|
|
|
![]() |
|
|
CD Reviews A-E | F-J | K-O | P-T | U-Z Reviews F-J F G H I J ___________________________________________________
Faces on Film
Boston’s reputation as a place for innovative, experimental new music
has just been reinforced by Faces on Film’s debut EP, Seven Sisters.
Clocking in at just under a half hour, the five tracks of the album
offer a solid sample of FOF’s musical style. Fronted by vocalist and
guitarist Mike Fiore, and accompanied by Dave Hinckley on bass, Ted
Gallagher on guitar, and Peter Schaefer on drums, FOF produce a form of
music somewhere between the Pixies and Modest Mouse. Comparisons to
Modest Mouse are particularly applicable to Fiore’s vocal style; over
the five tracks he grunts, shouts, and mumbles his way over FOF’s
plodding rhythms and eerie background harmonies, panting into silence
before spastically roaring back to a spike of full energy. While not
exactly music that can be characterized as radio friendly, FOF
nonetheless bring a harder edge to the contemporary Boston rock-scene
sound as exemplified by bands such as Night Rally and the Clickers.
Stand-out tracks from the album include “Makers of Medicine” and
“Beginners,” both of which can be heard on the band’s website at
www.facesonfilm.com. And on a peripheral note, if the music doesn’t
sound as if it appeals to you, then the artwork at least should
definitely be seen. Produced by Boston area artist and Helms musician
Dan McCarthy, his album covers and online posters offer a fresh,
pop-art inspired feel and can be seen at
www.danmccarthy.org
The Fades London-based do-it-yourselfers The Fades claim to be inspired by the spirit of grunge, but their eponymous-titled debut album places them squarely in the Reagan-era LA punk scene that gave birth to X and later, the tight riffs of early Motley Crue. Indeed, this is where the problem lies with this ten-song, thirty minute, blast of pop-punk energy; they haven’t found their footing yet. Uneven to say the least, the album skips back and forth between reasonable approximations of Velvet Revolver outtakes like “Buzzin” and “CaCa” and (how’s this for a segue?) caca like the dippity-do pop-punk of “Music is Killing Me”, in which lead singer Dave Lightfoot croons “This scene is over / Is over now.” Yes, we’ve gathered that, so why are you still singing about it? Still, for every similar track to (shiver) Andrew WK or Blink 182, The Fades does have its moments, sometimes recalling Cooper Temple Clause and garage-rockers Kings of Leon in a comparatively favourable light. www.dirrtyrecords.com - John Tracey
Toronto-based punk group the Fallout are three guys who play about the same number of chords, according to their label’s website, the only place it seems you can find any info on these guys (the news on their own website, www.thefallout.ca, looks like it hasn’t been updated since early last year). On Dismantlement, the band’s third LP but first release on Insurgence Records, they do good things with these three chords. It’s simple, straightforward punk that reminds you of the genre’s good old days - of bands like the DOA, the Clash and Stiff Little Fingers. It’s got a touch of hardcore thrown in, but none of the pretentious attitude. They even sing about stuff like community radio. This is straight dope without any of the hyped up packaging. But I guess that’s the sound that comes with years of unrecognized toil in the punk trenches. - James Sandham
High Expectations/Low Results is the debut CD from Edmonton’s
atmospherock quartet Faunts. The title is also probably one of the best
descriptions of the CD. Having shared the stage in the past with
current buzz bands like Broken Social Scene, Stars, and Do Make Say
Think, there certainly are great expectations surrounding Faunts; but
this album of fuzzing, droning soundscapes makes you wonder why.
Perhaps that’s a biased assessment. Too much buzz can be just as
detrimental as helpful to a band. A more articulate – if no less
biased – descriptions of Faunts’ work is provided with their press
info, and this too seems to accurately sum up their sound: “Their
remarkably assured debut album weaves together shimmering walls of pink
noise with dreamy, languorous guitar, gently treated vocals, and
swimmingly beautiful melodies”… and there you have it. This is
take-off music for your trip to the astral plane… the soundtrack to
“Memories of Places We’ve Never Been,” to quote the group’s second
song title. So strap on the headphones, tune in, turn on, and drop out.
Favourite Sons
Brooklyn’s Favourite Sons may have made one of the most earnest rock albums of the year in Down Beside Your Beauty, crafting anthemic torch-burners and heavy jangle-pop gems schooled at the DeVry Institute of Echo & the Bunnymen. Like sometime tour-mates The Stills, Dublin-born Ken Griffin and co are not afraid to wear their (heart-wrenching) emotions on their sleeve. And hailing from that most hip of NYC’s boroughs, that’s no small feat. Griffin, ex-singer and songwriter from ‘90s art rockers Rollerskate Skinny, veers perilously close to Strokes-ian mimicry (see the fate of fellow New Yorkers Elefant) with his too-cool-for-school Julian Casablancas delivery in opening track “When You’re Away From Me”; luckily the song itself is strong enough to weather the “So 2002!” comparisons the vocals will no doubt receive. Most of the other tracks fare better: “Hang On, Girl” is a thundering ode to loneliness, while “No One Ever Dies Young” lifts Joy Division’s “Dead Souls” riff and builds from there. “Tear the Room Apart” could be a cover of the Magnetic Fields, minus the electro-wizardry, and the loping country-ballad “Pistols & Girls” is a perfect sing-along to end off a night at your local pub. It’s not without its pitfalls, however. Duds like title track “Down Beside Your Beauty” and the belaboured “Walking Here” could have been culled from The Tea Party’s back catalogue (a harsh assessment, I know, but fair). All in all, though, a solid effort worth picking up. - John Tracey
back
to top Last Man on Earth, the new disc by New York City’s
Feathermerchants, can best be described as haunting and beautiful. The
five piece group, led by Shannon Kennedy’s calm, mellow vocals, has
garnered quite a following since their first underground hit CD,
Unarmed Against the Dark. And it’s not just the band’s loyal fans
that have provided the biggest support. You know you’re on your way
when major mags like People and Cosmopolitan, as well as various music
publications, have taken notice of what you have to offer. After earning a nomination for best folk
Singer/Songwriter at the 2003 International Independent Music Awards
for her solo album “Face,” Tara Rice is back, and this time as front
woman for her latest endeavor, 5TH Project. From the southland of North Carolina, Fighting
Instinct rip onto the international scene with an angry, petulant
little debut of a CD. Drawing strong comparisons to Alice in Chains –
evident in their opening track, “I Found Forever,” and frontman T.J.
Harris’ aesthetics in particular – Fighting Instinct are certainly
liable to be dismissed as grunge-era revival. Driving, guitar-heavy
songs characterize much of this album. Comparisons to Puddle of Mudd
are also particularly apt. Unfortunately for them, they do little to
dispel such liabilities. This threesome rarely stray from the tried and
true grunge formula, occasionally mixing it up with less familiar,
Southern-rock chord patterns, but generally rehashing a decade’s worth
of inarticulate angst, anger, and grubby clothing. But just because
Pearl Jam’s latest offering was worthwhile doesn’t mean the whole
genre needs to be resurrected. On the other hand, if there’s one thing
these guys do have going for them, it’s a whole album ready to head
straight for the radio. Listen for them on blue-collar rock stations
sandwiched between Nickelback cuts.
If this is what I get at Film School, sign me up.
Sometimes gloomy sometimes pop, sometimes both. I learned at School
that sometimes the best execution is to combine more than one medium to
recharge gloomy senses to pop. www.beggarsgroupsa.com - Heather Rayment back to top
A&R: Hi Finger Eleven, come on in. Listen guys, I’ve been meaning to talk to you for quite some time. I know “One Thing” made you a lot of money, but let’s be honest it’s not going to last for ever. How would you like to make a lot more money? Finger Eleven: Well sure boss. That’d be swell. A&R: Great. For the new album I’d like you to write about 12 songs of balls-out generic bland Canadian rock. The kind of stuff that is hard enough to get played on The Edge but not so hard that girls won’t want to dance to it. Throw in some falsetto quadruple tracked singing for good measure and don’t forget to keep things forgettable and derivative. Think Creed, Nickelback etc. Finger Eleven: Well what about the lyrics? Should they be original and innovative or at least poetic? A&R: Uh, barf. No way. Try and limit yourself to mundane and clichéd topics. Going to the club, suicidal but not honestly suicidal thoughts, breakups, feeling cornered or alone, “finding yourself”. Oh and try and keep it as colloquial as possible. The kind of stuff you’d say to your friends. Hey its worked wonders for Wyclef Jean right?
Finger Eleven: You mean like: “This club will hopefully/Be closed in
three weeks/That would be cool with me”?
Finger Eleven: What’s that? - Sam Stilson
back
to top
Kill the lights, listen to the newest EP from Toronto’s own First Time
Fallen and kick yourself for not listening to this album sooner. Their
2005 release “Your Vietnam” is a follow up to the success of their
’04 release “The Spectacular View From the Ground to the Sky”
(Independent) which earned them both radio play and the ever-coveted
‘buzz band’ designation among Toronto’s mainstream gate-keepers. back to top The Flaming Lips At War With The Mystics Warner Bros.
I have this odd feeling that something happens to
a band once they sell their souls to hock products for the kind of
large corporation that possesses the power to turn the once raw and
inspired into fodder for “Sally Housecoat” and her book club cronies.
Something has happened to The Flaming Lips – or perhaps something has
not happened to The Flaming Lips and this is the problem with their
highly anticipated new release At War with the Mystics. Their 2002
album Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots under the production of Dave
Fridmann proved that the band’s musical pallate had the ability to
expand and explore past the relative chart success of “She Don’t Use
Jelly”. But rather prophetically, it seems that Yoshimi may have let
the Robots beat the creativity and musical adventourousness of The
Flaming Lips.
Flashlight Brown
Toronto-based punk outfit Flashlight Brown do angry, Weezer-inspired high school reject rock and roll. Fuelled by sarcasm and ennui, their end product – in this case, Blue, their sixth release – is a thundering collection of thirteen simple but catchy guitar-driven tracks that thankfully steers clear of taking itself too seriously. Vocals by Fil Bucchino and self-proclaimed “classic nerd” Matt Hughes power this album and provide its distinctive, middle-class punk character. The band’s pop-punk cred is further reinforced by tours with All American Rejects and Sum 41, and a DIY ethos that includes creating their own fictitious booking agency just to score some initial gigs. Solid after school special music with an ironic edge by a group of guys not too proud to admit “there’s nothing sexy about us.” www.myspace.com/flashlightbrown - James Sandham
The first thing my girlfriend said when I put this record on was “Oh God, not more of this. Can’t you just turn it off? You already know what it’s going to be like. It’s a cross between NOFX and Hedley.” And she was absolutely right, only I didn’t believer her, and subsequently I’ve lost nearly forty minutes of my life to the Flatliners and their carefully crafted edgy-but-not-too-edgy-for-Much Music punk that I’ll never get back. All things said and done though, the Flatliners do know how make a catchy tune (“Eulogy”, for example) and you can tell these guys are gonna catch on with the angry adolescent set. Roared, anthemic choruses - you can practically feel the spit hitting your face from vocal triple threat Jon Darbey, Chris Cresswell and Scott Brigham. Paul Ramirez rounds things out with a hard-driving percussion section that can’t help but grip you. Songs like “This Respirator” break things down with a bit of a ska influence a la Rancid. They pretty much have the whole punk package down. And it is catchy. So you gotta hand it to them for that. - James Sandham
The Flesh
Being compared to The Pretenders and the Pixies are no easy feats since those are pretty big shoes to fill but Brooklyn/Philly-bred band The Flesh manage to pull it off on their album Firetower. As if sounding like those groups weren’t enough, the foursome have successfully cultivated their own sound and style, giving themselves a bit of an edge. The opening track “The Truant” is a Chrissie Hynde homage since the lead singer Gabriella Zappia manages to capture the sultry, pseudo-manliness of Hynde’s classic vocals. “World To Come” picks up the pace and offers a fine melody comprised of banging drums, electric guitar twangings and harmonious singing talent. “In Paradise” carries a slight Middle Eastern feel while “Compulsion” harbors a sexy dark theme pulling you into its panged lovelorn lyrics. “Justice” makes use of some haunting violins to go with Zappia’s chilling vocals. Her scornful voice mixes well with every song on the record, particularly the bass-thumping saxophone-musings of “Loyale.” If you like the punk-pop-dance past of Blondie and The Pretenders mixed with a little modern zest, then check out this pick. -Antoinette Mercurio
Forty Birds’ album, Shotgun Therapy, tells an epic journey in the way that only a cheesy metal band can tell with distorted and wah wah influenced metal ripping through a new wave wall of sound. They are clearly influenced by several styles of new metal, including guitar licks that wish they were just a little more like Metallica. In order to be appear dark and brutal, their vocalist sings about pain and suffering. When played through a medium of high-energy metal-pop-rock, the low grind of Matthew Pelletier’s screaming vocal style is reinforced by morbid apocalyptic lyrics, and juxtaposed constantly by smooth pop harmonies. Shotgun Therapy, as an album, bursts into flight. Immediately they promise complicated and high stamina music. Though the album reaches a solemn midpoint, building that back up into a fiery spunky finish makes it a true album that provides what the first track promises in style. - Gideon Greenbaum-Shinder
back
to top An eclectic mix of sweet melodies, strange sound
effects, and hopeful lyrics soothe the soul in The Foundry Field
Recordings’ Prompts/Miscues. The Columbia, Missouri based indie-rock
band spent 36 months crafting their latest album, FFR’s third release
after a 7” single and their 2003 debut EP, Fathers as Robots. The
album fights through a long, tedious introduction in “Battle Brigades
Part I “and finds its spirit to become catchy and beautiful- without
ever losing its abstract edge. In looking up the definition of Alt-Country on the
internet I found that there is no tried and true description.
Originally conceived of in the early 80’s and known as ‘Americana’
or ‘CowPunk’, Alt-Country (as it is now known) is just another
classification of rock n’ roll, incorporating elements of country as
well as bluegrass, folk and many other similar genres. On their 3rd
full length album The Foxymorons make it clear that they have a good
grasp of what the genre is all about. Catchy riffs and excellent
harmonies make this a solid listen from front to back. Following in the
footsteps of Alt-Country mainstays Wilco, Whiskeytown, and Uncle
Tupelo, Hesitation Eyes doesn’t stray far from the formula. Focusing
mainly on the theme of love, mostly unrequited, tracks like “I’m
Still in Love” and “This Heart of Mine” let the band show their
range. The former uses simple piano and drums with nice harmonies to
set the tone, before bringing in the distorted guitar to take the song
to the next level. On the latter the great harmonies are supported by a
simple but catchy banjo backing. There is something to be said for a
record when, on the first listen, you can anticipate where the songs
are going and happily go there with the band. The Foxymorons will never
be accused of trying to re-invent the wheel. But they sure do make it
spin real nice.
Fox Jaws Barrie, Ontario’s Fox Jaws, formerly known as Doris, is fresh out of the gate with this fantastic debut. Goodbye Doris is full of some very well crafted ambient pop rock. These guys pull off some excellent boy/girl vocal harmonies and duets to a massive effect. Vocals are sweet, soaring, and only sometimes raunchy and overdriven, yet always impassioned. Goodbye Doris full of richly textured and orchestrated songs, and along with the lyrics, it is ever evocative of the greater Canadian experience. Strong and varied percussion holds most of the album together, leaving the guitars to create large echoing sounds that sweep across the speakers and build upon the rhythm. Though young, this band has fast become masterful of their craft, creating massive soundscapes ranging from the roots-ier ‘Karmonica’ to the vaguely psychedelic ‘Forging a Truce’. Comparisons to Broken Social Scene can certainly be made – the size of this band’s soundscape is at times that large, and their tasteful use of multiple instrumentation could soon put them at the forefront of Canadian music. -Jesse Kline
back
to top There is an old Irish proverb that says, “It takes time to build castles.” Dublin, Ireland’s The Frames have just lowered the drawbridge on their castle. The bands latest effort and sixth full length to date, The Cost, is sure to introduce you to one of the best bands you don’t already know. For an established band (they’ve been creating music since 1990) their latest album is a step forward. With keyboard layered indie-rock and violin backed pop songs, each track offers the listener something new. The Frames music is slightly reminiscent of the rock elements found in Damien Rice’s work and carries a vintage nineties sound. The band clearly hasn’t forgotten its routes. On the track “Sad Songs” lead singer Glen Hansard says “And the price of fame/is that they love you when you’re gone.” A standout track on the album “Sad Songs” deals a heavy dose of imagery in the lyrics. Another standout track and hidden gem is “True.” It’s gentle acoustic and vocals written from the depth of despair weave within its tale of martyrdom. The female backing vocals are broken with a sullen scream, ending the song. The albums catchy hooks and violin highlights make it just interesting enough not to slip between the cracks of today’s modern disdain for standard folk-rock. Hansard’s drawl and use of clever rhetoric brings to mind crooner Jake Bellows of Neva Dinova. The Frames prove they come to make music, whether or not anyone is listening. I suggest you listen. – Andrew Seale
back
to top This album, the sixteenth for Fred and “Fredheads”
alike, is filled with lazy-summer songs for equally slow days and
nights. Each song is filled with honeyed emotion, simplicity and wisdom
gleaned from the bottom of the barrel, as Eaglesmith believes is the
place all of life’s answers come from. It’s true; when has anyone
ever learned anything while at the top of their game. It is only until
we drink our fortune away; lose our children and/or our jobs that we
scramble for the rung upwards after “seeing the light”. Fred J
Eaglesmith sings with this wisdom, holding out a tune in lieu of a
helping hand. Fred J Eaglemsith is something of a legend, what with the
Juno he won for Best Roots and Traditional Album, as well as winning
the Canadian Independent Music Award. Listening to Milly’s Café, an
album filled with dusty tales of sorrow, love, loneliness, drunken
cowboys and traveling the open road, one hears the loudest resounding
theme in all of Eaglesmith’s work: alienation. Again, how could one
aspire to this man’s sage advice surrounded by fame and fortune, in a
setting like Hollywood?
Free Diamonds
Free Diamonds do a sort of semi-spastic geek rock that brims with its own kind of neurotic energy, most straightforwardly manifest in singer Scott Andersen vocals. It can get a little screechy at times - not screamo screechy; more like Saved By the Bell’s Screech screechy (think Danielson’s Daniel Smith) - but this doesn’t mean it can’t be catchy and even kind of cool. Combine Andersen’s wacked-out, too much whiz vocals with the band’s other two members and you get an art-nerd post-punk hybrid that can incorporate elements of ska (“Midnight Rainbow” for example), Elvis Costello, or the Ramones, but generally just charts its own way into musical mayhem. Probably most closely comparable to groups like Ima Robot, Free Diamonds are the kind of group you either love or hate. Extremes like this leave no room for middle ground. James Sandham
Frog
Eyes
back
to top
If you can get past their crude name, you'll soon
find yourself caught up in the brash, raw, lyrical delivery of this
retro hardcore punk band.
Future Native
Typical soft rock has been around as long as there have been guitars and someone with an urge for writing uplifting lyrics has. Easy-listening Australian band Future Native should be written into the dictionary under generic, if not already there. Listening to what the “future” of rock music is going to be like one can’t help but feel that Future Native should have been named Uber Uncreative. From the first acoustic chord to the last cliché lyric Future Native offers up little more than dental office music. The album ends the same as it begins; on a light note. As the album progresses the sound sways very little from the sound of the first track. With each new song you get the feeling that the repeat button has been somehow turned on. Future Native is offering easy listening instrumentals with lyrics that couldn’t emotionally charge even the most sensitive of people. I would recommend this album to kindergarten teachers and those who drive Caravans. http://www.myspace.com/futurenatives -Phil Kedrosky
Gabby Glaser
Luscious Jackson co-founder Gabby Glaser’s debut solo LP, Gimme Splash, is an album that opens with a promising, pseudo-psychedelic garage number, “Spirit of Long Island”. It’s a catchy, freewheeling and energetic track but, unfortunately, proves to be the exception on this album. The majority of the disc’s other songs, while not radically different from this powerful opener, leave the listener with a feeling that something is missing, giving the work a semi-amateur feel despite Glasser’s extensive past in the business of making music. They draw from the sound Glasser established during her Luscious Jackson days, a form of fused funk-electro-rock that, while pleasant, ultimately fails to leave much of an impression. “Fruit is Sweet” is a prime example: it’s a smooth little track with a pumping, fuzzed out bass beat, one that would likely be categorized as catchy if it weren’t so forgettable the moment the record stops. “Darling” suffers a similar fate, as if the potential of the song wasn’t quite capitalized on. At least the disc ends on a good note, with the Blur-eque “Sophisticated Gentleman.” - James Sandham
The Gallows
http://www.myspace.com/gallows - Sam Stilson
Gang Gang Dance
New York City-based Gang Gang Dance have released in Rawwar an eclectic EP of three tracks, just over twenty minutes long, and spanning genres like fusion’s about to go out of style. The first track, “Nicoman”, is a complete cultural mash-up, drawing influences from Arabic, Hindi, and traditional Peruvian folk music. It kind of sounds like M.I.A.’s “Galang” but mixed with a shot Delirium. It’s different and it’s good. The second track, “Oxygen Demo Riddim”, is more ambient, drawing from early house beats and slowly building into a good loop with catchy beats. The final piece of the puzzle, “the Earthquake that Frees Prisoners”, is described by Gang Gang Dance’s music label, the Social Registry, as “musique concrete” - I’d describe it as about three minutes of whale noises that suddenly breaks down into a bit of a freaked-out hip-hop vibe… or something like that. It’s crazy stuff. Hear for yourself at www.myspace.com/ganggangdance. -
James Sandham Gang Gang Dance In what seems to be an odd take on the tour film (though this is denied by The Social Registry's press), Gang Gang Dance have offered diehard fans a thick slice of what makes them a band without parallel on the (popular) indie scene. However, what makes GGD unparalleled and what makes them uniquely bold are two separate things. Even though much of the critical acclaim smeared so liberally across the NYC troupe is its unique hold on the experimental and pop worlds. Their previous full length, God's Money, knew when and where to emerge from industrially tribal rhythms with melody and glockenspiel in hand, Retina Riddim never comes up for air. The result is a thirty-some minute CD, a DVD that doubles that, and a poster, not to mention some not too shabby art rock sleeve design. As for the poster, let's just say that the poster is kind of interested, a submerged face on one side and a bunch of letters scrawled across the other, but being folded up into a CD case has pretty much removed it from wall space contention. The CD/DVD sleeve is also a somewhat interesting art rock artifact, but baby gorillas a good EP does not make. That usually falls to the music, though Gang Gang Dance place such a large premium on the 'art' in their rock that Retina Riddim is far more of an art piece encompassing everything from the packaging on up than simply a long experimental track. As for the DVD, perhaps the most cohesive aspect of this project, comes off as rather university in its method and style. Cutting jerkily from one image to another and repeating to match the audio, far too many similar projects have passed before my eyes, and since I doubt that I'll be sleeping with anyone from GGD, I don't have to automatically compliment this one. Too bad, because there's really not too much that aggravates on the two selections, band member Brian DeGrew's "Retina Riddim" and band friend Oliver Payne's "GGDbyOP." aside from the art school feel of the videos, they are an interesting take on the tour film, offering disorienting images that emphasize the sensory over the conscious experience, so it's a shame that the band and its label don't want this to be seen as a tour video. In terms of the DVD's audio, neither really compare to God's Money, coming off as industrial noise for the most part. Retina Riddim's final four minutes pretty much justify the whole project offering something lucid and sounding vaguely like it could belong on a Ninja Tunes release, but the twenty or so preceding minutes numb the listener's senses, preventing anything from sticking out too much, even with successive listens. Without the visuals of the DVD, the CD's Retina Riddim audio track is simply lost. Its clashing man vs nature tracts don't need video footage to be obvious, but they don't really add up to anything by themselves. Half way through, we're treated to some of the only works on the album, a loop of a man saying "push things forwards" (no, it's not Mike Skinner) followed by the man saying "destroy." It seems quite apparent that this is vocalizing the nature and the human civilization side of things, but in a way that leads at least this writer to believe that GGD either didn't trust the intelligence of their fans, hitting them over the head rather than letting them explore, or they weren't sure that the Retina Riddim project held upas one concise, fully thought out piece of art, which is doesn't. -Christopher Langer www.ganggangdance.com
Gary Flanagan Gary Flanagan reminds us at every corner of his newest release, Rhapsody in Black, that he hails from New Brunswick. Songs like “Saint John” and the huge coat of arms pictured on the back cover of this home-made CD repeatedly assert the origins of the quirky new-waver. The lyrics of each track reflect the typical and complex attitude of Canadians from the Atlantic Provinces: deep, soulful pride offset by grim disappointment. But at heart, this man more likely hails from another planet in the future where everyone dresses in black suits with white or neon accents and sunglasses at all times. Not to suggest that this record is silly - to the contrary, despite the dated sound of the album it seems Flanagan has made a concerted effort to land firmly on the 'sincere' side rather than the 'ironic' side of music. One wonders if this is one big joke, but Flanagan makes it clear both musically and lyrically that he speaks from the heart, and could be quite serious. Written, recorded and produced by Flanagan himself, Rhapsody in Black oozes reverb, tinny synthesizers, whisper-talk vocals and dead beats from a drum machine, with the occasional vocal contribution from Janelle Martin. But what makes this release special is the persistent and care-free tone that resonates throughout the album. On “I Walk Alone” Flanagan reminds his listeners of his independent spirit and his resilience. Flanagan walks alone in a tough town with a bleak landscape, and Rhapsody in Black is a bright, yet peculiar gem, located somewhere beneath its surface. http://garyflanaganwebsite.tripod.com/ -Kate Robertson
Get Cape. Wear Cape.
Fly. Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly - henceforth to be referred to simply as “Cape” - is the stage name of Essex, UK-based music prodigy Sam Duckworth. A mere twenty years of age, he hails from the same town as working-class music hero Billy Bragg, and follows in the same singer-songwriter tradition. The Chronicles of a Bohemian Teenager is Cape’s third release, his first LP after the independent release of a split single in 2004 and a self-titled EP in 2005 under the Big Scary Monster label. It is characterised by soft, acoustic guitar-driven melodies and, of course, Cape’s powerful, unvarnished vocals. Alternately brooding and hopeful, the album is nonetheless anchored by an underlying sense of melancholy and disillusionment, perhaps most evident on such tracks as “the Lighthousekeeper” and “War of the Worlds.” While some tracks come off as slightly over-produced, the album nonetheless retains the gritty folk influence that powered Cape’s rise through the live show circuit to this major label release. - James Sandham
Get Set Go
Listening to alt-power poppers Get Set Go’s third album Selling Out & Going Home makes me think one thing. This band’s got serious issues. I mean total social, quirky issues that make me think this guy might need therapy. It’s understandable to have a bad day and mutter under your breath “I Hate Everyone” but to actually wish death on another kind of disturbs me. In their track “Everybody Get Movin’” lead singer Mike TV boldly sings “looks like there’s an accident / I’m hoping everybody’s dead / you heard what I said / I hope these bastards died a horrible death.” Lyrics such as this kind of throw me off especially since I wouldn’t expect such macabre subjects to go along with the band’s catchy and peppy sound. I realize afterwards that Mike TV is known for this kind of songwriting as a way to work through his personal demons. Nonetheless even though some of the content is slightly off-kilter at times, the music itself is a blend of pop, folk, alt-country and punk – just a real mix of genres much like a mix of Mike’s emotions. Singing about everything from a depressing love life to miserable poverty to his insecurities, this album is a real, brutally honest look at a day in the life of the singer-songwriter. Listening to the 17-track disc you get a little nostalgic for the past both on a personal level and for the music of the past. Musically you get nostalgic because in the middle of the banter and self-pity Get Set Go have managed to learn from artists such as The Ramones and The Beach Boys and applied these influences to create their own unique sound. As an individual listener, you get personally drawn into the music because you start to feel for Mike. With songs such as “You’re The Infection” and “Sweet Little Kisses” you realize Mike is just another guy who’s had his heart broken too, he’s come up short for rent too and maybe he likes drugs just like some of us. Basically he’s human and that’s okay because at least he’s got the talent to sing about it and not just whine about it like the rest of us.
-Antoinette Mercurio
The Good, The Bad & The Queen
I love Brit-Pop/Rock so I was excited to receive a copy of Britian's latest supergroup, The Good, The Bad and The Queen. I knew I could not be disappointed when I heard the line up: The voice of frontman and mastermind, Damon Albarn of Blur and Gorillaz fame. The bass playing of ex-Clasher Paul Simonen. Guitar soundscapes provided by Simon Tong formerly of The Verve and drums played by Tony Allen formerly of Fela Kuti. And if that wasn't enough, Danger Mouse Brian Burton was recruited to produce the album. Wow. Sedated is the word that comes to mind to describe the overall project The excitement I initially felt was instantly transformed in to a sort of calm once I popped the CD in to my player. The first track "History Song" sets the mood. It begins with a slow acoustic guitar overlaid with Albarn's lazy vocals. Then comes in Simonen's dub bass, a smidge of reggae organ and the quiet touch of Allen's snare drum. Great tune. The music is sparse and the musicianship is simple and understated. But the instrumentation and layered production threads it all together. The CD also has a very nostalgic "English" flavour to it. Partly because of Albarn's unapologetic English accent and partly because of a Beatlesque country-side style piano that is heard throughout several songs. From song to song, we are haunted by ghosts of Brit-Pop past: Blur meets the Gorillaz meets a very high Ska/Reggae band from Kingston town. Although I understand the feel that Albarn was trying to provoke with this album, my only disappointment is that there are no real "rocker" tracks. A sedated journey from start to finish. www.thegoodthebadandthequeen.com -Liz Lulu
As experienced on the front cover, these Ghosts
don't forget their piano in the afterlife. I've never been
scared of folded paper shapes before and "Origami Nightmare" is no
exception as Shannon Wood takes the lead in this song. "Your Big
Day" is as shiny and peppy as you would hope that day to be and a
favourite. "Mail Lady" keeps the pep in your step and if you
thought your feet were going to slow down "No Pressure" will keep them
quick. B.C. based Ghost House open for Joel and the Last of the
Neighbours this summer.
Graig Markel This is pretty desolate sounding stuff. At times, it has the lonely sounding production and guitar work that might be found on a Daniel Lanois album. The songs are never in any hurray to go anywhere, which is both comforting and frustrating. The songs aren’t particularly long, so it is difficult to grow bored with them, and the screeching guitar work in the background does compliment the quiet one line choruses. Frustrations do arise though when you realize that each song shares the same sparse sound, and there is very little expansion on that sound. This can be perfect if in the right mood for a quiet morning or night. Lay in the bathtub and put this on when you want to be really mellow, but if you aren’t in the bathtub, you might get bored somewhere in the middle of the album. The production is deceptively simple, with many quiet layers of drum, keys, chimes, and synth work stacked on top of the vocals. The electronic strings, and Markel’s voice are at times reminiscent of The Flaming Lips, but much colder and distant. It’s not quite enough to be depressing, but certainly not lively enough to grab you, so I think it’s fair to say that this is an album for solo listening, but only on those occasions when you want something you can choose to pay little attention to, or ignore if necessary. -Daniel Demois
One thing that’s beyond dispute about the Great Outdoors: they know how to package an album. Like previous releases, this one comes bound as a small book, complete with text and graphics, and even a scribbled library card in the back, just like you used to get in elementary school. Pretty cool. Why anyone would want to distract from the music, however, I cannot understand, because Food, Booze and Entertainment is one great album – provided you’re in the mood for roots folk. But who isn’t these days? The “citygrass” movement is everywhere, and these guys are part of its old guard. Comparable to other Canadian neo-folk staples like Ox and Kingsway, the Great Outdoors have crafted in this album a detached, drawling ode to the fine art of old fashioned songwriting, complete with banjo, fiddle, and singing circle to boot. Wistful and weary, it’s good listening for a tired world. - James Sandham Without a hint of sarcasm I can say that this is one of the best albums for falling asleep to that I’ve found in a very long time. This is partly because the CD is full of gentle, pretty melodies and partly because a whole case of Red Bull couldn’t keep me awake while listening to it. 4 songs into the 12 track disc and I can’t remember a single thing about any of the songs I’ve just heard, except that they sound almost exactly like the song I’m listening to right now. Ida Nilson’s voice seems only to have a range from breathy sad to breathy melancholy, and her piano clunks along with chords, albeit pretty ones, as though they weren’t aware the instrument could do anything else. There are some interesting sounds on the album; trumpets, violins, lap steel and an accordion, for example, but each of these seems to have been calculated as no more than a nice way to fill up the space in any given song. You get the sense that you could interchange any of the “interesting” instruments and the sound would be pretty much the same. The whole album makes me wonder whether Great Aunt Ida is writing songs for themselves or writing songs for other people. They’ve created a very introspective album, and as an audience member it’s difficult to find any access points so that I can make these songs relate to me and make them memorable. Listening to this album makes me feel a little bit like listening to a conversation between a group of people I don’t know that’s full of inside jokes I don’t understand. That being said, it’s really not bad. It’s definitely hesitant, but that isn’t unusual for a debut release. It’s like listening to Belle and Sebastian, but without the hooks. If I didn’t own it already I would certainly go out and buy it, even if it was just for falling asleep to. - Sarafina DiFelice
The Graboids
“I know, we’ll call them graboids!” This is the line from that wonderfully cheesy movie that we all know as Tremors. The Graboids, however, are not subterranean snake creatures. They’re the ambient rock band from Virginia. Although ambient rock is nothing new, the Graboids do it well. They mix spacey guitar riffs with mellow beats and finish it off with a distinct ambient swell. Their sound is much like another band by the name Explosion in the Sky only with heavier guitars and more psychedelic. They released their sophomore album in February 2007. Each song on the album fades into the next giving you the feeling that you’re listening to one continuous track. This music works very well as background music while working on the computer, or perhaps driving. The graboids are on tour July 2007, however the closest venue to Toronto is in New York. http://www.myspace.com/graboids -Phil Kedrosky
Having parted ways with the Brit-pop icons Blur four
years ago, their former guitarist is back with his sixth solo release.
Love Travels at Illegal Speeds is raunchy, rocking Brit-pop true to
Coxon’s Blur roots but unfortunately missing much of the distinctive
magic only Damon Albarn could bring to the sound (which is not to say
the album should be dismissed). The album is personal and catchy with
an inviting narrative that any scruffy, lovelorn kid could relate to.
Fans of Modern Life is Rubbish-era Blur should be impressed, but the
quirky je ne sais quoi that made Blur into an international phenomenon
is sadly absent from this work. Perhaps launching one mega-group was
enough for Coxon. These days, he laments, “I’d like to get married
and go raise pigs in the countryside.” Hand that alternative to his
fans, and perhaps Love isn’t such a bad offering after all.
Ghost Stories is the one man musical project of Seattle-based maestro Ron Lewis, and his debut, Quixoticism, is a solid album of upbeat pop underscored by a subtle vein of eerie melancholy. His opening track, “Catacombs”, is a case in point. The lazy acoustic guitar work anchors it solidly in the genre of musicians like Donovan Woods and Bright Eyes, but the swelling strings that carry the melody add a haunting undertone to the piece. Like the rest of the album, it’s a well-arranged piece of musicianship, all the more impressive since Lewis accomplished much of the recording process on his own, with nothing more than an 8-track tape machine and an empty house. It’s a low-fi approach that works well with the album’s general mood of suborned resilience. Things pick up as the album progresses, with the Clap-Your-Hans-Say-Yeah-like second track, “the Upper Ten/the Lower Five”, and “the Black Hand.” Ghost Stories also channels tried and true pop sounds a la Shins on tracks like “You Wear it like a Stained Glass Window.” So while the album might now blow minds with its originality, at the very least it draws from the current pantheon of pop rock hit makers. Great work for Lewis’ first time out. www.sonicboomrecordings.com/ghoststories - James Sandham
Girl Nobody
The breathy, quivering vocals of Girl Nobody’s lead singer Marta Jaciubek-McKeever goes well with the sleepy tracks on their Balaclava Casino Heist album. The disc is kind of spacey, as if you’re blasting off into an unknown universe. There’s no easy way to categorize the group but trip-pop roots with jazz-flavour and folkie-acoustic renderings happen to give this album an interesting flair. McKeever’s voice is an unusual one; sounding as though it’s not quite developed, almost childish but it works because it keeps you interested and listening rather than nodding off to the sleepy, whimsical beats. Can’t say the same for the male singer though, especially on “Grandfather.” Nothing makes you want to bang your wrists against the wall more than hearing some whiny voice exploit his grandfather’s cancer sickness in a song. Thankfully “Tacit” makes you forget about the previous track’s depression with its gentle, piano harmonies. An eclectic mix to say the least on this album, with a fair dipping into a few musical genres to make it a light, airy listen. -Antoinette Mercurio
The Odd Couple
The problem with writing one of the most popular songs in the past five years is everything you do afterwards will pale in comparison. Gnarls Barkley will never write another “Crazy” or at least it`s not on their new album The Odd Couple. The duo of Cee-Lo and Danger Mouse are undeniably talented and every now and then when they click, it`s magic. For the most however Gnarls Barkley are an interesting diversion that gets old quick. The new album is at it`s best when it`s rocking. Single “Run” and “Going On” are two great high energy songs from the group but clunkers like “Open Book” and “No Time Soon” show up too often and deflate any excitement built up beforehand. The album is worth a spin but Gnarls Barkley may be heading into niche fan-base territory. - Sam Stilson
God Made Me Funky
Funk Collective God Made Me Funky have been bringing the funk to Toronto and surrounding areas for years, but never in as polished and radio-friendly a way as can be found on their sophomore release We Can All Be Free. While their 2004 self-titled debut reflected as closely as possible the feel and flow of their raucous live performances, their new album shows a group who have learned to use the studio to their advantage and create multi-layered tracks that show all of their potential. GMMF describe themselves as a “collective”, always in a state of flux and cycling musicians in and out (including two new lead vocalists and a new keyboardist on this album). The one thing that stays consistent throughout, fortunately, is the quality of music, a mix of Parliament Funkadelic stylings and family-friendly rapping all done with a tongue-in-cheek attitude that helps remind us that the first three letters in Funk are F-U-N. Guest appearances from such artists as (Godfather of Canadian Hip-Hop) Maestro, among others, help to give this group the industry ‘cred’ they so rightly deserve. God Made Me Funky is on the verge of something with this new record: a funk revolution threatening to take over the world with fresh sounds and a whole lot of fun. www.godmademefunky.com -Matthew Gorman
Oh Gomez. The U.K dawlings are back with How We
Operate, 12 songs of fuzzy brown cardigan sweetness. Signed to Dave
Matthews’ label, Gomez have been adjusting their black rim glasses on
stage for just about a decade. The songs oscillate between the naïve
pensiveness (sha la la’s included) and just over three minute pop
ditties that will have your loafers tapping. Heeding the critics
warning, How We Operate is more pared down then Gomez’s last couple of
efforts. But don’t get this reviewer wrong, Gomez has the ability to
rock, sort of. Woman! Man! is full of aw shucksness while Notice has a
melody that defies you dislike. Produced by Gil Norton of Pixies, Echo
and the Bunnymen, Feeder and Counting Crows (?) fame, How We Operate
works when Gomez is in their element; cute and catchy. Unfortunately, I
do not believe half the CD; for example, when they decide that a banjo
is a propos, Gomez come off a little like Anthony Michael Hall in that
Blues club scene in Weird Science. Trust me; you will not be surprised
to learn some of the members of Gomez met in University.
Gorgeous Frankenstein
back
to top I am the last person to claim to be an authority on
Tango music. In fact, my first exposure to it was that unforgettable
scene in 1992’s ‘Scent of a Woman’. And what 14 year old boy would
not have been captivated by a blind Al Pacino dancing provocatively
with the smoking hot Gabrielle Anwar? It wasn’t until 9 years later
that I once again became interested in the genre. It was The Gotan
Project’s 2001’s album La Revancha Del Tango, which fused traditional
Argentinean Tango with loungy house/electronica beats, that once again
piqued my interest. That album, the bands first, went on to garner
critical acclaim and sell millions of copies around the world while
putting Tango back on the map.
This album is two tracks and slightly more than half an hour in length, and features three Japanese kids named K, T, and Ace gibbering, shouting, and moaning over a musical background that can range in the period of a few minutes from jazz to funk to ground-up noise-core insanity. In other words, it’s an album of super-experimental avant-garde prog rock – that is, if you’re feeling open-minded; on a bad day, it could be categorized with equal legitimacy as stoned juvenile self-indulgence. It’s some pretty tripped out stuff, so the reaction can really go either way. When I first popped it in the player I was pretty sceptical of it. The first track’s called “Killmekillmekillme” and I was going to write something like “yeah, it makes you want to do just that,” because it’s pretty bloody strange. But when I realized GMFTPO are probably singing in Japanese I became a little more sympathetic to their cause, and now that I’ve listened to the album a few times all the way through, gotten past the weirdness of the first few minutes of “Killmekillmekillme” (the opening track), I’ve come to be pretty fond of it. It’s different and experimental and at times quite beautiful, and was recorded all in one take. Check ‘em online at www.green-milk.com. - James Sandham
Guided by Voices' Bee Thousand - 33 1/3 (Paperback)
Although Guided By Voices' seventh album, "Bee Thousand" has never made the charts, it has been hailed by indie rock critics and even the likes of Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore, Dinosaur Jr's J Mascis and the Pixies/Breeders Kim Deal. It has been regarded as one of lo-fi's defining albums and has gained the adulation of indie fans around the world. It has been called an epiphany, a work of genius and is regarded as the holy grail to many Guided by Voices fans. In this book, author, Marc Woodworth tries to capture the soul of "Bee Thousand" with his personal critical review and account of what took place during the time of the recording. The book intertwines his point of view with narratives from Guided By Voices band members such as Robert Pollard, Tobin Sprout and Kevin Fennell. He also gets testimonials from fans of the album and gets their personal listener responses. Woodworth captures your attention in the first chapter with a fascinating story filled with imagery and imagination. He is an intelligent and concise writer who relays the history and myth of Guided By Voices to the reader in an almost scientific way, proving various points through historical examples. My favourite part of the book is the personal account of principal singer-songwriter Robert Pollard. Some of his quotes truly captured the spontaneous songwriting process that the band adhered to which I think is the charm behind "Bee Thousand." "Living with the mistakes became our aesthetic," says Pollard in his narrative. " We didn't worry about production values or musical correctness. We didn't consider perfect rhymes and typical themes, we were in to destruction and reconstruction." He also goes on to say, "It was important to me that we capture a song in the least amount of time from when I conceive it to when we put it on tape. That's the way to capture the purest essence of the song." If you are a Guided By Voices fan or if you just want to get some insight in to the Lo-Fi era of indie rock, I highly recommend that you buy this paperback. -Liz Lulu
Springfield, Missouri-based quartet Ha Ha Tonka do four-on-the-floor rock and roll with a dash of country thrown in and, true to their roots in the Ozarks, just a pinch of backwoods gospel. The result is a refreshingly authentic sound that doesn’t merely subscribe to the genres from which it was born, but embodies and builds upon them. The albums’s first single, “St. Nick On the Fourth in a Fervour”, is a perfect example of this, fusing the thumping, visceral feel of rock and roll with a worn and weary country twang, and sharply insightful lyrics critiquing the socio-economic conditions from which the band hail. There’s a quiet energy to many of these songs that simmers below the surface, straining to be let out, but which remaining barely constrained, and this lends a certain frantic excitement to the music. Powerful stuff. Bruce Springsteen would be proud. - James Sandham
Hallo Spaceboy: The Rebirth of David Bowie A musicians mere existence doesn’t breed importance any more than retaining one’s original fan base makes a the musician an innovator. Though David Bowie’s output since his 1987 Glass Spiders bomb has not, per say, been unimportant or reliant on the same old tricks, neither is it the amazing return to form of a once-godlike musician that writer Dave Thompson believes it to be. The writer of the seminal Bowie bio “Moonage Daydream,” the first volume to what Thompson asserts will likely be a three volume series. If this third volume comes along sometime around Bowie’s eightieth birthday, Thompson’s Bowie-coloured glasses will keep this reader as far from it as possible. Though Thompson is a meticulous completionist, he errs in worshipping too long at the altar of the Man Who Fell to Earth. He gives Bowie sole credit for inspiring glam, punk and grunge among other movements, painting Bowie as a godhead incapable of fault. Of course, this book begins at the time of Bowie’s second unsuccessfull period (though Thompson would surely forget, Bowie had a rough go of things before he decided to “go queer” with his Ziggy Stardust persona, his wife’s creation). The icons of the previous decade often fall on hard times, unable to adapt to current trends. We’ve seen this with many artists, not just Bowie but a veritable army of one-time innovative bands culled by the ravages of time. But does Thompson lay fault with Bowie for his inability to navigate the waters of the eighties as brilliantly as Eno or as heartfelt as George Harrison? Of course not. The problem in Thompson’s mind was not Bowie’s artistic sensibilities but the eighties themselves. Now, I don’t know that much about religious philosophy, but it seems that one should use observation to validate their religion, not search out the “right information” that agrees with their presupposed notions. In doing this, Thompson comes across as dogmatic, only of interest to those who will share his sentiments and move further towards what can only be described in modern terms as “Bowian Faschism.” On the other hand, one cannot fault Thompson’s narrative for its complexity, and although it is guilty of being overly subjective it does provide a well written-if somewhat bogged down in “pop-up video” moments. I brief history of Bowie’s Tin Machine experiment would suffice, but Thompson etches out every painful detail, every smirk, smile, and frown that the ol’ Thin White Duke flashes and the extended circumstances during the early nineties. And don’t even get me started on how Thompson fawns over the whole “I’m Afraid of Americans” phase of the late nineties; what he calls a return to form others would likely call cashing in on the pop industrial production of Trent Reznor to sell a few albums to the world’s depressed teenagers - hardly a revolutionary idea. Again, the necessary question is who cares? Because Thompson has written this romantic history of the crash and gradual rise of Bowie’s commercial stock, does it make it a necessary read? Possibly to the most die hard Bowie fans, those who agree that Bowie didn’t see the eighties as worth his time, not that he released a so-so album and took some time in getting back on track. For the rest of us, the All Music Guide’s entry to Bowie is more than efficient, and for those looking for an in depth literary introduction to Bowie, I’d suggest trying Thompson’s earlier “Moonage Daydream” rather than this number. Oh, and if this volume succeeds, look out for books on Biggie Smalls’ post-humous period, Tiny Tim after “Tiptoe Through the Tulips,” and the multi-volume look at Nirvana’s pre-“Smells Like Teen Spirit” album, Bleach.
Come on, who isn’t immediately drawn to an album
with that title! For those in the twenty something to early thirty
something category, we all know that our parents tried if not dabbled
in drugs in their youth. This is surely an album preceded by it’s own
bizarre appearance and track names such as “Coulter’s Snatch” and
“Jerkin’”. Even if you don’t like Ed Hamell’s brash punchy folk
music, bordering on the term “anti-folk” with his psychotic and
fast-paced sound hammered out on his 1937 Gibson, you’ll love his
honesty. He tells it like it is and doesn’t mess around.
Hardcore hillbilly has arrived two generations after
Nashville’s original bad boy Hank Williams Sr. His grandson Hank III
has made the rounds in punk bands, rock bands and country bands
refusing to bow down to the Nashville majors and cash in on his name as
a new country pop star.
Burning Birthdays Self-produced
Few bands could pull off the musical weirdness the indie world has come to expect of Harlem Shakes. But somehow they mange to do it, and Burning Birthdays is no exception, blending doo-wop, surf music, and 60s-style French pop into a colourful musical parody – think Brian Eno meets the Rocky Horror Picture Show. The only drawback is that this entertaining little five-song EP clocks in at less than 20 minutes - it’s a fresh blast of musical innovation when what the listener wants is a full-on hurricane. But I guess you can’t blame ‘em for leaving you wanting more. Hear for yourself at www.harlemshakes.com.
- James Sandham
Harmonica
Harmonica first made their mark on North America as part of SoundProof Magazine’s 2007 Canadian Music Week showcase, picking up a “Best Band” award and a subsequent Canadian distribution deal with Toronto’s small but influential (weewerk) records label. SoundProof brought them back again for their 2007 Pop Montreal showcase - but in case you missed the uber-cute Norwegian quintet at these events, Harmonica have now issued a two track EP, Miaow Miaow Bark!. And while two tracks isn’t nearly enough to convey the wide range of Harmonica’s sound, it gives a taste nonetheless of what you can expect from this band. Opening track “You Gotta Go!” has got the whole 80s retro vibe a la Bangles going on, while the disc’s second number is sugar sweet pop with a strange European rock edge, kind of like Abba meets Lily Allen. Promising work from a band whose reputation has, until recently, rested almost entirely on the intensity of their live performances. An expanded four-track version is forthcoming from (weewerk). -James Sandham
Harry
Manx
back
to top Having previously released two albums independently,
HBSS return with their junior release on Skin Industries. Produced by
Miguel Happoldt, the man behind such acts as Sublime, Slightly Stoopid
and Long Beach Dub All-Stars, Mad World bears many of the signature
characteristics of his past work, but fused with HBSS’s harder,
metal-punk edge. Comparisons to Operation Ivy, Sublime, and Minor
Threat abound. Overall, the album is a solid mix of ska, punk, and
metal touching on some of our world’s most pressing themes –
violence, religion, cosumerism, and the monotony of Western, work-a-day
culture. HBSS address these issues in typical punk style, half furious,
half sneeringly and ironically mocking. The result is positive,
highlighting HBSS’s sense of humour while guarding them against the
temptation of holier-than-thou preaching. HBSS do, however, descend
into cliché on several tracks – “Puka Shells,” for instance. For
some reason, after all these years, punk bands still find the need to
define themselves by bashing hippies. But some habits die hard. So
while HBSS may not be particularly original, they’re certainly catchy
and as socially relevant as punk can be.
Hella You can always count on Hella for one thing: to be consistently inconsistent, eclectic and ever-changing. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that the band’s 4th full-length album seems to echo Monty Python’s catchphrase, “And now for something completely different”. Originally a two-piece in the vein of Lightning Bolt or Athletic Automaton, Hella have added three new members, including a vocalist. If you’re all “WTF?”, calm down. While the band has become more formally conventional with a proper album with members and bearable track times, Hella haven’t become stylistically conventional in the least. They’re still explosive, rhythmically mathematic, tight, relentless, and for lack of a better expression, all over the place. Most importantly, Zach Hill is still a goddamn animal of a drummer. Urgent and manic, Hella beats the shit out of their audience, halting for fractions of seconds to let you catch your breath, then continuing to pound and slam violently and almost unbearably. But this record has a lot to talk about. There is no 666 in Outer Space rages against popular success, religion, science and with a sense of humour calls for anarchy on “Anarchists Just Wanna Have Fun”. On “The Things People Do When They Think No One’s Looking” new vocalist Aaron Ross cryptically intones, “Pursuit for power doesn’t faze a mystic / To the moon our skulls are tightly bound / We with no intention to come down / The day they proved the earth was round / Was the day they flattened the holy ground”. To Hella, we’ve got it all wrong. At times clattering with industrial sensibilities, often metallically soulful and always noisy, Hella offer up a solid and first-rate record. But perhaps it should come with a warning along the lines of: “Goalie pads recommended. Jock-strap required”? -Kate Robertson
High John Weariness rushes in with the liner notes telling us to read Kerouac and Chompsky, the sort of sentiment that really only appeals to those who’ve read half a volume of either. Since when is Chompsky’s “Manufacturing Consent” and Kerouac's “Dharma Bums” taught in the same class? Is it the one where they listen to Bob Marley and quiz each other on ultimate frisbee rules and regulations? Or did they just happen to meet by happenstance, in some McGilligan’s bookbag? Where do they get off with these self-righteous acoustic college knockoffs of Alice In Chains’ weaker material? If all of this sounds wavey gravy to you rather than a part of your life you’d sooner forget, High John are your band. Catch them soon in a vegan’s basement near you. - Christopher Langer
Like their previous releases, the High Strung’s third album, Get the Guests, has a sound that’s difficult to classify but is perhaps best described as just really happy rock with a very subtle psych-country underpinning to it. Or something like that. Sometimes you can hear prog-rock instead of psych-country. It’s a bit like Danielson. “Quirky” is a word that often surfaces in reviews of the High Strung’s work, and it’s as apt a descriptor as any for this album as well. Surrealist lyrics sung with equally distinctive vocals power this record. Good tracks include “Maybe You’re Coming Down With It”, “Childhood” and “the Curator.” - James Sandham
back
to top
As far as shoe-gazer’s go, Portland Oregon’s The
High Violets fit comfortably, yet uniquely. Their latest release To
Where You Are, offers those typical distant guitar tones with soft
melodies. Kaitlyn Ni Donovan's vocals brought me back to the days of
Lush from the very beginning of “Sun Baby.” Seemingly out of place,
their spacey sound slides through the door of an aggressive music
industry. Not only will you find catchy rhythms, but also 80's pop
hungry keyboards as evidenced in the song “Cool Green”. Ending the
album is the title track “To Where You Are,” which winds us down. So
overall, The High Violet’s have a pop flare with a dream sequence
tucked inside.
The Higher Busdriver. The Coup. Dangerdoom. Sage Francis. Dillinger Escape Plan, Dropkick Murphys. Elliott Smith. Bad Religion. Neko Case. Blackalicious. Eyedea and Abilities. Joe Strummer. Daniel Lanois. Solomon Burke. New Bomb Turks. God damned Noam Chompsky. Bad Religion. This is a very brief list of some of Epitaph's current and past artists on the Epitaph, ANTI-, and Hellcat Records Imprints. Epitaph is truly one of the great indie labels of the last twenty-some years, and through some occasionally questionable moves, they have always managed to keep a stable artists with more talent than most major labels. The Higher? One of Epitaph's newest bands, The Higher's "On Fire" will garner mixed reviews, but attempting to write an article on the band's first outing is like death by paper cut. Too often does a band so blandly trek across the American musical landscape with technical talent, melodic sensibilities, and clean (though generic) production, their parade stopping the second the band is no longer a financial force. Yes children, The Higher are plugged into this third generation of MTVers, or at least what executives are hoping they listen too, and at the same time the band calls to those once-hipsters who've grown long in the tooth and are in need of some punk rock attitude mushed up and fed to them on a Philosopher Kings commemorative spoon. The Billie Joe Armstrong yell that a full generation of Californians (and those aspiring to move to that sunny cemented hell) ape have again come to a head with singer Seth Trotter's insipid songwriting. "We use our bodies like exploding weapons," claims "Rock My Body." The lyrics, though benign, are seemingly aimed at a generation of teenagers who Trotter believes relate to everything through the post 9/11 armed paranoia, though he seems too old to act as their spokesperson and doesn't take this any further than surface level similes. Trotter doesn't analyze his potential listeners, his own lyrics, falling more alongside Spinal Tap's thoughtfulness in "Big Bottom." The difference there was that Guest and company were rhyming 'libido' and 'pink torpedo' to satirize the hyper sexed indulgence on eighties rock, whereas The Higher are just reveling in their own PG13 fantasies. Elsewhere, Trotter cries "one love" in some sort of attempt to use an 'R&B/Soul' suffix to pull the band out of the powerpop pigeon hole. Though this doesn't work, it does make the lyric "we were an indestructible team" almost believable as a relationship metaphor, even if it still sounds like two transformers lamenting a falling out. Aside from lyrical content, "On Fire" has an 'eclecticism' that fails to hit the mark. It isn't anything new to hear a crew of white boys borrow from soul, reggae and other intrinsically 'black' sounds to tint their rock. The Clash and the Police are masters, and probably the earliest examples that The Higher would be aware of, but where other groups have excelled, The Higher come off as cold and over-polished, sucking the soul out of the sounds that they obviously hope will give their own sound a warmer spirit than the typical angst-ridden rock fair. This being said, the teenage audience and clueless thirty-somethings trying to hearken back to their glory years will likely kick off their collective prom heels for "On Fire," which may make the album a success. Just remember, this doesn't mean that they're any good. Christopher Langer
back
to top Is it just my copy, or has whoever designed the
cover to Dark Light opted to write the album's title atop the evil
corporate castle graphic with a silver permanent marker? Pay no mind,
sir. I guess that's what passes for graphic design in Scandanavia these
days... In my mind, the first tier of the metal album, even a goth
metal album, has always relied on its ability to terrorize with either
its sheer technical merit as well as its faux, or somewhat credibly
evil, carnivalism.
Pan Pan Medico
The third album from Vancouver’s Hinterland is anything but predictable. Opening with dark guitar riffs and heavy bass, the first few tracks feel like walking through a dark forest with only Michaela Galloway’s soaring vocals leading the way. Like waking up from a bad dream, the haunting nightmare ends as “Future Ghost” relies on a keyboard melody that sounds like a soothing lullaby. “You Speak-I’m Silent” and “Gemetry” add a dash of synth pop but the final track, “Sentinel”, returns to the darkness, concluding the album with a swirl of guitar distortion. Hinterland tries to cover a lot of territory and overall the band have crafted an enjoyable album. -Jon Brazeau
back
to top As soon as the first note of Hinterland's sophomore
release, The Picture Plane, hit, my feet were up and dancing. A
surprising high voice (Michaela Galloway, who also contributes flute,
oboe, keys and percussion) accompanied the more rock type playing of
Cameron McLellan (bass, guitar), Gregg Steffenson (drums, percussion,
noise) and Kyle Fogden (guitar, keys), who make up the rest of the
Vancouver based band. The second song, “Thisclose”, drew me in with
the dominant bass playing. A great accompaniment to moving around
frenetically in your underwear or to keep the pulsing on a Saturday
night, which eventually relents into slower numbers. Track six, Western
Development Museum's, ethereal, haunting tinged, flute carries to
another lighter place, floating in the clouds. A precursor for the rest
of the dreamy, sleepy album, book endeda with some upbeats and bounce on
the last track, the final let go of the appropriately titled "Exit
Sign."
The
Hoa Hoas The Hoa Hoas live in Toronto's Kensington Market neighbourhood and, like most of the residents there, are a total bunch of hippies. They all share a one bedroom flat over some used clothing store, jam out in there, and throw killer 1960s flashback parties that'll make you think you're living the flower decade all over again, even if you're only 22. In any case, their self-produced debut EP is pretty much the musical equivalent of their lifestyle and live shows: totally trippy and psychadelic, and pretty nonsensical most of the time. Take, for example, their opening track, sung in faux British accent by lead vocalist Richie Volume: for several minutes the band just jams about nothing more than wearing a yellow jacket. So it's pretty light-core twee stuff, but it's all fun psych-pop comparable to the likes of Belle and Sebastian. But the best thing about the Hoa Hoas is their live shows; they play a mean set and are followed by a dedicated and not-too-cool-to-dance fan base. Check 'em out at www.myspace.com/thehoahoas. - James Sandham
Ho-Ag
Ho-Ag’s music is best described as pure frenzy. A dissonant mix of distorted guitar, synthetic fuzz, and synthesized beats, it rises, swells, then falls away again, and this characterizes much of the album. Some of it is mildly reminiscent of Mr. Bungle but less symphonic and more punked out. Vocals by Matt Parish are raw, unrehearsed, and unpretentious – and not a little grating at times: even freaky madness can get stale with prolonged exposure, but slower songs like “Lemon Juice and Vinegar” help add diversity to the album’s otherwise break-neck pace. Instrumentals are provided courtesy of bandmates Patrick Kim (guitar), Eric Meyer (drums), Tyler Derryberry (electronics and vocals), and Nkus Ward on bass. These boys hail from Georgia. www.hellosirrecords.com - James Sandham
Holy Fuck
- Sam Stilson
- Sam Stilson
Hopewell New York quintet Hopewell have been around since about 1993, making music under the space rock banner and collaborating with the likes of Mercury Rev and the Flaming Lips. Since their inception in the early nineties they’ve put out a bunch of singles, mainly at the start of their career, and three LPs, the last of which was 2005’s Birds of Appetite. Not Birds, their fourth CD release, is an EP and, as the press release informs us, not just a bunch of “cast offs” from the other albums. That said, however, it does contain a song recorded during the Birds of Appetite session and a couple of quick, minute-plus pieces – so this album is by no means a masterwork, and at times it does feel a bit dashed together, despite Hopewell’s lazy, ethereal psych-pop sound. But all in all it’s a good album, especially if you like the Flaming Lips; you’ll swear Wayne Coyne is doing the vocals for some of the tracks, if not writing them. This is applicable to “Beautiful Targets” in particular, although the collaboration on that track is actually with Mercury Rev. “The Notbirds,” the album’s first track, is perhaps also its standout, characterized by great instrumental arrangements, a soaring sound, and a bit of a harder edge than the rest of the EP. Check ‘em out online at www.myspace.com/hopewell. - James dham
The Horrors On the strength of a furious, 15 minute live set and a look that’s “cooler than the first time you saw the Strokes but with more menace,” to quote Vice magazine, the Horrors have managed to captivate audiences in their native UK, and have now snagged a North American record deal through Stolen Transmission. Set for release this October, their debut EP is a blazing fast five-song set that ends disappointingly soon – altogether, the album clocks in at only slightly more than 12 minutes. But that’s all part of the package, because the Horros are, if nothing else, an oddity. With a sound somewhere between the Ramones, the Bad Seeds, and Tom Waits, the quintet shreds its 12 minutes of music into pure madness with twitchy organ work by Spider Webb and Faris Badwan’s spastic, choked vocals. Freaky, stripped down, indignant and immediately catchy, the album may be short but it’s a hell of a trip. Check out their vid for “Sheena is a Parasite,” directed by Chris Cunningham, on YouTube or hear their music at www.myspace.com/thehorrors. - James Sandham
back
to top With gritty vocals, socially conscious lyrics, blazing fast bass and
guitar, and pounding percussion to tie the whole package together,
Hostage Life's first LP is a trip back to the time when punk was angry
and destructive instead of merely naughty and preening. Charged with raw
energy, authenticity, and a set of vocal chords surprisingly impervious
to abuse, Walking Papers shows there is hope yet for punk fans
everywhere. Its 14 tracks are hard, furious, and rugged, yet
refreshingly innovative and fun without comprising the larger
anti-establishmentarian ethos and message. Reminiscent at times of Iggy
Pop and the Stooges - and, occasionally, of Billy Idol - the album is
characterized by Colin Lichti's relentlessly shouted verses and the
band's rousing, anthemic choruses. Stripped, defiant hardcore
embellished with ironic stadium-rock guitar licks give this album a
sound that is angry and provocative, yet self-mocking, conscious of the
fact that it's only a punk band, not a revolutionary movement.
Blistering, clever, ironic punk with perspective.
The sophomore album from the UK’s newest
Electro-Pop outfit Hot Chip starts off like a hot flash. The opening
track ‘Careful’ starts of with soft synth sounds which quickly lead
into a barrage of industrial sounding beats that back digitally altered
vocals. They then take a break for a quick infusion of ethereal vocals,
but only momentarily as they then dive right back into the hard beats.
It is a great introduction to an album full of experimentation and
solid songwriting that could be compared to as varied a group of
artists as Beck, The Beach Boys, Kraftwerk and Prince.
Hot Hot Heat
You know something? Hot Hot Heat gets a little bit more irritating every album they produce. With their latest, it’s like they’re beating the same old horse with the same crappy stick, only now the stick is soggy, and the horse… man, I’m just going to stop myself there. If you’re still stuck on the whole abrasive dance-pop fad, that’s very cool; and if you dig whiny ballads that would make Ben Folds cringe, then that’s up to you. It’s more than the music just being lame, it’s that the formula is all dried up; there’s no innovation, and there’s nothing gripping my ears to the speakers except for hooks like the main riff of ‘5 times out of 100’, which ends up driving the high and whiny vocals deep into my psyche. This is not, in my opinion, music for listening to at home, or listening to with friends. -Jesse Kline
The Icarus Line
Anyone who likes their rock n’ roll spiked with a shot of danger need look no farther than The Icarus Line and the four tracks on their new EP, Black Presents. At least, that’s what these LA skid row superstars would have you believe. And to be sure, they do bring the pain. Seething rhythm, lacerating guitars and squalls of Joe Cardamone’s alternating screeching and sublime vocals pick up where their 2004 filth-rock masterpiece Penance Soiree left off. Mainlining a heady cocktail of a young Jane’s Addiction’s glam, Mars Volta’s prog-thrash, and late-model Primal Scream’s hemorrhage-inducing beats, this EP has its ups and downs, but at no point does it ever relent from its take-no-prisoners siege. Brash title track “Black Presents” never seems to take off, but serves up a tasty appetite-whetter for what’s to come. “Cut Back the Heard” and “Watch Your Step” are vintage Icarus Line, fusing their metal to Girls Against Boys’ funk sensibilities, but it is stand-out track “Fshn Fvr” that really struts off with the prom queen at the end of the night. A true departure from their glam-stomp sound, if not from their usual subject matter (see chorus: “We bite at the neck!”) “Fshn Fvr”’s relatively cleaner sound is that of Bauhaus’ gothic post-punk meeting the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club at the end of a syringe-filled alley. Unfortunately, it is this disparate nature of the track that will probably see it cut from the full album when it hits stores in early 2007. A shame, but only those looking forward to a violent death would have the cojones to mention that to these guys. www.dimmak.com - John Tracey
I was prepared to hate this album. Judging from its
cover (the album art is either a straight-jacketed Ernie from Sesame
Street, or a really angry phallus), and its very Christian-rock-like
song titles (“Nonbeliever”, “Martyrs Made and More Forgotten”, and
“Christian Vengeance (exodus 12)”, to name a few), I didn’t think it
was possible that a decent record might be hiding inside.
Ilad
Based in Richmond, Virginia, Ilad is a quartet of four young men with a penchant for drifting electronica and moody, spaced-out, pseudo-jazzy sounds. With National Flags, their sophomore release, they continue to build on this sound, fusing ethereal, mumbling, Lennon-esque vocals with soft, acid-jazzy instrumentals and, on the song “D.O.I.” at least, the words of Thomas Jefferson. It’s an experimental sound, but one that’s somehow simultaneously immediately familiar and comfortable. The album’s like taking a cool shower on a hot day: not exactly exciting and often barely stimulating, but just so necessary and good, and you come out feeling clean. Hear for yourself at www.iladmusic.com. - James Sandham
iLiKETRAiNS
Is it label policy that bands who have worked with Dance to the Radio have get all “creative” with how they write their name? I guess Leeds is a small town though. But not only do iLiKETRAiNS use stupid gimmicks like wierd syntax, they also write songs about esoteric crap like Robert F. Scott’s doomed 1912 mission to the Antartica – mainly so they’ll appeal to middle-aged reviewers at publications like The Times who confuse anything erudite for what’s progressive or hip. I’d already dismiss these guys as pandering sellouts – which is sad commentary if, like them, you’re still on an indie label – if it wasn’t for their genuinely admirable DIY ethos and the totally awesome music video that comes with this enhanced CD. It’s a wistful little piece of stop-motion animation and really makes concrete the themes of isolation, futility, and loneliness these guys are writing about. My final verdict: iLiKE iLiKETRAiNS. -James Sandham
back
to top
Fear Is On Our Side is the full length debut CD,
that follows up Austin, Texas's ILYBICD's 2003 self-titled shorter EP.
The fivesome (Christian Goyer, Edward Robert, Ernest Salaz, Timothy
White and Daniel Delfavero) give us happy music for funeral marches,
sexy slow caressing dancing, midnight moods, Sunday drives through dusk
and music to get lost in while spinning alone aimlessly through a room.
Melodic and dark, Fear Is On Our Side will catch sparks in even the
faintest of hearts. Like discovering flowers at twilight, I Love You
But Have Chosen Darkness have captured the darkest corners of my heart
and won't let go. Spilling minimal light, dilatory moving music,
humming vocals, it's just the thing to darken your dark day. Clearly in Another Fine Mess does have some
messiness to sort out, but illScarlett’s adolescent-friendly sound
could very well lead them to become the next alternative rock band to
clean up in the commercial music world. The band’s website describes
them as: “A filthy dub, punk and reggae brand, wrapped up in a very
accessible pop-package.” It’s not clear whether they mean “brand”
or “band”, but both descriptors apply. The album is divided into two
“sides”, which at first might seem like a pretentious throwback to
the days of vinyl. However, after a listen it becomes clear that the
division was a good idea. Side A could easily – and maybe should –
have functioned as a 5-song EP, containing the album’s strongest
tracks in the first three slots. illScarlett are served well by “First
Shot,” a song with a lot of Sublime in it that showcases their brand
of energetic dub-infused ska/punk. “Nothing Special” is the band’s
most radio-friendly pop-punk song, delving into the oft-explored realm
of youthful angst and frustration. Side A also includes a bizarrely
nü-metal tinged track called “Numero Two,” and is rounded out with
a number titled “One-A” that starts out as a party anthem, but dips
into a confusingly dark refrain – “All I want is for the world to go
away.” illScarlett sure seem to be diverse, and Side B confirms it
with an acoustic ballad and several enthusiastic live tracks. The first
side is definitely the stronger of the two, but it was wise of the band
to include the live performances, as they pride themselves on their
live show and their extensive fan base in the GTA. Singer Alex Norman
does a good job channeling the late Brad Nowell, and the rest of the
band members are capable and tight musicians. “Clearly in Another Fine
Mess” is a little scattered and insecure, but overall it’s a fun
listen. Album art from Toronto’s beloved punk clothiers “Playdead
Cult” round out this well-produced and catchy album.
Interpol
Continuing their tradition of making music that sounds like a beautifully amorphous cross between Joy Division and Gord Downie, Our Love to Admire is the third LP from the ever popular New York indie darlings Interpol. As critics have gushed since their first release in 2002, the band does hauntingly anomic rock music with a stripped down vocal sensibility, and this album is no different. Whether that’s a good or bad thing is hard to say, but one thing is clear: Interpol are consistent if nothing else, and fans should not be disappointed with this their latest offering. Tracks like “The Scale” and “The Heinrich Maneuver” are slightly more upbeat than their usual offering, but still retain the worn weariness that seems to be Interpol’s enduring draw. A solid album from an established quartet of musicians. Hear more at www.myspace.com/interpol. - James Sandham
Iron and Wine
It would appear that at some point between 2004’s Our Endless Numbered Days and The Shepherd’s Dog, Iron and Wine’s third and latest long-player, Sam Beam trekked his way out of the southern-goth backwoods only to find respite in some old hillbilly’s moonshine shack. Where he clearly dug into the hooch and got himself a little glow on. Generally faster, poppier and well, happier than Iron and Wine’s previous releases, The Shepherd’s Dog features Beam at his most – burp – laid-back, having fun with his craft and trying out new things. “The Devil Never Knows” is a honky-tonk banjo rave-up, and “Wolves,” with it’s wah-wah and organ combo, sounds like Days’ hypnotic “On Your Wings” reinterpreted as a Blaxploitation soundtrack. While there’s still a lot of Beam’s familiar ghostly ploddings to go around, this album is another step forward for the forest folk troubadour.
Iron
Maiden
When Iron Maiden led the late 70’s/early 80’s New Wave of British Heavy Metal underground scene one wonders if they ever thought they would still be playing metal almost thirty years later. Maiden remains one of most popular, if not most popular, metal acts around the world despite having hit their creative peak with 1985’s Powerslave. They are metal’s survivors, retaining brand value not just in Europe, South America and Japan, but in North America where they consistently compete with even the most popular Nu Metal acts like Slipknot and Disturbed. As this new album clearly demonstrates, this popularity is now based strictly on legend rather than talent. A Matter of Life and Death rehashes the same music and themes that we’ve heard for decades except Maiden no longer sound convincing. Somehow the power riffs which menaced now sound forced and formulaic. Bruce Dickinson’s “air siren” vocals save the record from oblivion but cannot save it from mediocrity. Lyrically, Maiden is jumping on the anti-Bush, anti-war bandwagon. Relevant, but so what? They don’t rock anymore. Their new songs don’t move people. While Aces High made teenagers play air guitar while jumping from the roof of their cars, the songs on Life and Death have as much intensity as Rick Derringer playing guitar in a mutual funds commercial. The emperor has no clothes but he does have a huge back catalogue of memories. Hey, some day it will happen to Slayer, too. - Michael Cool
The Jaguar Club
Three lads out of New York have learned to rehash old material and make it shiny and new. Will Popadic (Guitar/Vocals), Yoichiro Fujita (Bass/Back-up vox) and Jeremiah Joyce (Drums, Back-up vox) of the Jaguar Club, show us how far they have come and how much they have to offer. We are only bestowed with six tracks on this latest EP Ceci n’est pas le Club de Jaguar. There is an undertone of “college rock” coupled with pop vocals, very reminiscent of The Smiths. The boys three are quite good at keeping things simple. We don’t hear any instruments that are trying to fill space; the music is straight ahead with a small sample of progression. Because of this, we hear both catchy punchy melodies. Yet, they do tend to sound the same the more we go on. Favorites: “Beautiful House” and “World Gone By.” To pet the kitty up close, visit www.jaguarclubofnyc.net or www.myspace.com/thejaguarclub -Rayna
Jamie T
Why are British musicians so spicy? Their forked tongues and witty quips are always so entertaining, especially in a song. That seems to be the formula 21-year-old Wimbledon, South London native Jamie T has taken on his debut Panic Prevention. A 14-track musical journey into the everyday life of Jamie T, listeners are taken on an entertaining adventure of teen debauchery and Tom Sawyer-like escapades. Hard to peg, Jamie T quite bluntly just does what he wants. Wanna bust out some punk stylings à la The Clash, and then check out “Operation.” Hear an urban banter about “Sheila” and her mate Stella or listen to a bass-heavy up-tempo track like “Pacemaker” to get your heartbeat racing. A noted big fan of mixtapes Panic Prevention is definitely a mix tape of another kind. So many genres and styles of music come together, no two songs sound alike on this album. Jamie T isn’t afraid to be himself or to experiment either. He seems to just go with the flow and drop rhymes as if they’re second nature to him, no matter the subject matter. A fun, charming little disc full of boyish antics and shit-disturbing revelry, this is the soundtrack to Sick Boy’s life – provided [if] he wasn’t addicted to heroin. www.myspace.com/jamietwimbledon -Antoinette Mercurio
The Jealous Girlfriends
Originally released in 2006, the Jealous Girlfriends’ debut album has been re-released this year on the label Good Fences. The new version features an overhaul in the track order as well as a new song, the opener “Secret Identity,” which feels like a haunting, guitar-swirling dream. The male and female duet and dueling vocals of Josh Abbott and Holly Miranda are interesting and unique. “Roboxulla” opens with just Miranda and an upbeat piano tune, hinting of heading into a soft rock direction before layering in the guitars and blazing a new path. The slow, ballad-like closer, “Carry Me” lulls the album to sleep, carried by Miranda’s soothing voice. It’s more than enough to keep the album feeling like a fuzzy dream worth remembering. http://www.thejealousgirlfriends.com/ -Jon Brazeau
Jeff Martin appears to be the price we have to pay for being Canadian, much like softwood lumber disputes and baby seal killing.
Jen Militia
Channelling the political savvy and vocal sensibilities of Rage Against the Machine – not to mention liberal helpings of revolutionary propaganda art – Jen Militia have crafted a sound fit to tear down the walls of capitalist oppression… or whatever. They call it “Commando Pop” and explain that “if you take the sexiness of hip hop and the swagger of punk rock then you pretty much know what we’re about,” and I don’t think it can be put much better. It’s easy to be cynical about revolution-driven pop in today’s image-obsessed and seemingly doomed political environment, but Jen Militia bring a certain fresh je ne sais quoi to the mix. Maybe it’s Trinidadian born frontman Mike Dainjah’s catchy vocals. Maybe it’s Jen Militia’s impressive ability to weave politically conscious themes into incredibly catchy funk-infused hip-hop. Either way, what they’ve got going here is something worth taking note of. Even if the only revolution it heralds is confined to the dance floor. - James Sandham All the hallmarks are here: the slide guitar, the organ, the crystal-clear vocals and of course, the heartbreak. Have I heard this album before? Is it yet another country- inspired female singer-songwriter? On first glance, this album could be dismissed as this. But it is so much more than that. Grant has inspired unforgettable vocals that have been captured to perfection in CBC’s studio H in Halifax. Harking from Prince Edward Island, Grant crafts an album the draws you in as she sings of dreamers and lovers and rainy days. A standout track is, “Unique New York,” which almost recalls Broken Social Scene mixed with the exotic vocals of Regina Spektor. The first single, “Dreamer” is another must-hear as she repeats the word “dreamer” over glorious layered strings and drums. Featuring guests like Ron Sexsmith (on “In a Brown House) and Jill Barber, this album is a little piece of Canada that deserves to be heard by people far and wide. -Alice Uribe
On first spin the latest from Toronto singer/songwriter Jerry Leger makes you think you’ve put in the wrong album. With minimalist production, he’s managed to revive the appealing elements of Bob Dylan and Elvis Costello that were surely disappearing beneath today’s ambiguous production standards. Farewell Ghost Town carries the torch of preservation. From the opening track “Hat on Your Head” Leger delivers folk rock in an old fashioned, albeit not dated, style. His vocals have a gritty, slightly off-key Neil Young approach. And his backing band, The Situation, effectively feed his folk-rock tendencies. The folk-worthy steel guitar on “Love is Meant to be Blue” perfectly accompanies the Mick Jagger styled ballad and has a genuine classic feel to it. It is baffling how Leger is able to effectively use vintage production techniques and muddy guitar to temporarily revive the classic folk sound. Another comparison, which Leger himself admits in his bio, is to Hank Williams. Much like Williams, Leger weaves interesting stories about love, anger and the realism of everyday life. His songs wouldn’t be out of place as background music for drinking cheap whiskey in gritty bars. One of the album’s standout tracks is “On Your Own.” It’s the classic boy / girl love song but it’s delivered in a honky-tonk cowboy way. This is one song where modern production tactics emerge from deep in the mix. The steel guitar permeates through the layered acoustic guitar and rock drumming. This album will sit nicely atop a stack of classic rock vinyl LPs near the turntable and CD player. - Andrew Seale
Jesse Malin
Singer-songwriter Jesse Malin, ex-frontman of D Generation, and long-time stalwart of the New York City music scene is back with his third long-player, titled with the suitably Springsteen-esque name Glitter in the Gutter. He’s even brought the Boss along for the ride, adding Springsteen’s wizened vocals to album highlight “Broken Heart” (which also features long-time Malin familiar Ryan Adams on electric guitar). Putting out an all-points bulletin for friends and favours, Malin has packed the album with guest appearances: along with the aforementioned Adams and Springsteen, he’s got a Wallflower, a Foo Fighter, and a Queen of the Stone Age to help with guitars and vocals. A countrified rock album that wouldn’t sound out of place (or time) in a Chevy Truck ad from 1984 (see lyrics “Raised on robbery and rock n’roll / Moving to the Motor City Soul”), Glitter in the Gutter walks dangerously close to (and in some cases, trips over) the line separating it from the much-feared Adult Oriented Rock classification. Indeed, much of the album sounds like Counting Crows or, worse, Soul Asylum. This is not to say the album is bad; it’ll make a great birthday present for your cool aunt. www.adelinerecords.com - John Tracey
The grey washed covers of a sad, dark, lonely tree
and solitary diagonal telephone, anchored by wires on one side that
fall off into the grey on the other, pull me into gloom before I break
into an only slightly happier first track, "Silver." The sweetness of
sound and grounded instruments keep me from falling under into sadness,
but it's a sadness I don't mind being in as long as Justin K. Broadrick
keeps singing his melodies to me.
Jets Overhead
Formed in 2003, this Victoria, BC quintet has been slowly but steadily building a sizeable fan base on the strength of their drifting, psychedelic-influenced rock and roll. And with the release of Bridges, their debut LP, they appear ready to bring that sound to an even broader audience, with appearances already booked in the UK. A conventional five-piece, their sound is highly comparable to the big names with whom they’ve played: The Stills, 54*40, Stars, and the Dandy Warhols. What makes this group unique as a band? Very little other than the fact that they craft highly enjoyable if somewhat conventional rock and roll. There’s no gimmicks. No crazy costumes or hair. Just straight up rock and roll delivered with substance, skill, and singer Adam Kittredge’s clear passion for what he’s doing. Collaborators on the recent War Child CD, of which 100% of profits go to War Child’s humanitarian work, Jets Overhead seem like they have their hearts as well as their ears in the right place. Check ’em at www.jetsoverhead.com. - James Sandham
The only possible fault with this album is that it's only an EP. The six
short songs that comprise The Blood in my Body come to an end far too
quickly. Like a taste of aural ambrosia, they leave the listener
yearning for more, a tragedy only compounded by the fact that this is a
debut EP - there's not even a back clogue to retreat to until the LP
is released. But as Montreal-born Robitaille is a musical debutant, such
shortcomings can perhaps be forgiven. His instinct for catchy hooks,
intoxicatingly vivid imagery, and softly spoken yet always poignant
lyrics, more than compensate for his titillating yet sparse offering of
musical gems. With a sound that hovers somewhere between Leonard Cohen,
the Velvet Underground, and Nick Drake, Robitaille is a sure bet for
anyone appreciative of the singer-songwriter genre. Currently based in
Brooklyn, Robitaille is set to release his second album with Rhythmbank
later this year.
Jill
Cunniff
City Beach is the debut solo release of Jill Cunniff, one of the founders of nineties female rock group, Luscious Jackson. The opening track, “Lazy Girls” has a laid back groove that instantly caught my attention and Cunniff manages to keep my attention by changing up the beats from song to song. The CD is appropriately named City Beach because the music reminds me of a lazy hot summer day. It’s music that makes you smile. Her melodic vocals combined with her catchy songwriting makes tracks like “Eye Candy” extremely radio friendly; in a Sheryl Crowe sort of way. Although she still brings back some of the funkified lazy hip-hop grooves that was the signature sound of Luscious Jackson, this album is a lot “poppier.” - Liz Lulu
Jim Bryson
Taking a break from touring as part of Kathleen Edwards and Howie Gelb’s
bands, Jim Bryson has recorded and released Where the Bungalows Roam
his third solo record. The album is a hushed easy flowing affair that
doesn’t grab one’s attention but doesn’t necessarily need to.
The album’s biggest fault is Bryson’s decision to sing every song in
soft and near speaking voice level. This causes the melodies to sound
stilted and inhibits the songs from really taking off. The result is an
album that plateaus early on with successive tracks melting into one
another. A little variety would have perked the album up and given more
weight to the standouts like “Death by Vibration” a song Bryson appears
to have recorded with a sore throat. The result is a scratchy rough
delivery that adds an urgency to the lines “it’s just my death/ and it’s
by vibration”. - Sam Stilson
Ever wonder what happened to those rock bands who play at dive clubs once or twice and then you never see them again? Well, contrary to what you may think, that band’s still around and chances are they’re still rockin’ out harder and better than that first day they jumped on stage. That’s the idea behind Joe Bonomo’s book Sweat: The Story of the Fleshtones, America’s Garage Band. Forget the Top 40 hits or heavily-rotated MTV videos, meet The Fleshtones – an obscure, old school and unknown band from New York who have shared the stage with R.E.M. and The Police but never quite reached the zenith of success like Sting and his bandmates did. The book chronicles the coming together of the (currently) four-piece band after numerous line-up changes and the token sex, drugs and rock and roll lifestyle. Surprisingly, even minor bands such as The Fleshtones enjoy the debauchery of a rock star’s life even if they’re a bunch of nobodies in the rock world. Which brings us to the success of Bonomo’s book; rather than chalk up the band to be some amazing quartet who’ve surpassed their time in the spotlight (or lack of in this case), he focuses on their longevity and passion. Thirty years in the game and no hits to be accounted for but the band still holds it together because of their love, their pure unadulterated love of rock and roll. Bonomo traces their past, coming from the same New York music scene as Blondie, Talking Heads and The Ramones. And while these bands have come and gone, Bonomo emphasizes the endurance and crazy ass drive The Fleshtones maintained in the fickle and phony ever-changing music industry. He avoids the kiss ass, constant praising of the band and tells it like it is: they were screwed over by record companies, they barely got signed to any labels, they received numerous mixed reviews and trekked all over North America and Europe in a dingy van, living hand-to-mouth with no promise of stardom. There’s no glamour, there’s no fame and there’s definitely no riches. But that’s the beauty of The Fleshtones’ story – they are actually one of the few bands out there who can honestly say “they’re all about the music” and mean it. Bonomo’s book is a good read. Just when you roll your eyes at the ungrateful rock stars of the world and you try to convince yourself to never buy another degenerate musician’s album ever again, The Fleshtones pop into your head and you realize there’s hope. Hope that not all bands are after the big bucks, that not all rock stars are sleazy jerks and that the music industry can’t infect everyone’s soul with greed and gluttony. Yes people, The Fleshtones are proof that one can actually be content making music and playing show after show without the dirty dreams of making it big and becoming a bona fide star. -Antoinette Mercurio
The
Velvet Underground and Nico
As part of an ongoing series, published by Continuum Books 33 1/3 series focusing on significant albums, it would only be a matter of time when the subject of the first Velvet Underground album would be covered and included in this series. And now it has, coming in at number eleven, written by producer and co-founder of Fort Apache Studios, Joe Harvard. Harvard's main goal is simple: cover the most interesting aspects of the creation of the first Velvet Underground album, from its genesis to its completion, while attempting to navigate through the myths and contradictory tales now canonized in popular culture. On this, Harvard does a satisfactory job of covering this fascinating album. Harvard tries to provide a balanced outlook of all the colourful characters involved in the albums creations and attempts to construct their actual contributions using as many sources as possible to piece together the events and their role in it. For example, although Warhol was not a producer and didn't contribute in that role, beyond lending his name to the cover of the album, he did provide valuable guidance in other areas, suggesting minuet changes to songs for example, but even more importantly, he brought Nico into the fold, a move considered indispensable to this album. As well, when investigating Lou Reed's contention that the album was produced "live" in the studio, Harvard, using his producing experience and by carefully deconstructing the available evidence at hand, including the use of photographs, reasoned that, even though the album was created in as few takes as possible, it was not the "live" album Reed claimed. There was in fact the use of overdubs. But the most enjoyable area of this book would have to be where Harvard covers each song on the album, offering fascinating bits of information and trivia for one to digest. However, this book was not a flawless piece. I found that there were quite a few problems with the writing. It seemed the book lacked a good editor as there were grammar and spelling mistakes abound, numerous enough to take notice of and question the editor's competence. Tied to this was the use of some feeble metaphors and annoying words, "Yowsa!" being one of them. I realize that Harvard is not a full-fledged writer. Nevertheless, this is not a cartoon, rather an honest attempt to construct and highlight some of the more interesting characteristics of the genesis of this album. These terms could easily have been avoided or key-stroked out. As well, the book seemed to have been designed to be read in a linear format, yet the Ludlow demos aren't even discussed until halfway through the book, for example, well after the narrative had taken us to the near completion of the album. But by biggest criticism would have to be on the role Jonathon Richman plays in this book. He is introduced and historicised in the book (wait, I thought this was a book on the first Velvets album?) and at some points, his commentary is used as fact. Now, Richman may have been greatly influenced by this work, but this was not one of the themes Harvard laid out. An entire catalogue could have been devoted to the influence the Velvets had on the alternative music world on individuals more important then Richman. Rather, it seems that Harvard took advantage of someone he had close by him to provide some "expert" opinion. This also ties into the influence the album had on Harvard as well, which the author felt the need to share with the reader. Harvard provides us with a brief biography on himself and on the effect the album had on him and his career, something I neither expected nor cared to read about to be honest. Finally, although one could see that Harvard tried his best to construct an interesting and insightful book, I find the content just did not justify the price marked on the cover. At $10.95 US, you could pickup the first album and begin your own exploration in the greatness of this album. Or better still, save your money and pick up the fabulous box-set, Peel Slowly and See, and read David Fricke's essay on the history of the band included in the package. Overall, an interesting attempt to cover one of music's most important albums, but let down by the lack of a good editor, thereby exposing the amateurness and inexperience of the author.
Belal
Khallad
With Civilians being his tenth album, no one can argue that Joe Henry doesn’t have the experience to make music. It’s not surprising that the extremely talented singer/songwriter/producer has been around for as long he has, and Civilians is clear proof of that fact. The album at it’s core follows Henry’s folk roots all the way through but manages to stay more than engaging, especially in tracks like the upbeat “Time Is A Lion” which comes out of left field with an arsenal of bluesy riffs. Henry draws from his own experiences and influences as a producer in the production and creation of Civilians, having produced for Ani DiFranco, Aimee Mann, and even worked with Loudon Wainwright III on the soundtrack for this summer’s hit comedy “Knocked Up.” Recorded, mixed and produced by Henry at his home studio, Civilians stands as a solid justification of Henry’s longevity, a difficult thing to achieve for any artist who’s managed to stay relevant for over a decade. http://www.joehenrylovesyoumadly.com/ - Joe Chammas
Joel Plaskett Emergency
After a short but spectacular solo jaunt as a presumably less panicked
Joel Plaskett, Mr. Halifax has returned to the Emergency and produced a
hit-and-miss concept album named, Ashtray Rock, a musical tale of
best friends, music, love and betrayal and how they all wind up in bed
together. The album succeeds in spades but when it slips it crashes with
a thud and what emerges from the dust is a piece of music that is equal
parts suck and spectacular.
Joel’s reverence for this period of his life is obvious and one can’t
help but think he recorded fantastic album closer “Soundtrack for the
Night” with a huge smile on his face. - Sam Stilson
The biggest problem facing any bluesman making an album is “how do you take a boring, repetitive sound that’s been done to death and make it sound new, hip and fresh?” Well, for blues vet John Hammond the answer was simple, find someone new, hip and fresh to produce it. Enter G-Love, of Special Sauce fame. The two had been accidentally meeting on several serendipitous occasions and decided that fate was asking for a collaboration, Push Comes to Shove is the fruit of that labour. For the blues purists who feared that the Hammond-G.Love connection might pervert or ‘modernize’ Hammond’s traditional sound (aside from the awkward hip-hop refrain on the otherwise intriguing, “I’m Tore Down”), this is pure blues.
The album is a collection of standards, a few John Hammond originals, a
G.Love track and a refreshing cover of his friend Tom Waits’ “Cold
Water”. The recordings on this album, all analog, feature a ballsy
guttural blues sound. Rusty harmonicas screech over slamming door drums
and it’s all led by Hammond’s guitar licks and some amazing piano work
by Bruce Katz. For a foot-stomping, Amen-hollering blues fan this album
is right on the money. Those in search of a more broken-hearted blues
however may go home disappointed, Hammond and G. Love aren’t interested
in hanging their heads, this is a good time record and 65 year old John
Hammond sounds like he’s having a hell of a lot of fun.
www.johnhammond.com - Sam Stilson
John
Tucker Must Die I meant to give this CD to my girlfriend, so that she could write an interesting article of media representation of something or other in music accompanying film. She’s quite bright. But she’s mad at me right now and I just plain don’t like the derivative, juvenile, and ham-fisted mimicry that forms the bulk of this album Crap. Make sure you get the capital ‘C.’ You see, this is why I’m currently on the prowl, er, on the lookout for a young writer who can listen to all this silly drivel without giving it the ‘when I was your age’ edge. Because when I was your age, my music sucked too. The All-American Rejects shouldn’t be on the lead track of their own CD, let alone a soundtrack. The standard smattering of now cliché new wave revivalists and power pop patsies slaughter their own elementary compositions, which is to say those songs that weren’t actually written by the Matrix or someone. “Instantly Gratified,” People in Planes contribution to the album, is perhaps the strongest track, though as a thoroughly decent number amongst drivel it has an unfair advantage, as do OK Go, Nada Surf, and the Camper Van Beethovenesque jump of Caesars. On the other hand, the single worst track I have heard this year might very well be Quietdrive’s cover of “Time After Time,” which is not only slaughtered with clumsy pawing of instruments but also the always timeless yet constantly tired teenage sense of angst and limited imagination that accompanies this whole affair. *For the youngins, Camper Van Beethoven is just Gogol Bordello spelled backwards. www.johntuckeralbum.com -Christopher Langer
John Wort Hannam John Wort Hannam looks like Billy Bob Thorton, hails from rural Alberta, and does roots-country like no one’s business. Although he doesn’t approach the genre with as creativity as some of his alt-country contemporaries - boundary-pushers like the United Steel Workers of Montreal - he still manages to create an impressive and engaging kind of music. While it may not exactly be original, it sounds authentic, and his bio seems to back this up. He’s a 2005 CBC Galaxie Rising Star Winner as well as the winner of the 2004 Calgary Folk Fest Songwriting Competition and the NCRA 2005 Dig Your Roots Songwriting Competition. As this seems to suggest, the main appeal of Hannam is primarily due to his song writing ability. Lyrics like “there’s no glamour for a farmer’s wife, so I can understand / A lifetime of getting by was not what you had planned” - from opening track “10,000 Acres” - have an uncanny ability to connect with the listener, whether you’re struggling on the farm or deep downtown. It’s classic white working-class blues, a sort of “prairie Bruce Springsteen” but with more down-home twang. Perhaps a little to mainstream or honky-tonk for some, it certainly has its niche nonetheless. - James Sandham
Johnny Fiasco
Chicago’s Johnny Fiasco produces some sweet, sweet House juice on Nectar Vol. 2. The 14-track mix is a meticulous blend of cool, fresh grooves and high-energy beats. Warped funk tracks such as Rhythm Plate’s “Inside Me” featuring Astral will ease you into the compilation’s subtle jazz melodies of Vernon and Dacosta’s “As Darkness Falls.” Things pick up a bit halfway through with Jason Merle’s “Sound Bomber” and Eddie Leader’s “The Pit.” These tracks definitely set the stage for the next few tracks that all carry that unique, energetic house club flair. Spettro’s “Nothing Particular” changes it up with a subtle tribal nuance, a taste of the CD mellowing out and coming to an end. This compilation is a great blend of chill grooves, lively beats and worldly dynamism. Fiasco obviously took his time putting these tracks together and pulls it off effortlessly. A delightful treat to listen to, either when you’re getting ready to go out or when you’re at the club or even, when you’re getting ready to leave the club. -Antoinette Mercurio
Joseph Israel Press play and you will step inside a place of worship. And whether you are dressed in your finest threads or not, you will surely be welcomed with open arms. Joseph Israel’s strong debut album, Gone Are the Days, scheduled for release on March 20, 2007, is about a universal reaching to a congregation that wants to cast darkness, violence and oppression to a land faraway. And with feature appearances by reggae artists Luciano and Mikey General, this is a ministerial mission worthy of submission. Gone are the Days was born in Kingston, Jamaica, in the famed womb of Tuff Gong Studios, where Bob Marley and his son’s legacy albums were also conceived. Set in classic reggae stylee, accessorized with saxophone and electric guitar motifs, the slow tempoed songs move in groovy predictable delight. Joseph’s soulful and clear, Marley reminiscent voice, preaches sermons with even clearer messages, reflective in his song titles, “Truth” and “Universal Love”. Consistent with reggae convention, there is heavy biblical referencing, but add Joseph’s homage to his Israeli roots in the mix in “Jerusalem”, and you have a personalized island music twist. Yet this island is still universally accessible as the straightforward lyricism is a musical plea for humanity to transcend their evil ways and connect to a higher spiritual state. The 15-track mandate, complemented by acoustic guitar and piano, is one of idealism and optimism. And to complete the rituals of music worship, coin phrases are repeated with endless (and at times tiresome) fashion and further reinforced by his female choir: Erica Newell and Rochelle Bradshaw who have also backed up reggae stars, Ziggy Marley and Luciano. Overall this album is sure to ignite constant Sunday state and is deserving of a sincere, Amen! -*cAthy Lee
Jose Gonzalez http://www.myspace.com/josegonzalez
Jose Gonzalez’s latest album, Veneer, is a solid
piece of intimate song writing and guitarmanship. And while Gonzalez
has performed previously in a variety of punk and hardcore bands, as
well as his more experd
firmly in the tradition of balladeers such as Nick Drake and Simon and
Garfunkel. The eleven tracks on this Argentinean-born Swedish
songster’s album unfold with both touching simplicity and, at times,
dazzling complexity. Gonzalez’s classically inspired guitar work is
soft but powerful, and beautifully compliments his gently spoken,
socially astute lyrics. And while Veneer, released three years ago
overseas, has earned Gonzalez platinum and near double platinum
certification in the UK and Ireland respectively, he remains a relative
unknown on this side of the Atlantic. His Mute Records North American
release will hopefully rectify that situation. Perfect listening for
lazy nights this summer.
Joseph Arthur & the Lonely Astronauts
- Sam Stilson
Joss Stone I didn’t think it was possible for Joss Stone to get any better but she’s proved me wrong with her latest release Introducing Joss Stone. The Brit soul-singer has managed to go deeper into her musical soul roots and unleash a solid, vintage Motown record. After already releasing two albums, the fresh-faced 19-year-old has embraced her first love – music – and let loose a passionate love affair full of soulful grooves and sexy lyrics. She even dedicates an entire song to her first love aptly entitled, “Music”, where reclusive rapper/singer Lauryn Hill comes out of hiding to lend some vocal support to the touching mid-tempo ballad. Her hip-hop collaborations don’t stop there. The track “Tell Me What We’re Gonna Do Now” enlists the help of Common and successfully marries a touch of Bob Marley’s “No Woman, No Cry” to the melodic influence of Gladys Knight’s “Midnight Train To Georgia.” The first single “Tell Me ‘Bout It” reveals the freak in Stone and rounds up the boldness of classic, back-up singing girl grooves. As much as Stone sticks to the vintage side of soul on most of her songs, she adds a modern twist to “Proper Nice” and drops a hot drum-percussion-harp mix that bespeaks a bit of a Floetry influence on the track. Introducing Joss Stone is a good reflection of Stone’s growth as a songwriter and singer. It’s a peek into her heart and a vision of her future as a necessary staple in the music business. What a voice – pure, rich and smooth – Joss Stone can really belt it out and more importantly, she means it. Ladies and gentlemen, Joss Stone has just officially been introduced to the real beginning of her career. -Antoinette Mercurio
back
to top
This album is a psychedelic melding of soothing
melodies and contemporary electronic-po-mo-pop. Often danceable, and
yet at the same time, flawless bedroom fare – Detroit band, Judah
Johnson has a sonic sensibility that fuses new wave aesthetics with
moments of arena rock grunge pop goodness. This leaves some songs
fluttering and schizophrenic at times. For a band with five years of
experience, and this being their second full-length release, they seem
hesitant through much of the performance- which is, on a technical
level, quite enjoyable to listen to. The live drums within the mix of
bass, guitar and synth are a consistently organic element within the
smooth and languid electric grooves. There are several short electronic
instrumental tracks interspersed between longer, more elaborate tracks.
The sparse vocalization on Be Where I Be is gentle, vulnerable, and
determined - rarely overstated, and courteous to the music for telling
its own story. Reluctantly bleak, and ultimately hopeful, Judah
Johnson’s static-interspersed music maintains a clarity and awareness
that centres on the 21st century. A crescendo is reached in the
dramatic peaks of Track 11, ‘Tommi (Tears in a bottle)’, in which
sweeping diminished keyboard lines and an intensely driving rhythm keep
the listener anxiously awaiting a finale – it scared my girlfriend.
Much more are the higher energy tunes which start the album, the softer
‘Niagara Walls’ works fair enough, but begins to stagnate after the
first couple of minutes. This is a problem which eventually leads to
the album’s mediocrity.
DC group Jukebox The Ghost have been gaining momentum and a steady following lately, largely due to their playfully rocking live shows. Their self-titled EP seems to back up all the hype that fans have been spreading about this three-piece outfit. Kicking things off with “Good Day” the set starts with a terrific piano line that is complimented by quick guitar riffs and a very subtle vocal part. On “Hold It In” the group serves up lyrics that reflects the self-conscious anxieties of teen-dom. The instrumentation and frustrated vocals begin to build tension in the listener as well until the whole thing comes to a breaking point. Instead of screaming in exasperation though they throw in a fun little piano solo, or a falsetto “whoo.” While clearly any three elements (piano/guitar/vocal) could dominate a track, the mix is always even. It’s a nice change up to hear a piano solo where one expects a ripping guitar from time to time. Thornewill’s vocals and piano playing are likely to draw comparisons to Ben Folds, and the song “Victoria” has something very Billy Joel about it. That said though, Jukebox the Ghost seem a bit more optimistic and content to just make the listener smile along with them. www.myspace.com/jukeboxtheghost -Daniel Demois |
Want to be kept informed on all of Spill Magazine's biggest news and updates?
|