Littlefoot's If You Give a Grouch a Guitar

Yeah, I couldn't find the album cover...which kind of proves my theory accurate. What theory? Why, read on! Same deal with the track list...it's alphabetical on my iPod.

What can you say about a band hopelessly overshadowed by a little cartoon dinosaur? Are we to expect a band that has no idea when to stop releasing albums, thereby killing all of the charm of the original concept with absurd proliferation? Or, more likely, will Littlefoot prove to be a band that is ungooglable and destined for obscurity? I prefer to believe the latter, which makes sense when you listen to If You Give a Grouch a Guitar. This album finds its effectiveness in the tenuous off-kilter discord, much like Homecomings’ self titled, or the even lesser known Wolves! EP. This sense of musical ambiguity probably explains why these references will be lost on most. It’s no secret that this brand of music is risky to undertake, but when it works, the risk pays out handsomely. The Mountain Goats would be a better reference, mostly for comprehension purposes, but that reference is yet to be earned.

From what I can glean from the aforementioned ungooglability and Littlefoot’s myspace blog, this is the first official long player, especially since he refers to the 37 minute disc as a “heavyweight.” Well the heavyweight kicks off with the spritely “Opener,” exhibiting heavily capoed acoustic guitar as a counterpoint to the tamely growling vocals sounding something like a young Jeff Mangum (hence the “Grouch”). The track clocks in at just over a minute, which would seemingly be a boon to this style of songcraft; but this, and the other short tracks seem to disprove that theory. “Pinchin Cheeks,” “Grass is Tall” and “Swingsets and Mountaintops” are all fabulously charming, but they could really benefit from a little more development. The crescendoing desperation of “Go to Sleep Now” and the crooning backing vocals and banjo that supplement “The Pond” about a minute into the track make all the difference – especially with the high harmony that follows about two minutes into “The Pond.” The accordion on “Oh Good!” and “Prince” with the use of Theremin (does every band have a Theremin now?) and the chiming percussion fill out the variety and strengthen the developmental aspects that keep Grouch from being forgettable. “The Numbers Divide Each Other” with its bitonal baseline proves Littlefoot to be a lo-fi force to be reckoned with. This baseline is the simplest instrumentation to get stuck in my head since Meg White’s adorable drum stick solo on De Stijl’s “Hello Operator.”

To quote Littlefoot him(them?)self, the band makes “lite music, shimmering on the surface and squishy soft at the core.” Less grouchy than advertised, the album isn’t likely to be anybody’s favorite, but for fans of early Bright Eyes aching for those pre-overproduction charms, Grouch hits just the right spot. The charm is obvious with playful melodies and outdoorsy/folksy lyrics. The album is certainly not perfect, but there is definite hope for future endeavors. In a way, it’s better to leave room for improvement so the band isn’t forced to turn to production as means of hitting new heights (I’m sorry Oberst, I really do like you). So in the end, unlike Littlefoot of Land Before Time fame, If You Give a Grouch a Guitar should leave listeners satisfied, while still hungry for the sequel.

Uninhabitable Mansions' Nature is a Taker

Track List:
1. "The Speed is Deceiving" - 3:58
2. "Big Kick" - 2:51
3. "Do You Have a Strategy" - 3:10
4. "Midnight Topography" - 4:12
5. "Maps Not Accurate" - 3:20
6. "The Brain is a Slow Wave" - 4:03
7. "Static State" - 4:37
8. "This Drift" - 3:39
9. "Ex-Explorers" - 5:31
10. "We Already Know" - 5:26

This year, for me at least, has been dominated by mediocre albums from supergroups. There was quite an enticing lead up to Clues and Monsters of Folk starting way back in 2008. I was so excited I could’ve thrown my shoes at the president. Unicorns plus Arcade Fire? Awesome. M.Ward, Conor Oberst and Jim James? Awesome! Clues’ “Perfect Fit” and the Monsters’ “Say Please” were released for free download months and months prior to their albums, and they were fantastic, but I should have known better. I’ve officially banned myself from listening to EPs of album-less bands because of all the false hopes and heartache they have put me through, lookin’ at you, Voxtrot. Now it looks like teaser tracks ought to be in the same category. Flashy Python! (Ounsworth does love his exclamation points) and The Mountain Goats + John Vanderslice were pretty equally disappointing with similar blown potential. If the Traveling Wilburys have taught us anything, it’s that genius plus genius doesn’t always equal double genius (etc.).

Sparklehorse and Dangermouse took the lead in retooling this broken formula with the first truly inspiring crossbreed of the year. Although, to be fair, I could probably release one of the year’s best albums with that lineup of supporting characters as well. Jay Ferrar and Ben Gibbard turned out a charming little indie insider record for fans of Kerouac (or fans of folksy road trip tunes), but Uninhabitable Mansions have officially raised the bar. Team ups generally yield overly compromised and underly ambitious jam sessions, but Nature is a Taker perfectly cuts Clap Your Hands’ freelance jangle with Au Revoir Simone’s upbeat, churning machinations. Of course, the true test of a supergroup is going beyond either band’s former glory and carving out a unique niche.

“Do You Have a Strategy,” “This Drift” and the closer that inspired the title seem to be the best hybrid of CYHSY and ARS, but for me, the stand-out tracks are “Maps Not Accurate” and “Big Kick.” The vocals sound roughly Ounsworth-like without that endearing squawk, and the warbling lamentations find a natural home beneath the echoing reverb of the bass drum. On its own, it’s hard to see how this track came from their collective past, but stacked up against the rest of the album, it makes perfect sense. “Big Kick” shares the high water mark in terms of innovation with that glorious guitar riff soaring above the skuzzy baseline and what seem to be the signature calamitous drums and background noise.

On the whole, Nature is a Taker certainly eclipses Au Revoir Simone’s catalogue, underrated though it is, as well as Some Loud Thunder. CYHSY’s self-titled still has it beat, but that’s like comparing apples to Persephone’s pomegranate. The fact is, at this point, with Alec Ounsworth off to explore the world, Clap Your Hands may well be a thing of the past, and that’s fine, that’s fine with me. Ounsworth’s “solo” album and now this Uninhabitable Mansions album are both head and shoulders above Some Loud Thunder and it’s hard to imagine a third Clap Your Hands album topping either of them. Prove me wrong though, guys! Even with supergroups that I really do enjoy, like The Raconteurs, I can’t help but think, “okay that was great, now let’s make a new White Stripes record, k?” Nothing of the sort even crossed my mind throughout Nature, instead, I found myself thinking, “if it’s quite alright with you guys, I’d sure like to inhabit this mansion.”

Wheat's White Ink Black Ink

Track List:

1. "H.O.T.T." - 2:27

2. "Changes Is" - 3:53

3. "My Warning Song (Everything Is Gonna Be Alright)" - 3:08

4. "El Sincero" - 2:56

5. "Living 2 Die vs. Dying 2 Live" - 3:08

6. "If Everything Falls Together" - 2:50

7. "Music is Drugs" - 4:42

8. "Coke and Tangqueray" - 0:32

9. "Mountains" - 3:42

10. "I Want Less" - 4:03

11. "Baby in My Way" - 2:07

The one time I was asked what Wheat sounds like, my reply was “kinda like Bread, but more raw,” which is an admittedly pun-based response, but it sort of makes sense if you think about it. Wheat is a band that religiously avoids structure and consequently evades being pigeonholed. The only consistent factor through five long players is inconsistency, and this can be good and bad news. Wheat prefers to exist just outside the spectrum of typical pop. They’re raw in the sense that all the pop ingredients are there, but musically, it’s an ongoing experiment with the recipe. You’ve got your hooks, your sparkling guitar riffs, insidious melodies and equally infectious chorus-heavy vocals – but it never comes together in the same way. So maybe not Bread, but think Beta Band or Menomena with the proclivity for avoiding normalcy like the Animal Collectives or Grizzly Bears of the world. They probably sound like what Wilco sounded like to Wilco in their druggier early-aught years. Confused? Good, that means you’re ready for some Wheat.

“Half of the time, it’s total darkness; half of the time, I see the light and it shines.” Couldn’t have said it better myself, Levesque. Track one hits the nail on the head. Whether you’re a Per Second kinda fan, or more of a Hope & Adams enthusiast, about half of Wheat’s material probably strikes something of a discord. There’s a palpable hyper-consciousness of the diverging styles between the atmospheric and the more grounded melancholy riff-rock. For me, 2007’s Everyday I Said a Prayer for Kathy and Make a One Inch Square struck the perfect balance between the two. They characteristically dodge predictability, and still somehow manage to make some of the catchiest songs of the year. Musically, Kathy builds out, not up. There’s no pay-off, no (seemingly) inevitable capitulation to the friendly confines of the radio-pop ditty. Instead, there are lyrical rounds, aimless crescendos, compounding (yet fleeting) rhythms, all encasing the inspiringly restrained lyrics. What Wheat lacks in accessibility, they make up for in provocative ingenuity.

So if you’re like me, a Kathy fan, White Ink Black Ink is (almost) exactly the album you’re probably hoping for. The sprawling songscapes are reined in a bit, for the most part, so the Per Second die-hards should be pleased as well. In fact, “Living 2 Die vs. Dying to Live” and “Music is Drugs” are almost, dare I say, radio-friendly? Wheat always has the ability to keep us guessing, but even I’m a little surprised to say that the biggest draw back is the repetition. There’s less of the organic sensibility that made Kathy so successful, and made Levesque’s repetitive tendencies work so well. Where Kathy tends to expand and contract, White Ink Black Ink leans more in favor of guileless expansion. “Baby in My Way” and “My Warning Song (Everything is Gonna Be Alright)” are clear cut examples of the contraction deficit. Tracks like “I Had Angels Watching Over Me” and “Little White Dove” from Kathy push the atmospheric mysticism to near breaking points, but cycle back through musically sparse vocal rounds with cunning finesse. So, in a sense it’s more of a coherent array of songs, but at the same time, it lacks that invisible hand that kept Kathy so enticingly bewildering.

In the end, if you’re waiting for some sort of return to form, this is not that. Wheat is in a state of constant conceptual evolution or flux. If there is any discernable form, then truly, Wheat has never departed. They will never be the band you rave about, but they are the band you will return to again and again when predictability is getting you down.

Freelance Whales' Weathervanes

Track List:
1. "Generator ^ First Floor" - 3:08
2. "Hannah" - 3:39
3. "Location" - 4:39
4. "Channels" - 1:20
5. "Starring" - 3:35
6. "Kilojoules" - 3:21
7. "Broken Horse" - 4:39
8. "Danse Flat" - 1:16
9. "Ghosting" - 5:20
10. "We Could Be Friends" - 4:13
11. "Vessels" - 1:42
12. "Generator ^ Second Floor" - 4:32
13. "The Great Estates" - 4:03

The good news is this album should win you over pretty quickly if you’re generally a fan of pleasant music. For me, it’s essentially a pastiche of my favorite indie pop techniques. There’s a little Postal Service or Grandaddy-esque digitized romanticism, some breathy vocals spiked with banjo that’d bring tears to Sufjan’s eyes and a bit of fun kind of like…well, “fun.” The bad news is there’s always a little danger of anonymity when unabashedly drawing on influences, as Headlights could tell you. Somehow, there needs to be a signature, something that establishes a presence. Fortunately for our heroes, there’s no lack of innovative instrumental interplay on what could have been a so two thousand and late fuzzy keyboard pop trend rehash.

It’s really hard to say whether this group is at their best when chanting along in hazy harmony as in the opener or carving out sharp melodies as in the track(s) immediately following. Luckily we have all album to figure it out. And somewhere along the way, we’ll hopefully pinpoint that signature sound; but I’m warning you, it won’t be easy.

Maybe easy is a poor choice of words, because that’s certainly part of the definition of Freelance Whales. So it might be easy, but it’s certainly not simple. Let’s start with the chanting. “Generator ^ First Floor” positively reverberates with the “native language” of…whales, I’m guessing? All I know is I’ve never wanted to sing along so badly with what should, by all rights, be a really irritating noise. Consider the combination of sodium and chloride. Alone, each chemical is deadly, deadly poison. But together they make the world’s greatest condiment. These guys have chemistry in no short supply, and it shows on the ethereal opener.

Next, we’re on to the other half of Freelance Whales. “Hannah” is the first of four consecutive pop gems that run the gambit all the way from goofball twee back towards “First Floor’s” dreampop. “Hannah’s” lyrics are well trained in the Beck (and/or) They Might Be Giants school of stream of consciousness non-sequiturs. Isolated phrases are delightfully constructed and make sense in and of themselves, but I could not for the life of me tell you what the song is about. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. “Location” is more in step with the opener, relying on the give and take between the pulsating bass and the marching percussion flowing emphatically into the chorus and dissolving away again. It’s very easy and tempting to overuse an instrument like the banjo, but the Whales don’t rely on it. It’s mainly used to underscore the melody, as it is on this track. There’s a palpable sense of artistry throughout the album which is due in large part to this restraint. You can get a similar sense of the thoughtful instrumentation on “Channels,” “Danse Flat” and “Vessels.” These one to two minute instrumental tracks are rather worthless outside the context of Weathervanes, but they do wonders for the tone of the album and the overall flow.

So how do they do it? What’s the signature? The seemingly combative concepts of atmospheric dream haze and whimsical banjo pop combine into a uniquely satisfying listen. The only track that sounds like one of the aforementioned influences outright is “Broken Horse,” from the banjo accented acoustic guitar riff awash with haunting background noises and vocals to the repetition of “God is moving in your bloodstream.” Honestly, Sufjan must be cursing himself somewhere for not thinking of this song first. Still, there is an established tie that binds this album and the essence permeates this and each of the rest of the tracks without ever seeming formulaic. In a digital age of filesharing and endless mixtapes, it’s always nice to see a band that still cares about the art of the long player.

Alec Ounsworth's Mo' Beauty

Track List:
1. "Modern Girl (...with scissors)" - 3:46
2. "Bones in the Grave" - 3:25
3. "Holy, Holy, Holy Moses (Song for New Orleans)" - 3:36
4. "That is Not My Home (after Bruegel)" - 3:57
5. "Idiots in the Rain" - 4:12
6. "South Philadelphia (Drug Days)" - 3:43
7. "What Fun." - 3:16
8. "Me and You, Watson" - 3:41
9. "Obscene Queen Bee #2" - 4:26
10. "When You've No Eyes" - 5:17

There are a few different ways to look at this album. If you take Ounsworth’s word for it, Mo’ Beauty is simply his fourth album. But the reality is a little more complicated. By his account, Some Loud Thunder was a Clap Your Hands album because that’s who happened to be around when he was working on those songs. Flashy Python or his “solo” effort shouldn’t be seen as departures from Clap Your Hands, they should just be seen as what he is up to now. As much as I’d like to, I find it a little hard to believe in the hipster idealism behind that sort of statement. CYHSY more or less became the poster boys for indie music with their self-titled, self-released debut, and that was a difficult role for the notorious fame shirker. The resentment of this status in the bombastic and deliberately under-produced Some Loud Thunder feels a little like Alex Chilton’s Third/Sister Lover. Both albums are complete combinations of brilliance and frustration with a hint of self sabotage, which could be coincidental, but logic suggests otherwise. If it was hard to imagine the self titled follow up, then it’s downright impossible to imagine Some Loud Thunder’s. So when I heard Ounsworth was releasing two albums from different projects this year, it made sense.

What is surprising to me is how much more I like Mo’ Beauty than Skin and Bones. When I heard Flashy Python was a collaboration of some of my favorite Philadelphians, The Walkmen, Dr. Dog and Man Man, I expected something a little more primal and a little less difficult. The intentions behind Mo’ Beauty are a little more unambiguous. It’s not supposed to be any sort of grand statement, just the result of Ounsworth taking some of his unreleased material to New Orleans and letting the music flow with a dozen or so local pros. The result is an unpretentious exploration of life after Clap Your Hands.

Mo’ Beauty has the sense of organic beauty that has been missing since the first Clap Your Hands record. Out of the two releases this year, this is the one that seemed destined for overextension, but instead it’s the breeziest album Ounsworth has ever made. The instrumentation is downright sparse until we get to “That is Not My Home (After Bruegel)” where he proves he knows exactly when to flex the muscle. This is the album’s best and possibly Ounsworth’s best. It’s impressive how at home his signature squawk feels in front of such an expansive band. “Modern Girl (…with scissors)” and “Bones in the Grave” are meandering blues tinged gems, but they don’t have the transcendent qualities you’d expect from this little focus group of talent. They’re excellent tracks, but honestly I found myself wondering if they wouldn’t have been better in the brutish self-released distortion. “Holy, Holy, Holy Moses (song for New Orleans)” is the first really new sounding Ounsworth track. It’s also easily the prettiest track to date (yes, including “Sunshine and Clouds”). This album is more of a typical side project than Flashy Python in the embrace of Ounsworth’s full vocal range. Essentially, if you were wondering what else Ounsworth can do besides Clap Your Hands, this is it.

The flow Ounsworth was hoping to find is certainly evident. Sometimes it’s hard to understand when a group of people record an album and stick one guy’s name on it. This time it makes sense. Ounsworth takes firm command of the helm and the band follows his still wavering but larger than ever vocal lead everywhere it goes. Mo’ Beauty indeed.