropping his debut LP, Popular Music via Dim Mak on February 23^rd and this is the opening track.  Cartal has been making a name for himself in the remix, track-cutting game and this debut promises to be the rave-inspired anthem collection of the month.

Felix Cartal – Popular Music

Frog Eyes – A Flower in a Glove – Dead Oceans will release Paul’s Tomb:  A Triumph on April 27^th from Canadian rockers Frog Eyes, and this is presumably the opener to the album.  Carey Mercer, bombastic and energy-charged frontman, collaborated in Swan Lake’s killer 2009 album, Enemy Mine, and his own outfit hasn’t put out an album in three years.  I can usually put my money on Dead Oceans to put out quality material, and this track is really doing the trick for me.  At once, the vocals are standoffish with listeners,  possibly over-emotive.  However, they settle in about two minutes in and the track soars to amazing highs.

Frog Eyes – A Flower in a Glove

Erykah Badu – Window Seat – Badu tweeted out this song yesterday via twitter and ever since, the blogosphere’s lit up.  It’s probably at least in the mode of efficiency and homage that we hit this track today.  James, another writer, has been a part of the Badu fan club for years, as I remember him spinning her albums way back in college.  Look forward to her newest release, New Amerykah Part II:  The Return of the Ankh, which drops toward the end of March.  “Window Seat” includes Questlove settling down behind the drums and finds Erykah in familiar territory.  Smooth as silk, this track promises more from the release.  Get in line.  It’ll be on everyone’s April playlist.

Erykah Badu – Window Seat

Kevin mentioned yesterday that I recently had a kid.  He’s the bee’s knees (my baby, not Kevin), but he certainly has thrown a ratchet in the old sleep cycle.  For those of you yet to embark on the journey of parenthood (which I’m imagining is the vast majority of the expensive-jean clad, indie rock blog cognoscenti), it’s the greatest thing in the world.  I look at the little dude and I feel about as happy as I ever have.  But there is no sleeping.  You know that feeling you get on the third day of Bonnaroo (or its equivalent)?  It’s hot, you’ve seen twenty bands in the last two days, your body is coursing with chemicals, you’re equal parts stoked to see the headliner and completely ready to pass out?  Being a dad is like that, but without the booze.  I feel this constant sense of excitement for what the little dude will do next, paired with an uncertainty about my physical capacity to stay up one more minute.  Mrs. Citizen popped the dude out on Wednesday.  It is now late Saturday night.  In that span, we might have slept four hours aggregate.  I can taste colors at this point.

All that to say that I really haven’t had a second to sit down and write.  I have discovered, however, that the littlest Citizen loves Megafaun.  Since he’s been born, we’ve listened to Gather, Form and Fly straight through once or twice.  It might be a coincidence, some sort of circadian alignment, but he seems to be the coolest cucumber when Megafaun is on the hi-fi.  (That’s kind of a fib.  He’s pretty mellow most of the time.  He more fond of chilling out in Mrs. Citizen’s arms than he is of  listening to records.  All things considered, that is definitely a good thing.)   I stumbled across a great show recording from January the other day, which nicely captures what the band is about live.  My baby is particularly fond of “Drains,” which is probably genetic.

I’m not sure when you’ll hear from me again in this space; I’ll pop my head out of the cave sporadically, hopefully on Saturdays, hopefully on other days with some choice reviews.  I’ll miss some days doing the dad thing, but I’m not ditching the internet completely.  Until we chat again, this should tide you over.  Enjoy.

Megafaun – Drains – Live, 2010

Megafaun – Guns – Live, 2010

Those dudes up there attended Yale.  They’re ambitious and reliable.  If I were forced to hop in a boat with 9 other dudes for my own safety, I’d be pleased to have these young lads at the helm.  We’re not as reliable at Citizen Dick, or at least we haven’t been over the last three days.  As such, our usual Sunday Radio Dick is being hit a bit early this week.  We’ll hit you five tracks today and five tracks tomorrow.  Big things have been going on around our Eastern Campus this week that have forced to go idle for a bit.  Our apologies!  Our writer, Brian, just became a proud papa.  His son, Avi, was born this week, and our sincere congratulations go out to Brian and Mrs. Citizen.  He usually hits you with his weekly Lazy Saturday posts, but he’s a bit busy at the moment introducing little Avi to the world of Megafaun and Phish.  Look out world.  At age 12, we’ll have another writer on the site.

Additionally, with tomorrow being the Super Bowl, we’re guessing that everyone’s going to slow down a bit musically and roll to the party circuit.  As we hang back a bit and look at the last seven days, quite a bit of tracks have been flying through our emails.  This week’s list is divided into two days and includes some just-leaked tracks from upcoming releases.  Check out Radio Dick Part Deux tomorrow morning for five more.

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This Week’s List

Ariana Delawari – San Francisco – The situationally unique issues surrounding the recording of Delawari’s Lion of Panjshir are cool enough to hang your hat on.  The album was recorded partially in Delawari’s homeland in Afghanistan while armed guards stood outside the door of the family home.  It’s produced by David Lynch, as well.  “San Francisco” was a track just cleared for blogger-posting so it’s a no brainer to get it on the site.  Delawari sprinkles this album with a myriad of styles but this track is the one I continually go to on the album.  It’s bluesy and emits a heavy dose of warbly southern growling.  Repeat value written all over it.  Certainly snag the entire album and read our late 2009 review HERE.  Let this track give you a taste if you’ve not gotten the chance.

Ariana Delawari – San Francisco

Yeasayer – O.N.E. (XXXChange Remix) – This week, Yeasayer’s all set to drop Oddblood to the universe with as much fanfare as tomorrow’s Super Bowl.  As bloggers, we’ve received the heavy onslaught of PR emails, tweets, and have run the hype gamut.  The positive thing is that Oddblood holds up to the media frenzy with an incredibly consistent and sonorous collection of 12 tracks.  “O.N.E” was recently shelled out as a download to folks signing up at the band’s website.  This remix wanders into interesting blipped out controlled-chaos territory, and since we’ve got a full abum review on tap for this week, the remix should hold you over.  If you’ve not pre-ordered the album, you can do so HERE and get some cool goodies, to boot.

Yeasayer – O.N.E. (XXXChange Remix)

Esben and The Witch – Marching Song – We snagged this from Pitchfork on their daily Forkcast section, and we’re glad we tooled around over there this week.  This English band has leaked out two tracks recently, including this one.  They’re soon to be releasing a limited pressing 7” that includes the other track, “Lucia” which can be streamed at Pitchfork right now.  We’re digging “Marching Song” for several reasons.  First, it’s got all the brooding spirit of a hollow dirge, and the strikingly varietal percussion drops this somewhere into the realm of ethereal gloom. Super wicked double crooning erupts about midway through, leaving listeners both creeped out and oddly inspired. Sign us up for releases in the future.  This isn’t primed to wake you up this morning, but may do an excellent job scaring the shit out of you.

Esben and The Witch – Marching Song

Cloud Nothings – Old Street – Our very own Cloud Nothings has a blossoming interest in the blogosphere of late and we’re absolutely stoked over here.  The band’s got quite a heavy following here in the rust belt, and it’s always promising to see our home team get some notice.  The band’s SXSW shows are all lined up and we’re giving our ringing endorsement to check them out in Austin.  The vinyl release of Turning On hits shelves on February 23^rd, and this track, “Old Street,” is a slice of a stylistically slippery (yet all fabulous) sound you’ll get with the album’s purchase.  The fuzzy undertones slides back a few decades into harmonious hook-driven rock n’ roll.  Big bass lines and addictive distortion make this a track I’ve been blasting in my car for days, attempting to add a jolt of color into this grey Cleveland Winter.  For those of you reading in the Cleveland area, you can check out the vinyl release party at Believeland on 2/13.  Catch that show, because it’ll be the last time they hit Cleveland, presumably, before the SXSW madness wraps up.  Cleveland Rocks, yo.  So does Cloud Nothings.

Cloud Nothings – Old Street

Twin Shadow – Castles in the Snow – Brooklyn-based Twin Shadow, AKA George Lewis, Jr. is set to release his debut EP later this year.  Produced by Grizzly Bear’s Chris Taylor (which seems to be a recurring news story of late) via his own Terrible Records, the EP promises excellently produced sound.  The taste here in “Castles in The Snow” launches listeners through plenty of the aforementioned sound.  Driving synthesizers and a killer chillwave aura, for some reason, seems louder than some of the other bands dropping this sort of thing recently.  Neon Indian has been touring of late, and I’d think this would be an excellent pairing.  Lewis’ vocals are better.   Catchy in all the right ways and epic in scope, Twin Shadow is certainly an outfit to keep an eye on as 2010 rambles onward.  If you’re not hitting repeat on this track, check your pulse.

Twin Shadow – Castles in The Snow

For folks that wander into The Album Leaf with not a lot of back-catalog knowledge, it’s probably important to note the fact that frontman Jimmy Lavalle has been around for the better part of a decade, long before it was chic to lock oneself into an artistic cave and bang out albums as a solitary enterprise.  Likewise, it’s probably noteworthy to mention that Lavalle has produced, orchestrated, and composed (because that’s essentially what this dude does on his albums) all sorts of projects spanning both hemispheres.  He’s rubbed elbows with indie darlings and has probably shucked corn with Farmer Joe.  The DIY composer has a prolific collection of long playing albums of meritorious worth even predating the fortunate allegiance with Sub Pop only a few short years ago.  Lavalle’s music is not necessarily ambient (that essentially brings heavy connotation alone), but beautiful for all its moving parts.  Roland drum machines, triangles, synthesizer arrangements, horns, strings, and nearly every possible instrument have been toyed with at one point or another.  One long walk through his previous work is satiating and riveting.  Yesterday, Lavalle’s namesake, The Album Leaf, dropped A Chorus of Storytellers and it’s a gem.  Two spins and listeners are drenched in sound, and importantly, Lavalle incorporates new elements into this album that warrant discussion.  A Chorus of Storytellers marks the first album Lavalle has ever employed the use of a full, live band during the recording process.  Sign us up.  Through ten tracks, listeners move through a gorgeously pristine and sonorous odyssey.  Sub Pop’s timing of this release couldn’t have been more shrewd.  I’ll make the claim that it’s an excellent companion piece to Beach House this winter, and at least to my ears, The Album Leaf is Lavalle at the top of his game, delicately clanking, plucking, and soaring from open to close.

A first major boon to The Album Leaf’s sound is its consistency and fully pulsing motion.  It’s difficult to separate one track from the next and this is entirely by design.  Soundscapes roll from one track to the next, drum machines softly keeping time for the fullness of tracks like “Within Dreams,” where metallic synthesizer flourishes recollect the more mystifying moments of Kid-A.  Most tracks leave the vocals in the dust, focusing on the rich sounding musicianship.  “Blank Pages” begins the album bereft of any hefty emotion with more ambient synths and drum machines guiding listeners into serenity.  Early on, LaValle sets the tone that the album entirely revolves around an ethos that toes the line between pristine beauty and electronic bombast.  Celtic strings soar through the background of the aforementioned track.  As each of these songs sort of blend together, they crunch the boundaries between chillwave and all out symphonic orchestration.

The Album Leaf works best without vocals hindering the sound.  Several tracks move into the vocal arena and while they don’t inherently take away from the album, listeners are pleased when the arrangements go completely instrumental.  “There is a Wind” is the best of the loot vocally.  Piano tuned synthesizers roll through the track while double sung vocals move into cascading and spiraling choruses.  At times, the organization builds into near jam band chill out mode.  Arching intensity builds at the tracks close, moving listeners into a pardoxical world where sound is loud despite the unshakable smoothness of its delivery.  We’ve included “Falling From the Sun” which is another vocal heavy track dropped into the middle of the album.  A more straightlaced guitar sound is embellished by the mellow crooning.  Intensity picks up, xylophone pings and harmonies serve to splatter the canvas of rolling synthesizers.  To me, the vocals could stay or go.  My money’s on the sound and arrangements alone with this record.

The chillwave genre has erupted on the indie scene like a bad case of the clap, but it’s probably important to understand that the movement is nothing without its inspiring predecessors.  With LaValle’s The Album Leaf, all of these smooth and brilliant arrangements do everything these emerging chillwave artists do for me.  There’s something more authentic here, however, taking in the idea that LaValle has been doing this sort of things for years.  Of course, this isn’t even close to chillwave because it’s more orchestral.  But the subdued listening experience is equally as mesmerizing.  Sub Pop is once again showcasing some of the best in indie music, and A Chorus of Storytellers will hold water this year.  It dropped yesterday so you have no reason to be sitting around listening to old music.  This may be The Album Leaf’s most mature and dynamic effort yet.

The Album Leaf – Falling From The Sun

The Album Leaf Official Site

Buy A Chorus of Storytellers at Insound Today!

WARNING: I’m no record label executive, so you might want to go get your salt shaker before reading the rest of this review.

You know that indie rock band that could? The one, after making increasingly brilliant and successful records starts to earn its independence from the A&R handlers and veto-wielding producers that may have shaped their work in its early stages? The one that, after convincing the label to trust both its ear and its vision gets to make the record it really wants to make?

It doesn’t happen all that often, but when it does, there can be high upside. However, with high upside, there is also high risk. Maybe the band’s instincts this time around won’t be totally on target and, without someone on the inside or up top to push back, they end up dropping a record that, well, just isn’t very exciting.

It is my great fear and something more than tentative conclusion that this is what we are observing with respect to the new Spoon album, Transference.

While there is some continuity in the band’s membership, the last few years have seen them move away from being an Austin-centered band in the conventional way of thinking and toward being a loose collective cohort of musicians based in places like Portland and Dallas (and, of course, Austin) that gather together from time to time to tease out recordings of song structures designed by frontman Britt Daniel. Thanks to the band’s continuing and increasing success, from break-out records like 2001’s Girls Can Tell and 2002’s Kill the Moonlight to universally swoon-worthy full-lengths like 2005’s Gimme Fiction and 2007’s Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, their long-time label, Merge Records, apparently decided to let the band do their thing with the most recent project. Effectively, this amounted to Daniel occasionally flying in to Austin, working in the studio primarily with drummer Jim Eno, and the band deciding what they wanted to put out and how.

It is an interesting strategy, being so hands-off, considering the label’s obvious aspirations for the records. Unlike most other releases coming out by bands who enthusiasts would consider Spoon’s peers, the publicity efforts made on behalf of the band seemed almost exclusively tailored to major media conglomerates, resulting in a nice New York Times profile here and some glowing NPR endorsement there, not to mention a Starbucks/iTunes pick of the week at the end of January, but very little by way of internet love, simply because there wasn’t much by way of information reaching those of us out there in the blogger-land. At all.

What is the result of all this freedom? Well, unfortunately, it is a rather tedious and uninspired record. To be sure, there are a couple of gems on Transference – “Written in Reverse” and “I Saw the Light” are both excellent, and my colleague Kevin recently opined to me via email that “Who Makes Your Money” is one of his favorite songs of the year so far. But none of these tracks really stand up to the top tracks on the band’s previous two releases, and are overshadowed with the far more mediocre selections that populate most of the rest of the album.

Writing that is really difficult for me. Not only does this kind of review go against the overall ethos of this website (i.e., write about what we love and ignore the rest), but this band has been one of my great loves for the past decade. I’ve been anxiously awaiting this record for quite a while, especially after the brilliance of Gimme Fiction and Ga ga ga ga ga, and to hear the band so off and aesthetically flat feels kind of like when a novel’s hero that you’ve come to identify with and cheer for without really realizing it is suddenly killed off. It’s a bummer that shakes you a bit, even as you realize that putting out a weak release is far from the end of the world, both for the band’s future and, you know, reality.

Transference, Spoon’s seventh full length album, dropped on January 19th via Merge Records. You can stream the record in its entirety here and purchases it here.

It seems as if the last couple of months have their built in hooks, with December harkening an annual wrap-up and January getting the rejuvenation vibe up and running again. But what about the months on the other sides? I mean, what does November get from indie rock? And until the fellas at Exit Stencil came up with their Free February brainstorm, the shortest month of the year also felt like the one with the least to offer.

Now, though, things are different, thanks to the aforementioned Cleveland label and recording studio. Exit Stencil is giving away nearly its entire catalog for free download, which amounts to about twenty records, including full lengths, 7″s, split releases, and EPs. As they put it, “No gimmicks, no asking for donations, no limit to the number of releases available to each person — just a free chance to check out a bunch of bands that we’ve been happy to have had the chance to work with over the past couple of years.”

Bands include the Courtney Love by way of Kraftwerk band Hot Cha Cha, art-punkers Mystery of Two, mellow psych-heads Dreadful Yawns, heavy (and frequently satirical) punk band This Moment in Black History, and several more artists. Check out the listing of available downloads here.

I’m sick.  Sniffling, coughing, shuffling back and forth between the bathroom and my increasingly stuffy bedroom.  There are days when I bitch about work, but I’d rather be there now, slogging through my routine instead of hacking up a lung.

I’ve resisted the glo-fi for a long time, refusing to buy into Neon Indian and their ilk, despite Kevin’s near constant urging.  It’s just not my bag.  But.  Washed Out is about the perfect soundtrack for a sick day.  I don’t listen to Ernest Greene when I feel healthy, but that bedroom psych sure hits the spot after you third dose of Immodium.  The Toro Y Moi remix of Washed Out may well be the apex of this particular sound, which makes it the greatest sick day song of all time.  Close the shades, pile on another blanket, rub in some Vicks and let the vibe carry you off.  Feel better everybody.

You Feel it All Around (Toro Y Moi remix) – Washed Out

This has been a tough week as a literature teacher.  Brian alluded to the heartfelt loss we feel as a reading community at the loss of Howard Zinn and JD Salinger this week.  Zinn was a seminal author for Brian, and understandably so.  For me, however, Salinger’s writing marked a pivotal change for me.  My initial reading of Catcher in the Rye didn’t spark much interest, and in fact, probably pushed me away.  I could identify with Holden Caulfield immensely, but didn’t essentially tie all the language and aphorisms together into something meaningful until much later in life.  Each time I flip the pages of that novel, I realize how integral it was in the shaping of my interest in literature.  I’ve never felt the prose was anything spectacular, and have often discussed with my students that writing in first person is often the easy way out for a novelist.  What’s incredibly fashionable right now is to focus on Salinger’s pegging of youth angst and the fear of growing up in a fast paced, moving culture.  I’ve read countless facebook status updates with Salinger quotes and all sorts of Twitter activity about the deep hole the loss of this icon leaves in the hearts of many Americans.  For me, undoubtedly, it isn’t the actual literary merit of Salinger that I mourn here.  Instead, it feels as though a part of me leaves with this closing chapter.  The Catcher in the Rye, ultimately, is what steered me into becoming an English teacher and working with children.  In some sort of morphed way, I suppose I happen to enjoy my situated place in the fields of rye, keeping kids from falling over the cliff of adulthood too prematurely.  The novel is, indeed, timeless and as folks come out of the woodwork and remember Caulfield as a relatable anti-hero, it’s probably important to step back and realize what Salinger was saying in all of this.  The rye is representative of pain and fear of moving forward, or at least it always has been for me.  It makes it just a little bit harder to move forward knowing that Salinger, as a protector, isn’t literally in the fields anymore.  I mourn this, but also can appreciate what his writing did for me personally.  In the vein of moving forward (and in perhaps the worst transition in history), here’s what we’ve been spinning this week.  Some have been rolling around the interwebs for awhile, and others are straight from the birth canal.  Enjoy this week’s list and stay tuned for reviews throughout the week.

Oh, and, as always, follow us on Twitter and, now, Facebook.

This week’s list:

Lali Puna – Remember – I place this track on the list, not so much for my own personal taste, but more for our electro outfit fans.  “Remember” is the newest track from long dormant Lali Puna, the Munich-based electronic group responsible for pretty heavy-hitting Faking the Books, released in 2004 as the band’s third effort.  The overseas electronic output is healthy in the early part of 2010, and in a continuing trend of musicians that have taken their time in between releases, folks should be pleased to see Our Inventions hit the shelves sometime in April.

Lali Puna – Remember

Clipd Beaks – Home – Clipd Beaks’ newest release, To Realize just hit the shelves earlier this week, marking a progressive maturity in sound for the Oakland noise-rock trio.  Lovepump released the album fairly quietly, but inside the album’s liner notes is anything but softness.  This leaked track marches through a lot of territory.  It rises in intensity into cacophonous flurries.  Experimentation is the band’s forte and the two released tracks from the album paint a picture of progression.  Their 2007 debut, Hoarse Lords is similar, but this time around a more mature approach to arrangement provides a closer and noteworthy improvement.  We were not hip to Clipd Beaks before this week, but the dive into previously released material is well worth it.  Also check out their site, here.

Clipd Beaks – Home

Vivian Girls – He’s Gone (Chantels Cover) – Vivian Girls have been busy over the last couple of years, releasing their stellar debut and follow up all within a short time span.  Gorilla vs. Bear posted this cover of Chantels “He’s Gone” and with this new recorded material, it’s apparent that the female low-fi ensemble has no intention of stopping the output.  This excellent and popping track will be the b-side on their upcoming single for “My Love Will Follow Me” being released at the end of February.

Vivian Girls – He’s Gone (Chantels Cover)

Beach Fossils – Desert Sand – We keep snagging our Beach Fossil tracks from Connor and crew at I Guess I’m Floating.  They’re spot on in their assessment and excitement over the upcoming album from this band.  Big ups to the folks over there for continually bringing us new material from the Brooklyn one-man-act of Dustin Payseur.  The album Daydream is due out on Woodsist records, and as I’ve mentioned before, this is lo-fi I can work with, as opposed to so much of the lackluster gritty DIY stuff coming out.  We’re totally piggybacking on IGIF’s hype, and hope the buzz spreads outward.  “Desert Sand” is a touch different than the other two tracks we’ve posted, as there is something enlarging here, quite purging and catchy in a lose the cobwebs and push onward kind of way.  In any event, stay tuned for this release.  We’re entirely on board.

Beach Fossils – Desert Sand

Caribou – Odessa – I loved The Milk of Human Kindness and am pretty amped about the upcoming Caribou release.  “Odessa” marks the reentrance of Daniel Snaith, who has been producing tunes for the better part of the last decade as Manitoba and, at least since 2005, Caribou.  “Odessa” is a fine teaser in what projects to be one of the more lofty and buzzed electro-situated releases of the first quarter of 2010.  Merge is releasing the full length on April 20^th, and the fanfare will only continue to increase moving forward.

Caribou – Odessa

jj – And Now - The much hyped upcoming release, jj n°3 is getting the pop and rhythm and blues community aflutter.  “And Now,” which has just recently been leaked, is the first track I can consistently get behind full throttle.  I’ve allowed myself to fall into the hype buzzsaw surrounding jj and I’m happily committed at this point.  If this track is indicative of what the rest of the album entails, I’ll stamp it with approval right now.  It’s catchy and brilliantly smooth in all the right spots.  As this one picks up steam, it’ll be interesting to see where this goes as far as mainstream accessibility.

jj – And Now

Four Tet – Angel Echoes – Fluxblog kicked this one out earlier in the week, and obviously it’s been floating around the internet for awhile.  Four Tet’s newest release, There is Love in You is probably the hottest thing around lately.  While the five of us haven’t fully hopped on the hype train, this track is the best of the loot, as far as we can tell.  Even without a solid score approval from me album-wise, I can appreciate the intricate, minimalist nature of this electronically situated song.  There’s plenty at play here stylistically, and a soulful inspiration manages to attach itself to my ears each time I spin this.  If you’re not familiar with the release, consider this a taste of what the entire album blooms.   It’s getting high critical nods everywhere, and perhaps we’re remiss in only getting this out to you now.

Four Tet – Angel Echoes

Serena-Maneesh – I Just Want to See Your Face – 4AD is beginning to furnish peeks into the upcoming sophomore effort of Serena-Maneesh, and this initial leaked track proposes a unique dose of shoegaze and fuzzy overdrive.  The album, S-M2: Abyss in B Minor is hitting US shelves on March 23^rd, a welcome reprieve for fans that have been waiting patiently since their 2005 self-titled debut.  This track is sprawling guitar on glittering canvas.  We’re stoked for the album’s release.

Serena-Maneesh – I Just Want to See Your Face

Mumford and Sons – Sigh No More – We’ve been on the Mumford and Sons train since October when Rob broke out “Little Lion Man” to a relatively unknowledgeable US webspace.  Since then, we’ve been pleased to see the steam pick up a little.  Last week, we reposted “Little Lion Man” to excellent reception.  This week, I’m posting “Sigh No More” to offer another taste of the album.  I’ll be posting a full length review of their 2/16 release, Sigh No More later this week, as well.  This is an opulent album of varying styles, ranging from chamber folk country auras to cinematic orchestral intensity.  Think Avett Brothers meet La Boheme in some sort of brilliantly accessible and goosebump raising cauldron of sound.  It’s a collection of tracks that’s been slowly stirring beneath the surface for the greater part of the last two years.  It’s good to see them finally peeking out with more gusto.  Folks should hop on board before the train is full.

Mumford and Sons – Sigh No More

Phoenix – Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands (Bob Dylan) – When I received the email earlier this week that Phoenix had leaked out a Bob Dylan cover, I couldn’t figure out if I was horrified or completely interested.  The cover of the lengthy and meandering last track of Blonde on Blonde adds to a small heap of acoustic material Phoenix has released recently into the ether.  I went back and played the original after listening to the Phoenix version, and with great fear of being struck by lightning, I add that this cover is a pretty good reworking.  It’s not as long, but does a pretty good job of toeing the line.

Phoenix – Sad Eyed Lady of the Lowlands (Bob Dylan)

These New Puritans – Orion – I’ve had the upcoming album, Hidden, on a healthy repeat loop for the better part of the week, letting it soak in pretty deep.  The sophomore effort drops March 2^nd via Domino Records and is primed for some interesting critical acclaim. Their debut sparked a pretty intense and loyal fan base and folks are geeked for this newest foray into unique sound.  Initially attached to the post-punk arena, the new material promises largeness and a conglomeration of a host of instrumentation and variety.  You can take our word on it that “Orion” is simply a taste of the depth and pinching sound assault that’s coming in just a little over a month.

These New Puritans – Orion

Austin based quintet Balmorhea makes really good instrumental music; that’s maybe an overly simple way to start a review, but it is totally true.  More erudite reviewers would cite a slew of modern composers that the band draws influence and inspiration from. (A review of their 2008 effort, River Arms, on P4K referenced Stravinsky, Keith Jarrett and Arvo Part in the introduction.  If you didn’t have to Google at least two of those cats to confirm that they’re not made up and/or prime ministers of European nations, you are one step ahead of me.)  That approach strikes me as dangerously elitist.  When reading that aforementioned P4K review, I felt uninformed, out of the loop, unhip; it’s a critical approach that seeks to draw attention to the reviewer, not to the music, as in “Look at me!  I write on the internet!  I know things that you do not know!”  While the review was positive, (Balmorhea is the bomb; more on that in a second.) it left me feeling that I needed to brush up on 20th century avant garde composers; I’d rather leave readers with a hankering to listen to the record I’m reviewing.  So, today: no high-brow guilt trips from me, just an honest appraisal of a sweet record.

The good news is that you don’t have to be a musicology major to enjoy Constellations, Balmorhea’s third record.  It’s not difficult in the traditional sense; there’s not a lot of atonality or aggressively weird stuff happening.  Further, the record probably benefits from the post-rock folks; this is nothing like Explosions in the Sky, but bands like that have (I think) blazed a bit of a trail into the music listening conciousness, helping modern man understand that it’s okay to listen to records that don’t have words. The album appeals to the jazzier side of my brain without quite being a jazz record.  The songs (songs might be the wrong word here, in that these are probably more truly defined as compositions, but “songs” feels more natural) are generally focused on a clean and assertive piano line that gradually invites in other elements; the piano dominates much of the record, but there’s a ton of really compelling string work as well.  This propensity to share the stage is probably what gives me the jazz  vibe; there’s not as much hyperactive virtuosity on display as on  a Medeski, Martin and Wood record, but there are songs here that would fit on a record like Tonic.  The title implies a contemplation of the stars and their movements; the music works in that contemplative tone.  There’s a lot of drifting, a lot of tension with little resolution, a certain depth of sound that implies our smallness in the universe.  It’s a good record for reflective tasks; it sounds good in the headphones when reading or writing or thinking.

We’ve got a song from the record below; it captures the incremental sound of the album well.  There’s a slow integration of a bunch of moving parts that Balmorhea uses to great effect throughout.  That piano from the second paragraph doesn’t make a significant appearance on “Bowsprit,” but the banjo is killer.  You can snag the rest of the record on February 23 from the folks at Western Vinyl.  If “Bowsprit” is up your street, Constellations will not disappoint.  (I made it through the whole thing without mentioning Erik Satie.  That wasn’t that hard.)

Balmorhea – Bowsprit

Balmorhea put me in the mood for “Echoes.”  There’s not an obvious linear connection between Pink Floyd and Balmorhea, but they share an ear for the adventurous and a yearning for the skies.  You almost certainly know that “Echoes” syncs up nearly perfectly with the final stretch of Kubrick’s 2001 and that that syncronization is mind-numbing.  You might not know, however, that Roger Waters believes that Andrew Lloyd Webber stole a bit of “Echoes” for The Phantom of the Opera.  More importantly, Waters hates Lloyd-Weber passionately for that alleged transgression.  If either Mr. Waters of Mr. Lloyd-Webber would like to settle their beef in the comments today, I’d welcome it.  If Citizen Dick can help heal the rift between prog rock and bad musical theater, we’d be proud to do so.

Pink Floyd – Echoes – Live, 1970

John Donne told me that the bell tolls for me (or us, I guess) and, this week, it tolled twice.  As a people, we’re worse off because of the loss of Howard Zinn and J.D. Salinger.  It’s odd (and, obviously, tragic) to lose two writers who worked in such radically different idioms in the span of a few days; Salinger was the flame too intense to sustain itself (dude last published in the sixties), while Zinn was the ember that kept a million fires ablaze (my man walked the walk, jamming his finger in the eye of the man for as long as it (his finger) would straighten into a point).  Kevin is more of a Salinger devotee than I am (I’ve read it all, but I actually like phonies, so that’s puts me in kind of an awkward situation), but Zinn spoke to my iconoclastic soul.    Zinn told me to aggressively work against things that I knew to be wrong; he told me to be an active participant in the world around me.  In short, “you can’t be neutral on a moving train.”  Fuck yeah.  I’ll miss his voice, but will swaddle myself in his writing.  I’ll hand my children A People’s History of the United States and warn them to be wary of authority in all its forms (even mine), as it is rarely  purely benevolent.  I’ll try to think for myself, even though there are scores of forces that will encourage me not to.  I’ll try to do right by my fellow man, even when it seems disadvantageous to do so.  Essentially, to honor Mr. Zinn, I’ll make sure that The Man knows I’m watching, that  I am pissed and that I am not afraid to tell the world about it.  Flights of angels and all that.  To close today, we’ve got the best elegy ever written by a hippie (or, possibly, anybody).  Cheers.

Grateful Dead – Ripple – Live, 1981

The best part about this particular review is that it doesn’t need to be a long one.  We’re some verbose mofos here and we tend to dig pretty deeply into our album reviews.  Every now and again, an album without a lot of necessary analysis enters the picture, and in some cases, this is extremely refreshing.  The Soft Pack, formerly The Muslims, are backing up the stellar 2009 release, The Muslims EP, with their self-titled debut via Kemado Records.  The San Diego quartet needs very little explanation, and this is probably appropriate.  Through both releases, they’ve harnessed a simple formula that works; importantly, this formula is a tricky one – one that many bands fail miserably attempting.  The simple hybrid of low-fi, punk, pop, and surf isn’t a new idea, and the indie world is overstuffed with it.  The nice thing is that The Soft Pack are doing it better than just about anyone in the country.  Both the EP and The Soft Pack can be looked at as one lengthy collection.  Pop-punk anthems with enough rebellious bravado to keep it cool and enough chops to make it intriguing.

The incendiary live act is what I most wish to see.  Some bands are primed for the stage, and The Soft Pack is that band.  Equal parts early punk sneer and laced with just the right amount of pop hook, the translation of this recorded material must be spectacular in a live setting. Throughout most of the tracks this simple formula of pummeling bass, sleek, bluesy rolling guitar riffs, and vocal nonchalance from singer, Matt Lamkin – all create intensified rhythms with a serrated edge.  On an initial spin, the darkly political “Pull Out” jumps out as representative of what is meritorious about this effort.  As with last year’s EP, the band manages to harness accessible music into a slimy enough package to keep it unique and interesting.  The relentless riff of the track is paired with traditional punk vocal delivery.  The dichotomy of the track brings both candy to the ears and an urge to hit something.  This isn’t an easy thing to pull off, as bands like Wavves have sustained it for one release, if that.

Essentially, what leaves The Soft Pack as the newly fashioned kings of raucous blues-punk is the enormous talent and maturity of the band itself.  I wrote about The Muslims EP on several occasions last year, each time discussing ironically how the initial visage is obviously frivolous and simplistic.  Behind the proverbial curtain is incredible talent.  The tandem guitar assault of Matty McLoughlin and Lamkin whips through each track with poised fills and attitude-laced soloing.  The garage sound is only the outward appearance here.  Screeching guitar play in tracks like “Flammable” and “Parasites” are frenetically spastic and bruising.  Subtle guitar fills sit behind the hollow fuzz beautifully in the latter, relentlessly riffing out to the track’s close.   This is an album to play at the loudest possible volume and with a neck brace close at hand.  From track one to ten, the quartet slinks in and out of mature arrangement and arrogant aggression, never once falling out of sync or control.  Of its ilk, there’s none better.

Some tracks steer outward on this newest release into more mature arrangements.  “Mexico” is a straight-laced narrative track that rolls backward a few decades into more heartwarming sprawl.  Piano arpeggios move in unison with Lamkin’s signature delivery.  Holding the fort down, however, are off-kilter and grating guitar fills that remind us that The Soft Pack isn’t in the building to make folks weep and think about the good old days.  Tracks like this, along with “C’mon” and “Answer To Yourself” are the band’s attempt to explore listeners’ comfort zones a bit more.  This is entirely expected as the band garners a larger following.  Isn’t that what it’s all about, in a sense?  Build upon the successes of the first release.  Grow.  Expand.  The Soft Pack is doing just that.  One foot’s in the roots-based punk DIY ethos that permeates their sound, and another is moving toward stardom.  Nobody can fault that.  As a result, we’re left with an incredibly catchy and effective long playing debut.  You’re going to want it in your collection this year.  The band is currently playing full-blown house parties this weekend in LA.  If anyone in the band reads this, I’ve got a full rooftop terrace in sunny Cleveland.  Brews are on ice, and we’ll be waiting with bells on for the bus to arrive.

The Soft Pack – Official Site

The Soft Pack – Answer To Yourself

The Soft Pack – C’mon

Whoever said there are no second acts in America apparently never met Owen Pallett. The versatile artist who once performed under the moniker Final Fantasy has not only survived since shedding the JRPG-inspired name, he has positively thrived between touring with The Mountain Goats, lending a hand on recent releases by Gentleman Reg and Gigi, and continuing to burnish his credentials as the reigning indie rock orchestral composer and, thanks to Wayne Coyne’s love for the sound of his own voice, a twitterific advocate for social justice, pitchfork-style. Add to this the fact that his latest record (also the first to be released under his new eponymous approach) has been garnering wholly merited oohs and ahhs from the bloggerati and you have a pretty strung hunch that the decade we’ve all just entered is going to be a good one for the Toronto-based violinist.

That record, Heartland, is a doozy, a concept album in the finest way that deserves dialogical communion with Van Occupanther and last year’s Edward Sharpe album (and, hopefully, foreshadows equally excellent conceptual efforts by The Besnard Lakes and Titus Andronicus later this year). Pallett shows off both his skills as an arranger and his affection for well-executed theatrical camp on Heartland, scoring his other-worldly tale of a young, ultra-violent farmer named Lewis and a supreme deity named Owen in a manner that recalls Andrew Lloyd Webber as much as it does Arcade Fire.

Once you know the initial premise, the album proceeds in a narrative way that manages poetry without being cryptic. Early into the album, a careful listener becomes aware of Pallett’s clever awareness, as he notes in the album opener “Midnight Directives” that men can be bought and sold and that “the price of a hundred thousand unwatered souls/ is a bit of meat and a bit of coal”  and when, on “Keep the Dog Quiet” he describes a union as a “cage about a cage about a cage” and  a remove as  “a narrative mess.” Later in the record, Pallett links a “concatenation” of locusts with farmers losing their focus, and never slicks a step. At other moments, the lyrics are incredibly visual, to the point that “Red Sun No. 5″ has the listener wishing for an accompanying coffee-table photo book  or well-illustrated graphic novel, while “Mt. Alpentine” and “Flare Gun” deserve the kind of map Tolkein enthusiasts get so much joy from.

While one couldn’t say Pallett exactly dabbles in brevity, his arrangements are efficient, avoiding sonic detours and sidesteps, instead getting the most out of every second. Bursts of intensity like “Mount Alpentine” cram an incredible amount of drama into its small frame, and when Pallett does stretch out a little, it comes perfectly, as on the youthfully Sousan “Lewis Takes Action,” which contrasts starkly with the medieval Kubrickosity of the narrative and, particulary, the incipient Ronettes back-beat that introduces the song. Such contrast is rife throughout Heartland, particularly on the album’s next track, “The Great Elsewhere,” which combines a jagged and technological desolation with a sea-based religious reverie.

While at times the narrative of a different world in a different era slips – see, for example, references to Earth-bound phenomena such as Disney, ketamine, and Bulgaria – Heartland features enough great songs to forgive a little continuity glitches. Among these stand-outs are, in addition to the aforementioned “Lewis Takes Action,” are the impassioned and perfectly titled “Oh Heartland, Up Yours!” and the upbeat swirl of “Lewis Takes Off His Shirt.” Elsewhere, modern western influences make their mark – from the Warner Bros vibe of “Flare Gun” and the Phantom of the Opera meets The Chronicles of Narnia and “Cats in the Cradle” geist of “E is for Estranged” – providing a welcome aesthetic hook on which to hang your listening references.

Heartland, Owen Pallett’s third full-length, was released January 18th via Domino Records. You can purchase it here.

Owen Pallett – Lewis Takes Action

We are always excited when we have the opportunity to be the first to debut a new track from a band that we love, and this new single from the Athens quartet, Twin Tigers, is no exception. If you are hip to the band and have read anything about them previously, you are probably aware of the obvious comparisons to groups like My Bloody Valentine, JAMC, and Sonic Youth. There is definitely a good deal of weight behind those parallels, but they fall far short of providing an all-encompassing assessment of what these guys are all about. That said, one spin of their latest single, “Passive Idol,” should help you fill in some of the holes left by those generalizations. While the influence of the 90’s garage sound is definitely present, there is a lot more at play here. The opening explosion of guitars and distortion is like Jane’s Addiction on Valium (which probably isn’t much of a stretch to imagine), but as it eases in I am almost immediately taken to Mercury Rev by the lush and lazy orchestral arrangements. Rhythmically my mind wanders to shades of earlier Radiohead tracks, perhaps some that may have fallen somewhere between The Bends and OK Computer. At times I am even reminded a bit of The Shins by the effortlessly cool vibe of the track. Moments of dark industrialism are brightened sporadically by crisp guitars that wane nonchalantly from sharp to dull. Overall the track sinks and soars with ease, both sonically and emotionally. Obviously there is a lot going over the course of five minutes, but at no time does any of it feel forced or contrived.

As a bit of an aside, the lyrics-junkie in me sticks on the line “I gotta be in your movie,” which reminds me of a quote that I heard a while ago and have always felt to be somewhat true. I forget the exact words, but the gist of it is that, as humans, we are all characters in each others’ movies yet we are all stars of completely different films. When you listen to the words you will see how that relates, so if you miss it on your first time through be sure to give it another spin.

The record, titled Gray Waves, is out March 2nd via Old Flame Records. If that release wasn’t already on your radar, I imagine that it will be after you hear “Passive Idol” a few times.

Twin Tigers – Passive Idol

Something is pretty awesome in the state of Denmark. This ham-fisted MacBeth reference is doubly pertinent for the city of Aalborg, the nation’s fourth largest city (after Copenhagen, Aarhus, and Odense) and, according to Professor Wikipedia, the one designated as “The Paris of the North.” There are a lot of other facts I could include about the city of more than 120,000, which has settlements dating back to around 700 AD and is currently in the midst of a transition from a working class industrial city to a knowledge-based one, but I’ll stick with the most important characteristic these days: it is home to pop quintet Oh No Ono.

The band, which has been steadily building critical and popular support in ever larger concentric zones emanating out from their homebase, has only recently started to take the American market by storm, but boy is the storm now brewing epic. Although the band’s new record, Eggs, just hit shelves (virtual and otherwise) this week, tracks and accompanying videos have been bouncing around ye olde internets for a while now, garnering the kind of healthy buzz that precedes mega-stardom (or at least an invitation to a timely and well-curated ATP stage somewhere in the developed world). Listeners and snooty bloggers alike are going ape over this record, and for good reason: it’s killer. The record is just familiar enough, harkening as much to fellow Scandinavian imports I’m From Barcelona and (especially) Peter, Bjorn, and John as it does to sprawling indie orchestras like Danielson and The Polyphonic Spree to generational debts paid to The Beatles and Aaron Copland, but doing so in a way that is arguably more experimental and psychedelic than any of the obvious influences one hears. Except, perhaps, the Rubber Soul/Sgt. Pepper era Fab Four.

The band’s sound shifts throughout the new record, and if one didn’t know better or wasn’t listening carefully, they might be likely to double down on the losing side of a wager concerning whether this is a Danish indie rock sampler, rather than the complex and genre-vexing contribution of a single group. Putting out a record where every song sounds so distinct is not only a difficult exercise, but a risky decision, as well. So often, similarly diverse albums by less inspired bands fall on their face, leaving listeners unsure of what a given band’s “real” sound is or leaving them inclined to relegate favorite tracks to the randomness of the iTunes shuffle (such as the hardly random algorithm that dominates that sequence is … don’t get me started) rather than dig – or even think seriously about – the album as a whole. Eggs avoids that trap, and does so because the ethos of joyful experimentation persists from track to track, linking the songs philosophically even as they differ on the sonics and aesthetics.

The record opens auspiciously, a few seconds of barely audible thunder before the choral melody hammer drops, followed by some quasi-Chinese orchestral strains before proto-Scandinavian vocals drop. In many ways, the track (“Eleanor Speaks”) reminds me of the last Taken By Trees album in its marriage of the region’s general pop sensibilities with a particular global impluse, though unlike that album, where Victoria Bergsman immersed herself in Pakistani culture, the boys in this band holed up on the little known Danish island of Mon for nine months in order to get deep within themselves.

The album continues in a different direction on “Swim,” arguably the record’s strongest track, with its combination of twee lyrics and a heavy chamber sound. Although the video for this song has received loads of much-deserved attention, I encourage readers to dig into the track itself a few times before watching the video. It’ll create two different and equally brilliant experiences if you do so.

Notable tracks populate the rest of the album, including “Icicles,” with its deranged male glee club tenor vocals over pompy instrumentals, the new-school, Rush-inspired cantata “The Wave Ballet,” the mermaidesque dynamics of the vocals on “The Tea Party,” and the Rentals meets 8-bit maestro vibe of “Internet Warrior.” The album’s first proper single, “Helplessly Young,” features an ascendant chorus and an odd Salt n Pepa instrumental underbelly pairing so irrefutable in its charm it isn’t surprising that the band released not one but three separate videos for the song. My favorite is posted below, but you can check out the other two here.

http://www.vimeo.com/6961919

The trio of tracks that conclude Eggs are a particular riot. “Miss Miss Moss” alone could’ve gotten the band a contract with Sounds Familyre. As much as it channels latter-day Daniel Smith work, the sincerity of the guitar work calls to mind something more like jangly 60s radio rock with just a bit of Jimi in it. On “Miss Miss Moss” and the final two tracks, “Eve” and “Beelitz,” the band stretches things out a bit, with an average run time of about 7 minutes per. The changed pacing is particularly evident in “Eve,” with its languid tenor vocals caressing the narrative as if Vivien Leigh descending an antebellum staircase. There is no hurry here, ironic for a song concerned with time running out, and the deliberate clip is worth the extra couple of minutes, particularly with its hasty mid-track transition into something both more opulent and somehow more simple and its American folk symphonic culmination that begged my earlier Aaron Copland reference.

The album closes with the nearly ten minute “Beelitz,” a song as sprawling as its duration might suggest. Beginning with some speed-tracking tomfoolery, the jibberish soon gives way to church organs and a half-Enya, half-Duran Duran sequence that eventually shows off the percussive skill set of the team. By the 6th minute, however the atmospherics dissipate and the song becomes decidedly prettier and more melancholy.

With “Beelitz,”, Oh No Ono shows that even as its “hidden track” of slow-distorted human speech, following about 140 seconds of increasingly white noise, with the occasional solitary bow pull across a cello strings, is a throwback to bygone times and technology, the band is poised to bring America’s flag-swaddled shores something new, but with Eggs and beyond.

Eggs, the U.S. debut for Danish rockers Oh No Ono, dropped stateside yesterday via Friendly Fire Recordings. The top-notch Brooklyn label – which is also home to favorites like Asobi Seksu, The Phenomenal Handclap Band, and Windmill – released the record in North and South America; The Leaf Label is handling the release everywhere else (except the band’s home country). Although the rest of the country is currently out of luck, the band is in New York this week to play shows at Mercury Lounge tonight (with another Citizen Dick-approved band, Bear in Heaven) and Union Hall tomorrow, before returning to Europe to tour the old country.

Oh No Ono – Helplessly Young

Oh No Ono – Internet Warrior

Recently, French Kissing sent us an mp3 of their new single “Oh Suzanne”. At first, French Kissing seemed like a provocative name for a grade-school band. A few moments later, I came across the above photo being used as their avatar on Myspace.  Since I’m part of a generation jaded by internet porn (where do you think I’ve been the last month?), I found enjoyment in this unexpected interpretation. It’s the little things that keep me happy.  I may be alone on that one, which I can fully understand. I hadn’t heard of French Kissing before, but when I caught the garage/surf in their description, they had my full attention. “Oh Suzanne” did not disappoint. It’s got that 60’s vibe and the heart-pumping drum beat that pulled me in from the jump off. Those aspects are complimented by catchy lyrics musing on the complexities of ill-fated romance and a guitar jam that could split the icy surface of the lake I plan to fish this weekend. The band declares this song is “Summer vibes for winter chills,” and I wholeheartedly agree. You can get your hands on the London based band’s very limited 7″ release here.

French Kissing – Oh Suzanne

(Editor’s note:  That’s a picture of Phillip IV, an actual king of Spain.  I am aware that the song I’m posting today is an extended metaphor and not a legitimate wish from The Tallest Man on Earth to be the actual monarch of an Iberian nation.  However, it is a rare occasion that I can post a portrait of a long dead regent.  If Wilco or somebody releases a single called “Lous XIV,” I’ll be stoked.  Obviously.)

I’m supposed to be doing work (grading papers, reading textbooks, sending emails, sifting through academic databases for nuggets of pertinent literature and so on).  Instead, I’m just listening to The Tallest Man on Earth’s “King of Spain” over and over.  Making comments on my students’ work?  Nope, just grooving on Kristian Matsson’s oddly unsettling vocals.  (Is there some sort of intentional distortion going on there?  Some sort of super special vintage microphone or something?  Or does this cat smoke three packs of Kools a day?  How does he maintain tunefulness with all of that gravelliness?  How sweet is it when he reaches for the high note in the last bar?)  Reading up on the material I’ll have to lecture on next week?  Nope, just marvelling at the intricate guitar work on the track.  Dude is doing some serious folk shit there.  Crafting a writing prompt for my students to sweat over?  Nope, just turning the lyrics over and over.  “I will settle in Pamplona and I’ll provoke the bulls with words.”  Yes!  Senoritas sighing, floating in siestas, the overarchingly wistful yearning.  Yes!  More of that!

In short, The Tallest Man on Earth is preventing me from doing my job.  Any chance I can sue him?  Any lawyers in the house?  His Dead Oceans’ debut hits the planet on April 13th.  I’m already reschduling my office hours to work around the release.

The Tallest Man on Earth – “The King of Spain”

Indie Orthodox New Years, that is.

Citizen Dick pals Kevin & Melanie at Music Saves coined this little phrase/mock holiday a few years back in recognition of the glut of new albums that always drop at the end of January, the first serious release day usually since the end of November. As the years have passed, they’ve turned it in to a bit of a party, as they are wont to do, and this year is no exception. If you are in Cleveland, hit this up today. If you aren’t, print out the ad and ask your own local record store why they aren’t celebrating.

Live music is important.  Records are great (obviously) because they allow for the mass distribution of art.  But.  There’s no perfect substitute for a really good live show.  At their best, records are (often) just pale imitations of live music.  There are artists who subvert that notion and are still wildly successful (Grizzly Bear comes to mind.  They’re not known as a crack live act, perhaps because of the high level of production and attention to fine detail the records.), but I most often gravitate to bands that shine in both forums.  Give me a band that works the interplay of live and recorded music and songs that can exist as both recorded artifacts and as live organisms .  Megafaun’s “Columns” sounds killer on the album, but it’s at least 20% better live.  You could live with only hearing the album version of MMJ’s “Run Thru,” but you’d prefer the live version of it every single time.  “Dark Star” was originally a two minute single, but that’s largely irrelevant right?  When we were compiling our 2009 year end list, I found myself consistently gravitating towards acts that both made records I loved and backed those records up with excellent live shows.  Those kinds of bands make the most sense for me.

All this to introduce the second album and recent live show from Retribution Gospel Choir.  The trio, fronted by Alan Spearhawk of Low fame, release their sophmore effort, 2, January 26 on Sub Pop.  They’re also touring and were in Cleveland on Friday.  The songs on 2 vacillate between an airy, traditional rock vibe (most notably on “Hide it Away” and “Workin’ Hard,” both of which almost sound like Kansas b-sides (which is intended as a compliment)) and much hairier, distortion-laden crunchy jams (most notably, “Poor Man’s Daughter” and “Electric Guitar”).  Listening through the record, I incorrectly focused on the “Workin’ Hard” facet; I thought I’d be seeing a band that was toeing the mainstream, working in mostly traditional idioms.  I should have been listening to the epic “Poor Man’s Daughter,” which, if the live show is accurate, is more indicative of what Retribution Gospel Choir is about.  I did not really understand the record until I saw the band live; I couldn’t decide what components were critical and which were decorative.  I though that the feedback workouts were the supporting concepts, serving to highlight the hooks.  The live show was an inversion of that calculation; the songs served as platforms for the band to explode outward from.

Discussion of the live show, and the record itself, can center on the four songs mentioned above.  Retribution Gospel Choir played the more direct songs, “Hide it Away” and “Workin’ Hard” and fleshed out the sound extant on 2.  The backing vocal work of drummer Eric Pollard was particularly striking live, acting as a perfect counterpoint to Spearhawk’s more visceral growl.  Both songs sounded great live, at least in part because all three members of the band are immensely talented.  When Spearhawk solos, you pay attention.  Pollard’s work on the kit was muscular and precise and Steve Garrington both plays a mean bass and has a killer bass face.  Throw that sort of talent at what are, essentially, good radio songs and things work out.  The show’s highlights, however, were on the songs that are rougher around the edges; my mom would love “Workin’ Hard,” she might chafe a bit at “Electric Guitar.”  (For the record, that’s not intended pejoratively, just to highlight that Retribution Gospel Choir can work the catchy end of the spectrum as well as the experimental one.)  The centerpiece of the record and the show is “Poor Man’s Daughter.”  Live, this thing is a psychedelic monster, the band stretching out during the middle section and laying waste to everything in sight.  Spearhawk played a facemelting solo, hammering out huge, distorted riffs and playing for an extended period with his mouth.  (I’ve seen that work exactly one other time in my life.  Most of the time when a guitar player goes for the mouth play, it comes off as cheesy and/or contrived.  Alan Spearhawk, on the other hand, played his ax with his mouth as naturally and competently as most of us tie our shoes.  It was sweet.  The other time I saw it work was when Cleveland’s own Glen Schwartz did it, so Spearhawk is in select company.)  The same solo is impressive on the record, but live it’s life altering.  Rob and I were transfixed; if I didn’t have unalterable other plans, I would have gone to Pittsburgh on Saturday, hoping to see the solo from “Poor Man’s Daughter” again.  At the end of the song, everything drops out, leaving Spearhawk and Pollard harmonizing over the last few lines in front of a spare guitar part.  On the record, it’s startling.  Live, with the band dripping in sweat, the audience swaying in stunned amazement and everyone’s ears humming, that shift into the quiet was goosebump raising.  “Electric Guitar” was as good; for a moment, Rob and I thought we heard the beginning of “Shine On You Crazy Diamond,” but it never materialized.  That’s the first time that wasn’t dissapointed that a band didn’t cover Floyd.  (That’s tortured syntax, but you probably got the message.)

The band closed with “Take Your Time” from their first record.  Rob grabbed video, which should convince you to catch Retribution Gospel Choir if you’re not already sold.  The record, 2, is a solid substitute if the band isn’t coming close to your house.  If they’re in the neighborhood, make the trip.  The live show makes the record better and vice versa.  I’ll be listening to “Poor Man’s Daughter” a lot over the next several months; show or no show, you will be as well.

Retribution Gospel Choir – Hide it Away

I entered this world on June 18, 1978 to a first-time mother and father who had just wrapped up their senior year of college.  Two relatively green and excited kids took the plunge and married just before my birth, and entered their lives together with only the earnest naivety young love affords.  I still occasionally flip through the old photo albums from the early part of their courtship, Dad a bonafide hippie fraternity boy, and Mom a beautiful and intelligent early graduate.  Those grainy photos, perhaps, serve as the only communicators of the entire mid 1970’s cultural landscape for me.  This is visually, of course.  The first two years of my life are well documented in fuzzy polaroids of wood-paneled walls and dusty green shag carpeting.  My brain swells with visual signifiers of times I simply cannot remember on my own.  Sometimes we desperately need those cultural crutches.  Time erodes so quickly and without distinct visual and musical thumbprints, our vertical connection to history may very well erode with it.  In addition to these ethereal connections, musical touchstones become incredibly important in an anthropological sense.  My father uniquely gifted me one album each Christmas, and with each new classic rock album, my worldview, musically, developed further.  One year it was Jethro Tull, another, The Who.  BTO, Yes, Foghat, James Gang, Traffic, Jackson Browne, and Floyd are several others I remember opening up and then devouring for the next three months respectively.  Much like those grainy photographs are physical artifacts of a culture I only partly lived in, these albums became a part of me, and regardless of whether or not these seminal bands were around by the time I opened up the Christmas gift, they play an integral role in my life governance, philosophy, and general musical taste.  In much the same way,  Midlake’s idyllic and progressive The Trials of Van Occupanther, to many, serves as a canonical record and one that will naturally be a reference point when criticizing The Courage of Others.  For me, however, I point back to the particular bands that shaped my childhood.  Jethro Tull and Yes were ten times more important to me than Fleetwood Mac, and in that vein, I calmly make the claim that the Denton, Texas quintet’s newest effort is worlds above Van Occupanther, in the sense that it moves me; it’s a warm blanket of Celtic sound and auditory imagery.  It’s mindblowing in every sense of the word, particularly because it is an album I’ll be able to pay my father back with.  Next Christmas, he’ll be opening The Courage of Others and a son and father connection will once again flourish.  Aqualung, ironically, was the last album I remember him leaving underneath the Christmas tree.  It is here that the review begins.

The album’s sound is where fan polarization is set to occur.  Guitarist, Eric Pulido, said in an interview at Under the Radar (about the album’s sound differences to VO), “That’s a tough one. I would say that this one is a bit more influenced by the British folk era, so a bit darker and heavier than VO. If you’re into that, I think you’ll dig it more…if not, you won’t.”  Bingo.  The first ringing endorsement is how much larger in scope and inherently dark The Courage of Others is.  Celtic and mid-60’s British folk erupts heavily from top to bottom.  “Acts of Man” is the first leaked single, and pronounces heavily the overall tone and more earthy and mystical aura that satiates listeners. Gently fingerpicked dueling guitars hearken back to the folky elements of Yes and Jethro Tull.  Multiple part harmonies launch the vocal tilt from calming to cathartic quickly.  Soaring choruses and gorgeously brooding melodies are quite striking, to say the least.  In tracks like “Winter Dies” and “The Horn,” the omnipresent piano arrangements from Van Occupanther are completely rejected in favor of guitar-driven soloing and background fills.  In the title track, flutes and rolling synths bleed into a solo wicked and warbly enough to drive all aspects of VO out the window.  The band has matured, and this record clearly and emphatically pronounces that.

One of the brilliant aspects of Van Occupanther was that vocalist Tim Smith drew comparisons to Thom Yorke without sacrificing the unique integrity of the band’s lofty sound.  In “Roscoe,” I hear early Radiohead and have for years.  To keep the tacky analogy in play, The Courage of Others is Midlake’s OK Computer.  It marks a progression that began with the jazzy underpinnings of Bamnan and Silvercork (2004) and through the classic rock revivalist beauty of The Trials of Van Occupanter and aptly ends with a blossoming conglomeration of roots-based British styles, mature and filled to the brim with euphony.  “Bring Down” evokes similar breathtaking tension to the final three minutes of “Paranoid Android,” and, to me, situates the climactic peak sonically.  The harmonies are stuffed with depth emotionally, and the sadness is its beauty.  Perhaps the Radiohead comparisons are trite here, as this album hits me with as much vigor and wealth as any I’ve heard in years.  As a British literature teacher, I teach kids about the early Celtic tribes and the origins of lyric poetry and medieval romance.  These styles are all kind of captured here into something we’ve all heard before, but rarely done so effectively.

Thematically, Midlake once again draws from the well of the past, and in doing so, beautifully augments the earthy tones the music is emitting underneath.  Midlake moves away from the central late-nineteenth centry link that Van Occupanther weaved through, but ironically, the sound itself probably throws back more accurately to the past.  Images of man’s isolation, harvest, nature, and more pastoral oeuvres are explored throughout the album.  Moments of warmth sprinkle atop motifs of despair and barren wilderness.  The conceptual break allows each track to breath a bit more here, and the link develops naturally without force.  The moments of more instense growl, particularly in “The Horn” and “Small Mountain” juxtapose the sullen balladry at work in “Fortune,” for example.  A central organic vibe pulses through the album lyrically, but at no point does it drown into monotony.  Not even close.

So how can I possibly speak in such lofty diction about an album I’ve only spent two weeks courting?  I suppose it goes back to those pivotal moments of youth where music did more to age me than hormones ever could.  The tribal and mystical ramblin’ man sounds of Jethro Tull’s Aqualung lulled me to sleep at night for many years, and it’s almost as if Midlake has produced the album I’ve been waiting to hear for nearly a decade.  This album is sprawling, enigmatic and jarring in all of the ways it should be.  Perhaps our best classic rock revivalists are doing their best to create their own niche, one of canonical proportions.  You’re a silly person if you’re not buying the album immediately on February 2nd.  To the fans of Van Occupanther, I get it.  You can have your Midlake favorite.  To me, however, this is musical perfection, largely because it’s like they crawled into my musical wheelhouse and carbon copied everything I love.  Surely, some of you are going to find equal enjoyment.  Included below (for comparative purposes) are “Acts of Man” and Van Occupanther’s “Roscoe.”

Midlake – Acts of Man

Midlake – Roscoe

Editor’s Note:  Albums are already starting to stack up, and oddly, this week’s installment of Radio Dick offers a playlist of things to come (and probably fitting that most of these are heavy hitting acts with prolific careers already).  I’m starting to get the feel that many bands used 2009 as an off-season and this year’s going to fire off as a grand finale.  These tracks all span a variety of genres, from relatively unknown acts to the canonical David Byrne.  Everyone’s going to have their hands in the cookie jar this year.  Don’t expect consistency, and fully expect to have your ears tested.  Enjoy this week’s list, and check back often throughout this week for reviews of full albums hitting the streets this week.

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Inlets – Bright Orange Air – Inlets is the namesake of Sebastian Krueger,  a Brooklyn-based DIY producer who’s soaring and eclectic compositions won him favorable acclaim with 2006’s The Vestibule EP.  Since that time, he’s essentially worked with the entire “who’s who” list, including artists like Angel Deradoorian, DM Stith, and Feist.   His debut LP has been a long time coming, and Inter Arbiter hits the shelves on April 20^th via Two Syllable records.  “Bright Orange Air” is essentially the second released track from the LP, as “Your Good Arm” was released in April of 2008 and is included in the mix on the new release.  I’ve hit repeat on this song six times.  Each listen uncovers a nuance I didn’t hear originally.   Sit back and enjoy.

Inlets – Bright Orange Air

High Places – On Giving Up – Rob Barber and Mary Pearson make up the duo High Places, and considering the blast off this track unveils, we’re excited to listen to their April 6^th upcoming LP High Places vs. Mankind, out via Thrill Jockey.  A rather galloping back rhythm steers this far away from a rock song, but smoky vocals and some darkly atmospheric attitude leaps outward from this track.  If the entire album lifts off with this much gusto, you can expect it to land squarely in the middle of a ton of critical praise.

High Places – On Giving Up

David Byrne and Fatboy Slim – Please Don’t (feat. Santigold) – This collaboration has me tied in all sorts of knots.  Nonesuch is releasing Byrne’s concept album, Here Lies Love on 2/23, and it’s all centered around Imelda Marcos.   The only connection I have is remembering my father trying to explain to me that a woman in a far off land had a houseload of shoes.  This is all I know about Imelda Marcos.  Apparently, Byrne has enlisted the help of some heavy hitters to create the LP, collaborating with Norman Cook in it’s entirety and bringing in folks like Tori Amos, Santigold, and Sharon Jones.  Hit THIS WEBSITE to pre-order the release, along with all sorts of other goodies.

David Byrne and Fatboy Slim – Please Don’t (Feat. Santigold)

The xx – VCR (Matthew Dear Remix) – Detroit’s Matthew Dear picked up The xx and remixed “VCR.”  The xx was the remix closet for the latter part of 2009, and apparently, the tracks lend themselves nicely to remixing.  For me to throw two remixes on a Radio Dick post, I’ve got to either be really hungover or interested.  The xx wasn’t tops on the list for me in 2009, but if remixes like this keep showing up, perhaps I’ll need to give it another listen.

The xx – VCR (Matthew Dear Remix)

She & Him – In the Sun – Volume Two hits the shelves March 23^rd and the first released track is solid, and our writer Brian is especially stoked for this release.  M. Ward isn’t my kind of thing, but the duo is producing noteworthy music, no doubt.  When Merge Records released Volume One, folks let the album embrace them, and based off my listens of the first, this track offers a natural blend and transition into the second installment.  I don’t think you’re getting any sort of new revelation here, but if you loved what the first collection of duets did for you, get in line for this release.  “In the Sun” promises more of the same goodness.

She & Him – In the Sun

Mumford and Sons – Little Lion Man – I give full props to Rob, our writer here, who clued me into this amazingly badass album that’s about to drop on the US side on February 16^th.  “Little Lion Man” is one part chamber folk, one part cinematic musical, and about six parts of ass kicking intensity.  The rest of the album moves in the same vein, and if those of you reading are unhip to this act, hop on the train.  It will depart soon and you’ll lose brownie points with your friends.

Mumford and Sons – Little Lion Man

The Ruby Suns – Cranberry (Radio Edit) – I’ve included this as the cherry on top of the sundae today.  The upcoming album Fight Softly is set for release on March 10^th, and this kind of fuzzy and loud marching band-esque track is earthy and global in nature and scope.  Morphed vocals, blips, angular shifts, and a whole multitude of ear-filling intrigue is sitting right here.   I’m not certain where this sound goes next, but we’re willing to dig into the full release proper in March.  Sea Lion in 2008 was a grand little album, and this promises more with the upcoming.

The Ruby Suns – Cranberry (Radio Edit)

Grizzly Bear – Boy from School (Hot Chip Cover) – While touring in Australia, Ed Droste recorded this version of Hot Chip’s song for Triple J.  I’m not an enormous Hot Chip fan, but I suppose any new content from Grizzly Bear is worth noting.  I love the stripped down model here, and the Australian folks who got him to record this deserve some heavy props.  We’re a little late in getting this out to you, but enjoy nonetheless.

Grizzly Bear – Boy from School (Hot Chip Cover)

Shearwater – Black Eyes – Shearwater is wandering into ambitious air in 2010 and have a killer LP and thematic opus in tow with them.  The Golden Archipelago is Shearwater’s third installment, and will be released by Matador on 2/23.  The sophomore effort, Rook, was vastly underrated, as the Okkervil River offshoot has continually produced stellar albums.  The Golden Archipelago may be the most ambitious to date, thematically centering around islands from around the globe, each track surrounded by its own unique back story.  Click RIGHT HERE to take a look at the special-edition materials that will be sold in conjunction with the lofty album.  The first track, “Castaways” was released awhile back, and “Black Eyes” steers into similar areas.  Large and satiating, this track has us stoked for the newest release.  We’ve been spinning the full album for a week now, and will have a full review as the release date nears.  Catharsis seems to be the name of the game here.

Shearwater – Black Eyes

Drive-By Truckers – This Fucking Job – Love or hate Drive-By Truckers and all the various solo offspring, one thing, for me, that’s impossible to dislike is the narrative element of our southern underbelly.  Patterson Hood’s Murdering Oscar is still sitting on the top shelf of my record collection, and hasn’t moved since I gave it an initial spin.  The Big To-Do is being released via ATO March 16^th.  The newest release is supposed to steer more into anthemic southern rock, and this is fitting considering Jason Isbell and Patterson Hood’s most recent solo efforts.

Drive-By Truckers – This Fucking Job

The Antlers – Two (Buffetlibre Remix) – Since “Two” is easily my favorite track on Hospice, I was mildly revolted, but nonetheless intrigued to see a remix pop onto the web.  Like a mixture of “The Neverending Story” and a gazillion billowing synthesized movie anthems, this thing is actually pretty catchy.  I suppose taking The Antlers out of the equation would make this pretty horrific, but the major conrnerstones of the track are covered and left unmarred here.  Basically, it’s ripping the acoustic guitar out of the track and replacing it will rolling synthesizers.  As I leave this, I’m unaffected, but, I’ll admit, I played it all the way through.

The Antlers – Two (Buffetlibre Remix)