Mastodon - Once More 'Round the Sun

Mastodon
Once More ‘Round the Sun
24 June 2014
Reprise

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Well, it ain’t no Leviathan. This sentence is the only subject of real concern for casual fans of Mastodon, so if you’re trying to decide if the LP would look good next to Deafheaven or Windhand in the token metal section of your vinyl collection, keep that in mind. On the other hand, if you’re offended that I dared to even mention artists so different as Deafheaven and Mastodon in the same sentence, you’re going to be a little happier with Once More ‘Round the Sun, and you’re going to file it right next to that tattered copy of Machine Head that you picked up at a garage sale for $1 in the first semester of your post-secondary career (it skips badly during “Highway Star,” making it seem like they just want to repeat the same two seconds of metal history over and over again—which, appropriately enough, is what Mastodon do during much of Once More ‘Round the Sun).

Don’t get me wrong: if it’s riffs you want, then look no further. There are some great ones here—pretty much every track is built upon some grandiose fretwork or other. And, seriously, if one criticizes Mastodon for following tried-and-true metal formulas and not colouring outside the box, one might as well take on metal as a whole for being conservative. Part of what makes Mastodon so dear to the hearts of metalheads everywhere is how closely they adhere to tradition—ain’t no clever post-metal deconstruction happening here, just faithful (translation: ultra-conservative) worshipping of the metal gods. In other words, Once More ‘Round the Sun, like its title would suggest, is really just more of the same, so if that pleases you from a philosophical point of view, then this record is for you.

In many ways Mastodon is a parody of a cliché. Take our previous reference to Deep Purple: if you’re completely honest with yourself, you’ll be forced to acknowledge that “Highway Star” is quite possibly the most ridiculously clichéd six minutes ever devoted to vinyl. You can’t help but laugh at its idiotic nature, yet you cannot deny that it is also fucking awesome. The word “awesome” is basically interchangeable with “Highway Star.” (“Dude, how was the Mastodon show last night?” “Oh dude, it was fucking highway star, man!” “Dude!” “Yeah, man!”) So, basically, why bother to experiment and evolve as an artist when you’re already awesome?

reviewed by Richard Krueger

A Sunny Day in Glasgow - Sea When Absent

A Sunny Day in Glasgow
Sea When Absent
23 June 2014
Lefse

4.5 stars out of 5

 

Supremely noisy dream-popsters A Sunny Day in Glasgow return for their fourth LP, Sea When Absent. The album sees them moving still further into Balearic pop, gradually drifting away from their fifth-period His Name Is Alive sound-alike beginnings. While there are some less noisy tracks here (the single “Crushin’,” for example), part of the ASDiG aesthetic is that there is no empty space: every last nook and cranny is filled with sonic hi-jinx, usually the weirder the better. However, regardless of how many auditory digressions one encounters during the course of one of their songs, ASDiG never build arrangements that favour said digressions at the expense of the vocal melody, which is always the core component of all of their tracks.

“In Love with Useless (The Timeless Geometry in the Tradition of Passing)” combines an almost industrial racket with sugar-sweet dream-pop melodies, whereas “MTLOV (Minor Keys)” is pure late-‘80s 4AD bliss. “The Body, It Bends (ペルセポネが帰ってきた!)” aims straight for the ideals created by Brad Laner’s Medicine in the mid-‘90s—angelic vocals laid overtop blissfully overdriven guitars—and hits a bull’s eye. Hidden under the layers of craziness that cover “Golden Waves” is the massive vocal hook of a classic pop/R&B track that would be guaranteed regular rotation on Top 40 radio if it wasn’t for the almost impenetrable nature of its aural textures (them teens be all “Whaaaaaa?”).

Sea When Absent is a triumph. While Animal Collective have been grabbing all the attention and collecting all the accolades (and deservedly so) for their freakishly complex pop records, A Sunny Day in Glasgow have been quietly going about creating their own version of the genre, and with this record they have perfected it. Not to be missed.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Circulatory System - Mosaics Within Mosaics

Circulatory System
Mosaics Within Mosaics
24 June 2014
Cloud Recordings

3.5 stars out of 5

 

The endearingly awkward Will Cullen Hart has revived Circulatory System (again) for a third album, the double LP Mosaics Within Mosaics. It has the same handmade charm of his previous releases, merging the lo-fi brevity of Guided by Voices with the panoramic ambition of The Beatles circa the second side of Abbey Road. Fans of the Elephant 6 collective will be satisfied, as Mos(Mosaics)aics doesn’t stray too far from the aesthetic of the legendary Athens, Georgia, based label, though the uninitiated will likely be baffled, befuddled, beguiled, and possibly bedbug-bitten. (Though let’s face it, if you’re the kind of person to buy this on vinyl, you’ve long ago forsaken personal luxuries like a working vehicle, more than two pairs of pants, and food beyond ramen for the sake of your record collection. You have bedbugs. Just admit it.)

The trouble with reviewing a record as obviously painstakingly assembled with the utmost love and tender attention as this one is that one must resist the urge to summarily give it 5 stars just for effort. Mosaics ain’t a perfect record, not by a long shot. It’s neither era-defining nor game-changing. It’s really just more of the same from WCH, and while that is generally a pretty awesome thing, if you’re looking for another Dusk at Cubist Castle you’re going to be disappointed. However, if you come to M(M)os(os)aic(aics)s without expectations, it’s a very enjoyable couple of slabs of psychedelic pop run through the post-everything filter of the ‘90s indie scene. Songs are short and frequently abstract. There’s more nerdy intelligence here than at a conference on dead Continental philosophers. Plus: eight songs with the same title!

If Mosaics within Mosaics had come out in 1996, it would have been a very important record. Eighteen years later, while it’s still very listenable, its relevancy is diminished by the years. If the Elephant 6 scene somehow becomes revived by a new wave of admirers and emulators, then Mosaics will be seen as an important moment in that timeline. If not, it’s just a footnote to another era. Either way, if you need your sunshine-y fix of disjointed psychedelia, then this is the record you want to be listening to right now. That is, until The Olivia Tremor Control release The Same Place later this year.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

How to Dress Well - What Is This Heart?

How to Dress Well
What Is This Heart?
20 June 2014
Domino
 
4 stars out of 5

 

Tom Krell’s brand of ambient R&B has been the soundtrack to many a Pabst Blue Ribbon-fuelled love-making session since his debut, Love Remains, was released to considerable acclaim in 2010. 2012’s Total Loss caused further copulation, and now the third How to Dress Well LP, What Is This Heart?, makes it basically impossible to keep your pants on. But it’s a sad, sad kind of action you get with Krell’s music—the kind you get after bumping into your ex at the bar and realizing she’s still incredibly beautiful, and then she remembers that she’d forgotten her favourite socks at your place so she might as well drop by to pick them up. As you undress each other you’re both crying drunken tears: half joy, half what-the-fuck-are-we-doing-this-is-so-pathetic-and-cliché.

What Is This Heart? isn’t the cliché—you are (hehe). No, Krell’s got his own vibe, and while he might reference the genre of R&B as a whole with his vocal style, this is a bit like saying Lee Ranaldo references heavy metal music when he stomps on his distortion pedal—it’s a mostly empty statement. While tracks like “Precious Love” and “Very Best Friend” definitely resemble “regular” R&B in its composition, their production and instrumentation beg to differ, and on What Is This Heart? they’re the exception rather than the rule.

There are some incredibly strong songs here: “A Power” is the emotional peak of the album, with a combined urgency and sorrow that recalls What’s Going On, while the closer “House Inside (Future Is Older Than the Past)” is the epic ballad that ties it all together. This is Krell’s best work to date, and if there are still any detractors of his out there, an honest listen to What Is This Heart? should be enough to change their minds.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

copeland - Because I'm Worth It

copeland
Because I’m Worth It
15 May 2014
self-released

4 stars out of 5

 

Inga Copeland is an elusive one. She’s granted only one interview in her career, which now includes over thirty releases, including around a half-dozen full-length albums and a dozen or so singles. Now “disassociated” from former Hype Williams cohort Dean Blunt, copeland (real name Alina Astrova) has ditched the (fake) given name and the capital letter and given us her first solo LP, Because I’m Worth It. It’s a brief but thrilling offering of dark experimental electronica from the Estonian-born, UK-based artist, revealing new secrets with each successive listen.

The Actress-produced “Advice to Young Girls” is an endearing—and suitably odd—lecture given by copeland to her younger sisters all over the world: “The city is yours.” “Insult to Injury” recalls early Photek in its percussion—those razor-sharp snares are perhaps making a comeback? I certainly hope so. “Fit 1,” way over on the second side, is the first track on Because I’m Worth It that features anything like a traditional song structure, but not really—it’s just that it’s the first instance of copeland using her throat to make sounds that resemble traditional singing. The more experimental “Diligence” and “Inga” see Astrova sounding a little like Martina Topley-Bird, only the music she’s created here to accompany her voice is far more interesting than anything off Maxinquaye.

As a statement of intent, Because I’m Worth It announces higher bit rates and greater focus, though its half-hour running time seems rather less than generous (this is, on the other hand, roughly 50% longer than last year’s Higher Powers). In the case of copeland, too much of a good thing would definitely be seen as a good thing, especially since this vinyl is in an extremely limited edition.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Martyn - The Air Between Words

Martyn
The Air Between Words
17 June 2014
Ninja Tune

3 stars out of 5

 

Dutch DJ/producer Martijn Deijkers gives us his third LP under the moniker Martyn, The Air Between Words, and it’s yet another whiplash-inflicting switch in direction. Long gone is the dubstep of his 2009 debut, Great Lengths, as is the 2-step/garage revivalism of 2011’s Ghost People. Now, Martyn is mining the burned-out wastelands of Detroit techno in this fifty-three minute homage to Carl Craig and Juan Atkins, and while successful on tracks like “Empty Mind” and “Lullaby,” Deijkers doesn’t sustain a fresh approach to the genre over the length of the album.

It’s not all Detroit here—“Drones” is basically Chelmsford circa 1995 (that means early Squarepusher for you non-Essex-residing folks), minus the frantic drum’n’bass drum programming. Former Hype Williams member Inga Copeland (sorry, it’s just “copeland” now, without even a capital C for emphasis) is featured on “Love of Pleasure,” but the track doesn’t approach the exciting experimentation of her own material, either solo or with Dean Blunt. Album highlight “Like That” is oddly among both the most interesting and the most derivative tracks on the album—a case where Deijkers almost could be faulted for getting it too right.

The Air Between Words should have been a lot better than it is, but it isn’t, and that’s just the way it is. There’s no sense in us protesting en masse outside the Dutch embassy, waving our little signs and chanting our little activist tunes. There’s no petition we can sign nor NGO we can volunteer for in the jungles of Cameroon—we just have to heave our collective sigh on this one and accept that we cannot achieve a better Martyn record through democratic means. (That was a joke—protesting against the actions of a democratically-elected government is very clearly anti-democratic. *wink*) At any rate, Deijkers will probably get bored of Detroit techno within a couple of weeks anyway, so we should just wait to see what genre he decides to tackle next and maybe we’ll be satisfied again.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Boris - Noise

Boris
Noise
17 June 2014
Tearbridge

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Ask any North American music nerd to name a few Japanese bands and Boris will be among the first two or three listed. In their native Japan, however, no one knows who the fuck these dudes (and dudette) are. Noise is their nineteenth studio LP, and in the interest of appealing to the great gods of the Internet, it’s got a cat on the cover. Though traditionally pigeonholed as a hardcore act that morphed into a sludge metal band, Boris’s newer material is rather more elusive in its classifiability. Space rock? Probably, but what’s up with the odd New Wave pop of “Taiyo no Baka”?

The album opens with “Melody,” a very ‘90s slab of alt-metal-grunge that is almost impossible to not air drum to. Guitarist Wata takes over vocal duties on the slower (but much louder and sludge-laden) “Heavy Rain,” and then… Seriously, what’s up with the odd New Wave pop of “Taiyo no Baka”? This is my question to you, the reader. Please alleviate my puzzlement, I implore you. Next up is the 18-minute “Angel,” which doesn’t entirely erase the question of the puzzling previous song, but is still an enjoyable piece of prog-metal excess that would likely go down great with a couple of beers, a laser show, and a fog machine. The ‘80s thrash of “Quicksilver” is potent enough to cause serious injury if you attempt to use it as the soundtrack to your next lovemaking session.

Though not quite as awesome as Pink or Akuma no Uta, the cat-embossed Noise is still a good time to be had. While it’s possible that I’ll never get what’s up with the odd New Wave pop of “Taiyo no Baka,” I will air drum (with occasional flourishes of air guitar) to the album’s other seven tracks to my heart’s content regardless.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Lone - Reality Testing

Lone
Reality Testing
16 June 2014
R&S

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Nottingham’s Matt Cutler has been doing his thing as Lone since 2007. Reality Testing is his fourth proper studio LP, and it sees him at his most house—and by far his least hip-hop. As such, although there’s nothing here that’s excessively and straightforwardly dancey (bouncy tracks like “Begin to Begin” are the exception rather than the rule), neither is there anything especially challenging. But the album definitely has its moments, and rather than get into a general genre-bashing rant, let’s just move on and discuss the slab of vinyl at hand, shall we?

Cutler’s potential is fulfilled with cuts like “Jaded,” which combine wonky time signatures with classic IDM keyboard motifs. “Vengeance Video” is the kind of thing your parents were probably listening to when they dropped a little too much e and hooked up without a condom in a dark corner of the warehouse to produce you, you little beard-sporting poser shit. So your mom doesn’t even know your dad’s name—big fucking deal. You don’t need to hide your shame behind that ugly growth on your face. Razors are like 20 for $2 at the dollar store, you soy-veined idiot. Finally, “Cutched Under” is the album’s crowning glory: a healthy dose of off-kilter beats and dreamy vocal samples, guaranteed to put a smile on your face and perhaps even a few nods and toe-taps into your morning commute.

While a little less edgy than 2012’s Galaxy Garden, which explored the rave scene of a couple of decades ago, Reality Testing still delivers the goods in a fresh, from-the-harbour-to-your-corner-store-in-a-refrigerated-container fashion. You might find a few prime cuts for sushi here, or maybe even a few live crabs. Or, possibly, you’ve eaten a few too many tabs and those crabs climbing your legs with the intention to clip off your beard with their pincers are just a hallucination, dude.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

White Lung - Deep Fantasy

White Lung

Deep Fantasy

16 June 2014

Domino

4 stars out of 5

 

Deep Fantasy is the third “LP” (none of which clock in at more than half as long as a typical LP) by Vancouver punksters White Lung. Fans of the band will be pleased to know that they haven’t changed a thing from their 2012 international breakthrough, Sorry. When something works—and works really well—why fuck with it?

Still present among the band’s arsenal is the exciting interplay between Mish Way’s melodic vocal daggers and Kenneth William’s intricate minefield of guitar riffage. Tracks like the sonic flamethrower that is “Face Down” keep the punk crown of Canada firmly planted on the collective White Lung head… well, if such a thing were permissible, because, you know, fuck the monarchy and all that. “Wrong Star” is Zen Arcade, thirty years later: a thrilling hardcore composition that pushes the genre to its limits of both militant intensity and melodic hook appeal. “In Your Home” is an entire burst Enbridge pipeline’s worth of emotion splattered across the mosh pits of British Columbia and beyond.

Detractors who decry the lack of “growth” between Sorry and Deep Fantasy suffer from two illnesses: an inability to read the subtleties of the genre, and a malignant Victorian sense of “progress” that is anathema to the very core essence of punk. Despite the move to a much larger label, there isn’t the slightest degree of sell-out here. Whatever your opinion of White Lung’s spectacularly photogenic qualities, this band definitely knows how to bring the noise, and their discography is only becoming more impressive.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

The Antlers - Familiars

The Antlers

Familiars

16 June 2014

ANTI-

 

4 stars out of 5

 

 

Now five albums into their career, Peter Silberman’s The Antlers seem to have migrated as far as possible from their lo-fi folk origins while still maintaining their recognizable Antler-ness. Although there isn’t a lot going on here that could qualify as “folk” anymore, Silberman’s songwriting transcends genre and works in a realm high in the clouds above all that territorial nonsense. (Can’t see no borders from space! Well, except for the one between Haïti and the Dominican Republic, I suppose…) Familiars is an engaging suite of understated but powerful tunes, likely to stay on my iPod for quite a few years to come.

 

The arrangement of tracks like the trumpet-soaked “Hotel” and “Intruders” give them a feel as wide open as your mom’s legs were last night. Instead of density, hollowness is the quality best used to describe the sound of Familiars. The result is that the music has a stunning depth to it—there’s a whole world inside each song that you can crawl into and walk around in. In addition, Silberman & Co. favour longer arrangements (the shortest piece here lasts a mere 4:57), allowing you enough time to escape from each song after your extended explorations within them.

 

Though their softness for concept albums has earned them a reputation for being the Pink Floyd of lo-fi folk, The Antlers don’t operate within either the lo-fi or folk realms anymore. Nor is there a hint of pretension to be found on Familiars—the listener isn’t asked to forgive any awkward passages in the name of a greater vision; each track is a rewarding experience in and of itself. Yet another solid album from one of Brooklyn’s better bands.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Howling Bells - Heartstrings

Howling Bells
Heartstrings
2 June 2014
Birthday

3.5 stars out of 5

 

“I’ve got patience, but patience, it seems, ain’t got time for me,” sings Juanita Stein on “Slowburn,” from Howling Bells’ fourth studio LP, Heartstrings. The band’s wit and charm permeate this record, getting into every last pore. The London-residing Australians have sometimes been billed as a darker version of The Long Blondes, and while there were perhaps some moments on 2009’s Radio Wars that could justify such a classification, Stein & Co. have finally proven they deserve it with Heartstrings.

The ominous rattle of tracks like “Paris,” “Original Sin,” and “Heartstrings” gives notice that the band has arrived in 2014 ready to erase the memory of their poorly-received 2011 LP The Loudest Engine (not nearly as bad as some say, but not exactly their shining moment either). At about 32 minutes, Heartstrings is by far their briefest LP, with the result being that there’s no down time during the 10 tracks. Their vaguely post-something brand of indie rock is infused with a bit of chamber pop here, a bit of Morricone-style western there, and throughout the album their songwriting is tighter and more concise than ever.

Heartstrings is an enjoyable quickie of stylized dark indie rock. Perhaps it won’t be on your playlist three or four years from now, but you won’t have any regrets enjoying it now while it’s still fresh.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Anathema - Distant Satellites

Anathema
Distant Satellites
4 June 2014
Kscope

3.5 stars out of 5

 

In case you weren’t aware, there are still progressive rock bands out there. You might have thought that Muse and The Mars Volta had killed the genre for good, but some older, lower profile bands, such as Porcupine Tree and Anathema, have been keeping things going in their own, more understated way. (If you’d always believed that the words “progressive rock” and “understated” could never—never in a million fucking years—be found in mutual association, well there you have it. Your world has been destroyed. Time to start from scratch, rebuilding everything I destroyed just a couple of sentences ago. Your entire civilization. I recommend going without religion, capitalism, and warfare this time.)

Anathema started out in Liverpool as a doom metal band, but after a couple of albums began exploring goth metal. Shortly after this they found the prog, and now, ten albums into their career, they have three lead vocalists (including Lee Douglas, sister of drummer and John Douglas) and an expansive symphonic sound. The remainder of the band is comprised of the Brothers Cavanagh (Vincent on vocals and guitar, Daniel on vocals and guitar, and Jamie on bass), and keyboardist Daniel Cardoso.

Built around the three parts of the majestic “The Lost Song,” Distant Satellites is one grand statement after another. While there’s nothing especially envelope-pushing or challenging here, this is a very beautiful record, full of songs that require adjectives such as “sweeping” and “epic.” It’s a record that would make a nice counter point after having had to listen to something ridiculous like Frances the Mute.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

The Fresh & Onlys - House of Spirits

The Fresh & Onlys
House of Spirits
10 June 2014
Mexican Summer

3 stars out of 5

 

“The purpose of living is all in your mind,” sings Tim Cohen on “Animal of One,” the fourth track on House of Spirits, the fifth LP by San Francisco psychedelic garage band The Fresh & Onlys. Well, from a purely biological point of view, I would suggest that the purpose of living is all in your pants, though if your brain is in your pants, I guess that amounts to the same thing. Regardless of where your thinking meat is, it would still find House of Spirits to be a serviceable slab of psychedelic revivalism. There’s hints of the Grateful Dead here, though The Fresh & Onlys have more in common with Brooklyn contemporaries Woods than with the venerated saints of their home city’s storied past.

The F&Os operate within a realm where profundity is traditionally found in substances that accompany the music, rather than in the music itself. And hey, to each his own, dude. (I say this with sarcasm; I’m totally judging you.) House of Spirits is somewhere in the grey area. While from the lyrics it’s clear that Cohen is more poet than flake, as Nietzsche said, poets “muddy their waters to make them appear deep.” Except in rare instances (such as the noise-infused “Madness”), the music of House of Spirits is still mired in the mud of the psychedelic past.

To review: purpose, brains, pants, drugs, mud; grey areas, neutral ratings; poets, philosophers, psychedelia (note the false alliteration: three initial p’s, but three different initial sounds—clever, huh?); comparisons to the Grateful Dead (good), Woods (bad), balancing out to zero; judging; judging more harshly.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Jack White - Lazaretto

Jack White
Lazaretto
10 June 2014
Third Man

3 stars out of 5

 

Former White Stripe Jack White’s second solo LP, Lazaretto, is another traditionalist genre orgy along the same lines as 2012’s Blunderbuss. You’ve got yer blues, yer country, yer rock ‘n’ roll, all coming together to swap fluids with that same garage punk attitude that Jack & Meg made famous back in the late ‘90s (or the early ‘00s, if you were late to the party and thought that Elephant was their debut). There are a few great moments here, such as the irresistable come-on that is the title track, and the bizarre “That Black Bat Licorice,” but there’s also a lot of masturbation off in the corner.

The main problem with Lazaretto, and the last ten years of White’s output in general, is that it’s saturated with a sense of, “Hey look, guys! I’m playing fucking rock ‘n’ roll! Isn’t this so cool?!” While passion for one’s trade is certainly admirable, White’s particular brand of enthusiasm is ultimately distancing rather than engaging. And, of course, White’s traditionalism means that there’s not a molecule of innovation or invention to be found in the music of Lazaretto. These criticisms aside (which are more about White’s general approach to music rather than the product immediately under scrutiny), if you’re looking for 40 minutes of non-threatening, well-performed traditional American music, you could do a lot worse than Lazaretto.

To return to the orgy metaphor (for no particular reason other than that I like the idea in a purely academic sense), once all the guests have left and you’ve managed to find all the used condoms (well, most of them, anyway) strewn about your apartment, you’re left with a sense that, yes, you did listen to Lazaretto just now, and there were a few nice asses and maybe some sexy feet (if you’re into feet), but you’re not quite sure that it was really worth all the trouble. Are you really going to do all that again? Perhaps the emotional lube of some good Kentucky bourbon would help, but you know that’s just a tool to help you maintain your denial. Which is probably appropriate, because even though every one of your guests tonight was thinking about it the whole night long, no one dared talk about the Elephant in the room.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Hundred Waters - The Moon Rang Like a Bell

Hundred Waters
The Moon Rang Like a Bell
26 May 2014
OWSLA

4 stars out of 5

 

The Moon Rang Like a Bell is the second LP by Florida’s indie electronic outfit Hundred Waters. Concentrating on Nicole Miglis’s singing rather than on the beats, Hundred Waters are free to build songs around the vocals, resulting in music that takes on some odd and interesting shapes. When a song comes along that does center on the beat (“[Animal]”), Miglis still propels its ebbs and flows with the gravity of her voice.

“Cavity” and “Out Alee” are almost perfect dreamy electronic ambient pop: floating over you like a cloud, but bringing the occasional zap of lightning so you don’t get too comfortable. “Chambers (Passing Train)” pulls everything apart to explore a less structured electronica, while “Seven White Horses” is rock ‘n’ roll without the guitars. “Xtalk” borders on neo-soul territory, while “No Sound” is a frigid Baltic winter, full of frozen Viking goddesses and the low rumble of a distant ice breaker.

With The Moon Rang Like a Bell, Hundred Waters have planted their flag firmly in the easy-come, easy-go land of indie electronica, proving they are not just passing through on their way to other places, and making it difficult for fickle listeners to pass them by without taking notice.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Bob Mould - Beauty & Ruin

Bob Mould
Beauty & Ruin
3 June 2014
Merge

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Bob Mould has put out some twenty studio LPs now, either solo, with Hüsker Dü, Sugar, or under other names. The latest, Beauty & Ruin, sounds a lot like the eighth, Black Sheets of Rain, and the ninth, Copper Blue: melodic hard rock that was among the most engaging of the early ‘90s. In fact, the third track on Beauty & Ruin, “I Don’t Know You Anymore,” could be thrown into the middle of Copper Blue and no one would realize it had been recorded twenty-two years after the rest of the album.

One could toss around accusations of “stagnancy,” but for two objections: 1) that horrible detour down Electronica Lane that Mould subjected us to a while back, making his new material a wilful return to form rather than a failure to escape from it; and 2) the fact that this new record, despite breaking absolutely zero new ground, is really fucking solid. How could anyone fault the man who made Copper Blue for wanting to remake it? It was one of the best records of the decade. And while Beauty & Ruin isn’t as expansive or as explosive as its ancestor, it’s a good reminder that Mould, now 53, can still melt the skin off your face with his amplifier if he choses to do so.

At some point during the last decade and a half it was feared that Mould had abandoned his strengths in a misguided attempt to remain “relevant” and “hip.” Thankfully, Beauty & Ruin, like its immediate predacessor, Silver Age, sees Mould saying, “fuck that shit,” and concentrating on writing songs rather than following trends.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Echo & the Bunnymen - Meteorites

Echo & the Bunnymen
Meteorites
26 May 2014
429

3.5 stars out of 5

 

It’s pure coincidence that this is the second album I’ve reviewed this week that was produced by Youth (who is, incidentally, 53 now). What is perhaps not a coincidence is that the artists performing these albums, Peter Murphy and now Echo & the Bunnymen, both released their first LPs in 1980, along with—wait for it—Killing Joke, of whom Youth is a founding member. While very different bands, both Peter Murphy’s Bauhaus and Ian McCulloch and Will Sergeant’s Echo & the Bunnymen were (and remain) two very different bands, but were lumped together (along with Killing Joke) under the banner of “post-punk” from the beginning. Meteorites is E&tB’s twelfth studio LP (thirteenth if you include Burned), and while it’s unmistakeably a McCulloch & Sergeant record, it has little in common with 1980’s classic Crocodiles except for core personnel.

It could be argued that E&tB sanded off most of their edges and fell into a comfortable and confident groove with the stunning Ocean Rain back in 1984, so to remark upon how smooth and sleek Meteorites is would be akin to saying that trees’ leaves tend to be green. The vocal hooks of “Holy Moses” and “Explosions” could have been included on that record thirty years ago, while “Market Town” takes those hooks and morphs them into an epic of over seven and a half minutes. There are more hints of shimmering dream pop guitar here than has been typical of E&tB’s music in the past. The closer, “New Horizons,” could be Cocteau Twins, or This Mortal Coil, or perhaps just something off the 2014 remake of Ocean Rain.

While most traces of the “post-punk” label have long-ago disappeared from McCulloch & Sergeant’s work, one would find it difficult to find evidence that they have sold out or watered down their product. Meteorites is an honest record, featuring no pretension or contrivance. It may feel comfortable, but it’s the good kind of comfort, not the bad kind.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Parquet Courts - Sunbathing Animal

Parquet Courts
Sunbathing Animal
3 June 2014
What’s Your Rupture?

4 stars out of 5

 

Sunbathing Animal is the second full-length by Brooklyn’s Parquet Courts. The spawn of a bizarre love triangle between The Velvet Underground, The Fall, and The Modern Lovers (see “Dear Ramona”), PC’s music seems at times to be designed for the boutique vinyl industry. It’s wilfully antique-sounding—at times one wonders if the album is a b-sides and rareities collection from some obscure late-’70s post-punk group.

The slow, drawn-out harmonica freak-out that is “She’s Rolling” could easily be from Live at the Witch Trials. The very next track, “Sunbathing Animal,” is something of a cross between Minor Threat and Spacemen 3: the speed of straight edge punk married to the meandering, brain-damaged guitar soloing that is often associated with an excess of psychedelic drugs. “Ducking & Dodging” and “Raw Milk” represent polar opposites—one fast and frantic, the other slow and hazy—in the VU-niverse (because this all comes down to The Velvet Underground, really).

Sunbathing Animal is a lot more well-thought-out that in might seem at first listen: though it seems to be an album made by traditionalists working in a genre that despises tradition, it’s not just about the faux retro. There’s more than enough content here to distract from the pretty container. A competent second step on the ladder to what could become a very important career.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Fucked Up - Glass Boys

Fucked Up
Glass Boys
3 June 2014
Matador

4 stars out of 5

 

Glass Boys is Fucked Up’s fourth studio LP, and it finds the Toronto hardcore punk unit as melodically visionary as ever. After the rock opera that was 2011’s excellent David Comes to Life, Fucked Up have got rid of the artifice for a more direct approach on Glass Boys. While still essentially a concept album, it’s a concept album about being Fucked Up, so the band is free (or forced) to just be themselves.

While there’s no immediately-arresting epic like “Son the Father” here, Glass Boys contains its own jewels. “Echo Boomer” opens the album in much the same way as the Mountain opened the Red Viper’s skull. While they’re somewhat troubled about it, Damian Abraham & Co. invite you to sing along on “The Art of Patrons,” as dangerously catchy a tune as “Queen of Hearts.” “Warm Change” sees the band almost jamming, indicating how loose and comfortable they feel on this record. “The Great Divide” is a pop song by Fucked Up’s standards: a three-and-a-half minute explosion of warm melodic embrace, where Abraham makes no bones about directing you to “sing along to this song.”

The album’s title track is also its closer: an epic of changing tempos and melodies, featuring some scalding wit (“there’s a tunnel at the end of the light where you will find me”), and ending with gentle piano meanderings. It’s the kind of song that comes to mind when one thinks of the ideal Fucked Up song. Does this make it almost self-parody? In a way, but since the whole record is about being this band that is called Fucked Up, the lines between the parody and the authentic are blurred at best. Lyotard would be all over this action.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Peter Murphy - Lion

Peter Murphy
Lion
2 June 2014
Nettwerk

3 stars out of 5

 

Lion is Peter Murphy’s ninth solo studio LP, and his second since Bauhaus’s reunion LP of 2008, Go Away White. It’s a collaboration with producer and Killing Joke bassist Youth, whose contribution is heard right from the opening track, the lead single “Hang Up,” which sounds a bit like David Bowie fronting, well, Killing Joke. Murphy’s vocal acrobatics take center stage on Lion, with the songs not quite able to keep up. Perhaps this is the point: the diva must not be outshone by the music.

“I Am My Own Name,” sees Murphy’s instrumental backing taking a stumble with only the second track, while in the meantime Murphy’s vocals reaches an early summit. Tracks three to six are worth exercising your skip button finger, but if you’re really into derivative and predictable rock music (not even goth rock music—this is pretty characterless stuff), then go right ahead and give it a listen. “The Rose” is another summit of vocal virtuosity, this time in ballad form, though the music remains dull. With “Eliza,” Murphy and Youth manage to beat Andrew Eldritch in the race to create new Sisters of Mercy material.

While clearly Murphy has lost nothing in his more than thirty-year-long solo career in terms of his lyrical abilities or his truly electrifying performance skills, on Lion the music is almost completely uninteresting. It’s akin to serving up truffles and caviar on a plate of Kraft Dinner. While there’s enough here in the way of truffles and caviar to overcome the KD and justify three stars, three still seems a bit too generous—call this 2.75, rounded up.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

The Brian Jonestown Massacre - Revelation

The Brian Jonestown Massacre
Revelation
19 May 2014
A

3.5 stars out of 5

 

Revelation is San Francisco-spawned, Berlin-based The Brian Jonestown Massacre’s thirteenth studio LP. It’s another psychedelic trip down ‘60s memory lane, though one with many detours and digressions through other equally drug-influenced eras of pop music, specifically the electronica of the ‘90s. This is not to say that Revelation has much in common with Dig Your Own Hole or Music for the Jilted Generation; rather, the spirit of the genre and its roots in the Madchester scene of the late ‘80s is what’s being invoked here, with tracks like “Duck and Cover,” “Memorymix” and “Fist Full of Bees” being prime examples.

The other half of the record is stuck in the ‘60s. While The Rolling Stones are still a towering influence over leader Anton Newcombe’s work, Bob Dylan’s spirit (okay, I know the man’s technically not dead) makes an appearance on Revelation as well. “Food for Clouds” is “All Along the Watchtower” with horns and reverb. “Second Sighting” is a flower child folk ballad, perhaps of the kind that would have morphed into a Canterbury-esque prog epic retelling some ancient druid legend (not a bad thing—I’d buy that) had Newcombe & Co. been actually out of diapers back when Robert Wyatt and Kevin Ayers had been dedicating that sort of thing to magnetic tape.

Revelation sees BJM continue to roll along at a good pace, now almost twenty-five years into their careers. Though now living in Germany, Newcombe’s music is as English as ever, perhaps even more so. He’s found a comfortable groove, but one that is nonetheless exciting and entertaining.

reviewed by Richard Krueger