Perfume Genius - Too Bright

Perfume Genius

Too Bright

23 September 2014

Matador

 

4.5 stars out of 5

 

 

Seattle’s Mike Hadreas performs under the name Perfume Genius. Too Bright is his third album, an eclectic collection of chamber pop tunes produced by Portishead’s Adrian Utley, and it’s by far Hadreas’s most experimental and ambitious work to date. The arrangements are sparse, often simply keyboard and voice, but the compositions have been pulled inside out and performed with an intensity that puts Hadreas somewhere between Antony Hegarty and Xiu Xiu’s Jamie Stewart.

 

From the glam bombast of “Queen” to the sparse agony of “I’m a Mother,” Too Bright is a powerful statement. The record catapults Hadreas into “serious artist” territory, with a level of confidence and artistry that indicates it’s no fluke. Despite Utley’s involvement, the songs here derive strength from their emotional intensity, brought out through Hadreas’s hair-raising performance, rather than from any overbearing studio wizardry. If you miss this record you’ll never forgive yourself.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Jamie T - Carry on the Grudge

Jamie T

Carry on the Grudge

29 September 2014

Virgin EMI

 

3 stars out of 5

 

 

Carry on the Grudge is the third LP by English singer/songwriter Jamie T (né Treays), and his first in five years. I wish I could be more positive about this record, but I’m not a dishonest person by nature, so I’m just going to say it as it is.

 

“Trouble” is a decent track for what it is that Jamie T does. It’s upbeat, full of fun little details and angry sneers. Same goes for “Rabbit Hole,” which in 1994—or even 2004—would have been a happening tune, but in 2014 just seems tired and old. Treays is an earnest and clever lyricist, but he’s mired in tradition and makes little effort to subvert said tradition. There’s nothing particularly awful here, but there’s also nothing remotely memorable, noteworthy, or even worth checking out on YouTube.

 

Carry on the Grudge is the type of halfway record that disheartens me as a reviewer: it’s not good enough for happy thoughts and it’s not bad enough for serious dissing (which is also a form of happy thoughts). If you make a shitty record and I get to thoroughly rip it apart, I’m happy. If you make a brilliant record and I get to gush on about how it’s multiple orgasms in your ears, I’m happy. But if you give me mediocrity like Carry on the Grudge, you’ve thoroughly pissed me off. So here’s your fucking three stars, mister.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

SBTRKT - Wonder Where We Land

SBTRKT

Wonder Where We Land

23 September 2014

Young Turks

 

3 stars out of 5

 

 

Wonder Where We Land is the second LP by London-based electronic producer Aaron Jerome, aka SBTRKT. Jerome isn’t a social person, preferring to perform behind a mask and to not talk to DJs who are playing his records, which is always tricky if you’re trying to make a living from your music—a process which inevitably means marketing yourself as the personality behind the music. (The appropriation of First Nations motifs in his masks is another matter, best left to a discussion about politics rather than music.) For someone who wishes to be a nobody, he’s managed to convince some pretty big names to be guest vocalists on the album, including Sampha, Chairlift’s Caroline Polachek, Vampire Weekend’s Ezra Koenig, Jessie Ware, and A$AP Ferg.

 

The results are neither here nor there. Wonder Where We Land isn’t a classic by any means—nor is it by any definition bad—and all of the vocal firepower is rather more underwhelming in practice than in theory. It has promise in all sorts of places, from the oddball sonics to Koenig’s turn as a ‘70s funk/soul singer, but the finished product is, unfortunately, rather blah. Not happening enough for the dance floor, not chill enough for the chill-out room, and not I enough for solitary IDM listening, WWWL is destined to become a lost record, and a lost chance for Jerome and company to come up with a good meal using the ingredients they had.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

alt-J - This Is All Yours

alt-J

This Is All Yours

22 September 2014

Infectious

 

2.5 stars out of 5

 

 

Leeds “folk-step” trio and Miley Cyrus fans alt-J are coming at you now with their second LP, This Is All Yours. The record provides the much needed missing link between the English progressive folk scene of the ‘70s and the dubstep movement of the last decade or so, because obviously we needed this. (That was sarcasm—this record isn’t needed by anyone, plus there is so little dubstep present here that one suspects it’s some sort of diluted homeopathic dubstep.)

 

There’s some really awful stuff on this album. “Left Hand Free” is some sorta Rolling Stones wanking session that melds seamlessly into the next track, “❦ (Garden of England),” a medieval flute tune. (That was sarcasm—it’s a complete failure to meld.) “Choice Kingdom” is the best attempt to copy Radiohead since everything Coldplay ever did. (That was sarcasm—even Coldplay makes a better Radiohead than alt-J.) “Hunger of the Pine” is the best use of a Miley Cyrus sample ever. (That was sarcasm—the sample is completely pointless and doesn’t have anything at all to do with the song itself or its lyrics.) And it’s all downhill after that.

 

It’s probable that the only ways to enjoy this record are 1) while the volume is turned down to zero; 2) while you are deaf; or 3) while you have bad taste, the kind of taste that people who have listened to only three records in their lives have, two of those records being The Fame and The Fame Monster. It’s a fail in all categories, though the wall-painting disaster that is the cover art does look like it would taste good if it were a sugary confection.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Lætitia Sadier - Something Shines

Lætitia Sadier

Something Shines

23 September 2014

Drag City

 

4 stars out of 5

 

 

French singer and multi-instrumentalist Lætitia Sadier, most well known as co-founder and leader of one of the very best bands of the ‘90s, Stereolab, has just released her third solo LP, Something Shines. Even though Sadier worked with seemingly hundreds of different musicians, none of whom had been collaborators in her former band, Something Shines sounds pretty much exactly like a Stereolab album. It’s got all of the distinctive picked bass sound, kraut rock rhythms, and ethereal horn flourishes of Emperor Tomato Ketchup or Dots and Loops, and it isn’t remotely ashamed of this fact.

 

One of Sadier’s trademarks has always been her lyrics, infused with the ideas of the giants of the Continental school of philosophy—Lyotard, Debord, Deleuze, Derrida, Foucault, Baudrillard, etc. The personal, confessional song has never been of interest to Sadier; rather, she seeks the profound, the life-changing, the society-changing. Example: “Do the rich need the poor to be rich? Would there be poverty if there weren’t any rich? Is it in the interest of the rich to eradicate poverty?” (from “Oscuridad”). Sadier’s grand statements haven’t been confined historically to her lyrics—part of what made Stereolab special was their delight in smashing apart traditional rock assumptions. In their music was a deconstruction of rock tropes that was a thrilling point of origin for the post-rock genre, and a welcome counterpoint to the contemporary trad-rock idiocy of bands like Oasis.

 

But then Stereolab appeared to fall into a musical rut, and to actually enjoy being there. Something Shines is a continuation of that rut, though by now it’s probably clear to most that what some people call a rut is what other people consider to be a very exciting place. Sadier’s music is anything but stale: she continues to innovate, only within a narrower set of boundaries. This record shows that Sadier is still vital even at age 46, showing no signs of losing her edge or her creative spark.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Dntel - Human Voice

Dntel

Human Voice

16 September 2014

Leaving

 

4 stars out of 5

 

 

Dntel is the pseudonym of American electronic musician Jimmy Tamborello, perhaps best known as one half of The Postal Service. Human Voice is his fifth full-length studio LP, and, as the title suggests, it features samples of actual human beings generating sounds using their vocal chords, although in a heavily processed manner—slowed down, sped up (sometimes both at once), reversed, and run through a zillion effects. This doesn’t happen on every track, however, and the instrumental music on the album is a wide array of enjoyable electronica, spanning various micro-genres from almost-glitch to not-quite-2-step-garage.

 

Regardless of which genre he’s subtly imploding, Tamborello injects each track with a playful sense of exploration. His compositions have direction, goals, aims, and are followed through to completion, but also have a sense of looseness and fun. Unusual for a Dntel record, there are no big-name guest vocalists on Human Voice, so the likelihood of its production of a hit like “(This Is) The Dream of Evan and Chan” is slim. This ain’t no party record, but it isn’t an over-thought and tedious concept album either. Human Voice is a living and breathing entity, and seems more easily approachable than his previous records that featured guest vocalists.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Aphex Twin - Syro

Aphex Twin

Syro

19 September 2014

Warp

 

4 stars out of 5

 

 

Along with Squarepusher and Autechre, Aphex Twin (sometimes known as Richard D. James) was one of the Holy Trinity of the ‘90s. Almost as famous for his antics as for his music, the man who owned a tank and threw a microphone in a blender while scratching sandpaper at live performances—all the while grinning maniacally—created some of the most innovative electronic sounds of the decade. And then, following the release of his last LP, the critically divisive drukQs, in 2001, he basically disappeared. Thirteen years later, presumably in an effort to raise some funds to pay off his accumulated parking tickets as a result of double-parking the tank, he returns with Syro, an LP which makes it seem like no time has passed at all.

 

James has been recording the whole time he was “away,” and Syro is one of a half-dozen albums he has completed (but not released) since drukQs. Instantly recognizable as an Aphex Twin record, its bleeps and bloops recall most closely his looser material from the Analogue Bubblebath EPs rather than the more frantic and claustrophobic later LPs such as Richard D. James Album. He’s also ignored the last thirteen years of trends in electronica, isolating himself in rural Scotland and producing an album that doesn’t seem to give a flying fuck about what anyone else is releasing these days. Syro is a unique, stand-alone mountain, within sight of the larger range of peaks of the electronica community, but neither paying much attention to what is happening over there nor caring much what the other mountains think about it.

 

James is still clearly a madman. What kind of electronica artists moves out into the Scottish countryside and see more goats and sheep than people? Mad ones, that’s who. And yet Syro is a very accessible and user-friendly record that doesn’t indicate madness at all. Which in itself is clearly mad. Obviously. And while it’s not always as readily apparent here as on his previous albums, James retains his sense of humour: “s950tx16wasr10 [163.97]” is basically Squarepusher’s “Come on My Selector” mixed with a microphone thrown in a blender and some sandpaper scratching.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Lowell - We Loved Her Dearly

Lowell

We Loved Her Dearly

16 September 2014

Arts & Crafts

 

3.5 stars out of 5

 

 

Perpetual vagabond Lowell (born in Calgary, grew up in the Yukon, now based in Toronto and London) gives us her first LP, We Loved Her Dearly. The media is throwing around comparisons to Grimes and the like, which is baffling to say the least, as the two artists have completely different approaches to songwriting and production (Lowell has worked with some huge names in both co-writing and recording; Grimes prefers to follow a path of extreme independence). Aesthetically, they’re not at all alike either—Lowell isn’t into electronica; Grimes is into euro-trash cheese (see “Go”). So can we all just stop? Since when are artists similar just because they’re blonde Canadian women? Moving on…

 

So what does Lowell have to offer? Thoughtful but unpretentious pop music with some unconventional sounds and arrangements. Lyrically, Lowell’s feminist confessional style is in the tradition of Tori Amos; her subject matter touches on her former career as a stripper (“I Killed Sara V.”) and her sexual orientation (“LGBT”). Lowell’s politics are understated and subtle, her music is upbeat and inviting. As a resume it’s impressive, and while We Loved Her Dearly is not a classic by any means, it points to a future for Lowell in which classic albums could come into existence.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

My Brightest Diamond - This Is My Hand

My Brightest Diamond

This Is My Hand

16 September 2014

Asthmatic Kitty

 

4.5 stars out of 5

 

 

This Is My Hand is the fourth album released by Shara Worden’s My Brightest Diamond. Much like her label boss and former collaborator Sufjan Stevens, Worden builds complex arrangements featuring a veritable orchestra of different instruments in each song, no two the same. An ostensibly indie pop record that touches on soul and jazz with its horn section flourishes, This Is My Hand is a powerful collection of songs that straddles the line between the experimental pop world of 2014 and the serious vocal music of Frank Sinatra and his ‘50s and ‘60s contemporaries, with a strong undercurrent of the prog-rock of Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush.

 

Each track here is built like a house designed by M.C. Escher, full of rooms without floors, staircases to blank walls, and doorways that appear and disappear seemingly at random. They are not so much songs as spectacles, masquerading as pop songs only because of the times we live in; if this were 1914 instead of 2014, these compositions would be just as at home in the radical classical company of Schönberg and Webern as they are today with contemporary Julia Holter. Perhaps the greatest achievement yet of Worden’s already very impressive career, This Is My Hand is an album that is not only an instant classic but one that will be looked at for years to come as one of the most important records of 2014.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

This Will Destroy You - Another Language

This Will Destroy You

Another Language

12 September 2014

Suicide Squeeze

 

3.5 stars out of 5

 

 

Texan “doomgaze” instrumentalists This Will Destroy You return with their third album, Another Language. A portmanteau of “doom metal” and “shoegaze,” the neologism isn’t all that honest: this is basically straight-up instrumental post-rock in the vein of Mogwai and the like, with slight nods in the direction of the two composite genres. And there ain’t nothing wrong with that. Produced by the seemingly omnipresent John Congleton, Another Language is a very pretty piece of work, and while it’s not terribly innovative or experimental, it knows how to push the buttons through its dynamics and minor-key chord progressions.

 

As far as instrumental post-rock bands go, TWDY are rather precise; they don’t indulge in long jams or navel-gazing improv sessions. Even the slow, almost ambient pieces like “Mother Opiate” are carefully controlled, never allowed to unravel into uncertain tangents. The more “rock” of the “post-rock” tracks, like “Invitation” or “Dustism,” stick to the script, though despite their tight compositions and performances they never feel stale or lifeless. Emotive but not aggressively challenging, Another Language is the perfect soundtrack to that post-breakup long drive through the forest in the rain that you’ve always wanted to do.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Shellac - Dude Incredible

Shellac

Dude Incredible

16 September 2014

Touch & Go

 

4 stars out of 5

 

 

For those of you who only know Steve Albini as the guy who produced Surfer Rosa, In Utero, Rid of Me, and Mclusky Do Dallas, plus countless other essential albums of the last two and a half decades, here’s the new Shellac album, Dude Incredible, on which Albini himself sings and plays guitar. According to the label, “There is no comma in ‘Dude Incredible,’ like Sir Duke or King Friday, for example.” Armed with this very helpful information, you’re now prepared to enter the sparse yet complex world of Shellac. Also know this: “Shit is coming down, and I’m riding bikes!” (from track four, the aptly titled “Riding Bikes”); and this: “Fuck the king!” (from “All the Surveyors”).

 

So what’s up with Dude Incredible? Once in a blue moon, when by some freak of scheduling he has no paid work, Albini gets a spare day to record his own stuff at his studio, and so he does. So, unlike most of his recording projects, where a band comes in and lays down in a relatively short few weeks, or even days, his own band’s records are put together from random sessions over the course of a few years. And yet, Dude Incredible sounds remarkably consistent and united. It’s got some post-rockety things happening in the rhythms, some of the typical Albini humour (“The People’s Microphone,” for example, contains no vocals), and absolutely zero bells and whistles. Remember the bone-dry sound of The Breeders’ Pod? That exact sound is here. Remember the mangled, bleeding rawness of The Jesus Lizard’s Goat? That same rawness is here. Obviously, Albini produced them both.

 

But enough excitement about what the man has done for other bands. Dude Incredible is a solid piece of work, full of interesting experiments and a common theme (!) revolving around surveyors, mappers, and the parceling out of the land stolen from the First Nations. It rocks and it has brains. It’s both unpretentious and intellectual. It’s the cool, sensible guy at the party who doesn’t even have to bother with insulting the music you’re playing—his coolness is contagious, and just the simple act of shaking his hand is enough for you to be infected with an awareness that everything you were listening to before was shit.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Sloan - Commonwealth

Sloan
Commonwealth
9 September 2014
Murderecords

3 stars out of 5

In case you'd forgotten, Sloan is one of the better known musical products of Canada's Atlantic provinces (and the band that gave you “the best Canadian album of all time,” Twice Removed), and you might be interested in discovering that they have just released their 11^th album, Commonwealth. The gimmick: each of the band's four members (Jay Ferguson, Chris Murphy, Patrick Pentland, and Andrew Scott) wrote and sang his own side of this double LP. You'd think that this would result in something bloated to epic proportions, but the whole project is still much shorter than one half of Speakerboxxx/The Love Below (and there was much rejoicing).

Things get started with the rhythm guitarist, Jay Ferguson, on the side titled, “Diamond.” Ferguson mines the late '60s and early '70s of The Beatles and their respective solo careers for his material, coming up with something which seems both a tribute to that era as well as stuck in it. Bassist Chris Murphy's suite (“Heart”) is rather more modern, although the mid-'90s alt-rock vibe he throws down is also rather less interesting. Lead guitarist Patrick Pentland kicks off his section (“Shamrock”) with some blue-based rock 'n' roll in the form of “13 (Under a Bad Sign),” perhaps a reference to blues legend Albert King, or perhaps not. Things stay in the same vein with “Take It Easy,” although straying dangerously close to Eagles territory (never a good thing).

By far the best and most interesting side (“Spade”) of the four is that of drummer Andrew Scott, and although it consists of only one song, that song is almost eighteen minutes long. “Forty-Eight Portraits” begins with several minutes of what seems like the band torturing a very upset dog with aimless jamming, but then things pull together without warning and zip along through and extended medley-like composition with more changes than a Girl Talk mash-up. It's “Forty-Eight Portraits” alone that earns Commonwealth its three-star rating; without it, we're looking at a two-and-a-half at best. It's a delight to listen to, the pleasant reward for having put up with the dull pretension of the previous three sides.

reviewed by Richard Krueger

U2 - Songs of Innocence

U2

Songs of Innocence

9 September 2014

Island

 

2.5 stars out of 5

 

 

By now most of the world has heard the story: U2 and Apple announced the new U2 record on September 9^th, and then released it that day, for free, to half a billion people (anyone who had an Apple ID). Reaction to the album was mixed—the usual haters, and the usual (and completely inexplicable) 5 stars from Rolling Stone. Reaction to the free release was stronger, from grateful fans to others violently angry that U2 and Apple had the nerve to rape their personal iTunes collection and impregnate it with Songs of Innocence. U2’s last LP, No Line on the Horizon, wasn’t well received, except by Rolling Stone, of course, who gave it 5 stars and declared it Album of the Year for 2009. Personally, I liked 3 or 4 tracks (the ones with the most obvious Brian Eno touch to them), hated most of the rest. The new album has nothing to like, although nothing to hate either.

 

U2 has made some of the best albums ever made by anyone: War, The Joshua Tree, Achtung Baby. They have also made some truly awful ones: Rattle and Hum, Zooropa. The last four have all followed the same forgettable formula: arena-sized rock songs that sought to recreate the hits of Achtung Baby without any of the experimental edge of that record. Songs of Innocence follows in this same tradition, although with the blandest, most tired-sounding results yet. If it were possible to approach this record while ignoring U2’s previous output, one would find a rather pedestrian collection of songs, full of pretension to big things without ever actually delivering them. But since this is U2 (admittedly one of my favourite bands ever), the results are downright disappointing. Consider: twenty years ago, a song like “Iris (Hold Me Close)” would have been a b-side, hidden away on a CD single among remixes and live versions of other, generally stronger tracks. Here, it’s the best track on the record.

 

Blame Danger Mouse? Whatever. God Himself (Brian Eno) produced No Line on the Horizon and even He couldn’t save it from being a big mess. While there are no horrible missteps here like there were on No Line on the Horizon (“Get on Your Boots,” anyone?), there are no strokes of genius, either. Given the number of years the band put into making this record, one would expect at least a little bit of experimentation. Instead, we’re given (literally) eleven tracks so lacking in character that the only hope one can draw from Songs of Innocence is that Bono has finally learned how to reign in his ego.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Death from Above 1979 - The Physical World

Death from Above 1979

The Physical World

9 September 2014

Last Gang

 

3.5 stars out of 5

 

 

Coming almost ten years after their first LP, Toronto’s Death from Above 1979 have released their second, The Physical World. In the decade in between, the band saw international success, toured everywhere, broke up, reformed, smoked crack with Rob Ford, toured again with new material, and dated Beyoncé. (I may have made a couple of those things up.) The new material? Still the same fuzzy bass and drums, played loud and fast. The new romance? Rumour has it that Jay-Z has threatened James Murphy with lawsuits if he doesn’t stay away from his baby mama.

 

In all seriousness though, if you long nostalgically for 2004 and the whole garage punk revival thing, The Physical World is a suitable replacement. There are some great ass-shaking moments here, such as “Right On, Frankenstein!” and “Always On.” The lead single, “Trainwreck 1979,” is basically an encapsulation of everything NME loved in 2004: punk rock and dance in the same package. The title track is the missing link between Deep Purple and The Sex Pistols, and it’s not nearly as bad as that might sound.

 

DFA 1979 keep their sights narrow and focus on just doing what they do best: making hard, fast, danceable punk rock. That they do so without guitars is somewhat less revolutionary now than it was ten years ago, but is still unusual. The Physical World is made for good times, and while this may be an inherently shallow goal, it’s a goal everyone must strive for once in a while.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Pere Ubu - Carnival of Souls

Pere Ubu

Carnival of Souls

9 September 2014

Fire

 

4 stars out of 5

 

 

Post-punk pioneers and general weirdoes Pere Ubu, like fellow Ohioans Devo, were instrumental in the coming of age of the American indie scene, gently guiding it away from the loving mother’s teat of the British parent scene back in the late ‘70s through a series of innovative, unusual, and undeniably American records. Thirty-six years after their first LPs (both released in 1978), Pere Ubu have released their fifteenth, Carnival of Souls, and it is every bit as uncompromising as The Modern Dance or Dub Housing. (On a related note, I recently found a used copy of Tout Ubu, a compilation of all of Alfred Jarry’s writings and promotional material concerning Monsieur Ubu, for a mere $2. Score!)

 

One listen to “Dr. Faustus” will let you know just exactly what David Thomas & Co. have in store for you on Carnival of Souls. The track has no verse or chorus to speak of, no beat, no consistent tempo, and no actual singing, but still works as a song on many levels. It’s The Residents crossed with Einstürzende Neubauten, and it’s fantastic. When the Ubes do decide to approach the frontiers of pop song country, as on “Bus Station,” the results are predictably unpredictable. Everything falls apart and comes back together multiple times, without any warning. The closing track, “Brother Ray,” a nod to The Velvet Underground’s “Sister Ray” in both title and twelve-minute length, is a simultaneously chaotic and graceful revisitation of many of the album’s previous tracks.

 

Though the terms “post-punk” and “Ohio” have long united Pere Ubu and Devo in the minds of the public, in truth the bands are approaching the genre from completely different angles. Devo is pretty much synonymous with “clever,” or perhaps simply “weird for the sake of weird.” Devo are a joke that everyone is in on except The Man. Pere Ubu, and David Thomas specifically, are not a joke, not even remotely. When you listen to Pere Ubu, you are listening to naked, unedited pain. Where Devo is smug and distant, Pere Ubu is fragile and desperate. This is why Pere Ubu never get old or tiresome—they’re always giving you the truth, no matter how ugly and frightening it may be.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Karen O - Crush Songs

Karen O

Crush Songs

9 September 2014

Cult

 

1.5 stars out of 5

 

 

Yeah Yeah Yeahs singer Karen O has released her first solo LP, Crush Songs, featuring fifteen lo-fi recordings that zip by in twenty-five minutes. For the most part the album sounds like it was recorded on an old analogue cassette recorder, the kind where you have to press down the “play” and “record” buttons simultaneously in order to record into the built-in condenser microphone. The arrangements consist primarily of O’s vocals and former YYYs touring musician Imaad Wasif’s acoustic guitar, with occasional smatterings of primitive drum machine and backing vocal overdubs.

 

The songs, though? Brief, sparse, haunted, and very unfinished. One gets the feeling that Crush Songs represents O’s home demos (allegedly these were written and recorded in 2006 and 2007) of songs she had written for YYYs that never got used, or perhaps for a full-fledged solo album that never materialized. Unlike Nebraska, O never went into the studio to record proper versions of these songs, ultimately deciding to discard the more polished versions in favour of the demos. These seem to be literally just things she had sitting around, and when Julian Casablancas came around asking for something to release on his new label, rather than devote time to making a decent effort, she just gave him these. There’s no excuse for this. O has money, prestige, famous friends, and an Oscar nomination. She could easily get studio time and talented people to help her if she wanted to.

 

There are tracks here (“Rapt,” “NYC Baby”) that would be very solid if the artist took the time to take them seriously. I, myself, have hundreds of things like these sitting around, sketches of songs made quickly with acoustic guitar and voice performed (if I may use the term loosely) into a single shitty microphone, but I have the good sense to realize that I would be wasting everyone’s time and money (including my own) by throwing fifteen of them together on an LP and inflicting them upon the public. No, O’s tunes are not cool, vital, or legit because they are lo-fi. No, they are not an important insight into the artist’s creative process. Crush Songs is the musical equivalent of a poet throwing a bunch of unedited, uninteresting crap into the photocopier and folding and stapling it into a poorly made chapbook, expecting that the world will forgive the content, effort, and finished product and proclaim her to be a genius anyway.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Interpol - El Pintor

Interpol

El Pintor

8 September 2014

Matador

 

4 stars out of 5

 

 

 

Interpol’s fifth LP, El Pintor (an anagram of “Interpol” that means “the painter” in Spanish), is their first without original bassist Carlos Dengler. For most bands, the departure of the bass player would be something of a non-event—at least to the general public—but for Interpol, this is a big freakin’ deal. Part of what made Interpol’s sound so exciting on their debut was the interplay between the bass and the drums (see “Obstacle 1”), and with guitarist/vocalist Paul Banks taking over bass duties in the studio, doubt existed as to whether or not things would still “work.” Well, cast off your doubts, my children, as pretty much everything about El Pintor works, and works very well, thank you very much.

 

“Anywhere” is a tidy little ditty that looks back at “Evil” and laughs at the older track’s relative lack of sophistication. “Same Town, New Story” sees Interpol just nailing it in terms of their established aesthetic before pushing the boundaries and annexing completely new stylistic ground with “My Blue Supreme.” (Well, okay, it’s the same old stylistic ground, but pushed to the extreme.) Things don’t peter out after that, either. Every track is strong and aims straight for the bulls-eye of what it means to be Interpol.

 

El Pintor, while never straying far from the sound that was set in stone back in 2001 on Turn on the Bright Lights, is less restrained and cautious than the two LPs immediately preceding it, Our Love to Admire and Interpol. The band sounds relaxed, almost as if they were having fun during the recording process. (Fans recoil in horror at the idea that their heroes should ever even consider such anathema as “fun” or “laughing” or even “not frowning.”) Every new Interpol record is a huge event, but El Pintor is the first time in a decade when the product on offer feels truly worthy of the ceremony.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Sinkane - Mean Love

Sinkane

Mean Love

1 September 2014

DFA/City Slang

 

3 stars out of 5

 

 

Sudan-born, Ohio-raised, Brooklyn-based musician Sinkane is all over the musical map. His third LP, Mean Love, ranges from ‘70s soul to Afrobeat to Kraut rock to country. The opener, “How We Be,” is part Pretzel Logic-era Steely Dan, part soundtrack to a ‘70s blaxploitation flick. The very next track, “New Name,” is part Fela Kuti, part His Name Is Alive circa Detrola. As a refugee fleeing the conflict in Sudan with his parents as a young child, Sinkane (born Ahmed Gallab) is, like millions upon millions of others on the planet, a citizen of multiple worlds. Is this why Mean Love is so diverse in its influences? Possibly, but the simple chronological order of events doesn’t mean causation. Plenty of musicians who have never moved more than ten kilometres from their place of birth genre-hop freely, actively absorbing and reinterpreting various kinds of music from around the world. And there are plenty of those who do the opposite. I’m sure Sinkane would rather we concentrated on his music than his past.

 

So, the music? Upbeat, inviting music with serious, often intensely personal and emotionally naked lyrics (see “Son”). There aren’t too many sharp edges here; everything is very polished and precise—it’s not difficult to imagine Sinkane as a control freak in the studio (much like Steely Dan). There’s no sense that anything is the result of a happy accident or even improvisation (which is fine—after all, Pretzel Logic is a magnificent work of art which is incredibly anti-improvisational). The effect here, however, is to sterilize somewhat what could have been a very powerful record. When Sinkane sings, “I will not forget where I came from,” on “Son,” there’s a sense of sadness—not so much from empathizing with what must have been a harrowing childhood experience, but from regretting that the music and performance isn’t as powerful as one would hope for in such a song.

 

Perhaps Sinkane’s career as a session musician has pushed him into playing only what’s on the sheet music, but what’s lacking on Mean Love is a loose, emotional performance. If he can break free from his inhibitions and learn how to unhinge himself a bit, his next record will be very impressive indeed.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Zammuto - Anchor

Zammuto

Anchor

2 September 2014

Temporary Residence

 

4 stars out of 5

 

 

In the storied tradition of Van Halen and Bon Jovi, Zammuto is a band named after their primary songwriter, Nick Zammuto. He is perhaps more well known as one half of the acclaimed experimental electronic duo The Books, whose four albums, including Thought for Food, The Lemon of Pink, and Lost and Safe, are classics of the early Third Millennium. Anchor is Zammuto’s second LP since The Books broke up in 2011, and it features contributions from Snowblink’s Daniela Gesundheit.

 

Breaking free from the dense, forbidding clutter of their self-titled debut, Zammuto opens up a lot of space on Anchor. Songs are given room to unfold naturally and reveal their subtleties. The drums of “Sinker” attack and decay as they provide what would normally be the task of a melodic instrument. The opener “Good Graces” cradles Gesundheit’s vocals in a sample-strewn but relaxed electronic embrace, while the closer “Code Breaker” sounds like King Crimson’s interpretation of Afrobeat. “Your Time” is the “Polly” of the electronica world; in a similar vein, Zammuto actually cover the traditional song “Henry Lee,” without any pretences to folk tradition beyond the lyrics.

 

Anchor sees Nick Zammuto back on track after the slight mis-step of the previous record. If you loved The Books you’ll find similar pleasure with this record. If you’re new to Zammuto’s music, this is the perfect starting point.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Blonde Redhead - Barragán

Blonde Redhead

Barragán

2 September 2014

Asawa Kuru

 

3 stars out of 5

 

 

No one could ever imagine Blonde Redhead jumping onto a stage amid a massive display of pyrotechnics and shouting out, “Hello, Cleveland!” The band doesn’t have even the slightest tendencies toward rock star behaviour, and their ninth LP, Barragán, is such a wallflower of a record that at times it seems to apologize politely for causing any disturbance to your day. Long gone are the distorted shoegazing guitars of 2007’s 23, though BR uses the opportunity to expand their songwriting into many different directions.

 

Barragán is a quiet, unassuming selection of seemingly unrelated pieces, from the Italo disco of “Dripping” to the sound collage of “Defeatist Anthem (Harry and I).” There’s the goofy “Cat on Tin Roof,” which leads into the gothic lullaby “The One I Love,” though neither track especially enhances or complements the other. The disconnectedness of the record works against any sense of listening to a conceptual whole; indeed, Barragán seems to be a collection of highlights of the last four years of bedroom experiments. The more fully realized pieces, such as “Penultimo,” do hint at the genius of the band’s previous records, though in the end this new album feels more like a collection of odds and ends rather than as a proper LP.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Merchandise - After the End

Merchandise

After the End

25 August 2014

4AD

 

3.5 stars out of 5

 

 

You know a band isn’t terribly interested in becoming well-known when they’ve released five LPs and don’t even have a Wikipedia entry. When Floridian indie band Merchandise appeared on a couple of year-end lists in 2012 for Children of Desire, I found it difficult to find out much information about them. Now they’re with legendary British label 4AD, but despite rubbing shoulders with the likes of the Pixies and Dead Can Dance no one has got around creating that Wikipedia entry. For a band that’s named after things specifically created to be sold, they don’t seem terrible interested in selling themselves.

 

But the music? On After the End Merchandise have adopted a sound and style much different from their the lo-fi punk of their previous albums—picture a less dancy Psychedelic Furs or a less ragged Echo & the Bunnymen. (Those without much imagination would see similarities to The National, but these are superficial at best). This is apparently (according to the brief blurb on 4AD’s website) an intentional reinvention on the band’s part, aided by having Gareth Jones (Interpol, Depeche Mode, Grizzly Bear, These New Puritans) mix the record that the band produced themselves. These new factors in the band’s approach are most readily apparent on the seven-minute title track, a glossy tribute to the London scene of 30 years ago, but without any of the keyboard goofiness that makes some of that music sound dated today.

 

How ‘80s is Merchandise now compared to the ‘90s sound of their previous records? Check out the video for “Enemy.” Doesn’t that have Echo & the Bunnymen written all over it? Yes, it does. And that is a very good thing.

 

reviewed by Richard Krueger

Cymbals Eat Guitars - LOSE

Cymbals Eat Guitars
LOSE
26 August 2014
Barsuk

4 stars out of 5

Staten Island indie rockers give us their third LP, though it becomes less and less believable that they are from NYC, or even the USA, with each release. England, circa ten years ago? Sure, I'd buy that story. Regardless, LOSE is a well-written, well-performed album of ambitious, almost symphonic indie rock. It's a sleeper that grows more impressive with successive listens, revealing details hidden in the distorted haze of guitars, a bit like the skyline of Bayonne emerging from the early morning fog across the Kill Van Kull. (I'm only imagining that this is a thing, having been to neither Staten Island nor Bayonne. But I digress.)

Cymbals Eat Guitars are at their best when they extend their material beyond five or six minutes, letting their compositions play out in multiple variations. Songs like “Jackson” and “Place Names” show their affinity for prog-indie, the latter seeming to be a tip of the hat to the genius of Dan Bejar. The eight-minute adventure of “Laramie” meanders through various different tempos and swirling motifs before safely depositing the listener at the doorstep of the sunny pop melody of “Chambers.” Things come to a close with “2 Hip Soul,” another constantly mutating epic that sounds a bit like Arcade Fire in straight-ahead rock mode.

One of the better back-to-school LPs released so far this season, LOSE is definitely worth your attention if you're one of those folks still holding out hope that indie rock has something worthwhile to offer. Give it your patience and it will give you its treasures.

reviewed by Richard Krueger