Tag Archive: Park the Van


C.D. Singles Club #71 – The Pharmacy – Coldest Morning Light/WAYDWL

Filed Under: New Music
Feb.23, 2010

There’s something like three inches of ice coating my driveway this morning, a thick, angry rime of winter caking the windshield of my car.  As I listen to the drone of a thousand ice scrapers (shck, shck, shck), clearing the way for the morning commute, I find my mind wandering to thoughts of warmer locales.  There are places (I understand intellectually) where the sun shines more often than it doesn’t, where “snowstorms” and “freezing rain” are merely ideas from children’s books, where duck boots aren’t required attire for five months of the year.  Staring at the heavily drooping tree branches, long since rid of their verdant foliage, now caked with damnable ice, I ask that age old rhetorical: “Why the hell do I live someplace where the weather is this shitty so frequently?”  Then I remember: Cleveland (Ohio, really, but whatever) is the heart of it all, maybe never more so than in winter.  The intrepid spirits of my friends and neighbors are steeled by our cold winters.  Our museums and restaurants and dive bars and bookshops and parks are all more inviting when winter lets loose his icy blast.  You can’t really relish a steaming cup of coffee at Presti’s, shared with your oldest friend, in Florida, right?  You can’t appreciate the warm glow of summer when it is yearlong, can you?  Californians don’t get that surge of adrenaline and joy on the first warm day of spring, because that day happens everyday.  I’ll keep Cleveland, with its constant reminders that time passes, seasons change, the sun returns.

And.  Inhabitants of colder climes can always cover themselves in sun-drenched records.  On days like these, when it is easy to forget that June is around the corner, there are few things as soothing as a band like The Pharmacy.  We have two tracks from their most recent effort, Weekend (out March 9 on Park the Van) this morning, both of which are packed with a fuzzed out, garage swagger that reeks of warm weather.  The jangly, mildly distorted vocals (vaguely reminiscent of something like The Shondells), the guitar riff on “WAYDWYL,” and the hazy keyboard line on “Colest Morning Light” are all redolent of beaches and scantily clad fillies.  Dig a little deeper and there’s a refreshing layer of self-analysis and ennui that I can definitely get down with as well.  The rest of the record is packed with tracks of similar quality and tone; Weekend gets our full endorsement.  There are some tracks that work in a softer vein (the delightful and delicate “Stoner Girl” springs to mind), some that really push the garage rock influence button (the drum line in “My Business” is straight off a Zombies record), some that damn near sound like early The Who (“Wait in Vayne” would work as  a b-side for “A Legal Matter.”)  All told, you should be in line at your record shop on March 9 for this one.

If you’re someplace cold, wrap these two songs around you like an electric blanket.  If you’re someplace warm, kiss my rosy ass.

The Pharmacy – WAYDWYL

The Pharmacy – Coldest Morning Light

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Giant Cloud – Old Books – EP Review (plus a little extra)

Filed Under: New Music
Jan.20, 2010

If you’re a longtime reader, you’re probably familiar with our ongoing love affair with New Orleans’ Park the Van Records.  It’s pretty rare that PTV puts out a record that isn’t up our street.  Floating Action, Golden Boots, The Peekers, Generationals and (although they’re now with ANTI) Dr. Dog are all PTV artists that tickle our collective fancies in one way or another.  (There is some internal variation amongst us dicks; James is probably our hardest core Golden Boots supporter, while I’m on a bit of an island with my unabashed Peekers-ophilia, but you get the idea.)  Suffice it to say that when we caught wind of a new artist on PTV, we got excited.  Our anticipation was rewarded with a titillating  EP from newcomers Giant Cloud.

Old Books is a twenty-six minute amalgam of a whole mess of comforting genres, resulting in an insulating listening experience that both soothes and agitates in equal measure. (If I had to stamp a label on it, I’d go with  quasi-psych folk with a strong helping of the acoustic ambient.)  There’s a certain sonic density to the five songs on Old Books that belies its lightness; there’s a lot of sound to parse through, but none of it is particularly loud.  The band’s moniker might offer the best description of their sound; drifting through a giant cloud would provide a thick, impenetrable surrounding, but would be composed of the lightest of elements.  The sound of Giant Cloud is one to get lost in, drifting among the often angelic vocals and pillowy, semi-symphonic soundscapes.

The songs on Old Books generally take their time to develop, meandering across several minutes, finding a groove and rolling with it on occasion.  It’s only an EP, but three of the songs clock in at over five minutes, so there’s a kind of semi-albumish feel going on.  The best songs all have a distinct flourish of some sort; “Strange Peaches” snaps out of a somnolent march into a frenetic, near-ragtime acoustic explosion.  “Old Soul,” the stellar, rambling closer is almost a waltz through the middle section, but grows an almost vaudevillian set of balls towards the end.  It’s the kind of EP that builds excitement for the band’s future work; they’re getting ready to record a full-length, which I’m already eager to hear.

We’ve got two tracks below from the EP that offer a solid taste of what the band is about.  The intertwined male/female vocals that stand out on “Fingernails” are all over the record, as is that fuzzed-up acoustic shimmer.  “Rainbows,” the EP’s opener, offers an indicative sample of the emotional tenor of the record; that equable tone is all over the rest of the tracks.  The tempo shift around the three minute mark is a killer example of the chamelonic nature of many of the songs.  If you dig these, you’ll dig the rest.  Even better, you can grab it here for one single American dollar (I’ll assume this is a limited time thing, so get on it).

Giant Cloud – Rainbows

Giant Cloud – Fingernails

In other news, you might have noticed that I’ve been curiously mum about the recent release of Vampire Weekend’s sophomore record.  I’ve been public about my deep anticipation for Contra and have wrangled in this forum with the generalized bad taste “Horchata” left in my mouth and the resplendent glee I got from “Cousins.”  I’d hoped that Contra would be pakced with a “Cousins” vibe and bereft of the bloated self-importance that plagued “Horchata.”

I haven’t written about Contra yet because we only like to tell you about records that we like.  Our express mission is to avoid the kind of petty dismemberments that many blogs traffic in.  It is easy to say mean things about marginal art.  I could bang out a nasty review that belittles music that I find distasteful with ease.  (Believe me.  We lob out nasty jokes in the email all the time.  We keep those in house cause we’re classy, but we’re not shy amongst ourselves about identifying things we don’t  like.) But.  Where would that get us?  I’d piss off someone who’s done something I’ll never do (even the worst record is more than I’m musically capable of) and you wouldn’t have any new records to listen to.  We want to spread the word on stuff that blows our minds.  We’ll leave the snide shit for P4K.

That said, “Cousins” is a great song.  So is “White Sky.”  Those tracks held onto the traits that I loved about the self-titled record: a certain brashness that’s not overbearing, a willingness to synthesize foreign sounds and vibes into a western idiom, a liveliness that served to ammeliorate any tendency towards smugness and, more than anything else, a distilled bit of joy and fun.  There’s (maybe) one song that you can’t dance to on the self-titled record.  “Cousins” and “White Sky” encourage the same things that many of the old songs did.  I’ll leave the rest of the  new record without the same ringing endorsement and leave it at that.

I’ll part with the hope that this is a bump in the road.  But.  Some bands have one great record in them.  No matter how I feel about Contra, I will be spinning Vampire Weekend forever.  (Justin’s poked some fun at me for this, but this is, ultimately, how I judge records.  Will I listen to this in 20 years?  The self-titled record is a homerun play for my retirement party.)  The musical landscape is littered with Icarus-like bands that flew close to the sun before crashing to the earth.  I’ll hope for the best for the third Vampire Weekend record, but I fear the wax is melting.

I’ll leave you with a track to remind you how great this band can be.  Remember how excited this made you the first time you heard it?

Vampire Weekend – M79 – Daytrotter Session

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The High Strung – Ode to the Inverse of the Dude – Album Review

Filed Under: New Music
May.11, 2009

The High Strung

Park the Van Records is one of our favorite little bluesy hippie labels, and maybe it’s because we featured three or four of their bands in the last week of April that we really fell behind on our listening pile.  Detroit trio, The High Strung, dropped Ode to the Inverse of the Dude quietly on April 21st and, regretfully, we weren’t here to get the word out ahead of time.  There’s an old adage in the world of education that proposes any mistake or flaw can easily be corrected the next day in the classroom.  We’ll side with this philosophy and review the record a few weeks after its release because, bluntly, it’s that good.

Ode to the Inverse is a rich and textured journey of eclectic folk and and sing-a-long classic rock extremely worthy of grabbing if you haven’t yet.  The trails of classic rock have been worn a ton, especially recently, but the entire ethos of the record traps just about everything cool, heartwarming, and fun from those old records Dad passed down.  The first track of the album establishes a motif not abandoned for the remainder. “Standing at the Door of Self Discovery” is retro, the entire band singing along, popping with life and old-timey jangle.  Chad Stocker’s strummy guitars and mild dives into psychedelic 70′s modes sit behind it all.  The vocals are the central focus but diversity of instrumentation signifies talent.  Many tracks aren’t easily shaken from the membrane and require repeat listens.  It’s important to note that there are no patents listed on great music and The High Strung is well aware. The sound is rooted in old school good times and campfire revelry.   Slowed down acoustic folky tunes like “I Got Your Back” are staples on the record.  ”When the edges of sleep surround you, Baby, I got your back.”  Endearingly positive in tone, the lyricism of tracks like this will lift your spirits and mesh beautifully with the changing spring weather.  This is an album you so desperately want to hear at this time of year, as the band doesn’t rely on sludgy distortion to get the vibe across to listeners.  If the Mamas and Papas were still around, they’d be signed with Park the Van and they’d be touring with The High Strung.

There are flashes of late 70′s disco and super large arrangements throughout the record, as well. “Real Stone” is a track getting multiple plays for me and it’s disco infused classic rock includes a wildly unique vocal delivery with dissonant but palatable hooks.  A soft and simple drum machine cadence keeps time and rocks this out.  There are splatters of some of our most timeless 60′s and 70′s memories bolted together with coolness.  In the above mentioned song and “Out of Character,” early Roger Daltry and the Who (minus the loud power chords) are not far-fetched references. “Bad with my Hands” is the peak of the record, fleshed out as a large sprawling and shifting opus with synthesizers, drummer Derek Berk’s huge cymbal crashes, triangles, and beautifully delivered vocals by Josh Malerman.  There’s a big nod to The Walkmen here with regards to large, orchestral kettle drum sounding rock, but imagine that concert hall sound with a more tightly arranged structure.

The High Strung Live

Producer David Newfeld (Broken Social Scene) had the band record the album in a church-turned-studio and the brilliant mixing and recording jolts listeners from top to bottom.  The largeness mentioned in the previous paragraph is by design, of course, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to digest that this album is rooted deeply in emotional delivery and artistic expression.  Park The Van’s website describes this as The High Strung’s most expansive record to date and we’re in complete agreement with that choice of vocabulary.  Large and epic choruses, lots of instrumentation, and charged lyrical content get tumbled together into a great rock record.  Spend time connecting with this thing emotionally rather than critically examining all of its parts and you’ll be catching all the right pieces Newfeld and the folks in the band intended.

It’s no secret to anyone in our biz, but this is going to be a huge Summer for great music, and the last few weeks have seen this blossom begin.  The late April and early May releases are setting an early tone that will be difficult to keep pace as we move through the Summer months.  There’s a lot to get into with Ode to the Inverse of the Dude and we even took a few weeks to fully wrap our brains around it.  Check out “Bad With My Hands” below and pick this one up.  In Cleveland, spring doesn’t come all at once, but when it does, it hits like a train.  In the last track of the album, vocalist Malerman sings, “You told me I was the most lively guest at your party.  Don’t you know I’ll be there again?”  This is an excellent sentiment.  I know the record will sit in my playlist all season.

The High Strung – “Bad With My Hands”

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Floating Action – Floating Action – Citizen Dick Album Review

Filed Under: New Music
Apr.14, 2009

floating_action_coverThe first three tracks on Floating Action’s debut (it’s more of a pseudo-debut, but we’ll get to that bit later) lay out, to a large degree, what the album is about, aesthetically, sonically and thematically.  The first song, “50 Lashes,” is a shuffling, vaguely twangy ode to emotional flagellation.  It’s dripping with homespun, warm touches, despite the fairly bleak subject matter; there’s a sweet, recurring guitar jangle, brushed drums, ethereal and angelic “ooh”s in the background and, in general, a feeling that the song was recorded in a room with hardwood floors by eight or so musicians all locked into a singular groove.  The second track, “Marie Claire” takes the country shuffle of the first song and subtly converts it into a folky dance track; the pervasive bass line, jangly guitars and crooned chorus sound like a subversion of a Dion song.  It’s a thoroughly modern take on the kind of song that would fit into the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance from Back to the Future. The third song in this revealing and stellar opening triumvirate is “To Connect,” which slows down a bit from the first two tracks, working in a distinctly more contemplative mode.  While each of these first three tracks bears some fingerprint of country music, this one is the most overt, with a killer slide guitar solo in the middle of the track and harmonized vocals that drip with backwoods character.  This shifty nature, an easy movement amongst various genre, while keeping one foot in the mountains, is a hallmark of the record; the songs all draw from slightly different periods or concepts, but they all, to greater or lesser degree, hang their hat somewhere south of the Mason Dixie line.  Further, these three songs, and for the most part the rest of the record, dance around relationships, both romantic and otherwise.  Lastly, each of these three tracks sounds like the product of a finely tuned group of musicians, all working in concert with grace and muscularity.  That’s where things get a little weird.  It sounds like, at the very least, a quintet, but Floating Action is just one dude.

Floating Action is Seth Kauffman.  He is solely responsible for the writing, performing, recording and producing an album full of killer material (with the exception of a few background vocals and one bass line).   It’s his third full-length album, but his first under the name Floating Action.  We’ve seen this solitary genius move on other records this year (Say Hi and Telekinesis leap to mind), but this one might have the richest sound.  I love that Say Hi record, but it sounds, after a few listens, like the work of one guy; there’s a consistency to the tracks that isn’t as present on Floating Action.  Kauffman is clearly immensely talented and doesn’t sound like the same guy on a lot of these songs.  The guitar solo on “Say Goodbye” sounds nothing like the one on “Edge of the World,” but both are awesome.  The vocals drift from pointed and overt (“Don’t Stop Loving Me Now”) to wispy and passive (“So Vapor”).  Even the songs themselves don’t sound like the product of a single brain; “Cinder Cone” sounds like the one song a tight band lets the wildly eccentric drummer sneak onto an album (“Hey man, I’m not just back here playing these skins all day.  I’ve got my own material.  I write songs too.”)  Overall, the level of talent and chameleonic ability that seep through on the record are both amazing.  It’d be a great record if it was the product of five dudes; it’s a more staggering acheivement because it’s the product of one.

The album, while solid top to bottom, does have some distinct highlights.  You could put the first three songs described above on repeat and happily let your stero go for awhile.  Past that, the organ-driven pulse of “Don’t Stop Loving Me Now” is infectious and catchy.  The overt weirdness of “Cinder Cone,” especially the sitar-laced part II is also a personal favorite.  It’d be a safer bet to put out an album that only had accesbile toe-tappers;  I like the risk implied by tracks like “Cinder Cone.”  “Dying Punch,” strangely reminds me of Medeski, Martin and Wood.  It’s probably the eclectic percussion sound on that track (any time somebody brings Billy Martin to mind, that’s high praise), but the recorder solo also sounds like something MMW might lob out into the ether.  The quality of the album is such that individual listeners are likely to have different favorites than mine; the number of ideas that Kauffman taps imply that lots of people are going to like the whole record, but each of them will like it for diferent reasons.

Floating Action is on Park the Van Records, which is on a bit of a hot streak:  Dr. Dog’s Fate was on our Best of 2008 list (and might be the record from last year that I listen to the most, probably beacuse Mrs. Citizen loves it so much), The Peekers and Golden Boots have both put out great records this year and the very promising Generationals just signed up.  Floating Action fits into that line of solid work pumping out of PTV; it’s an album worth your attention and which will endear itself to you quickly.  Enjoy “50 Lashes” below and a killer live version of “Don’t Stop Loving Me Now.”  You can grab Floating Action when it hits the streets on April 21, and can also get more live material here.

“50 Lashes” – Floating Action

“Don’t Stop Loving Me Now” – Floating Action – Live

Pre-order Floating Action from Insound.

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Generationals – New Band, New Song, New Album – Citizen Dick News Alert

Filed Under: New Music
Apr.08, 2009

generationalscover

Generationals are good.

Ted Joyner and Grant Widmer (no relation to Charles, we’re assuming, because that dude is fictional), following the dissolution their previous band, Louisiana stalwarts and media darlings Eames Era, hunkered down and recorded a new record, packed to the brim with deeply catchy and hook-laden pop-influenced rock tracks.  Immediately following the mastering of the album, which they’d intended to release on their own, they serendipitously bumped into a Park the Van exec; after the label heard the album, Con Law, Generationals quickly joined the PTV roster. (I’m not employed by a record label, but I assume you don’t let a pitch this fat sneak by without taking a big cut at it.)  The album will be released sometime in July.

For a limited time, the album streams live here; a couple of clear highlights are the slinky guitar line and cacophonous, explosive chorus on “Bobby Beale,” and the hand claps, classic rock keyboard riff, funky horns and kitchen sink percussion of “When They Fight, They Fight,” both of which are going to have you chomping at the bit for the album’s release.  Catch a listen before the stream goes down.  It will give you something to look forward to in July.

We’re not going to hit you with a full-scale review right now.  We want you to wrap your brain around it without our input first.  Listen to the stream, form an opinion and then let it simmer in the back of your brain until the summer.  We don’t doubt that you’re going to be hearing a lot about Generationals in the immediate future.

We assure you that it’s good, but that’s all that we’re going to say.

We’re also pleased to release a track into the ether.  “Angry Charlie” is a Citizen Dick premiere.  I walked on a red carpet to my computer this morning, wearing  a tuxedo for this momentous event.  It’s a song that’s going to stick in your craw for a bit, so reserve at least seven minutes where you’re unoccupied.  You’re going to want to hear this one twice in a row.

“Angry Charlie” – Generationals

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Dr. Dog – Columbus, Ohio – Citizen Dick Bonus Coverage

Filed Under: Live Shows
Apr.07, 2009

drdoglive

We’ve got a confession.  We were holding back this morning.  We’ve got a killer snippet of audio from the Dr. Dog show last night.  Why didn’t we post it this morning?  Why did we post 1100 some odd words on the show and leave out the five minutes of sound that perfectly distill what this band’s like on stage?  Maybe we were being coy, making sure that you’re not just using us for our amazing audio clips.  Maybe we wanted to prove that we could evoke an image without giving you anything concrete to put in your ears.  Maybe we were getting all of our ethical ducks in a row.  Maybe we’re dicks.

In any event, you’re going to be happy now (You probably were before, but you’re going to be happier in a minute.).  You probably weren’t in Columbus last night.  You probably read the review and thought to yourself, “Geez.  I wish I knew what that sounded like, because it sounds like it sounded awesome.”  It did.  The mammoth energy coming from Dr. Dog is reflected by the crowd, shouting and clapping and stomping and singing along to the standout track “My Friend.”  Soak it in.  Then go catch it for yourself.  (Editor’s note: We borrowed the picture from here.  It’s better than the ones Brian took last night and we wanted to give the cat who took it credit.)

“My Friend” – Dr. Dog – Live at the Basement – Columbus, OH – 4.6.09

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Dr. Dog with Golden Boots – The Basement – Columbus, OH – 4/6/09

Filed Under: Concert Venues, Live Shows
Apr.07, 2009

Dr. Dog Sold Out

Spring Break came with impeccable timing this year. Brian and I both filled our briefcases full of student homework, shuffled out of the school doors and entered break with a little Dr. Dog and Golden Boots on the brain. Fate was on our top album list in 2008, and Winter of our Discotheque was one of the first Park the Van albums we reviewed in this new budding year. The fact that the double bill was going down in our state’s capitol, a mere two hours away, was an added bonus. The Monday night may well have been a weekend for us. We’re teachers and only get paid to work a measly 180 days of the year anyways.

The dimly lit Basement is an interesting Columbus venue, with a subterranean vibe enhanced by dark exposed brick and chain linked fences blocking off unfinished areas. Brian and I couldn’t come to a distinct conclusion as to whether these blocked off areas were indeed unfinished, or purposely constructed for ambiance. The low ceilings and strangely long bar area create two distinct sections to the hall. The stage area is super small and intimate, with a sunken floor immediately in front with enough room for about thirty noble fans willing to deal with elbow-to-elbow hispster nodding. (We stationed ourselves at ground level, just behind the lowered area and were constantly jostled by folks thinking they could squeeze into the tiny recess; they were all wrong, but we did get that old-timey sardine feeling.) The bar is more spaced out and spans from the diminutive stage area clear to the back. Our initial impression was that The Basement was more bar than concert hall, but when Golden Boots hit the stage it all made sense. The ownership of the club had intimate concerts in mind, and bands that play here are front and center playing their guts out for audience members just a few feet away.


Golden Boots

When we first rolled in, Golden Boots were knee deep in sound check and once we had found our spots, the band quickly decided the levels were close enough for government work and launched into louder and more provocative renditions of Winter of our Discotheque material. The five piece had two drummers, one playing the snare with a tambourine and the other banging mallets and sticks on the skins; the percussion kicked ass all set, and the album’s studio bells and whistles were recreated well with the two extra arms holding it down behind the scenes. Another flourish of the recorded work is the electronic beeps and pings, which Dmitri Manos was able to match with a keyboard synthesizer linked up to his guitar. The acoustic qualities of the record took on a more bluesy and muscular tone when translated live, and although the two sounds were markedly different we came to a solid conclusion. On one hand, this Tucson band’s studio work exhibits a tightly constructed effort of musical arrangement. The live sound, however, is grumbly and visceral. On the album, Golden Boots wears the finest business attire, but let down their hair and kick off their shoes when people ask them to play.

Golden Boots Live

Golden Boots is eclectic. Their sound has been described as alt-alt-country on previous efforts, and the overall sound is difficult to pinpoint. When they played songs like “Heatwave” and “Black and Blue,” however, a psychedelic blues tour-de-force leaped outward into the packed house. Dudes came to play ball and the audience did, too, with many fans belting out the lyrics line by line along with the band. Hand-claps and trippy solos drizzled the entire set until everyone was good and ready for Dr. Dog to take the stage; given the psych-rock edges to Dr. Dog’s work, Golden Boots both pleased the crowd and primed them for the next act. It should be mentioned that Golden Boots held their own entirely and we’d certainly hop on board to see them in a headlining role as soon as it happens.

Dr. Dog Live

From the moment they stepped on stage, it was clear that Dr. Dog were immensely talented, joyously energetic and a lock tight live unit. All three qualities were on display in the set’s opener, “The Ark.” Bassist Toby Leaman pulled gravelly vocals from his gullet before stepping back to lay down fat riffs while doing a shuffling jig, while guitarists Frank McElroy and Scott McMicken bounced around the stage; it was miraculous that they didn’t collide on the small stage, let alone mange to eke out a near telepathic level of musical unity; dudes have clearly been playing together for a while. (It probably sucks to play euchre with them.)

Everybody in the house was sweating after that first song; the joint was packed, people were grooving hard and the band was letting it all hang out. Dr. Dog was clearly in town to rock as hard as possible; the songs themselves are chockful of emotion and the band wrenches every drop of it out of them. It seemed that they were playing each song like it was their last shot at it. Songs that kill on record are, shockingly, better live. While they played some old favorites, like “Worst Trip, ” there was a clear emphasis on material from Fate. (Sadly, we did not retrieve a setlist, but our notes indicate that they played everything but “100 Years” from that record.) The songs on that album that hit the hardest, “Army of Ancients” and “The Beach” absolutely murdered live. When Leaman grabbed that “I’m sorry” in the middle of the former song, there wasn’t a neck in the house that didn’t have raised hairs.

Dr. Dog Columbus

Dr. Dog appears to know that their songs are good; they’re not doing a lot of fiddling with the songs themselves on stage; while they’re pumping in energy and fervor, they’re still hewing fairly close to the recorded material. What’s clear throughout is the level of sheer talent on display; many of the songs are intricate and complex, and Dr. Dog didn’t dumb anything down. McElroy shredded all night, perhaps most notably on the set closer “The Rabbit, The Bat and The Reindeer.” (That song, by the way was a perfect closer, big and bold with sing-alongs and hand-claps.) The multiple part harmonies were also sweet throughout, dancing behind both McMicken and Leaman with aplomb.

Dr. Dog Concert

Leaman wrapped up the set by announcing “We’re going to play a few more and let you get on with your week.” This summed up the evening fairly well. Dr. Dog and Golden Boots are both working bands; you get the sense that they’re lunchpail kind of acts, going to the office, kicking out the jams and then packing up for the next town. We’re sure that wherever they are tomorrow night, they won’t leave anything on the stage. You’ll leave sated.

“Love is in the Air” – Golden Boots

Grab some more Golden Boots at Insound.

“Worst Trip” – Dr. Dog

Round out your Dr. Dog collection at Insound.

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The Peekers – Life in the Air – Citizen Dick Album Review

Filed Under: New Music
Mar.10, 2009

thepeerkesI can’t stop listening to The Peekers.  I’ve been going with the long-winded introductions of late (See the Say Hi review.  Jesus.  Where was my editor on that one?), but The Peekers require nothing more erudite than that simple endorsement.  I walk my dog, I throw on The Peekers.  I clean my house, I throw on The Peekers.  I play cards with Mrs. Citizen, I throw on The Peekers.  When I’m not listening to The Peekers, I’m singing their songs in my head; most of the tracks on their upcoming debut full-length Life in the Air, are of the popcorn stuck in your teeth variety.  Listen to “Close Your Eyes” as you read; I challenge you to stop humming the melody for the next three hours.

The Louisiana sextet are described by Park the Van as the label’s first “second-generation” band, drawing influence from Philadelphia stalwarts like Dr. Dog and The Teeth.  There is a distinct mid-sixties pop-rock vibe to the album which could be attributed to the invisible hand of those acts.  There’s also a lot of coincidence with recent darlings of the indie rock world, in that Life in the Air recalls last year’s She & Him album and, to a lesser degree (strangely), The Fleet Foxes.  The She & Him line is an easy one to draw, as the lilting vocals of  Brittney Maddox and Aubre Bauer recall those of whatever that actress’s name is (but in a far less twee fashion).  The Fleet Foxes bit is more oblique and, almost certainly, less concrete.  The Fleet Foxes record, in large part, was about the majesty of harmony; that’s also the case here.  The Peekers list four members m on vocals and there are many instances when they’re all singing at once, intertwining their co-ed voices with masterful precision, but producing warmth instead of cold perfection.  In this sense, they hit a bit of a Mamas and Papas key as well, although not quite as grandiose and/or pompous. (I’m not hating on Mama Cass or anything, but “California Dreaming” is a bit full of itself, isn’t it?)

The vocals are often the star of the show here, but the instrumentation is lush throughout as well.  A half churchy/half psychedelic organ anchors many tracks, laying down chords and fills that heighten that mid-sixties atmosphere.  The bouncy high notes in “Concrete Feet” and the circus-calliope-eqsue riff at the front end of “My First Surprise” would make Ray Manzarek beam with pride.  While guitars often take the backseat on the album, the towering intro, wailing choruses and squealing solo on “Meet You in Produce” are top-notch; it’s one of the best songs on the album, delving into slightly more nefarious territory with an evil, fuzzier organ sound and bluesier stomp than the other tracks.  It fades out just as the organ and guitar start to dance around each other a bit; I’m betting it’s dynamite live, assuming they stretch that conlcusion out into a lengthier freak-out.  There’s a ton to treat the ears on the record, including the year’s best glockenspiel solo on “Sinking In.”  Who doesn’t love some glockenspiel now and again?

With all that said, it’s the vocal work that sticks with you on the record.  The interplay on “Meet You in Produce” is jaw-dropping, with male and female vocals sparring and soaring over the organ and guitar.  There’s a lot of variety in the sound as well, from the shouted background vocals of “Close My Eyes” to the saccharine “ooh-ooh-ooh”s of “Sweet Singing Birds.”  The band sprung out of two romantic couples, adding another few members along the way, and that lovebirdishness is all over the record.  It’s impossible to listen to “Gather it All” without imagining an idyllic spring picnic, four smitten folks spreading a checkered tablecloth on crisp grass while singing tunes to keep themselves amused and occupied.  (editor’s note:  Brian sounds like a candyass here.  For the record, he’s excited about the Jesus Lizard at Pitchfork, so he’s not all rainbows and unicorns.)

Overall, it’s a remarkably consistent record, in that all of the songs work; while I’ve mentioned that “Meet You in Produce” is one of my faves, I could just as easily rave about the handclaps, tempo changes and angelic choruses of “Canoe Trip” or the swinging enthusiasm of “Close My Eyes” or the contemplative shimmer of “Favorite Love.”  It’s the reason that I can’t get the album off of my stereo.  There’s no filler here; it’s thirteen tracks without a wasted second.

Life in the Air hits stores on March 24, just in time for spring.  It’s a perfect record for the return of leaves and sunshine.  Pick up a copy and whistle and hum as you tend to your daffodils and such.

Pre-order Life in the Air at Insound.

“Close My Eyes” – The Peekers

“Gather it All” – The Peekers

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Diamond Jim’s Debut – Golden Boots – Winter of our Discotheque

Filed Under: New Music
Jan.28, 2009

Before I dive headfirst into this Golden Boots album, I have a few things that I need to confess.  First of all, I have not been as regular of a contributor as I would like these past few weeks, and for that I apologize.  Normally, the coolest guy involved in the site should be posting more often, so in the future I promise that you will be hearing from me a lot more.  And secondly, you should know that I pretty much decided that I liked this album before even listening to a single track.  Not because I am a big Golden Boots fan (in fact, this is the first of their records that I have really listened to), but because Winter of Our Discotheque might just be the coolest f’ing album title I have ever heard.  Sure that’s a bit superficial, but that’s how I roll and in this case my instincts were most certainly correct.

Golden Boots’ label, Park the Van Records, refers to the band as “alt-alt-country” and I think that really sums up the sound.  There is definitely a very strong connection to alt-country in the conventional sense, but it doesn’t take long to realize that there is a lot more going on here.  While the Americana influence is clear, most songs flirt more closely with the darker side of indie rock than they do with straightforward twang.  Add to the mix the psychedelic overtones and spacey, atmospheric feel and you have a band that has officially transcended the traditional alt-country sound and arrived at something very new and very pleasing to the ear.  Its an addicting sound, the kind where you listen over and over because you think you are picking up on the influences but you can never quite put your finger on exactly what they are.  Finding something this familiar yet still so new is rare these days, and it makes for a listening experience that is almost zen-like.  At this stage I have decided that the sound is a combination of The Light Footwork, Sparklehorse, and Mercury Rev with a hint of Neil Young and maybe a touch of Dylan here and there.  Sounds pretty cool, huh?

As for the album itself, Winter of Our Discotheque is a quick listen; partly because it is on the shorter side (10 tracks clocking in at about 34 minutes) and partly because the album transitions so seamlessly from song to song.  It’s one of those discs that ends just as you feel as though you are only on the 3rd or 4th track, prompting you to listen to the whole thing over again.  While the whole thing is solid from top to bottom, Winter of Our Discotheque really shines when you hit its dark, majestic midsection beginning with “Black and Blue,” a track that almost sounds like a whiskey-soaked and downtrodden rendition of a Belle and Sebastian tune (which is a very good thing, by the way).  From there it moves on to “Ghosts,” which may be my favorite track on the album, with a very spacey country vibe and lyrics that explain how “it’s hard to escape a town / that can smell the blood that you’re bleedin’.” “Knife” is another standout, with shades of early Neil Young shining through, and “Savior’s Sky” might be the best pure country tune I have heard in years.  Overall, there’s a lot to take in here in a short period of time, but once you do, it will have you coming back for more almost immediately.

Winter of Our Discotheque just dropped this past Tuesday, so you can go forth and purchase your own copy right now.  And if you live out west, I suggest catching them live at one of these fine venues:

1/31 – Tuscon, AZ- Plush

2/6 – San Diego, CA – Whistle Stop

2/7 – San Fran, CA – Hemlock Tavern

2/8 – Arcata, CA – Green House

2/9 – Olympia, WA – The Finger Complex (seriously, that’s what it’s called)

2/10 – Seattle, WA – Corazon

2/11 – Bellingham, WA – WWU Underground Coffee

2/12 – Portland, OR – The Artistery

2/13 – Reno, NV – Satellite Lounge

2/14 – Los Angeles, CA – Knitting Factory

2/15 – Phoenix, AZ  – Trunkspace

Golden Boots – “Love is in the Air”

*Comparisons may vary based on the listener, so feel free to let us know what you hear in the comments.

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