I suppose I should explain this bias I have towards this album. It’s an AA Bias if you will. I’m one of those people who will actually tell you an album changed their life. I’m not sure how it found it’s way to my iTunes library, probably from a music swap with friends, but one day Bondy’s softmore album When the Devils Loose started playing. I think I just hit accidentally hit play on my keyboard, and since A.A. is at the top of my iTunes, it started it. I listened all the way through the album.

It was a rainy day in October, I was pretty stressed out and well… the rest is history. From Mightiest of Guns to The Coal Hits The Fire, I really felt the album. I was transported from my dorm room in Edmond, OK to a Scott Bondy’s living room on a Mississippi night.

Music tastes different after you have yourself a nice big bowl of Bondy. He’s so peaceful, and the musicians he brings with him on his albums compliment him well.

So, needless to say, the idea of another album is pretty exciting. I haven’t forgotten about American Hearts, Bondy’s first album on his own, but it didn’t connect with my the way Devils Loose did. Besides, I wasn’t looking for a prequel; I was looking for a sequel.

Believers is the sequel I’ve been searching for.

The album starts strong. The Heart is Willing is one of the strongest tracks I’ve ever heard from Bondy, and it set a tone for the album that my heart understood a couple miles before my head did (I’m measuring that in miles because I since I do most of my “processing” in my car, it makes more sense to track it in terms of distance than minutes).

The ethereal ending to Heart is Willing goes quite before it leads off into Down in a Fire (Lost Sea). The opening riffs of this song are very Explosions in the Sky-ish, not only in sound but also mood. The song is very somber, very reminiscent of a Sunday evening in November after DST has ended. The track ends with about 45 seconds of delay and feedback effects. A bit different from what I’d expect, but it holds the mood and feels alright.

Skull and Bones is the first track I had to go back and listen to again. I normally like to do my first listen to an album all the way through, but I knew I had missed some stuff about the track and had to go back. The sound of the wind whispering, the harmonizing vocals, the light sounds of brushes on drum heads. The song is very cold. Cold like the first day in September when you should have brought a jacket, but you didn’t because technically it’s still Summer and well the low was only going to be 59, cold. It gave me goosebumps.

But here comes the turning point for the album. Bondy gives us a short break with 123 Dupoy Street and then he lays it on us with Surfer King, and boy does he lay it on thick. When the music swells in at about 3:05, you just ride the wave of sweet, sweet guitary goodness like a surfer king (see what I did there?). This is my favorite track on the album, by far. If you haven’t heard it, go listen to it right now over at NPR. It’s okay, I’ll wait.

After the strong swells and high tides, Bondy takes us on the road for Hiway/Fevers. When I close my eyes I imagine being a passanger in a car, hearing sirens, passing cars and just listening to the sounds of the road at night. Close your eyes, open your ears and free your mind. I have to be careful because it kind of feels like I’m going to be sucked into the song.

It’s not a surprise that the song Drmz has some of the most prominent percussion on the album. The song is a lot lower: in tempo, in tonality and in lyrics. Look at this line, “And if I said I believed in you / We still know what you would do/ Through the door into the blue, it burns.”  It’s a dark look at life, and it pulls me down a bit, so I’m just going to go to the next song.

The Twist has a very different sound. It sounds more like a hybrid of his older stuff and the softer stuff he did as a part of Verbena. I felt broadsided by this track the first time it came on. It was like a different album started playing. It’s a good track, but it doesn’t feel like a part of this album.

I always get nervous when I hit the title track of an album. What if it sucks? To me, I always assume that an album’s title track is the artist’s favorite song, otherwise why would they call it that? Rt. 28/Believers might be Bondy’s favorite song on the album. I don’t know, I didn’t send him or his representation an email to find. If it is however, it’s a great choice. All the qualities that made The Twist feel weird to me are resolved in Rt. 28/Believers, which is great since Bondy gives us seven glorious minutes of slide guitar and soft drums.

Silly name, serious music. Scenes From A Circus wraps up a brilliant third album. I think Rt. 28/Believers is a good ending in itself, but the gapless nature of these two tracks put together just makes it even better. So what I said a few lines ago about seven minutes of glorious wonder ends up being more like 11. The tempo slows, the end feels close. Bondy gives us a few last lyrics, and then its cue the 17 second fade.

This album is good, real good. I mean The Twist is a bit of a “twist” in terms of how the album feels start to finish, but it’s not a ruiner. It feels like it’s either in the wrong place in the lineup more than it feels out of place for the album itself. Either way, I guess I could say I’m a believer now. An AA Believer. #pleasedontbecomeatrendingtopic #whyamiwritinginhashtags

All that said, it is with strong personal bias that I recommend you should stop reading this article right now and go listen to Believers on NPR, or buy it on Amazon (MP3 / CD / Vinyl) or iTunes.

If you’re interested in hearing the album that “changed my life,” When the Devils Loose is on Amazon, iTunes and Spotify.

I hope your ears don’t mind the AA Bias. Ω

I’ve been a big fan of Cut Copy’s signature sound since the release of Bright Like Neon Love back in 2004. One of my first posts here on IHYEB was a review of the Melbourne electronic rocker’s second album In Ghost Colours. I wish I could have linked that post, but it was lost with a crash back in 2008.  Regardless, I love both albums a lot, as well as the countless remixes I’ve shared with you in the last few years. Next time I go back home I’ll be framing my Vinyl LP of In Ghost Colours in an album frame. So again, to say that I was excited for this album is a bit of an understatement.

Without further ado, let me recount my first hearing of Zonoscope.

The album kicks off with the song “Need You Now.” I really like the way it feels at 0:37 in the player below, just after the intro dies off. The song isn’t perfect, and for the exact reason I’m not exactly sure. I guess I could say that it feels like it hits way too late in the song. Let me explain, at 3:30 the song builds up, and then drops back to the semi-boring verse. I like the lyrics, but in an audial way, it stays pretty static most of the time. The song finally does “drop” closer to the 5:30 mark, but it left me feeling unfulfilled. I’m listening to the song at max volume on my system in my room and I didn’t get the feeling of euphoria when it dropped like I’d hope for it to. “Need You Now” was the one single I’d not heard before the album came out, and I was kind of sad that I started the album wanting more from one of the banner tracks.

Need You Now by cutcopymusic

Track 2 is the second single, “Take Me Over.” I feel like I bought this single about two months ago, and on the whole I was unimpressed with it. I’m still unimpressed with it, but don’t worry, the album is not even close to its climax. If anything this song has great remix potential, and some are already starting to make appearances.

Take Me Over by cutcopymusic

Track 3, “Where I’m Going,” I previewed a few months ago. I wrote that I felt it had a vibe akin to that of The Avalanches, Melbourne, Australia electronic sampling kings, and now I don’t feel that way so much. The song is so all over the place in terms of style, so much so that I can’t say it mimics one artist or another. It’s not my favorite track of the album. At this point, I’m concerned. I’m three tracks in, all singles, and not one has grabbed me yet.

Cut Copy – Where I’m Going by cutcopymusic

Thankfully, the album gets progressively better. I feel like the album hits the reset button with “Pharaohs & Pyramids”. The first three tracks are almost like trailers for a movie, but here’s when I begin to like this album. Lots of retro synth and tight reverb. It made me feel like a wallflower because I wasn’t dancing, but this all a good way to feel. This album, especially the middle part of it doesn’t sound like it was meant to be experienced sitting down. “Blink and You’ll Miss a Revolution” has one of my favorite moments on the album. The hook has a brilliant composition of sound, so much so that when I hear, ”Baby baby can’t you see / oh take it from me, oh take it from me /we’re on a path to eternity/ oh take it from me, oh take it from me,” I just start to feel like I’m in a club having a good time. I’ve seen youtube videos of the song live, and it doesn’t have quite the magic. I understand part of that is the fact that I was watching a video shot on an iPhone, but “Blink and You’ll Miss a Revolution” has so much complex sound that performing it live does sound like it would be hard to replicate the album feel.

“Strange Nostalgia for the Future” isn’t really a “song”, but it’s part of Cut Copy’s signature style. These short transition tracks make the world of difference in calculating the overall feel of an album. It makes a group of singles feel like a whole composition. So when it brings in my favorite song of the album, “This is All We’ve Got”, I know that the album is about to hit it’s prime. The song winds down and gaplessly turns into “Alisa”. This song has as similar feel to Bright Like Neon Love with less electronic feel and more instrumentation.

While there’s other tracks on the album I haven’t discussed I’m just going to skip them and go right into the album’s 15 minute long outro called “Sun God”. This is undoubtably the track that deserves the most attention, and definitely the most words. Now, I say that it deserves the most attention and the most of my review, but while listening to it, all I can think to do is sit back in my chair and stare at the ceiling in awe. This is by-far the best track on the album, and it’s a shame. What makes “Sun God” so good is that it is one big release at the end of the album. It covers the album’s climax, resolution, and denouement all in one track. I tried listening to it by itself, and it felt wrong. It felt like I cheated. If you want to watch a movie, you don’t skip to the good part, you have to wade through all of the building up, and that’s what the rest of the album is. We have to remember that track numbers and divisions are a convenience, not necessarily the way an album was meant to be listened to. So my plea to you, the reader, is that if and when you get a chance, enjoy Zonoscope in its entirety. Then, and only then, do I think you’ll get a full grasp of “Sun God”. (Extra Note: The editors of IHYEB do not condone drug use, but I’m pretty sure if you listened to “Sun God” while high your head might just explode.)

Now, let me wrap it all up. I’ll admit, it took me some time to warm up to In Ghost Colours, but as of right now I’m not ready to award Zonoscope the title of “My Favorite Cut Copy Album”. It’s good, and it will be considered among the best of the year’s electronic albums, but I have a special place in my heart for their previous work and I’ll just have to keep listening to Zonoscope for a while longer. Still, it’s worth picking up if you’re a fan of their previous works, or a fan of modern electronica.

Zonoscope is available wherever fine electronic music is sold  (Amazon (CD $9.99+S&H)/ Amazon MP3 (MP3 $5.99) / iTunes (AAC $7.99) / Modular People Deluxe CD/Vinyl $30+S&H), and as a nice little bonus Cut Copy has put up an hour-long mixtape. The mixtape is also a part of a contest, and if you are one of the first 5 people to name the tracklist of the mixtape you could win sweet prizes.

From CutCopy.net
We also have physical CDs available for the first 5 people who can guess the correct tracklisting. Send all attempts to info@punkdafunk.com. The first correct entry will also win a pair of tickets to the Cut Copy headline show nearest their hometown (Sorry, festivals are not included in this offer).

So Cutters get cracking if you want to win! The mix was posted yesterday and plenty of people have a headstart on the mix.

I hope your ears bleed while zoning out to Zonoscope. Ω

Connect the Dots by Stacy Clark was an incredibly fun singer/songwriter album that crept up on my play counts. The Suburbs by The Arcade Fire had some standout tracks, but I couldn’t completely connect to the alt rock ensemble’s overdone anthem. Teen Dream by Beach House was at times truly haunting, Down the Way by folksters Angus & Julia Stone was charming, and undoubtedly Contra by Vampire Weekend was a strong effort for the indie-pop troupe. Eyelid Movies by Phantogram had more sultry angst, catchy beats, and hooks than nearly any other album. And, folk mainstays Josh Rouse, Rocky Votolato, and Josh Ritter each put out respectable albums. Lastly, my number 11, just outside the magnificent 10, was Go by Jonsi. This album explores emotional highs and lows as well as the best Sigur Ros albums, and come quite hook laden to boot.

10. Good Old War – Good Old War. This folksy Philly trio reminds me a lot of a lighter-hearted Fleet Foxes. Their harmonies are tight and their story-telling is captivating. Check out my favorite track “That’s Some Dream”

That’s Some Dream

———————————-

9. Treats – Sleigh Bells. There’s no getting around the fact that this album is weird. But, I found its uniqueness refreshing and after letting it grow on me (substancially, I might add), I ended up really getting into the hardcore + beats + girl with beautiful voice combo. Standout track “Riot Rhythm” brings it home.

Riot Rhythm

8. Broken Bells – Broken Bells. I’ve always been a fan of James Mercer when I came across his team up with Danger Mouse man Brian Burton, I fell in love – quickly. The album borrows bits and piece from The Shins sound, yet making its own and keeping it interesting. It has impressive highs and lows and sufficiently enigmatic lyrics to warrant a spot in my top ten. My favorite track has to be “Ghost Inside”.

The Ghost Inside

7. Gorilla Manor – Local Natives. I was introduced to Local Natives through a free download of  ”Sun Hands” early in the year. I enjoyed the song, but didn’t see a need to investigate much further. Throughout the year, though, I kept seeing their name crop around LA (their hometown as well) with shows and eventually my interest was peaked enough to get Gorilla Manor. I definitely do not regret it. They are an indie rock outfit with hints of folk scattered here and there, which I love. Both catchy and smart, it’s a find.

Wide Eyes

6. Halcyon Digest – Deerhunter. It’s the dark mystique of Deerhunter that keeps me coming back. One of the artists of which I never tire and really connect. No song is overdone or skimped on. What impresses me is the album as a piece with just the right amount of ambience to tie it all together. They’re subtly inventive and never overwhelming.

Don’t Cry

5. Foreign Tapes – Parades. This album had me hooked from the beginning. The male/female paired vocal, ranging delicate to powerful guitars, and creative drumming did it. Really a captivating album with tons going for it. I’m surprised I haven’t heard more about this group. “Marigold” is a gem and really caps a well jelled album. With many favorites it was hard to chose, but enjoy another take-away – “Past Lives.”

Past Lives

4. Age of Adz – Sufjan Stevens. I’m a Sufjan fan and always look forward to how he’s morphed. His innovation is admirable and if it weren’t for his beliefs I think reviewers would be slobbering over him at every turn. When you consider Age of Adz in combination with All Delighted People, this guy did work this year. Truly a hero of the singer/songwriter, he, yet again, doesn’t disappoint. The album finishes especially well, and since “Impossible Soul” was too big to attach, enjoy “I Want to Be Well.”

I Want To Be Well

3. Tourist History – Two Door Cinema Club. This was my indie pop mainstay album this year. A definite “go-to” for a pick me up. The Irish Trio falls somewhere between the Arctic Monkeys and Passion Pit for me. This album is quick, smart, and energetic. No dull points, and no throw-aways. Really a great debut. “Something Good Can Work” is one of my favorite songs of the year.

Something Good Can Work

2. The Wild Hunt – The Tallest Man on Earth. One of greatest song writers of not only today but all time. At one point I actually found myself looking up what “cadejo” are. (It’s actually pretty interesting!) He’s a master of the story and a master of conveying emotion. His voice is raw, yet beautiful. I had the pleasure of seeing him live earlier this year and the experience really solidified it all for me. This will be an album I play for a long time. If you love Bon Iver, folk music, or just story telling, The Wild Hunt is a must.

King of Spain

1. High Violet – The National. Brilliant, moody alt rock. Few bands relay the human experience better than The National. It seems that with every album since Alligator, The National has been ebbing its way closer to my favorite of all time. Though the body of work doesn’t yet merit replacing Radiohead, if they have another decade keeping with this trend I don’t know if I could deny them the honor. It may take you a while to “get” The National, but the rewards are worth the wait. High Violet is about as real as it gets. I could honestly pick any song to put on here, and it took me a while to settle on “Anyone’s Ghost.” I truly do hope you enjoy.

Anyone’s Ghost

Bleed on friends!

Bradley

Take a listen to a few of my favorite tracks from Shadows & Shapes.  You can find the album on Emusic, Amazon, or iTunes.  It’s a great record, through and through, and hopefully this album is merely the tip of the iceberg.

I had the opportunity to interview Howard recently.Here are some of his thoughts on the album and what is to come.

IHYEB: Did you record this album yourself?

Adam: Yes and I played all of the music, except for the upright bass and cello throughout the album and the electric guitar on the whisper track.

IHYEB: Where did you do the recording?

Adam: Various places…mostly places at JBU and around Tulsa.  I think I used six or seven different pianos with the intent of capturing the character of the song in the character of the piano itself (that was the intent anyway).

IHYEB: How long have you been playing the piano? Did you teach yourself?

Adam: I started playing the piano mid-way into my senior year of high-school.  I borrowed a digital piano from a friend so that I could learn to play in order that I might be able to play at my grandmother’s wedding reception.  So, yeah I taught myself.

IHYEB: Have you ever had any formal musical training?

Adam: Not really…I had adrum lessons in the sixth grade (but I didn’t really learn how to play the drums until like 9th grade).  I also played the violin in my middle-school and high-school orchestras.  I don’t really do well with formal music, mainly because I can’t read music. I could probably learn if I applied myself, but I guess I never valued it enough (even though I am quite envious of people who formally understand music, especially of those who can sight read music really easily).

IHYEB: What was your inspiration for the record?

Adam: Life, I suppose was my inspiration…the dark side. It is about going to sleep at night and facing your fears and dreams and hopes and failures. It is about the figurative shadows and shapes in life, that may not be what we take them for…like the album cover, seeing the shadow of a lamp and thinking that it’s a ghost.

IHYEB: So what’s next for Adam Howard?

Adam: Well I sort of rushed this album because I told myself that I would release an album or EP by the end of last semester.  So I rushed it in order to keep the promise I made to myself.  But I have another album I am already working on that I am not going to rush. I’ll finish it when I figure out how to record in a manner that meets my liking.

Especially on I’m New Here, the poet’s first proper record in 16 years, which sounds like the Tibetan Book of the Dead as interpreted by William Faulkner as produced by Portishead. Still, that description underestimates the record’s touchstones, made by decades of artists that Scott-Heron himself influenced.

In fact, nearly a third of I’m New Here is cover songs (bold, considering the record doesn’t even spin for half an hour), but as blues standards, they’re the perfect canvas for Scott-Heron. All is cyclical with this raspy poet.

This is most obvious in the two parts of “On Coming from a Broken Home” that bookend the record. Lyrically, Scott-Heron sees just and vicious circles of morality: “If you’ve got to pay for things you’ve done wrong, uh, I’ve got a big bill coming,” he follows with a laugh on “Being Blessed (Interlude).”

That sort of casual introspection typifies I’m Not Here. It shows the poet also feels older than 60 – death looms ahead like a tall, scruffy pine and casts a shadow over all these song-poems.

Scott-Heron even anticipates his eulogy and mocks it in advance: “As every -ologist would certainly note, I had no strong male figure, right?” he says in the first song.

With much help from producer Richard Russell, I’m New Here is blues for the future. There are nods to folk, R&B, and hip-hop and some songs even recall dubstep, the most successful electronic movement of the past few years. But somehow all of it together makes for a lonely listen.

The best example is “New York Is Killing Me,” which is a classic blues tune recast in harsh streetlight. Russell uses cymbals, warped handclaps and a gospel choir to assemble I’m New Here’s darkest and best song.

If the record has a theme, it is uncertainty: in God (“if there is one,” he sneers, only to beg for His mercy a few songs later), in time (“Where Did the Night Go”) and in safety of any kind (“Running”).

But in his age, the poet is always certain of himself. “I was guided to get here,” he states, saying elsewhere, “I did not become someone different that I did not want to be.”

So while Gil Scott-Heron remains sure that his life was exactly what it was supposed to be, we remain sure of his genius. I’m New Here is an old-time record completely devoid of clichés, and one of the best records of this young year.

Of course, it’s all the brainchild of former Blur front man Damon Albarn, a challenging and prolific songwriter, and illustrator Jamie Hewlett. The duo stays busy with an endless roll of side projects, thus Plastic Beach, the group’s newest album, comes a full half-decade after the fluke commercial success of Demon Days.

Plastic Beach is a braver record in every way, especially in its bevy of guest spots. Albarn wipes Snoop Dogg of grit and leaves him alone in a sterile soundscape. He employs the influential mutter of former Velvet Underground singer Lou Reed in a barroom piano jam. Veteran rap troupe De La Soul makes “Superfast Jellyfish” the jam of the spring.

It’s worth noting that many of Albarn’s collaborators are washed up music legends. The word here is “rebirth.” He treats these musicians as actors in his giant production, and Plastic Beach proves him a brilliant director – he rouses unexpectedly great performances from almost all of them.

The secret to Gorillaz lies in this pluralistic approach, and Plastic Beach is its realization. It’s as if the shattered pieces of world culture washed up on a beach, and Albarn, with the help of some friends, was there to reassemble them in his own demented way.

Speaking of pollution, the muse is an imagined island, composed of all the ocean’s floating trash. Plastic Beach is as a concept album should be: strange and messy and full of wit. Hewlett’s stylized version of the future is impossible and idyllic. The main characters aren’t cartoon characters anymore – they’re environments.

The result is a great beached whale of an album, one that was really written for sunshine. Albarn has a knack for breezy, winding melodies, as heard in the title track and “Broken,” the record’s best song. Elsewhere, the charming, carbonated sound of the band’s 2001 debut bubbles to the surface. (“Superfast Jellyfish,” “On Melancholy Hill”)

Still, Albarn wrote more than 70 songs for this record, and some of that blubber remains, sandwiched between distinct pop gems. Mos Def’s contributions to “Stylo” and “Sweepstakes” are especially disappointing – the latter sounds like M.I.A. with the cream filling sucked out. Two other songs relegate the funk-cacophony of Hypnotic Brass Ensemble to musical wallpaper.

Regardless, it’s a thrill to hear Albarn evolve from rock star to curator. He’s become a socially conscious prophet and vital pop musician. Plastic Beach is an undeniable success, especially in timing – I can’t think of a better soundtrack for spring break.

To my credit, Similes is an impenetrable, arrhythmic fog. Matthew Cooper, the man behind the moniker, has a track record of ambient releases, a genre born in the space between transcendent and tedious.

Brian Eno, the musician widely credited for the creation of ambient, once wrote that the music “is intended to induce calm and a space to think.” In this context, Similes rushes to buy wallpaper and curtains before building a doorframe. Cooper, an obvious member of the Pro Tools generation, squanders fine-tuned production on half-hearted song fragments.

Still, Cooper knows the trappings of ambient music: soft tones, innocuous chords, slow tempos and no singing. He violates that last rule for the first time on Similes, but does so timidly by burying his tuneless mutter low in the mix. He should have known better.

He also should have known that chaining Similes to a single mood would trap the record inside its own murky aesthetic. These are drones, not songs. Repeating the same progression for 11 minutes (“Cease to Know”) is no longer experimental – it’s lazy and it leaves little room for evolution or enjoyment.

Even more constrictive is Cooper’s reliance on piano and back-masked guitar, which lays a soggy foundation for every song on Similes. “If the colors and the shapes were clearly more defined,” he sings in the finale, a condition he would do well to indulge.

Sadly, of all the emotions the record strains to evoke, the only apparent one is disappointment. Deep yearning should lead to action, and this is Cooper’s problem: his voice is all welled tears and no balled fists. Only a child could enjoy this sort of sad indulgence.

The result is a piece of music unsuitable for active listening. Ironically, Similes is a soundtrack to its own failure.

Although Odd Blood touches on styles from several eras of musical and artistic evolution, Yeasayer remains at its core a psychedelic band hat enjoys challenging itself.  Indeed the most spot-on description of their sound came from the three gentlemen themselves: “Middle Eastern-psych-snap-gospel.” Guitarist Anand Wilder steps up his game, innovating new and even more transcendent distortions for the ear’s pleasure.  “Strange Reunions” is a glorified jam session of which any Cry Baby critic would be proud. Bassist Ira Wolf Tuton proves he is certainly not afraid to fan the flames of experimentation; occasionally transforming his four strings into a digital flute like it is no big deal. The slow, tongue-in-cheek ins and outs of “The Children” display an unheard of grandeur for “that other string instrument” – the much-too-often ignored bass.  Vocalist Chris Keating shows the most noteworthy strokes of genius of the album; even if he is unwilling to admit it. Keating is the heart and soul of Yeasayer. He vents an increasing curiosity with synthesizers like a kid with a new toy on his hands, not quite fully mastering it before putting it to real use. Rolling and thumping through the thickets of raw poetry, the fatherly ballad that is “Ambling Alp” attests to Keating’s songwriting talent in case this whole keyboard business does not work out. No need for precautions though. The warped bass beats and oh-so-danceable ivory riffs of “Rome” form easily the best song of the album…and perhaps the year.

Often compared to the likes of Animal Collective, MGMT, and Grizzly Bear, Yeasayer despises the idea of “scenes” or any gathering of several artists dictating what sounds good or bad.  What sets these three musicians apart from other under-the-surface bands can be summed up with one word – chemistry.  As evident on their lovable, energetic La Blogotheque sessions, the members of Yeasayer know each other through and through, their strengths and weaknesses, their preferences and pet peeves. With only two songs under three minutes in length, this sophomore release proves that Yeasayer is no mere throwaway indie blip on the radar screen. Odd Blood begs for dissection, ushering forth new discoveries with every listen.

Grade: B-/B

For Fans of: Guster, The Shins, Liam Finn

I’m pretty surre I’ve heard the argument made that every album, first through eleventy-billionth, is a band’s most important effort. Essentially, if you put out a horrible album, it can kill your career. When you get to sixth, the pool for comparison thins, and (under certain circumstances) it becomes a success in and of itself. This is where we are with Spoon and their newest, Transference.

Now, as I thought of other bands with six or more albums, my mind was of course drawn to Radiohead and analogies ran wild (hence the title). In a very rough way, Spoon is in the same place Radiohead was in with the release of Hail to the Thief (bear with me). The major difference being, Spoon’s last two albums have been their most accessible, while Radiohead’s 4th and 5th efforts were almost intentionally alienating. Spoon has picked up a lot of steam since “Gimme Fiction,” including multiple songs being featured on NBC’s “Chuck.”  Accordingly, the boys were faced with a crossroad. A larger audience means more expectations.  A good band shakes them with style.  Radiohead (again same place, different circumstances) let loose and made the least accessible of their records with Hail to the Thief. Spoon, on the other hand, has taken a much more gradual step. (And no, I don’t think Spoon is better than Radiohead. Pshhh.)

On first listen, I was a little disappointed.  I kept waiting for the radio-esque single and killer hook along the lines of “Don’t You Evah” or “I Summon You,” but it never really came. I was guilty of wanting another Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, but I got something different, a little more cohesive and a little darker.  And while I think there is a stronger glue holding Transference together than previous albums, the same cohesion has made it less memorable. By no means is Transference a flop.  It has its own staying power, but it isn’t a catchy staying power.

Spoon’s bread and butter lies in not trying too hard, and they haven’t fled camp.  The Spoon of old is recognizable, just with a few new tricks. They’ve been evolving over time, think “The Ghost of You Lingers,” and in due course Transference contains just a few more “Ghost”-like tracks. There is some synth-percussion on “Who Makes Your Money,” strange vocal delays on “Is Love Forever?,” and mid-song “I Saw the Light” completely changes directions, but for the most part it works.

Considering where Spoon is in their career, Transference makes sense. If they don’t start broadening out, all of their quirks will become predictably unpredictable. The same thing that has made Spoon so likable (simple, low-fi pop), is also their handcuff.  There is only so much you can do with a buzzy guitar, drum, and an old upright piano. I see Transference as being a sort of stepping stone.  A stepping stone with substance.  Not my favorite album of the young year, but one I’m glad to have in my library.

You can also check out a listen of the new album at NPR.

The bump of dance music is here, but warm, strong and nearly unrecognizable. Four Tet, a.k.a. Kieran Hebden, has always culled interesting electronic music from a sea of eclectic rhythms and sounds, but Love is more focused. It’s the melodic light of his past work, refracted through years of experience.

And that experience is collective: Hebden’s mentor is legendary jazz drummer Steve Reid, who played with Miles Davis, James Brown and Fela Kuti. Hebden, clearly an apt pupil, benefits from all these influences.

“This Unfolds” turns something of a Beck throwaway into Maynard James Keenan in space. The songs are eclectic but together in quiet shifts in tone. “Circling” has chopped vocals in an Afrobeat rhythm and a charming bell pattern. Everywhere, Love rescues childhood nostalgia from whimsy.

Diverse as the Hebden’s sampled sources are, the glue of Love is a song structure unique to dance music. New sounds emerge right on beat. These songs forever add to themselves, building till the end of every song is a whirling, euphoric wave of sounds.

But from where did this newfound joy come? “Pablo’s Heart,” a 12-second recording of a child’s heartbeat recorded on a cell phone, is indicative of Love as a whole. It’s like a dance in celebration of new life. Maybe Hebden’s introspection has upgraded, expanded outwardly.

Shamelessly depicting such nuisances as melodramatic Nietzsche-crazed youths in “Giving Up The Gun” and the paradoxes of modern college students psyche in “California English”, lead singer Ezra Koenig coolly sidesteps the hallowed sophomore slump curse as any forward-thinking songwriter would.  Koenig relishes in his past follies, makes them intimate and personal – only now can he mock and poke fun without losing self-worth.  The occasional voice cracks of “Run” and the boyish shrieks and swoons of “White Sky” add to the comforting idea that growing up is not the same as accepting boredom and dull ennui.

Rostam Batmanglij seems nonplussed with his band-mate’s new direction and certainly has plans of his own concerning track arrangement, instrument selection, and even unexpected cross-genre influences (“Diplomat’s Son” features an M.I.A. sample that cleverly fills the soundscape between Koenig’s verses).  Much like a musical Kurt Vonnegut, Batmanglij boldly unveils new aspects of his creative style without reinventing his art to the point of disassociation.  He defiantly recommences the old signature marimba base beats that earned the band much negative feedback from the critical “authorities” of the day; yet display VW’s deep respect for some of the world’s most sincere music – West African percussion.

Despite being dubbed the “whitest band” two years ago (by none other than the founder of Stuff White People Like, Christian Lander), Vampire Weekend lashes back after a brief hiatus of recharging and realignment with Contra, a track list more like the intersection of experience and fun than the straight-as-an-arrow highway that forms most sophomore efforts.  Who needs music industry guidelines anyway?

Merriweather Post Pavilion

Fall Be Kind, the group’s new EP, remedies this by collecting the scrapped songs from the sampler-heavy Merriweather sessions that lean toward a darker aura. The production (dense as ever, with punchy bass and doctored harmonies on top) is the same, but these songs are more indulgent.

“Old ideas worth doing are taking their time,” Dave Portner sings on the opening “Graze.” Only this band would end their most commercially successful year with a release like this.

Simply put, the group takes chances. As a result, their releases are categorically uneven, dotted with skeletal song sketches, non sequitur excursions and (more often) classic tunes. “Bleed” and “On A Highway” are conscious mood pieces that serve as transitions and little more, while the bookends “Graze” and “I Think I Can” are enjoyable exercises in dichotomy.

But wouldn’t you know it: Fall Be Kind’s best song is also its outlier. “What Would I Want? Sky,” which contains the first licensed Grateful Dead sample, is a pop masterstroke that easily outshines all of Merriweather. With a hop-step rhythm and shimmering synthesizers, the song is the best thing the group has ever recorded and, hands down, the song of the year.

The group is desperate to transform the blasé into the surreal, so the lyric sheet conjures symbols, not stories. These are songs of taxicabs, flesh wounds and roadside workers, everyday images decorated with rhythm and meaning. “I Think I Can” is a balance of self-doubt and self-help, while “On A Highway” imagines a nightmarish road trip (perhaps the consequence of touring for three years straight?).

Animal Collective is a band that self-consciously moves from era to era; they’ve spoken at length to their disdain of stasis and their want of reinventing the songwriting process. They’ve made blunders, but they’ve also succeeded in every step of their growth throughout the decade.

As a new decade begins and the group moves to another era, the future is unsure. For Animal Collective, the climate is ideal.

Guests is structured as a scattershot mix tape, a medium that suits DOOM better than the full-length. Songs dissipate just as they break a sweat and give way to a B-movie sound clip or a wordless coda. The bombastic horn samples of Born Like This are mostly gone, replaced by jazzy keyboard lines (“Sorcerers”) and slow-motion upright bass (“Street Corners (DOOM Remix)”).

Even in its scathing political critiques, Born was far too stoned to deliver any affective social message, much less a coherent verse. Guests doesn’t even feign substance, with DOOM rhyming about everything from a pants-less Nancy Drew to the cleanliness of his metal mask.

This sense of flippancy pervades nearly every song, most enjoyably on the honky-tonk “Da Superfriendz,” which could have been the soundtrack to “Peanuts” if Charlie Brown grew up in a Long Island ghetto.

Speaking of “friendz,” there are too many cameos here to count. Most notable are J Dilla’s production on “Sniper Elite” and Ghostface Killah’s (rather lame) verses in “Angels.” DOOM’s throaty rasp is distinct but grating, and it’s a joy to hear such a communal record from such an eccentric character.

Of course, DOOM has never been consistently great, and Guests has its share of flubs. Tellingly, songs with longer run times are usually the weakest: “Project Jazz” proves hip-hop and smooth-jazz muzak an ill-advised combination, while “My Favorite Ladies” dips its toe in misogyny.

Conversely, Guests shines brightest in glimpses of rhythm and melody in condensed tracks like “Quite Buttery” and “Yikes.” DOOM and his contemporaries have a lot of interesting sonic ideas, but the rapper has learned (probably from Dilla’s Donuts) the value of scarcity and doesn’t allow these tunes to outstay their welcome.

The record is an adequate retrospective of DOOM’s career, showcasing his perverted-soul beats and his weirdo rhymes. DOOM always forgoes club-bangers in favor of head-scratchers like “Bell of Doom” or the whimsical “Black Gold,” which is why critics love him.

Unexpected Guests, like the rest of the rapper’s work, is special in its sense of adventure and expedition. The B-side wins again!

This is only natural. Hip, young angst has nothing to do but cool down, from Catullus to Bob Dylan to Kanye West (impending). Hindsight strips hotshot posturing down to what it is, and Casablancas couldn’t stay mad forever.

As its title suggests, Phrazes for the Young is nothing if not self-aware. The album is literally comforting advice for young people set to upbeat music. Maybe the 31-year-old Casablancas has assumed the elder statesman role a bit prematurely, but it’s an interesting change in tone.

So Phrazes is a warning to arrogant young bucks, but more importantly, the album is an acknowledgement of weakness. “Yes, I know I’m goin’ to Hell in a leather jacket,” he sings on “Out of the Blue,” one of the album’s best songs.

The singer no longer buries his threats in distortion (“Oh, just take it or leave it,” he sneered in 2001). They’ve all been replaced with glossy self-help “phrazes” like “your faith has got to be stronger than your fear,” from lead single “11^th Dimension.”

That song and most of the others buzz with clever ideas and sounds: drum machine click-pops with trumpets with outdated synthesizers with genre songwriting. Amongst it all are joyful melodies that seem to stick to the roof of your mouth.

But even at a mere eight songs, Phrazes is full of dead ends. “Ludlow St.” is a country ballad with drum machines and it’s about as successful as one would expect it to be. The real clunker is “Glass,” an overstretched and hackneyed piece of radio fodder Casablancas probably wrote in his sleep.

For this reason, Phrazes feels more like a collection of one-offs than a proper album. The singer has grown confident in his serene new worldview but struggles to sell those ideals without sounding like Dr. Phil.

If there’s a unifying theme, it’s that middle age is confusing. So is “cool.”

The deluxe edition of this New York based trio’s electronica/dream pop debut, Alpinisms, was released about 2 weeks ago and has been in surprisingly heavy rotation since then.  The single “Iamundernodisguise” somehow manages to lodge itself in my head everyday, which probably creeps people out as I constantly chant the chorus under my breath.  The rest of the album is equally as hypnotic, with lots of emphasis on rhythm and layered vocals.  This deluxe edition  include alternates versions, live cuts, demos and new mixes, plus an alternate take of the aforementioned song.  Let it make your ears bleed.

The BQE is, for one, an orchestral suite, commissioned by the Brooklyn Academy of Music and adapted from a 2007 performance at the Howard Gilman Opera House. Now it’s also the soundtrack to Stevens’ homemade film of the same name.

Of course, the package includes all sorts of eclectic goodies, from View-Master disks to a 40-page color comic book. “Maximum” is the word with Stevens, from his early electronic work to the widely lauded orchestral pop of his 2005 offering, Illinois.

Thus the expressway is a strange but perfect muse for the artist. Throughout seven movements, The BQE weaves a day in the life of the roadway, including a tranquil sunrise (“Movement I: In The Countenance of Kings”) and the whirlpool of exits and interchanges (“Movement III: Linear Tableau with Intersecting Surprise”).

The influences (mostly classical) are countless, but Steve Reich looms large over many of the suite’s best moments. In fact, for the first time in his prolific career, Stevens sounds more like a modern composer than a pop star.

Visually, The BQE is devoted to the bleached, tidy aesthetic of any Wes Anderson film. Like the expressway, the hula-hoop serves as bizarre symbol of futility and frivolity. The result is a vibrant, slightly pretentious ode to urban sprawl; it’s a wholly singular work.

So, the entire affair is something of a red herring, but what isn’t with Stevens? “Movement IV: Traffic Shock,” is the prime example; it pairs 8-bit synthesizers with a chorus of flutes for an unexpected thrill. On the heels of an orchestral reworking of his 2001 electronic album, Enjoy Your Rabbit, it’s clear the artist is arranging his past for the purpose of a new weird future.

It’s still Massive Attack’s world-weary sense of foreboding, but something has changed. The group has upgraded from eerily organic to starkly dystopian.

It’s been six years since the group’s last proper album and Robert Del Naja (3D) and Grant Marshall (Daddy G) have spent the time listening: to their new spouses, to British politics and to the rock band TV on the Radio, according to a recent interview with “Under the Radar.”

Little remains the same. Gone are the Eastern flavors of Massive Attack’s past work, replaced by disfigured click tracks and ominous sheets of digital sound. The clumsy thud of the two final tracks (both of which are throwaway remixes) is just lazy coming from the production team that crafted “Teardrop.”  The songs stalk around in circles, eternally builing up to nothing.

It’s odd then, that this lonely dance music was such a collaborate effort.  The group shares vocals with longtime friend and dub legend Horace Andy on the title track and the results are familiarly unsettling. TVOTR’s singer Tunde Adebimpe guests on “Pray For Rain,” the release’s best song, while Guy Garvey and Martina Topley-Bird whine the EP to a close. So much talent, but where is the songwriting?

Not here. Splitting the Atom is a release that vainly searches for humanity in spite of its own electronic trappings. The band has finally escaped to the club scene that their past work merely flirted with, to make the kind of monochromatic dance music that floats in and out of listeners’ minds. Massive Attack, for the first time in their career, holds tone above song.

If Splitting the Atom is a taste of Massive Attack’s next full-length, which is set for a February release, it’s like to sound unlike anything the group has released.  That’s a shame.

You can get the album digitally here.

Man on the Moon: The End of Day is a concept album, first and foremost. This is Cudi’s quest to shape his slippery, subjective thought life into a singular piece of art and his self-conscious bid for a unique hip-hop masterpiece.

On one hand, Cudi’s sincerity is refreshing. He is Kanye West’s protégé, and the emotional tactics are similar: front a big game, but constantly admit insecurities. Conversely, Cudi’s humility sometimes rings false. On “My World,” he details his former fear of women before sneering to them, “this will be my world. I told you so.”

Melodrama abounds. On “Heart of a Lion (Kid Cudi Theme Music),” he croons, “Hide and seek within a dream I seem to glide above my horror, though I feel I’ll never be complete inside the dark I borrow.” Someone’s been listening to 808s & Heartbreak.

Actually, Cudi helped write some of that album’s better songs, including “Heartless” and “RoboCop.” The production of 808s left critics and fans cold but in hindsight, the album transformed Auto-Tune from gimmicky tool to artistic statement. West reassured rappers they could sing.

Cudi obviously took the sentiment to heart, as he demonstrates repeatedly on Moon. His voice is a crude instrument; it sounds like Q-Tip’s nasal delivery shifted down a few octaves and zapped of its giddy.

His songs are better when kept light and airy, as with “Simple As…” and the hit, “Make Her Say.” In fact, much like Kanye West, Cudi’s best work blurs the line between pop and hip-hop, and “Day ‘N’ Nite” is proof.

Moon does not live up to Cudi’s grand vision, but in reality, how could it? It does reward the listener willing to follow more than a few rabbit trails, though. It’s a strange, charming and divisive record, making it the hip-hop Sgt. Pepper’s of 2009.

Cox’s numerous afflictions make for good art, too, and as he obviously knows, his songs and his interviews reveal much about his troubled childhood. He’s sung about his own imagined crucifixion more than once. The singer suffers from Marfan’s syndrome; that’s his collapsed frame on the cover. All this paints a portrait of Cox’s vulnerability, which, however unsettling, is the source of all his work.

When the artist accidentally leaked an unfinished copy of Atlas Sound’s newest, Logos, last year, he was furious at both himself and his fans. Rumor spread that the album would never see an official release, and when Deerhunter released the excellent Microcastle last year, it seemed that Cox had left Logos behind.

But here it is, and the album certainly wins “Most Improved” after 2007’s unbearably tepid Let The Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel. Logos is home to Cox’s every style: languid 1950s pop (“My Halo,” “Shelia”), garage rock (“An Orchid”) and, best of all, the Krautrock-shoegaze-masterpiece (“Quick Canal”).

It flows, somehow. Logos, like its predecessors, is designed as a whole, with clusters of similar songs grouped around the best one (here, it’s the aforementioned “Quick Canal”). This is autumnal music, with percussion that clicks and pops behind gorgeous finger-pickings. As with all of his work, Cox emphasizes texture over tune, though “Criminals” is a real pop gem.

While his work has slowly matured, Cox has been riding the same aesthetic for a few years now. Perhaps Logos will serve as the bookend for a string of finely similar records.

In this follow-up to 2007’s Hermaphrodite, Copeland captures the spirit of always-smiling commercial jingles and forcibly mingles it with the noise of his better-known noise band, Black Dice. Repo, which the group released earlier this year, is similar to Alien in its perverted hip-hop leanings, but Copeland’s solo work is more distinct and ultimately more affecting.

“How much pleasure can I wring from unpleasant noise?” he must have asked himself. There are playful four-on-the-floor bass hits, voices delayed into a formless goop, and a waltzing guitar solo. That’s just the title track. “Reptilian Space Beings, Shapeshifting Bloodsucking Vampires” sounds like the intro to the great lost Beastie Boys jam. “Al Anon” lumbers like a retarded ape before flinging itself into space.

But the album is most exciting when Copeland allows his loops to wander down unexpected rabbit holes. Things get groovy (is that J Dilla? No, it’s “Auto Dimmer”), tribal (“Osni”) and a little hedonistic (the excellent “Wolfman”). It’s all here, and it’s more whole than anyone expected.

For an artist whose past work dwells in incoherence, Copeland’s artistic vision certainly has matured. Though Alien is actually the sum of two EP’s, one of which hit stores last year, the record is surprisingly cohesive. Snippets of vocal delivery (“Anyone else smoke the marijuana?” in the opening track, for instance) are extracted and then abused: sped up, backmasked, stripped of meaning. In this way, Alien is a study of the way in which repetition is mutating, debasing. Experimental indeed.

Alien is so good because its sonic tinkering is its most arresting feature. In a word, Copeland is no longer afraid to be liked. His best work, and one of the most exciting releases of the year.

This is a maddeningly likeable record, as evidenced by the endless acclaim of buyers and critics alike. From “Lisztomania,” maybe the most immediate opener since Boxer’s “Fake Empire,” through the two-part climb of “Love Like A Sunset,” Side A is surprisingly diverse. Each song glows in neon, painted in a 1980s sound palette (think tense, muted guitars and expensive synths). Thomas Mars’ lovely melodies are double-tracked and the rhythms are always danceable. Subtle, but effective parameters.

The cocky title, the singer’s romance with Sofia Coppola, the name checks of Grizzly Bear and Steve Reich – all are hallmarks of an outfit that wears its affluent intellectuality on its sleeve. But, honestly, it’s not as contrived as it sounds. The most classical quality of Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix is its expert use of dynamics, its obsession with tension and release (“1901” and “Rome,” especially). It’s perfect pop, dressed up and having fun with a classical motif, an ambition at which Coldplay continues to fail.

Phoenix was always the least arresting of their Versailles brethren (fellow synth abusers Daft Punk and Air), but after 10 years, the quartet has outshined them all, producing the most complex and realized work of their careers. Who’s sparkling now?

Phoenix – 1901

Jay Brannan – The Freshman (The Verve Pipe)

Jay Brannan – Zombie (The Cranberries)

I thought the new Jonas Brothers album, Lines, Vines, and Trying Times might be a good start.

Track 1. World War III

For a track about “World War” it’s pretty upbeat. Lyrics are pure poop. I wonder what instruments they’re actually playing, and what’s actually being played by the backing band. The overall quality of the lyrics are seriously downgraded because the target audience is between the ages 9 and 12.

Spoiler Alert:
If World War III is a battle between The Jonas Brothers and their Girlfriend… then God help us all.

Track 2. Paranoid

Look out everybody, Joe is freaking out. I’d be paranoid if there was nine year olds who would chase me down to try and kiss me. “Can someone stop the noise?”, unfortunately not yet… I’ve got 10 more tracks of punishment.

Track 3. Fly with Me

Fly with Me? The disney references in the song are BEYOND OBVIOUS. Anything resembling talent in this song, ie piano & violin, were played by professional musicians. Starting to notice that every song has the same structure.

Track 4. Poison Ivy

Poison Ivy has to be the worst song I’ve heard yet. Super super super super repetitive. The phrase “Poison Ivy” is mentioned 20 times.

Not to mention the song is confusing as heck.

First they spend half the song singing
“Everyone’s allergic to poison ivy” over and over and over.
Then they switch it up at the end
“Everybody needs a little poison ivy”

But you just… said..

“Gimme some poison, baby!”

Track 5. Hey Baby (feat. Johnny Lang)

This song actually has someone with TALENT, Johnny Lang! Too bad the brothers sing over him so you can’t hardly hear him.

Track 6. Before the Storm (feat. Miley Cyrus)

<sarcasm>Wonderful. As if there wasn’t enough talent in the “greatest pop group of all time” that this song also has Miley Cyrus.</sarcasm> I think my head just might explode, but not before my ears bleed me to death (not the good bleed either).

This song sounds so tender, which makes it like a knockoff Rascal Flatts song. Is it just me or are Jonas Brothers songs using clichés in their lyrics and song titles?

Here’s something sad, in my head I just decided that Miley Cyrus is way too talented to be hanging around the Jonas Brothers. Eeehhhhk.

I wish this song would pick up the pace and end.

“Standin’ out in the rain,
Knowin’ that it’s really over.
Please don’t leave me alone. ”

Please leave me alone!

Track 7. What Did I Do to Your Heart

Over halfway now, I think I’m in the country half now… This song sounds like bluegrass fused with Rascal Flatts.

I’m not a fan of Rascal Flatts, but I feel bad that talentless disney do-nothings with infinite promotional money can just swoop in and steal their sound.

Track 8. Much Better

Much better? Not yet. The opening sounded like the start of a 1980′s adult contemporary pop song. The Jonas Brothers are regressing. And what’s up with all the crappy synth all of a sudden? There is barely any performed instruments on the track, which means that this would be lots of dancing onstage for a live show, oh boy.

Oh, and watch out for the random Saxophone & Guitar solo that does NOT belong anywhere in the song, nor match the flow and feel of any song.

Track 9. Black Keys

I can’t quite put my finger on who THIS SONG is emulating, but after 30 seconds you quickly see that The Jonas Brothers are literally TRYING TO SOUND LIKE EVERYONE ELSE.

Track 10. Don’t Charge Me for the Crime (feat. Common)

Okay, so Common is in this song. I dig that. But you have to bring in a B-List rapper to rap in a song about crime? Racist much? The song has Joe Jonas singing about how he doesn’t want to be charged for the crime that he committed.

I’m thinking of submitting a amicus curiae brief to the court, because music this bad needs to be the crime.

Gosh. What I said earlier about the worst song on the album…. it’s this song.

The lyrics are word-vomit. The music is terrible. Just bad.

Track 11. Turn Right

The whine of Joe Jonas’s voice is probably my least favorite sound now. The lyrics aren’t too bad, but I’m having a hard time understanding them because of how whiney the voices are.

Track 12. Don’t Speak

Last track, and again it has professional musicians playing better than the brothers ever could. This is another song about another failed relationship between the brothers and a girlfriend. Not the worst track of the album, but still torture enough that four minutes was way too long for.

Overall…

Trash. This is what critics have been saying for years, that one day a band would be created for the sole purpose of making money. The Jonas Brothers do not contribute anything positive to the future of music or creativity. I understand that there is a need for popular music geared at a younger crowd that is not only safe for them to listen to, but also relevant to them… but this just feels to me like patronizing. When I have kids and they want to listen to some “rockin’ good stuff”, they’ll be air-guitaring it up to some Boston and Electric Light Orchestra with me like I did with my Dad.

To slap a number on it…

I give Lines, Vines, and Trying Times a 0.5 out of 5 in terms of quality
And a 10 out of 10 in terms of crap. Ω

Pop and its investers have always been fond of brevity, especially with radio hits from the 1960s (an era to which Deerhunter owes a great debt). But in the case of the group’s career trajectory, the Rainwater Cassette Exchange EP marks a welcome foray into concision. If Microcastle, which tidied the ambiance of Cryptograms, hinted at discretion, then this release embraces it. There are no interludes, suites or reprises here, just naked songs.

It’s not just shorter song lengths, though. Like Pixies, Deerhunter’s strength isn’t virtuosity, it’s knowing what parts to play, and when. Moses Archuleta’s drumming has never sounded so punchy, so immediate, especially on the EP’s highlight, “Circulation.” The same goes for Josh Fauver and his wonderful melodic bass lines. No song is lost inside effects pedals (though they’re all sticky with delay), and these songs are cleaner because of it. The band, and Cox especially, has discovered that simple can be weird too.

Deerhunter – Circulation

Release Date:

Label: Ramsuer Records

In the Bloody Interview we did with Samantha Crain her Midnight bandmates jokingly admitted, “we chime in musically to make it accessible to normal people.”  Quickly she responds with a smile, “I bring them a song and they make it good.”  And finally guitarists Stephen Sebastian summarizes the whole discussion by pointing out that “we are the bridge between Samantha and the world.”

Without trying to sound pretentious, after thinking about this exchange I got to wondering, “what inaccessibility?”

Perhaps in the raw and initial stages of the songs off “Songs in the Night”, with just Crain on the guitar singing into a tape player,  the music was discombobulated and the lyrics nonsensical.  Then the Shivers stepped in and completely revolutionized the sound of the album, helping Crain refine the music so she could reconstruct the lyrics.  That would be the only way I could think that would lead them to suggest that she is inaccessible, because what the final product demonstrates is far from it.

Songs in the Night opens with a solo Crain on the guitar singing, “I will give into the dark clouds and/ I will sing with the frog in my throat,” and is shortly thereafter joined by the rest of her band.  What the two (Crain and the Shivers) do together is pure harmony.  Crain brings to the table her book of poetry (penning lyrics like “Oh, ghost of reason/ Oh, fool of love/ From where come your division if not from above?” from the song Long Division, or “The trees were my audience applauding/ The chair, I swear it was a cat for my company/ That piano, its the angels/ Calling me home” from Bananafish Revolution, or “When the lantern dies, chase your shadow all the way north/ Hold down your fort and breath/ Know your maker and tie up your death” from Calm Down), an idea for a melody, and the Shivers fill in the rest with steady rythyms and gently distorted folk guitar.  The unsung hero of this album is bass player Andrew Tanz, providing background vocals that act like the garnish on top of the cake: not necessary, but oh man does it just add that final beautiful touch.

Early this year I declared The Dam Song my early favorite for Best Song of 2009.  But quickly trying to fight its way to the top is another off this album, Get the Fever Out.

“Get the Fever Out” by Samantha Crain and the Midnight Shivers

I think ultimately the decision of “accessibility” lies with the listener.  And if you find thoughtful lyrics, meaniful instrumentation, and an album that flows well “inaccessible”, well, then I am not sure that we will ever make your ears bleed.

There is no shortage of cynicism during an era as bleak as this one, and no one spills it quite like rapper/producer MF DOOM. The famously masked artist has changed his name again; it’s just DOOM now, and like the metal mask he performs under, the pseudonym is a nod to Marvel Comics baddie Dr. Doom. DOOM has always grunted nonsensical rhymes over shadowy beats, and this shtick has propelled him to the forefront of indie rap. He’s quickly become a poster child for Cartoon Network’s [adult swim], and his production has been recruited by big names like Ghostface Killah.

Unfortunately, the limelight can cripple growth. Born Like This, the artist’s first record in four years, is substandard. “Hefner please, lost the food and stew beef, new referees,” DOOM sputters on “Lightworks,” still sacrificing coherence for rhyme. “Supervillainz” finds the artist grunting over a whining organ, his flow weaker than ever. But even more troubling is the intensely homophobic “Batty Boyz,” in which DOOM derides a lifestyle “even the rats know is tacky.”

Nearly half of these songs clock in at less than two minutes, so while there are glimpses of the talent that put DOOM on the map, (the sober “Absolutely” and the J Dilla-produced “Gazzillion Ear”) Born Like This is mostly an undercooked dystopian skit. He’s got the political atheism of the Roots, but none of that group’s veiled sense of hope. Perhaps it’s fitting that “Cellz” samples Charles Bukowski, a poet equally entrenched in despair. But who needs another cynic?

DOOM – Absolutely

The Decemberists Hazards of Love (Capitol)

These guys just keep getting better and better.  I found it very obvious that this project began as the score for a broadway play.  Even if he’s never able to bring anything to the stage, I hope he continues to use this same approach to each of his records.  It just brought a cohesiveness to the album that is so rare to find in this digital age.  Thankfully, Meloy is not obsessed with the single, like the rest of the mass media.   So after day one, it hasn’t disappointed me.  My anticipation was well warranted.

Full Album Stream

Swan Lake Enemy Mine (Jagjaguwar)

This is the sophomore effort from the musical fusion of Daniel Bejar (New Pornographers), Spencer Krug (Wolf Parade), and Carey Mercer (Frog Eyes).  It may not match up to the works of original groups, but I am still a big fan.  As far as anyone knows, this is the first known use of a “court painting” as a record cover.  Thus the early working title for this album had been “Before the Law”, a beloved Kafka parable and a reference to the court painting. However, the band is sick of being referred to as “literary”, so they went with “Enemy Mine”, which is a movie from Bejar’s youth and a serves as a metaphor for collaboration.  I hope more artists will venture to take the time to make such a collaboration.

Swan Lake – Spider

Swan Lake – A Hand At Dusk

Harlem Shakes Technicolor Health (Gigantic)

This is the debut album from the band whose self-released EP, Burning Birthdays, earned generous praise from Pitchfork, SPIN, Rolling Stone and a myriad of blogs back in 20o7, and then went on tour in support of many great acts such as Beirut, Vampire Weekend, and Deerhoof.   It won’t be long before these guys are on their own headlining tour, for they have picked up right where they left off with Technicolor Health. It’s just fun blend of garage rock and psychedellic pop, with some fantastic harmonies throughout.

Harlem Shakes – Strictly Game

Mono Hymn to the Immortal Wind (Temporary Residence)

I’ve actually never heard of these guys until I received some promo material on Hymn, their first album in over 3 years, but their fifth LP and apparently their “most expansive album to date.”  It is an awesome and majestic record.  The best instrumental record I’ve heard since Explosions in the Sky’s The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place.   The 28-piece chamber orchestra that plays throughout the album helps to create such a gorgeous and grandiose sound.

Mono – Follow the Map

Various Artists – The Very Best of Prestige Records (Prestige)

So I usually don’t pay much attention to “best of” records, or jazz music for that matter.  But I just enjoyed this album so much, I couldn’t not mention it on this list.  It is a fantastic collection of songs and is great for many occasions.  If you’re looking for a good dinner party mix, this would be a great one.  And I have found it to be a great record to put on while I’m working in the office.   After listening to this record you will surely become just as infatuated with the trumpet as I am.

Full Album Stream

Beep Beep Enchanted Islands (Saddle Creek)

As you might expect from Saddle Creek this album leans towards the folk rock side of things, but don’t let that shallow genre association fool you.  Beep Beep travels beyond those simple expectations into an eclectic sound, skewing rythyms and notes to achieve something unique but not inaccessible.

Beep Beep – Secrets for the Well

Beep Beep – Mermaid Struggle

Mirah (a)spera (K)

Yes, the cover on this album is ridiculous.  Is that an alien squid sitting atop her shoulder?  And what in the world are they trying to tell us about her music with such an outrageous picture?  Fortunately, it has nothing to do with the music.  Her playfully sweet voice marries well with the heavily distorted (but rarely distracting) instrumentation and progressive beats.

Mirah – Education

Mirah – Gone Are the Days

Rafter 10 songs (Asthmatic Kitty)

The title of this album does a pretty good job of letting you know what you are going to get, 10 songs with seemingly nothing tying them together other than the fact that they are on the same album.  Sometimes while listening to these songs I start to understand what it is like to have A.D.D.  Constantly shifting and morphing, none of these songs tend to stay in the same place for too long.  Certainly an interesting album, just don’t try and listen to this while doing something you need to focus on.

Rafter – Bicycle

So, amidst snaking power cables and the warm glow of their samplers, Animal Collective has created their most accessible and complete work to date, an alien record strangely enmeshed in daily life.  Lyrically, Merriweather Post Pavilion finds the psychedelic warriors putting aside the mystery and angst of 2007′s uneven Strawberry Jam for the sake of simple relational pleasures. There is a warm transparency in the understated chorus of “Summertime Clothes,” in which Dave Portner (aka Avey Tare) joyously bleats, “I want to walk around with you.”  The Afro-beat rapture of closer “Brother Sport” finds Noah Lennox (aka Panda Bear) consoling his sibling after their father’s death. There is no irony or pretense, only clarity.

Musically, MPP expands upon the Collective’s signature textural palette while borrowing a melodic bend from Panda Bear’s critically acclaimed solo release, Person Pitch.  The group’s relentless, ever-innovative output continues to amass, and it’s remarkable how they’ve perfected their art.  The twinkling arpeggios of “My Girls,” the euphoric, thumping climax of “In the Flowers,” and the obscure jaw harp sample in “Lion in a Coma” illustrate (again) the band’s talent at sifting pop through their innate weirdness.  Merriweather Post Pavilion is an absolute sonic labyrinth, a layered haze of found sounds and dense harmonization to be explored and memorized. Even Charles Gibson digs it.

Animal Collective – Summertime Clothes

This post is just a continuation of where I stopped. So it’s going to feel shorter. So to make up for it, I’m doing 4 songs instead of three.

On a personal note, my Vinyl copy of this album arrived last week. It has a different version of “Frontier Psychiatrist”. Trust me, the version I’ll be uploading is the superior version. If anyone is truly interested, I can record the vinyl to get that different version. (email: demands [at] codybrom.com)

10. Electricity (removed 2/13/09)
This is one of the best tracks of the album right here. It’s so perfectly elegant. It rolls up multiple styles in one big burrito of musical love. The sounds are so different that this song just feels out of place compared to other tracks on the album. The sounds are perfect and the flow is great. Definitely a great candidate for any great study-rock playlist.

13. Frontier Psychiatrist (removed 2/13/09)
Great song, or Greatest song? Opening with some crazy lines from a film, the drums immediately kick in setting a nice beat behind a very dramatic setting. The haunting choir and horns suck you in instantly. The comedy styling of Wayne & Shuster get turned into a chilling vocalization of a nightmare visit to the psychiatrist. Most of the song makes zero sense, but the sound of it all is breathtaking. At the halfway point, the drums with the delay effects sound brilliant, and then we return to the lyrics. “Ranagazoo let’s have a tune!”. The end is quite odd, “some birds are funny when they talk”. This is my favorite song on the album and embodies everything The Avalanches are.

16. Little Journey (removed 2/13/09)
This really is just a warm-up track, but it’s nice and sweet and enjoyable, and sets up one of the best songs on the album.

17. Live At Dominoes (removed 2/13/09)
Second to last track, and it’s a wonderful infusion of retro sound and electronic. I especially enjoy the end when things begin to shift more to a sound full of strings. This is just a wonderful mash of samples and is a fun little romp.

There it is. A wonderful album. If you want it? GO BUY IT! It’s worth every penny. Maybe even a few more than that. I bought my vinyl copy from Tower.com, but they also sell that album as a compact disc.

Alright friends, just two weeks left. Next week is a really cool EP, “At Last Alone”. Be sure to tune in, pretty much all those mp3′s are impossible to find.

Enjoy the sweet avalanche. Ω

The first key note to this album is to make sure that you will hear it in a gapless manner. So if you get it into iTunes, check that box, or if you have a physical copy just hit play. The tracks blend right into one another with little to no actual indication that it had changed.

This is an amazing album with more than 3,500 vinyl samples used. This truly is the definition of remixing taken at a very literal level.

The album starts strong with the sweet melody of Jeanne Solo singing a portion of her song, “Everyday”. The entire ambiance of the background does add to the song and makes it a very lively and enjoyable experience.

1. Since I Left You (removed 2/13/09)

By the time  we work our way to track seven, the group is pretty well established itself. In this track the band begins to truly explore the sounds, mixing in some more obscure vocals. This is one of the more memorable tracks for me at least, and it begins to set the stage for later songs like “Diners Only”, and “A Different Feeling”

7. Close To You (removed 2/13/09)

My favorite track of the first half of the album. Some of the broadest ranges of sound, very interesting to listen to. High energy, and tons of fun.  I love the last part of the song when the beat kicks up, and the Violin comes in. It’s one of the best parts of the album. It ends leading into another great track, “Electricity”. I’ll talk more about that song next week.

9. A Different Feeling (removed 2/13/09)

I hope you’re really enjoying this series as much as I am. I ordered the album on Vinyl last week, and I am very eagerly anticipating it’s arrival! So don’t forget, that you need to buy the albums of your favorite artists to SUPPORT THEM!

Stay tuned the rest of the month for more awesome stuff about The Avalanches, “the worlds greatest remix band“.

I hope you fall into an avalanche of awesome tunes. Ω

KaiserCartel – Okay (removed 2/13/09)

i hope your ears bleed. (but not really)

JC

Jason Mraz – I’m Yours (removed 2/13/09)

i haven’t heard but one song off of their first album, so i can’t really compare this one to their older stuff. but i definitely give the album two thumbs up. having grown up playing the trumpet, i am a sucker for almost any music with horns that isn’t ska. but beyond that, his voice just seems to suck me in and capture my full attention with every song. so i encourage you to download this song, and if you like, i can assure you that the whole album is worth your time and money.

beirut – a sunday smile (removed 2/13/09)

iron & wine – innocent bones (removed 2/13/09)

i hope your ears just bled.

also, for those interested, cass is in the middle of recording an album of theme songs he has written over the past seven years for new life ranch.  this pic was taken in east hall studio in fayetteville, ar.

here’s an example of the genius of the man from the land down under.

colin hay – beautiful world (removed 2/13/09)

here’s to blood flowing from your ear

i was surprised though as i listened to the lyrics to see the way that duritz decided to portray the different times. i just assumed that he had bought into our culture and would see the fun, and the fulfillment that goes along with the saturday night lifestyle and then not until sunday morning did i expect him to deal with the reality and the loneliness of it all. but i think the characters living in this saturday night world are dealing with the despair that they are succumbing themselves to by seeking fulfillment in all the wrong places. and then sunday mornings they are looking back with regret in a more raw and subdued state of mind. in no way can this album be described as cheery. there is no hangin’ around-like pick me up track. but that is ok with me and i think that this is definitely going to be an album that i will enjoy for years to come.

counting crows – los angeles (lost during a site crash 7/23)