Posts tagged Album
Review/Listen: - Nick Waterhouse - Time’s All Gone
In an era of mass-produced, Garageband manufactured music, authenticity can be a hard to find. The title of this album, “Time’s All Gone”, hints at a throwback to simpler times, and so it is: at the height of “Time’s All Gone”, you can almost imagine being in the room with Nick Waterhouse as his band play small snippets from another time, his regal backup vocals, his own unsettling voice, and the noisy band that are too riled to play better. It’s reminiscent of a past three decades before his time while still seeming new and fresh, as if it happened only a moment ago. There’s humbleness about this album that doesn’t seem contrived. It’s fast, noisy, rowdy, and gritty, but it feels natural, without coming off as a duplicate.
On the opener, “Say I Wanna Know”, you can almost hear the hiss of the needle touching the vinyl as the drums kick in, the harsh brass overwhelming the song before Waterhouse sings. What follows is what feels like a party in a narrow club on a street that’s always wet, with the band almost invisible from all the smoke floating overhead. On track, “Don’t You Forget It”, you can nearly hear the horn almost seems to give a smoky rasp.
“Raina” earns the title of my favorite track, mostly due to the fact that Waterhouse doesn’t quite have the strength vocally to carry the song. The backup vocals bare most of the weight, but it’s his sincerity that gets the last word. While every track seems perfectly arranged, every detail scrutinized, it’s the roughness of the sound that makes it seem just as slapped together as it is supremely constructed. “(If) You Want Trouble” might be the best result of this formula. The rapid fire call-and-response between the band and vocals makes everything feel of the moment. Even on “Indian Love Call” Waterhouse nails the stereotypes of the era he so successfully apes, complete with faux-Indian percussion sounding more like a rain stick, delivered with a wink. The most primal moments are when the band are left to their own devices, specifically in the closer “Time’s All Gone Pt.2”. It’s the organic movements of each instrument that create a tension that is both poignant and fierce.
On summer nights as a child, I would often listen to old records, 45s mostly, with my grandfather, as the adults would play cards or watch sports in the other room. It was those moments I was taken back to constantly throughout this release. Deriving from the late 1950/early 1960s doo-wop, the mono-production is as flawed as the wobbly vinyl I use to spin. You can hear the earnestness in the SoCal singer/songwriter’s shouts, grunts, or snickers. It’s the album’s lightness that makes it so approachable. The central theme of love in all its forms make it indeed a labor of one, a love letter to a time and sound that clearly speaks to Waterhouse as much as it does to others like me. Stream “Time’s All Gone” below.
Connect with Nick Waterhouse - Facebook | Twitter | Soundcloud | Website
Review/Listen: Grass Widow - “Internal Logic”
San Francisco-based trio Grass Widow, made up of Hannah Lew (bass), Raven Mahon (guitar), and Lillian Maring (drums), collectively share duties on vocals, weaving together melodies steeped in metaphor as gleamed from each of the members’ personal narratives. Always shying away from directly referential, confessional song structure, this lo-fi post punk band steadfastly refuses to get behind one specific front person.
Since 2010’s “Past Time”, the band has toured extensively throughout the US, the UK, continental Europe, and China. In the meantime, they founded their own label, HLR, and wrote several of their own music videos under the direction of Lew, who has also directed videos for other Bay Area artists such as Hunx And His Punx and Shannon And The Clams . They’ve opened for the likes of Sonic Youth, The Raincoats, and Wild Flag, had a cameo appearance on Portlandia, and will soon be hitting the road in June to headline their own tour in support of their latest endeavor, “Internal Logic”, out May 29th.
From the first track, “Goldilocks Zone”, through a hazy, electronic build-up, the vocals are gradually introduced, instantly starting off with a more sophisticated and compelling lead-in. It is obvious that Grass Widow have gained both confidence and musical proficiency since “Past Time”. There is a more adaptable and spatial quality to their current offering: though they sound more tight, this tightness affords them the confidence to reach a little further afield and explore more complex musical territory.
Grass Widow’s vocals, which on previous efforts tended to roll over one another so rapidly that they were just as often dizzying as they were sublime, have been amped up to their full potential on “Internal Logic”. Extra clutter is cleared away, leaving behind what ought to have been there all along: uncompromisingly unique vocal contributions from all three, all of which come together to form a greater whole. This added sense of structure and wholeness was exactly what was lacking on their previous endeavors, in which songs sounded potentially gorgeous but seemed more like brief two second sketches, wisps of several good ideas, rather than a fully formed final product.
“A Light In The Static” is a great step up into a paired-down, spooky instrumental, done on a simple acoustic guitar that manages to evoke wonder and confusion succintly and delicately. The vocals on “Spock On Muni” are tight and together, the instrumentation also more vibrant. Also, it never hurts to make allusions to the best of all the Star Trek films (Geek Cred!).
Still, this album has its limits. The midsections is problematic, as Grass Widow seem to struggle with merging their garage band sensibilities with a more psychedelic, expiramental direction. Emerging from a standard flow of basic guitar noodling, they start to gain momentum and deviate in promising directions. Unfortunately, just when a song begins to show that it has found an interesting segway to another level of complexity, it will fizzle out or change direction again just a little too soon. Some of these gons could, and perhaps should, have been split in two.
I am nonetheless grateful to hear Grass Widow playing with more instrumental complexities, as there’s definitely a sense of greater things to come from this band. Certainly the hugely evocative album-closer “Responses To Photographers” suggests as much: played on what sounds like an aging, slightly out of tune upright piano, it evokes fragility and the idea of confronting invasiveness by weaving a layer of protection in the face of over-exposure.
This is comfortably Grass Widow’s most succinct and well-crafted album to date. While their music is at its most promising when it finds its way down interesting and surprising paths, their musical style still remains a little wobbly. Nevertheless, they are heading in the right direction, there are just a few kinks that need to be ironed out in order for Grass Widow’s sound to catch up with their abundant vision and artistic integrity. Judging from the leaps and bounds evident between their last album and “Internal Logic”, the best is yet to come.
Connect with Grass Widow - Facebook | Twitter | Website | Soundcloud
Review/Listen: Actress - “R.I.P.”
Darren Cunningham is London based producer Actress. Some see him as an understated genius, others as an over-analyzed dilettante. Which is it?
Actress’ 3rd LP, “R.I.P.”, falls right into place alongside recent efforts like Shlohmo’s “Bad Vibes” or Burial’s “Kindred EP” for their similar approach to their craft. Cunningham sounds and feels like a connoisseur for subtlety, yet, unlike the Shlohmo type, he fills the sonic gaps of his work in with some hard-hitting referential points. And unlike the masses of his technical field, Cunningham invests his work production elements recalling hip-hop, dance, techno and house, sometimes so subtly that it can pass you right by.
Actress’ technical skill and cerebral qualities are at an all-time high on “R.I.P.”.You’ll seldom encounter the level of detail and meditative exploration that occurs at every moment on this LP on other, more typical electronic albums. Actress has fully mastered a ‘less is more’ style, but can turn on a dime with same tools to create louder, heavier results.
Through the LP’s first half, we hear tracks “Marble Plexus”, where Cunningham deconstructs a house/techno skeleton and coats it with ambient sounds, which sounds like someone slowly dying of a brain aneurysm on a crowded dance floor, from an internal viewpoint. That’s a good sound. Trust me.
“R.I.P.” really takes off around when “Shadow from Tartarus” hits, as the album sheds its skin and reveals that Cunningham has been playing a part the whole time. “Shadow From Tartarus” reveals that even some of the most fundamental elements of the genres that Cunningham is experimenting with are superfluous to his ability to make interesting music: ordinary beats are an accessory for Actress. It’s a gorgeous turning point for the album, putting ambience just slightly aside and turning “R.I.P” into a two-tone sonic poem.
Whether you want to meticulously deconstruct these songs or simply fill an empty void with some ambient sound, “R.I.P.” can meet your needs. Cunningham’s beats are subtle, clever joys to the ears and when the beats disappear, he fills the space in with even smarter sonic ideas. Cunningham approaches the question asked earlier, proving Actress as a work of understated genius, making “R.I.P.” one of the best dub or ambient album of the year so far.
Review/Listen - El-P - “Cancer For Cure”
In both independent and mainstream music over course of history, certain genres have been almost lead, or progressed, by the particular individuals which inhabit them. Take for example shoegaze, which was developed much further by artists such as My Bloody Valentine or Slowdive, or perhaps post-punk, with early material from Talking Heads, Gang of Fours, Joy Division, and many more. No matter the genre and/or era of that genre, certain forerunners never cease to immediately appear clear to the knowledgable music listener.
Undoubtably, one of the pioneers of alternative hip-hop in the early 2000’s is none other than Jaime Meline, or El-P, a rapper, producer, and label head hailing from Brooklyn. Meline has not only made some of the most innovative hip hop in recent memory, he has also produced it and signed it. Over the course of around 11 years, Jaime was the head of Definitive Jux, a label he founded himself and used to release much of the best alt hip hop of the past decade, from himself, Aesop Rock, Despot, Cannibal Ox, and many more. In 2010, Meline announced that Def Jux would be put on hiatus in regards to signing new artists and releasing new material, in order for him to concentrate on the music he himself was crafting. As a result, five years since his last longplayer, El-P has arrived with a new album, entitled “Cancer For Cure”.
In terms of the production here, it exceeds all expectations that even the most loyal El-P fan would hold, especially with repeated listens. Even without repeated listens, it becomes immediately clear that this is an incredibly layered, finely crafted LP in regards to the production. The percussion is compressed, yet as hard hitting as we’ve ever heard El-P, while the synths that complement them vary greatly from track to track. For example, on “Oh Hail No”, the synthesizers which appear are pretty dirty, and during the verses, function more as some sort of bass, with a very low tone and what almost sounds like a very deep, focused tremelo. On the other hand, on “The Jig Is Up”, the synths are almost sci-fi sounding, and provide an increasingly complex melody, something the common fan of Jaime Meline’s music has come to expect.
Aside from the synths, many other sounds enter the mix to run alongside the beats on this record. Often, extremely industrial-sounding sounds will enter the mix, along with reverb-y keys, horns, ambient soundscapes in the background, or even electric guitar. The instrumental which results is often almost robotic, sounding like very fine steel which makes up the outside of a spaceship hovering over New York, brutally murdering all the inhabitants in the year 2763. There’s clearly some sort of incredibly grimey, futuristic presence in play throughout the record, almost like some sort of sonic narrative.
Moving away from the instrumentation, the vocals here are mind-blowing. Not only is the delivery the most fiery and aggressive we’ve heard El-P since his raw, unapologetic debut, “Fantastic Damage”, it’s also saying some of the most thought provoking things uttered by a hip hop artist since “The Money Store”. Like many of the tracks on his last album, “I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead”, a good number of tracks here inhabit some sort of introverted narrative, like “Sign Here”, where El-P interrogates a woman who remains anonymous, or “For My Upstairs Neighbor”, where he himself is interrogated, with the addition of an interesting twist revealed in the chorus.
Other tracks are just straight-up El-P spitting fire, with or without the help of friends, like “The Full Retard” or “Tougher Colder Killer”, the latter of which features Def Juckie Despot and Killer Mike (whose most recent record was also produced by El-P). Either way, the stretch of time between “Cancer For Cure” and “I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead” seems to have caused no wear to El-P’s lyrical talent, as he’s writing even better than before, coupled with an easy contender for best delivery of the year.
As a whole, “Cancer For Cure” is a twisted, futuristic, ambitious, unrelenting, and absolutely brilliant piece of work from a man we’ve all come to expect just that from. Though it follows the more polished approach of “I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead”, it possesses the sheer fire, anger, and drive of “Fantastic Damage”, with a completely foreign dose of experimentation which differs from the last album, a much different sense of progression, and an overall unique goal. While “Fantastic Damage” solidified El-P as a strong, ambitious solo artist, and “I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead” avoided the sophomore slump whilst providing a much more polished, sound coupled with longer songs and more experimentation, “Cancer For Cure” exists on its own plane. This is a plane of invention, of emotion, of experimentation, of the influence of other genres, of the future, of the current state of El-P. In short, “Cancer For Cure” is a huge, huge success.
Review/Listen: Killer Mike - “R.A.P. Music”
Killer Mike and El-P really are an unstoppable force. Not only do they have the best bromance ever, but “R.A.P. Music” combines two of my favourite things; Atlanta hip hop and El-P’s magnificent beats. Christmas has come early and in the form of a political gangster rap album, folks.
As disappointing as I am by my first impressions of “Cancer For Cure”, El-P will always, always, pull through on the production. And that is exactly the case on “R.A.P. Music”. El-P does this magnificent trick where he drops the sickest beat in sync with Mike dropping a killer bar (sorry). Now I’m not saying this doesn’t happen in any rap song, but it definitely doesn’t happen a dozen times per song, 12 songs over. This is evidence for El-P being one of the most outstanding producers out there. I’m very fond of El-P being a producer-for-hire, here’s to hoping he does it more.
The spectacular opening hit, “Big Beast”, is the very best song I’ve heard this year. It makes the best use of the features with T.I., Bun B and Trouble all at the top of their game. “Big Beast” absolutely blows my mind at how perfect the thing is. If there ever was a true hip hop song without any flaws whatsoever, this is it. I hate albums where the opener is the best song but here you know you’re in for a ride. What I love about it is that there’s no instrumental intro, it’s straight in with Mike’s irresistible grunts. No fucking around; straight in, go hard, don’t stop until it’s over.
“R.A.P. Music” is an album with so much style, whether it’s the short burst of energy that is “Go!” or the intense political song “Reagan”, hanging on every word of Mike’s intricately controversial lyrics. How can you not admire this album, you can’t say it’s dumb, never has the phrase “fuck the police” had more meaning than on this album. Neither has it sounded cooler. The album just gets bigger and bigger the further in we get. It’s like that Katamari ball that gets larger the more it rolls, with things sticking to it. These fucking songs are like planets, things orbit them, there’s gravity pushing so much stuff towards them no matter how hard they try to retract. These songs are those marbles the alien is juggling at the end of Men In Black.
Though this is the most thrilling and adrenaline pumping album I’ve heard in a while and am lost for words with how some of these songs make me feel, the song “Ghetto Gospel” is a bit of a buzz kill. It isn’t a bad song; it’s just lacking in thrills and ferociousness and even beats compared to the fireworks other songs ignite. Though one area the song isn’t lacking in is story. You know the album is something of a gem when the worst song is a work of poetry. No song is without a compelling slice of Mike’s Mind.
By the end of this incredibly exquisite album it’s a world of difficulty to listen to something else and not be underwhelmed. “R.A.P. Music” has so much momentum that you aren’t going to forget about it anytime soon. There is so much replay value with this album. I listened to it all day without realising until it was dark, and in no way would I consider that day wasted. I love Atlanta rappers. I say this in the straightest way possible; they have the sexiest voices. With this big album, and Big Krit’s and Big Boi’s album on the way (so many bigs) Southern hip hop is at the top of its game at the moment. It might be a bit of a push to call “R.A.P. Music” revolutionary, no matter how much Mike would like it to be, I’d prefer to call it relevant with a touch of genius. Two geniuses, even.
Review/Listen - Best Coast - “The Only Place”
When this album leaked, many Best Coast fans began a roller-coaster journey that I was able to witness while trying my hardest to get a hold of a physical copy. The first step was to ostensibly scream about the album while leaving a trail of download links and photos of vocalist/guitarist Bethany Cosentino and lead guitarist Bobb Bruno everywhere. This intense jubilation was followed by what I consider to be the biggest pivot from child-like delight to intense frustration and anger towards the new direction that Best Coast has taken on “The Only Place”, which has been labelled as “emo” by Cosentino herself. “The Only Place” takes a noticeably new approach in that the recording quality has been upped to reveal musical blemishes and glaringly simplified lyrics.
In all actuality, “The Only Place” is not a huge departure from Best Coast’s catalogue of lo-fi recordings about boys and weed. In fact, that seems to have been their initial appeal for many fans and these lyrics are still pertaining to that hopeful, young love that follows the “less is more” direction. The problem seems to be that the approach Best Coast has traditionally taken loses some of it’s innocence by opting for lush recordings. Best Coast fans are used to the fuzzy echo of Costentino’s voice and her vocal performances on “The Only Place” seem incredibly stark in comparison.
The opener and title track contains elements of Best Coast past: basic chords, lyrics about the sun, and one of Cosentino’s famously bratty melodies. In this instance, Best Coast is writing exactly what they’re expected to write and their reputation for being totally inoffensive is still intact. The track ends with the repeating lyrics of “This is the only place,” directly referring to the band’s Californian origins, which seems to be, above all, the mantra of the album. “The Only Place” continues in true Best Coast fashion until “Last Year”, which paints Cosentino in a more pensive light. For many fans, “Last Year” is the first major departure from older Best Coast material because Cosentino’s voice is put on display and the guitar, while riddled with fuzz, has an almost bluesy rhythm. Other tracks that will leave tried and true Best Coast fans feeling uneasy are songs like “My Life”, “Dreaming My Life Away”, and “Up All Night” because they contain elements of Best Coast but they never truly reach the right balance of summertime intimacy and lackadaisical warmth.
Listeners are going to dismiss this album as an unwelcome journey into weird territory for both their music and image but a lot of that seems to stem from a more crisp recording style. For those who find the lyrics to be lackluster, I encourage you to look at Best Coast’s older lyrics like “I went for a walk/watched the cars go by/the sun was high/I thought of you,” or “Flying over the ocean/Always makes me feel so alone” and consider what the difference really is on “The Only Place”.
Many fans are quick to blame Best Coast for their insolence because the album’s producer, Jon Brion, had a hand in classics like Kanye West’s “Late Registration” and Fiona Apple’s “Extraordinary Machine”, and some believe his involvement on the project could have only been tainted by the artist. But any blame should be shared equally because, no matter who ultimately pushed for the “new direction,” the album sounds noticeably “mature” in the same way that Blink-182 wanted to sound “mature” by appearing to take themselves more seriously. On this release, Cosentino seems more poised and responsible, which in turn deflates her image as a pot-smoking, boy-chaser.
This album is strangely polarizing. On one hand it shows Best Coast trying out new sounds with mixed results and on the other hand they are ostracized for keeping their music too simple. After a few listens it’s difficult to hate the record because Cosentino and Bruno retain their charm but overall the record doesn’t illicit the same motifs they’re known for.
Connect with Best Coast: Facebook | Twitter | Official Site
Review/Listen: Niki & The Dove - “Instinct”
Niki & The Dove, a Swedish three-piece, have put together a fantastic debut album with “Instinct”. Held together with aggressive, expansive bass synth and spare, driving drum rhythms, lead singer Malin Dahlström’s voice lends the whole affair a chamberpop sound not unlike Florence & The Machine, though if Florence had been rendered into a pixelated sprite by someone like Robyn or The Knife. (My new synthpop band is The And The; the naming scheme is just that infectious.) Album opener and second single “Tomorrow” is a perfect example of that expansiveness - the sudden, bursting chorus is hopeful, alive, and pulsating, but undercut immediately after the second iteration with a mumbling, haunting moment of doubt; perfect foreshadowing of the darker, more brooding songs on the album.
Mostly, though, tracks fall into three categories: dancing because I got dumped; dancing because I’m falling in love; and revenge fantasy, sometimes involving dancing. I don’t want to make this sound like a strike against the album, because it’s anything but. Where some artists put out albums about dancing that become banal explorations on dance positions, or just literal interpretations on the phrase “let’s dance”, Niki & The Dove never fall into that trap. The lyrics are sharp and engaging, but accessible. This is still pop music, but without the need for cliches, or at least with the ability to repackage cliches in a stimulating way. In “The Drummer”, the drum is her heart, and her heart makes her human. “The pounding of my heart / I’m a drum, I’m a drum, now / It’s what makes me human.” That’s some deep shit, packaged in a robust club banger. “Mother Protect” starts out with soaring eagles and metaphors, but really it’s about someone in a club. “Somebody” deserves a spot in every gay club next to any Kylie Minogue song.
One of the standout tracks, “DJ, Ease My Mind”, is a great breakup jam with a hint of revenge, attitude that says, “look at me now, motherfucker,” the kind of revenge that bubbles just under the skin of a lonely dancer at Depeche Mode tribute night. Effortless, excitable 80’s dance pop about forgetting loss and being blinded by lights and whatnot. There’s a pervasive sexiness brought on by the throbbing, grinding beat and Dahlström’s soaring, almost invasive vocals, a raw honesty, to each song.
“Last Night”, a slow jam that can only be described as “erotic”, stands out from some of the albums other slower and/or “love” songs - “Last night, we got married in a backseat,” Dahlström croons, and wow, I think I’m getting the vapors. The same youthful, playful sexiness throughout the album is on display, and very successfully.
Two other standout tracks are two of the more creative albums on the track, “The Fox” and “The Gentle Roar”. Both have slightly more narrative elements, telling something more of a story. “The Gentle Roar” in particular seems like a delicious piece of revenge fantasy, a driving, Bjork-esque track full of vaguely sexual metaphors that seem to be about reclaiming power and fear in the face of another woman, about becoming predatory when challenged. Both songs create broad, interesting sounds with shifting bass and synths. The guitar in “The Fox” is mesmerizing, very interesting. Album closer “Under The Bridges” dissolves halfway from soaring pop into more of a Radiohead-style slow drone-y build into ambient weirdness, fantastic, blippy closer that highlights the keyboardist and drummer. “Weird” in nothing but a complimentary way, of course.
In all, “Instinct” makes for a wonderful collection of gothy disco glitter dance music. That pile on of adjectives is no accident: there’s a lot going on beneath the now somewhat familiar synthpop aesthetic packaging. The variety is refreshing and, more importantly, the tunes are blisteringly catchy. Stream the whole thing below.
Review/Listen - Squarepusher - “Ufabulum”
To a producer like myself, an artist like Squarepusher, aka. Tom Jenkinson, is a god of sorts. He plays in the big leagues alongside artists like Aphex Twin and Venetian Snares (though some might argue that they play alongside him). His musical and technical capabilities outweigh the vast majority. He’s played his brand of glitchy, jazzy, live drum ‘n’ bass to sold-out audiences worldwide. Known for sporting a bass guitar and button-down shirt on stage, Jenkinson now dons a helmet set with LEDs in front of a large backdrop of more LEDs, programmed by himself, that react to the music.
The changes in apparel match the changes in the music: the live instrumentation of a typical Squarepusher album is gone. Completely gone. Jenkinson himself has stated: “Itâs music which is generated purely from programming. Thereâs no live guitar or drums….” It’s a very risky move for a guy who made a name for himself solely playing live jazz bass to funky drum ‘n’ bass. Thankfully, Squarepusher has been around long enough that critics and fans alike are receptive, comparing “Ufabulum” with 2001’s “Go Plastic,” which also featured a more digital, synthetic sound.
“Ufabulum” is an album of two halves (separated by the unfortunately dull, but forgivable “Red in Blue”): one generally more bright, pop-ish, and accessible (if you’re likely to call Squarepusher ‘accessible’); and the other sinister, monolithic, and disconcerting. It’s a form of A- and B-side, where the mere process of flipping the record means a turning point in musical content. This works both to the album’s advantage and disadvantage; it makes the album dynamic and changing, but also creates an imbalance within the album. Some of the ridiculously heavy, atonal, mind-numbing glitch of a track like “303 Scopem Hard” heavily offsets the uptempo, 80’s-infused sound of a song like “Stadium Ice.” Sometimes it’s hard to tell exactly what Jenkinson wanted this album to be: glitchy pop instrumentals, 8-bit throwback, or drill ‘n’ bass/breakcore extravaganza.
If there’s one thing that should be remembered while listening to “Ufabulum,” it’s that the whole thing is one big experiment. Squarepusher has traveled this territory once before, but never in such an unabashedly complex, cold, and purely electronic way. In addition, Squarepusher’s live show is more in tune with his music than ever before. In a recent interview with Electronic Musician, he said, “I’ve worked on graphical, pictorial representations of the sounds… [and] I’m allowing them to [make] analogous journeys back into the music. Say, for instance, if a drumbeat inspires a picture, will that picture then inspire a bassline?” It’s an amazing concept, one that few musicians would be able to execute in appropriate form, but Squarepusher pulls it off successfully, some of the evidence being the music video for “Dark Steering,” a standout track from the album. The end result of this melding between visual and aural is an experience where the viewer/listener is pulled into the music creation process, into the very heart of the hardware, and allowed to see the raw data presented in its most striking form.
“Ufabulum” is an album of many things, but boring it is not. Squarepusher is the conductor of a symphony of electronic madness, driven by a compulsive, mathematical appetite for experimentation. Although poorly-paced in the beginning, the second half of the album delivers in a way that no album has ever done before, with some of the greatest electronic experimentation of the last decade, supported by a musical mastermind with a wall of mathematically and musically programmed LEDs to back him up. Stream the album below, and check out Squarepusher’s Creators Project video to get an idea of just how he works.
Review/Listen - Lower Dens - “Nootropics”
The metamorphosis of Jana Hunter as a performer and lyricist is an expansive one. The Texas born musician has been working for the better part of the last decade, releasing most of it under her own name. While the “freak folk” subgenre was thrown around to categorize her particular type of howl in her earlier releases, it was her penchant for painfully honest lyrics that brought her the most attention. It wasn’t until she relocated to Baltimore and made up the musical collective Lower Dens, where she could hide behind her droning guitars, that she started to make a bigger splash in the blogosphere. After three years, Lower Dens finally found their true sound.
While their 2010 debut,”Twin-Hand Movement”, a great album in its own right, relied heavily on guitars to drive its songs, a transition has taken place on “Nootropics”, with Hunter’s voice now front and center. It’s the lead single, “Brains”, released in January, that gave the band a grander buzz than ever before, making it such a highly-anticipated release.
Classically trained as a violinist, attention to detail is both Hunter and the band’s greatest strength. Even its most quiet moments seem to speak volumes. Naturally, the album could be applauded for textures and atmosphere, but I found myself getting lost in the space, and how it was used. Take for example the track “Stem”. With brilliant use of guitar and synth, combining two of the characteristics that made their earlier work so intriguing, it is sums up the progress Lower Dens have made in just two minutes.
As far as their influences, it’s obvious that Brain Eno was a huge contributor, especially on the track “Propagation”. Its lyrics seem to ache to be understood, more so than on many other tracks, yet they remain completely contorted. The opening line - “In the mountains, under rubble…” - there’s something so desperately needing to be said that you get drawn in anyway. The same can be said about “Lamb” and “Candy”, the most light-hearted tracks on the album. Hunter reminds me of Victoria Legrand of Beach House on these tracks, especially “Lamb”, with her vocals soaring with every harmony. These middle tracks form the album’s peak, as the rest of it takes a darker turn.
In “Lion in Winter, Pt. 1 & 2”, their use of space and attention of detail is present throughout. They might be the biggest call-backs to their previous LP, with the instrumental lead in, and the thumping, nearly noisy variations later on in “Lion in Winter, Pt. 2” . The closest point of comparison is the earlier work of krautrock geniuses Can, with the repetition of the bass line as the general theme for the two songs. The richness continues with the final two tracks, “Nova Anthem” and “In the End is the Beginning”, the former being my favorite track and the latter lasting over twelve minutes. It’s the final track that is essentially three songs, with a beginning, middle, and end, contradicting its title. “At the end of the world, there’s no one waiting for you.” With the Mayan calendar and doomsday prophecies, it’s natural that a lot of it can influence the music that we hear or create. It’s what makes this such a great listen, with the strength of this song carrying out an authentic “legacy”. It’s not striving to be any more or less than what it is. It’s the realization of imminent death that brings this calmness.
Sophomore albums have a lot of pressure mounted on them. They say it takes 18 years to write your first album and 18 months to write your second one. While it took a little longer for Lower Dens to release “Nootropics”, it didn’t lose anything in the process, only gained.
Connect with Lower Dens: Facebook | Twitter | Website | Soundcloud
Spotlight Review: The Neighbourhood - “I’m Sorry…” EP
I was a little apprehensive going into my first listen of The Neighbourhood’s “I’m Sorry…” EP. I knew they could make a great track: “Sweater Weather” deserved every bit of its success, and is sitting comfortably at the top of my Tracks Of The Year list so far. “Female Robbery” didn’t quite blow me away to the same extent, but it was certainly a pleasurable listen.
So were these a couple of flashes in the pan, or a real indication of potential? Five songs is hardly enough to predict their future career, but as far as things go I’m leaning to the latter. “Sweater Weather” is the highlight - no doubt about it - but there’s not a weak track on there. Pleasingly, it showcases a diversity of influences and approach beyond what we’ve heard so far, rather than just offering up three more of the same.
The regular line that’s been trotted out is that they have a similar sound to Lana Del Rey. It’s not an entirely unjustified comment, I suppose, although I’m hardly itching to label them West Coast Gangsta Nancy Sinatra’s (out of interest, who, other than her PRs, has ever spontaneously described Lana in that way?). We don’t need another Biggie or Tupac on our hands. My problem with the comparison, though, is that it misses the point: both look to the same set of influences; any mutual similarity is incidental.
Specifically, that set of influences largely seems to be the years between 1965 and 1978, or thereabouts. Without meaning to claim a California band for my Sceptred Isle, they’re very British Invasion. I mean, the climax of “Baby Came Home”? That’s “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”, isn’t it? Sounding like The Beatles is no bad thing. Most of all, though, they remind me of The Kinks; whether it’s the twang of the guitar or the wry lyrics that does it I don’t know.
Speaking of lyrics, the other regular line has been to reference singer Jesse’s previous dabbling in hip-hop, and on this front the commentary has been on point. Rhythm is absolutely central to his delivery, and the verses are often barely melodic - particularly in their current single, “Wires”. I suspect he’s wise to steer clear of the high-notes, judging by his husky tones, but this isn’t to say he can’t sing. If there’s one thing above all that stands out about the EP, it’s the brilliant vocal hooks that spring up in the choruses.
On the production side, there are some nice touches - the obscure, distorted shout that opens “Female Robbery” is quirky without being off-putting, even if “Blue Jeans” did get there first. That said, the overall sound is fairly lo-fi. Whether that’s a deliberate aesthetic or just that it’s an unsigned band’s first effort is hard to say. I don’t think they’d lose too much soul by polishing things up a little, but equally there’s a certain endearing charm to the rough edges. The drums in particular benefit from some crunch, recalling the sound of an old 12-bit sampler.
Overall, then, “I’m Sorry…” doesn’t really put a foot wrong. At its heart are four very good tracks, and one great one. You don’t get much better than that as a debut. It’s a rather laconic statement of intent, and I find myself wondering whether the boys ever plan to up the tempo, or if they’ll insist on detached understatement indefinitely. Either way, though, I’m intrigued to find out, and what more do you want from an opening gambit? At the very least, I’m that much less nervous - and that much more excited - for their next release.
Connect with The Neighbourhood: Facebook | Twitter | Last.fm | Website | Soundcloud
Review/Listen: Father John Misty - “Fear Fun”
I’ve loved Fleet Foxes ever since I saw them perform at my college in 2008 after seeing their name plastered all-over Seattle, music websites, and the side of Easy Street Records in Queen Anne. When they took the stage, it was clear they had all undergone what’s known as a “beard pact” and each wore a flannel woolier than the last, apart from Robin Pecknold who had lost his clothes somehow and was wearing a large red raincoat. Aside from the heartiness of their sound, I was left with a strange interest in their drummer, J. Tillman, who had unleashed some of the quickest, funniest stage-banter I’d ever heard. He seemed smartly aware of the band’s up-and-coming reputation but kept his comments in the interest of entertaining his audience. “Fear Fun”, Tillman’s release under the stage-name Father John Misty, retains that smart cynicism while giving him a chance to show his diverse songwriting abilities.
Tillman paints Father John Misty to be, at his core, a devout figure of Americana and traditionalist folk through writing lyrics like, “Oh pour me another drink/And punch me in the face/You can call me Nancy,” exuding a humorous and sincere air. Father John Misty may be framed by the two genres but he combines so many different sounds that he comes across more worldly than down-home. From the start of “Fun Times In Babylon”, Tillman builds his music into a collage of stomp-claps, richly contagious melody, and speak of beasts, death, and Hollywood. Even “I’m Writing A Novel”, possibly the most straightforward homage to big-band country, is leveled by lyrics that touch on talking monkeys and Canadian shamans. Through Father John, Tillman asserts himself as a creative entity who’s seemingly on the fence of practically every genre he wields. For many artists this balancing act is nearly impossibly, but Tillman comes through song after song with combinations of sounds that are uniquely his own.
The record also highlights Father John’s plight of fame-induced sadness. On “O I Long To Feel Your Arms Around Me” he sings “Everyone’s riding on the rolling tide/Their hearts are heavy and the sea is wide/I’ll never make it to the other side, friends of mine.” Even through the illustrious music, his self-defeating lyrics add a tone of sadness within every song. Given the diverse nature of his lyrics, “Misty’s Nightmares 1& 2” could be about virtually any horrific event or idea but he chooses to sing about something more relatable. He sings, “Now I’m watching you changing the mirror/And I’m unable to move/When all my girlfriends appear in the doorway/I don’t know how they got here.” In this context, the song is darkly hilarious and honest but the lines between Father John and Tillman are blurred to such an extent that it no longer appears to be a persona.
His relationship with women seems to be an area of focus for his lyrics on songs like “Only Son of the Ladies’ Man,” where he proclaims the death of another character from Father John’s universe. In explaining the Ladies’ Man, Tillman transforms himself into an all-encompassing seedy man through lyrics like, “Saw my ancient hero on the Sunset Strip/He left behind a legacy of ruin/Now painted ladies want to hold my gun.” In this mindset, Tillman is able to express insecurities, real or not, by using fictitious characters to blend different tones together.
Tillman has been writing music for years before he started drumming for Fleet Foxes. In fact, Damien Jurado is credited for helping Tillman gain more recognition. After a handful of solo albums, Tillman has created a masterfully crafted album filled with smart lyrics, thought-provoking sentiment, and overall wonderful music. “Fear Fun” not only validates his departure from his old band but solidifies his role as a colorful and unpredictable singer-songwriter, capable of assuming a variety of genres with ease.
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[Review/Listen] - The Dandy Warhols - “This Machine”
I honestly can’t tell you how many times I’ve rocked out to “Welcome to the Monkey House”, Portland alt-rock group The Dandy Warhols’ 2003 album. It’s one of those albums that successfully bridges the gap between ‘experimental’ and ‘commercial’. I distinctly remember “We Used to Be Friends” being on every mixtape I made for anyone for over two years. The Dandy Warhols have never returned to the quality of that album (or their 2000 masterpiece “Thirteen Tales From Urban Bohemia”), but they’ve really given it their best shot.
“This Machine” sees The Dandy Warhols taking another different turn, exploring straightforward garage psychedelia with a stoner rock edge. The result is an enjoyable (if immediately forgettable) album. Perhaps the title of the album, “This Machine,” is both a nod to Woodie Guthrie and a statement of intent. The album showcases the band mostly devoid of studio trickery and electronic rambling, similar to the way conventional folk music strips the music down to its most basic message.
Many songs on “This Machine” remind me of post-punk anthems and 80s radio hits. Songs like “Enjoy Yourself” and “Rest Your Head” are quite good, capitalizing on the band’s ability to write radio-savvy mood pieces that hearken back to the era of 90’s underground hits. The album is peppered with songs like these two, which will surely become fan favorites; the rest of the album, however, is largely monotonous and forgettable. Often I enjoy entire albums more than individual songs (I’m a bit of a purist), but this is definitely one of those albums that I’d recommend purchasing singular songs from.
“This Machine” makes for a really laid-back, (moderately) consistent, and predictable listen. Nothing particular, outside of a few interesting guitar riffs, jumps out or surprises, which is both a good thing and a bad thing. The Dandy Warhols have a bad habit of promising a lot with their music, but never quite delivering the full-on rock experience. Most of their songs (especially on this album) start in one place and never change dynamically. It’s simultaneously interesting and terribly boring. Oftentimes, I found myself bobbing my head to the beat, but never being able to concentrate what was actually going on.
The album closes with “Don’t Shoot She Cried”, a pseudo-drone song of washed out, reverberating harmony; and “Slide”, a dark piece of melancholy psychedelia fueled by feedback loops and repetitious drumming. Together they form a disappointing ending to an album that needed a strong, upbeat closer.
“This Machine” is a step up from their last three albums, but The Dandy Warhols still can’t deliver in the way they used to. I’m glad to see the band stripping down their sound and returning to the roots of garage rock, but their execution is flawed. With only two or three redeeming songs, “This Machine” is rather monotonous and uninteresting as a whole. Once again, The Dandy Warhols have the concept down, but they haven’t quite nailed the content.
Connect with The Dandy Warhols: Facebook | Twitter | Official Site
[Review/Listen] - Battles - “Dross Glop”
Along comes the remix baby brother: “Dross Glop”, a compilation album based off math rock maestros Battles’ acclaimed 2011 album “Gloss Drop”. “Dross Glop” has been meticulously growing a certain level of hype with a series of 12’’ vinyls coming out this year and a killer line-up of technically superior producers behind it all. We’re talking Shabazz Palaces, Hudson Mohawke, The Field, Gang Gang Dance; everyone and their mother is on this compilation, given you’re in the scene to appreciate artists mainly for their technical ability.
“Dross Glop” features fresh renditions on each original Battles track, like a funhouse mirror image of the original album. But unlike most compilation albums, an unlikely sense of continuity is felt through the dozen tracks. Everything from the urgent and paranoid The Alchemist remix on “Futura” to the irresistibly bouncy psychedelic remix “White Electric” by Shabazz Palaces. Nothing sounds like Battles at all here, in fact, some remixes hardly sample the original track itself. Tracks like the Brian DeGraw/Gang Gang Dance remix of Battles’ single “Ice Cream”, which features something sounding like a Latin-gone-funk beat, or the “My Machines” remix by Patrick Mahoney & Dennis McNany, both have a completely different air about them. This artistic urge to stray away from the original Battles sound as much as possible was unprecedented.
But change is a good thing, right? The fault in “Dross Glop” lacks not in its agenda, one of sincere and audacious values, but in the end result. Much of the artists gave a sincere revitalization, making math rock sound a hell of a lot like progressive psychedelic dance music, but aren’t we expecting some sugary goodness? I don’t mean poppy or catchy, but what the album cover promises us. If you stare at the cover of “Gloss Drop” while listening to the original track “Ice Cream”, the correlation is immediately made; and when eyes meet with this cover, jaws drop. Fundamentally, the blueprint of “Dross Glop” should have been the original level of fun times ten. Instead, “Dross Glop” offers us a handful of inventive yet incidentally boring sonic ideas.
It stands nowhere near to the jaw-dropping creativity and the hyperactive intensity of “Gloss Drop”, but it’s interesting to see such an odd album get reworked into practically another genre, albeit less enjoyable. You need not shy away from digging your teeth into this mountain of befuddling color, just don’t expect the sugar rush you’re used to.
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[Review/Listen] - THEEsatisfaction - “awE naturalE”
Singer Catherine “Cat” Harris-White and rapper Stasia “Stas” Irons, otherwise known as THEEsatisfaction, met in 2006 while attending the University of Washington. Stas first encountered Cat while attending her open mic performances. Initially intimidated by her powerhouse performances, it took her some time to drum up the courage to to approach her, but once contact was established, the pair embarked on a partnership that would find them featured as guest performers on Shabazz Palaces’ 2011 album, “Black Up”. This collaboration led them to being signed to Sub Pop, and their debut album “awE naturalE” saw its premier March 27, 2012.
Describing their self-produced and written work as “funk-psychedelic feminista sci-fi epics”, the pair are also steeped in a healthy education of free-form jazz as well as classic soul. Originally with Cat coming from a background in jazz, funk, and house while Stas was well-versed in old skool hip hop, soul, and gospel, the pair began to date and (inevitably) share their music collection.
Echoes of the likes of Sun Ra to Alice Coltrane can be found within in the solar flow emanating from songs such as “Awe” which launches into “Bitch”,mixing hand claps and sing-along, jumprope harmonies woven together with elements of early 90s hip hop as well as a definite early 90s K Records lo-fi sensibility. Sighting influences such as Parliament and The Slits, THEEsatisfaction have a melting pot approach to songcraft that mixes indie punk D.I.Y. with fringe hip hop and psychsoul Afro-futurism.
However, there are moments when the groove seems stuck on repeat, which becomes frustrating as the potential for inventiveness is great, and you want to hear them push the envelope a little bit further. The songs have a tendency to end abruptly just when it seems as if it’s going to build up into something mind-blowing. I have a simple request for THEEsatisfaction’s future albums: make your tracks a bit longer from time to time. Sure, 16 minute tracks can be frustrating even from your favorite band, but kicking things up a notch to 5-6 minutes in order to stretch and mold the groove into something really trippy and spectacular would be amazing when coming from Cat and Stas.
“Queens” (one of the longer tracks on the album, but still only clocking in at just over three minutes) serves as an ideal example of how allowing a little bit more of a buildup lends itself perfectly to the uplifting, funkadelic party-times conveyed in the song — which has a certain Sly and the Family Stone’s - “Everyday People” joyous element surrounding it.
“Earthseed”, with its evocative descriptions of rainbow flags and burning crosses, is arguably the most overtly political track on the album. The tone of the track brings to mind the likes of Marvin Gaye and Erykah Badu, excellently building on the swell of emotions that accompany such complex subject manner. “Deeper” continues to explore the tricky business of being a lesbian of color, stating “my melanin is relevant”. It has been far too long that more LGBTQ artists have not emerged in the hip hop arena, and THEEsatisfaction aren’t afraid to address issues of race, gender, and sexuality. In addition to this, they also touch on the mystical symbolism of numerology, which is a major source of inspiration in their work.
“Crash” is a standout track with its chanting of “zero zero one one zero zero one” - that brings to mind David Bowie and Janelle Monae, then bursts out into a full spectrum of trippy Age of Aquarius funk-with-an-edge in sublime album closer, “Naturale”.
As mentioned earlier, there is a certain element found in the early work of Erykah Badu (albeit with a much more post-modern and playful sensibility) mixed with early 90s feel good fringe hip hop that keeps you wanting more. Unfortunately, “awE naturalE” just doesn’t give you more. Here’s hoping for a second helping soon, best enjoy all that’s offered for now. Stream the whole thing below.
Connect with THEEsatisfaction: Facebook | Twitter | Website | Bandcamp | Last.fm
[Review/Listen] - Death Grips - “The Money Store”
In April 2011, something remarkable and ugly was born. Three guys under the name of Death Grips left a mixtape named “Exmilitary” out for the world to experience, for free. What very well could be the start of something densely aberrant, ended up being one of the most talked about and lauded hip-hop mixtapes of the year. And so the madness begins.
There are three types of people: those who listen to Death Grips, those who don’t and those who are scared shitless by them. Following up from the extremely uncompromising and vicious “Exmilitary”, Death Grips’ latest LP “The Money Store” now tackles the task of exploring their intricate style presented on “Exmilitary”. They’re moving past the brutal straightforward sonic clashes between punk and hip hop, instead offering higher levels of artistic efforts, denser material and intense abstract fury on top of the original formula. Much like an “OK Computer” or a Tom Waits record, “The Money Store” is one of those rare releases that offer an abundance of material, sonically and conceptually, enough to equally baffle and satisfy the mind.
Unlike the structure of their past efforts, “The Money Store” comes off as more of an art series than one magnum opus. Death Grips open with the catchiest and quietest track of the album, “Get Got”, featuring qualities unseen in the band’s quality. Paired with the zaniest electronic beats and the more quieter tones of lead rapper MC Ride’s voice, the song serves as an immediate confirmation that these guys have a whole sleeve-full of tricks we haven’t even seen.
And that’s how the entire album rolls: equally impressing and daunting their audience with philosophic and sonic density. The track, “Bitch Please”, functions as a club-banger, yet emotes such loathsomeness that any notion of the nightclub scene would be left horrifically tainted after a listen. Songs like “Hacker” and “The Fever (Aye Aye)” win the award for inducing the most uncomfortable sensations of paranoia and anxiety, with elements of serial-killer-esque evil delivered in an intimate fashion (i.e. lyrics like “I’m in your area / I know the first three numbers”) that set the listener’s imagination nuts. Each track functions individually, creating different realities all under the roof of a unified agenda. All of Death Grips’ creative process and desires are purely antagonistic. Yet, the moment of applause lies not in the creepy dance the villain performs, but in its adroit craftsmanship and analytical detail.
“The Money Store” is not interested in changing genres, breathing life back into hip hop, or presenting ulterior social motives. Instead, Death Grips jumps out of hip hop’s bandwagon and runs the opposite direction, arms flailing with its hair on fire. By embracing every major negative stereotype of hip hop and making it harsher by pairing gruesome elements of industrial rock, “The Money Store” is a masterpiece for defying the limits of how grotesque art can be. If the hip hop is the impending doom many believe it to be, “The Money Store” is fucking “Apocolypse Now”.
Connect with Death Grips: Facebook | Twitter | Last.fm | SoundCloud | Website
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