The Notwist - Close to the Glass

The Notwist
Close to the Glass
24 February 2014
Sub Pop

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Bavaria’s The Notwist have had an incredibly varied twenty-five-year career, winding through metal and indie rock into the electronica terrain they’ve inhabited in recent years. Close to the Glass is their eighth proper studio LP, and it’s all over the map stylistically. From dark glitchy electronica to acoustic folk, it’s a caravan that’s taken several wrong turns to end up magically in the right place.

The title track is a bit like Autechre meets Einstürzende Neubauten musically, like Radiohead in its vocals, and like awesome in its execution. “Kong” is an indie rock rocker that begins with the guitars out front and the melody college radio-friendly before mutating into a Trans Am-like electronic jam. “Into Another Tune” features an array of different organic percussion, while “Casino” sees the band break out the acoustic guitar. “From One Wrong Place to the Next” is Kid A condensed into 2:44. “Run Run Run” blends an indie rock vocal melody with a twisted math rock structure and electronic instrumentation into a brooding five-minute song which is the centrepiece of the album. The closing “They Follow Me” haunts the deserted rooms of the home that kraut rock and indie electronica might have lived in had they got married and started a family.

Close to the Glass is a musically extroverted record performed by a bunch of emotionally reserved introverts. The vocal delivery has the coldness of Ralf Hütter (this is definitely not a bad thing). It’s fascinating that such a reserved manner of singing could pack such an emotional payload. On the other hand, one wonders what this band could do if it were a little less reserved and a little more unhinged.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Wild Beasts - Present Tense

Wild Beasts
Present Tense
24 February 2014
Domino

4 stars out of 5

 

“Don’t confuse me for someone that gives a fuck,” sings Hayden Thorpe on “Wanderlust,” the first single and opening track on Wild Beasts’s fourth LP, Present Tense, their first since 2011. The record is packed full of beautiful laments, sad dirges, and a deep sense that Thorpe does in fact give several fucks—perhaps not about you and your expectations, but definitely about the music he and his fauvist friends present on Present Tense.

After a weak start, the album begins to gain momentum with the third track, “Mecca,” a stylish new wave ode to emotional nostalgia: “All we want is to feel that feeling again.” The next track, “Sweet Spot,” sees the album getting stronger still, moving closer to the center of the lush New Romantic rainforest that Wild Beasts explored so thoroughly on their previous LPs. “Pregnant Pause” is a tensely shimmering song that worms its way under your skin to linger and grow. “A Simple Beautiful Truth” is classic New Romantic material, blending pop with post-punk into what is likely the most accessible and radio-friendly track on the album. After passing (definitely not unscathed) through the dark tunnels of “Past Perfect” and “New Life,” the album closes with the elegant “Palace,” a dignified, chin-high, deliberately slow walk through the gauntlet of critics, letting them know where they can shove it.

More subtle than their deadly Two Dancers, this record creeps up on you and gets in a few low blows before you even realize you’re under attack. It could easily have been titled Present Tension because of how well it builds and sustains the foreboding and the despair. Don’t let the New Romantic synths and postures fool you: this is some heavy-hitting emotional music, not suitable for casual background listening. You might need a box of tissues and/or a psychiatrist after this one.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Beck - Morning Phase

Beck
Morning Phase
21 February 2014
Capitol

3.5 stars out of 5

 

On Morning Phase, Beck revisits the acoustic folkiness of 2002’s Sea Change. Recording sessions for the new album began in 2005, with much of the same folks who graced Sea Change with their presence. Finally completed and released nine years later, Morning Phase finds Beck content simply making pretty sounds, concentrating on the atmosphere and the lyrics rather than exploring new and interesting songscapes, as has been his trademark. While this is by no means a bad record, there’s not much here to hold your attention either.

“Heart Is a Drum” has a bit of a Nick Drake feel to it, though in more of the fully orchestrated Bryter Layter vein than the stripped down Pink Moon. “Blue Moon” is a sunny single full of acoustic layers. It’s the kind of song you’d bring home to your mother. Unless your mother is cool, then don’t bother, because she’ll embarrass you both by asking why you broke up with that other guy with the tattoo of bpNichol’s poetry on his neck and the odd way of pronouncing “totalitarian” as “totally-terrain.” She wanted you to marry that guy and everyone ever after will be a disappointment in her eyes. “Wave” is Beck’s attempt to remake Björk’s “Hunter” without the broken drum’n’bass. It’s the highlight of the album, full of lovely strings and melancholia. “Turn Away” has a ‘60s California psychedelic folk feel to it, all vocal harmonies and minor-key expository sermons of fake wisdom. “Country Down” stays in the same state, but moves on to the country-fuelled ‘70s for its inspiration. “Waking Light” closes the album on a promising note: powerful, gripping, moody, and beautifully textured.

One of the problems one encounters when reviewing a record by someone who had helped completely redefine pop music in the ‘90s (along with the aforementioned Björk and others) is that, even if this would be a good record by most other artists, there’s always a sense of disappointment. Coupled with the feeling that Beck is holding back a bit with his creativity here (as inferred from press releases heralding the album), this is an LP that has had an unenviable Sisyphean battle from the beginning. It has its moments, but likely won’t be considered among Beck’s stronger records once all the dust has settled.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

St. Vincent - St. Vincent

St. Vincent
St. Vincent
24 February 2014
Loma Vista/Republic

4.5 stars out of 5

 

“Oh, what an ordinary day. Take out the garbage, masturbate.” So sings Annie Clark on St. Vincent’s eponymous fourth LP. The music here, however, is anything but ordinary. Clark brings both the experimental ecstasy and the attitude. If you read to the end of this review, you’ll learn new ways of being irrationally giddy at how good a record can be.

Clark gets off to a running start with “Rattlesnake,” a true narrative of her journey into the desert. This engaging track is full of pseudo-industrial noise sets the tone for what is a very exciting and innovate suite of songs to come. “Birth in Reverse” is just awesome. Go listen to it and you’ll see. Trust me. Would I lie to you? (Answer: depends.) “Prince Johnny” sees Clark snorting pieces of the Berlin Wall (ouch!) against a backdrop of DNA-damaged R&B. “Digital Witness” is (insert multiple hyperbolic adjectives here). If Tori Amos had stayed on her game post-Choirgirl Hotel and made some truly great records, they might have sounded (if they were lucky) a bit like this. “Bring Me Your Loves” deserves more praise than I am physically capable of giving at this moment. “Every Tear Disappears” begins like The Cars’ “Good Times Roll,” chugging back and forth before Clark takes it to her breast and nurtures it into a fully-blown edgy and angular (oh, the clichés!) St. Vincent™ tune.

In conclusion: it’s all good. Really freakin’ good. If you weren’t a St. Vincent fan before, you probably still won’t be, for all the same reasons, but you will have to grudgingly admit that this record is unforgettable (if still unlikeable). And then in a year or so you’ll come around, just like all those people (myself included) who hated Animal Collective pre-2009 and then simply couldn’t deny that Merriweather Post Pavilion was all that and a bag of chips.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Solids - Blame Confusion

Solids
Blame Confusion
18 February 2014
Fat Possum

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Montréal’s Solids is comprised of guitarist Xavier Germain-Poitras and drummer Louis Guillemette. Their music evoques comparisons to Dinosaur Jr. (minus the wah pedal) and the more relaxed moments of pop in Sonic Youth’s career, though …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead also comes to mind. These francophones sing in English, which is a strategic play in this city where I live. English lyrics means the possibility for global attention, though such an economic move can have political ramifications in a bilingual scene like this one, where there are always unspoken tensions.

The term “shoegaze revival” seems to be applied to any band these days that employs pretty chords and layers of distortion and effects. Well, in that case, the album’s second track, “Off White,” is a pretty little shoegaze revivalist ditty, though in mood it’s more Source Tags & Codes than Lush or Slowdive. “Haze Away” is a near perfect Dinosaur Jr. mid-tempo fuzzfest. “Blame Confusion” is an upbeat tune that slowly dissipates into layers of sun-drenched delay. “Cold Hands” is all urgency and speed, but leaves caverns of space for Germain-Poitras’s guitar to build some beautiful arcs and bridges around and between Guillemette’s towering peaks of drums. The closing, almost mellow “Terminal” is where the duo relaxes on the couch after the fast and probably exhausting workout of the rest of the album, basking in the glow of this glorious noise they have created.

Like other guitar-and-drums two-piece outfits (Japandroids, Blood Red Shoes, etc), Solids tend to be fucking loud; however, on Blame Confusion the melody is always the core of the music. This is head-nodding sing-along loudness rather than the head-banging mosh-along kind. It’s a good record that doesn’t make it into great territory, but never drifts toward the mediocre either.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Phantogram - Voices

Phantogram
Voices
18 February 2014
Republic

4 stars out of 5

 

Voices is the somewhat delayed second LP of Sarah Barthel and Josh Carter, a New York duo that records under the name Phantogram. Their keyboard and guitar approach to minimalist pop music makes for some catchy tuneage on this album which, while never attaining any ecstatic heights, keeps delivering the goods in a timely and efficient manner. (Sorry—I’ve been spending too much time in warehouses lately.)

The opening track, “Nothing But Trouble,” is a trip-hop/guitar freak out bastard child. Barthel’s vocals and Carter’s unstoppable guitar madness propel the song into something special. “Fall in Love” is a gritty, angular pop song, with Barthel’s keyboards taking up alllll the bottom end while her vocals evoke Sarah Cracknell. Carter takes a turn at singing on “Never Going Home,” an introspective mid-tempo piece. “Strange it didn’t affect me,” sings Barthel on “The Day You Died,” a new wave sing-along with a properly post-punk guitar riff. “Howling at the Moon” features some interesting vocal exercises, with Barthel’s delivery almost like an MC, exaggerating her spacing and employing unexpected emphases. “Bad dreams never affect” Barthel either, or so she claims on “Bad Dreams.” Her urgent, breathless delivery would indicate that her unemotional pretentions are a smoke screen.

While I admit that I’m a sucker for this kind of music in general, this one really is a keeper. There’s a bit of drag on the home stretch, but enough wind in the rest of the songs to propel it along very nicely. Hopefully we won’t have to wait another four and a half years for LP #3.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Angel Olsen - Burn Your Fire for No Witness

Angel Olsen
Burn Your Fire for No Witness
17 February 2014
Jagjaguwar

4 stars out of 5

 

“Thought I had ideas once—they were all on loan.” So sings Chicago’s Angel Olsen on “Dance Slow Decades,” one of the more striking moments on her very strong second LP Burn Your Fire for No Witness. If you thought she was just another Bonnie “Prince” Billy collaborator without a voice of her own, you were dead wrong. This delicate but confident offering of naked sorrow is a must-hear for anyone who loves the more personal and blood-stained aspects of Americana. Olsen does have ideas, and even if she borrows here and there, her songwriting is distinct and memorable.

The album begins quietly with “Unfucktheworld,” featuring only acoustic guitar and Olsen’s radio-distant distorted voice. “Forgiven/Forgotten” brings the noise, with fuzzed-out electric guitars and a full band. The creeping gothic tale of the electric folk “White Fire” broadens the scope of the album. Olsen captivates with her story and vocal delivery. “Stars” is a darkly personal plea to a loved one that explodes into a sorrowful indie rock song reminiscent of Tanya Donelly. “Iota” is straight out of the 1950s: Olsen is the heroine in a Hollywood western musical, but using her lyrics to twist the classic period into a knowing exposé of its own hollowness. “Dance Slow Decades” funnels all the power of Olsen’s harrowing voice and the poisoned barbs of her lyrics into four minutes of sustained deadly attack.

The album ends with the gentle plea of “Windows,” in which Olsen asks “What’s so wrong with the light?” Indeed, nothing. Olsen pulls light out of some very sinister shadows all throughout Burn Your Fire, looking into the abyss and then stepping back from the edge to tell you what she saw with a smile and a warm hug.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Guided by Voices - Motivational Jumpsuit

Guided by Voices
Motivational Jumpsuit
18 February 2014
Guided by Voices Inc.

3.5 stars out of 5

 

 

“The last recording nearly killed me!” Robert Pollard sings on “Writer’s Bloc (Psycho All the Time).” I assume this happens to him frequently, as Guided by Voices releases a new album every few weeks (or so it seems). Motivational Jumpsuit is GBV’s twentieth studio LP. Add to this Pollard’s twenty solo LPs, and… Well, to put things in perspective, MV is the ninth of these LPs to be released in the last twenty-six months. That’s fucking N-I-N-E. Seven plus two. Since December of 2011. Dude writes more songs before he eats breakfast in the morning than the rest of us write in a year. I mean all of the rest of us combined.

The music: still those trademark one-minute indie rock songs, those quirky lyrics, that lo-fi aesthetic, those garage rock guitars, and that complete disinterest in conforming to what the music industry wants. As there are twenty songs on this album, with little stylistic variation between them, I will treat the album as one forty-seven-minute long song. My favourite parts of the song are called “A Bird with No Name,” “Littlest League Possible,” and “Bulletin Borders.” As usual, Pollard’s lyrics are abstract and disconnected, making his emotional delivery of them somewhat disorienting. Disorienting is generally a good thing for an album to be, and this one is no exception.

As an album in and of itself, Motivational Jumpsuit is a good platter of interesting little ditties. As the ninth album Pollard has written in two years (with a tenth, Cool Planet, to follow in a few short months!), MV both benefits and suffers from the deluge of new material. It’s a distinct challenge to keep all of the songs distinct in one’s head. Indeed, how to keep all the different albums apart in one’s head is a challenge even. Though the mere fact that Pollard can pack twenty songs onto an LP without a single one of them being a misstep is impressive indeed.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Suzanne Vega - Tales from the Realm of the Queen of Pentacles

Suzanne Vega
Tales from the Realm of the Queen of Pentacles
3 February 2014
Cooking Vinyl

2 stars out of 5

 

Tales from the Realm of the something or other is Suzanne Vega’s eighth studio album, coming seven years after her seventh. The Queen of Pentacles is very different from La Reine des pétoncles, which is where my mind immediately went, of course. As a suit in a typical tarot set, the Pentacles or Coins is part of the Minor Arcana, and represents the Third Urban Estate. None of this has anything to do with scallops, although the Queen, allegedly generous with her wealth, might take you out for seafood one day.

“Crack in the Wall” serves as the prologue to this concept album, wherein a door appears magically from a crack in the wall and we enter the realm of the aforementioned monarch. Now, if we are permitted a little bit of background here, Vega had a short-lived but fantastic experimental phase in the early ‘90s part of her career, and her third and fourth LPs—days of open Hand and 99.9Fº, respectively—exploded the boundaries of what had been a relatively safe domain of urban folk inhabited by Vega during her first two LPs (the ones you’ve probably heard of if all you know of Vega is “Tom’s Diner” and “Luka”). Tales is not cut from that same experimental cloth musically, although it is lyrically ambitious to a fault. The song cycle presented here revolves around the world of the Tarot, with titles like “Fool’s Complaint” and “Portrait of the Knight of Wands.” Musically, this is an album tailor-made for Starbucks listening while you try to study for your systematic botany midterm. Luckily, you can drown it out by putting in your earbuds and cranking up Jon Hopkins or Fuck Buttons.

Vega is in her fifties now, and appears to be writing music for people in their sixties, specifically those possessing multiple degrees and pretentions to artiness. Perhaps when these people retire they will have the time to sit down with the lyric sheet and try to decipher this album. It could be a drinking game, where every time someone uncovers a Tarot reference (s)he has to do a shot of Kentucky bourbon without having to use a straw.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Cheatahs - Cheatahs

Cheatahs
Cheatahs
10 February 2014
Wichita

4 stars out of 5

 

Take one part Swervedriver, one part Dinosaur Jr., and three parts My Bloody Valentine, add lemon and cinnamon, shake well, and you have Cheatahs, the eponymous debut by Canadian-born, UK-based Nathan Hewitt and his co-conspirators. All of this is perfectly fine in my books. A lot of the record sounds like an attempt to remake Loveless, but, let’s face it, if you’re going to pick a classic to remake, you could do a lot worse.

“Geographic” has moments which seem like Swervedriver circa Raise and others which seem like Dinosaur before they added the “Jr.”—a template for many of the songs to follow on the LP. It’s urgent rock and roll infused with the vocal textures of Kevin Shields and the guitar tones and techniques of… well, Kevin Shields. Hewitt makes no attempt to hide his influences here. “Mission Creep” adds the pretty factor to the shoegaze mix, while “Get Tight” brings a bit more of the grunge. “Leave to Remain” seems to be the bridge between Loveless and Goo, an incredibly catchy rocker with many different beautiful textures of distortion to keep you occupied. “Kenworth” goes from rock song to drone piece over the space of six minutes, tailing out beautifully into “Fall,” another MBV-inspired song which stands well enough on its own to be enjoyable without knowledge of its influences (if such a state of ignorance were possible in a world where Loveless is ranked among such works of art as Revolver and London Calling). The closing track “Loon Calls” even lifts a riff straight out of MBV’s “What You Want.”

What makes Cheatahs stand out from the recent slew of shoegaze revival attempts is the energy and urgency which flows out of each song. There are no moments where it feels like the band is just going through the motions. Tracks like “The Swan” and “IV” offer no chances for boredom, either for your ears or for your feet. Sure it’s nostalgic, but it’s an earnest embracing of the past rather than the all-too-typical cynical revivalist bands which clog much of the “underground” today.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Maxïmo Park - Too Much Information

Maxïmo Park
Too Much Information
2 February 2014
V2

3 stars out of 5

 

And the award for Worst Cover Art of 2014 goes to… probably this fucking thing. I completely loved Maxïmo Park’s 2005 debut A Certain Trigger, one of the better slabs of post-punk revivalism to come out of the UK explosion of such stuff during the middle part of the last decade. It was disarmingly sincere and fucking catchy. The Newcastle band has since undergone a revolving door of stylistic facelifts, but on their fifth LP, Too Much Information, they are still very much recognizable as those northern lads who brought us those many hummable, toe-tappable tunes of yesteryear (if one may call 2005 “yesteryear”).

The opening track, “Give, Get, Take,” was probably written as a collaboration between Squeeze and The Records over a lost weekend in the early ‘80s, after which the demo tapes were stolen by Maxïmo Park, who had rented a time machine for this specific purpose. Just because I don’t have the scientific proof doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. “Brain Cells” sees the band again firmly planted in 1982, but instead of the angular guitar-based post-punk of their debut, the track is more in a New Romantic vein, filled with echoes of Bronski Beat synth-y sombreness. “Leave This Island” is from an Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark LP, I’m certain of it! Okay, maybe not, but it easily could be. The fourth track, “Lydia, the Ink Will Never Dry” is a return to the band’s own past of guitars and melancholy minor key-ness, though here more Smiths than Buzzcocks. The remainder of the album is, for better or for worse, variations on the same themes, though the glam-ified power pop of “My Bloody Mind” makes it a good tune that is worth the listen, and perhaps provides the clue to Bryan Ferry being singer Paul Smith’s secret idol.

While Maxïmo Park have become more ambitious with their arrangements over the years, their songwriting still treads the safe waters close to the shores of their debut. “It’s not a peak, it’s a plateau,” sings Smith on “Leave This Island,” which seems appropriate to describe the band’s arc over the last decade. This plateau slopes subtly downward, however, perhaps angling toward yonder swamp of mediocrity, perhaps dropping into that distant sinkhole of has-beens. All geographic metaphors aside, Too Much Information is a likeable enough record, without too many peaks, but without any real valleys either. (Oh! See what I did there?)

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Sunn O))) & Ulver - Terrestrials

Sunn O))) & Ulver
Terrestrials
3 February 2014
Southern Lord

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Terrestrials is a collaboration between Seattle’s Sunn O))) and Norway’s Ulver, a pair of nominally “metal” bands with incredibly eclectic and experimental tendencies. If you’re hoping for conventional metal with guitars and drums, you’d best look elsewhere. This album is more Tangerine Dream or Ashra than Opeth or Mayhem; however, it has a very metal mood, despite trumpets playing a greater role than double kick pedals.

The first of the album’s three tracks, “Let There Be Light,” is built upon some deep bass notes which form a subtle yet purposeful progression. Droning violins and trumpets haunt much of the mid range, scraping and whistling along until a drum break propels the song into a more conventional second movement. “Western Horn” is a contradiction, in that it is a drone piece that never really seems to go anywhere, but does so (or fails to do so) in an interesting and arresting manner. The fourteen-and-a-half-minute “Eternal Return” is more properly a song than a drone piece. It has vocals and lyrics and everything! It takes forever to get where it’s going, toiling through a rather conventional keyboard-driven vocal section in the middle before unwinding in arrays and disarrays of violin squiggles and hammered dulcimer doodles.

On the whole this is an album that demands the attention of an LP but provides in return the rewards of only an EP. It’s a bit slight in both running length and general achievement. It has its interesting textures and builds but also its dull moments and predictable paths.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Sun Kil Moon - Benji

Sun Kil Moon
Benji
11 February 2014
Caldo Verde

4.5 stars out of 5

 

Sun Kil Moon’s sixth album, and Mark Kozelek’s twenty-first album overall, is named after the 1974 film featuring the little dog. Lyrically, the record is an exploration of what it feels like to be 46 and be thinking a lot about death. Kozelek’s completely unadorned lyrics are as frank and open as those of anyone making a living off of writing songs today. It’s almost an anti-poetry in its avoidance of all poetic devices; this is precisely what makes it so strong as poetry.

“Carissa” is a gentle tune telling how Kozelek heard about the death of his second cousin and how he’s going to go back to Ohio to pay his respects. Like most of the rest of the album, it features only acoustic guitar, backing vocals, and Kozelek’s subtly crackling voice. On the bereft “Truck Driver,” Kozelek tells about going to his uncle’s funeral. Drums make their first appearance on “Dogs,” an unhinged account of various fleeting encounters and their consequences, good or bad. “Pray for Newtown” winds between the personal and the political, recalling Kozelek’s reactions to the mass shooting and his evolving thoughts on the matter. There are light hearted moments on the album too—the ode to his father, “I Love My Dad,” features one of the funniest lines of the year so far: “When I was five I came home from kindergarten crying because they sat me next to an albino.” The epic-length “I Watched the Film The Song Remains the Same” is an autobiographical examination of melancholia. Then, realizing he needs “one more track to finish off the record,” Kozelek gives us “Ben’s My Friend,” a jazzy and hilarious romp through random events in a typical day, and probably the best tossed-off five and a half minutes of filler you’ll hear this year.

Kozelek is perhaps the anti-Bowie (who he name checks) in that where Bowie is constantly changing and trying on new identities, Kozelek is constantly stripping away the affectations and trying to be only himself. Benji is as refreshing and thought-provoking as its namesake is stale and banal. There’s not even the slightest hint at an effort to be “cool” or “current” or “edgy” here, just honest openness and humility.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Katy B - Little Red

Katy B
Little Red
7 February 2014
Rinse/Columbia/Sony

3 stars out of 5

 

On Little Red, Katy B has forsaken the dubstep touches that made On a Mission a memorable moment among the otherwise disposable dance pop rotation of 2011 (or any other given year). What remains is pretty much the same album, minus what made her debut something special. This is still a very danceable record that will probably saturate the world’s shopping malls and teenage parties for the next few months. It should be pretty easy to pick up the used CD at second hand stores by July or August, so there’s always a plus side.

The opening “Next Thing” offers 1994 house vibes with 2014 production, a template which is maintained for the rest of the record. After the mostly forgettable “5 AM,” things get a little more interesting with “Aaliyah,” a dark number featuring fellow British chanteuse Jessie Ware. It’s still in the same retro house vein, but it’s got spark. “I Like You” has a bit of an edge, flirting with Incunabula-era Autrechre sounds in its fourth quarter, but still remaining firmly in the dance pop genre. “Everything” and “Sapphire Blue” have catchy choruses, but the remainder of the album is generally standard fare.

If you lived through the Top 40 dance tracks of the ‘90s you’ve already heard this record in one form or another. There are even hints of a drum’n’bass break on “Emotions.” Mind you, Katy B’s take on this genre sounds fresh and almost exciting. Enjoy it while you can, however, because while this is a generally fun record, it will likely be forgotten by the year’s end.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

ceo - Wonderland

ceo
Wonderland
3 February 2014
Sincerely Yours

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Wonderland is former The Tough Alliance member and Gothenburg citizen Eric Berglund’s second album as ceo. As one might expect, it’s full of sunny vocal melodies laid overtop bouncy Baleric pop electronics. A satisfying record on the whole, it’s not a particularly deep musical statement, but it’s fun and has enough going on to make it interesting and engaging.

“Whorehouse” is a bouncy 2014 revival of the ‘70s revival of ‘50s doo-wop pop set to the latest bleeps and bloops. The irrepressibly sunny “Harakiri” is the first of several instrumental tracks on the album. Picture a mid-tempo ballad by The Cure with plenty of vocal samples and you’ve got the idea. “Mirage,” besides containing the most complex vocal melody on the album, is an arresting tune made out of moody keyboards and minor key angst. The rhythmic samples of “Wonderland” make it sound strangely like Skinny Puppy’s “Assimilate,” sped up and topped off with a pop melody. “Ultrakaos” is a busy mostly-instrumental danceable track that also makes for interesting listening for listening’s sake. It has enough details to make a close listening worth it and enough energy to keep your feet moving. The closing “OMG” somehow manages to make a sad and nostalgic song sound sunny and positive.

Berglund’s dense compositions are anathema for fans of minimalism. This is some very busy music, where every single space, no matter how small, is filled with something surprising and new. ceo is all about the little details, hiding in plain sight in the dazzling Baleric sunshine. A solid record from a talented musician.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Marissa Nadler - July

Marissa Nadler
July
4 February 2014
Sacred Bones

3.5 stars out of 5

 

July is Boston folkstress Marissa Nadler’s sixth LP. It sounds a lot like Marissa Nadler’s previous five LPs. This is a good thing. Her deceptively delicate voice can cut and dismember as easily as it can calm and comfort, and it’s the centerpiece of some of her best songs here.

The beautifully haunting opening track, “Drive,” immediately plunges the listener into a world where even the most subtle instrumental embellishments have meaning. Nadler’s solo acoustic guitar carries most of the weight; the distant strings and pedal steel are quiet accompaniments meant to emphasize rather than to unnecessarily fill out the sound. “Firecrackers” is a lonely Hollywood musical show tune stripped down to acoustic guitar and Nadler’s at once mournful and ecstatic voice. “We Are Coming Back” snakes through shadowy, leaf-strewn terrain in search of its prey. The excellent “Dead City Emily” is every moody and tense film score combined into one. “Desire” floats in the same ethereal mist-filled desolate meadows as much of Nadler’s other work. This is not to say it’s repetitive. Nadler’s music works well precisely because of these qualities and stops working as well when she attempts more “upbeat” compositions. Another case in point is the folk noir “Anyone Else,” which could be from the soundtrack to a mythical third season of Twin Peaks. Not all of the LP is as uniformly strong as these tracks, and the album has its lulls and less captivating moments in between the riveting ones.

“Maybe it’s the weather, but I got nothing in my heart,” sings Nadler on the closing track. I respectfully disagree. This album is full of emotion, propelled by Nadler’s trademark room-silencing vocals. It’s a solid if not quite great effort, but contains plenty of moments to make it worth listening to more than once.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Xiu Xiu - Angel Guts: Red Classroom

Xiu Xiu
Angel Guts: Red Classroom
4 February 2014
Polyvinyl/Bella Union

4.5 stars out of 5

 

Perhaps the American indie scene’s most notoriously difficult listen, the music of Xiu Xiu is as uncompromising as it is unparalleled. The band’s ninth album, Angel Guts: Red Classroom, based on the 1979 Nikkatsu Roman porno film of the same name (or 天使のはらわた 赤い教室 if you prefer),, is perhaps Jamie Stewart & Co.’s bleakest album yet (which is saying a fucking lot). The LP is also incredibly focused, and, if one could use such a term for such unsettling music, beautiful in its naked torment.

“Archie’s Fades” is Throbbing Gristle meets… well, Jamie Stewart. The guy’s inimitable. Late ‘70s industrial music themes on new technology, but the result is as fresh as it is dark. The beginning of “Stupid in the Dark” could be from a lost Suicide track, but then the song breaks into a typically-cathartic Xiu Xiu chorus, a reminder of how easily this band inverts and distorts pop music structures and conceits for their own very non-pop uses. “Black Dick” is as lyrically disturbing as it is sonically disorienting, all to fantastic effect. The neo-Residents cacophony of “EL Naco” will likely send both your cats and dogs running for cover. “Adult Friends” condenses all the tension and fear of the entire film noir era of Hollywood into a quick 2:24, and then throws in some more tension and fear for good measure. “The Silver Platter” is more intense than anything Alan Vega and Martin Rev ever achieved while using the same basic blueprint of one-note keyboard melody and half-screamed, half-sobbed vocals. “A Knife in the Sun” ventures into Einstürzende Neubauten territory, full of F.M. Einheit-style percussive mayhem. And, if you can believe it, the album gets even more intense after all of this. “Cinthya’s Unisex” is fucking crazy. I’m still shaking my head in amazement at this song. I’m not even going to describe it—go listen to it yourself and then pick your jaw up off the floor. The closing song (the proper final track isn’t exactly a song as such) “Botanica de Los Angeles” is possibly as close to an epic rock anthem as Xiu Xiu can get, but rest assured it is most definitely not safe for prime time radio.

Angel Guts: Red Classroom is a stunning achievement. When all the dust has settled, this might be Xiu Xiu’s magnum opus. It’s certainly their best work to date out of a career that’s been full of “this is their best album ever!” moments, and probably the best record I’ve heard by anyone in the last couple of years.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Broken Bells - After the Disco

Broken Bells
After the Disco
4 February 2014
Columbia

3 stars out of 5

Broken Bells = Brian Burton (a.k.a. Danger Mouse) + James Mercer (of The Shins). In a perfect world this would be a collaboration which produced fine fruits, combining the strengths of both artists into a delicious plate of juicy funk and tasty pop. Unfortunately, something must have gone wrong somewhere between the planting of the seeds and the harvesting of the crop, for the resulting still life is still and lifeless.

The mostly uninteresting “Perfect World” introduces the record, a harkening back to the New Wave, though lacking much energy or inspiration. It’s a worrying start. “After the Disco” is equally dull and drab, drowning in watered-down production and boring instrumentation. One wonders if DM was even present in the studio for the recording as it contains none of his usual creativity. “Holding on for Life” features a chorus of Bee Gees sound-alikes. An attempt to cash in on the lucrative (but god awful) Daft Punk/Justin Timberlake voyage into the seas of cheesy disco? More stale cheese from the ‘70s emerges on the Eagles-tinged “Leave It Alone,” though admittedly this is probably the best track on the album for Mercer’s vocals. Things become a bit more promising with “The Changing Lights,” a decent track built around some dribbling percussion. “No Matter What You’re Told” finally delivers on the promise of the super duo, a smart and sharp ditty full of lively performances and inspired arrangements. The problem is that we have had to wait through eight tracks of mediocrity to get to this point, and probably would have been better off just getting the one song for our iPods and leaving it at that.

The album closes on the stronger “The Remains of Rock and Roll,” but it’s basically too little, too late at this point. While the second half of the album is stronger than the first, that’s a bit like saying that wet toilet paper is stronger than slightly wetter toilet paper. While nothing here is bad per se, almost all of it is infuriatingly bland. It’s advised to wait for fresher fruit from other vendors.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Bombay Bicycle Club - So Long, See You Tomorrow

Bombay Bicycle Club
So Long, See You Tomorrow
3 February 2014
Island

4.5 stars out of 5

 

Bombay Bicycle Club’s fourth LP, So Long, See You Tomorrow, sees the band completely transformed from a guitar-based indie rock band into an exciting and dynamic beast that can devour all styles. Each of the ten new songs is unique in feel and approach. Band leader Jack Steadman’s voice is at its emotive best and the rest of the group has enthusiastically followed him on this eccentric journey through music.

“Overdone” sets the scene: lush but not overdone instrumentation, exciting vocal and instrumental melodies—a rock song with ambition and the ability to back it up. “It’s Alright Now” begins to reveal the influence of the Gothenburg scene on Steadman’s songwriting. It’s a complex composition whose arrangement brings it focus and whose soaring chorus is immediately gratifying though full of subtleties. With “Carry Me” the album takes a more electronic feel, sounding a bit like Hot Chip crossed with Yeasayer. The mid-tempo “Home by Now” is the best ballad that Stars never wrote. “Luna” brings polyrhythmic percussion into the mix, forming the melodic backdrop to an upbeat but disarmingly vulnerable pop song. Built upon an incredibly simple two piano chord progression, “Eyes Off You” moves along an achingly beautiful arc from atmospheric desolation to a warm rhythmic embrace and back. The album closes with the title track, a nuanced composition featuring Fleet Foxes-like vocal harmonies, oddball keyboard loops, explosive tempo changes, and a multi-layered ecstatic chorus.

Everything on this album works, from the ambitious arrangements to Lucy Rose’s haunting guest vocals. There isn’t a single dull moment in the ten songs. The band doesn’t make any misteps, capably handling every genre it chooses to mine for musical gold. An early contender for a few year-end lists.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Hospitality - Trouble

Hospitality
Trouble
28 January 2014
Merge

3 stars out of 5

 

Hospitality is the songwriting vehicle for Brooklynite Amber Papini. The indie pop outfit’s second album, Trouble, recalls The Breeders and Metric in its songcraft and especially in Papini’s voice. The album has some pleasant and mildly interesting moments, but also some dull padding in the form of several unnecessary tracks.

“Nightingale” resurrects the ghost of The Breeders’ Pod, from Amber Papini’s dry Deal-ish vocal delivery to the song’s stop-and-start construction and proto-grunge guitar. “Going Out” sees Papini doing her best Cat Power impression over a breezy and mildly-funky French pop tune. Papini’s guitar soloing near the end of the jagged “I Miss Your Bones” is both oddly unsettling and impossible to ignore. “Rockets and Jets” is a catchy minor key pop song in the vein of Old World Underground-era Metric. One of the more immediately memorable tracks on the record, it seems tailor-made for college radio medium rotation. “Last Words” builds over six minutes a subtle Junior Boys-style groove and melody coupled with even more bizarre guitar noodling from Papini. The remainder of the album is generally not worth remarking upon, unfortunately.

Perhaps Trouble would have been stronger if it had been released as a five-track EP instead of in its present eleven-track form. Papini’s songwriting strengths are shown in “Nightingale” and “Rockets and Jets”; however, her inconsistency is also shown by the inclusion of weak compositions such as “It’s Not Serious” and “Sullivan.” A more focused third album which played to her strengths would be welcome to my headphones.

reviewed by Richard Krueger