But for now we are young...

We Need a Myth: The Best tracks of 2011

2012-01-01T16:06:00.004-05:00

Disc One:

1. Bibio - "Wake Up!"
2. M83 - "Midnight City"
3. Handsome Furs - "Repatriated"
4. Junior Boys - "Itchy Fingers"
5. Active Child - "Call Me Tonight"
6. Wolf Gang - "Lions in Cages"
7. Foster the People - "Pumped Up Kicks"
8. Grouplove - "Tongue Tied"
9. The Rapture - "Miss You"
10. Architecture in Helsinki - "Contact High"
11. Rubblebucket - "Came Out of a Lady" (it's not as gross as it sounds)
12. Tune-Yards - "Bizness"
13. Thao & Mirah - "Eleven"
14. St. Vincent - "Cruel"
15. Battles (feat. Matias Aguayo) - "Ice Cream"
16. DJ Shadow (feat. Posdnous & Talib Kweli) (yeah, really) - "Stay the Course"
17. 13 & God - "Death Major"
18. Cults - "You Know What I Mean"
19. YACHT - "Shangri-La"

Disc Two:

1. Okkervil River - "We Need a Myth"
2. The Dodos - "Going Under"
3. Mates of State - "Maracas"
4. Beirut - "Santa Fe"
5. Loch Lomond - "Blood Bank"
6. David Wax Museum - "Born with a Broken Heart"
7. Middle Brother - "Middle Brother"
8. Smith Westerns - "End of the Night"
9. The Drums - "Book of Revelation"
10. The Go! Team - "The Running Range"
11. Anthony Hamilton - "Mad" (Got me some serious black envy and this track is why)
12. Girls - "Vomit"
13. The Antlers - "Every Night My Teeth are Falling Out"
14. Bon Iver - "Minnesota, WI"
15. Iron & Wine - "Walking Far From Home"
16. The Mountain Goats - "High Hawk Season"
17. The Wooden Birds - "Too Pretty to Say Please"
18. Fleet Foxes - "Helplessness Blues"

***The following hyperlinks are intended only for those who have purchased all of these songs and not for public sharing without the express written consent of the artists and/or their mothers. I want to be very explicit about that. Let it be on YOUR head if you "pirate" this mix.****

Disc One: http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?ug2hn7rb1n6ri7r
Disc Two: http://www.mediafire.com/download.php?tvvt22sv5yh79qz

2011-06-15T16:52:00.000-04:00

More tales from real life

2011-04-15T16:32:00.002-04:00

Me: *reading in hallway at school*
Woman: *sitting across from me and pushing same button on phone with volume up over and over again for several minutes*
Me: *series of eye rolls and audible sighing*
Woman: *adds mouth generated laser noises into the mix*
Me: Are you kidding me?
Woman: Whaa?
Me: Could you switch your phone to silent, please?
Woman: My phone don't have that.
Me: I'll bet you a thousand dollars I can silence that phone.
Woman: I don't wanchu tuchin ma PHONE.
Me: You're probably right.

Fun with bigotry

2011-01-08T14:53:00.002-05:00

Customer: Christmas Blend still, huh?
Lombard: Yeah, we're gonna have to start calling in Valentine's Blend.
Carolyn: Or Martin Luther King, Jr. Blend.
Me: Black and bold with a shot in it?

The most puzzling thing is that the customer neither looked entertained nor offended. Clearly you should be one, probably both.

Kismit

2010-12-29T17:17:00.003-05:00

So every morning at Starbucks, we cut out newspaper stuff for customers to stare at instead of staring at us. This morning I found a cartoon word bubble, and decided it would be funny to stick it on to a picture, and this picture seemed like a winner. The guy with the word bubble is the President/Owner/something of Paetec, and the guy at the podium is Mayor Duffy. Now, I don't really know anything/care about local politics, and this certainly wasn't commentary. I just thought the guy looked kinda bored.

WOULDN'T THAT FREAKING GUY WALK INTO STARBUCKS?

I wasn't on the floor at the time, but according to Mikey, the guy held up the clipboard and said "Well, I wasn't expecting this." Not angry at all, just genuinely surprised and a little amused. I couldn't have planned it better.

A customer interaction for the ages.

2010-11-15T14:58:00.001-05:00

Lady Customer: Is there any dairy in the butter croissant?
Me: *blank stare*
Lady: I know there's butter, my mom can have butter, just not milk.
Me: Well...it's real butter, so there is milk.
Lady: Can you go check the packaging for me to see if it says "milk" in the ingredients, dear?
Me: Of course. *Goes into the back to tell Joe this mindblowing tale.*
A few minutes later..
Me: Yes, it does say milk in the ingredients.
Lady: Do you have any pastries without milk?
Me: They all have milk, I checked them all to make sure.

Michael Leonhart & the Avramina 7's Seahorse & the Storyteller

2010-06-29T16:08:00.003-04:00

Rating: 56

Track List:
1. Seahorse and the Storyteller
2. Have You Met Martina?
3. Scopolamine
4. Gold Fever
5. The Story of Echo Lake
6. Dr. Killjoy
7. Jaipur
8. Madhouse Mumbai
9. Dreams of an Aquarian
10. Avramina Comes Up from the Deep
11. Shh… They’re Sleeping
12. Here Comes the Dragonfish

The fact that I chose to review this album is something of an ironic coincidence. Just like Michael Leonhart and his Avramina 7, it turns out I dove in head first a little too quickly without really knowing what I was getting myself into. Usually I do a little more research before committing to review the work of a band, but for whatever reason, watching the video for “Dreams of an Aquarian” was all the convincing I needed. Little did I know, this was not just any old band with some new record dropping, far from it. Michael Leonhart has an absurdly impressive resume with bands he has either performed with or produced. Feel free to check out his website for a more extensive list, but be impressed and even tickled by this brief taste: A Tribe Called Quest, Bobby McFerrin, Bonnie Raitt, Brian Eno, Busta Rhymes, David Byrne, Foreigner, James Brown, Lenny Kravitz, Michael McDonald, Mos Def, Natalie Merchant, Raekwon, Sharon Jones & the Dapkings, Slash, Steven Tyler, Todd Rundgren, and Wynton Marsalis. Wow.

In my defense, I had every reason to totally dig “Dreams of an Aquarian.” Just like one of his many collaborators, Sharon_Jones_&_the_Dapkings, I was thoroughly excited by Leonhart’s apparent continuation of the re-funkification of these United States. (The very fact that Microsoft Works doesn’t recognize “funkification” should be proof enough of our dire straits.) I’ve never really understood why funk has all but disappeared from the modern rolodex of musical genres. I might be too young to complain about the lack of soul in modern music, but hey, even old people are right from time to time. I could hardly offer up an argument against this man’s musical merits (did you see that list?), but it seems to me that front-man should be removed from his list of accomplishments. This whole scenario reminds me of one of my favorite musical jokes. What’s the last thing the drummer said to his band? “Hey guys, let’s play some of my stuff.” I don’t think anybody’s making the case that you don’t need drummers (except maybe The Decemberists), the point is, basically, know your role.

Most of Leonhart’s solo career is significantly less funky, and from what I can tell, largely forgettable. Sadly, this seems to be the case for Seahorse and the Storyteller as well. The LP is something of a concept album; while not every song is specifically nautically themed, most are. Starting off with the title track, I was still excited with my selection. They sound sort of like a funkier Super Furry Animals replete with Leonhart’s Gruff vocals. The wandering bass and horn flares are most enjoyable -- not a bad start. But directly following is possibly the most annoying track on the disc, “Have You Met Martina?” I can just see these guys on stage introducing the band in typical fashion with this track as the puzzlingly overextended finale. Like most of this album, that performance seems like it would be infinitely more entertaining live.

Musically, it’s pretty solid as you might guess, it’s mostly the lyrics and vocal melodies that run this ship aground. “The Story of Echo Lake” and “Dreams of an Aquarian” are definite highlights, not only as the best tracks but also as essentially the only tracks that break the mold cast by the rest of the album. “Echo Lake” is less funky and more dreamlike in accordance with Leonhart’s back catalogue, it’s also easily the best chorus and the least forcibly aquatic material. “Dreams” stands out as the best vocal effort, but it’s sadly lacking in the funk department.

If they had abandoned the nautical theme, the album probably would have benefited. As it stands, by the time we get to “Here Comes the Dragonfish,” I’m so thoroughly sick of it all that I can hardly stand to finish. While I praise the Avramina 7 for their contribution to the funk revival, it’s difficult to find much else worthy of praising. If you like goofball jam bands, then this crew might just float your boat, but for me, I’d rather listen to the Spongebob theme a dozen times.

Parlovr's S/T

2010-06-29T16:04:00.000-04:00

Rating: 86

Track List:
1. Pen to the Paper
2. Sandwalking
3. On the Phone
4. Hiccup!
5. Sever My Ties
6. Speech Bubble/Thought Cloud
7. In Your House
8. Archy & Mehitabel
9. Sleeping Horses
10. Palace of Identical Things
11. All the World is All That is the Case

Officially this album dropped back in 2008 in a self-released version, and from what I can tell from some rather extensive internet cruising, Dine Alone Records’ version is little more than a re-branding. Parlovr’s brand of self described “sloppy pop” is right at home as a DIY manifestation, but really, there aren’t any production flaws to speak of, so why bother re-recording? It’s certainly not what I’d describe as clean production, but clearly, that’s not really what this three-piece was shooting for. It seems like the only thing they really are shooting for is their own identity separate from their Montreal brethren. There are certainly some overlapping tendencies with bands like Arcade Fire, Stars, Islands/The Unicorns, Plants and Animals and Wolf Parade, or Broken Social Scene (Toronto), but they only come through in brief flashes. There’s the totally bonkers drumming and shout-singing from Arcade Fire, the mutilated pop brilliance of Nick Thorburn, the brushes with epic like Stars, the quick change hard and soft dynamics like BSS or Plants and Animals, and the thoroughly fascinating duality between the two lead vocalists like Wolf Parade. The thing is, once you think you’ve got their dynamic figured out, they’re onto something new. Let’s just hope Alex Cooper doesn’t split the vote with his own little Sunset Rubdown.

The band name Parlovr, while looking like the vanity plate of a golf enthusiast, is actually pronounced parlour (or parlor if you‘re from ‘mer’ca). The only real defense of this bit of trickeration I can think of is looks can be deceiving. This act makes one hell of a lot more noise than you might think possible of a three-piece, and despite the lack of bass, the treble really never gets too overwhelming. Basically, whatever you think you know about Parlovr, you’re wrong (they insist).

Don’t believe me? Give the sonic boom that starts off “Pen to the Paper” and the album a listen, bearing in mind it’s just two guitars and drums. It’s some big, big noise, but unlike BSS or Arcade Fire, they don’t need a band member count in the double digits to pull it off. They’re incredibly basic on paper, but their sonic sleight of hand is more than a little bewildering. “Sandwalking” slows down the momentum a little and legitimately sounds like a three-piece making it feel like Parlovr’s finding a nitche , but two minutes in has the boys busting out of that tidy little box with some grooving drumming and vocal squawks that make “Crown of Love” seem amateurish. But it’s not all about shirking normalcy for Parlovr. “On the Phone” with it’s tinkling xylophone and charming “oohs” and “Hiccup!” with it’s hooking riff chugging along throughout make pretty good candidates for pop songs. But again, “Sever My Ties” comes along and blows everything you think about the first four tracks right out of the water with downright daffy energy. And then here we go again, our boys throw us for yet another loop with the acoustic guitar and totally 80s keys carrying us through six minutes of the really smart examination of the sometimes disparaging distance between words and feelings in relationships in “Speech Bubble/Thought Cloud,” easily the standout track of the LP.

If nothing else, Parlovr proves their erratic tendencies aren’t so much a lack of focus as it is an exhibition of a plethora of good ideas. It might seem like a band struggling to carve out their own unique slice of the Montreal scene, but really, that struggle is their slice. In some ways, these guys represent bits and pieces of all of what makes the Montreal scene so exciting, but in more ways, Parlovr is doing what nobody else is. There’s no point in wondering whether the group is coming or going, when after these eleven tracks, it’s clear Parlovr is here to stay.

Rafter's Animal Feelings

2010-06-29T16:01:00.002-04:00

Rating: 89

Track List:
1. No Fucking Around
2. A Frame
3. Timeless Form, Formless Time
4. Fruit
5. Feels Good
6. Animal Feelings
7. Paper
8. Never Gonna Die
9. Only You
10. Love Makes You Happy
11. Beauty, Beauty

To quote the venerable MrFukhed’s musing on Rafter’s YouTube video for “Paper,” “i bet theres gonna be a bunch of indie fucks swingin from the balls of this group.” As an indie fuck, I can attest to the categorical truth of this statement. Animal Feelings is the album I’ve been waiting for since Hot Chip’s The Warning. I feel I’ve failed in a major way since this review is the first I’ve heard of the work of Mr. Rafter Roberts; at least, it’s the first time I’ve been made aware of his presence. Setting up his own studio, Singing Serpent, with Glen Galloway required an exchange of manual labor for recording time with (this abridged list courtesy of Asthmatic Kitty) Fiery Furnaces, Black Heart Procession, Sufjan Stevens, Hot Snakes, Castanets, Gogogo Airheart, Rocket From The Crypt, Liz Janes, Arab on Radar, The Rapture, The Album Leaf, Bedroom Walls, Kill Me Tomorrow, Tristeza, The Peppermints, Rogue Wave, Tarantula Hawk, Maquiladora, Aspects of Physics, Upsilon Acrux, Howard Hello. So yes, I’ve certainly heard his work.

For those of you as shamefully ignorant as I, the good news is there really couldn’t be a better jumping off point into the world of Rafter than Animal Feelings. Like Animal Collective, working backwards through his catalogue ought to increase your appreciation of his earlier, more difficult material... although I do sometimes tell first-timers to give Spirit They’re Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished a listen just so I can chuckle to myself. Rafter’s Music for Total Chickens is roughly equivalent to Pullhair, Rubeye in terms of blind ambition, but less dizzying. Rafter has always had his finger to the pulse of pop, which keeps his music a little more grounded, and Animal Feelings is the testament to that fact. As much as I love a good bout of indie-cred one-upmanship, at the end of the day, nothing sets these toes to tapping like a quality pop song.

For those of you admirably less ignorant than I, this LP might strike you as something of a curveball. Actually, to stay true to the baseball metaphor, it’s more like a fastball when you’re digging in for that knuckler. Right from the stretch, “No Fucking Around” comes straight down the middle--it’s the high heat, the stinky cheese; but enough of the baseball references. Literally, Rafter is flat out telling us there will be no fucking around with sampling snippets of improvised chaos and piecing together of randomized over-thoughts (not that there’s anything wrong with that). Previously Rafter made music for the mind, now he’s making it explicitly for the hips. The softly cooed verses meet up with beats and talk-boxing fresh enough to keep the hardest of rappers gan’sta, but it never feels tongue in cheek. “A-Frame” keeps us moving bringing in some playfully funky guitar licks and the always welcome baritone sax. “Timeless Form, Formless Time” has our hero succeeding in his mission of making adorable pop music that is completely un-lame. If that wasn’t close enough to pop perfection, “Fruit” unquestionably seals the deal. This is the song/album Nick Thorburn would make if he could only focus.

The real strength of this album is how tastefully the production brings the funk but tactfully pulls punches, never allowing the cowbells, handclaps, bari sax, talk-boxing and myriad other accentuations get tired. “Feels Good” in the middle is the perfectly timed slow-jam to soothe the almost certain dance-induced heat stroke of the absolutely unstoppable first half. Now everyone should know why Rafter is Asthmatic Kitty’s favorite producer. MrFukhed, to you I say, you could not be more right. This disc is my (and surely others of my ilk) wet dream. If there was some slide whistle and possibly some laser noises, I think I probably would have dancegasmed to death.

The Dead Weather's Sea of Cowards

2010-06-29T15:59:00.003-04:00

Rating: 86

Track List:
1. Blue Blood Blues
2. Hustle and Cuss
3. The Difference Between Us
4. I’m Mad
5. Die By The Drop
6. I Can’t Hear You
7. Gasoline
8. No Horse
9. Looking At The Invisible Man
10. Jawbreaker
11. Old Mary

Jack White and I go back a long way, about nine years to be exact. My sophomore year in high school was the year I befriended my musical mentor, and the Stripes’ White Blood Cells was one of the first albums I truly fell in love with. My love was and is so thorough that getting my hands on every piece of Jack’s diverse repertoire was simply not enough. I found it necessary to indelibly etch a peppermint swirl on my now favorite patch of skin, my only tattoo to date. Since my induction, I went on to enjoy not only five more White Stripes LPs, but also The Go’s Whatcha Doin’?, both Raconteurs LPs, every Upholsterers’ and Goober & the Peas (yeah, that’s right) track I could find, Loretta Lynn’s Van Lear Rose and even his forays into film including Cold Mountain and Coffee & Cigarettes. So imagine my surprise when I heard of yet another project, The Dead Weather. Like his shtick of staying in the back of The Raconteurs’ press photos, Jack allegedly plays a background role as he returns to his original instrument, the drums. Although really, it seems a lot more like everybody’s playing everything. And let’s be honest, who else could possibly be responsible for “all the white girls trip when I sing at Sunday service?”

The Dead Weather are a supergroup in every sense of the term, excepting the implication of laziness (lookin’ at you, Monsters of Folk). Alison Mosshart (The Kills) took the lion’s share of vocal duties on the debut but on this LP it is sometimes impossible to tell who’s singing. In addition to vocals, Mosshart splits guitar work with Jacks White and Lawrence (The Raconteurs) and lastly we have Dean Fertita (Queens of the Stone Age) on damn near everything, but mostly bass and synth. The key difference between The Dead Weather and The Raconteurs is the energy. Don’t get me wrong, I have little bad to say about The Raconteurs, but it certainly falls more into the overly comfortable lazy trappings that ensnare so many less-than-supergroups. Most similar to The Kills, The Dead Weather kicks out dirty, grungy, Detroit rock city throwback jams that should make veterans like MC5 or Iggy & the Stooges stand and salute. Naturally, Horehound caught my and most critics attention, but Sea of Cowards should quell any doubts of this group’s verity.

If there’s any real difference between Horehound and Sea of Cowards, it’s that the former had more obvious singles like “I Cut Like a Buffalo” and “Treat Me Like Your Mother.” This album’s lack of standouts speaks more to its consistency than really being a drawback. The Dead Weather just feel more defined as opposed to sounding like talented musicians from different bands. Second albums are make or break, and Sea of Cowards is proof enough that The Dead Weather are very much alive. But it’s more than consistency, it’s authenticity. This music is not about singles, it’s about gut shaking guitar solos and bass so thick you have to look around for the nearest toilet. It really seems like there is a tactical absence of the glorious propensity for hooks or choruses or anything that might water this music down. At this point, Mosshart and White have done enough to establish their legitimacy, this project is just the opportunity they both needed to really sound off. It really must be nice to be so genuinely badass that recording a jam session this self-indulgent can produce such effortless brilliance. Jack has never been one to labor over his recordings, usually banging them out in a week or two, but it’s never sloppy. How can you not love that?

Black Bug's S/T

2010-06-29T15:55:00.003-04:00

Rating: 82

Track List:

1. Razor Face

2. Well Well

3. Run

4. Mental Ray

5. Inside Out

6. The Wave

7. I’ve Got Eyes

8. Unicorn

9. Billy Montana

10. S.R.A.

11. Beating Your Heart Out

12. Untergang

13. Make Her

14. Fall in Love With

15. Absorbing Hearts

When I recommended the chick punk outfit Vivian Girls to my girlfriend, her insightfully pithy reply was “does punk even exist anymore?” Aside from reaffirming my admiration, this question really made me think. For such an inherently anti-label label as punk, what does it really mean to be “punk” in this day and age? Thinking about this conundrum from a different perspective, it’s pretty comparable to modern art. In the heyday of punk, or say, the Dadaist art movement, there was legitimate potential for a counter-culture to develop. But now it’s 2010 and pretty much anything that can arguably be considered culture has been countered. Although really, waxing philosophical is probably altogether the wrong approach to punk. So on to the subject at hand, Black Bug’s debut. Whether you call it punk, post-punk, post-post-punk, or art punk (as I see it), the resulting LP is pretty compelling. To me, pure punk is a group’s utter lack of encumbrance with the popular hang-ups like what their particular brand of noise sounds like or how it is received. In short, this is not that.

My vote is for art-punk for little more reason than the artfully poor production. The pointedly crass disposition of the album feels a little frenetic at first pass, but seamless transitions are not always the best course to successful album flow. Especially when considering the tracks closer to the borderline of unpleasantness, the latent benefits of the construction of the album come to bear. The buzz saw quality of the synth on tracks like “Unicorn” and “Beating Your Heart Out” would be pretty unbearable without the mercurial deviations between each track. “Mental Ray” at a little over two minutes is as long as any of these little studies in the dark side of melody lasts. The whole album clocks in under half an hour, showcasing this Swedish duo’s impressive grasp of the fundamentals of not only punk, but entertainment in general. Don’t wear out your welcome (right, Ian Curtis?) and always leave the audience wanting more.

Officially, the duo is comprised of synth and drums, but it really sounds more like a drum and bass duo along the lines of Death From Above 1979, or maybe they’re more like The Mates of States’ evil twins. Lily’s synth is just as versatile as Kori Gardner’s keys, just with a penchant for malice and destruction. From droning along in hazy exaltation, as in “Fell in Love With,” to the comparatively sprightly cadence of “The Wave,” Lily spins what could easily be depressing into truly fascinating. The erratic synth and the curious about faces like the most decidedly post-punk track “Inside Out” stuck between two of the album’s (dare I say charming?) instrumentals is enough to keep this band out of the muck and mire from whence they emerged.

As much praise as I can heap on this engagingly compact LP, it’s certainly not for everyone. For starters, be prepared for the tragically less hip (and probably better adjusted) rightfully shouting at you to turn that racket down. There really aren’t any standout tracks to be readily dog-eared, it’s really more about the experience. The upside is, it’s not just noise for the sake of noise. So go ahead, wear that disdain like a badge of honor – because if you can put forth the necessary effort that this LP deserves, you deserve it.

People like weeds

2010-05-10T13:20:00.002-04:00

Weeds, in this country at least, are illegal. Nowhere can you buy dandelion seeds. In fact, we take calculated measures to eliminate and prevent these plants that just go spreading their seed willy-nilly. The very plant we refer to as "weed" is illegal. Legally, you can't buy it, you can't grow it, you can't ingest it. And yet, there are people who behave exactly like these purportedly despicable plants; spreading their seed all over the place despite the fact that nobody asked for it -- nobody wants them to, they just do. It's perfectly legal. See when it's people behaving this way, we reward them with television contracts like 19 & Counting or Jersey Shore. I'm not saying we should necessarily take the same course of action on these people as we do weeds. What I am saying is that, if these people are legally allowed to exist and even thrive, then so to should weed. And believe me, I'm really not picky about which way we go with that legislation.

Pete vs. technology

2010-05-10T13:14:00.002-04:00

I can tell this is going to be unpopular, but I'll say it anyway. I hate all these camera phone, mp3, email, internet things. They're referred to as phones, but you can't really just call it a phone. That's like calling my oven a hand-burner. While truly, it is that, it also does other things. I admit it might be cool to have all these things in one place, but that's not really what you get. It's more like your phone is a bad impressionist. But I do like having all these great memories right in my pocket. Let me just scroll through a few here...there was the halloween my niece dressed as...yellow. Yeah, like a blurry yellow, I guess. Oh, that concert I went to that was...um, dark. Yep, I won't forget that night.

Adultery and other fun things

2010-05-10T13:03:00.002-04:00

Adultery. I'll tell you what the problem with adultery is. There's no fear in the word "adultery." Man slaughter, aggravated assault, reckless endangerment, these are frightening terms. Even minor crimes like trespassing and loitering sound worse than they are thanks to the hyperbolic labels.

It's got to be something so terrible sounding that a person is embarrassed to have it associated with them. But apparently, cheating on your spouse is the very epitome of adulthood.

Criminal mischief, that's always been a personal favorite. But I think to be charged with criminal mischief you have to have a curly mustache and a cape.

*Note: the following event is purely hypothetical

But I got busted the other day. Yep. Illegal drugs. But really, it's my fault. The sign at the entrance to the park clearly stated "illegal drugs prohibited." Oh, if only I had read the sign! Then I would have known my illegal drugs were illegal. Why not "rape prohibited." "Also, no murdering." "Racketeering hitherto forboden!"

Tired of reviews? How 'bout some jokes!

2010-05-10T12:54:00.002-04:00

I've never been asked to do stand-up, nor have I pursued this dream in anyway; but nevertheless, I've got some jokes. Ideally, I'd like to tell these jokes in some sort of venue with or without compensation. Until such an opportunity falls into my lap (which is apparently what it's going to take), I will use the universally agreed upon media for unwanted idea sharing. So music blog, you are now a whatever-crap-is-in-my-brain blog. Congratulations on the upgrade.

Men are dogs:
Women are always calling men dogs, but you don't really believe that. Now, I am in no way denying the verity of this comparison, all I ask is that if we are in fact dogs, then treat us like dogs. Yesterday my dog made it very clear that he wanted to go out, but my girlfriend told him, "not now, I'm not in the mood!"

What do you do if your dog does something wrong? You take him by the collar and show him exactly what he did wrong. If you just randomly smack him on the nose and say "if you don't know what you did wrong, then I'm not telling you" he'll probably behave. He will. But I guarantee he's humping the next leg through that door.

Minus the Bear's OMNI

2010-05-07T11:23:00.002-04:00

Rating: 62

1. My Time - 4:05
2. Summer Angel - 4:45
3. Secret Country - 5:31
4. Hold Me Down - 4:08
5. Excuses - 4:38
6. The Thief - 4:33
7. Into the Mirror - 5:11
8. Animal Backwards - 4:16
9. Dayglow Vista Rd. - 5:10
10. Fooled by the Night - 7:23

My first impression of OMNI is that, if you’re new to the world of Minus the Bear, this should not be your first impression. Now to qualify, that statement sounds more negative than it really is. When I think back to my first impression of MtB, I recall emotions of frustration and annoyance. I was annoyed, not with the material, but with the labels. Minus the Bear is a pretty stupid band name, but it’s nothing compared to the impossibly stupid track names from their debut, Highly Refined Pirates. So why all the nonsense? Well in time, and after catching them live at a hole-in-the-wall bar in Philly, I came to develop a theory. It could have just been immaturity, but I like to think of it as fundamentalist hipster elitism. Think about it, what better way could there be to repel notoriety? It’s not quite as extreme as naming your band Starfucker or Shit and Shine, but the results are similarly off-putting.

“Hey, this song is pretty good. What’s it called?”

“Monkey!!! Knife!!! Fight!!!”

Taking the glass as half full, the moral of the story is this: for Minus the Bear, it’s all about the music. Just ignore the fact that the song is called “Hey, Wanna Throw Up?” and enjoy it for what it is. Since that first show, I’ve seen these guys live three more times – once for every album before OMNI. Pirates is still my favorite album, but the more material they have, the more I enjoyed each successive performance. Some bands like Spoon or The Shins are definitely more enjoyable in the studio, but bands like Minus the Bear should be judged by performance. So true, OMNI is not the best first impression, but it certainly makes me want to get back out to a live show.

Lyrically, there’s never been much to talk about. The first words on the first track of their first album are “and then we all bought yachts,” if you can’t take my word for it. Poetry, it is not, but sonically, OMNI hits new heights. “My Time” takes the ever present synth hooks from a supporting role into the foreground while the guitar plays the role of foil. Joe Chiccarelli’s grammy winning experience with The White Stripes and My Morning Jacket lends some of the cleanest production Minus the Bear has exhibited, which goes along way to elucidating the intricate layering of their music. “Secret Country” with its thick bass line and sparkling guitar solo are so much the better for it. Unfortunately, the problem is that, although “My Time” and the first single “Into the Mirror” certainly raise the stakes, the rest of the album more or less craps out. The songs have pretty much always been about how hard/softly Minus the Bear is going to do some ladies, but for the first time, it really starts to get obnoxious. “Should I find you’re not around, I would surely chase you down and lure you in with a lonely sound. Then I’ll have you.” It’s just lazy.

In all my years of listening to Minus the Bear, I’ve never found myself longing for more concise production. It was the messy, hectic chaos of Pirates that I found so captivating, and that made it so easy to really just get lost in the music. On OMNI, it’s damned difficult to forget about what is inherently annoying about Minus the Bear. Even still, as annoyed as I am with tracks like “Summer Angel,” the chorus is still so musically stimulating that I can’t help singing along and even enjoying it. I never thought I’d be the one to say this, but what we need is more jamming and less songwriting. I think I just threw up in my mouth.

Go see them live, please.

Battlehooch's Self-Titled

2010-05-07T11:17:00.001-04:00

Rating: 74

Track List:

1. Only Baby Sharks
2. Human Ram
3. Somersaults
4. Ringtone
5. Caliphate
6. Red Tide
7. Battlehooch
8. Honest

When I was on the eighth grade junior varsity football team, I had a coach that, no matter how badly we were playing, insisted we just needed to play with a little more heart. Up until now, I just thought he was a remarkably unhelpful leader; but now that I’ve listened to some Battlehooch, I’m beginning to understand what he meant. Their homemade debut Piecechow is, at most, thirty percent talent – the rest is all heart. Somewhere between “Fishmilk” and “Fishmilkery,” I suddenly know what it means to give 110 percent. “Looks You Can’t See” is by far the high note of the disc, but for the most part, they’re working with pretty mediocre material. There’s nothing exceptionally inventive about their music, but it’s so much fun that it really doesn’t matter. They’re like a more accessible Need New Body, which is to say, they’re like an accessible Need New Body.

With the kind of energy these guys exhibit, I wouldn’t be surprised if Piecechow was laid down in one take. This year’s self-titled full length isn’t going to do much to change my perception of San Francisco being one of the freakiest cities in the country, but it should certainly alter the perception of Battlehooch. This album feels much more rehearsed without severing all of the crazy spastic energy that makes the act worthwhile, and makes me really want to go to a live show. Anybody can make one dancy, spazz rocky, art punky album, but most fizzle out pretty quickly after. Need New Body, !!!, Feral Children, MGMT, The Unicorns, The Rapture, Bloc Party… to name a few. Battlehooch seems to be a rare case of rapid productivity working in their favor. When you’re making a fire and you get a spark, sometimes it’s best to protect it from wind and rain and feed it slowly until it develops into a flame. Then again, sometimes you’ve just gotta blow on those embers until you faint.

Unlike a fledgling fire, this album is remarkably consistent. In a lot of ways, Battlehooch’s biggest accomplishment here is leaving well enough alone. I have little doubt that stretching this album to a more conventional eleven or twelve tracks would entail the use of filler material. Behold the glory of self-production. There aren’t really any stand-outs like “Looks” from Piecechow, but from the salaciously bawdy “Human Ram” to the carousing chantey inspired “Red Tide,” there really aren’t any low points either. “Somersaults” really challenges the talent to heart ratio with breathtaking new heights of musicality. The relentless minstrelization of San Fran street corners has clearly ratcheted up the skill level of this new school jam band. You can catch flashes of revamped 60s drug rock in the same breath as ultra-modern Man Man minded experimentation. Influences can be questionably recognized or hypothesized about, but really, they’re mostly irrelevant. To say that Battlehooch marches to a different beat is an understatement, and frankly, more hackneyed a statement than they deserve.

Even in the recorded format, these guys really know how to put on a show. It’s a rare treat these days to find an earnestly “indie” band. Most of the time the term “indie” carries about as much veritable weight as “hipster.” The terms aren’t meaningless, quite the contrary in fact. These types of terms have too many meanings to too many people. But then you come across some fabulously mustachioed diamonds in the rough like Battlehooch and it just reminds you exactly what it is you like about “indie” music. I’m not going to pretend they’re one of my favorite bands now, but almost equally impressively, Battlehooch has made me question the qualifications of those sacred bands in the V.I.P. section of my heart. Street cred is not just for rappers anymore.

The Whigs' In the Dark

2010-04-23T20:13:00.003-04:00

Rating: 46

Track List

1. Hundred / Million

2. Black Lotus

3. Kill Me Carolyne

4. Someone’s Daughter

5. So Lonely

6. Dying

7. I Don’t Even Care About the One I Love

8. Automatic

9. I Am For Real

10. In the Dark

11. Naked

Sometimes missing the start of a band’s career can be a good thing. Tuning in around 2002 worked out pretty well for me and The Mountain Goats. Sometimes it allows the listener to breeze through earlier struggles and development and get straight to the band in its prime. Unfortunately for The Whigs and I, In the Dark is not an ideal jumping off point. For The Whigs, all of the excitement was in the early years of raw energy that regularly sold out shows in hometown Atlanta. Their first two albums captured that energy pretty well and were enthusiastically received by most critics. But, in 2008, The Whigs toured with Kings of Leon in support of KoL’s Only By the Night which turned out to be something of a ghost of Christmas future situation for The Whigs. Early acclaim and big venues opening for U2 turned the Kings’ enterprising Youth & Young Manhood into overblown arena ready rockers without the personality. Two years later, it seems The Whigs have accepted the torch passed from the Kings. In the Dark is not just overproduced, it’s processed and pasteurized. It’s studio cheese.

Coming in three albums deep, as I have, The Whigs’ catalogue feels scattered. “Technology” and “Half the World Away” helped earn the 2005 Whigs Rolling Stone’s nomination as "perhaps the best unsigned band in America." But it’s hard to remember that charming, quirky rock band when all of their best ideas are lost In the Dark. Earlier tracks feel infused with the influences of too many rock groups to list, but the erratic flow of the music keeps it interesting and even becomes distinctive in its own way. Just like Kings of Leon, the rough edges have been traded in for streamlined rock riffs and overly indulgent production. It’s hard to tell whether The Whigs’ career bears more resemblance to the Kings’ or Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, but really, it’s an age-old story. Money, a little notoriety, and some fancy studio tricks have led many to stray. I’m pretty sure that’s what happened to Zack Attack on Saved By the Bell. We can only hope that it won’t take a racecar accident to bring The Whigs to their senses.

To be fair, it’s not all bad… just mostly. “Hundred/Million,” the opener, makes it seem just for a minute that this latest effort will be a sharp, stronger version of earlier work. Unfortunately this is about as good as it gets. You have to believe even Nickelback is scoffing at the snarlingly overblown choruses of tracks like “Someone’s Daughter,” “Kill Me Carolyne” and “I Don’t Even Care About the One I Love.” Even criticizing those three tracks seems a little arbitrary when the problems are pretty universal on In the Dark. The more you listen to this album, the more it all homogenizes. “Dying” is about that only attempt at something beyond generic rockers, but it’s basically an extended crescendoing chorus that just serves to emphasize the faults of this entire recording.

Now that I think about it, this was probably a great place to start listening to The Whigs. Even the first two albums, though certainly entertaining, are hardly groundbreaking. There was some definite potential but it all needed a lot of work. It might just be the parting of Hank Sullivant that sent The Whigs in this direction, but either way it amounts to blown potential. Had I been a fan of the back catalogue, this album might have come as quite a blow. To listen to all three at once is to realize that The Whigs are, at best, a flash in the pan. If anything, I feel validated in my previous ignorance, and can rest assured that Rolling Stone is still usually wrong about stuff.

She & Him's Volume Two

2010-04-23T20:08:00.002-04:00

Track List:

1. Thieves

2. In the Sun

3. Don’t Look Back

4. Ridin’ in My Car

5. Lingering Still

6. Me and You

7. Gonna Get Along Without You Now

8. Home

9. I’m Gonna Make it Better

10. Sing

11. Over it Over Again

12. Brand New Shoes

13. If You Can’t Sleep

Rating: 75

It really doesn’t seem fair that Zooey Deschanel should be talented as an actress, singer, songwriter and musician, but I’m afraid that seems to be the case. As much as I enjoy seeing smugness met with failure, She & Him doesn’t seem like it will be the project that does it to Zooey. When I heard about Volume One coming together, I was definitely hoping for a little more Him and a little less She, but it was hard to be upset with the outcome. It certainly borders on hokey, but there’s enough personality to pull it off. M. Ward’s work, mostly behind the scenes, certainly helps lend more credibility and accessibility to her work as compared to, say, If All the Stars Were Pretty Babies. Deschanel doesn’t necessarily have the greatest range, so Ward kept it interesting with fervent string arrangements, especially on “Sweet Darlin’,” and plenty of backing Zooeys to fill out the sound. When it works, it really works, but all of the tracks on Volume One walked a fine line between timeless and dated. The real standouts like “Why Do You Let Me Stay Here?” and “This is Not a Test” feel familiar like you’ve always known them, and with the three covers, it’s easy to wonder exactly where you’ve heard the other tracks before. The best tracks are really easy to love, the problem is, the rest are easier to forget.

Volume One made it clear that the “Him” in the band name didn’t refer to M. Ward, but to the protagonist of Zooey’s ongoing love story. The closer, “When I Get to the Border,” was more along the lines of what I was expecting going in, but She is something of a natural lead. The debut never really felt like an M. Ward album, and Volume Two continues in very much the same vein. Part of the reason the music is so comfortable is the flair Zooey has for picking covers. She really makes Volume Two’s “Ridin’ in My Car” and “Gonna Get Along Without You Now” her own. The line between hokey and endearing is never as blurry as the “uh-huhs” and “mm hmms” of the chorus on “Get Along.” It’s off-putting initially, but you just can’t help loving it. The only time the gang really crosses the hokey line is “Sing” with its unshakable resemblance to the song at the end of Elf. For the most part though, Volume Two is every bit the follow up the title implies.

“Thieves,” the elegant opener features a much more luxurious sound than Volume One offered. Ward never lets the strings overwhelm Zooey or weigh the track down. “In the Sun” and “Don’t Look Back” offer similar evidence to the production’s effectiveness to endow Zooey’s indomitable sprightliness with enough intrigue to keep it from feeling obnoxious. Somewhere between the muted guitar and the flashes of surf rock, Ward has retrofit his guitar playing to perfectly complement Zooey’s vintage sensibilities. “Lingering Still” demonstrates all of these elements that makes this act so convincing when it comes together just right. The Feist-y quiver in her voice through the chorus cuts through the mandolin and doo-wah accompaniment. Ward’s harmony on the chorus adds the perfect foil which is really what makes the whole thing work. So it’s still not necessarily the duet I was picturing in the beginning, but the division of labor has produced some pretty compelling results.

It might just be the fact that this is the second album from this act, but it really feels like there is more of an identifiable sound to the band. It feels more like She & Him the band than Zooey and friends like Volume One. The music is more natural and relevant without ever coming off as dated. “I’m Gonna Make it Better” is definitely the most exciting instrumental accomplishment from this group, but Zooey is still the star. Like his understated guitar solo on “Make it Better,” Ward’s ability to take these tracks to the next level without ever stealing Deschanel’s thunder is really the story of this album. For me, the Him will always refer to Ward.

A Weather's Everyday Balloons

2010-03-30T16:43:00.002-04:00

Track List:

1. Third of Life

2. Winded

3. Ducks in a Row

4. Seven Blankets

5. Midday Moon

6. Newfallen

7. No Big Hope

8. Fond

9. Happiness

10. Giant Stairs

11. Lay Me Down

Rating: 89

It would take too long to get into what I love about the Seinfeld reference A Weather has made with the title of their sophomore effort, Everyday Balloons. But if you’re even familiar with the show (and if you’re not, I’m kind of impressed) then you know the sort of understated brilliance that made the show so popular. Yada, yada, yada, long story short: you don’t need a plot to make a sitcom, and you definitely don’t need a special occasion for balloons. Combine that reference with the supple veneer of A Weather’s arrangements and it’s easy to think of their music as mellow. But this deceptively simple cover hides an infinitely more intricate book than judgment might indicate. In fact, even if you give Everyday Balloons a few casual listens, it may still seem no more than mellow bedroom rock. The truly amazing thing about this album is that, if you really listen, and even crank it up a bit louder than seems necessary, Everyday Balloons takes on a much more anthemic austere. This album plays equally well softly dribbling from your earbuds as it does streaming out of open car windows in the early spring. That kind of duality implies a certain depth to the music that lends itself to heavy rotation on the playlist, the essence of an anthem. To put it another way, you might consider busting out the old discman (ask your parents) for a while and give the iPod a rest.

Cove, in 2008, proved to the world that this previously albumless band deserved every bit of that Bright Eyes opening slot in 2007 and job with his label Team Love. Cove reminded us that slow doesn’t have to mean sad. Nothing about their sound is forced which is really saying something considering the genres in which they’re dabbling. They never try too hard like Stars or Snow Patrol, despite the vocal similarities between Aaron Gerber and Gary Lightbody. They never feel too heavy like The National, though they do try on “Seven Blankets.” They don’t get overly cutesy like The Brunettes or The Ditty Bops, although I’ve heard the alternate album title for Balloons was 1,001 Adorable Similes. All this praise they earned with a debut. With the follow-up, they take a big step towards becoming reference points of the genre like Belle and Sebastian or Iron & Wine.

“Third of Life” starts us off here on Balloons with, if not their best, then at least the most aggressive track on record. It’s aggressive musically, but vocally it’s a really charmingly folksy duet about a couple generally coming to terms with life and love. This is one of the tracks you’re going to need to turn up. Somehow Adam Selzer’s production (Re: M. Ward, The Decemberists) gives the crackling reverb that brings the song to a close a certain delicacy. In a lot of ways, “Third of Life” is reminiscent of Wilco or Yo La Tengo’s spacier distortions, especially when it comes to the meshing of soft and loud. It might be comparatively aggressive, but it’s still rather subtle. The playful little piano bridge into “Winded” and the mantra-like chorus “all that I need is to steadily breathe in and let it out slowly” brings us back to the lighter side of A Weather which is equally important to the duality of the music. The vocals are breathy as ever, but there’s less of a Lightbody feel to Gerber’s voice. The softness feels more genuine, less like stylized whispering. Sarah Winchester’s voice blends with Gerber’s so well that it’s like watching a movie where you know the male and female leads will wind up together. They’re sort of a backwards Mates of State with Winchester on drums, but the chemistry is the same.

“Seven Blankets” is by no means aggressive, but it’s even more ambitious than “Third of Life.” “Third’s” six minutes and 23 seconds feel shorter because of the transitional construction of the song as it expands, and the same is true of “Blanket’s” five and a half minutes. The line between keys and guitar is blurred throughout the album, but especially here. The slow burning melody timed off by what sounds like the dinning of a church bell gives way to more lush instrumentation with a line that pretty well sums up the feeling of the track (or album really): “Just before the pipes froze, I ran the faucet and filled the tub.” Aside from eloquently capturing the essence of their sound, this line is also pretty exemplary of the comfortably domestic metaphors that color their sound so deftly. “Midday Moon” and “Newfallen” demonstrate this theme with lines like “You once were a dish sponge, now you clean tiles in the bathroom where sponges go to die” and “Oh, how fun that we get to be alive at the same time.” On paper, it’s hard to get past how silly it is, but they just work.

“Winded” and “No Big Hope” portray the hot and cold tendencies of A Weather. Whether anthemic or anti-anthemic, the bittersweet lyrics mainly revolve around aging and regrets. The beauty of this album is in the pacing. The tracks flow effortlessly into one another and have the ability to console while they depress. “Midday Moon” feels like Winchester alone with a piano, while tracks like “Third of Life” can feel like there are about a dozen people in the room. Cove fit more comfortably into the chamber pop category, but Everyday Balloons really tests the limits. It’s smart, sweet and soulful without being hackneyed or self-indulgent. These aren’t party balloons, they’re everyday balloons.

Rogue Wave's Permalight

2010-03-04T12:11:00.002-05:00

Track List:
1. Solitary Gun
2. Good Morning (The Future)
3. Sleepwalker
4. Stars and Stripes
5. Permalight
6. Fear Itself
7. Right With You
8. We Will Make a Song Destroy
9. I’ll Never Leave You
10. Per Anger
11. You Have Boarded
12. All That Remains

Rating: 66

The first Austin Powers movie was brilliant. The problem was with the next two unwatchable sequels. So how do we go from comedic gold to Goldmember? Essentially, the movie was based on a notebook full of Mike Myers’ musings, so to think a sequel could replicate that kind of magic was pretty stupid. This is why (indirectly) I have been such an unfaltering fan of Rogue Wave. It seems unlikely that any album they put out will top Out of the Shadows. The album that evoked such well struck Shins comparisons (especially as both label and tourmates) did so through rather unique methods. The album was laid down by Zach Rogue in New York and colored in by a band slapped together back in Rogue’s homestate, California, with a little help from the internet. These terms of Out of the Shadows’ conception adorned the album with the ambrosial resplendence of the west coast delivered with the sardonic bent of a despondent New Yorker. It was magical. Thankfully, Descended Like Vultures, the debut for the group as a whole, didn’t go the Austin Powers’ route of regurgitated genius. Instead, Rogue Wave evolved as a group along the blueprint laid out by the debut. The comparison is similar to what Built to Spill is doing now versus Ultimate Alternative Wavers or There’s Nothing Wrong With Love. The heart is the same, but the execution and ornamentation have come a long way.

Permalight, on the other hand, seems to exist in a realm separate from the established storyline. I won’t call it a new page, mostly because I’m hoping it’s just an outlier, but I also hesitate given the circumstances that inspired this reinvention of their sound. The past two years have brought Rogue (and Wave) misery in the form of the tragic death of former band mate Evan Farrell as well as a tour halting injury. A couple of slipped disks in Rogue’s back caused temporary paralysis of his hand. The sheer irony of a guitar player losing sensation in his hand is enough to make the stiffest lipped believe in God, and not in the good way. Rather than wallowing, Rogue took the returned use of his extremities as a gift and decided to make an album in celebration.

That said, part of me really feels like a jerk for not liking the album more. Rogue compared picking up the guitar again to the first time he picked it up, and that youthful energy really does come across, but it’s just a little…well, sophomoric. I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume the abiding injury has stymied the normally intricate guitar playing. After all, Asleep at Heaven’s Gate did get a little heavy, so maybe a dance break is just what we needed? Well now I’m probably being too nice instead of too mean. This is the problem with having a bias.

Let’s look at this objectively. Rogue Wave’s best quality has always been the sense of intimacy. Out of the Shadows is the most raw form of intimacy, but even then it was a little elusive. What Rogue Wave succeeded in doing in their two subsequent records was expanding the framework of the band as they became more familiar with one another and burying the intimacy under layers of vocal harmony and sensationally bombastic production without ever letting the elusive intimacy die completely. Permalight is actually significantly lighter in its production compared to the last two, but the spotlight has shifted from the songwriting to the beats. Weird. “Fear Itself,” “Right With You” and “I’ll Never Leave You” are really the only tracks that feel like vintage Rogue Wave. “I’ll Never Leave You” is head and shoulders above the rest of the tracks in its ability to break your heart and make you smile all at once. Still though, these tracks are inversions of the slippery minor chord tracks like “Seasick on Land” and “Are You On My Side” that were so evocative in that Nick Drake kind of way. Then when you take the almost painfully cheerful tracks like “Per Anger” (ironically), “Stars and Stripes” or “Good Morning (The Future)” it just gets a little tiresome. I’m not saying I dislike any of these tracks, “Good Morning” is particularly addictive, but for the wrong reasons.

I don’t want to wish sadness on somebody I have so much respect and admiration for, but it sure does make a better muse. I guess something so intensely personal really can’t be judged unless you’ve had a similar experience, but the whole new lease on life thing really just doesn’t do it for me. I’ve never really been that close to death, but I am more or less aware of the tenuousness of life. People who insist on appreciating every moment are either hypocritical or downright annoying. Rogue Wave went from making some of their most provocative and slow burning tracks to cranking out pop ditties – they’re really good at it, but it’s just so beneath them.

Broken Bells' Self-Titled

2010-03-03T07:43:00.002-05:00

Track List:
1. The High Road
2. Vaporize
3. Your Head Is on Fire
4. The Ghost Inside
5. Sailing to Nowhere
6. Trap Doors
7. Citizen
8. October
9. Mongrel Heart
10. The Mall and Misery

Rating : 72

So here we go again – another sad case of idealism versus reality. At some point I suppose I’ll have to deal with the fact that The Shins are Gone for Good, but for now, I’ll play the part of the jilted child. The reality is that mom and dad have called it quits, a clear cut case of irreconcilable differences. Last year James Mercer announced that The Shins’ drummer and keyboardist left the band on good terms for what he called “aesthetic reasons.” In an interview with The Portland Mercury, Jesse Sandoval reported that “I unequivocally got fired.” Whatever the circumstances surrounding the disbanding, the damage is done. Wincing the Night Away made it clear enough that the days of the basement folk jams are over, so really there’s no surprise. And in the end, what better step father could we ask for than Dangermouse, or Brian Burton as he is billed for the Broken Bells.

It’s easy to say this is a new chapter in Mercer’s story, but really, how can we help but stack this new effort against the towering greatness of Chutes Too Narrow and Oh, Inverted World? Again, as Wincing suggests, Mercer seems to be taking a page from Nick Thorburn’s playbook and embracing the dark side. Broken Bells can also be seen as an extension of the two Mercer tracks from Dark Night of the Soul, without the David Lynch vibe. Even after several listens, I’m still conflicted. Part of me is inspired by the greatness of these two stars aligning, while the other (bigger) part is flabbergasted by the tremendous waste of talent. In a recent best albums of the aughts poll, I placed Chutes in the top slot. Few artists can demonstrate the naturally effortless aggregation of music, lyrics and vocals as Mercer and company achieved on the first two Shins’ albums. When Wincing dropped in ’06, my immediate reaction was anger. I felt cheated after waiting three years for a follow up to what was, in essence, pop perfection. I am still unable to reconcile my expectations following Chutes. What was I hoping for? How does one follow perfection? Should they have pulled a Seinfeld and gone out on top, or would the right play have been to keep on the same track and seemingly hopelessly attempt to harness the lightning the possessed for a third strike? Logic dictates the impossibility of such a feat, but maybe The Shins were destined to be The Beatles of indie folk. We’ll never know for sure.

Putting the past aside as best I can, the Broken Bells have put together a fairly solid debut, but the long view is less optimistic. Mercer sticks with the forty-ish minute run time that has served him so well, but that’s about as far as the similarities go. Not to undercut his craft, I’ll assume the responsibility of not seeing the forest for the trees; but it seems like the tracks are less story oriented than The Shins’. What really gets me about Chutes are the captivating narratives that tug ever so plangently at the heartstrings. My biggest complaint about Broken Bells (other than they’re not The Shins, which really isn’t fair) is the near complete sublimation of Mercer’s genius. “When our kite lines first crossed, we tied them into knots. To finally fly apart, we had to cut them off. Since then it’s been a book you read in reverse, so you understand less as the pages turn, or a movie so crass and awkwardly cast that even I could be the star.” That is a snippet of “Pink Bullets” that haunts me to this day. It’s pure poetry. From what I can comprehend of the Broken Bells’ lyrics, it’s mostly a collection of life lessons without the keen narrative structure that bound the earlier volumes of Mercer’s repertoire. The deficit of enunciation derives mainly from Mercer’s lack luster delivery rather than Inverted’s grainy production that poses similar comprehension issues.

All that said, I really don’t dislike the album. As mentioned, it’s simply a case of idealism versus reality. Where this Broken Bells album succeeds is not to be ignored. I am convinced that there is hope for life after The Shins. The debut may have its share of problems, but the problems are almost exclusively due to the two reputations that precede the band. What it lacks is the sense of grandeur I expected, and that I still feel the music really needs. “October” and “The High Road” are the best tracks offered because they demonstrate a middle ground that surpasses Mercer’s and Burton’s collective pasts. The instrumentation is simply gorgeous and all the more impressive for the fact that the duo is entirely responsible for its synthesis, save Daniele Luppi’s string arrangements. “October” feels like the closest link to the old days of the narrative while still expanding the concepts awkwardly attempted on Wincing. In a lot of ways, this album feels like the last album Mercer tried to make with The Shins; Burton helps him achieve the aesthetic he sought, if you will. “Vaporize,” too, opens in the comfortable confines of Mercer’s vocals over an acoustic guitar, but takes it to the next level proving his voice lends equally well to organ and synth backdrops. If anything, less familiar territory, as in “Your Head is On Fire” and “Sailing to Nowhere” is underexplored. This is where it really feels like a larger sense of grandeur would have helped. If we’re breaking new ground, it needs to be more firmly established. As these tracks are, they’re a bit too elusive with no real climax. All I ask if pressed to endure post-Shins Mercer is to believe that he believes, but I’m just not convinced.

This is a link to the Sandoval interview referenced in the first paragraph:

http://www.portlandmercury.com/portland/nothing-is-permanent/Content?oid=1554912

Zeus' Say Us

2010-03-03T07:36:00.002-05:00

Track List:
1. How Does It Feel?
2. Fever of the Time
3. Kindergarten
4. The Renegade
5. Greater Times on the Wayside
6. River by the Garden
7. You Gotta Tell'er
8. I Know
9. Marching Through Your Head
10. The Sound of You
11. Heavy on Me
12. At the Risk of Repeating

Rating: 75

Here’s the thing about Zeus. The concept is great; king of the gods, ruler of Mount Olympus, all powerful slinger of lightning bolts – can’t miss, right? But in reality (or mythology) he’s some crazy son of a cannibal father who uses his allegedly boundless powers primarily to transmogrify into various animals and seduce women. It’s sort of like finding a genie in a lamp and wishing for a sandwich, a Coke and a refill. Why not wish for unlimited food and drink? Why transform into an animal to get with human ladies? It’s a truly baffling misuse of talent, entertaining though it may be. In this regard, Zeus is a pretty fitting name for the band formerly known as Paso Mino. Stepping out from behind Broken Social Scene’s Jason Collett (when can we expect BSS to formerly present him?), Mike O’Brien and Carlin Nicholson demonstrate all of the rudimentary necessities to follow and even one-up fellow British invasion roots rockers Dr. Dog, The Zutons, or the less British Delta Spirit. The heart-breaking reality falls short of the potential as the lightning they sling is less striking than it ought to be.

In typical indie rocker fashion, Zeus denies any attempt towards creating roots rock, claiming their debut, Say Us, is just them doing what they do. But really, nobody could achieve a better crossbreed of The Beatles and Kinks if the were trying. O’Brien and Nicholson split vocal and songwriting duties and even harmonize in a spot on Lennon/McCarthy impression. The noteworthy addition of piano, and its bouncing riffs, since their Paso Mino days really embodies the Kinks’ vibe. All that said, there is nothing about this album I dislike other than being slightly underwhelming. Overall, it’s better than The Zutons’ or Dr. Dog’s debut, and damn close to Delta Sprit’s. What’s missing are the standout tracks, like The Zutons’ “Pressure Point” or Delta Spirit’s “People C’mon.”

At first pass, the impression I came away with was sort of a confused disappointment. There is an unfulfilled yearning left in the wake of these eleven tracks, and for a while, I just couldn’t put my finger on it. Initially I assumed the problem was a lack of variety because I really had trouble recalling specific moments or tracks that I liked, or even disliked for that matter. But now I’ve identified the main source of disappointment. What should have been the best tracks fall flat because there’s just so little life in the vocals. “Greater Times on the Wayside,” the short intro to “River by the Garden,” comes in like a breath of fresh air in all of its McCartney-esque “Oh, Darling” glory. The first three tracks would have been significantly stronger with this sort of aching vigor, but they come off more Julian Casablancas.

With the exception of “I Know,” tracks four through eight are the definitive peak of the album. “River by the Garden” and “You Gotta Tell’er” are surely the standout tracks, but mostly in terms of style rather than quality. “River” glides along on a very low-key finger-plunked walking guitar riff which is notably sparse by comparison, especially to the crunching “You Gotta Tell’er” sounding much more like 70s Doors or Zeppelin than 60s Brit-pop. The qualitative stand out come two tracks later in the form of “Marching Through Your Head” where we can use the term “vocal range” for the first time, and sadly, the last. It’s got that intoxicating swing that makes me really want to like “Kindergarten” the best, but it’s just got more star quality.

I can’t speak authoritatively on this next point, but if Dr. Dog and Of Montreal have taught me anything, and if you can believe what you read online, it’s that these songs almost surely take on a whole new dimension live. It took about five albums for Dr. Dog and Of Montreal to really take hold of the energy they possessed in live performance and translate it to the studio. Now, I’m not predicting any sort of radical transformation like Of Montreal has undergone (is undergoing), but it’s certainly a much different role to shift from backing band to the band. If this review seemed hard on the boys, it’s only because I see such huge potential.

The Watson Twins' Talking to You, Talking to Me

2010-03-03T07:29:00.003-05:00

Track List:
1. Modern Man
2. Harpeth River
3. Forever Me
4. Midnight
5. Savin’ You
6. Brave One
7. Devil in You
8. Snow Canyons
9. Tell Me Why
10. Calling Out
11. Give Me a Chance
12. U-N-Me

Rating: 69

Whenever The Watson Twins come up in the course of discussion or music browsing, I always find myself thinking “aren’t they that group from the sixties?” Something about twin sisters singing country songs just feels very… Johnny Cash. Something from back when music was a sort of novelty treat you paid a nickel to see at the local theater. Then I remember seeing their name in support of Jenny Lewis. Now, Jenny Lewis has essentially been dead to me since Rilo Kiley left Saddle Creek and killed whatever love I had left with More Adventurous and Under the Blacklight. Well it might also have had something to do with those Monsters of Folk (if only it was always Ben Gibbard instead of Jim James) stopping by to lend some support. Or then again it might have been because it was the most interesting option to review, but whatever the reason, I gave Southern Manners a listen as well as Fire Songs and Rabbit Fur Coat (with Jenny Lewis). And the whole time I couldn’t help but think “aren’t they that group from the sixties?”

Rabbit Fur Coat was really close to being a great album, if only the material was better. The production and the backing presence of The Watson Twins were gorgeous, and Jenny really knows how to work a stage (even if it is just a soundstage). The album was certainly not without its charms, it just lacked the acerbic lyricism that made the first two Rilo Kiley records so successful. Southern Manners and Fire Songs had similar issues. The beauty of the sisterly harmonies just felt sort of vacuous without much of any lyrical or musical intrigue. The lifeless cover of “Just Like Heaven” pretty well summarizes the groups’ need for a little more dimension.

Maybe it’s the result of playing and touring together for a few years, or maybe it’s a case of aptly responding to just criticism; but right out of the gates on Talking to You, Talking to Me with “Modern Man” it’s clear that the band has stepped up. On Fire Songs the backing band seemed to melt into the crooning harmonies and vice versa, which was not entirely unpleasant, just a little tiring when it’s the featured songwriting technique. This new burst of energy in the band seems to have also imbued the Twins with a little sass and gotten them in touch with their inner diva. I can’t wait until Jack White covers “Harpeth River,” and I mean that as a Loretta Lynn or Dolly Parton comparison more than The White Stripes. This soulfulness is also the result of the Twins using their combined harmony as more of a tool as in the verses of “Harpeth River” that flow emphatically between solo and double duty adding just the right amount of punch. Also pitching in with that punch are the awakened organ on “Harpeth River” and especially on “The Devil in You” and “Midnight” where it presents a brilliant counterpoint to the vocal melody. The way “Midnight’s” surprisingly show-stopping organ solo feeds so naturally into the equally impressive “Savin’ You” speaks to more than just a heightened sense of purpose vocally and instrumentally.

There’s a much less ambiguous sense of construction to this album both holistically and inherent to each track. Talking to You, Talking To Me is an improvement in every aspect of the music, but still I hesitate to call this The Watson Twins’ breakout album. They still pretty quickly revert into the overly cutesy twee drenched “Tell Me Why” and the painfully underdeveloped “Snow Canyons” and “Calling Out.” I’m much more comfortable calling this their break-in album, gaining them access to the same stratosphere as your KT Tunstalls and Joss Stones. It’s a solid album, to be sure, but I’d really like to see them achieve a more distinguishable sound on par with the first half of this album. The next Watson Twins record should be very telling.

Hot Chip's One Life Stand

2010-02-09T17:10:00.002-05:00

Track List:
1. Thieves in the Night (6:09)
2. Hand Me Down Your Love (4:33)
3. I Feel Better (4:41)
4. One Life Stand (5:24)
5. Brothers (4:21)
6. Slush (6:29)
7. Alley Cats (5:21)
8. We Have Love (4:28)
9. Keep Quiet (4:02)
10. Take it In (4:10)

Rating: 63

Hot Chip Listener’s Log

Day 1: Oh man, this is terrible. Do I really like these guys? Ugh, chipmunk diva? Are we really still doing that? I didn’t even like that effect five years ago when it was fashionable. I bet Pitchfork is eating this crap up with a spoon though. I knew Made in the Dark was overrated, I really need to listen to that again.

Day 2: Well, Made in the Dark still sounds pretty good. I guess I’ll give One Life Stand another chance. I mean, it’s not like it’s all terrible. “Thieves in the Night” is fairly rad and I guess the title track is pretty good too. But I don’t know…

Day 5: “My friend once told me something so right, he said to be careful of thieves in the ni-ight, woa-oah.” “Nothing is wasted and life is worth living, heaven is nowhere just look to the stars.” Man I LOVE THIS CRAP!

Day 6: Okay, I’m over it.

Well, like most Hot Chip albums, this one started out as some of the dumbest crap I’ve ever

heard before somehow weaseling its way into my heart. Coming on Strong never quite made it

over the hump, but The Warning and Made in the Dark had significantly less hearty scoffs and guffaws to cut through. There was an unprecedented jump in both style and appeal between Hot Chip’s first two records. Logically speaking, their latest would have made a lot more sense as the follow up to their debut. It’s not just that The Warning and Made in the Dark are better albums, they’re just different. As IYS reported last year, in Hot Chip’s own words, "we're stepping things down a bit because we want to make this next album quite simple, gentle, focused." It’s not my favorite decision, but I guess I can respect that. It’s not unlike Animal Collective’s shift between Strawberry Jam and Merriwether Post Pavillion or Band of Horses’ more focused Cease to Begin following their brilliantly boisterous Everything All the Time. Putting all your eggs in one basket can certainly pay off, as for those two groups, but sometimes you just wind up with egg on your face.

This album sort of strikes me in the same regard as the Beastie Boys’ puzzlingly instrumental album, The Mix-Up. I don’t know who leveled this challenge, but the Boys apparently felt the need to defend the fact that they do, in fact know how to play instruments. And it’s not that I don’t buy Hot Chip as soulful, but that’s just one of the elements that makes these guys so wonderful. I’m pretty sure nobody was thinking, “yeah, these guys are pretty good, but I wonder what they’d sound like without all of that glorious dance music in the way.” But then again, the Beastie Boys won a Grammy for their answer to the question nobody asked, so what do I know?

Maybe it’s a little more like Wilco deciding to only appeal to the forty plus crowd. I’m not saying I don’t like any of their Sky Blue Sky or Wilco (The Album) songs, they’re just tragically unambitious. One Life Stand seems to fall into the now typical second half slump like their last two albums. “Slush” and “Alley Cats” aren’t bad songs, they’re just really typical pop songs, especially with obvious lines like “now that we’re older, there’s more that we must do” and “there is no pain I haven’t felt.” Taylor and Goddard’s voices still blend as beautifully as ever, and the vocal arpeggio of “Slush” is awkwardly endearing in true Hot Chip fashion, but there’s not much more to it than that. It’s a step up from the now laughably sparse Coming on Strong, but I’ve come to expect soulful dance ballads. Without the dance, it’s just not that interesting.

If you were especially fond of “In the Privacy of Our Love” and “Whistle for Will,” then you’ll likely love this album, but for me the highlights are almost exclusively in the first four tracks. If anything, the album is overly earnest without being nearly as grin inducing as tracks like “Arrest Yourself” and “Wrestlers.” Even stupid lines like “I’m only going to heaven if it tastes like caramel” seem to land better when delivered awash with tasty beats. I can already tell this is one of those issues I’m going to be relatively alone on, like Wolf Parade was better than Sunset Rubdown and Jens Lekman is terrible, but sometimes I just have to take a stand. Also, End of the Night would have been a much better album title.

Citay's Dream Get Together

2010-02-09T17:05:00.002-05:00

Track List:
1. Careful With That Hat
2. Return From Silence
3. Dream Get Together
4. Secret Breakfast
5. Mirror Kisses
6. Hunter
7. Fortunate Sun
8. Tugboat

For about four years now Citay have been a revolving door of San Francisco talent; something of a commune, if you will. Rather than listing the myriad bands connected to Citay, suffice it to say, these guys get around. As it turns out, free love isn’t just a great way to spread STDs, it’s also a great formula for prog rock. On the first pass, it’s easy to label these guys as a freak-folk jam band, which is not entirely untrue. That is certainly the overwhelming effect of the finished product, but the execution is far more mathematical than spontaneous. Ezra Feinberg, the man behind the beaded curtain, is very meticulous in his arrangements which can at times feel almost techno-like (re: Ratatat). But this feeling only comes off in flashes after repeat listens. To the average listener, Citay offers crisp, breezy Californicated prog, and nobody sees the man behind the curtain, not no way, not no how.

Citay’s first two long players felt very much like extended jam sessions; if you’re not paying attention (or if you’re paying too much attention) it’s easy to miss the track breaks. Lyrics are essentially an afterthought, and are, at times, as easy to miss as the breaks. (Wait were there words in there, or just “woos?”) Essentially, the guitars do the talking. This is where Dream Get Together really breaks form. The title apparently refers to the stoner conversation on Citay.net leading up to the release wherein various heady rockers lay out their ideal band or musical experience (you can almost hear the coughing). Apparently, this concept was the inspiration for the album. I have no idea what the implications are for this album, but it seems to imply that we’re in for some more self indulgence.

Jam bands aren’t exactly my cup of tea, and I offer up Citay in defense of this taste. Jam bands are like the golf of music. It’s a lot of fun to be one of the players, but you really have to be into it to enjoy being a spectator or to even understand the various nuances and techniques. Coincidentally, miniature jams are also much more fun for everyone. So perhaps Citay keeping the concept of the perfect band in mind explains why there seems to be more focus here than previously. The first two albums start off pretty strong, but it’s pretty difficult to make it all the way through. It’s not that they’re objectively bad, it’s just all been done – several decades ago – and better, to boot.

The latest effort kicks off with “Careful With That Hat,” easily the most exciting track Citay has laid down. The group stays mostly true to form in that the music is still the focus as they layer on the jams here and on “Fortunate Son.” The title track and the Galaxie 500 cover “Tugboat,” on the other hand, seem to function much more like standard pop songs, focusing around the lyrics and clocking in around four minutes. Then we have “Mirror Kisses” which seems to split the difference. With a little help from Tune-Yards’ Merrill Garbus, Feinberg actually showcases a little subtlety. This track positively oozes with laidback groove, the exact attitude Citay has been trying to convince us of all along. Even the instrumental tracks “Secret Breakfast” and “Hunter” have kicked it up a notch. There’s more personality to the music as “Hunter” feeds off the ice cold brilliance of “Mirror Kisses” and exaggerates it with echoing drums and shimmering synth that positively swings for the fences. J. Mascis and Josh Pollock answer in time with show stopping solos that really demonstrate the effectiveness of Citay’s grandeur.

So jam band, no. That just doesn’t do justice to what Feinberg has contrived with his costal compadres. It was obvious all along, but it seems the band has finally started to move past their Dead Head tendencies and shoved off in their own direction. I choose to believe this is the reasoning for the ticky tack Citay balloon soaring away from the California coast on the album’s cover. Citay is off to bigger and better things.

Feral Children's Brand New Blood

2010-01-27T11:02:00.002-05:00

Track List:
1. "Kid Origami" - 4:14
2. "Castrato" - 4:27
3. "Group Home" - 5:01
4. "Rivers of Forever" - 4:17
5. "On a Frozen Beach" - 4:04
6. "Conveyor" - 4:49
7. "Universe Design" - 3:53
8. "Inside the Night" - 3:35
9. "Woodland Mutts" - 3:00
10. "Enchanted Parkway" - 2:48

As the new millennium presses on (are we really into double digits already?) it’s only getting harder and harder to make a splash on the indie music scene. It almost seems like you have to be a brilliantly reclusive musicologist like Andrew Bird or Beirut or just complete weirdoes like Animal Collective to really make a name for yourself. Then again, you can always just tack on some extra musicians like Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene or Polyphonic Spree. The latter solution might just be what the Feral Children need. Their debut was at its best at the apex of the spittle spewing mosh ready cock-rock, so why not just take a page out of Andrew W.K.’s playbook and add some more guitar? I mean, they’ve already got two drummers, if you’re gonna do something, do it right. It worked for fellow pacific rockers Built to spill – I’m not expecting that level of musicianship, just a little more throttle. Let’s be honest, we’re not coming back for the moving lyrics or melodies, and that’s not a strike against them. “Spy/Glass House,” the debut’s opener, flirts with full blown metal but doesn’t quite get there, and that’s exactly where the Feral Children should live. But, I guess that level of domestication would go against their very nature.

It’s no wonder these guys draw comparisons to groups like Built to Spill and Modest Mouse, reproducing that post-grunge west coast sound was essentially their mission statement. I’m not asking for them to pick a genre, I just want them to keep up the intensity. These guys are the musical equivalent to the drunkest guy at a party; they’re a lot of fun in small doses, but hang around too long and the act starts to wear on you. Cotton and Kessler can go scream for scream with Isaac Brock, Stephen Malkmus – anybody really. But the slower, dronier tracks are the equivalent of the kicked-keg sobering lamentations that really aren’t that poignant or interesting. These guys just don’t have the vocal chops or the instrumental prowess to go from Lonesome Crowded West to The Moon and Antarctica. Well, it’s been a few years since the debut Second to the Last Frontier (or Good News for People Who Love Bad Imitations), so let’s hope they’ve found their way out of the absolutely towering shadows of their northwestern predecessors.

Brand New Blood starts off with the striking “Kid Origami” which really challenges my preconceptions about these guys. There’s a definitive sense of maturity lyrically and musically, but without sacrificing their energy (re: background hell yeahs). For the first time, I actually find myself singing along to the chorus with no sense of irony. The passion is still ostensibly present, but they finally manage to pull off restraint without it feeling awkward. “Castrato” follows suit with its lush songscape and so many “woos” you might just think you’ve drifted into a TV on the Radio record. But soon enough, old feelings reemerge and “Group Home” starts to get a little exhausting. From there the album devolves into a meandering whine fest that reaffirms my conviction that the Feral Children really ought to stay away from the slackened tempo. I didn’t decide to call them Feral, that was their call. If I’d had my druthers, I’d have voted Arrogant Rats and they would have been the greatest Modest Mouse cover band ever (sorry Sun Kil Moon).

The brightest spots on this album after the first two tracks are “Conveyors,” which is the best effort for their new style, and “Enchanted Parkway,” which feel the most like a Frontier throwback. Three years ago, it seemed like the Children were setting out to reinvigorate a scene heading in the far less ass-kicking/face-punching direction of The Shins, Fleet Foxes, The Dodos, etc. (which is not to say these bands don’t kick ass). Now it seems more like the so-called Feral ones are peering through the windows of the bands they swore they’d never be.

Local Natives' Gorilla Manor

2010-01-12T17:28:00.003-05:00

Track List:
1. "Wide eyes" - 4:28
2. "Airplanes" - 4:00
3. "Sun Hands" - 4:53
4. "World News" - 4:32
5. "Shape Shifter" - 5:31
6. "Camera Talk" - 3:45
7. "Cards and Quarters" - 4:00
8. "Warning Sign" - 4:12
9. "Who Knows Who Cares" - 3:56
10. "Cubism Dream" - 4:01
11. "Stranger Things" - 5:47
12. "Sticky Thread" - 3:48

The Local Natives have been generating a lot of noise, and I’m not just referring to their debut Gorilla Manor. Most of the buzz was generated by their showing at last year’s SXSW festival in Austin, Texas. At this point, I feel obligated to mention the onslaught of Arcade Fire and Fleet Foxes comparisons these guys have garnered. Fleet Foxes, I get, but the Arcade Fire references are a little more confusing. It might be the raw energy they unleash onstage (just ask YouTube), but aside from that, I don’t really understand the connection. So let’s take the Fleet Foxes, and add a little more soul – something along the lines of Yeasayer’s All Hour Cymbals, a band who also caught our collective attention at SXSW. Perhaps the logic behind Arcade Fire comparisons is similar to my Yeasayer reasoning in the unmistakable flashes of chamber pop that permeate Gorilla Manor in sporadic and delightful moments, or perhaps it’s Local Natives obvious ambition that keeps said reference popping up in all sorts of reviews. Whatever the reasoning, there is certainly cause for the constant comparisons. As good as this album can be, and as impressive as some of the moments therein certainly are, it’s a little difficult to see Gorilla Manor as a whole lot more than a string of moments. If anything, the album might be a little overly ambitious.

But then again, maybe the problem is it’s just not ambitious enough. I was completely on board with this band, their sound and the album until I got to “Cards and Quarters.” The first six tracks seem to slowly evolve from the elusive opener, “Wide Eyes,” into the more obviously afro-pop influenced “World News” and the Fleet Foxes sounding “Shape Shifter” and “Camera Talk.” But then we have “Cards and Quarters” which totally deflates all of the momentum built up in the first half of the album. It’s not that I am anti-slow jam – I’m a big fan of “Who Knows Who Cares.” “Cards and Quarters” isn’t totally out of step with their sound, but it’s certainly the weakest part of it. That track and the closer, “Sticky Thread,” can be done away with altogether. They’re just too obvious, and the best part of this album is the unobvious, as in the scream break in “Sun Hands” and the frantic chorus of the Talking Heads cover, “Warning Sign.” Some reviewers have been accusing the Local Natives of drawing too heavily on influences without accurately defining themselves, but the Talking Heads cover alone proves to me the verity of this band’s sound.

I just think citing a lack of originality is, well, unoriginal – but it’s also lazy. There is plenty of originality to go around through these twelve tracks, the biggest problem is in the arrangement. Had I been a heavier influence in the production (what’s up guys, I thought we were down?), I would have made “Who Knows Who Cares” the closer, eliminated the two aforementioned weak links and called for a more explosive climax in “Camera Talk.” A few of those scream breaks and some of that delectably hectic drumming really would have taken this track from pretty okay to outstanding and done a lot for the overall flow. As Gorilla Manor stands, it just sort of peters out. It’s hard to give “Cubism Dream” and “Stranger Things” due credit after the attention severing “Cards and Quarters.” “Airplanes” with all of its haunting desperation is utterly moving. That track and the following “Sun Hands,” the first single, are likely to be the only tracks you remember.

The cover art alone makes it pretty clear that these guys are going to be hard to define. Heads exploding into splattering colors actually represents their intentions pretty well. My only wish is that they followed through with the evolution of their sound from disquieting chamber pop into the more harmonious Talking Heads inspired afro-pop. You just can’t start pushing the bar if you don’t have a destination in mind. Swing and a miss, but don’t count the Local Natives out just yet.