Phosphorescent
Pride
October 23rd 2007
Dead Oceans Records
Matthew Houck’s performance as Phosphorescent is remarkable. His representation on record is near perfect. Houck’s rustic folk songs have a magic to them; they’ll enchant you with animistic melodies and fill your gut with a deep and anonymous sadness. His voice croons like a lone rancher singing to the stars while some small smoking fire dries the boggy mud on his boots. Pride goes beyond most Americana in defining with startling clarity, even if for a moment, the ambiguous and protean qualities that make American rural culture unique.
Houck’s music descends as much from Welsh and Irish ballads as it does African American hymns and the rhythm of the Lakota Sundance. We have created a mythology about this country and its people; this mythology uses crop fields, prairies, mesas, and deserts as contexts in which our imaginations root the fundamental meaning of the American genesis. Phosphorescent has given us a record that celebrates this known but unspoken communion.
Intended or not, he along and Sam Beam are the standard bearers when it comes to Southern Gothic music. It is a tradition that gives us what history cannot. Animals become metaphors that speak as much of human tragedy as any factual testimonial. Two tracks in particular deserve words of great admiration. A Picture of Our Torn Up Praise opens the record with a sweet and haunting melody. With the pound of each bass drum, the listener becomes more entrenched in the humbling beauty of Phosphorescent’s music. Wolves is perhaps most exhibitive of Houck’s ability to assemble melody, lyrics, and spirit. These two songs alone justify every kind word he receives. Pride is a short yet stunning record. Had I only heard it sooner…
Hypatia Lake
Angels and Demons, Space and Time
July 15th 2008
Reverb Records
There is the band and then there is the music. It is immediately understood when listening to Angels and Demons, Space and Time that Hypatia Lake has put together a record of enormous depth. The band itself is much less a physical entity, as it is a concept. The record is diffuse and eclectic, a psychedelic feast of beautiful noise and exquisite ambiances. The reason for the music’s variance is that Hypatia Lake is not intended to describe a group of musicians, but rather a mythic town. The band conceives itself as somewhat of an abstraction, manifesting the narratives and ethereal space in which the citizens of Hypatia Lake exist. The band must be understood as a thick description, using music genres and style to reify the disparate personalities that go about their business within the township of Hypatia Lake.
As each song passes, it gives way to the next with a deliberate disregard for consistency in tone or structure. There are heavy elements of early 90’s Seattle rock as well as shoegaze pop and classic psychodelia. I would love to hear this band cover War Pig. Every element of the music successfully invokes a particular mood without the jarring shuttle so often accompanied by medleys. I’ll not bother with a laundry list of musicians from which Hypatia Lake surely derive their influence, that list is assembled with such ease that I’ll save you the splendor of hearing all your guitar heroes amalgamated into a fluctuating pallet of raw heart. This band is ultra art rock; they are not progressive or excessively original, but they have had the divine pleasure of assembling a rare and intensely well written record. Not only was each song excellently conceived, but as a group they were assembled with attention and care.
Hypatia Lake recorded with Scott Colburn, an engineer who has worked with the likes of Arcade Fire and Animal Collective. His experience with experimental recording likely added to the record, but the talent exhibited on Angels and Demons, Space and Time by the band is tremendous. Even though the music serves an abstract function, the risky project proved to be entirely worthwhile. This record is excellent. Period.
Bella Noir
Premonitions EP
March 7, 2008
Avow Records
Rarely does a band’s name seek to so completely describe its music. Bella Noir’s brand is dark and beautiful; it is atmospheric and heavily ambient with dim melodies of vampiric proportions. Vampiric in the sense that Bella Noir creates an intoxicating hybridity of sensual romanticism and tremolotic shades. The distorted reverberations blend every peak and valley, allowing coherence but refusing pomp and excess. The heavy set bass lines are the progeny of The Cure’s 1981 Faith, while rooted in gothic psychedelia, skin deep there is a sense of pop that prevents Premonitions from falling victim to obscurity.
Premonitions is a relatively short EP consisting of 6 songs totaling 22 minutes. This brevity owes impart to the extension’s fifth track Bellow, which clocks in at 42 seconds and merely serves as an intro to the closer Distraction. The EP is extraordinarily even in mood. I have not heard a record so flauntingly androgynous since Elliot’s 2004 sea change Song in the Air. As sad as I was to see Elliot go, I am thrilled to see Bella Noir emerge. Their lack of irony is a much needed contribution to Brooklyn’s independent music scene.
Incidentally, Bella Noir will play R Bar in Manhattan July 9th at 8 PM.
With one month left in Darla Farmer’s remix competition the people over at Paper Garden Records are reaching out to the people, encouraging them to “bring the heat!”
The project will allow fans and professionals alike to appear on the upcoming Remixing the Electric Forest to be released at the end of summer 2008. In addition, the record will be on iTune’s front page for featured releases.
This gives people like me and you the opportunity to share a platform with the likes of Tom Campesinos of Los Campesinos, Optronix, among others. If you are interested in the contest, email Paper Garden at darlafarmer@papergardenrecords.com. They will hook you up with the song stems you need to construct your redux.
As Jeff Martin has proved, remix albums can make excellent venues for discovering new artists. This could definitely be your opportunity for exposure to an entirely new fan base. Get to it…
The Black Ghosts
The Black Ghosts
July 8th 2008
IAMSOUND Records
Theo Keating and Simon Lord formerly of The Wiseguys and Simian are a British duo that has coalesced to form The Black Ghosts, an energetic outfit that seeks to rejuvenate the transatlantic electro-rock scene. The fuzz pulses and snappy beats have a decidedly disco structure that proves independent pop does not have to be relegated to those who feel what has worked on the dance floor for decades must be reformed or reinvented. Pop, no matter the budget and marketing power of its label, can still be easy and pleasurable.
That being said, The Black Ghosts‘ self titled record certainly has moments that resemble various outputs from The Faint, but they have not taken their independence as a requirement to lower the fidelity of their dance tracks. This record will not remind you of anything brought to us via The Rapture. Indeed much more polished influences can be inferred, Prince and Jamiroquai to name a couple. Keating and Lord have entrenched dance pop into a context much more analogous to their new wave predecessors, instead of accentuating the punk roots from which many early 80’s pop acts claim their heritage, and which might have scored them more brownie points with some in the media.
It is worth noting that Blur’s Damon Albarn does guest vocals on Repetition, and that the album is full length, which these days means at least 10 tracks. The record comes out July 8th and is sure to make a good impression on dance floors across New York City. For those who typically enjoy an evening at the discotech, The Black Ghosts are sure to please. If, like me, you traditionally despise such outings, you might still give them a listen, even if only to gauge all the ironic possibilities.
Sigur Rós
með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust
June 24th 2008
X L
Perhaps inspired by the success of their last effort Heima / Hvarf-Heim, Sigur Rós recorded með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust with a heightened sense of pop-thought and melody. Gone seem to be the days of brooding overtures spilling over walls of thick harmonic noise. Med Sud is not offering a correction to some flawed formula; it has not shed what is superfluously unnecessary, rather it is the leg contour as seen through a summer dress happily worn after the glacier’s recession. Icelandic for “with a buzz in our ears we play endlessly,” með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust belies Sigur Rós’ self awareness that rejects the accumulation of star-power, instead favoring the humble roles of music makers with intimate attention to detail and an endless commitment to the art rather than constructed personae that sadly distract many once great contemporaries.
The spiritedly named Gobbledigook begins Med Sud with an overwhelming punch. Tribal drums drive Jónsi Birgisson’s falsetto, while the bass’ melodic structure abandons its typical role as a rhythmic supplement, mimicking instead the vocal notes, which contrast the low register of the bass and Jónsi’s high pitch voice. Complete with hand claps and sampled sequences of spritely lalalalalala’s, Gobbledigook is an intensely elevating track. Sigur Rós chose wisely to open their much anticipated release with such a masterful conceptualization.
Med Sud descends from its initial burst with grace. The record can be largely, even if simplistically, seen to be divided into two sections. The first maintains a pulsating optimism, replete with bright tones and splendor, the second half, beginning with Festival, softens to a spectrum of pastels; still emotionally above board, yet subdued with a calm and reflective contemplation. The album approaches its end as day approaches dusk. Med Sud is a great record, brought about by Sigur Rós’ sense of beauty, their reverence of humility, and their willingness to put their art form first.
Los Campesinos!
Hold on Now, Youngster…
April 1st 2008
Arts & Crafts
If Kids Incorporated were to return to the pop cultural radar screen, they would blip to the tune of this unabashedly juvenile band. Los Campesinos! are a group of 7 Welsh youths that have generated what could turn out to be the future prototype for indie pop, or their fifteen minutes may have passed so fast that their influence came and went before the record ever hit the shelves. Hold on Now, Youngster… is a collection of high energy multi-instrument explosions that have been in the works for the better part of 2 years. It is without a doubt one of the most saccharine records I have ever heard. But to its credit, Hold on Now, Youngster… induces excellent spirits as well as that ever elusive urge to dance. It is contrived and trite, sung poorly, harmonies and violins out of tune with the shallowest appeal to be described as punk rock. It is like seeing a 3 year old with a Mohawk on the hip of a Prada draped mother. That having been said, perhaps their naivety is their most attractive aspect.
If Kids Incorporated fails to return then Los Campensinos! should seriously consider their own show. The assembled appearance and style found everywhere from their scratched out and then rewritten lyrics in the album art, to the deliberate branding of their name in their music videos. Hell I even received a baggy of mini-pins with their logo all over it when I bought the record. Their lyrics are clever enough and the instrumentation is really interesting. But there is a youth factor that has been to good effect exploited by bands such as Tokyo Police Club and Born Ruffians. However Los Campesinos! have formulized the attitude and spiked it with a little overt Go! Team Britishness, truncating the ultimate appeal of their music. Another exclamation point? Despite of all of this nose thumbing, Los Campesinos! succeeded in making an extraordinarily fun and energetic record, which complicates much of the criticism levied.
The opening act will be chosen by After the Jump and Stereofame.com, who have gotten together and devised a contest to allow an unsigned band to play first at this years festival. This slot also includes $2,000 in cash. Voting takes place on Stereofame.com and concludes on the 10th (tomorrow). While there seems to be entirely to many “and the” bands, it looks to be a fun show and it’s to raise money for struggling schools, can’t beat that right? Starts at 12:OOPM. Click on their name for their My Space or Website.
There is a history here, a Montreal history that I don’t understand. The accolades that have pushed Island’s second disc onto the shelves of every major record retailer must be rooted in the friendships the band enjoys within the tightly knit music community of Montreal. With the support of members and former members of Arcade Fire, The Unicorns, and Wolf Parade, Islands recorded and released their debut Return to the Sea. Now they have come at us again hoping that some of that earned cachet and the fostered connections will provide a favorable lens through which to judge their newest effort. I just don’t have it in me to see it their way.
Making a playlist of my favorite Canadian bands would take hours, but I know that Islands probably would not be on the list. There are very few things I like less than an album, which shows all the signs of greatness, is striped of its pretty packaging and exposed as a fraud. I loved the psychedelic loving images from the cover of Arm’s Way, framed by what looks to be a hacked open chest cavity. The pink flesh color reveals a stylized Eden complete with a mushroom cloud and burning car, the outer edges of which, when looked at closely, reveal a wound composed of suggestive yet ambiguous pink parts. But even when you tear away that cellophane wrapping, the disc never looses its status as a packaged product.
Islands’ style is an amalgamation of everything pop. It is hard to deny their song writing abilities. Nicholas Thorburn’s, former vocalist of The Unicorns, brings tons of energy and talent to Islands. The song Abominable Snow, written prior to the formation of Islands, is a great tune with dense textures that allow the sounds of every instrument- guitar, violin, keys- to ebb and flow in volume. Kids Don’t Know Shit is a passionate track that lyrically walks the balance beam between sarcasm and sincere judgment of the supposedly oblivious youth. There are many elements of Arm’s Way that naturally lend it to a favorable review.
The record’s flaws do not come from the writing aspect, although I might suggest that many if not most of the lyrics are uninteresting. No, Islands’ problem comes in the production and conceptualization of Arm’s Way. The maturity that they sought to express ended up painting their project with a veneer of contrivances, caricaturing a style that they and others popularized previously. Songs like The Arm fail to reach the level of epic depth that they overtly are attempting. You do not achieve anything simply by adding a violin run here and there. J’Aime Vous Voire Quitter begins well conceived, but the chorus jolts the listener from good to poor taste before it pulls another punch to the senses when it erupts into La Bamba.
For all it lacks, especially in the first half of the record, Arm’s Way still has enough buoyancy to make a listen worth while. Vertigo closes well. Although it plays lyrically with the often appealed to image of being picked up just to fall down again, the somber vocal melody and full guitar orchestration generate genuine moments of grandeur. But the excellence of this track does much to remind the listener of how little the record offered in its introduction. Islands may be forever but cachet can be exhausted like any other currency.
Decently produced show footage from Eagle Seagull’s performance at Paridiso in Amsterdam on May 21st of this year. I think that, in regards to a release date for their upcoming LP The Year of the How-To Book, it is safe safe to say that “Some time early in 2008″ has been modified to “Sometime in 2008,” but I think most people are fine with that, as long as they get a wink and a wave. This footage below does just that, and fine job as well. I am not even sure why I thought the record was coming sooner than later. I probably just made it up.
Also if you would like to read some of Eagle Seagull’s exploits as they toured with The B-52sclick here. Eli Mardock tells The Reader a harrowing tale of a nipple pinching deviant, a nippy Fred Schneider, and the true meaning of family fun at Disney Land. Enjoy!
