Owls - Two

Owls
Two
25 March 2014
Polyvinyl

4 stars out of 5

 

Owls’ second LP, the very accurately titled Two, sees the band formerly known as Cap’n Jazz offering up some pleasing experimental emo tunes. It has moments which sound like early Foals (“Why Oh Why”), others which sound like Mary Timony (“The Lion”), still others which recall The Dismemberment Plan (“This Must Be How”), and still still others which contain echoes of late Sunny Day Real Estate (“Ancient Stars Seed”). All of these moments are good moments, as is the rest of the record. This group of talented and visionary musicians has released three albums to date, the one and only Cap’n Jazz LP back in 1994 (they would break up the following year), the first LP as Owls in 2001 (they would break up again the following year), and now a third session (after reuniting in 2012) and a third LP in 2014.

The LP begins deceptively accessibly (by Owls standards) with “Four Works of Art,” then veers into left field with “I’m Surprised,” an attempt at a pop song that is as catchy as it is unconventional. “Why Oh Why” begins to chomp at the bit a bit more eagerly, trying to break free of the restraints of “rock and roll” while still retaining some traditional aspects. With tracks seven and eight—“It Collects Itself” and “I’ll Never Be”—Two discards any remaining semblances of pop song pretention and heads straight for the abstract/experimental exhibit. This is some of their strongest material under either band name.

Two is a sleeper. It slowly and quietly sends its tendrils to climb your legs and arms to ensnare you and then sinks its hooks into you so you can’t escape. And you won’t want to escape. With each listen the album becomes more intense, more powerful, and—like a good opiate should—more addictive.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Ages and Ages - Divisionary

Ages and Ages
Divisionary
25 March 2014
Partisan

2.5 stars out of 5

If future genetic engineers ever decide to combine the DNA of Animal Collective with that of Fleetwood Mac, let’s hope they get a lot better results than Ages and Ages. I assume this Portland seven piece is an entertaining live act—with every member of the band singing along to some very sing-along-able material, how could they screw that up? Gospel music without the whole annoying religion thing would probably be a good time, even if somewhat troubled by cognitive dissonance. In short, it would take a lot effort for such a band to suck live. In the recording studio, however, where you can’t depend on stage gimmicks and crowd participation, you’re stuck with just your mediocre tunes, and no amount of “C’mon people, clap your hands!” is going to save you.

There is definitely a market for bland music. If there weren’t, we wouldn’t have Jack Johnson, Barenaked Ladies, and such as. And if Ages and Ages can find a niche for themselves in that vacuous world, good for them. Someone needs to fill the hockey arenas of the Sioux Falls of this world, right? There’s always people who want to hear major chords played on acoustic guitar and single-note piano melodies, accompanying vocal harmonies with all of the edges sanded off and all of the imagination and inspiration mechanically separated. Much of Divisionary is the musical equivalent of a Chicken McNugget: lacking much in the way of colour, flavour, or texture, easy to swallow, requiring minimal mastication or digestion, and instantly forgettable.

I hesitate to describe Ages and Ages as a novelty act—I made that mistake when Beck first appeared and have been proven again and again to have been dead wrong—but there’s a whole lot of gimmickry going on here. Indeed, a good novelty act uses liberal doses of scathing satirical social commentary, whereas Ages and Ages appear to be one hundred per cent honest and earnest in their blandness. While I suppose there is some virtue in being bland and proud (as opposed to being ironically bland), most virtues, like this record, aren’t all they’ve been hyped up to be.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Future Islands - Singles

Future Islands
Singles
24 March 2014
4AD

3 stars out of 5

 

Singles is the fourth studio LP by Baltimore’s (by way of Greenville, North Carolina) synthpop ensemble Future Islands. For a quick musical description, imagine Van Morrison fronting Simple Minds (or perhaps Feargal Sharkey fronting Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark). Singer Samuel Herring’s mouth, throat, and lungs work together to produce some crazy-ass soulful sounds, providing an unexpected counterpoint to Gerrit Welmers’s New Wave-y synth melodies, which in turn sometimes sit rather awkwardly on the same cramped loveseat as William Cashion’s post-grunge-y guitars, but are usually accompanied by the latter’s rather more appropriate picked bass.

When it works, as it does with the second track, “Spirit,” it works very well. At other times, such as during all of “A Song for Our Grandfathers,” nothing works. I could toss around accusations of cheese and sap, but it’s not worth my time. And, for some unknown reason, Herring decides to invoke the extreme metal gods and unleash a few death growls on “Fall from Grace,” an otherwise very un-metal slow synthpop track. Luckily, the album closes with the much stronger “A Dream of You and Me,” a New Wave-y ditty that would have gotten regular rotation on the airways 30 years ago. The last line of lyric on the record is “staring at the sea,” although, in case you were curious, nothing on this LP resembles The Cure in the slightest.

Future Islands is one of the weirder American synthpop-revival bands out there today, mostly because of Herring’s singing. Musically, they toe the straight and narrow, but Herring continuously colours outside the lines with his adventurous vocal pencil crayons. Perhaps if their music became as adventurous as the vocals this would be a very good band, but for the time being they’re just a very good idea for a band.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

The Hold Steady - Teeth Dreams

The Hold Steady
Teeth Dreams
25 March 2014
Washington Square

3 stars out of 5

 

The sixth LP by Brooklyn’s The Hold Steady, Teeth Dreams, sees the trad rockers resting in a comfortable place, content with their basic guitar rock template which has proven so successful in the past. Singer Craig Finn’s lyrics are still multi-faceted stories of (sub)urban angst, full of pain, drugs, mistakes, and long lost lovers. This album doesn’t have the energy or the massive hooks of their 2006 classic Boys and Girls in America, but then who has even come close to that in the last eight years? Nobody. One of the unfortunate consequences having created such an undisputed masterpiece is that everything that follows is going to be a disappointment, regardless of its merits as a stand-alone piece.

In the case of The Hold Steady’s new LP, it would have been a disappointment even if it were the band’s debut. Unlike the band’s critically-lauded Boys and Girls or Separation Sunday, there’s not really much to differentiate the songs from each other on Teeth Dreams. The departure of keyboardist Franz Nicolay before 2010’s Heaven Is Whenever has had a homogenizing effect on the band’s sound—even the tracks on Boys and Girls which didn’t feature much in the way of keys were still distinct and memorable. Not here. The songs which comprise Teeth Dreams are solid enough alternative rock tunes, but the album goes by with little to hold onto except for Finn’s adept storytelling skills. But even while Finn still delivers the goods, his delivery seems a little tired, and the goods sparkle a little less than they once did.

While there are some satisfying rockers on this record, there’s little incentive to return to them again and again like the band’s earlier work. Because The Hold Steady remains faithful to their basic template, this album would probably work very well in a live setting, but Teeth Dreams likely will never make it into your List of the Top Three Hold Steady Records. For long time fans, check out the epic album closer “Oaks.” It’s a keeper. For the rest of you, check out their earlier material, specifically their first three LPs. You won’t be disappointed.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Liars - Mess

Liars
Mess
24 March 2014
Mute

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Mess is the seventh LP by Liars, and it sees the band playing with EBM themes that would have been fresh in 1990, but which in 2014 are more nostalgic than cutting edge. That’s not to say that Mess sounds stale or derivative—it's neither. It’s a fun record that has both danceable and head-nodding moments.

“Mask Maker” begins in a late-‘80s industrial groove, somewhat like Nitzer Ebb or Front Line Assembly. It runs seamlessly into the next track, “Vox Tuned D.E.D.,” which continues the same theme. The first half of “I’m No Gold” could pass for FLA circa Tactical Neural Implant if it wasn’t for Angus Andrew’s vocals, which don’t resemble Bill Leeb’s in the slightest; however, the second half of the song is more disco-meets-funky house. “Pro Anti Anti” is dance floor-ready industrial in the vein of KMFDM or late-‘90s FLA. It’s an appealing, accessible, and fun dance track despite its dark sounds and almost menacing vocals. The sci-fi lyrical slant of “Mess on a Mission” only enhances its silly but quite fun robot bleep-filled groove. “Darkslide” could be by another Vancouver industrial outfit, platEAU. It’s an instrumental track that plays with minimalist refrains and subtle atmospherics and ends up being one of the more satisfying songs on the record. “Perpetual Village” is the album’s centrepiece: nine minutes of a brooding, bass-anchored groove, sprinkled with feedback and angst.

The final track, “Left Speaker Blown,” is a slow dirge that, combined with “Perpetual Village,” forms a coda to the album that charts an entirely different course from that of the preceding music. The sombre and mournful tones unfold in stark relief to the playful beats of “Mess on a Mission” or “Pro Anti Anti.” While this isn’t Liars’ best work, Mess has its moments and ends strongly.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

La Dispute - Rooms of the House

La Dispute
Rooms of the House
18 March 2014
Better Living

4.5 stars out of 5

 

Grand Rapids, Michigan’s post-hardcore combo La Dispute’s third LP, Rooms of the House, is a concept album centered on the contents—photos and other artifacts—that lead vocalist Jordan Dreyer—or a character played by him—finds in a(n abandoned?) house. Musically, the album is a hybrid of Tortoise-like math rock grooves and At the Drive-in-style post-hardcore energy, mood, and textures. The listener is immersed in a nostalgic world of car accidents and snow storms through Dreyer’s stream-of-consciousness lyrics. The album is presented in what seem to be three chapters: “HUDSONVILLE MI 1956,” “SCENES FROM HIGHWAYS 1981-2009,” and “THE CHILD WE LOST 1963,” each chapter introduced by a song of the same title.

“First Reactions After Falling Through the Ice” is an impressionist retelling of a near drowning, presented in disjointed frames cut from a frantic home movie. “Woman (In Mirror)” sees the band taking a break from post-hardcore intensity and settling into a groove reminiscent of The War on Drugs (see Friday’s review). On “SCENES FROM…” Dreyer sings, “I think history’s a system of roads and there’s nowhere it doesn’t go.” The lyric reveals a lot about his ideas of storytelling and about the concepts he’s manipulating within the scope of this album. “35” describes the collapsing of the I-35W Mississippi River bridge during the Minneapolis evening rush hour of 1 August 2007, and the struggles of the drivers and passengers to free themselves from their vehicles as they fill up with water and sink into the unforgiving river. Did Dreyer witness the collapse first-hand as his lyrics would suggest, or is he placing himself at the scene to better understand the character he may or may not be playing?

Rooms of the House closes with “Objects in Space,” a description of Dreyer’s surroundings—objects, artifacts, photographs—as he finishes writing the album and packs everything away. While there may be a few red flags raised when one reads “post-hardcore concept album” and “At the Drive-in” in the same review, rest assured that the pretentiousness is kept to a minimum here. Dreyer is at times a sound-alike for Cedric Bixler, but La Dispute leans far more towards the math rock end of the spectrum (think Slint deciding to rock out) than the prog rock end. Highly recommended.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

The War on Drugs - Lost in the Dream

The War on Drugs
Lost in the Dream
18 March 2014
Secretly Canadian

4 stars out of 5

 

Adam Granduciel’s band The War on Drugs has made a couple of very good records since the departure of Kurt Vile (not to slight Vile at all—his solo stuff is great): 2011’s Slave Ambient and now Lost in the Dream. The new LP is a lovely piece of work, full of relaxed but vital mid-length songs that unfold naturally into abstract guitar paintings. It’s definitely music you can zone out to—it can have the same sort of mesmerizing effect as a good dub album—but it has enough interesting details that a close listening is equally rewarding.

The opening track, “Under the Pressure,” is almost nine minutes of pure bliss: one gets the feeling that if Don Henley could have ever done anything worthwhile in his career, it would have been but a feeble imitation of this song. Its mid-‘80s vibe works seamlessly with its mid-‘00s instrumentation—layers of delays on both guitar and piano, a near ambient drone of an ending—to form something very mid-‘10s. “Suffering” slows things down to a funeral march, but one that shimmers with cathartic guitar release and an affirmative, steady groove. “An Ocean Between the Waves” and “Disappearing” keep up the extended ambient-ish rock explorations, while “The Haunting Idle” is an exercise in full-on beatless ambient guitar textures. “In Reverse” successfully merges the ‘70s American rock anthem à la Bruce Springsteen with some sounds that could be made by a guitar version of Autechre. (Hold on, I just have to think about that for a moment, because it’s so bizarre. But it’s true.)

This is a very good record, alllllllmost as good as Kurt Vile’s Wakin on a Pretty Daze. Sorry for making the comparison, but it’s what I’m forced to do in this business: compare things, decide which one is better than the other. You, gentle and forgiving reader, may have the freedom to be as heedlessly subjective as you desire, but I, alas, have no such right or privilege. I’m forced to assign an abstract number (in this case a 4, meaning “very good”) to these things, and that’s never easy. Listening to and enjoying this record is incredibly easy, however, and I recommend that you do that at your earliest convenience.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Kevin Drew - Darlings

Kevin Drew
Darlings
18 March 2014
Arts & Crafts

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Darlings is the second solo LP by Broken Social Scene founding member Kevin Drew. In case you’ve been living somewhere without internet, radio, television, or smoke signals for the last fifteen years, Broken Social Scene is a Toronto-based band that includes every known Canadian musician in existence among its members, including Feist, Emily Haines, Amy Millan, Avril Lavigne, Gordon Lightfoot, Leonard Cohen, Celine Dion, Robbie Robertson, Paul Anka, and, of course, Peaches. Because Darlings is a solo record, it includes guest appearances from only thirty-eight other BSS members. Hahahahahaha jk! It really is basically just Kevin Drew, with minimal participation from other musicians. As a result, it sounds far less cluttered than, say, Broken Social Scene did. Drew’s songs have space to breathe here instead of being overwhelmed by infinite layers of redundant instrumentation. Several songs have that trademark BSS feel to them: “Bullshit Ballad” and “You Gotta Feel It” are prime examples, full of repetitive guitar riffs that subtly shift and slither, intensity built through overdubs upon overdubs of ecstatic vocals, and Drew’s simultaneously warm and alien-like singing.

“Body Butter” and “Good Sex” show off Drew’s sense of humour and set the lyrical theme for the record. “Mexican After Show Party” could be from an alternate universe BSS, one that was formed in the middle of the 1980s and featured members of The Parachute Club, Men Without Hats, and Platinum Blonde. “You in Your Were” reaches that trance-like place where BSS often end up in their music, a place where apotheotic [not a real word, but I don’t care] repetition and unselfish, restrained jamming creates a very acceptable substitute for psychedelic drugs. The keyboard-centered “And That’s All I Know” rounds things out with equal doses of delicate forgiveness and delicious regret.

Darlings contains some solid songs but in the end it doesn’t satisfy quite as much as the main touchstones in the Broken Social Scene canon, namely You Forgot It in People and their eponymous third LP. Perhaps there is some magic in the mayhem and the clutter of those works after all, or perhaps these new songs just aren’t as strong as the older material. Regardless, Darlings is worth a listen or five, but likely won’t make it into your long-term regular rotation.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Sisyphus - Sisyphus

Sisyphus
Sisyphus
18 March 2014
Asthmatic Kitty

4 stars out of 5

 

Take two alternative hip-hop MCs (Serengeti and Son Lux), add one indie scene wunderkind (Sufjan Stevens), sauté in olive oil on high heat for five minutes, add a bit of sea salt and fresh grated parmesan, and you get Sisyphus, a hip-hop/indie electronica mélange that goes down nicely with a cold beer and a side of yam fries with chipotle mayo. Half atmospheric, melancholic electro-soul, half underground hip-hop, Sisyphus is an intriguing idea that rewards with endlessly listenable results.

The trio starts things off with “Calm It Down,” playful left-field funk that veers off into introspective soul searching territory for its finale. “Take Me” is quiet electro balladdeering à la James Blake or How to Dress Well. “Rhythm of Devotion” is equal parts undaground rhymez and sensitive soul. “Lion’s Share” is the funkiest track on the record, centered on the two MCs trading lines back and forth while Stevens provides ice cold backing vocals that keep things from getting too funky. “Dishes in the Sink” weaves all the previous threads of the record through a loom of broken beat tomfoolery. “Alcohol” ends the record with a near industrial beat and some nimble rhyming, winding out with a grandiose, mostly-instrumental ending.

I’ve always felt rather neutral toward Sufjan Stevens, but I can’t deny liking this record. It’s inventive, interesting, and catchy. If my iPod hadn’t been stolen last summer, I would put Sisyphus on it tonight and listen to it on my way to work tomorrow. Instead, I’m forced to just stand there on the train and listen to my own version of “Lion’s Share” in my head, in which I get all the lyrics wrong and change the instrumentation to include various imaginary instruments made out of the sun-bleached bones of the person who stole my iPod. Someday, you will pay, fucker. Someday...

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Johnny Foreigner - You Can Do Better

Johnny Foreigner
You Can Do Better
10 March 2014
Alcopop!

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Almost a decade after the UK indie rock explosion of the mid-oughts, Birmingham’s indie rock purists Johnny Foreigner drop their fourth LP, You Can Do Better. It’s full of sharp little ditties in the vein of Silent Alarm, with nary a keyboard nor an attempt to step outside of the genre in sight. And that’s perfectly fine, because it all works. Johnny Foreigner might be out of step with the world of music in 2014, but they don’t appear to give a rat’s ass about that, and neither do I, really.

“Shipping” and “Le Sigh” open the album with an urgent indie rock one-two punch. It’s loud guitar-based angst played with energy, not irony. “In Capitals” keeps things going, showcasing the male-female vocal interplay between guitarist Alexei Berrow and bassist Kelly Southern. “Riff Glitchard” sees things becoming a bit more introspective and disassembled, a bit reminiscent of The Dismemberment Plan, with Southern taking over lead vocals. The album climbs to its summit with “To the Death,” a near perfect indie rock tune with everything you could hope for from such a genre piece in three and a half minutes. The closing track, a somewhat epic and almost experimental piece titled “Devastator,” brings all of the album’s musical themes together (that is to say, all aspects of its one musical theme) in an engaging, sprawling, and complicated seven minutes.

As English indie rock records go, this is one of the better recent albums in that tradition. That it was recorded in 2013 instead of 2005 is a little disorienting, though if countless other acts can get away being stuck in the musical past, there’s no reason why Johnny Foreigner can’t as well. The difference is that with JF it’s not an ironic pose or a fashionable affectation, it’s the real deal, and their music benefits as a result.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Elbow - The Take Off and Landing of Everything

Elbow
The Take Off and Landing of Everything
10 March 2014
Fiction

3 stars out of 5

 

Elbow isn’t exactly an exciting band. They’re not about energy, nor innovation, nor fun. They’re not danceable. They don’t rock. They’re not dark or weird enough to be cool and they’re not happy enough for radio. And yet they’ve managed to survive long enough to release their sixth LP, The Take Off and Landing of Everything, on a label previously synonymous with The Cure, Fiction Records.

 

“This Blue World” starts things off with the sedate, reserved, and melancholy dirge that is typical of Elbow these days. The second track, “Charge,” sees singer Guy Garvey sounding almost exactly like Peter Gabriel, at whose Real World Studios some of The Take Off was recorded. “Real Life (Angel)” is typical of the album: a slower than average tempo, essentially two chords, and clocking in at almost seven minutes. There’s not much to immediately differentiate much of what’s on this LP. Though, in all fairness, there’s more variety here than on a typical Ramones record. There’s nothing particularly bad or offensively bland here, but there’s nothing great or especially memorable either. I’ve listened to a few of these tracks three times now and I couldn’t hum for you their melodies from memory, because there’s nothing about them that would make them stick in your head.

I’d like to offer a few words in closing, but there’s really not much to say here. If you were to download only one track from this album I’d recommend “Charge”; it’s the most distinctive, though as such is the least definitive. If Elbow is your thing, you likely won’t be disappointed with this record. If they’re not your thing, you’re not missing anything.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Mø - No Mythologies to Follow

Mø
No Mythologies to Follow
10 March 2014
Chess Club

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Danish singer Mø (the pseudonym of Karen Marie Ørsted) presents her first LP of dance floor-oriented pop, No Mythologies to Follow, from which half of the material—a whopping six tracks—has already been released as singles. While musically there are no boundaries being pushed here, Mø often uses her voice itself in place of keyboards to deliver additional textures and fills. There are some satisfying contemporary grooves on display, populated with nifty melodic hooks.

From the first couple of minutes of the opening track, “Fire Rides,” it’s apparent that Mø has a little more going for her than your average dance popster. Primarily, she has a surprisingly deep and soulful voice for a Scandinavian. Secondly, she has attitude. Lyrically, this is pedestrian stuff, but one doesn’t exactly expect one’s dance pop to read like Proust or Dostoyevsky. The Motown-inspired third track, “Never Wanna Know,” is a low point, but it’s smooth sailing after that for this Viking maiden. The LP peaks with “Waste of Time,” a well-penned dark R&B ode to angry resentment that will have you hitting the repeat button multiple times. “XXX 88,” featuring Diplo, and “Walk This Way” are both catchy tunes, and the closing song, “Glass,” floats above the iPod and away into the clouds, leaving behind only its obscenely memorable hook in your head as you lay yourself down to sleep after a long day.

I have to admit I was presently surprised by this record, as my only previous exposure to Mø came the morning after a housewarming party at my place, surrounded by empty bottles and glasses, eating grapes with my girlfriend, and watching the video for “Waste of Time” with the sound so low it was almost off. That video annoyed the shit out of me. Thankfully, the LP is much less annoying than its associated visuals. If only life were always like that.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Laibach - Spectre

Laibach
Spectre
3 March 2014
Mute

2 stars out of 5

 

Ljubljana, Slovenia’s Laibach have always been controversial and subject to extensive misinterpretation. Fascists? Nazis, even? Well, no, but if you look simply at their uniforms and glance at their lyrics you’d be forgiven for not recognizing the irony. “Laibach,” after all, is the name the Nazis gave to Ljubljana during their occupation of the city in World War II. Part of the band’s purposeful technique of absorbing “the mannerisms of the enemy,” the name, the outfits, and the lyrics of Laibach have all been directed at very specific political targets, fascism being one of the most important. Over thirty years into their career, they give us Spectre, which deals lyrically with topics such as the evils of capitalism and the anxieties felt in Europe over immigration.

“Spectre” is a bizarre military march (well, not bizarre for Laibach), complete with whistling soldiers, that (perhaps predictably) turns into an EBM patriotic anthem, in which the band promises to fight for you. Fight for you in what cause? Well, against the man, of course. Against capitalism, the military-industrial complex, and all that. “No History” is more direct Euro-Industrial dance music, while “Eat Liver!” is a borderline silly track, sung by Melodrom member Mina Špiler (Špiler is now a full-time member of both Melodrom and Laibach). “We Are Millions and Millions Are One” continues the rather mundane parade of vague anti-capitalist lyrics, though musically it’s perhaps the most accessible track on the album (not that there’s anything especially challenging here). “Europe is falling apart,” sings Milan Fras in “Eurovision,” a bleak look at the continent amidst a euro in turmoil and cities erupting in protest and burning in riots. “Koran,” the closer, is the stand-out track on the album. Cloaked in ambiguity, the lyrics comment on the belief in a better world, brotherhood, equality, freedom, and happiness for all. But whose point of view is Fras adopting here? What “words can take us far away,” and why were they weapons just a moment before? Feel free to interpret and misinterpret as you desire.

There are points on Spectre where Laibach sounds more like (later period, watered-down) KMFDM than like Laibach. The music on this album is sanitized EBM-by-numbers, the lyrics full of trite sound bites rather than deep manifesto. In short, this ain’t no Opus Dei or Let It Be. Really, it’s barely a WWIII. But is that the point? Is Laibach parodying itself, telling us a tale about how political music is irrelevant in our post-Occupy Wall Street™, Upworthy-fuelled world?

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Dean Wareham - Dean Wareham

Dean Wareham
Dean Wareham
10 March 2014
Sonic Cathedrals

3 stars out of 5

 

Former Galaxie 500 and Luna front man Dean Wareham presents us with his first solo LP, titled, aptly enough, That Guy from Galaxie 500. Ha! I kid. It’s called Dean Wareham, and I’m going to type a few words about it in the space below. Some of these words will be adjectives, and many of these adjectives will not be positive.

The first five songs on this record are dull. Uninteresting. Boring. “But!” sayeth thou, “I don’t think you get, I mean really get, the whole magic of Galaxie 500, Mr. Review Man!” Actually, I do get it. I fucking love Galaxie 500. And, no, I didn’t expect nine remakes of “Blue Thunder” here on Wareham’s initial solo LP. But I did at the very least expect some sort of spark. Or at least a sign that the man was awake during the writing and recording process. So, to minimize my negative adjective usage, on to track number six: “Holding Pattern” is a happening good tune. It’s got a great melody, that great Wareham forlornness, some great G5C-style guitar soloing, and—WTF?!—a great beat. “I Can Only Give My All” cleverly outlines Wareham’s (symbolic?) relationship with a woman as personified by a Roland 808. This song almost rocks. “Babes in the Woods” continues the winning streak, bringing an almost Neil Young-like vibe to an extended adventure in fuzz-out guitar textures. “Happy & Free” rounds things out with a relaxed but nicely noise-filled ode to two things that my unpaid student loan debt doesn’t allow me to be at this precise moment.

It this album wasn’t top-loaded with filler it would be a keeper. Unfortunately, you have to wait through five very substandard tracks before you are given any rewards for your efforts. My advice would be to get the last four tracks and treat it as an EP. I also recommend a nice mug of hot coco and a plate of oven-fresh chocolate cardamom cookies. Mmm!

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Metronomy - Love Letters

Metronomy
Love Letters
10 March 2014
Because Music

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Metronomy’s fourth LP, Love Letters, mixes various styles, from indie pop noodling to post-rock moogling, but retains a unified sound and feel throughout. Joseph Mount & Co. somehow manage to touch on both the Athens, Georgia, indie pop scene of a decade and a half ago and the dance punk scene of post-9/11 NYC. It’s fun for the whole family! Unless you come from a family of losers.

“I’m Aquarius” is a smooth indie soul track à la The xx, full of nervous energy and tension. “Love Letters” is baroque electro-indie pop, featuring a saxophone intro and a trumpet outro. The band goes deep into the odd with “Month of Sundays,” an indie pop excursion into a parallel universe where Mary’s Danish perhaps still exists. “Call Me” crosses over into Hot Chip terrain, with off-beat keyboard riffs flittering over and under urgent falsetto vocals. “The Most Immaculate Haircut” is a testament to hipster friend-ditching, with a detour through the marsh at night. Metronomy engage full-Moog mode with “Reservoir,” while the closing track, “Never Wanted,” is a quiet, guitar-based lament.

While a lot of Love Letters has a really handmade feel to it (not a bad thing at all), the compositions are interesting and accomplished. This album should win Metronomy some fans beyond the NME crowd, although if you pick what to listen to based exclusively on NME then you clearly already have enough problems of your own to worry about.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Carla Bozulich - Boy

Carla Bozulich
Boy
4 March 2014
Constellation

4.5 stars out of 5

 

“I’m gonna stop killing today, make better use of my hands.” Carla Bozulich means business on her latest LP, Boy. One of the great unsung songwriters of the last thirty years, Bozulich has been a founding member of such acts as the Geraldine Fibbers, Ethyl Meatplow, and most recently Evangelista. Boy is a powerful new entry in her already impressive discography, an album that reaches into some dark corners and pulls out some nasty monsters to analyze in Bozulich’s confessional lyrical mode.

Bozulich launches the first volley with “Ain’t No Grave,” a dizzy, inside-out jazz meets post-punk interpretation of the blues. The next shot is the Tom Waits multiplied by Einstürzende Neubauten cacophony of “One Hard Man,” and it drives its shrapnel deep into our helpless flesh. Basically, after barely more than six minutes at this point, Bozulich has already blown away most other 2014 releases so far with these two tracks. “Drowned to the Light” is a haunting take on an Appalachian murder ballad. “Danceland” melds dub with jazz brushes and atmospheric electronic bleepings in telling an urban folk myth. After the almost menacing “ballad” that is “What Is It Baby?” the album closes with “Number X,” a chilling, mostly instrumental exercise that feels like an audio poem—the kind of poetry that is both warmly comforting and wildly aggressive at the same time.

This record is excitingly dark. It’s dark in a positive, powerful way. Part unhinged Americana, part jazzy no-wave, the music of Boy is as complex and inspiring as the artist who made it. Miss it at your own risk.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Blood Red Shoes - Blood Red Shoes

Blood Red Shoes
Blood Red Shoes
3 March 2014
Jazz Life

4 stars out of 5

 

Okay, full disclosure up front: Box of Secrets, the 2008 debut LP by Blood Red Shoes, is one of my absolute favourite records of all time. Since then, well, I’ve been disappointed. Their second and third records embraced polish and smoothness to the detriment of power and intensity. But! Produced by the band themselves over a six month period in one of my favourite Berlin neighbourhoods (Kreuzberg), the indie punk duo’s self-titled fourth LP discards the glossy indie rock of their last two outings in favour of plenty of noise, fuzz, grit, grrrr, and also GRRRR. Alles ist gut.

“Everything All at Once” is rough, jagged, nasty, and in your fucking face. Yeah, I mean you. Your face. By the time the buzz saw riffs of “An Animal” start ripping into your flesh (yes, your flesh), it’s clear that Blood Red Shoes is a return to the primordial Blood Red Beast that pulled itself out of the primordial Brighton ooze way back when and brought a shit tonne of noise. “The Perfect Mess” is as vital as any White Stripes garage freak out. The pop side of Carter & Ansell makes an appearance with “Behind a Wall,” a snazzy tune which should be filling the airwaves of college radio stations across Canada this Spring (but you know it won’t because of reasons). “Speech Coma” is fierce and ferocious, like that sound your stomach makes when you’re trying to find a döner in Neukölln and, inexplicably, all four döner shops on your street corner are closed for the night. (This scenario would obviously never happen, as none of those places ever closes. Not. Ever.)

Even the more intricate arrangements on this record, such as “Cigarettes in the Dark,” are infused with dark energy. The band’s taking control of its own process seems to have given it a new, intense, and—yes—sexy life. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to listen to this record again. Loud.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Real Estate - Atlas

Real Estate
Atlas
4 March 2014
Domino/Mexican Summer

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Atlas is Real Estate’s third proper LP, and the New Jersey band seems to have found a very cozy musical place within it. While this might be seen as code for “they’ve got a sound and they’re sticking to it,” in reality it… okay, it means they’ve got a sound and they’re sticking to it.

“Had to Hear” begins things in a lazy Mazzy Star-without-the-junkie-mumbling manner. One thing that Real Estate are is tidy—there’s not a feedback squelch nor a pre-singing inhalation to be heard. Nor will you find any unnecessary drum fills or wonky time signatures in this band’s music, as all of that would break the spell and toss you out off the moment. Where does that moment situate itself? In a cabin by the lake, with you, David Roback, Georgia Hubley, and (though his agent would never let him admit to participating in such an event) perhaps a somewhat sober-ish and sedated Liam Gallagher. You’re on bass, obviously (but try to resist your Carlos Dengler aspirations, please). As your new band begins track three, “Talking Backwards,” it’s becoming clear that this collaboration has some spark to it, although Liam keeps asking between songs if there’s a decent Chinese take-away on this block. Reminding him that you’re in the middle of the fucking woods, you break into “April’s Song,” a sedate but still appealing instrumental full of tremolo. This gives Liam time for a much needed pee break, as he’s knocked back four lagers already since “Had to Hear.” Regardless, you’ve found a nice, mellow (but definitely not dirty flaky hippy) groove and you’re sticking to it. “The Bend” and “Crime” continue the Mazzy/Tengo session.

This is not at all a jam session, as (like I noted before) you guys are tidy. Everything is very precise here, with no room—or need—for improvisation. You get to show off your bass skills a little on “Horizon,” and then as things come to a close with “Navigator,” everyone is close to nodding off, circling the fireplace with beers in hand and contented smiles on faces. Until Liam gets a craving for curry and chips, anyway.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

The Men - Tomorrow's Hits

The Men
Tomorrow’s Hits
4 March 2014
Sacred Bones

3.5 stars out of 5

 

If Bruce Springsteen had gone punk circa Darkness on the Edge of Town, it probably would have sounded something like “Dark Waltz,” the opening track on The Men’s fifth LP, Tomorrow’s Hits. It’s got that ode-to-the-working-man kinda feel to it, even breaking out the harmonica at one point. There ain’t a hint of noise rock in all of these eight tracks, though there are several unhinged moments where the band definitely refuses to colour inside the lines.

“Another Night” is where the saxophone makes its debut, things speed up a few bpm, and The Men rock out for five and a half minutes on what is essentially two chords. It’s got a bit of ‘70s bar band nostalgia, part The Boss and part Nick Lowe. “Different Days” is full of similar energy—the lyric “I hate being young!” is featured prominently in the chorus while the band races ahead on less notes than you can fit in one hand. “Pearly Gates” blows the lid off the proceedings, exploding into Billy Zoom-meets-Captain Sensible mad riffage for over six minutes of—gasp!—punk rawk meets jam band (?!) craziness. “Settle Me Down” is a mellow romp through a field full of British Psychedelic daisies. I keep expecting to see Ray Davies in the credits for that song.

While The Men might “hate being young,” let us hope they keep down this path they’ve chosen and avoid the dreaded “artistic maturity” that ruins so many a promising career. Tomorrow’s Hits might not require close listening to ferret out all the fine details, but it’s still an accomplished work that manages to put forward a unique sound despite its myriad of influences.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

We Are Scientists - TV en Français

We Are Scientists
TV en Français
3 March 2014
self-released

2 stars out of 5

 

Oh, look at that, We Are Scientists have a new record. TV en Français is their fifth studio LP, and—points for consistency—it’s just as bland and unmemorable as all of their previous body of work, so forgive me if I get distracted by more interesting things—such as my half-empty glass of lukewarm water and the small unidentifiable stains on the wall next to the thermostat—during this review.

The opening track, “What You Do Best,” is a mélange of several tricks and treats from Antics, de-clawed and de-boned for your safe consumption. “Make It Easy” is that ‘90s “alternative pop/rock” song you get stuck in your head sometimes because some shitty radio station in the convenience store is playing it when you have to make an emergency run for condoms. You end up belting out the chorus during your climax, ruining the whole evening and really creeping out your girlfriend. Sorry, dudes, that song is on this record. It’s gonna make her leave you. Since the rest of the record appears to be just more alt-‘90s variations, I’m going to finish my breakfast (sausages, eggs, bagel, random pieces of fruit, lukewarm water) and ask about you for a change. How are you doing? How’s the girlfriend? Was she still in the mood when you got back from the convenience store?

In conclusion, I honestly have no idea what could have made those stains. While I was suffering through the last few songs on this record, I developed the hypothesis that it was aliens, who obviously would be interested in how hot or cold my apartment is, but I then discarded this idea after I went to refill my glass of water and was stunned by how much colder it felt on the lips.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Neneh Cherry - Blank Project

Neneh Cherry
Blank Project
25 February 2014
Smalltown Supersound

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Blank Project is Swedish singer Neneh Cherry’s first new solo album in eighteen years. Produced by Kieran Hebden (aka Four Tet), the album’s minimal percussion and keyboard instrumentation (courtesy of RocketNumberNine) allows Cherry’s vocals to take up much of the space. Much of the album is vibrant and exciting in its experimentation, though the energy dissipates over the last three tracks and as a result the final eighteen minutes feel weak and unnecessary.

“Across the Water” is a quiet but tense track featuring only acoustic percussion and Cherry’s vocals. “Blank Project” is a frantic running of the gauntlet through more hand-hit things and droning keyboards. The album continues to build in intensity and become incrementally more electronic with “Naked,” a stark, ice-cold 3 AM stroll through the fog-filled streets of an industrial wasteland. “Weightless” seems aimed for the dance floor, although its arrangement and instrumentation is anything but typical for the discothèque. It’s a playful romp through several house music clichés, including—wait for it—“more cowbell!” Yes, I went there, but only because Cherry and Hebden went there first. “Cynical” is one part glitch, one part odd time signature tomfoolery, and one part trip-hoppy jazz. The duet with fellow Swedish chanteuse Robyn, “Out of the Black,” is, unfortunately, the weakest track on the record by a wide margin. The vocals by both singers seem laboured and lacking any sort of spark, and the music seems magically drained of all the interesting aspects the record had up to this point. Shoulda been a b-side, is what I’m sayin’.

The remaining two tracks on the record are almost as flat and dull as “Out of the Black,” which is a shame because Blank Project had seemed so fresh and interesting up to that point. Regardless, BP represents a great re-ignition of a solo career since her last record, which was released, believe it or not, before this autumn’s first-year university students were even born.

reviewed by Richard Krueger