Biscuits, Triscuits…

Woods

At Echo Lake

Woodsist

In May of 2010, Woods released their fifth full-length album and I couldn’t take the time on it to really see it for what it is until now. One might listen to Woods and feel that there’s nowhere to really go from here when the key factor is Jeremy Earl’s vocals, but I found a serenity in this album that was not present in Songs of Shame.

Songs of Shame was at war with itself, struggling with political anthems and daunting, dark solos countered by acoustic guitar and mellow vocals. Woods seem to have come to peace with the struggles and shadows that overwhelmed their first album. At Echo Lake is lighter, more thought out and precise in it’s stylization and methods of instrumentation. Neither is better, both are extremely amazing pieces of work, but the growth that can be seen from one to the other is what makes Woods such great artists.

They say so themselves in the glinting tune, “Suffering Season,” where they sing, “who knows what tomorrow might bring…” as they ooh along.  The song has such depth but also an airiness that allows them to sing such hopeful (or chilling) phrases as this. Each song has a clarity and an uplifting drive; glimpses of maturity and strength, clarity and purpose in their music that has only increased with time.

There is much more of a country-twang present on this record, showing a clear progression in Woods’ style, leading them down the path of country-inspired lo-fi indie rock that’s still infused with their winding jammy guitar style. Take for instance the song, “Just Fine,” which starts with acoustic guitar and rattling snare as Jeremy Earl’s vocals ring in a somewhat Americana style of melody.  “Death Rattles,” feels very much like it could have been on the previous record with low bass and “oooh’s and “woah’s,” but it has more of an angle to it, feels a little cleaner, even in it’s placement and use of guitar solos. Woods still has plenty of major jam sessions, blaring build ups of weird noise and anthemic acoustic songs, but the poignancy and intent is much more noticeable on At Echo Lake.

by Lauren Piper

Broken Social Scene

Forgiveness Rock Record

Arts & Crafts

When this album was released, it was pretty hard to know what to expect. It has been years since their self-titled album was released, and they’ve all been doing side projects in the meantime. The question was, “do they still have it?” and also, “do I still want it?”

Broken Social Scene can sometimes be overindulgent, but in the way that they know exactly how to indulge and how to play to human emotions with their music (ie: soft cooing vocals, and just the right amount of jangle-y guitar before a breakdown). It’s hard to not feel tricked sometimes, like they’ve just got it down to a science and aren’t really creating so much as selling something they know we want.

Forgiveness Rock Record proved me wrong, it disproved my cynicism and my fear of being let down by music that’s so consistently good, and gave me a kick in the ass in terms of reading too far into the way music is made sometimes. Their warm guitar tones and lulling vocals, absurdist lyrics and unbelievable build-ups all remain and are as breathtaking as ever. This album is full in so many aspects, reaching all over the spectrum in terms of styles and influences, but it still sounds like them. What is different this time is the energy; there’s a laid back style which allows for elements to slip through that may have been there before but were never noticed.

The first song on the album “World Sick,” reels the listener in with low drums and high pitched guitar gleans that become winding and catchy. The lyrics are remarkable in the concept of “world sick” to the point of awe. So yeah, it’s Broken Social Scene, but it feels new, not overdone, not tired. When the Kevin Drew’s vocals come in on the first song, they sell the entire album. One needs to remind themself that there is more to come can’t be sold too soon, but they just keep them coming, one giant gooey glob of engulfing tune after another.

Forgiveness Rock Record feels like a journey. Maybe because I listened to it on a bus, or maybe because every song is a different piece of time, a different section of the earth, a new element of sound. They explore the shapes of their sound with instruments, transforming glockenspiel into diamonds and wind instruments into circles with their whimsical nature.

Maintaining their use of strange lyrics and funny phrasing, the song “Texaco Bitches,” bleeds like a teenage anthem out of the speakers. There are upbeat casiotone bleeps and jumpy drums keeping a clunky, excited energy about it in a way that it sometimes feels only Canadian bands can do. They do all this but maintain the original form of Broken Social Scene, they don’t lose their style and their ambition but they add bird noises and ambience, heavy electronic synth elements, broken down harmonies and fucked up auto-tune. These aspects aren’t even new, just reborn.

There can’t be any name-dropping because after you listen to it once, any references to other bands fall apart beneath the heavy, influential lull that is this album. It feels narcotic and smooth, organic and distinctive but no bands can be named; they get swallowed up and spit out in an almost unrecognizable form unless you scrutinize to the point of un-enjoyment, and what is the fun in that?

The band works in strings, horns, tribal drums and robot vocals in a way that fits perfectly in their baroque puzzle-piece style. The slippery, electronic induced tune, “All to all” cleverly uses the words “all to all” to sing “all to all ultimatum.” Broken Social seems to test our intelligence with their music, building it up to be larger than life but breaking it down in this album, freeze-framing elements of beauty or strangeness, giving more than they have to in a 14-song album. I do feel like this is a forgiveness rock record, and I hope that every other band forgives them for rocking so damn hard.

-Lauren Piper

Best Coast

“Our Deal”

Best Coast’s Beth Consentino has just released the album Crazy for You and the two songs above are just snippets from what it consists of. It’s sugar-y sweet and adorably catchy, but somehow not enough to piss one of or seem trite. Enjoy the above tunes til I get my act together…

There’s a lot to catch up on, but firstly, The New Bomb Turks @ The Bell House 6/26

The New Bomb Turks are a punk band from the 90′s who was not broken up persay. They formally called it quits in 2002, only to start playing every so often about five years after that. It’s a rare occasion as far as I know though. This year though, the frontman, Eric Davidson,  released the book We Never Learn: The Gunk Punk Undergut, 1988-2001 and the band played his book release part at the Bell House on June 26.

The night began with readings by Eric Davidson, some video clips of bands featured in his book, and then the Ex-Whites opened the night followed by LiveFastDie, playing their first show in nearly a year. LiveFastDie were pretty incredible, definitely worth checking out, though several of their albums are out of print.

The reason I haven’t written about it until now was that I wanted to read the book, which I bought that night and write about both at the same time. But sometimes things don’t work out, like the book actually being in my physical possession. So for now, it’s just straight up show review of the most punk rock show I’ve ever been to in my life.

My familiarity with the New Bomb Turks came from dvds and snippets from records and just the knowledge that they were fucking awesome. The thought that I would ever get to see them live was nothing that ever crossed my mind. It was just one of those, “well…missed that boat…” types of things. But sometimes boats make detours, and sometimes they come back, and in this case they reunite for a couple shows just for the fun of it.

Their sound is straight forward punk rock, raw and honest, yet sleazy and and guilty of being sophomoric and ridiculous in an absolutely sardonic way. They do it right though, they didn’t market it like assholes, and they don’t fuck around, it’s fun, it’s dirty, it’s absolutely messy in a wonderfully old school way. With blazing drums, distorted guitar solos, and a bass that booms unabashedly, their sound beats anything tame into absolute oblivion. Davidson’s vocals are crude and slick, yelling and snarling with a slight melody to them. And live, the man seems as thought he is going to eat a person whole.

The energy and pure joy that rolled of the stage that night was invigorating and contagious. Despite that fact that I (the tiniest girl ever) was in fact landed on by Eric Davidson at one point in the night did not stop me from rocking the fuck out during the last 25 minutes of the show, bruises or no bruises. The man seemed as though he was breathing fire and needed to jump, dance, kick, scream, and grab anything in sight in order not to explode. The band itself was right on, banging and blasting the whole way through their encore. Every body in that crowd was screaming at the top of their lungs, being pushed back and forth, knocked down from time to time. It was the rowdiest, most enthused crowd I have ever seen. By the end of the night, the stage was covered in sweat, beer, and god knows what else. The corners of the book I had purchased and hid under the stage had the curled and browned from the heat and sweat, but it couldn’t have been a better souvenir.

Lovvers

OCD Go Go Go Girls

Wichita Recordings

Sometimes I like to go back in time, and listen to some straight-forward punk with simplistic vocals and some lo-fi distorted guitar pedals. Lovvers gives exactly that: quick hollows drums, blazing guitar melodies, blistered bass-lines and melodic, simple vocals that echo and are only half-understood. I was supposed to review this album months ago, but got caught up in being “busy.” I thought about not writing about it, what’s the loss right? But it seemed worth it. The album is fun as shit, and I haven’t written about a band from the UK in…quite a while…ever?

“Four Count” blares forth with a fun, guitar bobbing melody as the lead singer wails joyfully some echoed nonsense that is incomprehensible and . They are a little bit Clash, a bit more post-punk with blaring distortion and muddy mixes of sounds. Their tunes belt out and wind with neat guitar solos and clashing drums, everything feels like it’s rejoicing in every song on this album.

“100 Flowers” starts with a bass-y jet plane sound that builds into singing and an explosion instruments. The guitar hurriedly jams out a riff as the bass follows the vocals melody. “Golden Bars Blue” is acoustic, with no drums but still feels upbeat and distinctly basement friendly and lover friendly. It is a little bit like an acoustic, punk blues and it creates a really warm, gentle sound.

There’s noisy music and there’s melodic music. This combines the two with a perfect equality and carefree energy that it’s not too simplistic or too obnoxious, it’s just fun and exciting. It makes one want to dance, maybe bump into other people, perhaps even jump up and down . It’s some moving music. These Lovvers. I recommend we get into it.

Oh and they have a new 7” out called Strangers

http://lovvers-letscommunicate.blogspot.com/

Joanna Newsom

Have One On Me

Drag City

Finding the time to give a triple album release such as this as much thought and listen as it deserves is really difficult when listening to music all day is not a full-time job. Anything is bound to become a task when it takes up so much time. That being said, it was a beautiful endless task; really getting to know this album that bleats and plinks and rises and falls with such complex instrumentation and creative prose.

It takes one type of mood to just lay down and listen to the angelic vocals of Joanna Newsom pierce through the speakers, seeing as she creates a purgatory-esque catatonic mood with her songs. This can be easily attainable and always enjoyable, it provides a space for one to ignore their own thoughts and just listen to Newsom spew her thoughts aloud. But it takes another mood to be able to listen to and really try to get down and dirty with her record and catch every quip, pun, and reference that she drops as there are quite a lot. That mood is a lot harder to get into, as enjoyable as she is, to really understand where she is coming from is rough work, it is just too dense for a casual observer to just make an observation from one or two listens.

That density only comes when you need to analyze her works in a short time. Otherwise, the density is sponge-y and sucks the listener into the syrup-y mass of instruments and Newsom’s captivating storytelling.  The album itself, cover, photos, and all is eclectic and amazingly Americana. Much of the change from Ys to this album comes in the conciseness, and the more straightforward storytelling than the wispy train of thought style lyricism and musicianship displayed in the previous. This album is still extremely epic, from the crazy picture on the front with a Cleopatra-esque Newsom surrounded by peacocks, random furniture to her nine to eleven minute songs that rise and fall with such thoughtfulness and fire.

There is a maturity, a strength and an elegance brought to this album from her vocals to the choices in instrumentation. Each disc on Have One on Me still rambles on beautifully but seems to be more clear in it’s purpose. “81” is just absolutely clever with it’s medieval style melody and harp plinking sweetly. With the title, it takes a while to connect that she is saying “A.D. 1,” in reference to a first-person experience finding a plot of land in the Garden of Eden. The creativity and stylistic freedoms taken in this song and all her tunes is just mind-blowingly genius.

Newsom’s ability to write prose and to tell really thought out, winding stories with her words and music is also just incredible. In “Good Intentions Paving Company,” Newsom sings whimsically “And I regret how I said to you/ Honey, just open your heart/ when I’ve got trouble/ even opening a honey jar./ And that, right there, is where we are.” She brings forth really straight forward ideas in ways that have never been suggested before, referencing fairy tales, the bible, and fables, personifying animals, and creating amazing similes, her style is revolutionary to some. In “Jack Rabbits” she almost whispers “I was tired of being drunk./ My face cracked like a joke./ So I swung through here/ like a brace of jackrabbits,/ with their necks all broke.” Not only in lyricism but the  tone and the stylistic aspect of the harp, piano, acoustic guitar and drums all knead themselves together to make these breathtaking songs successful. No song sounds alike, each one takes on it’s own persona and style, dances, cries, bellows, etc…

“Go Long” is one of these eight minute epics that crawls and flows like seasons through it’s verses. Newsom’s voice is serious and swaying as she sings of loneliness and mighty men with passion and intensity that is clear through out the tune. She changes the tone with just a few plucks of the various strings used in the song and moving up an octave as she wails like a harpie. The inflections with which she sings, the emphasis placed on some words and not others is also really wonderful to experience. She draws out words for many notes or will sing an entire phrase in a breath. Everything Newsom does is clearly purposeful and full of creative intent.

Infusing her tunes with blues, gospel, folk and soul, Joanna Newsom gives her all and more in this album; perhaps a little much. She could have held back a bit and saved it for the next one, but that doesn’t seem to be how she rolls. It seems that she does everything to her fullest ability and does not stop until it feels absolutely perfect and jam-packed with feeling. And in that case: mission accomplished.

Suede Jury- “A Shame”

The extremely talented Suede Jury, a Brooklyn-based lyrical hip hop artist, puts together music and sounds with which to carry his flows in a moving manner. His words are something inspirational and distinct; delivered in a smooth, important way with intelligence and compassion. Displaying social awareness and consciousness in a hip, musical style, Suede Jury is someone to keep an eye out for and listen to. Good attitude, good beats, great words.

He also tuned me into this sweet cover of Beyonce’s “Crazy in love”

Antony and the Johnsons- “Crazy in Love” cover

I got tired for a while of Antony and the Johnson’s dramatic, almost operatic style of music, but I have always saved a place for them in my heart and come back to it every now and again. Beyonce’s “Crazy in love” is unavoidable. Even without TV and radio, it’s impossible not to know this song and it gets real old, despite the catchiness. This cover is an amazing reinvention of the song, with gorgeous string and wind instrumentations and hauntingly intense vocals, it feels brand new. The video is a flurry of lights and flashes of images and helps intensify the feelings being evoked  in the new twist on this song. It’s a little eerie, but gorgeous and breathtaking to listen to. The instruments, plucking, quick, tremolo style strings, and even some saxophone, sway and airbrush their way through the song, as an underlying breath holding up the vocals. It is pretty remarkable and worth listen or three.

The Art Museums

Rough Frame EP

Woodsist

It moves so quickly, the Art Museums’ debut EP as it floods the speakers so emphatically, bursting with one to three minute indie-pop ballads, that it is over in nearly a heartbeat. This San Francisco duo brings back fuzzy, happy pop tunes paying a bit of tribute to The Beatles, and Belle and Sebastian but also adding casio keys, electro drum beats and echoed vocals.

The lyrics evoke imagery of artsy kids falling in love and men being led astray by young modern girls. “Sculpture Gardens” sways with ho-hum “la la la’s” and bright guitar chords as the drums clap and bleat and this two man duo sings in harmony, “in the sculpture garden, I would spend the day with you, we could talk of films [and so on]…” While cliche and a bit absurd, they follow through with this pattern in the entire album and it’s almost endearing that they keep it up.

Singing of Paris Cafes and love lost, the slightly awkward, off group singing and bass-y drumming give the Art Museums a real kitschy, sunny sound that is hard not to enjoy. The contrast in low percussion to clanging high hats throws back to a more natural style of drumming, less high end cymbal nonsense just to make it rock. Their tunes are gritty, yet very catchy and modern despite many older, more lo-fi elements to their sound.

Again, in “Paris Cafe” they sing, “In the paris cafe, you can sit and reflect on these things, on vanity, whatever lonliness brings…” Terrible, but wonderful, as their vocals sing both high and low, lulling and sweet. Every song bobs along with quirky affects and melodic vocals to the point that it takes multiple listens to really pay that much attention to the trite lyrics. And once it gets there, its just funny and kindof great. The melodies of every song will get stuck in the listeners’ heads to the point that every Art Museums song will meld together in their memories and just play through as one awesome pop hit.

This is overdue, and I’m sorry. I don’t know why it took so long to write about it. I think upon first listen, the atmosphere and the collective feeling created by Yellow Fever was really exciting and new because it feels old, but it feels like old music morphed into something new. After listening to the album it was almost so comfortable to listen to that it was hard to review it because it was like it’s already known. I already know it, so how could I explore it and explain it.

Yellow Fever

Yellow Fever

Wild World

This Austin band’s first full-length was released in February of this year via Wild World, the Vivian Girls label. The lo-fi, angular bass lines and clinky drums accompanied by glazy, mesmerizing vocals, may seem simplistic but are surprisingly complex as well as catchy. The bass drones and blares as the vocals, which are singing pretty silly lyrics, rise and fall perfectly with the drum beats. In the tune “Psychedelic,” the song feels as it describes, a bit psychedelic with quick strumming bass and harmonizing guitar. The vocals sing, “Why won’t you recognize how psychedelic I am and love me?” The energy given off by the song is absolutely perfect.

Featuring guitar  or keyboards on some songs, Yellow Fever maintains the quality of quirky, bass-y, basement rock.”Alice,” is this winding song with guitar and drums and these hollow female vocals that feel all encompassing and really honest. With harmonies and trudging drums, the song works its way through like one would wander through the forest. Just as the song feels familiar enough to get the drift with instrumental breaks and drums stick clicks, it breaks into light crooning vocals that complete the song perfectly, almost like the chorus in a musical.

Beginning with a twist-y bass line, “Cutest” starts like a song a girl may sing while drinking milkshakes with pals (were life a musical). They sing “The cutest boy I ever saw was sipping cider through a straw.” While the lyrics seem trite, they are pretty on par with the personalities of people who may listen to this music and fit well with the impressively surf-y bass and minimal drumbeats.

Each Yellow Fever song feels like it adds something extra, something to make it sound not just like a good song, and not just like aspects of songs one has heard before. They seem to go out of their way to give more than just what’s necessary to put out a good album. Whether it’s breakdowns or quick speedups of the chorus, they  really make the effort in the most effortless sounding way possible.

The female vocals and harmonies should be so unimpressive in their simplicity, but they are hypnotizing for exactly that reason. With really unique guitar licks and melodic bass riffs, Yellow Fever already give their all. Their self-titled album seems like a showcase of everything they have to offer as a band, and each song melts really easily into the next, maintaining the same feel but definitely differing in style and instrumentation. I’m ready for more.

Cloud Nothings

Turning On

Speaker Tree

There are definitely those young wonders who manage to do something amazing before they turn twenty. I know I’m not one of them, but Dylan Baldi is eighteen years old and somehow managed to create an extremely original album without sounding like a jaded eighteen-year-old. It makes me feel like I’m wasting my life. Luckily, I can feel like I’m wasting my life but also be extremely cheered up by Cloud Nothings‘ jumpy drumbeats and curiously lo-fi but dance-y instrumentals. It’s a great compromise.

With catchy guitar riffs, that move from blues-y to completely organic and jangly, and Baldi’s sensitive but “not a pussy” vocals Turning On is an innovative and stylized record that somehow gives hope that good music is still here and it’s not just old. Baldi’s vocals transform from easy and gentle to a little bit drawling at times, comparing a bit to that of Hamilton Leithauser’s of the Walkmen. The bass-lines walk on tightropes, creating puddles in the light-hearted guitar that bounce unevenly against the lyrics. The album opens with “Can’t Stay Awake,” a quick, spastic jam with blazing electric guitar solos and jumpy vocals. It flows by so crisply that it feels like only minutes have passed til one must start the whole record over, craving the blurry, guitar that winds and swells through Baldi’s washed out vocals.

“Hey cool kid” is a bleating three minute song that could go on repeat forever. The lyrics dance cyclically, sounding like a drug-induced daze as the chorus enters with a chillingly danceable guitar riff. Perfect morning music, these songs have no expiration date and feel almost timeless in their sensibility and creativity. “Water Turns back” is a more low-key tune with vocals that swim and echo as they help add to the growing melody. With completely complementary instrumentals that build and fade slenderly within each song, this album is nearly impossible to stop listening to. Do it. I dare you. While your at it, feel a little worse about not doing something awesome when you were eighteen. And then put this record back on.

-Lauren piper