Archive for September, 2009


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Rating: 10.0/10 (4 votes cast)

hush arbors_1

Virginian psych-folk journeyman, Keith Wood (aka Hush Arbors) has his forthcoming LP, Yankee Reality cocked and loaded for release on October 6th. The folks at Ecstatic Peace have been working overtime in 2009, releasing quite a bit of noteworthy experimental material all clamped tight in folk-with-a-sneer standards and badass attitude.  We’re huge fans of WAND’s 09 release, Hard Knox, and even though the two have toured together in the past, listening to Yankee Reality has me standing in line for tickets should this tandem tour ever resurface.  In all facets, this album is primed for success. With one hand in traditional Americana and another in fuzzy garage grit, Hush Arbors reaches deep in ten tracks of subtle diversity and killer ambience.  Each track bubbles something new to the top, from rich and organically driven folk simplicity to raucous psychedelic dives.  There’s something for everyone on Yankee Reality, but it maintains a delicate aloofness that makes it cool as hell and entirely pleasing to the ears.

It’s difficult to focus this review around areas of worth because the album in itself is a journey.  The first leaked track is oddly the closer of the album, “Devil Made You High.” If you’ve not heard the track, I recommend hitting this one first so you can begin the record with a sonic punch to the sternum.  The frenetic percussion mixes with intensely rising falsetto vocal delivery, all while the kitchen sink is thrown at listeners.  Fuzzed out and galloping guitars and a screeching crescendo at the outro all make a statement that this isn’t a record to dismiss as one-man Appalachian folk balladry–Not in the slightest bit.  On one hand, Yankee Reality steers this way, leaning heavily on brooding, bluesy tonalities and a gritty underbelly.  Tracks like “Fast Asleep” are edgy folk songs at heart but flourish into grimy psychedelic tracks at points.  Straightforward rock hooks have their place, as well, particularly in “Lisbon,” a retro 70′s high-octane ass-shaker at track three.  Chorus filled guitar effects and garage band style percussion sit atop hooks honky-tonk enough to hold the attention of the most staunch southern blues fan.  Certainly it’s not the pulsing attitude of these tracks that epitomize the album, but it is what points to a unique variety in Hush Arbors’ arrangements.

Hush Arbors

Another vein worthy of discussion is Hush Arbors’ panache for dreamy melody (full complimentary intent here).  ”So The Way” is gorgeously arranged, plugged in guitar picking and softly underscored synthesizers riding behind.  ”I was left on my own terms.  She shadows turn to bells,” pines Wood in a subtly slurred delivery.  It’s about a girl, and although the melodies are dreamy and effective, there’s an edgy shakiness still present.  The dual nature of Hush Arbors’ sound rings loud and clear in tracks like this.  Wood loves emphasizing melody, but doesn’t sacrifice character to do so.  In this goal, many tracks hit the beauty bulls-eye from different angles.  A near hymnal quality erupts in “Sun Shall,” a huge song with snare-laced percussion and ambience full enough to please late 60′s flower children.  Hush Arbors  puts both hands in the cookie jar throughout. Wood can play troubadour, rock god, and dreamy 50′s crooner at the same time.  Several times while listening I imagined what some of these tracks would sound like in a church setting.

As mentioned earlier in the review, pinpointing a specific area of interest is difficult with Yankee Reality because subtle variations keep the entire record from sitting still too long for evaluation.  The glue that holds this effort together is the fine musicianship Keith Wood pours into its creation.  There’s very little filler on the album, and each track points uniquely toward American folk-rock standards and psychedelic experimentation.  One run through will leave you satisfied, but multiple plays allow it to blossom.  Pre-order it through our link or get in line at the record store next Tuesday.  You’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Hush Arbors – Day Before

Hush Arbors – Devil Made You High

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Rating: 8.0/10 (9 votes cast)

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One of the most distinctive things about The Clientele’s standout 2005 album, Strange Geometry, is the pristine production and the incredibly arranged melting together of instrumental variety, vocal precision, and maturity.  This album can largely stand alone and hold its weight with just about anything released from 2005 to the present, and even if The Clientele rode ponies into the sunset and never recorded again, we’d be blessed with a staunch catalog that has moved with the times and has grown with each subsequent release. Many of the things fans already enjoy about the London quartet remain on October 6th’s Bonfires on the Heath, but, yet again, The Clientele delivers on all musical levels here.  Many will approach this, like me, wondering if a substantial follow up is in the cards and will leave the experience satiated with warm and impeccably produced ear candy, worthy of its own weight in gold and brilliant enough to stand alone within the band’s lengthy resume.

As with Strange Geometry, the band tenders Bonfires on the Heath with smoothness and flawless production quality.  “Harvest Time” was the first leaked track of the album and I’ve been repeating it for weeks attempting to catch any sort of glitch to no avail.  Lazy summertime harmonies and softly dissonant pianos create a richness that’s bold and intriguing.  If it’s possible for a full on symphonic string section to sound quiet within a folky pop song, they manage it well.  Alasdair MacLean’s standard breathy delivery hasn’t skipped a beat since their last release and his Lennon-esque style is filling in all the right ways.  “Harvest Time” nods accordingly to British musicians of weight, and a Dark Side of the Moon vibe is impossible to shake and easy to connect.  Creamy coffee sounding horn sections smoothly ride behind tracks like “I Wonder Who We Are” and “Tonight” and listening pores are refreshingly opened with each listen.  The former is superbly mixed and all of the instruments blend together gorgeously.  Gently bouncing guitar chords create ass-shaking rhythms, but avoid jarring the smoothed out edges of the production.  At times, it’s difficult to choose between sighing and laying the seat back or dancing your ass off around your house.  The latter is the 50′s diner track we’ve all heard before but loved every damn time.  The soft piano sits front and center.  Soft bass lines sit behind it all, and it oohs and ahhs it’s way into the cerebrum quickly.  “Time is far too precious to be wasted on this life with you,” Alasdair croons contemplatively within the track.  It’s not a happy song despite outward appearance. The album peaks with its title track where tear-dropping electric guitar arpeggios and super dreamboat vocal delivery is paired with unmatched production clarity.  Ivories sing and tie everything together in this track and a slipping slide guitar pronounces the oozing talent in the band and how well they mix it all together.

The Clientele Live

Alluding to the lyricism is worthy of an aside here, as well.  Matched up flawlessly with the clean production is a collection of not-quite-cathartic lyricism. The previously mentioned track, “Tonight,” includes a speaker hoping for one more flawless night in a relationship that’s already hit the skids.  “Even though.  You questionin’ my role.  I am all that I can be.  Tonight.”  This is a horrible feeling and no closure is immediately offered.  Many tracks weave through a catalog of rich emotional imagery and a connection to regret and memories of better times is splashed into the gorgeous melodies.  The closing track, “Walking in the Park,” begins with the line, “I’ve been walking in the park.  In a dying afternoon.”  Things have faded by the album’s close lyrically.  Mundane and simple pleasures still exist, but with a backdrop of recollective urgency.  Importantly, the conglomeration of instruments blend so well, the music, at times, seems simplistic to an untrained ear.  I suppose this matches the lyricism perfectly.  Lots going on with Bonfires on the Heath on all levels.  It’s fully loaded and aimed at success.

The dreamier nature of many tracks is toggled with more upbeat tunes, some even a little raucous and edgy.  “Sketch” revs up the amplifiers and distortion a touch more and rhythmically rocks out.  Spaced out nord electro synthesizers shake up tracks like “Share the Night” and horn flourishes dominate and wander throughout.  The Clientele’s value with this record is that despite all of the similar sounds that weave through each track, variation exists and fleshes each track out individually.  The second you’re entranced, they roll out jam band worthy guitar work and danceable numbers.  A prime example of this chameleonic subtlety is in “I Know I’ll See Your Face,” where a killer classical guitar solo launches in on cue and pronounced triangle sounds and Spanish inspired horns breach the typical modes listeners have digested at this point in the album.

We can’t speak highly enough of The Clientele in general, and firmly endorse Bonfires on the Heath on October 6th.  A 2009 music collection is severely lacking without this gorgeous testament to studio brilliance on the top of the heap.  We like good music.  It’s a human experience.  I challenge our audience to pick this record up and do a few things for us.  First, attempt to find a production flaw.  Next, listen through the record three times in its entirety.  If it’s not hitting you on multiple artistic levels successfully, I’ll buy you coffee next time you come to Cleveland.  You’re in for a beautifully enriching experience with this one.

The Clientele – Harvest Time

The Clientele – I Wonder Who We Are

Snag Bonfires on the Heath at Insound now!

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Rating: 10.0/10 (1 vote cast)

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This weekend has been one of juxtaposing forms of entertainment for me.  Half was spent reclining back and catching up on some reading time, while the other was spent turning my brain to jelly on amusement park rides. I’ll apologize in advance for any goofy album reviews I happen to post this week.  I can’t handle a day at Cedar Point like I used to. In any event, it’s difficult to write a weekly feature that doesn’t carry with it content-specific goals.  Usually I simply ramble.  Today I’ll begin with a brief synopsis of my reading tendencies, and then launch into a fire-back on Brian’s post from yesterday.  Editor’s note:  Brian and I argue back and forth on our weekend posts often.  He’ll shoot a poisoned dart from his Saturday post, and while he’s a little more fluent than me with the written word, I still try to stab back on my Sunday post. We’ve also got 11 great tracks for you to enjoy today.  So snag them and purchase the records as they are released.

As far as the reading goes, I’ve been hitting a lot of short fiction lately, cleaning up on some classics that I probably shouldn’t admit I haven’t read at this point.  As an English major, it’s always embarrassing to admit what I haven’t read.  Most people assume we devour any form of literature that crosses our path.  This isn’t the case, and I’ll actually argue it’s more difficult for a lit major to sit down and read for enjoyment.  So often we’re reading for class or educational purposes.  Nonetheless, I got to sit down for a few hours and revisit a few that I haven’t read in years, particularly Hawthorne’s “Young Goodman Brown” and Hemingway’s “Hills Like White Elephants.”  After reading these two back-to-back, I couldn’t help but imagine what it would have been like for Hawthorne’s Purtitan lad to run into the conversation that takes place in Elephants.  I had this humorous image of Brown slapping the shit out of the wicked bastard manipulatively forcing his girlfriend to get an abortion.  In a side note, if you’re a fan of “Young Goodman Brown,” check out Stephen King’s spookier rendition of Hawthorne’s story, called “The Man in the Black Suit.”  I also read some Flannery O’Connor and Julia Alvarez.  Obviously, there was no connection between any of the authors I sat down to read, and damn it felt good to knock some of these out.

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To take a giant left turn, if you read Brian’s post yesterday, he “outed” me as a New Order neophyte, and proceeded to discuss the five bands that one must understand in order to “get” modernity in music.  I can go with Brian’s philosophy if I believed that canonical music was rooted in the musical structures and sound alone.  I cannot agree with this because, to me, musical value also involves audience reception, and this brings in a whole slew of problematic conundrums with Brian’s statement.  He even asked in the post “is discussing canonical music even important.  I read Moby Dick.  Does this make me a better person?”  Or.  Something to that effect.  Read it for yourself here. I don’t inherently disagree with Brian’s statement and can admit that he very well could be accurate with his assessment of New Order and their value.  I’m not arguing this.  I’m simply arguing that I don’t need to fully understand New Order to enjoy something that hearkens back to it.  For me, this is because music enjoyment relies more heavily upon a personal timing thumbprint than, say, literature does.  In other words, I connect with music because of where I am during that moment in time, not particularly because it’s going to launch a thousand other bands.  To me, it’s about girls I’m dating or breaking up with, the vacation I’m on while I play a particular track, or the way it makes me feel and what images it brings up in my head.  I can surely go yard reviewing an old New Order album and probably agree with Brian when I’m done.  What I don’t agree with one bit is that I’m somehow lacking credibility to discuss a band that lists New Order as an influence.  Likewise, I think it’s a crying shame that Brian’s stuck in a rut and cannot fully enjoy a new band’s sound because it throws back to a particular band he happened to enjoy when he was seven.  This is a dangerous and narrow world view.  Brian’s guilty of this often (Like that pot-shot ya bastard? Ha!).

It’s narrow to say that you MUST know five bands to understand modern music.  What does this involve?  Do I need to know who they are and what the general respect level is for these five bands within the musical canon?  If so, I’m not guilty of anything here.  I can respect New Order, and can even see the “Blue Monday” aspect in many, many musicians of today.  Am I finished here, Brian?  Or, do I somehow need to build a time machine and go backwards to when I was seven and re-create an entire emotional landscape so that I can enjoy New Order in the exact same way you did?  Brian believes that everyone must experience the past the same way he did, or otherwise they must go back and try to.  This is odd, and has nothing to do with the new Bear in Heaven album, in my opinion.  I played the video of “Procession” that Brian posted yesterday, and I hear about a gazillion things New Order does to influence modern music.  Now what?  I really don’t hear anything different than Blue Monday, however, which I like.  So, I like “Procession,” Brian.  Where do I go from here?  It didn’t change my outlook on the new music I’m listening to a single bit.

The argument could be made in Brian’s defense that literature moves in much the same way.  Uncle Tom’s Cabin, for example, must be rooted in its particular time period to understand its greatness.  I get it.  I spend most of my days telling kids that they must understand Beowulf in order to understand why they like the Rocky series so much.  So, I can agree with Brian in the sense that knowing influential canonical bands is useful.  Enjoying them and making it a point to require folks to listen to them?  This I do not agree with because of music’s isolated connection with listener emotion, and this, I feel, is more amplified with music than with literature.  Music is more mobile, on the go, and transient than literature is and, at least for me, I enjoy music based on where I am.  I will never enjoy New Order like Brian did, no matter how many times I listen to the back catalog.  It also doesn’t impact my enjoyment of new music because I don’t have to situate myself in a time period to enjoy it.

On the tracklist for today, we’ve got quite a bit of freakout for you this week and some unique twists on old favs, as well.  I think we’ve posted just about every version of Fool’s Gold’s “Surprise Hotel” this year, and we’ve got yet another mix here.  The Pains of Being Pure at Heart have finally released a full EP of many of the leaked singles, and the first track is available here, as well.  We’ve got a reworked version of “Iamundernodiguise” by School of Seven Bells.  Their deluxe edition of their stellar Alpinisms record is ready to hit the streets.  Enjoy the reworked track.  The rest of the list is a mixture of new leaks, including tracks from The Strokes’ Julian Casablancas, and a new Salem track.  Quite a unique and varietal list here today.  Have an excellent work week everyone and check back throughout the week for reviews of albums hitting the shelves soon.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart – Higher Than The Stars

Salem – Frost

The Golden Filter – Thunderbird

Small Black – Despicable Dogs (Washed Out Remix)

Real Estate – Beach Comber

Julian Casablancas – 11th Dimension

Me Succeeds – My Main Discipline

School of Seven Bells – Iamundernodisguise (Alternate Version)

Active Child – Voice of an Old Friend

Fool’s Gold – Surprise Hotel (M.A.T.H.E.S. Remix)

Pretty Good Dance Moves – Leave Me Alone (Feat Bjorn Yttling)

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Rating: 10.0/10 (3 votes cast)

surfing is cool I think

(Editor’s note:  I don’t know how to swim.  I think we’ve talked about this before.  I’m afraid of jellyfish, barracuda and drowning.  The new band we’re throwing at you today, The Light Rays, work in a kind of sludgy surf-rock mode, hence the picture above.  I just want you to know that it (the picture or the ocean or surfing; you decide) freaks me out.  Also, I love how the dude in the front is cool and collected and the dude in the back looks like he’s shitting his pants.  Good times!)

I like things that are true.  For records, for me, this often means that I like things that are obviously records of events, things that bear an obvious human imprint.  I’m not looking for perfection in music, I’m looking for humanity.  You don’t stab at those things with studio wizardry, but through earnestly pushing your soul through an amplifier.  Charles Mingus’ “Better Get It in Your Soul” is a good example here; it is true and real and alive.  Take out the shouted exhortations and you’re left with something cold.   Shit.  What does “Louie, Louie” (and, by extension, everything that tries to be it) sound like if those dudes had aimed for a crisp, clean vibe?  (It’s a rhetorical question, but the answer is: like shit.) The Light Rays are fuzzy and dirty and imperfect, making music that sounds alive, all of which makes them easy to love.  It’s garage surf music, simply put, with the vocals way down in the mix, straight forward guitar lines and a load of personality.  They’ve got a five song, ten minute cassette available here.  That they proudly declare that it’s recorded in analog tells you more than a little about the band and their ethos.  It’s worth the four bucks.  The pure-surf riff and drum beat of “Surf Song” are augmented by some clever electronic additions.  “H Town” and “Meditation on a Theme” both have an endearing mumbliness about them.  The highlights though are “End of the World Love Song” with its strangely apocalyptic keyboard and “LSD Palm Tree,” which opens (unpredictably) with bird song before erupting into fuzzed-out bliss.  The Light Rays make me smile, mostly because they mean it.

The Light Rays – End of the World Love Song

The best part about working with Kevin is arguing with Kevin at work.  Today, we argued about New Order.  (The background, which is mildly uninteresting and, thusly parenthetical, is this: Kevin loves some hot new thing band. I think the band sounds like a bland imitation of vintage New Order.  Kevin stares at me blankly when I say the new band sounds like New Order but less good.)  I’m going to out Kevin as a New Order neophyte here, but we’ve never claimed to listen to records that we haven’t, so I think I’m in the clear.  Essentially, I said that you have to understand New Order to understand modern music.  Kevin said “Blue Monday” is okay.  I said referring to “Blue Monday” to typify the New Order catalog is like using “Touch Me, Babe” to typify The Doors’ catalog.  Then we bickered about the relative merits of The Doors and New Order.  (Neither of us had very productive lunches today, is the core message.)  The upshot is this:  there are maybe five bands that you have to know something about to “get” modernity.  Maybe these five:  The Velvet Underground, Mission of Burma, New Order, Nick Drake and Minor Threat.  Maybe there’s a different five.  (maybe Sonic Youth, Black Sabbath, Public Enemy, Patti Smith and The Stooges) Maybe the whole discussion is pointless.  (Aren’t all discussions of a canon functionally stupid?  I read Moby Dick.  Am I a better person?  Do I “get” American literature better?  Dunno.)  All that said, I’m still going to rag on Kevin for not thinking “Procession” is a gift to the universe.

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I know that I posted live Akron/Family last weekend.  But.  I’ve listened to the show that I pulled from last Saturday non-stop all week.  Driving, cleaning, writing, playing video games, walking the dog: I’ve had that show on repeat.  I spiked in The Twilight Sad record a couple of times and some stuff that I got in the mail, but it’s been 85% live Akron/Family all week.  I haven’t seen them in person yet (come back to Cleveland fellas), but their willingness to really stretch things out is immensely appealing to me.  The track below comes from a different show than the one I’ve been hooked on, but captures this balls-out mentality perfectly.  It’s thirty minutes of music without interruption, three songs melting into one another without pause.  Ignoring the fact that the 1800 seconds of music are each outstanding, the sheer tenacity is impressive; I sweat just listening to this track.  It makes me think of bands that reek of patchouli and seitan.  (Both of these things have a positive connotation for me, by the way.)  Akron/Family, in much the same way that their one-time tourmates Megafaun do, remind me of Phish and the Dead.  Not necessarily for the construction of the tunes themselves (although Megafaun talked with us about reaching for YEM a bit on the amazing “Impressions of the Past), but for the willingness to sell the shit out of an idea.  So, below, you get thirty minutes of Akron/Family, a top-shelf version of YEM (jump to 5:10 if you just want the rush you get from “the note”) and some Dead. (I went for “Samson & Delilah” because I swear I hear it around the nine minute mark of the Akron/Family track.)  As a bonus, all this hippie shit really pisses James off.  So I got that going for me.  Which is nice.

Akron/Family – The Alps & Their Orange Evergreen> Lake Song> Ed is a Portal, Live 2009

Phish – You Enjoy Myself, Live 1995

Grateful Dead – Samson & Delilah, Live 1978

Lastly, come see Death with us at the Beachland on Sunday night.  Rob mentioned this yesterday, but it is going to kick ass.  First beer is on me.

Death – Politicians in My Eyes

Triple shot of rock.

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Rating: 10.0/10 (2 votes cast)

So it’s Friday and I’m filling in for Diamond Jim, as you all know he’s a busy dude these days. Today, I think he is racing his drift car for the big bucks. He’s got his mind on his money and his money on his mind. Hey, he’s moving to the NYC soon, it’s not cheap. So I will try not to disappoint the Hodge Podge diehards. We’ve got something fairly new and something new new. They both kick ass. If you haven’t heard of either of these bands, then today is, for sure, your lucky day. It’s also my lucky day, but I will get to that later.

First up, we’ve got an epic song from the band Red Fang, taken from their self-titled album that came out in March. I’ve been thinking about them a lot lately because they are coming to town soon and I’ve heard nothing but good things about their shows. I would classify it as a brand of metal that doesn’t go overboard. They’re not trying to scare you, they just want you to crack open a beer or 20 and party your ass off. Party metal? I highly recommend picking up their full album here. I’m also posting a video for the song, if you haven’t seen it yet, then check it out. It’s pretty great.

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Red Fang – Prehistoric Dog

Next, we have a new one from two of my favorite Australians, The Mess Hall. These guys have been around for the better half of this decade and every album they’ve put out has received critical praise. It’s high grade garage rock and I wish they’d come to the states more often. I’d go check out one of their shows in Australia, but the Dick Jet is still in the shop. We have a video (another good vid, actually check out all of their videos) from their last album Devil’s Elbow and their latest single, “Bell” posted below. Their new LP, For The Birds, drops on November 13th, check back for a full review of this highly anticipated release.

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The Mess Hall – Bell

I mentioned it was my lucky day too, I get to see Beardo at Peabody’s in Cleveland tonight. It’s my buddy Mark’s birthday night out and no better way to celebrate than with Beardo the Trailer Park Hero. He used to be the guitarist for Whitestarr, but since then he has gone solo with his own brand of  politically charged punk rock party rap. He’s also a funny dude, so don’t take him too seriously or,God forbid, out of context. The video below (from a couple of years ago) definitely stems from the politically charged side of his persona and it’s guaranteed to spark a reaction.

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Lastly, a punk chaser. The Dicks and I will be heading over to check out Death (not the death metal band of the same name) on Sunday at the Beachland in C-town. Death is a punk band formed in 1974. They were revolutionizing punk, but their album was never released due to their unwillingness to change their band name. It’s out now thanks to the discovery of the master recordings in Bobby Hackney’s (Death’s bassist) attic. We are super psyched to have the opportunity to witness these guys live. Check out Brian’s previously posted bonus coverage on the band and grab their mp3 here.

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Rating: 10.0/10 (13 votes cast)

TeamClermontPublicity_BearInHeavenBeastRestForthMouth72_11-300x292We can get behind the fine folks at Hometapes.  They’ve been throwing darts all year at the music scene, and it’s no closely guarded secret how much we raved over Megafaun’s release earlier this year.  As a side note, we also got the chance to meet and hangout with the folks from the label.  Not only are they fine people, but they have impeccable taste in bands they choose to sign.  There’s a mildly eclectic and experimental side to the label, with a mainline feed into emerging musical trends.  Their lineup isn’t as lengthy as other labels, but the value lies in the quality of output they dish out.  We’re on board here, and if you get the chance, check out their homepage to explore a bit.  To connect all of this rambling, Bear in Heaven is set to release Beast Rest Forth Mouth on the Hometapes label on October 13th, and in what seems to be the typical fashion, it’s blowing our mind over here.  Large melodies, pummeling percussion, and electronically centered throwback sonic bombast hasn’t sounded this unique and refreshing all year.

Jon Philpot’s semi-rotating Brooklyn ensemble has been garnering plenty of indie rock cred over the last few months of anticipation for this album, and not without merit. Grizzly Bear’s Edward Droste has been blogging and twittering up a storm over the first track release, “Lovesick Teenagers,” a track filled with just the right dash of discord; it’s slightly brooding and dark, swirling with ambient sound that juxtaposes the cursory image of fast paced indie-pop.  It hypnotically captivates but the tightly coiled rhythms create a catchiness that is impossible to shake.  We’re in full agreement with Droste hat the track is a keeper, and also a fully tuned example of what to expect on the entire album.

An important aspect of Beast Rest Forth Mouth is, in fact, its duality.  Tracks like the opener, “Beast in Peace” and “Ultimate Satisfaction” resonate the overall importance of rhythm and percussion throughout the album’s ten lengthy tracks. Drummer Joe Stickney is the real deal, splashing triumphant percussion throughout.  Sometimes tribal, sometimes frenetic, and sometimes jazz inspired, behind everything is the percussion.  “Beast in Peace” interrupts your peace and quiet and announces that attention is required for a little while.  Although much of the album is electronically situated, it’s refreshing to know that not everything can be created with garage band.  The garage infused drum cadences inflect quite a bit of sludge and realism to the songs. The dual structure of the album is in the surrounding arrangement.  Electronic waves, pulses, and sonorous largeness stand in stark contrast to the more primal percussion of the album.  Songs are upbeat but entirely lulling at the same time.  Bear in Heaven also isn’t afraid to let a full song develop for listeners.  Broad strokes are painted initially in “Dust Cloud,” with singularly monotone vocal delivery and synth stabs hitting in unison.  An earthy and gritty intensity slow burns and rises until cymbals are crashing and pulsing noise is swirling above everything.  Large arena rock hooks and soaring vocals stay pinned down behind this methodical attention to detail.  They rein in the largeness by keeping intrigue flowing.  Songs shift angularly, like “Drug A Wheel,” with balmy night campout sounds into freaked out synthesizer flourishes and over-the-top rhythmic pulsing.  Songs need to be played from start to finish on the album.  This is where the true value rings clear with this effort.  The juxtaposition between raucous fuzzed out garage pop and dreamy epic grandiosity is present throughout.  It’s like someone’s singing you a lullaby while your bed’s on fire.

Pitchfork mentions the overall Baroque-ness of the sound, and this is an apt descriptor. Bear in Heaven has one foot in huge sonorous sound and the other in slow burning psychedelia.  The sound of this entire album is refreshing and the catchiness of each song creeps up on listeners.  We’re entirely behind this album and hope you’ll be in line snagging it upon its release in two weeks.

Bear in Heaven – Wholehearted Mess

Bear in Heaven – Lovesick Teenagers

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Rating: 7.6/10 (11 votes cast)

forget the night aheadYou ever listen to a sophomore record from a band that read too many press clippings?  The kind of deal where the first record was a triumph, people listened to it (and wrote about it on their poxy blogs) and everyone’s head got a bit too big?  (Quick aside:  We should all be really worried about the viral marketing shit surrounding the upcoming Vampire Weekend follow-up; unlike some of my douchier peers, I’m on the record as loving Vampire Weekend, but the second one is showing signs of being shitty, notably in that they’re building hype with fey pictures of rich broads.  I’ll listen and report dispassionately, but it’s not looking good.  I really hope to be wrong on this one.)  Too often bands strike upon something that works and take a left turn to appease the critics, or the fans or their stepdads or whatever.  Or maybe a band only had one good album in them.  I’m not going to name names, (cough* CYHSY *cough), but second records suck (cough* Neon Bible *cough) way more often than they rock, with the notable exception of the greatest album ever made, Led Zeppelin II (and Pinkerton and Hallowed Ground and a few others.  Get off my ass).

We’ve been excited about the new album from The Twilight Sad because they seemed, to us, to be a band capable of  stringing two good records together.  When frontman James Graham described the new effort as “really big and noisy” in a February interview with us, we knew we were in for a treat.  The Twilight Sad do big and noisy really well; their 2007 debut, Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters is, essentially, a post-graduate study in noisiness on a large scale.  If Scotland’s favorite noise-rockers were aiming to be loud and bombasitc, we assumed things would turn out well.  The Twilight Sad went on record as avoiding the first pitfall for sophomore records: thinking you’re smarter than your material.  The Twilight Sad know they’re Marty McSorley; they don’t need to try to be Luc Robitaille (non-Canadians might have to look that one up).  The second pitfall, that not having enough material for two records idea, is also one we knew The Twilight Sad could sidestep.  They pumped out a killer tour EP after the first record, proving, to us at least, that there was more gas in the creative tank.  In short, we’ve long expected Forget the Night Ahead to be good.  We were right.

The sixth track on Forget the Night Ahead, “The Room,” highlights nicely the things that The Twilight Sad do well.  To a large degree, the band’s songs work in two modes: (1) crushingly loud from the jump, with brief periodic snippets of relative quiet or (2) slowly, steadily building to an almost uncomfortable intensity.  “The Room” is an excellent example of the latter mode.  As Graham’s vocals become more persistent and portentous (and racked with emotion), sonic elements sneak in to build the aural intensity.  There’s a simple piano line (it may well be one note played over and over) through the whole song that’s gradually subsumed by increasingly loud and sweeping waves of distortion laced guitar.  The march-like drumbeat gets louder and doomier until, more or less, everything else drops out at the end.  Graham’s tough to decipher lyrics (it’s either “you said you fill to kill” or “you said to feel to share” (or both or neither) that he says over and over in “The Room”) add to the atmosphere of the song and the record as a whole.  Dude could be saying a whole bunch of things, but all the possibilities are vaguely, or occasionally explicitly, unsettling.  “The Room” is a clear standout on the record, but the things that make it work are the things that make the record enjoyable:  loud, heavily distorted guitars, iteratively developing song structures and Graham’s dichotomous vocal stylings.  (He’s got something to say and he cares about what he’s saying, but, most of the time, I’ll be damned if I know what it is.)

The tracks that precede and follow “The Room” are also top-drawer.  “Scissors” is an instrumental track that shows off the band’s chops.  The Twilight Sad share a clear lineage with some of their more aggressively shoe-gazing peers, and there’s a good bit of drone on “Scissors,” but they manage to pump the track full of restlessness and power.  One could argue that the track serves as a bridge to  tie the record together more solidly thematically, a kind of sonic glue to remind the listener that Forget the Night Ahead is maybe intended to be perceived as a cohesive whole (kind of like “Fitter, Happier,” but without the creepy electronic voice.)  I’d just say that it keeps me interested and leave it at that.  “That Birthday Present,” directly after “The Room” is a direct punch to the throat, working right in the crushingly loud vein; it’s a good bit quicker than many of the songs on the record (it’s damn near a punk song), but it does the loud/quiet/loud thing with grace and ease.  It’s also got one of the lyrics that comes through clear as day: “You’re fucking scared.”  The middle of the album (“Scissors,” “The Room,” and “That Birthday Present”) is an impressive display of range and skill.

There’s a lot to like about the sound that The Twilight Sad work in.  It’s unique and charged, visceral and loud, emotional and dark.  I’m going to assume that album three is going to be just as good as the first two.  In fact, I’ll be looking forward to it even as I turn up the volume on Forget the Night Ahead.  If you’ve not yet heard “Reflection of the Television,” it offers a good taste of the record as a whole.  Forget the Night Ahead is available in the United States now, but our friends across the pond will have to wait a bit to get their hands on it.  (And yes, I am happy that we’ve gotten something first for once.)

The Twilight Sad – Reflection of the Television

Snag The Twilight Sad at insound.

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Rating: 10.0/10 (1 vote cast)

morningbell

The first time the singer from Morningbell (it’s either Travis or Eric Atria; they’re both listed on vocals and I don’t know the band well enough to tell them apart note: we got late breaking news from the band that Travis is the one who pumps this (and the rest of the vocals) out) laces into the phrase “We’re marching off to war” in the new song of the same name, right around the one minute mark, your ears are going to pick up; it sounds exactly like Perry Farrell circa 1990.  I shit you not.  The same gravelly, power packed delivery melting into primal howl that Perry perfected on “Mountain Song” is all over the vocals on “Marching Off to War,” which is undeniably a good thing.

That one vocal line is the thing that grabbed me by the throat about the song, but the rest of it is pretty sweet as well; the shuffling, vaguely foreign percussion, the mildly spacey lyrical content and the overall vibe of skewed confidence all hit the right notes for me on this track.  “Marching Off to War” is on Morningbell’s upcoming fourth record, Sincerely Severely (out December 1 (which seems like a long way off, but really isn’t)).  The aforementioned Trevor Atria described the recording of the record as such: “We worked like motherfuckers on this one.  And it shows.”  Indeed!  Assuming the rest of the record is to the caliber of the track below, we’ll have more coverage as the leaves start to turn golden.

Morningbell – Marching Off to War

Turn up the stoner rock.

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Hello readers! Full album reviews are on their way this week. I promise. As you can see we are trying to tide you over til then. Here’s my little energy packed addition. Hopefully you’re having one of those productive, “time is flying by and I’ll be at happy hour before I know it ” days. Or maybe you’re having one of those, “if I stop looking at the clock, time will again begin to pass” days? Either way, I can only assume you’ve decided to treat yourself to a break at our website. Well guess what? We have something new for you. It’s Vagina Panther and it’s raw and it’s heavy. I love how the band’s bio describes their sound as, “the sonic equivalent of a gang bang”. Fitting if you ask me. Enjoy.

Vagina Panther – Dave, You Are Killing Me

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fat dude loves him some pasta

It’s been a busy day at Citizen Dick world headquarters.  (See the post below.)  Mrs. Citizen and I have a lasagna in the oven and we’re blasting the new Twilight Sad record while it cooks.  (I’ll have a review of it on Thursday.  Here’s a preview: it’s good.)  I popped up to the computer to check my e-mail before tuning out the electronic noise for the evening; I’m super glad that I did, because I had this track from Pretty Lights in the inbox.  While, like my colleague Justin, I’m not so much for the high energy dance music, I am a sucker for a Biggie Smalls sample (“Fuck him; I didn’t want to go to heaven anyway.”)  The rest of this album will be available for free download here on October 6; I’m going to grab it, assuming there will be more hardcore rap snippets.

Pretty Lights – Sunday School

Things are hectic.

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stress

You’ve probably already figured out that we were wicked busy this weekend and that business prevented us from hitting you with deep and compelling content today.  (Kevin was the homecoming advisor; I was plowing through the relevant literature on evidence-based practices; Justin is the most interesting man in the world (which means he’s always busy); Rob and James are working on an optical laser that can be fired at a stationary target from space, much like Val Kilmer in Real Genius.)  We’re sorry.  (Hopefully nobody flung themselves out of an office window Black Monday style because they didn’t have their Citizen Dick fix.)  To make it up to you, we’ve got another killer track from the soon to be released Le Loup record.  The percussion and vocals on this thing are stellar.  Family is in stores tomorrow.  Take steps to make sure that it is in your house soon after that.

We’lll be back with regular content on Tuesday; we’ve got good stuff on deck for you.  Until then, as alweays, keep it real.

Le Loup – Forgive Me

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Playboys_high

Today’s Radio Dick is shot straight from the hip from a busy guy in Cleveland.  In the world of high school education, nothing spells “important” like the magical and enchanting homecoming dance.  In American education, not one single night of the entire school year involves so much preparation for such little return profit.  Kids spend hours determining hairstyles, attire, dates and venue decorations, all for an anticlimactic three hour rumble in the school cafeteria.  Sometimes it’s important for me to think backwards and try my hardest to remember what it was like being a teenager.  This always fails miserably, and because I’m the student council adviser at my school, I have to sit through the wholly uncomfortable experience each and every year.  This post was actually written yesterday (Saturday) and most of the day was spent positioning spotlights on big masquerade-inspired art murals, hanging clear Christmas ornaments from the shitty tile ceiling of the cafeteria, and duct taping black construction paper like a mofo.  No time for music blogging when so much is at stake, my friends.  It’s, like, homecoming.  It’s, like, the most important day of the year.  Like, seriously.

An interesting snippet of my morning adventures does involve music, however.  As thirty or forty sleepy high school kids spent their early morning decorating, I was the only smart guy with enough foresight to bring in an iPod dock and mini-stereo.  Kids flocked toward the stereo trying to play Taylor Swift, T.I., and a thousand other bands that don’t even come close to my listening preference.  My only requirement for allowing students to use my iPod dock was that for the last half hour, I was allowed to be DJ with my own music.  In fine, impulsive fashion, the kids said “gimme gimme” and I listened to 2 1/2 hours of garbage before I could finally kick back and put in some good music of my own.  Of course, none of the students had heard a single song I played, but three or four walked out with several new bands to choose from, and several bands wound up with several new fans.  The few kids that were turned away by my music preference are probably at home listening to Shakira and figuring out how to tie a tie.  I love my students, but it’s literally mind boggling how entrenched they are in mainstream media and music.  There’s no better vantage point to witness this than in a high school setting.

Dan ManganAll this to say that my post is not long, today.  This post will hit the ether around 7 AM Sunday and with the long night I’ve got planned babysitting doesn’t allow much time for in-depth analysis.  Nonetheless, we’ve got a healthy mix of new shit for your ears.  We’ve got a couple remixes, including one of The xx’s “Shelter” and a Friendly Fires remix of Phoenix’s “Fences.”  We’re also stoked to notice longtime Citizen Dick favorite, Dan Mangan, sitting currently at number 13 on the Elbo.ws “hot tracks” list with “Robots.”  We coined this track one of our favorite tracks of 2009 way back in February when Mangan released the stellar EP that preceded his newest release, Nice, Very Nice.  We defy you to listen to “Robots” and not hit repeat immediately.  I still listen to it almost daily 8 months after it was released.  It’s great to see people finally noticing it.  Thao With The Get Down Stay down is an upcoming album we’re going to be long-form reviewing soon, and the newest leaked track “Know Better Learn Faster” is kickass.  For fun, we’ve also got a Daniel Johnston cover by Soul Coughing alum, Mike Doughty, up for grabs.  Enjoy the tunes this weekend folks.  As you read this, you can rest assured that I’m sleeping my ass off, relieved that the homecoming nonsense is now a thing of the past.  Like, I’m so glad.  Yeah.

Land of Talk – May You Never

The Good Graces – Pretty New Song

Thao With The Get Down Stay Down – Know Better Learn Faster

The xx – Shelter (Them Jeans Drum Edit)

Hush Arbors – Devil Made You High

Roman Candle – They Say

Dan Mangan – Robots

Bear In Heaven – Lovesick Teenagers

Phoenix – Fences (Friendly Fires Remix)

Mike Doughty – Casper The Friendly Ghost (Daniel Johnston Cover)

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guess who owned dark side before me_1

I’m cheap.  I love my local record shops (Blue Arrow for used stuff, Music Saves for new), but every now and again, I tap the internet for vinyl to save a couple of bucks.  (I’m a vinyl neophyte, as Mrs. Citizen hit me with a turntable for my birthday a mere two months ago, but my record collection is growing.  Stop by for Radiohead and The Who if you’re in the neighborhood.)  I ordered Dark Side of the Moon from Amazon, used, for four dollars.  Six with the shipping.  I can’t do better than that locally.  I feel like a dick for giving cash to faceless corporations instead of my friends and neighbors, but it happens.  (If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t bought a book anywhere but Mac’s Backs for like a decade.  Granted, I’m a library guy by nature, but I still do my civic duty when I need some Calvino on the shelf.  Just saying.)  Dark Side of the Moon showed up in my mail today.  It’s probably impossible to count the number of times I’ve listened to it overall (average twenty times a year since I was 14, maybe?  That’s only 220 spins.  Seems low.  500?), but I’d never heard it on vinyl.  It made me think of four things:

1.  The picture above is of the cover of the LP that I got in the mail.  It belonged, at one time, to Deb Hume.  I know that the “D” stands for Deb because she wrote her whole name on the inside cover.  She probably wrote it in 1973.  We don’t often have physical artifacts to associate with our music anymore.  Deb Hume owned this record.  I can’t write my name on my electronic copy of Wild Mountain Nation.  It exists, to a degree, in an imaginary realm; I can’t touch it.  I don’t know what this means, but it’s weird.  (If you are Deb Hume, drop us a line.)

2.  Dark Side of the Moon has sold something like 45 million copies internationally.  And it is really fucking good.  In this century, we equate selling a bunch of something with poor quality.  The highest selling record in 2008 was that Coldplay thing.  I did not listen to it, but I’ll assume that it ate balls. (The radio song with the bells that they played on SNL made me want to turn the gun on my self, at the very least.)  2007′s highest selling record was the soundtrack to some Disney movie about high school kids.  What the hell?  All of a Sudden I Miss Everybody and Armchair Apocrypha came out in 2007, but maybe twenty people bought them.  When did selling records turn into being awful?  When did not selling records become a badge of honor?

3.  There will never be a record as culturally universal as Dark Side of the Moon again.  What’s the best record of this decade?  (The 13 albums people have me thinking about this.)  It’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, right?  That’s not really up for debate, is it?  Are people going to be excited that they’re getting a vintage vinyl copy of that record in the mail in 2037?  I don’t know, but I doubt it.  Cultural fragmentation means that less things become things that nearly everybody likes.  There is nobody in a place where they have record players who hasn’t heard “Money.”  There’s no 14 year old American male who hasn’t heard all of Dark Side of the Moon.  It doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen again with a record anytime soon, regardless of it’s quality.  (Brief extension:  I’m not saying at all that Dark Side is the greatest record ever made, or even that it’s better (whatever the hell that means) than something like Yankee Hotel Foxtrot or OK Computer. But.  Because there’s so much specialization in media, records are never going to mean as much to as many people as Dark Side. Dig?)

4.  It’s easy to forget how good this record is.  Holy shit.  I love it so much.  Conservatively, I’ve listened to it 300 times and the guitar solo in “Time” still makes me feel like I’ve never heard it before.  Just saying.  (If your formative years were like mine, you’ve seen this version of “Time” before; if not you’re in for a treat.)

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In music news that isn’t thirty five years old, I’ve been spinning a really intriguing EP from Washington DC-based Last Tide all week.  It’s dense and heavy, but tuneful and catchy; that is a solid combination of factors.  The Broken Places feature five songs that sounds like The Twilight Sad with a slightly heavier infusion of The Cure; again that’s a good combination.  There’s also a bit of vocal variety, with some songs featuring a female vocalist (“Shapeshifter” is a total winner) and others featuring a dude (as the track below).  I like bands, generally, that have more than one pitch, (The obvious exceptions are bands that have one really good pitch, a la Mariano Rivera, but that is a discussion for another day.) so this is another factor in favor of Last Tide.  You can hear the EP at the band’s myspace; it’s a solid investment of your time.  (Random tangent:  it feels cool to tout a band from Washington D.C.  While Last Tide sounds nothing like Minor Threat, I still feel like I might have felt if I was writing about “Out of Step” in the early 80s.  Good times!)

Last Tide – A Traitor in my Mind

We’ve talked about the British hip-hop duo The Forcefield Kids before.  The recently released Home EP was packed with strong rhymes and head-nodding beats.  The Forcefield Kids are back with another EP, Harmony & Dischord, on November 2; in the e-mail they sent to us that accompanied the record, they expressed their satisfaction with the new material (specifically, they said it was good).  Their feelings are well placed.  The things that were good about Home are jacked up a notch in the new release.  The lyrics are compelling and complex; the beats are almost impressionistically spare.  If you think about traditionally American forms of music (jazz and the blues, principally), you often get interesting results when you filter those idioms through different cultural traditions (Chano Pozo and the Rolling Stones, for instance).  The same holds true for rap and hip-hop.  In a less abstract way than someone like MC Solaar, The Forcefield Kids are making American music that sounds foreign, which is really cool.  You can check new tracks from the last record and keep abreast of new developments at their myspace.

The Forcefield Kids – Razorblades

Akron/Family’s Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free is one of my favorite records of the year.  Today’s discussion started with epochal albums, those albums that listeners can return to decades later and enjoy or pass along to their children with pride; Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free isn’t going to sell forty-three million copies, but I will be stoked the first time my kids put it on the turntable. “Gravelly Mountains of the Moon” and “Last Year,” are two songs that I’ve wanted to post for months.  I finally got my hands on live versions of them and they are spine-tingling (making me even more bummed out that I was out of town for the bands Cleveland appearance this summer).   The Dead cover is just as good.  (What percentage of the audience was hoping for “China Cat Sunflower” next?  75? 90?)  Set ‘Em Wild, Set ‘Em Free is a record I’m putting in the time capsule; the tracks below offer some support for that position.  (“Last Year” sounds like it might have been performed unamplified.  I want to punch the drunk with the inflated opinion of his pipes in the face.  You’ll know who I’m talking about.)

Akron/Family – Gravelly Mountains of the Moon – Live

Akron/Family – Last Year – Live

Akron/Family – I Know You Rider – Live

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theskydrops-appalachia

We here at Citizen Dick World Enterprises like to stay ahead of the curve, or at least in pace with it. Sometimes, however, we miss a beat. We’ve taken one another to task for such ball droppage in the past and promise to continue doing so. While we cannot go back in time and fix such mistakes, we can reach back into the near past and drop a tasty nugget of tunage (apparently I’m channeling Phish today) for you to check out.

Such is the case with today’s singles club entry, “Truth Is” from The Sky Drops recent album, Bourgeois Beat. Hailing from Delaware, which itself is strange, since the sound has Los Angeles virtually encoded into it, The Sky Drops bring some of the freshest fuzzy psych-pop I’ve heard in quite some time, a sonic smoothie blended together with equal parts Film School, Neil Young, and Blinker the Star.

The duo that comprise The Sky Drops – guitarist Rob Montejo and drummer Monika Bullette – stick to classic shoegaze theory with Bourgeois Beat, keeping it simple and, in doing so, decisive and deliciously bad-ass. These guys aren’t jacking up their sound, adding unnecessary nuance. Instead, they are going to the roots of the genre, which isn’t much of a trek for Montejo, given his former membership in seminal shoegazer band, Smashing Orange. In other words, what you have here are a pair of musicians that know what they want to do and know how to do it, and aren’t gonna get all po-mo glitchy on your ass in order to score a critical point here or there. In other other words, check this shit out, pronto.

While you are at it, check out the video for “Truth Is” – it reminds me of something Godard’s grandson might’ve done after watching
The French Connection and jamming to “Sabotage” on his ipod, en route to the shoot.

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The Sky Drops – Truth Is

The Sky Drops – Swimming with Fishes

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I’m going to start off the day by jumping right into a quick review of The Drones show at Schubas Tavern that I mentioned last week in this space. In the interest of full disclosure, I went to the bar this past Tuesday woefully unprepared. Though I was fully aware that The Drones have been around for nearly a decade and have been well received both in their home country of Australia and here stateside, my knowledge of their back catalog was (and still is) shamefully inadequate. As such, I walked into the show this week having no idea what to expect but with high expectations nonetheless.

drones_1

To be honest, Schubas is not one of my favorite places in the city to see a show. For starters the location is less than ideal for someone coming from the Wicker Park/Ukrainian Village area, and though the room is cozy enough it lacks the dive-like appeal that my favorite venues are known for. Not to say that I haven’t seen mu share of great shows there, but they could have easily taken place elsewhere and likely been even better. Years ago the space seemed to be far more indie-friendly, but as the neighborhood has gentrified into Lincoln Park north, the bookings have trended far more toward the mainstream. Again, not that there is anything wrong with that, but I feel as though it certainly had an effect on the attendance on Tuesday. Despite being a major metropolis, getting people in Chicago to go out on a Tuesday night is often like pulling teeth: unless something really big is going down you are going to have a hard time packing the room. And therein lies the biggest downfall of Schubas on this particular evening. The band on the stage was so immensely talented that it was almost painful for me to watch them pour their souls out on the stage for a semi-lifeless crowd of maybe thirty people. Selfishly I was fine with catching an incredible band in a non-crowded and intimate environment, but altruistically they deserved much better.

The Drones Band 2

The show itself was an hour-long onslaught of some of the best shoegaze-garage music that I have had the opportunity to witness up close and personal. The entire band oozed with talent and their chops were on full display throughout the evening. Singer and guitarist Gareth Liddiard put on a mesmerizing performance, belting out infectious hooks in his thick Australian accent while shredding his fingers on against his own guitar strings. No exaggeration, the white pick guard on his Fender Jazzmaster was stained with his blood by the time the band was into their third song. Beyond his intense vocals, Liddiard was otherwise quiet throughout the set, seemingly comfortable to defer all witty banter to guitarist Dan Luscombe, who had no trouble keeping the crowd entertained. Typically it is hard to maintain interest in a show when you are unfamiliar with the majority of the songs, but The Drones had me sucked in entirely from the opening note, an incredible testament to what this band is able to do on stage. Though the set was short and there was no encore, I left more than please with the performance that I took in. Unfortunately I can’t comment on the setlist given my relative unfamiliarity and the fact that the band did not leave one on the stage for me to snag, but I can tell you this: if you have a chance to see these guys play, do it, and if you don’t, at least buy their records. You won’t regret it.

The Drones – Nail It Down (Live)

Buy The Drones @ Insound!

Real Ones Band

Next up is a brand new track that I got just a few days ago and have been spinning habitually ever since. As you might imagine, I get a ton of songs in my inbox on any given day, and though I try to listen to everything eventually, sometimes one of them catches my eye right away and I just need to hear it immediately. This was the case when I came upon Real Ones on Wednesday afternoon. Not only did it come from one of my favorite PR folks to work with, but the notes that accompanied it compared the band to both The Flaming Lips and Wilco. I’m aware that most of the time you can take those types of comparisons with a grain of salt, but I have a habit of being instantly intrigued by any band that welcomes a comparison to The Lips. The vast majority of the time I end up thoroughly disappointed, but Real Ones offered me a very pleasant surprise. I wouldn’t that they are really all that similar, but I can see the similarities in a RIYL sort of way. In any event, this is clearly a band that can stand on its own merits. When you venture into the realm of melodic acid folk-pop, there typically isn’t a lot of room for error, and these guys have absolutely nailed it. “Every Dog Has His Day” is criminally addictive and will be included on the Norwegian quintet’s US debut All for the Neighbourhood, which is dropping next week.

Real Ones – Every Dog Has His Day

Buy Real Ones @ Insound!

Ryan Adams

Ryan Adams has always been an artist that I have fallen in and out of love with throughout the years. I loved everything he did in Whiskeytown and Heartbreaker will always be on my list of albums I would want if I were stranded on a desert island. Beyond that, with the exception of Gold, which was a big part of my life for a few years, the rest of his records sort of come and go on a whim. While I like everything, I tend to go through phases and move on. As a lyrics person, I feel that this is easy to do with Ryan’s records given their relatability and often very personal content. The nice thing about that is that every now and then, when a song catches me or comes up in a shuffle, I can go back and rediscover pieces of his catalog that I had previously neglected or under-appreciated. This has been the case for me over the last week or so with Demolition. I used to like “Starting to Hurt” a ton, but never gave a whole lot of thought to the rest of the record beyond the initial infatuation the first week that I had it. Fast forward to now, after falling in love with the track “Cry on Demand,” and Demolition is my current favorite Ryan record. While I know that may change by morning (though I doubt it; I’m going to give it at least a few months at this point), it’s yet another gem that I can now stow away in my list of albums that I can play from start to finish and love every second of.

Ryan Adams – Cry On Demand

Buy Ryan Adams @ Insound!

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strickencity1

Let me be clear, I don’t dance. I never could dance. I never will dance. I am the Sir Nose of dancing. (Put me down, let go my leg, etc.)

Given this, it shouldn’t be surprising for you to learn that I tend not to like “dance” music. (I put that word in quotation marks because one could dance to anything, even silence. Clearly, I’m referring to a particular genre of music. Don’t be coy – you know exactly what I’m talking about. Stop being a contrarian.)

However, when I do like “dance” music, I tend to really like it, almost becoming a secular evangelist (read: my borderline-obsessive and hysterical endorsement of the recent Phenomenal Handclaps album).

Thanks to London group Stricken City, we might have another case of hysterics and obsession on our hands. We won’t know for a little while yet, as they haven’t dropped their album, but judging from their single, “Pull the House Down,” there’s a solid chance.

Even with the four-on-the-floor club beat which is usually an excellent predictor that I will not like a song, “Pull the House Down” possesses a charm and indie edge that overcomes my bias almost immediately. The fact that Rebekah Raa has a voice that combines the throaty poutiness of Victoria Bergstrom with the prettiness of Françoise Hardy doesn’t hurt. Also, maracas. When was the last time they sounded so cool?

Stricken City – Pull the House Down

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leloup_new2

(Editor’s note: Today’s post is explicitly intended for Maryland’s best quasi-experimental indie folk quintet, Le Loup.  I felt I owed them an explanation for my failure to review their upcoming sophomore album, out  September 22 on Hardly Art.  If you’re not in Le Loup, you’re more than welcome to read the following letter to the band, but that’s a touch voyeuristic isn’t it?  Creep.)

Dear Le Loup:

I’ve been procrastinating.  I’m working on my doctorate and I’ve got two classes this semester, one of which requires a substantial amount of writing.  Today, I had to pump out five pages on teacher retention in special education (fascinating reading here, if you’re interested) and a review of your soon to be released record, Family. I had to write both of these things today because, as I mentioned at the outset, I’ve been procrastinating.  In hindsight, I probably should have written a good bit of the paper before today.  I feel like I have a finite number of words in me and, as such, you’re getting the short end of the stick on the record review front.  In short, you deserve better and I apologize for my lack of time management skills.  I suck.

This is an especially painful letter to write because I love Family. I told Kevin at Open House on Monday (it’s been a long week; maybe I shouldn’t feel like such a shit for putting things off) that the title track is one of my favorite tunes of the year.  It’s like a musical version of Sometimes a Great Notion; intentionally iconoclastic and difficult, but rewarding as hell.  When the tune emerges from the fog around the two and a half minute mark with that jaunty guitar line and triumphant vocal bit, I get a surge of adrenaline (and even more of one when it all comes together at the three minute mark).  Those types of moments are all over the record.  As a band, you know how to craft the kinds of moments that rattle the speakers and shake the soul.

It’s strangely fitting that I cocked up my own clock on this review because you handle time so adroitly on Family. You’re willing to let songs breathe and develop at their own pace.  Shit, “Sherpa” has something like a two minute introductory section.  Over the course of the album, there are times when things meander a bit, seeming to spread in unexpected directions organically.  When something jumps out of the ether, the banjo and harmonies on “Go East,” for instance, it’s that much more startling.  I love records that walk the fine line between subtle and overt.

If I were addressing my readership today instead of you fellows, I’d give Family this ultimate endorsement:  my wife likes it.  We had vegetarian beef stroganoff for dinner last night and I had the record on while I cooked and while we ate.  Mrs. Citizen not only left the record playing, but commented positively on a couple of tracks.  (She’s notoriously picky and, generally, only listens to records that are good.  So.)

To sum up, thanks for Family and best of luck delivering it to the world.  For your third record, I’ll plan better and bang out 2000 words.  (Unless you release it while I’m working on my dissertation.)  Drop me a line if you’re in Cleveland.

Bests,

Brian

P.S.  Your press photos are sweet.

(Editor’s note: If you’re not in Le Loup, you might not have heard “Beach Town” yet.  It is amazing and indicative of the material on the rest of the record. Le Loup already knows that, but hopefully they stopped reading after the post script.)

Le Loup – Beach Town

Pre-order Le Loup at insound.

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Rating: 5.5/10 (2 votes cast)

Editor’s Note:  Albums pile up quickly around here, and it’s difficult sometimes to maximize output and get our stamp on every album we enjoy.  In addition, we also have to work backwards a bit to put our ears to albums we miss.  Today’s post rather blends these two ideas together. The Entrance Band’s self-titled release last week completely missed me.  Completely aware of Guy Blakeslee’s stellar Prayer of Death album, I was both mildly upset this didn’t hit my radar in advance yet excited to evaluate it with a critical lens.

The Entrance Band – Self-Titled

Let’s assume for a moment that I’d never heard of Guy Blakeslee, completely unaware of his staunch back catalog of gripping blues-rock heraldry.  Prayer of Death was spectacular, and several seminal songs still get regular repeat nods for me when the mood suits. But let’s pretend I walked into this record wearing nothing but my birthday suit with a clean palate and untainted or biased ears.  Let’s also assume that I’m not an avid reader of album-slamming websites who only base content in comparison with past output.  Earlier today, I was involved in a short but useful twitter discussion with @daverawkblog and @igifconnor, editors at two of our favorite blogs, I Guess I’m Floating and Rawkblog.  Our discussion hinged around the effectiveness of musicians inundating the ether with anything and everything they compose.  Perhaps it’s a giant leap to bring Bob Pollard into this particular discussion, but the guy has launched four completely satiating albums in one calendar year.  The central argument is whether or not bands should dial it back and hone their craft in the effort to produce an album of merit every few years, or simply fire them out as soon as a collection of tracks is birthed.  There’s not going to be a lot of agreement in the room either way here, as someone’s dud is someone else’s masterpiece, which really lends itself to philosophical debates over the definition of valuable art.  Does the Circus Devils release from earlier this year have filler?  Absolutely.  Does this make it less valuable?  I’m not so certain.

Blakeslee’s newest release steers far away from recognizable patterns of old and unearths a more echoed and full-bodied stab at a wild conglomeration of blues, pop, and arena rock.  This shifts away from darker ouevres recognizable in past output, and regardless of initial impression, this is not entirely a bad thing for Blakeslee.  Still present are plenty of shifting arrangements, soaring, screeching bluesy guitar riffs, and heaps of gutty grime.  In this mode, Blakeslee keeps one foot in his past and, at times, it works beautifully.  The throwback grit of mid-sixties psychedelia is the backdrop for most tracks and this serves as a launching point for some of Blakeslee’s singularity and lofty guitar work.  Blakeslee is a guitarist and even from the initial ten seconds of the album’s opener, “Lookout!” it’s obvious that this will be omnipresent.  What’s starkly different from previous work, however is a much stronger pop aura presents itself throughout.  As I mentioned in the opening paragraph, this would be entirely sufficient for listeners who are not aware of Blakeslee’s solo work.  What stands here is a raucous and busy psych-pop record with enough sneer to warrant repeat plays.  In comparison to Prayer of Death, however,  a dilemma unfolds because the two differ so greatly in style.  Nowhere in the rules of artistic expression does it say that consistency is required, and if anything here, Blakeslee’s giant left turn in sound signifies some musical testicles.  Admittedly, there are a couple of slips, namely the reworkings of the seminal tracks from previous releases.  “Grim Reaper Blues” is an absolute gem from Prayer of Death and this new version comes out of the gate with entirely too much polish; it’s important to note, however, that there are no claims on this newest release that it’s an extension of anything he’s done previously.  There’s a hard to pinpoint intrigue and catchiness to this new sound, and when enjoyed without the knowledge of previous efforts, I have no problem reccomending this as well spent purchase.

the-entrance-band

Another facet of Blakeslee’s signature that is still working well here is the lack of brevity.  The tracks, partcularly “Still Be There” and “Sing for the One” waste little time fastening guitar antics and bluesy pop together with flourish.  At the same time, tracks are lengthy and the album requires patience to digest in one sitting.  Textured arrangements are ripe here, and regardless of personal preference, it’s easy to locate positive aspects of Blakeslee’s new emphasis on his backing band.  Essentially the value of this album will boil down to how easily a listener can let go of previous expectations.  I’m still on the record as enjoying Prayer of Death and it would do Blakeslee well to return to the more intimate aspects of this sound.  However, there’s a snarky respect I have for bands that step outside their expected output, even if I don’t identify with the changes as quickly.  This new effort is for rock fans, hands down, and my suggestion is to snag the album and go into it without pretense or expectations.  No doubt, this will wind up many iPod repeat listens this year.  Enjoy the reworked version of “Lookout!” from their 2003 release.  If you’re a fan of the original version of this track, hold onto your seatbelts.

The Entrance Band – Lookout!

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Rating: 10.0/10 (2 votes cast)

throw a stone - get it

You can’t throw a rock in Cleveland without hitting Beaten Awake.  Since our launch in January, we’ve seen the Kent natives open for Heartless Bastards and Crocodiles. (And one other act, I think, but it escapes me.  Little help?)  In the next couple of months, they’ll warm things up for Built to Spill and Meat Puppets when those acts blow through Cleveland.  The band’s second record will be out on Fat Possum soon, featuring production work from Patrick Carney (you know, the Black Key that isn’t Dan Auerbach).  In short, Beaten Awake have been on the Cleveland radar for awhile.

It’s been clear from the first time we caught them that Beaten Awake was full of talented dudes, but it’s always seemed to us that they’ve been a step away from putting it together.  There are points during their sets when you hear a snatch of something really startling, but it’s always seemed like a kind of promising triple-A first baseman kind of thing.  The lead single from the upcoming record both confirms our suspicions that these cats know what time it is and implies that the day that Beaten Awake put all the pieces together is on the horizon.  It’s a three-minute nugget of sweet, synth-fuzz, wistful lyrics and a strong, emotion-laden conclusion.  We’re stoked to hear the rest of Thunder$Troke (which might not be the hottest name for a record, but whatever), because another local band that rocks is always a good thing.

Beaten Awake – Coming Home

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The Beachland Tavern was pretty packed last night, especially considering it was a Monday. I’ll admit being surprised by this, particularly in light of the disagreement I’d had with another friend the day before about how attendance for last night’s A Hawk and a Hacksaw show would be. She said it would be busy, I said it wouldn’t be. After all, The Horse’s Ha show was on a similar night and it was totally dead, and that these two bands ought to be attracting the same kind of crowd. The same exact crowd. She said it would be busy and that while she didn’t know The Horse’s Ha, she did say that A Hawk and a Hacksaw had opened for Andrew Bird a while before and that would prove the difference. I didn’t think that would be the case.

I was wrong.

I had forgotten the hipster factor.

The crowd was thick with them last night, raising the temperature of the room at least 10 degrees as well as that terrible trend of indignance I do my best to keep bottled up but don’t always succeed at restraining.

Jeremy Barnes and his fellow performers did their thing and they did it well. Barnes is a proficient accordion player, and Heather Trost is even better on the strings. My favorite dude in the band was the tuba player, though, perhaps because in my own brass band days I was pretty handy with that instrument myself. The foursome (which also included a trumpet player) played hard and inspired and with sincerity. The sound was not gimmicky in the least – you can tell that Barnes breathes and lives for the culture of that part of the world and respects it deeply. I like that and was happy to see it come out in their performance. It all went so well and so real, in fact, that had you closed your eyes, you’d have been able to convince yourself this was actually a Bulgarian/Turkish/Hungarian folk group on some State Department sponsored cultural exchange.

Only it wasn’t. It was a bunch of white folks from the USA playing their best (and laudable) interpretation of that music. That’s fine – nothing necessarily imperialistic or opportunistic there, and as noted above, they do a pretty good job of paying homage to their sound’s origin. But, take away the Neutral Milk Hotel cred and the frontman’s slashing cop ‘stache, and as I perhaps too cynically said to my pal at the show, these guys would be a band marching in a small-town Gypsy Day parade. And there wouldn’t have been a soul in the room.

What struck me as a bit imperialistic and opportunistic and definitely gimmicky was the audience. Decked out in their thrift store flannel finest, what are the odds that these same folks would’ve attended the aforementioned hypothetical State Department tour? None. They certainly wouldn’t be pulling the dick move like the dipshit from one of the opening bands, the chubby dude with the bad hair, all drunk and doing his mocking version of a generic Eastern European folk dance based on something they hazily remembered from a childhood viewing of Fiddler on the Roof. (Speaking of which, can I give a shout-out to Topol? That dude seriously rules. He was one of my father’s heroes when I was a small child and I have fond memories of afternoons of watching him on video tapes on sluggish Sunday afternoons.)

topol as tevye