Chad VanGaalen - Shrink Dust

Chad VanGaalen
Shrink Dust
28 April 2014
Sub Pop

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Shrink Dust is the fifth LP by Calgarian Chad VanGaalen under his own name. It’s got all the charm of his previous releases, from invocations of Neil Young’s country leanings to subtle lo-fi experimentations. When listening to VanGaalen’s music, it always seems as if he’s your buddy: his music is the opposite of cool and distant, it’s warm and close. Shrink Dust feels as buddy-like as any of his previous releases.

“Where Are You?” is a desperate run through a cavernous haunted house. “Frozen Paradise” has a groove that makes it sound like a hand-made and delicate ‘70s funk tune. “Lila” is Neil Young recording his own version of For Emma, Forever Ago. After the country-tinged indie folk of “Monster” and “Evil,” VanGaalen cranks up the volume on the garage rocker “Leaning on Bells.” “Hangman’s Son” is the closest approximation here of VanGaalen’s most obvious influence, Neil Young (though he claims to view Bruce Springsteen’s Nebraska as the greatest album ever).

With Shrink Dust, VanGaalen continues to expand his musical palate. While firmly rooted in his one-man-band aesthetic, he pushes his songwriting into more full-sounding territory. Remaining eccentric without ever sounding pretentious, VanGaalen’s music here, as elsewhere, is as captivating as it is powerful.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Damon Albarn - Everyday Robots

Damon Albarn
Everyday Robots
25 April 2014
Parlophone

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Former Blur front man Damon Albarn has finally released his first proper solo album, and he’s titled it Everyday Robots, after its first single. Featuring contributions from Natasha Khan (Bat for Lashes) and Brian Eno, the LP is an autobiographical stroll through the more melancholy moments of Albarn’s life. Musically, Everyday Robots is more Gorillaz than Blur, centered on keyboards and looped samples rather than guitars and drums. If one were to sling insults, one could call this a “mature” record, though a mature record that has a firm grounding in a quiet experimentalism rather than crappy AOR hooks.

The title track is basically that opening scene of Shaun of the Dead, where everyone is a zombie on the bus to work, only here the metaphor is robots. “The Selfish Giant” is a quiet, sad ballad featuring Khan as a “ghostly echo”—one wishes there she had a greater presence in the song, but alas, no. “You and Me” has the feel of a Berlin-era David Bowie track, which is perhaps less surprising once you realize it features contributions from Brian Eno. The closer, “Heavy Seas of Love,” is the most Blur of the bunch, a sing-along à la “Tender” featuring a choir and Mr. Eno once more.

Albarn has produced a decent if not essential record in Everyday Robots, one that is enjoyable if not captivating. While lyrically cohesive and even poetic, the music seems declawed and sanitized. File this one somewhere in the middle of the Albarn canon, above the misses, but well below the hits.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

TEEN - The Way and Color

TEEN
The Way and Color
22 April 2014
Carpark

4.5 stars out of 5

 

The Way and Color is the second LP by Halifax-spawned, Brooklyn-based TEEN. It features some compelling guitar-less rock music that draws from the post-punk of The Raincoats, throwing in lethal doses of dub bass and that tricky quality known as “quirk.” A very solid and complex record, The Way and Color seems to arrive from outer space, in that—while it does draw from other artists in very minimal amounts—it seems to represent an entire cosmos of musical forms in and of itself.

“Rose 4 U” mutates into more forms in under five minutes than your typical cat-based internet meme. “Sticky” dives headlong into dub territory, while “Breathe Low & Deep” extends that dub into an epic sprawl of prog-rock insanity worthy of Robert Wyatt. “More Than I Ask For” contains echoes of St. Vincent in its vocal melodies while invoking Massive Attack in its instrumental arrangement. “Toi Toi Toi” is the most “pop” song on the album, though full of off-tempo low vibrations and general weirdness.

TEEN have smashed through a wall and entered into another musical dimension with The Way and Color. While The Raincoats are the easiest comparison, and one could make a very tentative and not-very-convincing argument for The Slits, TEEN really can’t count many others in their clique. A unique album by a unique band, The Way and Color is one of my favourites of the year so far.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Fear of Men - Loom

Fear of Men
Loom
22 April 2014
Kanine

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Loom is the immediately compelling debut LP by British indie pop/dream pop outfit Fear of Men. Singer Jessica Weiss’s lyrics tend toward the dark side of things, though her voice and delivery make the darkness seem friendly and inviting. While sticking mainly to melodic dream pop with a slightly dark edge (see “Descent” for a prime example), it has its almost experimental moments as well (“Inside”), though these digressions are fully within the pop boundaries as drawn by the rest of the album.

“Waterfall” and “Green Sea” pay homage to dream pop in the classic vein—not as edgy as, say, Lush (the comparisons to Curve completely baffle me), but full of shimmering guitars and minor key vocal melodies. “Tephra” is the kind of thing that could end up on an offensively inoffensive café radio playlist twenty years into the future, but don’t let that prevent you from enjoying its supremely catchy excellence today. “Luna” is the most direct arrow pointing at the shoegaze/dream pop legacy of London, circa 1991. Its dark, pulsating core throws off colourful melodic flares that are both enticingly beautiful and dangerous to touch.

Loom is a strong debut, lacking anything that could qualify as filler. If Weiss and the gang continue to move into darker territory while keeping their pop sensibilities, Fear of Men will be an exciting band to watch in the future.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Kelis - Food

Kelis
Food
18 April 2014
Ninja Tune

4 stars out of 5

 

Kelis has always found more success in the UK and Europe than she has in her native USA. Most likely this is due to the fact that she has been perceived by American audiences as, well, a little weird. Clearly she feels comfortable with this description as she’s enlisted TV on the Radio’s Dave Sitek to produce her sixth LP, Food. As far as Sitek goes, the music on Food isn’t all that weird—Kelis brings all the weird herself with her recurring theme, food.

Kelis’s brand of R&B would be more at home in 1974 than 2014, though nothing about her music feels contrived as “retro.” Tracks like “Hooch” and “Cobbler” are truly inventive and forward-looking, based solidly in a tradition that encourages innovation. The blues guitar and Southern flavour of “Friday Fish Fry” melds nicely with its urban R&B horn section, while “Rumble” and “Dreamer” reach right out of the mid-‘60s in order to give you a good slap.

Food represents the strongest album of Kelis’s career. Her lyrical theme of om nom nom doesn’t overtake the record or turn it into a concept piece; rather, it’s a center to which all digressions in life must return on a regular basis. You might find yourself returning to listen to Food on a regular basis as well, as it’s got all the ingredients of a classic.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Eels - The Cautionary Tales of Mark Oliver Everett

Eels
The Cautionary Tales of Mark Oliver Everett
21 April 2014
Vagrant
 
3 stars out of 5

 

The Cautionary Tales of Mark Oliver Everett is the eleventh studio LP by Eels, named after their primary singer and songwriter, E. It’s a largely quiet, guitar-based album, with a smattering of piano tracks and big band arrangements. It’s a record that straddles that fine line between introspective meditation and bombastic arena rock ambition. Some tracks, such as “Agatha Chang,” seem built for an intimate coffee house setting, while others, like “Lockdown Hurricane,” seem to reach for a universal audience—like a Randy Newman tune about America-with-a-capital-A, only without the humour and sarcasm.

“A Swallow in the Sun” is typical of the album: apparently grounded in a deeply personal experience (but reaching for a contrived universality) the song is a good button-pusher, though cheapens itself by doing so with such obvious parlour tricks. “Series of Misunderstandings” is a revenge tale set against the repressed ticking clock of someone about to explode with rage. “Gentlemen’s Choice” is that Randy Newman song that Everett always wanted to write but never quite got around to tackling: an orphaned show tune from a ‘50s Broadway musical, updated for the ‘70s. “Dead Reckoning” is another show tune without a show, full of mood and spook, coming right before the climax of the musical. “Mistakes of My Youth” and “Where I’m Going” are two more (not quite convincing) tales of the universal everyman disguised as quiet, personal confessions.

The Cautionary Tales of MOE may in fact be the honest, earnest personal album that it sells itself as, but its arrangements and delivery point in a different direction. I wouldn’t go so far as to suggest that Eels are cynically trying to fabricate emotions or reach those emotions through a paint-by-numbers formula, but most of the time the record has that feel to it. Approach with caution.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

HTRK - Psychic 9-5 Club

HTRK
Psychic 9-5 Club
1 April 2014
Ghostly International

4 stars out of 5

 

Australia’s HTRK (absolutely not pronounced “hat rack”) have endured tragedy, long delays in album releases, and moving to the other side of the world (current residence: London) to make it to their third LP, Psychic 9-5 Club. Founding member Sean Stewart committed suicide in 2010, but remaining members Jonnine Standish and Nigel Yang have persevered, releasing two albums since Stewart’s death. Having abandoned the guitar-and-bass-dominated arrangements of their early years, the surviving duo now plays minimalist and highly emotive electronica.

“Blue Sunshine” is a good example of HTRK’s current sound: take late ‘90s Autechre and add a bit of Tracey Thorn-ish vocals repeating two or three phrases over and over like a mantra. “Wet Dream” is a cascade of delayed drums and vocals, while “Love Is Distraction” and “Chinatown Style” are slowly-unwinding minimalist meditations on the dark echoes of sounds. “The Body You Deserve” employs unexpected spoken word sections to very unsettling effect while the music swirls and eddies over dangerous unseen rocks and drop-offs.

Standish and Yang understand how to create some very fluid and dynamic music out of some very simple parts. Standish’s voice adds both a human warmth and an unreal post-societal chill to tracks which the likes of Autechre or Mika Vainio would be proud to claim as their own. One of the more inspiring records of the year so far.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Thee Oh Sees - Drop

Thee Oh Sees
Drop
15April 2014
Castle Face

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Thee Oh Sees hail from San Francisco and play (nowadays) a dense, noise-filled brand of garage rock. Drop is their eighth studio LP under their current spelling; they released two LPs previously as The OhSees, and another three as OCS before that. The new record doesn’t quite double as a belt sander to the face the way 2012’s Putrifiers II did, but it’s got all of Thee Oh Sees’ trademark psychedelic garage rock insanity, even if somewhat easier on the eardrums in comparison to that earlier record.

“Penetrating Eye” begins the record as if it were the theme to an astronomy show on PBS in the 1970s before bringing in the loud guitars, Ozzy-y vocals, and devil horns. “Encrypted Bounce” sounds like the psychedelic SF sound of the late ‘60s as hijacked by anarchist punks. “Savage Victory” manages to reference the incredibly disparate music of The Cramps and Neu! in the same riff. It’s a bit of atmospheric kraut rock/psychobilly that ends like a dying first generation Atari. The madcap is laughing throughout “Camera (Queer Sound),” though there isn’t a trace of him shining later on like a crazy diamond. “Kings Nose” is basically Canterbury circa 1972, while “Transparent World” also takes its cue from kraut rock, but merged with psychedelic jam rock this time. “The Lens” is Pink Floyd meets Bowie’s folkier moments.

This is perhaps Thee Oh Sees’ most accessible record to date, though not their most arresting or essential. There aren’t many musical references on Drop that are less than 40 years old, though what is here is so thoroughly violated and corrupted that it’s almost become a genre into itself. A good introduction to the band for the uninitiated.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Protomartyr - Under Color of Official Right

Protomartyr
Under Color of Official Right
8 April 2014
Hardly Art

4 stars out of 5

 

Detroit’s garage-y post-punk ensemble Protomartyr have just released their second LP with the slippery title Under Color of Official Right. All the usual (early) Echo & the Bunnymen  and (early) Psychedelic Furs comparisons apply (with occasional touches of (middle) Replacements—see “Ain’t So Simple”), though in terms of recent artists Protomartyr have more kinship with The Prids than they do with Interpol. Despite the homage to early ‘80s UK post-punk, there isn’t much in the way of plagiarism here. If you were lazy you could compare Joe Casey’s vocal delivery to that of Mark E. Smith, but I hear more Jonathan Richman than Smith. Comparisons in general are lazy, so let’s move on.

Protomartyr play post-punk, traditionally a slick, polished, highly-stylized genre of music, as if it were garage punk, traditionally a rough, sloppy, highly-stylized genre of music. Think Joy Division as interpreted by the MC5. (Damn, that was a comparison, wasn’t it?) Standout track “Bad Advice” is a creeped-out after-midnight rush through a dark alley in the bad part of town. Other tracks like “Scum, Rise!” and “I Stare at Floors” display different facets of Protomartyr’s vision, showing it to be innovative and ambitious despite the very strict musical boundaries they’ve allowed themselves to operate within.

Under Color of Official Right is a finely-detailed piece of art, but one that doesn’t yield its treasures right away. It takes a few listens to get a good sense of the mechanics of what’s going on under the genre exercises. It could be seen as a sister album to The Prids’ Until the World Is Beautiful, in that both are very good records in the UK post-punk tradition coming from unusual places (Detroit? St. Joseph, fucking Missouri?!), and both make it difficult to guess what year they were made in (2001? 1981?). If you’ve never heard of either band, check them both out. Very worthwhile.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Woods - With Light and with Love

Woods
With Light and with Love
14 April 2014
Woodsist

2.5 stars out of 5

 

I’ve always exercised caution when Pitchfork raves on and on about a band from NYC. A lot of the time the praise is disproportionate to the music (The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Vivian Girls), though, admittedly, they get it right once in a while too (okay, fine, basically everyone else). For me, Woods have always been in the former category. Mind you, I have a trigger response to any hipster who picks up a banjo, so often I don’t give these bands the time they might deserve. While Woods aren’t banjo oriented, they do indeed harken back to a folk tradition, albeit one that involved plenty of LSD and peaked in San Francisco in the late 1960s.

With Light and with Love doesn’t do anything to move them from that former category into the latter. Its George Harrison licks sit very inoffensively overtop its copy of a copy of what psychedelic folk is supposed to sound like. There’s so much following of formula here that one suspects Woods have a computer program that spits out guitar tabs and vocal melodies based on some sort of lowest common denominator algorithm for musicians without imagination. Even the nine-minute title track is so contrived and unoriginal that you wish you could give a good slap to both the members of the band and the Pitchfork writers who keep promoting this stuff as somehow relevant to the world of music.

In a way, I appreciate having to listen to records like this multiple times, because then I get to use more cuss words and say nasty shit. In addition, it’s provided me with an opportunity to diss Pitchfork, which is always fun. So, to the members of Woods, I must say thank you, thank you for granting me this gift. Now please be so kind as to break up and stop making music.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

The Afghan Whigs - Do to the Beast

The Afghan Whigs
Do to the Beast
14 April 2014
Sub Pop

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Fifteen and a half years after their last album, 1965, The Afghan Whigs have reformed and released a new album, their seventh, Do to the Beast. They’ve returned to the Sub Pop fold, although that label has a roster and sound quite different from when The Afghan Whigs left it in 1992.  Although originally associated with the grunge scene—they weren’t exactly grunge (but neither were Pearl Jam or Alice in Chains, despite still receiving the label), and they were from Ohio, not Washington—Greg Dulli & Co. were always more about Motown than they were about flannel, though they had enough angst to fill Puget Sound several times over. Of course, their version of Motown was filled with loud guitars and hung out in the alley behind the strip joint, but it’s the spirit of the thing that counts.

At first listen, Do to the Beast sounds like, well, an Afghan Whigs record. Old fans shouldn’t have any complaints. They haven’t “sold out,” “compromised,” or “changed their underwear,” and here sound more like they did on Congregation than they did on their subsequent albums. “Matamoros” and “It Kills” are prime examples of their Motown-as-interpreted-by-white-punks-with-distortion-pedals aesthetic, the latter even bringing in a string section. “Lost in the Woods” earns a spot on the band’s Top 10 All-Time Songs through its spooky piano and soaring chorus. “Royal Cream” is classic Whigs in the Up in It vein, while “I Am Fire” takes its cue from Gentlemen. The closing “These Sticks” is another contender for the Best Of collection, a monster of a track that demonstrates that no edge whatsoever has been lost in the 22 years since the Whigs were last signed to Sub Pop.

Do to the Beast is a solid new entry in the Whigs’ catalogue. While it doesn’t quite attain the heights of their classic releases, Congregation and Gentlemen, it’s definitely closer to the top of the hill than the bottom. The alley behind the strip joint is still Dulli’s favourite haunt, and while these guys are now a couple of decades older, there’s nothing on Do to the Beast that suggests they’re slowing down or starting to get tired.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

OFF! - Wasted Years

OFF!
Wasted Years
8 April 2014
Vice

3.5 stars out of 5

 

The template for hardcore punk—LA-style—was set in stone in the late 1970s by bands like Black Flag, Circle Jerks, Fear, and the Germs. OFF!’s Keith Morris sang for two of those bands, so it’s impossible to accuse him of copying or plagiarizing a scene which began over 35 years ago since he was there (as James Murphy might say) and was integral to its creation in the first place. Now it’s 2014, but the sixteen songs that compose Wasted Years—and zip by in less than twenty-four minutes—could just as easily have written and recorded in 1979 (or 1984, or 1989, etc), except that here we have a nice and crisp drum sound rather than those trademark underwater-sounding SST percussives. Heck, even the cover art could be from 1979 (or 1984, or 1989, etc).

With a genre like hardcore punk (like other rigid, conservative genres), there’s always tension between remaining true to tradition (hence risking staleness) and exploding the pre-conceptions of what the genre should be and exploring what could be (see Hüsker Dü’s Zen Arcade or Minutemen’s Double Nickels on the Dime for excruciatingly obvious examples of such exploding and exploring). The irony is, of course, that if you attempt to remake Damaged in 2014 it makes you a traditionalist (hence potentially stale), but if you try to build your own Zen Arcade you’ve crossed the border into what is now clearly demarcated as post-hardcore’s domain, and are no longer hardcore full-stop (unless you’re Fucked Up, and then you could put out a triple-LP based on the life of Anne Frank, featuring strings and a harpsichord, and still be called hardcore).

Wasted Years grows from the traditionalist soil, but it’s anything but stale—it’s got enough energy in its less than twenty-four minutes than most of the rest of the records that will be released in 2014 combined. Sure, it sounds just like any other hardcore record, but here’s where you must take a moment to stop and correct yourself: it’s all the other hardcore bands that are trying to sound exactly like Morris, not the other way around. When every single other band in the genre is trying to be exactly like you, you must be doing something right, and OFF! do it right in every single one of these sixteen songs.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

School of Language - Old Fears

School of Language
Old Fears
7 April 2014
Memphis Industries

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Old Fears is the second solo LP by Field Music member David Brewis under the name School of Language. Drawing inspiration from the early ‘80s New Romantic movement as well as most of Talking Heads’ œuvre, Brewis creates an album that manages to sound fresh and new despite being firmly grounded in a tradition that was at its peak 35 years ago.

“Distance Between” introduces Brewis’s Hot Chip-meets-Talking Heads sound before “A Smile Cracks” redirects us along a more New Romantic type of journey. “Between the Suburbs” is the early summit of this particular ascent: it’s got a spookier type of Speaking in Tongues vibe, with Brewis flexing his David Byrne-ish vocal muscles for full effect. “Small Words” is the strongest song on the record, and its post-punk-y guitar and bass twitches and seizures would easily be at home on Fear of Music. Old Fears closes with the strong “You Kept Yourself,” a slow piano-based homage to late-period Talk Talk that indicates Brewis has the talent to produce some truly experimental records within the constraints of pop music.

Between Field Music, School of Language, and The Week That Was, the Brewis brothers have made some solid records in the last few years, among which Old Fears is a worthy addition. Like their fellow townsfolk in Maxïmo Park and The Futureheads, they seem content to return again and again to the first half of the 1980s, and most of these returns are welcome, even if, like this melancholy record, not necessarily happy.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Squarepusher x Z-Machines - Music for Robots EP

Squarepusher x Z-Machines
Music for Robots EP
7 April 2014
Warp

4.5 stars out of 5

 

Back in September, this happened. Tom Jenkinson (aka Squarepusher) wrote some music, and three robots (the Japanese ensemble Z-Machines) performed it. It was robot music. It is important to make a distinction here: this is not music written or conceived of by robots; it is very human, very emotional music, that just happens to be played by robots. Live. All of the sounds you hear are organic sounds made by organic instruments, either strummed, picked, or hit by robots using robot hands and fingers. Mind you, the guitarist has 78 fingers and the drummer has 22 arms, but that’s just nitpicking, isn’t it? Now, in April, there’s a full five-song EP of this robot jazz, and holy fuck is it good.

The above-linked “Sad Robot Goes Funny” is, as you can see for yourself, nutso. It is instantly recognizable as a Squarepusher jazz track, though here Jenkinson is no longer limited by the restraints presented by appendages of a merely human construction. These robot dudes can shred at light speed. But in addition to being an impressive display of mad skillz, this song is emotionally moving and engaging in a very human way. “Dissolver” is a slow-building piece that straddles multiple borders: rock/jazz, pop/neo-classical. Jenkinson dives headlong into exploring the musical possibilities offered by the sheer speed with which these robots can play. By the five-minute point the guitarist is soloing so fast it sounds like Crystal Castles sped up by 300 times.

Although the robots aren’t capable (yet) of varying their amplitude or improvising, they do provide the composer with exciting new means of expression. All gimmicks aside, this is some of the best songwriting of Jenkinson’s more than two decades of pushing the boundaries of both electronica and jazz. I can’t wait to hear more.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

EMA - The Future's Void

EMA
The Future’s Void
7 April 2014
Matador

4 stars out of 5

 

Erika M. Anderson’s third LP, The Future’s Void, is both a cold and dark industrial chiller and a warm and fuzzy embrace, sometimes even within the same song. Ranging from the minimalist ambiance of “100 Years” to the harsh darkness of “Smoulder,” Anderson’s stylistic breadth is as impressive as her incredible focus and lyrical sharpness. The lyrics deal primarily with the present state of world political affairs, and while this might seem like an eye-roller of a topic for an album, Anderson’s skills make it work.

“Satellites” is a dark pop-industrial juggernaut of an opener. I had to check my calendar for a moment to make sure the present year was 2014 and not 1994. But! Fear not, gentle reader, for rather than being a weak rip-off of a long-stale genre, EMA’s song breathes and bleeds with new vitality. “3Jane” is a gentle and sad skewering of what was once a glorious country called “America.” The thoroughly gothy gothness of “Cthulu” will probably make it a staple at equally gothy clubs for many gothy years to come. “Neuromancer” is a tribal drumfest à la Dead Can Dance gone evil—followed by the sedate acoustic ballad “When She Comes,” it seems fairly certain that Anderson is a mad scientist of a songwriter, equally comfortable in both raging demon and comforting teddy bear modes.

While most of the album is based on keys and programming, acoustic guitar tracks like “So Blonde” and “When She Comes” prove that Anderson has the ability to write “traditional rock songs” in addition to the results she comes up with when given a studio full of toys. Interestingly enough, Anderson’s former band Amps for Christ is set to release a new LP next week, and I’m willing to bet the two have diverged so much in the last decade that any comparisons will be close to impossible.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Avey Tare’s Slasher Flicks - Enter the Slasher House

Avey Tare’s Slasher Flicks
Enter the Slasher House
7 April 2014
Domino

4 stars out of 5

 

Animal Collective’s Avey Tare, former Dirty Projectors member Angel Deradoorian, and former Ponytail drummer Jeremy Hyman have joined forces to create music as Avey Tare’s Slasher Flicks. In case you’re wondering which of Animal Collective, Dirty Projectors, or Ponytail—all incredibly enigmatic ensembles—shows through the most on Enter the Slasher House, it’s Animal Collective, which shouldn’t be much of a surprise considering it says “Avey Tare” in the freakin’ name of the band. If you can picture more of a rock sound (owing to the new bass and live drums rhythm section behind AT) to some classic AC material, then you’ve got the general idea as to what’s going on here.

The songs are dense, frantic, complex, and uncompromising, as also should be expected. Tracks like “A Sender” and “The Outlaw” are dynamic compositions that transform themselves every few bars into entities more and more remote from their first few moments. The catchy “Little Fang” will probably find its way onto every hipster’s iPod by the beginning of the summer. Deradoorian’s voice is finally audible on the great “Strange Colores,” an energetic—if less experimental—hedonistic romp. The dub reggae touches and kraut rock-ish jam section of “Your Card” close the album nicely, showing for the first time that this music is indeed a collaboration rather than simply an Avey Tare solo outing.

Much more satisfying than 2012’s Centipede Hz, the looser and seemingly less deliberate Enter the Slasher House is an intricately nuanced yet immediately enjoyable record. It rewards during both close listens on quality headphones and as background noise to loud parties full of young people wearing beards and ironic trucker caps. It will be interesting to see how much more Deradoorian and Hyman come to the fore in future records by this trio.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

SOHN - Tremors

SOHN
Tremors
7 April 2014
4AD

4 stars out of 5

 

SOHN is the pseudonym of English singer and electronic musician Christopher Taylor. Tremors is his debut LP, released on the legendary label 4AD (cue heavenly church choir “ahhs” and glowing gold halo over the label’s name). Taylor has a soulful voice (he’s probably compared to James Blake every few minutes) and some interesting ideas concerning production, but most important is his good pop song writing sense that holds everything on Tremors together.

“The Wheel” is almost four minutes of near perfection—though first released as a single in 2012, it still sounds just as fresh now as it did then. “Artifice” is a good example of the solid pop song structure which forms the basis of Taylor’s compositions, while the music is created out of many interesting little pieces of electronic textures. “Lights” is a more straight forward electro-New Waver, with hints of Bronski Beat in the vocal melody and 2-step in the beat. “Veto” and “Lessons” are a couple of great bitter takes on love gone bad.

While James Blake is an obvious comparison, it might be Kanye West whose spirit is most present in Taylor’s production and songwriting. Tracks like “Tempest” and “Tremors” could just as easily back West’s egoist raps as they do Taylor’s electro-soul exercises in angst. Granted, tracks like “Bloodflows” and “Ransom Notes” are decidedly un-Kanye-like, so you can probably discount my suggestion above as the ramblings of someone who needs more sleep in his routine and less ramen in his diet. Regardless, Tremors is an exciting debut and should turn a few heads in 2014.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Kaiser Chiefs - Education, Education, Education & War

Kaiser Chiefs
Education, Education, Education & War
31 March 2014
Fiction

3 stars out of 5

 

As derivative records go, Education, Education, Education & War at least keeps its “influences” (read: “people it rips off”) on the cool(-ish) side. Kaiser Chiefs were one of the less interesting or original higher-profile bands to come out of the UK indie rock explosion of the mid-oughts, and while they’ve put together a group of catchy tunes here, they’re still not terribly interesting or original. Therefore, in order to give credit where credit is due, I will give a brief sketch of the “influences” rather than worry about the present record as an entity in and of itself (which it isn’t, really).

“Factory Gates” could be from an early-‘90s Inspiral Carpets record, Moog-laden as it is, while “Coming Home” could be a mid-‘90s b-side by The Cure. “Misery Company” is straight outta Country Life-era Roxy Music. “Ruffians on Parade” is a ‘70s rocker by Heart (okay, maybe not so cool), while “One More Last Song” is early-‘80s Platinum Blonde (therefore, by extension, slightly earlier-‘80s Duran Duran). “My Life” and “Bows & Arrows” are two more lost Inspiral Carpets tracks, while “Roses” is basically every Britpop band that ever was.

Oddly enough, through all of this runs the narrative of a concept album about the nature of the modern military industrial state. From the opening “Factory Gates” to the closing “Roses,” we follow a British everyman from the depressed post-industrial ruinscapes that dot the English map to the economic hope offered them by the war machinery that is far more likely to turn them into decapitated bodies than into decorated heroes. It’s an ambitious if somewhat derivative idea (see The Final Cut or The Monitor) that the band doesn’t quite have the skills to pull off. It’s certainly a catchy attempt, though.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Timber Timbre - Hot Dreams

Timber Timbre
Hot Dreams
31 March 2014
Arts & Crafts

3.5 stars out of 5

 

“You turned me on, then you turned on me,” and other spooky tales, as told by Taylor Kirk and company on their fifth LP, Hot Dreams. At times like Leonard Cohen with singing lessons (“Beat the Drum Slowly”), at others like a less dark Bill Callahan (“Hot Dreams”), Ontario’s Timber Timbre (there’s gotta be a Tim Hortons joke in there somewhere) play a highly theatrical brand of artsy country folk, almost bordering on kitsch at times (“Bring Me Simple Men” and “Run from Me”).

“This Low Commotion” is one of the album’s highlights, for both its theatricality and its pure pun power. It’s a slow retro-country grind that could perhaps find itself at home on a David Lynch film’s soundtrack—such is its cinematic and Badalamenti-esque nature. If The Cure ever wrote a song in Timber Timbre’s chosen genre, it might sound something like “The Three Sisters,” a gorgeous instrumental mood piece that would be completely at home on a re-recorded Faith or Seventeen Seconds. It’s the best track on Hot Dreams—perhaps because it contains the fewest cubic centimetres of kitsch. Don’t be surprised if it shows up on a movie soundtrack or three within the next couple of years.

It’s difficult to take Timber Timbre seriously at times (this is the same band that named an album Creep On Creepin’ On, after all), though the simple act of having a sense of humour generally shouldn’t count against anyone. There are some nice things happening on Hot Dreams, and while a lot of said things might seem like carefully-constructed jokes, they are very pretty and listenable jokes nonetheless.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Mac DeMarco - Salad Days

Mac DeMarco
Salad Days
1 April 2014
Captured Tracks

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Salad Days is Brooklyn-residing Canadian Mac DeMarco’s second LP under his own name, coming after several self-released offerings under the moniker Makeout Videotape. It’s the kind of slacker tropicalia tomfoolery that evangelical preachers warn you about during their fire-and-brimstone laden sermons. It’s pure devil music, and the devil appears to be a very chill dude, sipping an umbrella drink while he watches the sunset from his beachside hot tub. If you doubt me, just remember that DeMarco is the kind of guy who is likely to remove several articles of clothing while performing such deceptively mellow tunes on stage. Enough said.

DeMarco’s sonic arsenal includes a very smooth voice—something like a cross between Kurt Vile and Bill Callahan—and an electric guitar that is apparently equipped with fifteen or so whammy bars. Accompanied by a rhythm section that enjoys to stretch out and relax, DeMarco’s songs go down easily, invoking a kind of dub-hypnosis along the way. Stand-out tracks include “Let Her Go,” “Passing Out Pieces,” and “Treat Her Better.”

Enjoyable if not terribly challenging, Salad Days is a good record to soak up some poolside rays by. I might even join you there, provided that you supply the umbrella drinks. What, you think I make money writing these reviews? Oh, how terribly naïve you are, gentle reader, but I love you for it.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Cloud Nothings - Here and Nowhere Else

Cloud Nothings
Here and Nowhere Else
1 April 2014
Carpark

4 stars out of 5

 

After having listened to “Psychic Trauma,” the third track on Here and Nowhere Else, the third studio LP by Cloud Nothings, multiple times, I am firmly convinced that their drummer, Jayson Gerycz, is fucking insane. He has no business drumming that ferociously. Nor does any other non-cyborg human being. As a whole, the record is a few notches more intense than their previous outing, the much-acclaimed Attack on Memory. The somewhat sloppy and unhinged post-hardcore of that record is still sloppy and unhinged on Here and Nowhere Else, but somehow they seem to be tighter in their sloppiness now, managing to refine it and perfect it, if that makes any sense at all.

Tracks like “Quieter Today” and “No Thoughts” are great little emo (in the original sense of the word) ditties that will have the mosh pits frothing over with bloody noses and ecstatic shouts of approval. “Just See Fear” and “I’m Not Part of Me” see the band pushing farther into pop vocal melody territory than ever before, with fantastic results. And then there’s the incredible beast of a song that is “Pattern Walks.” If you, gentle reader, will permit me to reconstruct this song for you out of its Goo equivalents, it’s got a “Mildred Pierce” verse, a free-wheeling “Tunic (Song for Karen)” breakdown, and a “Titanium Exposé” return to the beat. And then, after all of that, it finds an almost gospel-esque ecstasy in the repeated vocal refrain which wraps things up.

Here and Nowhere Else hides many subtle hints of beauty that it reveals more and more with each subsequent listen. If it doesn’t take hold of you right away, have patience, give it some time. You will hear the good word, and you will be converted.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Perfect Pussy - Say Yes to Love

Perfect Pussy

Say Yes to Love
18 March 2014
Captured Tracks

4 stars out of 5

 

Syracuse punksters Perfect Pussy’s first LP, Say Yes to Love, stays true to the punk tradition in that you can listen to it three times in a hour. (Well, almost three times, anyway.) Packed into the album’s eight songs is enough energy to explain why 7 WTC fell when it was nowhere near Ground Zero. This record basically explodes out of the speakers. Singer Meredith Graves frantically delivers the goods without seeming to take a breath during the entire thing. Loaded with liberal doses of feedback, static, and hum, Say Yes to Love sounds about as analogue as it gets.

Though at its essence this is a hardcore punk record, touching on post-hardcore here and there, and infused with a healthy dose of noise rock, it has the feel of being an art record, an abstract impression of punk. To be found between the two-minute bursts of punk energy are ambient swirls and doodles, as well as minimalist exercises in static, more “One Minute of Silence” than Minutemen. “Interference Fits” progresses like one of Kim Gordon’s song-poems, while “VII” is an abstract and beatless industrial piece built upon distorted keyboard noises and Graves’s spoken word meanderings.

It’s refreshing to encounter such experimental enthusiasm in a hardcore band. As a statement of intent, it’s very impressive. It will be interesting to see what Perfect Pussy can show us with a longer set.

reviewed by Richard Krueger