Asobi Seksu - Acoustic at Olympic Studios

General Ratings:

Music: 7
Lyrics: 6
Scope: 4
Consistency: 8

RIYL: Cat Power, And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out era Yo La Tengo, Yann Tiersen

Further Listening: Tenniscoats, Adem, Lady & Bird

Place of Origin: New York City, NY

Instrument/Sounds List: Acoustic Guitars, Piano, Multi-tracked Vocals, Alternative Percussion (Tambourine, Shaker, Woodblock), Glockenspiel, Synthesizers, Organ,Toy Piano.

Mood Tones:

Season: Late Summer
Weather: Rainy
Time of Day: Afternoon

Song Highlights: Thursday, Breathe Into Glass, New Years

Favorite Lyrics:

"There's pills, straws and bottles/
For all our hurt feelings/
They mix well in person,/
But sting when they're leaving." (from "Familiar Light")

"You're never as sad as you're acting/
And my attention's never far/
Let the ocean kiss your raincoat/
And save the doubts for after dark." (from "Blind Little Rain")

"Feel the air come closing in/
Before the hurricanes begin/
Strands of warmth come whispering/
And you can ask me anything." (from "Breathe Into Glass")

Other Thoughts:

There is a good possibility that most of Asobi Seksu's fans won't even bother tracking this record down, as nearly all of the things you associate with the band (e.g. intensely layered production, heavily distorted guitars, driving rhythms) are clearly not going to be focal to an album with the word acoustic in the title. Perhaps this record isn't for them anyway, as it shares much more in common with the self-produced bedroom pop of an artist like Adem than it does with My Bloody Valentine. It may also prove to be too much too soon, as it comes directly at the heels of Hush, the band's 3rd studio album, released in late February. Indeed, the band itself seems rather preoccupied, as 4 of the ten tracks originally appear on Hush, double that of any of their other records (2 cuts, "Thursday" and "New Years" are off Citrus, "Walk on the Moon" comes off the self-titled album, "Breathe Into Glass" was the b-side from the "Me and Mary" single, and two of the songs, "Suzanne" and "Urusai Tori," I haven't been able to place).

Acoustic albums are almost always disappointing, which is too bad given the potential that the concept holds. Instead of piecing apart a handful of classic cuts and stitching them back together in new and interesting ways, most of the acoustic records of recent memory have had a tossed off quality to them; gone are all but lead and rhythm guitar parts and maybe a drum track, simplicity becoming monotony before you'd even have to flip the long player over. Thus, heading into my first listen, I was pretty content with the idea that Acoustic at Olympic Studios would be disposable -- even the title suggests that it was thrown together as an after-thought while they were laying Hush down. How pleasant my surprise then that AAOS is every bit as considered and almost as nuanced as the rest of Asobi Seksu's catalog. One listen to the way they pair the sung chorus on "Thursday" with its spoken equivalent in French and not only have we arrived at something more interesting than 90% of the acoustic dregs out there, but they're doing exactly the opposite of what tradition dictates you do on this type of record: they're adding new parts.

And yet the best aspect of this album, especially considering the band making it and their particular proclivities, is how clean and focused the production is. The cuts aren't completely devoid of layering, per se, but things have definitely been boiled down a bit. In a way, it's reminiscent of watching Joanna Newsom perform Ys with her traveling band, six people doing the work of an entire orchestra. The strongest lines are brought front and center to play with one another, and without all of the other pieces that were thrown in to make the song sound full, all you hear is what the band takes to be the heart of each song, which in turn can influence the way you listen to the originals (this has definitely happened for me with "Thursday," which I had always thought was one of Citrus's lesser cuts--not anymore). This may be especially relevant to the Asobi Seksu fans who were underwhelmed by Hush, as not only do each of its revisited songs sound more focused, but their lyrics are also more easily discernable, and prove to be the best that they've laid to paper.

Other than the occasional dalliance (e.g. the samba-inspired "Urusai Tori" or the piano balladry of "Blind Little Rain") the album's songs are mostly of a piece, sustaining a mood of rainy day melancholy from beginning to end. It's probably a bit obvious, but I'd feel remiss without noting the utter loveliness of Yuki Chikudate's voice; its innate sweetness coupled with the simplicity of production and the use of glockenspiel and toy piano makes most of AAOS feel like a lullaby, and it's hard to think of another record that I'd rather be ferried off to dreamland by.

The Downside:

You will know pretty quickly if this record is going to interest you, and if it doesn't grab with the first couple of songs, there's not much reason to try to soldier through the rest. A couple cuts are simplified too much and fall prey to the aforementioned monotony that bathes most acoustic re-recordings. The band is working almost entirely within the downbeat sections of its catalog, probably assuming that songs like "Lions & Tigers" and "Goodbye" wouldn't translate as well, which means that some of their best original material is omitted here. If we want to get technical, the use of synthesizers makes this album less than 100% acoustic.

"If I stay here in this room, they'll remember me for my youth."

1. Pete & the Pirates - Moving
2. Bound Stems - Taking Tips from the Gallery Gang
3. The Corto Maltese - Providence
4. Realpeople (Beirut) - My Night with the Prostitute from Marseille
5. Fanfarlo - I'm a Pilot
6. Aidan Smith - Drapes of Black
7. Emperor X - Laminate Factory
8. Margot & the Nuclear So and So's - As Tall as Cliffs
9. Sin Fang Bous - We Belong
10. Yeasayer - Tightrope
11. Black Before Red - Underneath Gold
12. Oxford Collapse - Boys Go Home
13. Doves - Sky Starts Falling
14. Matt & Kim - I'll Take You Home
15. Cloud Cult - Everybody Here Is a Cloud

Here.

Headless Heroes - The Silence of Love

Tracklist:

1. True Love Will Find You in the End (Daniel Johnston)
2. Just One Time (Juicy Lucy)
3. Here Before (Vashti Bunyan)
4. Just Like Honey (The Jesus & Mary Chain)
5. To You (I am Kloot)
6. Blues Run the Game (Jackson C. Frank)
7. Hey, Who Really Cares? (Linda Perhacs)
8. Nobody's Baby Now (Nick Cave)
9. The North Wind Blew South (Philamore Lincoln)
10. See My Love (The Gentle Soul)

General Ratings:

Music: 7
Scope: 4
Consistency: 7

RIYL: Neko Case, The Handsome Family, mid-period Cat Power

Further Listening: Alela Diane, Kelly Hogan, Tarnation

Place of Origin: New York City, NY

Instrument/Sounds List: Electric & Acoustic Guitars, Electric & Upright Bass, Drums, Keyboard/Synthesizer, Piano, Strings, Pedal/Tape Manipulation, Multi-tracked Vocals, Xylophone/Glockenspiel, Trumpet, Harp, Zither, Organ.

Mood Tones:

Season: Fall
Weather: Overcast
Time of Day: Dusk

Song Highlights: To You, Just One Time, True Love Will Find You in the End

Other Thoughts:

Before I get into album specifics, I'd like to start by talking about a larger trend that I see emerging in indie music over the last 5 years or so that this album contributes to, namely, the growing popularity of the deconstructive cover album. The notion that a song belongs to its author, and that their initial performance of it is the bar that all subsequent performances should be measured against probably dates to the mid-60's when the idea of pop music as a legitimate artistic endeavor was first gaining traction. It can be instructional to go back and listen to some of the records released in the 40's and 50's when most (if not all) of the songs on any given album were standards written by professional songwriters who mostly labored in quiet obscurity in places like the Brill Building. The performer's job, it seems, was to take the songwriter's raw material and bend it to their style of delivery and emotive prowess, and that it was this act of interpretation that was the real product being sold.

But when the focus shifted, and the product that a band was selling became more unified (i.e. the authoritative performance of a song that they themselves have written and arranged), the idea of the standard gave way to the cover. When the Byrds covered Bob Dylan, most of their audience's concept of the songs they were singing were inseperable from the initial recording that Dylan had made of each song. It made the act of performing someone else's material an act of reference rather than an act of appropriation, and while we can all think of some notable exceptions (Hendrix's cover of "All Along the Watchtower" and Jeff Buckley's take on "Hallelujah" spring to mind), the consequence was that the overwhelming majority of covers came to be tributary; they were played in the same style as the original, often with the same instruments and the same solos. A band would acknowledge their debt to an influential forebearer by trying (and often failing) to beat their idols at their own game, banking on the belief that each successive rendition only added to the renown of the first.

However, the pendulum has taken a sharp swing back this past decade, perhaps in part due to the fanboyishness of certain famous performers (e.g. Kurt Cobain, Bono, etc.), but also, I would argue, due to the singular influence of Cat Power's The Covers Record. Here was a collection of songs from fairly disparate sources, that were mostly familiar to Ms. Marshall's target audience, but at the same time almost unrecognizable from their source material (I've played her cover of "Satisfaction," probably the most well-known original of the group, for dozens of people, and almost none of them have been able to identify it). Choruses were torn off, verses were looped, songs came to abrupt ends. She had a very clear idea not only about which songs she wanted to use, but also of the specific parts of each song and how she would remake them in her own image to convey only what she wanted. The finished product bore at least as much of her stamp as it did its previous owner's, and the strongest impression that you were left with when you finished listening to the album was that it sounded just like the rest of her records. It was an autobiographical collage more than anything else.

So here we are in the present day (finally) with The Silence of Love. On the one hand, like many of its contemporaries (e.g. Melody Mountain by Susanna & the Magical Orchestra) the debt that it owes to The Covers Record is undeniable, as it adopts a similar tone and draws from the same pool of 60's and 70's folk rock and 80's and 90's alternative music (with the notable exception of I Am Kloot's "To You"). More importantly, it also establishes and maintains its own sonic fingerprint, twisting the music to itself rather than vice versa, each song easily flowing into the next, dancing around similar themes of isolation and disappointment. On the other hand, one does get the sense that the album intends a healthy amount of tribute; The band's name refers to a Eugene McDaniels album, the album title to either a poem by Oscar Wilde, one by A.E. or perhaps a Luiz Bonfa song...who knows? Two-thirds of the songs are obscure enough that even most music lovers won't have heard of them (I'll admit I only caught 4: "True Love," "Here Before," "Just Like Honey" and "Nobody's Baby Now"), so it would seem that part of the point is nodding to the Obscure Objects of an audiophile's Desire. Although this may strip TSOL of some of the pleasures common to a covers record (e.g. comparing the new recordings to their source material to see where convention is subverted and where it's maintained), it also keeps them from retreading songs that have been done over and over, rubbed down to shiny cliche (cf. "Hallelujah," half of the Beatles catalog). In fact, if the concept doesn't interest you, it's not that hard to disregard the fact that this album is a covers record entirely.

Although she isn't the primary mover behind Headless Heroes (which would be Eddie Bezalel), the first thing you're likely to notice when you put the album on is Alela Diane's voice, which is atypically robust and pretty for an indie record. Ms. Diane has made a name for herself as a solo artist, having released two albums and toured with the likes of Joanna Newsom (a fellow Nevada City native) and Vashti Bunyan (whose "Here Before" is one of the tracks covered here). While Ms. Diane's voice is certainly pleasing and her delivery well-nuanced, you never get the sense that she's especially invested in the material, except perhaps on "To You" and "Just One Time," and it's the resentment and desperation that she lets seep into her voice on those two cuts that makes them the best on the record.

Musically speaking, The Silence of Love falls somewhere between the folk rock of the artists whose catalogs it draws upon and the nocturnal spookiness of some contemporary alt country acts like the Handsome Family. On most of the songs there is an interesting interplay between two electric guitars (one on each side of the mix) and the bass, each taking turns at the lead within a song, often finishing each others sentences. They're also selective in their arrangements, choosing at times to keep things simple with just an acoustic guitar (cf. "Blues Run the Game"), at others employing over a dozen different instruments to fill out the soundscape (cf. "See My Love" and "Just One Time"). To my ear, the fuller sound heard on the first and last thirds of the record are not only more interesting, but more convincing, sadder and creepier. When it draws from its fullest pallette, this is a record best listened to alone with the lights out, in a mood that's closer to gray than blue. Let's not miss the forest for the trees.

The Downside:

At first, the air of aloofness that Ms. Diane sometimes displays seems nothing more than a missed opportunity, not a strength and not a detriment, but upon repeat listens it can come to feel like a hole at the center of the record, leaving the worst offenders feeling a bit ephemeral, a bit under-cooked. The band is chiefly concerned with the establishment and maintenence of atmosphere, sometimes at the expense of the central melodies of a song, a good or bad thing depending on your personal predilections. More importantly, they never really do anything to try to transcend the genres that they've chosen to work within, but then again, when as much thought has gone into the selection process as obviously has here, perhaps drawing inside the lines is the better part of the point anyways.

The Sunsets Quick - The Sunsets Quick

I admit I don't know much about the local music scene here in Boston. I tend to wander into shows at the Middle East and TT the Bear's when the openers are finishing up, if only to avoid getting in too intimate of touch with my feet in lower back, and usually I'm none too impressed by the little I hear. But here's a band to watch: The Sunsets Quick, a quartet featuring Matt Roselli on vocals and guitar (and songwriting), Chase Livingston on guitar, keyboard, and backing vocals, Ashton Jones on bass, and Liz Maynes-Aminzade on drums. They formed in the winter of 2007 and released their self-titled debut last fall (further contributions by Martin H. Gonzalez and Simon Pongratz, truly excellent cover art by Molly Butterfoss).

They play a catchy, breezy indie rock reminiscent of Weezer, Pavement, The Strokes, and Bishop Allen. Most are mid-to-up tempo numbers, but a few shouters, the contemplative "Sorry," and the more country-stylings of "Pave the Streets" round things out. Roselli moves ably from a carefully enunciated delivery to hearty bark, and he's already learned to make his falsetto crack at the opportune moment ("What You Want to Hear"). At times he's a little too eager to bite his syllables off, searching like every young frontman for his style. When he settles into his own songs and natural vocal style, he's at his best, I think (on the latter half of the couplets of "Deaf Dumb," he sounds downright Rivers Coumo-ish). Livingston adds catchy and clean fills and solos (no wankery here)--his work on "The Hook" and "Piece" especially stands out, as does the synth/keyboard behind "Straight Line". There are a number of great great intros on the record ("What You Want to Hear," "Down," "The Hook") that one wishes the band let further into the songs--usually they drop out to a sparser sound for the verses. Jones and Maynes-Aminzade keep everything nodding and the tempo-changes exact and are showcased particularly on the stop/start action of "Samsara." The best tracks here--"What You Want to Hear," "The Hook," "Straight Line," and "Piece"--are fully-formed, potential already actualized, making this a band to root for.

Give them a listen on myspace and their website and pick up the album on Itunes.

You can check them out in person this Thursday, April 9th, at the Cantab Lounge (Central Sq., Cambridge) at 9 pm. I'll be there.

Grand Archives - Grand Archives

General Ratings:

Music: 8
Lyrics: 6
Scope: 7
Consistency:4

RIYL: Band of Horses, Gram Parsons, Summerteeth-era Wilco

Further Listening: Sera Cahoone, Carissa's Wierd, The Twin Atlas

Place of Origin: Seattle, WA

Instrument/Sounds List: Electric and Acoustic Guitars, Bass, Drums, Multi-tracked Vocals & Harmonies, Keyboard/Synthesizer, Piano, Effects Pedals/Tape Manipulation, Harmonica, Alternative Percussion (shaker, tambourine, woodblock, jingle bells, chopsticks), Whistling, Pedal Steel, Banjo, Trombone, Trumpet, Flugelhorn, Violin, Cello, Glockenspiel, Melodica, Hammered Dulcimer, Mandolin, Ukulele, French Horn, Organ, Field Recordings.

Mood Tones:

Season: Spring
Weather: Overcast
Time of Day: Afternoon

Song Highlights: The Crime Window, Torn Blue Foam Couch, Swan Matches

Favorite Lyrics:

"Bag of bones, cursing at the spit he spat,/
He was creep creep creeping up the railroad track./
Tell his Mrs. that Mr.'s fine,/
Keep her fingers crossed and her split tongue tied."
(from "The Crime Window")

"We were all blue,/
Disguised in black,/
Bad news travels fast."
(from "Index Moon")

"It's nearly dawn, your motel home,/
The shades were drawn to hide the storm/
Without a sound, the TV glows,/
The blankets tied around our throats."
(from "Sleepdriving")

Other Thoughts:

It's always made me sad that this album got mostly over-shadowed by the fallout of Mat Brooke's decision to leave Band of Horses. If anything, a side-by-side comparison of Grand Archives and Cease To Begin underscores to me that the elements of Everything All the Time that I enjoyed the most were probably Brooke's contributions; while CTB is easily classifiable as a vanilla guitar rock album with sub-par lyrics, Grand Archives runs the gamut from punkish sing-a-long ("The Crime Window") to coffeehouse folk ("George Kaminski") to indie pop ("Miniature Birds") to gypsy dub ("Breezy No Breezy"). Don't get me wrong, the blueprint for this record is mostly recognizable in its forebearer, but it's surprising how cleanly Brooke and Ben Bridwell fit into the Jekyll and Hyde roles (musically speaking) when comparing their follow-up efforts. I would go so far as to claim that there is nothing that Bridwell does on Cease To Begin that isn't one-upped somewhere on Grand Archives, and, that the inverse of this sentiment has been almost uniformly regurgitated by the reviews that I've read of GA has left me wondering if we're even listening to the same album.

So there are all the pieces of an early 70s classic rock record here, major 7 chords, vocal harmonies, a crisscrossing of the folk/rock divide. Seems straightforward enough, no? But the deeper you get into Grand Archives, the more you begin to notice and appreciate the energy and deliberation that went into crafting all of its inter-locking pieces. On one track, a plucked cello substitutes in for an electric bass, on another, a banjo is played with a slide, smoothing out its rough edges so that it will blend better with the vocals. I've listened to this album over 30 times and there are still sounds that I can't place with certainty, as well as a slew of others that I only know about from reading interviews with the band. Headphones are probably a good idea here, if only to pick up on some of the nifty production tricks they pull, like alternating the sides of vocal leads, and crossfading at the end of a couple songs. This seems especially worth noting given how easy it is to miss all of the precision by simply getting caught up in how pleasant sounding it all is. There are maybe two or three songs where the lead melody isn't immediately memorable, and while Brooke's voice may sound a bit airy at times, he gets around this problem by constructing elaborate multiple-part harmonies, sometimes layering his own voice, sometimes juxtaposing his against a cadre of back-up vocalists (never to better effect than in his duet with Sera Cahoone on "Swan Matches"). It also bears noting that his voice, if a bit non-descript, is exceedingly easy on the ears, a refreshing alternative to the John Darnielles and Stephen Malkmuses that seem to have taken over indie music (not that I don't love them both).

The Downside:

This album was cut in piece-meal seesions at three different studios, and the more you listen to it, the more the subtle recording and mixing differences between tracks can start to affect the flow. Equally important is the fact that the range of styles and the sequencing's penchant for somewhat abrupt shifts in tone, while never reaching Beck-like proportions, could make this an album of hits and skips, or at least something you might be tempted to re-sequence. The lyrics never take away from a song, but they rarely add to it as well, which gives them an ephemeral quality and makes them one of the album's few missed opportunities.

Bound Stems - The Family Afloat

General Ratings:

Rating: 8
Breadth of Appeal: 6
Consistency of Quality: 7

RIYL: Tapes ‘n Tapes, Broken Social Scene, Cursive

Further Listening: Oxford Collapse, Desaparecidos, Kevin Drew

Place of Origin: Chicago, IL

Instrument/Sounds List: Electric Guitar, Bass, Drums, Keyboards, Vocals, Female Backup Vocals, Acoustic Guitar, Banjo, Shaker, Handclaps, Tambourine, Whistling, Typewriter

Mood Tones: Walking through the city to a party of yet unknown quality.

Song Highlights: Taking Tips from the Gallery Gang, Winston, Happens to Us All Otherwise

Favorite Lyrics:

“On a lucky afternoon, /
I pull the blankets to my chin. /
You sing about your little town. /
I fall in love with you again.” (from Clear Water and Concrete)

“Heard you called it quits /
and spelled it out the day we met. /
You said ‘We’re not gonna take this lying down /
We’re not gonna take this lying down.’ /
The evening was clear and brief, /
walked several blocks of empty streets. /
There’s a shadow world hangin’ over our heads. /
There’s a shadow world hangin’ over our heads.

The clever kids are buying drinks, /
and we can’t make much sense of it. /
At the end of the evening it’s time, /
and it’s the end of the evening (it’s time).” (from Cloak of Blue Sky)

“On the evening radio, /
with his hand to god /
he said, ‘I knew it all along.’ /
Though when he and I talked /
he said, ‘Tell me what you think of the world, would you now?’” (from Winston)

Further Thoughts:

Bound Stems existed from 2002-2008, never seemed to get much attention, and sadly put out only two LPs (as well as one EP in their final lineup and a smattering of earlier EPs). Their first album, “Appreciation Night,” has some gems but is uneven--Bobby Gallivan seems unsure what sort of vocal delivery he’s after, and the band as a whole seems unwilling to embrace their hooks.

“A Family Float” exhibits a willful (and welcome) move toward accessibility--the melodies are clearer and stronger and the arrangements somewhat streamlined. Only somewhat, though. There are still unusual time signatures, structurally complicated songs, and impressive musicianship here. Opener “Taking Tips from the Gallery Gang” is representative, moving through three distinct sections: a normal guitar and bass indie number develops into a wall of sound only to give way to a minimal section of synths and kickdrum, but then a crunchier guitar returns to lead the song into a final group singalong. There aren’t really any straightforward verse/chorus constructions to be had here.

What’s remarkable is how catchy the album then manages to be. A chorus is training for its latter instantiations, and rare is the songwriter who makes the first chorus already familiar without resorting to cliché. Rarer still is the songwriter who then resists bringing such a turn back, but labors in the creation of a new one instead. This lends the album a resiliency if not consistency. Given the ambition, it’s easy enough to point to less interesting sections in any song. But these are now tension building, put in service of larger deferral and payoff structures. Not that there aren’t a few changeups thrown in as well: a lovely keyboard loop on “Clear Water and Concrete,” a Shins-esque falsetto “La La La” set on “Cloak of Blue Sky,” and especially the more meditative acoustic guitar and banjo-driven “Winston.”

The album’s defining feature is Gallivan’s delivery, though. He ranges from speak sing to a “Saddlecreek warble” (Spin) to a barroom singalong leader. And he almost never sings in a regular meter, finding a new pattern or rhythm every few lines. Usually such a method is awkward and stilted, but Gallivan’s missteps are few, no doubt because of the careful crafting of the changes and syncing with his backers. All this does, not surprisingly, make the album a classic grower, however, whose charms might not be immediately obvious or accessible in their full force.

The Downside:

Gallivan’s voice isn’t for everyone. He reminds me most directly of Cursive’s Tim Kasher (without the extremes of shouting and hardcore posturing) and of Conor Oberst (without the extremes of emo and fragility posturing)--both far from univerally beloved frontmen--and there are also a few moments where his speak sing mode verges a little too close to something like Dispatch.

M'arrêter

The first of many.

Fanfarlo - Reservoir

[The idea was that David and I would both review this without having discussed the band too extensively to see how similar our reviews came out.]

General Ratings:

Rating: 9
Breadth of Appeal: 8
Consistency of Quality: 9

RIYL: the Arcade Fire, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, Beirut

Further Listening: Corto Maltese, Speedmarket Avenue, Mazarin

Place of Origin: London, England

Mood Tones: An unexpectedly temperate winter day in which the sky is compared to a dome.

Song Highlights: I’m a Pilot, Drowning Men, Harold T. Wilkins or How to Wait for a Very Long Time

Favorite Lyrics:

“If I stay in this room, /
they’ll remember me for my youth.” (from I’m a Pilot)

“We can still afford to not make sense at all.” (from Drowning Men)

“For atoms have gone /
as far as atoms will go. /
Your books write themselves, /
they line up row after row.” (from The Walls Are Coming Down)

Further Thoughts:

I’ve been listening to it regularly for a month now, and I’m increasingly convinced that “Reservoir” is the equal of the Arcade Fire’s “Funeral,” the album it’s most obviously indebted to. There are no heights the height of “Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels)” or “Rebellion (Lies)” here, but there also aren’t the lows of “In the Backseat” or stretches of “Neighborhood #4 (Kettles)” or some of the other slower songs. My choice of song highlights is close to arbitrary, so consistent is the quality of the album. There’s nothing here resembling a bad song, and I would go so far as to venture that there aren’t even any bad moments. I credit no small measure of this to Peter Katis’s production--the man behind the boards on “Boxer,” “Turn on the Bright Lights,” and “Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters,” three of the best-sounding records in recent memory. Those are all rather paranoid, claustrophobic records, though, whereas "Reservoir" is open, generous, and anthemic. This is my favorite record since The National’s “Boxer,” and that’s probably one of my five favorite records of all time.

Fanfarlo played SXSW this weekend, and one hopes that at the very least they’ll come away with some well-placed reviews (In the Arcade Fire, Broken Social Scene, and Tapes ‘n Tapes mold, it’s pretty easy to imagine Pitchfork exploding this band, though, sadly, I can also imagine some asshole reviewer giving it a cursory listen, accusing them of ripping off the RIYL touchstones and moving on). Unless they’re purposely CYHSY-ing it (“Reservoir” is self-released, available on their website and (recently) now Itunes) it’s not hard to imagine those shows and the sheer strength of the album spawning a record or distribution deal, either.

The Downside:

This band has only two flaws so far as I’m concerned. First, their mediocre name, which seems at first goofy, but turns out to be pretentious (it’s a Baudelaire reference). More importantly, Balthazar’s voice is a bit too unflappable. Unlike CYHSY’s Alec Ounsworth (who he most resembles, without the extremes of whining), Win Butler, and Zach Condon, Balthazar doesn’t seem to have a second level to take his voice to, and so he can’t quite sell his choruses the way he should given Fanfarlo’s anthemic sound.

It’s probably worth mentioning too that guitarist Mark West left the band after the album was recorded (none of his other projects seem interesting on brief perusal). Most of Fanfarlo’s songs are built up in many layers on a foundation of simple chord changes, so it’s hard to imagine this having a huge effect on their sound.

Fanfarlo - Reservoir

General Ratings:

Music: 8
Lyrics: 7
Scope: 7
Consistency: 8

RIYL: The Arcade Fire, Black-Sheep-Boy-era Okkervil River, Beirut

Further Listening: Mixed Cases, Ra Ra Riot, Ohbijou

Place of Origin: London, UK

Instrument/Sounds List: Electric & Acoustic Guitars, Bass, Drums, Keyboard/Synthesizer, Piano, Trumpet, Strings, Accordion, Glockenspiel, Mandolin, Alternative Percussion (hand claps, foot stomps, junk bag, shaker), Multi-Tracked Vocals, Singing Saw, Clarinet, Banjo, Melodica, Whistling, Tape/Pedal Manipulation.

Mood Tones:

Season: Fall
Weather: Windy
Time of Day: Dusk

Song Highlights: The Walls Are Coming Down, I'm a Pilot, Luna

Favorite Lyrics:

"You had the driver sign your arm/
My hospitals will welcome you home/
Like a truth, with Godmothers aching/
To look at your grace and believe what you say/
But kid, I'm a pilot: it's all I believe in/
It's all I believe in, you can ride on my back." (from "I'm a Pilot")

"Cry murder, cry what you like,/
Just like the comet, lead the way/
We'll tear it down, we'll hold the truth/
By the neck, by the neck/
Kick in the doors and burn the books/
Try to forget, try to forget." (from "Comets")

"Atoms have gone as/
Far as atoms will go/
Your books write themselves, they/
Line up in row after row." (from "The Walls Are Coming Down")

Other Thoughts:

Fanfarlo may just be the best new band you've never heard of. Now a quintet, following the departure of their guitar player, they're a London-based band formed around Simon Balthazar, who originally hails from Gothenburg, Sweden. They've quietly released a smattering of singles, mostly on local indie labels (including the upcoming "Drowning Men," out soon on Moshi Moshi, which itself is proving to be a label to watch out for), but make their great leap forward with Reservoir, one of the best albums I've heard in a good long while. True, it may only be March, but if another record comes along this year that's both as instantly enjoyable and sustainable as this, 2009 will be a gifted year indeed. I can't stress strongly enough how much you really need to hear this record.

Why? The first thing you notice, probably the first thing you notice about any good record, is the strength of the leads, most of which are almost immediately remarkable. Mr. Balthazar is graced not only with a keen ear for melodies, but also a strong tenor with which to annunciate them, his voice falling somewhere between Zach Condon and David Byrne (at his more subdued moments). Next you hear how thoroughly orchestrated the album is, how tightly violins and trumpets and synthesizers (along with a host of other instruments, see the list for more details) fit together over the basic trinity of guitar, bass and drums. Speaking of the bass and drums, it wasn't until the fourth or fifth listen that I realized how solid the rhythm section is: the word anthemic gets tossed around a lot these days, but is apt for a majority of the cuts here, and is a testament mostly to driving beats and acrobatic basslines that Amos Memon and Justin Finch concoct, which serve as the backbone that supports all of the band's loftier impulses. Delving deeper into Reservoir, it reveals a level of nuance that is truly rare from a self-financed, freshman effort. Note the way the backing vocals are layered on top of each other on "Ghosts" (a song about a town whose living population has mostly fled the meteorological impingements of their ethereal counterparts); they sound, well, ghostlike. Note the whistling coda on "Fire Escape" that puts the final spin on the nocturnal swirl begun by the keyboards. All of the choices feel considered and add synergistically in a full and vibrant rendering.

Am I gushing? On more recent listens, I've been struck by how consistent the material is. It's perhaps no surprise that this is one of the most balanced records I've reviewed (a fact reflected in the ratings). What is a surprise is that there aren't any tracks that I skip, something I can't even say for some of my favorite records. I mean not to imply that some tracks aren't better than others, but rather that there are no place holders, no filler; every song has some line or part that jumps out and grabs your attention, even the instrumental closer. Also, as I've mentioned before, I think it's truly difficult for a record to have both a strong consistency of tone and good breadth of appeal. Here is that album.

Also, what kind of ridiculous hot streak is Peter Katis on? Better known to the music world as the knob-twirler behind Tarquin studios (the Bridgeport, CT recording hole that gave us Interpol's Turn On the Bright Lights, The National's Alligator and Boxer, Frightened Rabbit's Midnight Organ Fight and The Twilight Sad's 14 Autumns & 15 Winters), Katis makes good on the idea that, when done properly, production can add as much to a song as a lead instrument. To fully appreciate his contribution to this album, track down some of the band's early singles and compare them to the cuts on Reservoir. Certainly it's the same band, same breathy vocals, same kitchen sink instrumentation, same vivaciousness, but even the best of them are missing the polish and grace that each of the tracks on Reservoir is wrapped in. When you first hear "The Walls Are Coming Down" you're tempted to think they're talking about the Wall of Sound, the big tsunami of beautiful music that's spilling out of your speakers. But put on your headphones, pay a little more attention and don't be surprised to hear all of the pieces slip apart independently from each other; lead vocal - backing vocals - acoustic guitar - mandolin (or possibly ukulele?) - bass - drums - trumpet - violin - glockenspiel, sometimes up to nine or ten distinct parts at once. Try this same thing with the earlier songs and you'll drive yourself mad; the leads are distinct, but the rest of the parts pack together in polymorphic analogue.

As of this review, Reservoir is only available through the band's website, as for some crazy reason, no label has picked this up yet (or perhaps because, as Ben is likely to suggest, they're pulling a Clap-Your-Hands-Say-Yeah maneuver). Either way, take my word that tracking it down is well worth whatever time and money it takes.

The Downside:

The only real beef I have with this record is that occasionally its influences border on source material. The best example of this is "Drowning Men," whose piano/bass combo is instantly reminiscent of the Arcade Fire song "Rebellion (Lies)." But even this is forgivable, given the fact that this is their first album. Here's to hoping there are many more where this came from.

Sambassadeur - Migration

General Ratings:

Music: 7
Lyrics: 5
Scope: 4
Consistency: 7

RIYL: The Go Betweens, The Lightning Seeds, The Magnetic Fields

Further Listening: The Labrador Records stable, Casiotone for the Painfully Alone, Fireflies

Place of Origin: Gothenburg, Sweden

Instrument/Sounds List: Acoustic & Electric Guitars, Keyboards/Synthesizers, Bass, Drums, Drum Machine, Female/Male Vocals, Piano, Violin, Saxophone, Trumpet, Autoharp, Tambourine, Foot Stomps, Droning Backing Vocals.

Mood Tones:

Season: Summer
Weather: Sunny
Time of Day: Afternoon

Song Highlights: The Park, Something to Keep, Migration

Favorite Lyrics:

"There's no time for disagreeing/
When the scene is so deceiving." (from "Final Say")

"The falling of stars/
Will come back in fashion again/
On nights when/
You were happening." (from "Subtle Changes")

"Now that I've turned/
Every conceivable cheek/
Do I have to admit/
It makes me sore and weak?" (from "Someday We're Through")

Other Thoughts:

Pelle Almqvist (of all people) once made a comment about Swedes having to re-invent all of the types of music that they heard on TV growing up, because the albums were never locally available to them. This idea gains traction when one considers the breadth of sounds coming out of Sweden in recent years against it's population size (about 9.2 million people, roughly the same as the state of North Carolina) and homogeneity of demographic (84% of the country identify as ethnic Swedes). I mention this because to my ear, Sambassadeur sounds unmistakably Swedish, fitting easily into a constellation including ABBA, The Cardigans and Jens Lekman. If one were to tug on the roots a little harder, I think they could be traced back in equal parts to the New Romantic acts coming out of Britain in the 1980s and the American AM radio hits of the 1970s. So I suppose you could argue that a band like Sambassadeur is one generation removed from the sonic integration that Almqvist was talking about, now swinging the pendulum back in the direction of unification of sound and aesthetic.

But this parsing itself misses one of the most unifying aspects of modern Swedish music, namely its penchant for pairing sunny melodies with utterly depressing lyrics, of which Sambassadeur are guilty as charged. One imagines this as a response to the epidemic of Seasonal Affective Disorder that descends upon Sweden from September to May, with the music being written as a bulwark and the lyrics as an exorcism. As one might guess from glancing at that section of the review, Migration isn't exactly lyrically robust. The lyrics are, however, quite intimate and romantic, easily read as slightly embellished journal entries. Taken separately they may seem trifling, but in aggregate they display equal amounts of a longing for human contact and a sense of hopelessness regarding the prospects that any meaningful interaction might occur.

As mentioned before, this depressing sentiment is counterbalanced by the music, which is continuously cheerful and up tempo. By my count, there are at least 4 different types of synthesizer employed, which establishes the primary sonic commonality between Migration and it's New Wave forebearers (even some of the acoustic instruments sound digitally stretched and processed). All of this is laid over a bed of intensely melodic, interweaving acoustic and electric guitars that are the album's bedrock. We hear more of Anna Persson and less of Daniel Permbo than on the eponymous debut, which is probably preferable, as Permbo's voice is rather thin and frequently pushed beyond the boundaries it was intended to remain within.

Finally, to those who seek out and enjoy this record, I can't suggest strongly enough that you spend some time plumbing the depths of the Labrador Records catalogue. From the sampler box alone, I've found 5 artists that I love (The Radio Dept., Suburban Kids with Biblical Names, Club 8 and Pelle Carlberg, along with Sambassadeur), and a good number of others that I enjoy in smaller doses. I can't think of any other label currently operating whose batting average is higher.

The Downside:

As mentioned before, the lyrics can be rather simple, and to an indisposed ear, a bit over-wrought. The melodies are syrupy and could come to be too much for those lacking the appropriate dentum. The strong, mechanical beats may feel a bit dated, and/or cause one to flash back to a more awkward and hormonal time in one's life. If listened to with headphones, this record may incite spontaneous bottom shaking, which depending on location and company could be a very good or very bad thing. Handle with caution and optimism, preferably in appropriate levels of daylight.

23 of 69 Love Songs [rethought]

A little data-gathering operation, which will perhaps be relevant to the conversation below.

(Left in order for ease of comparison)

1. Absolutely Cuckoo
2. All My Little Words
3. I Don't Want to Get Over You
4. The Luckiest Guy on the Lower East Side
5. I Think I Need a New Heart
6. The One You Really Love
7. A Pretty Girl Is Like...
8. (Crazy for You But) Not that Crazy
9. Washington, D.C.
10. Long-Forgotten Fairytale
11. Papa Was a Rodeo
12. Underwear
13. It's a Crime
14. I'm Sorry I Love You
15. The Death of Ferdinand de Saussure
16. Bitter Tears
17. Wi' Nae Wee Bairn Ye'll Me Beget
18. Meaningless
19. Love Is Like a Bottle of Gin
20. Queen of the Savages
21. I Can't Touch You Anymore
22. Two Kinds of People
23. How to Say Goodbye

Alternate takes invited.

The Stage Names/Stand Ins [rethought]

I'm gonna try something a little different here.

I often find myself second-guessing even my favorite artists. Frustrated by songs that shouldn't have made the cut (or B-sides that should have), collaborations that (while well-intentioned) never should have seen the light of day (e.g. the Tom Waits/Bette Middler duet on "I Never Talk To Strangers"), horrendous album art (the original cover of You Forgot It In People, anyone?), even simple sequencing problems. The number of records that I listen to without skipping any songs can be counted on my left hand. And nowhere is this more true than with double albums.

Rare is the book longer than 500 pages that wouldn't have benefitted from being edited down, and doubly rare is the double album that shouldn't have been a single, stream-lined, 12-track massacre. The classic thought experiment in this vein (which we can get to eventually, if there's any interest) is to try to whittle the Magnetic Fields' 69 Love Songs down to 23 Love Songs (the length of each of the original 3 volumes), or else however many you can fit onto a single 80-minute CD. No more "Punk Rock Love" throwaways, no more "Wi' Nae Wee Bairn Ye'll Me Beget" nonsense, just your absolute favorite cuts lined up end to end. While it may be impossible to find any song that an absolute consensus could agree to ditch, I think a strong two-thirds majority wouldn't be that hard to reach.

Enter Okkervil River.

Mr. Sheff mostly brings this on himself, as he was fond of regaling interviewers with his distaste for double albums when discussing OR's Stage Names/Stand Ins project, basically a double album with the first disc concerning the pitfalls of fame, the second, in negative, looking at the liminal space that surrounds fame, the groupies, ex-boyfriends, has-beens, etc. First, there's no small amount of hubris to posturing in opposition to the form you've chosen to work within. It's almost as if he's saying "double albums have never worked before because I've never made one" (the flip side of this notion is that he took his own distaste as a challenge, a nicer way to phrase things and a notion that I'm not entirely unsympathetic to, but ultimately just the other side of the same coin). Second, academically speaking, the line drawn between these two groups of muses seems artificial to me, specifically the idea that there would be anything so fundamentally different between them that they couldn't cohabitate on a single disc just seems wrong to me. Third, and perhaps most apropos, the bulk of the Stand Ins feels like filler, and even it's best moments seem to reflect even better ones on the Stage Names (cf. "Pop Lie" vs. "Unless It's Kicks," "Bruce Wayne Campbell Interviewed on the Roof of the Chelsea Hotel, 1979" vs. "John Allyn Smith Sails"). While this may underscore his conceit nicely, it doesn't make the slow moments on the Stand Ins any easier to swallow.

Therefore, in service of a more personal hubris, I have merged the two albums, cut the filler, resequenced and compiled the album that Okkervil River should have put out. I give you:

The Stage Names/Stand Ins [rethought]

1. Our Life is Not a Movie or Maybe

2. Pop Lie

3. Unless It's Kicks

4. A Hand to Take Hold of the Scene

5. You Can't Hold the Hand of a Rock and Roll Man

6. Lost Coastlines

7. Calling and Not Calling My Ex

8. Love to a Monster

9. Plus Ones

10. John Allyn Smith Sails

11. Title Track

12. Bruce Wayne Campbell Interviewed on the Roof of the Chelsea Hotel, 1979

Peter and the Wolf - Lightness

General Ratings:

Music: 7
Lyrics: 6
Scope: 5
Consistency: 7

RIYL: Seven Swans era Sufjan Stevens, Iron & Wine, Bonnie 'Prince' Billy

Further Listening: Deer Tick, Laura Gibson, Lewis and Clark

Place of Origin: Austin, TX

Instrument/Sounds List: Acoustic Guitar, Male/Female Vocal Harmonies, Electric Guitar, Drums, Alternative Percussion (congas, shaker, foot stomps), Ukulele, Piano, Trumpet, Ambient Sounds, Whistling.

Mood Tones:

Season: Spring
Weather: Cool & Clear
Time of Day: Dusk

Song Highlights: Safe Travels, The Bonsai Tree, The Highway

Favorite Lyrics:

"God, I'm glad I met you/
Life was getting old/
But you like me,/
And my dark poetry/
And you're happy when it's cold." (from Holy Water)

"We wander through your city,/
We've traveled very far,/
We spend our hard-earned money at the bar./
We can't afford a taxi,/
We shouldn't drive a car,/
And tomorrow we return to the sea." (from Dear Old Robyn)

"How lucky to be/
So unusually free:/
You and me,/
Under the apple tree." (from The Apple Tree)

Other Thoughts:

For the most part, Peter & the Wolf is Red Hunter, a semi-nomadic Texan troubadour who made a name for himself in the Austin scene by playing shows in unconventional venues, like cemetaries and rooftops. And without reading too much into what's clearly an intentional, self-made mystique, there is an air of authenticity to P&tW's recordings that is absent from most of the fruit of the mid-oughts indie folk revival. Many of the songs appearing on Lightness are re-recordings, the originals appearing either on the band's first two CDRs (Peter & the Wolf and Experiments in Junk) or Alien Sun, the last record Mr. Hunter released under his given name. This stones-in-a-river technique was the bread and butter of most folk musicians before the advent of recording began casting the concept of any song's performance in stone, and coupled with the simplicity of arrangement, cleanliness of production and Red's well-chronicled itchy feet, it makes the record seem more like a road diary than the sequential capturing of performative pinnacles that most albums generally strive to be.

It's no coincidence then that the main subject matter of the album is movement, primarily across space, and that most of the songs feel like postcards ("Grey Overcoat" even ends with the phrase "You'd love it here/ I visit, but I can't stay"). I've often thought that the best way to listen to this album would be on a long train ride, looking out the windows as the towns roll by, or barring that, in the central leg of a roadtrip. This serial quality slices both ways, establishing a firm consistency of tone but undercutting the idea that any particular person, location or event in each song might have any special significance. To put it another way, we know that Red likes out-of-the-way, exotic places, but are left with the sense that all in all, one is as good as the next.

Also worth mentioning is the sheer tunefulness of most of the songs on Lightness. Gentle acoustic strums in minor keys are almost always accompanied by lush vocal harmonies, simple percussion and occasional, assiduous additional instrumentaion. While it's easy to get caught up in discussing the larger ideas of a record, here more than in most contemporary recordings, it's the basic melodies, not the production's smoke and mirrors, that will keep you coming back for more. Also, the spare way in which he chooses to orchestrate the songs lends each extra piece an air of intentionality and indelibility (cf. the trumpet on "Safe Travels" or the piano on "The Highway"), which is difficult to match when when blending more than three or four tonal parts.

The Downside:

None of the songs break the 4 minute mark, and many of them barely breach the 2. Taken as an album, this is practically meaningless, but in isolation, individual songs can feel insubstantial. This isn't aided by the fact that P&tW's formula is, as mentioned above, fairly simple and seldom strayed from. In the one instance when it is, the one-two punch of "Captain Dan" and "Black Saltwater," surprisingly agressive (and in the case of "Black Saltwater," nearly melody-less) cuts. They're placed toward the end of the album, after mood and tone have been clearly established and sustained, very nearly breaking the flow of the entire record, and I'm not really sure what Mr. Hunter is playing after by including them, as neither is particularly noteworthy. I almost always end up skipping them. On the other hand, what one person sees as maintenance of tone, another will see as a lack of ideas, and if you're the sort of person who highly values variation within a record, Lightness may bore you. For my part, I'm not sure how many listens it will take for something this pretty to seem pedestrian, but it's definitely a good deal more than I've given it.

Casiotone For The Painfully Alone - Etiquette

General Ratings:

Music: 6
Lyrics: 8
Scope: 3
Consistency: 7

RIYL: The Magnetic Fields, The Smiths, The Postal Service

Further Listening: Sambassadeur, Future Bible Heroes, My Little Airport

Place of Origin: Chicago, IL

Instrument/Sounds List: Keyboard/Synthesizer, Drum Machine, Piano, Bass, Drums, Flute.

Mood Tones:

Season: Spring
Weather: Rainy
Time of Day: Evening

Song Highlights: I Love Creedence, Scattered Pearls, Holly Hobby (version)

Favorite Lyrics:

"We Drink too much and fuck too soon/
Smoke cigarettes in rented rooms/
We quit our jobs & shoot the moon/
& cut our wrists & sleep til noon." (from Young Shields)

"We laughed like we were queens/
& split our ballgowns at the seams/
& every single time I'd dream/
It was only El & me/
But then she slipped away from me/
She met a boy from New Jersey/
And they fell fast in love, of course/
I swear it felt like a divorce." (from I Love Creedence)

"Cap & gown, in purple & gold/
You're 22 years old/
& a woman now, you're told./
Aunt Beth & Charlie cut a check/
For their graduating niece,/
& you marked your independence/
With a signature on a lease." (from Cold White Christmas)

Other Thoughts:

This feels like a coming-of-age record to me, not in the sense that the songs describe that awkward time, but rather that Owen Ashworth seems to finally grasp the full range of possibilities that are available to him. Starting strictly as a home recording project (their first album was called Answering Machine Music with good reason), CFTPA has become something grander, if not necessarily bigger. Growth is a concept that gets batted around a lot in music criticism, often to prop up a vague distaste for the new material of a once-cherished band (e.g. "[artist] seems to be just treading water here; the same sounds and themes that made [previous record] seem like a revelation make [new record] feel tired"), but the extra inches here are undeniable and suggest that Ashworth is a record or two away from something classic. The beats and synthesizers that are CFTPA's calling card are still here, to be sure, but there are also a number of acoustic instruments (even a flute) intermeshed in the fabric, and generally higher-quality production values. To understand the impact that this makes, take a second to track down the two versions of the song Roberta C. that are out there (the first is on Twinkle Echo and the second is on the Young Shields EP, the first single from Etiquette). The lyrics and melody are exactly the same, but I wouldn't blame you for not batting an eyelash at the first, whose production sounds light and thin. The second version kills, in part because of the added background strings that come in at just the right time, but also because the cleaner production and surer-footed vocal performance make you really pay attention to the story, which is heart-breaking. It's not fair to call this album a quantum leap, as Casiotone's greatest strengths have always been Ashworth's genius with narrative and keen eye for detail, but it wouldn't be that far off from the truth.

Speaking of the narratives, good lord, they're here. The only album I've reviewed so far that approximately equaled Etiquette for wealth of options in the Lyrics department was Shallow Grave. There's basically a short story collection here, as the scenarios in no less than 7 of these songs are fully realized enough to be source material. My favorite is probably "Scattered Pearls," in which the narrator tries to console her mother over the loss of an heirloom pearl necklace that is broken at a bar by a drunk third party who is trying to pick up the narrator's sister, only 7 of the pearls having been recovered. I think you get the idea. As I mentioned in the Dent May review, Mr. Ashworth ranks close to the top of my list of writers who implicitly understand my particular subset of Generation Y (cf. the quote from Young Shields in the Lyrics section). He certainly doesn't disappoint on Etiquette, and if anything, he's probably getting better, as he seems to have moved from trying to enunciate idiosyncratic emotions to constructing well-defined characters.

Finally, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the beats, which are strong, if a bit conventional. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure he's just using the demo beats that come with his various keyboards, so they're simple, familiar and mostly in 4/4 time. The further into the record you get, the less prevalent they become, and I could understand some of the apprehension that sprouted among the small-but-vocal fan base that he was tracing the same sanitizing arc as Stephin Merritt. Personally, I'm not bothered, as the songs are all top notch, and the beats were never much of a draw for me in the first place. Still, if they were a draw for you before, or you got sucked in by "Nashville Parthenon" or the Lightning Seedsesque fills in "Scattered Pearls," fret not; if the Town Topic EP (the stop-gap movie soundtrack released a few months ago) is any indication, Owen's still got some dancing left in him.

The Downside:

While Mr. Ashworth's voice is unquestionably deep, it's not what I'd call robust, and there are multiple instances where his performance borders on sing-talk (not to Lou Reed levels, but regrettable none the less). The strange blend of club rhythms and introspective confessional is refreshingly off-beat, but also jarring and dissociative at times, so regressive listeners need not apply. The album is a bit front-loaded, and I usually only make it to the end every other listen (the later songs aren't bad, per se, but less instantly appealing, less caffeinated). Also, as is probably deducible from the band's name, there's a strong streak of melancholy that pervades every cranny of this album, so if you're feeling faint of spirit, best to take it in small doses, in brightly lit rooms.

Emperor X - Central Hug / Friendarmy / Fractal Dunes (And the Dreams that Resulted)

General Ratings:

Rating: 7
Breadth of Appeal: 4
Consistency of Quality: 6

RIYL: early Modest Mouse, The Dismemberment Plan, The Microphones

Further Listening: Electric President, The Cadets, Tres Camisados

Place of Origin: Jacksonville, FL

Instrument/Sounds List: electric and acoustic guitar, synthesizers, drums, drum machine, multi-tracked vocals, bass, hand claps, jingling keys, whistling, laptop blips, found recordings, (a probably synthesized) harpsichord

Mood Tones: Sunrise approaches and you’ve allowed your bedtime to slip later and later and you’re considering staying up all day in order to reset.

Song Highlights: Raytrancer, Edgeless, Right to the Rails

Favorite Lyrics:

“That’s fine, I’m going home to fail.” (from Raytrancer)

“And all five hundred thousand citizens of Wichita /
tried to get a piece of your beautiful face, /
drooling on themselves in the Methodist parking lots. /
Throw your shoes in the Arkansas and watch ‘em get erased."

and

"Is there no community college in your county?” (from The Citizens of Wichita)


Other Thoughts:

Chad Matheny has been involved with The Cadets, Tres Camisados, Thee Harmonious Fists, Beatcancel, and Neosporin (though the latter three don’t have much of an internet presence). His solo project, Emperor X, is by far the most interesting (and widely known) of these. It’s clear that he knows his way around a four/eight-track, but one imagines too that he’s the sort of musician that could fall into a two-hour conversation about his bag of effects pedals. In combination, these characteristics lead to a surprising complexity and depth of sound for a (non-Pro-Tools) homemade recording. The album has a steady aesthetic conjoining lo-fi with high-tech, but throws all kinds of songs at you (despite the title, it is an album, not a collection of EPs). There are punkers in “Shut Shut Up” and “Right to the Rails,” which ends with Matheny shouting “go” over a hundred times in forty seconds. “Sfearion” is a song to either drive or advertise cars to (let’s not talk here about whether these feelings are distinguishable). And “Raytrancer,” “The Citizens of Wichita,” and “Ainseley” are really just sweet little ballads dressed up in more or less electronic gadgetry.

The Downside:

If you find Isaac Brock’s less polished moments, Travis Morrison’s use of a-melodic verses to sell his choruses, or Phil Elvrum’s fascination with manipulating stretches of static off-putting, this probably isn’t for you. Matheny’s voice is both nasal and cutting, and he revels in it, pushing it to the breaking point in the “go”s and “shut shut up”s of the opening tracks and into a caustic screech on “Use Your Hands.” But there’s something fascinating in his multi-tracking of his own bad voice, a production tactic usually reserved for the Chan Marshalls of the world.

[Bonus points: On The Cadets’ “Gville as Rare Factions,” is that Bill Callahan singing?]

Dent May and His Magnificent Ukulele - The Good Feeling Music Of

General Ratings:

Music: 6
Lyrics: 7
Scope: 2
Consistency: 8

RIYL: Burt Bacharach, The Magnetic Fields, Jonathan Richman

Further Listening: Petty & Booka, Herman Dune, Milo Jones

Place of Origin: Taylor, MS

Instrument/Sounds List: Ukulele (of course), multi-tracked vocals, bass, drums, alternative percussion (tambourine, junk bag, finger snaps), lap steel, trumpet, trombone, tuba, violin, electric & acoustic guitar .

Mood Tones:

Season: Summer
Weather: Hot & Humid
Time of Day: Afternoon

Song Highlights: God Loves You Michael Chang, You Can't Force a Dance Party, College Town Boy

Favorite Lyrics:

"All the way from Brooklyn, Sally came to see me/
'I'll throw you a party,' I gave my guarantee,/
But Michael's far too drunk, he's watching YouTube videos,/
And I'll be in the corner, reading poetry and prose."

(from You Can't Force a Dance Party)

"Since Graduation Day he feels like a fraud/
He still regrets he never studied abroad/
He's never been to Paris, never to Prague/
Oh my God!"

(from College Town Boy)

" 'No, I'm only hanging here/
Until Grad School,' he swore/
Oh, he's lived all over this town/
He's worked in every store.
There must be something in the water here/
There must be something in the beer."

(from College Town Boy)

Other Thoughts:

This record is a bit of a Bon Bon. The picture of Dent May on the cover of The Good Feeling Music Of makes him look like Neil Hamburger's younger, slightly better looking cousin, and that sentiment may not be entirely out of place. There is a nigh-unimpregnable veneer of irony that coats pretty much every song on TGFMO, and depending on how its distinct blend of sarcasm and schmaltz hits you, you'll either love or hate this album (my guess is that 7 out of 10 people who hear the first song won't make it to the second). Mr. May is mostly a first-person narrator, regaling us with stories of downtrodden commiserants (cf. Howard, College Town Boy, God Loves you Michael Chang) and personal shortcomings (cf. Girls on the Square, You Can't Force a Dance Party, I'm an Alcoholic) that are both blunt and (to my taste) hilarious. Perhaps more aptly put: if the fact that you can't incite drunken Southerners to dance on cue doesn't strike you as funny, true or songworthy, you might as well stop reading this review now.

With regards to the music, for an album that at first blush sounds as exotic as this, the recipe is surprisingly simple. The only instruments on every track are the ukulele, bass and drums. The interplay between the ukulele and the bass in particular is what really sells the tropical mood, and I was amazed to realize that he only uses a guitar twice, once an electric, once an acoustic. The lap steel makes several appearances, reminding you that it was originally a Hawaiian instrument before it was co-opted by Nashville, and the few other instruments you'll hear are used mostly for backdrop. Simple instrumentation doesn't necessarily mean boring songs though, and I'd wager you'd be surprised how many of the melodies you could recall after your first listen.

There are a handful of musicians making music today (like Owen Ashworth and John Darnielle to name two) that seem to have a lock on my particular subset of the population, namely over-educated, under-employed 20-something slackers, and one of the biggest impressions that this record leaves is that Mr. May knows this demographic and its excentricities very well. By most accounts, I am the eponymous College Town Boy. The Girls on the Square do make me blue. A guy I ride the train with every day may actually be Howard. However outlandish his humor, Mr. May always takes care to ground his narratives with well-drawn, accurate details, and it's probably these tiny moments of recognition, strewn throughout the album, that grant it whatever substance it has.

The Downside:

If you've just about had it up to here with irony for irony's sake (and I wouldn't blame you), this record is not for you. If you are not feeling particularly indulgent, this record is not for you. If multiple layers of falsetto backing vocals sound like so many nails on a chalkboard to you, guess what?

Being that this record practically screams to not be taken seriously, the two or three cuts that approximate love songs feel pretty vacant, excepting for the melody on 26 Miles, which is top notch. What I said about repeat listens in the Headlights review, take that and double it for TGFMO. Be sure to have your pet spayed or neutered. Goodnight, America.

Headlights - Some Racing, Some Stopping

General Ratings:

Music: 6
Lyrics: 5
Scope: 4
Consistency: 6

RIYL: Camera Obscura, The Concretes, Figure 8 era Elliott Smith

Further Listening: The Sarah Records Catalogue, Pelle Carlberg, The Dimes

Place of Origin: Champaign, IL

Instrument/Sounds List: Electric guitar, keyboard/organ, bass, drums, glockenspiel, male/female vocals, acoustic guitar, background strings and horns, singing saw, accordion, hand claps, tambourine, jingle bells.

Mood Tones:

Season: Spring
Weather: Sunny
Time of Day: Late Afternoon

Song Highlights: Cherry Tulips, On April 2, Get Your Head Around It

Favorite Lyrics:

"The window sills, they frame your view /
And your friends have their opinions too, /
I'm sure they'll pass them on to you /
For good measure." (from On April 2)

"The salt on your cheek /
Is just like the sea /
But not as deep." (from Catch Them All)

"Those soft little tunes you sung, /
Come back sometimes in your native tongue. /
September came around again, /
A year older at Summer's end." (from January)

Other Thoughts:

What exactly does the adjective "sunny" mean when applied to pop music? For starters, probably clean production, especially when it comes to guitar and vocal filters. If your singer is a man, hopefully he's a tenor, if she's a woman, hopefully she's an alto, and you get bonus points if you've got one of each. A Keyboard or two won't hurt, provided that we can get specific about them being of light tonality (e.g. the addition of Farfisa or Wurlitzer to a song does nothing to lighten its tone), let's say a Hammond or a Casiotone (with an appropriate setting of course). The drums should probably keep simple, marching beats and the bass should be played more up tempo, preferably on the smaller strings. The melodies must be kept in major keys and hopefully come with harmonies on fifth notes. Throw in some hand claps, tambourine and glockenspiel to round out the effort, et voila, "sunny" is what you have.

And don't be surprised if what you've put together at home sounds a lot like Headlights, as all of the descriptors above apply. Probing a bit deeper, there's an interesting undercurrent of surf music, most notable when an appropriately pedaled guitar shares the melody with the keyboard, and the backing vocals are processed with an echo chamber-like effect. They seem to be well aware of this, and often pair the aforementioned effect with references to water (cf. in the choruses to Cherry Tulips ("I want the sea") and Catch Them All ("Don't swim in that water tonight")). But this is an undertone, and only one of the tricks in their production bag, which also boasts excellent interplay between Erin Fein and Tristan Wraight, the band's two vocalists, the use of glockenspiel as an actual carrier of melody (instead of as an accent or part of a backdrop), pitch-shifting violin and (from what I can tell) singing saw.

It also bears noting, in the interest of full disclosure, that there are a handful of moments on this record that buck the general trend. The most noteworthy among these being the last song, January, which is the only truly melancholy piece in the entire album. The title track is perhaps too slow and quiet to be considered summer-like, and the opener "Get Your Head Around It" eventually builds itself into the aforementioned mold, starting originally in a minor key with a simple guitar line. These exceptions aside, my suggestion to the more Seasonally Affected among us is this: put Some Racing, Some Stopping in between Camera Obscura's Let's Get Out of This Country and Saturday Looks Good To Me's All Your Summer Songs in the CD changer and think your way to May.

The Downside:

Music this easy to enjoy often can feel syrupy when taken in too large a dose, and while the album only plays for a little over half an hour, I wouldn't advise listening to it multiple times on end. The simplicity that begets the music's catchiness also extends to the lyrics, which while never embarassing, don't offer much to close reading. Tristan Wraight, the male vocalist, sounds an awful lot like a young Elliott Smith, meaning his voice will evoke nostalgia to those weaned on XO and Figure 8, and probably sound a bit thin to those who weren't.

Radical Face - Ghost

General Ratings:

Music: 7
Lyrics: 6
Scope: 5
Consistency: 7

RIYL: Sparklehorse, The Microphones, recent Sigur Rós

Further Listening: Electric President, Castanets, Okay

Place of Origin: Jacksonville, FL

Instrument/Sounds List: Acoustic & electric guitar, piano (prepared & plucked), multi-tracked vocals, alternative percussion (hand claps & foot stomps), ambient sounds, synthesizer/keyboard, banjo, accordion, chimes, vibraphone, violin, harmonium, bass, whistling, effects/tape manipulation.

Mood Tones:

Season: Winter
Weather: Windy
Time of Day: Night

Song Highlights: Welcome Home Son, Glory, Homesick

Favorite Lyrics:

"I sank into the sea/
Wrapped in piano strings./
Few words could open me,/
But you knew them all." (from Wrapped in Piano Strings)

"If blood is thicker than water/
Then let the river in,/
We might drift away,/
But we've got thick skin." (from Let the River In)

"You wear the moon like a halo/
You wear the night like it's your coat." (from Haunted)

Other Thoughts:

Ben Cooper sure likes to keep himself busy. Besides being all aspects of Radical Face, he is 1/2 of the bands Electric President, Iron Orchestra, Mother's Basement & Clone (although only the first 2 have released proper albums). He also appears to be a proficient graphic designer, as all of these groups have well-designed if sporadically-maintained websites (accessible from the main Radical Face page that you can get to by clicking the post title). With such an eye for aesthtics and attention to detail, it should come as no surprise how deeply you can delve into Ghost on repeat listens.

A word about production and its interplay with theme. According to a secondhand source, Ghost is a concept album about spending a year living inside a haunted house. While there's nothing explicitly linking the songs together (other than the eerie mood that nearly all of them evoke), once the idea has been put in your ear, it becomes difficult not to hear it everywhere. He samples field recordings quite liberally and I'm pressed to think of any song on the album that doesn't see the benefit of found sounds. Floorboards creak, children laugh, wind chimes sway; each one an effective atmospheric, if not particularly original. What is original is the way he manipulates his recordings of prepared piano and pairs the manipulations with high-pitched string synthesizers to give the music a dream-like, almost aquatic tone, often mirrored by the presence of bodies of water in the lyrics (c.f Let the River In, Along the Road). Also, the almost entirely corporeal percussion on this album, cutting in and out for punctuation, draws attention to a hollow quality in the production that really sells the conceit nicely.

The Downside:

Mr. Cooper's voice is a high tenor and rather nasal, much in keeping with a trend in indie folk music (e.g. Ray Raposa, Phil Elv(e)rum, John Darnielle, etc.), but perhaps a deal breaker if that sort of thing bothers you. Depending on how the idea of concept albums in general and one whose subject is a haunted house in specific hit you, the near uniformity of mood and subject matter may make this a love-it-or-hate-it kind of an album. The lyrics, while mostly pretty good, don't have many hard lines and seem to find their purpose mostly in reflecting the content of the music. To a less-charitable listener, this may seem ephemeral. But before anyone judges this record too harshly, my suggestion would be to put it on, turn out the lights, wrap yourself up in a blanket and see where it doesn't take you.

Seabear - The Ghost That Carried Us Away

General Ratings:

Music: 7
Lyrics: 4
Scope: 5
Consistency: 5

RIYL: Sufjan Stevens, Belle & Sebastian, recent Iron & Wine

Further Listening: Sin Fang Bous, The Twin Atlas, Amiina

Place of Origin: Reykjavik, Iceland

Instrument/Sounds List: Acoustic guitar, piano, multi-tracked vocals, violin/fiddle, harmonica, banjo, lap steel, upright bass, drums, electric guitar, trombone, tambourine, organ, flugelhorn, synthesizer, ukulele, glockenspiel, vibraphone, tape manipulation, ambient sounds (including owl hoots and fireworks).

Mood Tones:

Season: Spring
Weather: Sunny
Time of Day: Afternoon

Song Highlights: I Sing I Swim, Owl Waltz, Arms

Favorite Lyrics:

"Some Nights I swore/
Your mouth/
Was a trap door." (from Owl Waltz)

"Shake my arms, shake my head/
I fell asleep in your cobweb." (from Arms)

"I love the way you say my name/
It sounds different every day." (from Lost Watch)

Other Thoughts:

Seabear began as the home recordings of Sindri Már Sigfússon, who released several records (c.f. I'm Me on Sundays, The Singing Arc EP) before expanding Seabear into a collective (8 people strong as of the writing of this review) and shifting its focus from bare bones, lo-fi recordings to polished, orchestral pop music (and having done so, now has taken the moniker Sin Fang Bous for his solo output, which has come to resemble the poppier side of Animal Collective). One gets the sense that every instrument in their studio space is on the record at least once, and as is probably implied by the swollen instrument list, there's a layering and a fullness of production to nearly every track on the album. In fact, it's in the piecing apart of each melody into its composite parts that the greatest pleasures of this record reside.

Also, here finally is an Icelandic band that can't be described as "glacial." On the contrary, nearly ever song on TGTCUA is sunny and upbeat if not necessarily up tempo. Wistful tones abound. Pretty melodies come cheap. This record, like Virginia, is for lovers. Underneath this veneer though, there's an interesting war being fought between SS's blossoming inner folkie (best exemplified in the song Arms, slightly less so in Seashell) and the weirder, deconstructive impulses that his songwriting was birthed with. Most of the latter is buried toward the end of the album, and approximates a kind of gradual shift in mood that the romantic in me would liken to the setting of the sun.

The Downside:

As is the case with any album that finds its purpose in baroque layering, the simpler, sparser cuts (like Summer Bird Diamond) tend to come off as half-baked. The instrumental first track feels perfunctory (and I'm a sucker for intrumental openers and closers), especially considering how nice an opener Cat Piano would have been. The lyrics frequently rely on stock images of wild animals and oft-used emotional phrases, but as the record definitely evokes the pastoral, and English isn't Mr. Sigfússon's first language, I'm inclined to let that particular peccadillo slide.

Parker & Lily - The Low Lows

General Ratings:

Music: 7
Lyrics: 4
Scope: 4
Consistency: 7

RIYL: Galaxie 500, Yo La Tengo, My Morning Jacket

Further Listening: The Low Lows, Valentine 6, Beach House

Place of Origin: New York City, NY

Instrument/Sounds List: Electric Guitar, Keyboard/Organ, Drums, Drum Machine, Bass, Reverb, Vibraphone, Acoustic Guitar, Lap Steel, Moog, Glockenspiel, Background Horns & Strings, Ambient Sounds

Mood Tones:

Season: Winter
Weather: Clear
Time of Day: Evening

Song Highlights: June Gloom, Suit of Fire, The Low Lows

Favorite Lyrics:

"Candy's Kiss is a red weal/
Slow slip & sweet spill." (from Candy's Last Day)

"Bar light, bar bright,/
First bar I see tonight,/
Wish I might sleep tight." (from June Gloom)

"This suit of fire/
Is cut entirely/
From my desire." (from Suit of Fire)

Other Thoughts:

First, some background information: Parker Noon and Lily Wolfe met each other playing in the band Valentine 6, recorded one album, got married, moved to New York, cut three albums under the name Parker & Lily (the last of which being The Low Lows) and got divorced. Parker has continued to record with the rest of the backing band from their last sessions as The Low Lows, and has released two albums to date (the better of the 2, Shining Violence, should be the next stopping point for anyone who enjoys this record). By most accounts, it was the recording of this album that was the straw that broke the marriage's back.

For being a break-up record, excepting the occasional dig, there isn't as much anger here as one would expect. Instead, most of the album feels meticulously balanced; the guitars clang and distort but the organs smooth over the rough edges and with run-times mostly between 4 and 5 minutes, the songs never seem hurried or agitated. While I wouldn't call this a concept record, it regularly evokes a singular mood, namely cool resignation, and it would fit nicely in the CD changer between Yo La Tengo's And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out and Beach House's Devotion.

The Downside:

The lyrics, while nothing special, look a lot worse in print than they sound when sung, and I was surprised when going over them for this review how unimpressive they read vs. the vague but more favorable impression I had from passive listening. Mr. Noon's voice has a nasal quality, which has never bothered me, but I could see being a bigger deal to people more accustomed to traditionally pretty vocals. Also, especially when played at low volumes, the record has a somnolescence that to a less energetic listener may prove contagious. That's not necessarily a bad thing though, is it?