Archive | September, 2011

Day 194: Echo & the Bunnymen – Ocean Rain

10 Sep

The Yo-Yo Man

Sometimes it’s a shame that records are only about 40 minutes long.  The Hold Steady’s Boys and Girls in America could go on for an additional hour, and I wouldn’t complain.  Treats by Sleigh Bells could play on a never-ending Infinite Jest-style loop, and I’d be a happy camper.  There are some records where 40 minutes is 40 too many, though.

Well, more like 37 minutes and 23 seconds, to be exact.

Congratulations Echo & the Bunnymen, you and your record Ocean Rain embody absolutely everything that I cannot stand about music.  Now that takes something special.

As far as I’m concerned, this album set the standard for the wave of pretentiousness in music that followed its release.  TV on the Radio, Grizzly Bear, and Radiohead combined don’t hold a candle to these guys.  Front man Ian McCulloch masquerades behind faux-intelligence, heavy vocal echos, and a general sense of terrible-human-being-ness.  Just look at this picture.  You’ve “decided to wear your thorn of crowns,” have you?  Well thanks a lot McCulloch, I’m really glad that you are here to die for our sins.  A lack of indoor-sunglass-wearing  is the problem that I’ve always had with other messiahs.

I probably wouldn’t even notice the pretentiousness if it weren’t for the sheer boringness that finds a home in every nook and cranny of this record.  It’s not just the lyrics—the music’s “minimalist” approach just comes off as lazy.  If you’re going to have terrible lyrics, at least try to hide them behind something.

Bad records don’t make me angry—we all need something to laugh at sometimes.  Bad records that are lauded with praise, on the other hand, irk me like nothing else.  Seriously, what is it exactly that people saw in this band?  Please, someone enlighten me.

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Day 193: Honest Bob and the Factory-to-Dealer Incentives

9 Sep

I Get By

I pulled out Rock Band last night.  I’ve been listening to Boston’s Foreplay/Long Time a lot over the past few days, and I suddenly had the urge to play along on some plastic video-game-controller-drums. One part premature nostalgia, and another part procrastination inspired me to dig up my old Rock Band disc, turn on my PS3, and proceed to hit 96% and get a 232-note streak on the expert difficulty level.  Not a personal best or anything, but what can you expect from someone who hasn’t played in a couple of years?

I was scrolling through the song list, and heard a clip from my what was my favorite track on the game way back when…no, it wasn’t Bowie’s Suffragette City or The Stone’s Gimme Shelter.  In a hilarious bit of foreshadowing, my most-played track was a post-game unlockable song by an indie rock band that I had never heard of.  Honest Bob and the Factory-to-Dealer Incentives’ I Get By remains a favorite of mine to this day, but it’s taken me until now to listen to a full record by this band.

And that’s a shame, because Second and Eighteen is a great record.

With eighteen quirky tracks about being rear-ended, the Time Cube, Star Wars, boy geniuses, pollution, and everything in between, Honest Bob have the potential to be today’s They Might Be Giants.  Two things need to happen first, though:

  • TMBG need to retire.  ASAP.
  • Honest Bob needs to acquire a fan base of some sort.

Why this band remains virtually unknown is a mystery to me.  This isn’t particularly inaccessible music, and it’s got a unique enough sound to cultivate an extremely dedicated and obsessive group of fans.

Their last record came out in 2008, so maybe getting some new music out there would help.  They’re still playing shows, so we know they’re not dead.  Maybe the fourth album will be the charm for these guys.

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Day 192: Grouplove – Never Trust a Happy Song

8 Sep

Colours

Lots of my music listening revolves around the Chicago concert scene—let’s just say that there’s definitely a correlation between the albums that I pick and ohmyrockness.com.  In fact, this album right here has a lot to do with Chicago concerts, both past and future.

I saw Grouplove from afar on the final day of Lollapalooza, and they blew me away.  I hadn’t heard a single song of theirs before, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying every minute of their very enthusiastic set.  I made a mental note to check out some of their tunage after the fest, but things got lost in the shuffle.  Even when I’m listening to a record every day, I still can’t manage to get around to the stuff that I really want to hear.

Anyway, it somehow came to my attention that these guys have a show at Subterranean—a venue that I really want to check out—next week.  It didn’t take long for me to get my hands on their music after I saw that listing.

It turns out that I’ve wasted a month of my life by not listening to this music.  Perhaps I’m being a tad hyperbolic, but I really am impressed.  This is indie pop at its catchiest, least pretentious, and, as far as I’m concerned, finest.  Think Edward Sharpe with a little more ADD thrown in, and you’ll kind of get the idea of the Grouplove sound.

Christian Zucconi’s whiny vocals are often in contrast to the rest of the band’s happy-go-lucky sound, but that’s what makes this record work.  It doesn’t sound like every other indie pop album in existence, but remains infectious as hell.  Also, if you don’t like Colours, there’s something wrong with you.

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Day 191: Dinosaur Feathers – Fantasy Memorial

7 Sep

Family Waves

Weird band name, unique, nonabrasive sound, relative obscurity, yeah, I’d say that Dinosaur Feathers is a group that I should get behind.  I’ve been having a lot of trouble with this post, as this band has a sound that’s really hard to describe.  Fantasy Memorial isn’t perfect by any means; there’s plenty that could have been eliminated or improved upon.  I like the record for the most part, though.

Think acoustic Animal Collective.  Now you may see why I’m having a hard time here.  This record is a mishmash of all kinds of stuff—vocal harmonies, head-scratching beats, ambiguous lyrics, and the completely unidentifiable sources that make up most of the midrange.  There’s a lot going on here, but it rarely feels busy or forced.  Instead, Fantasy often comes off as catchy.  Family Waves, the highlight of this record, is a fast paced, infectious track that ends before you can figure out exactly what’s going on.  This band is at its best when making music like that.

Unfortunately, Dinosaur Feathers doesn’t always make music like that.  When the band slows things down, it can be frustrating and almost painful to listen to.  Take Holy Moses, for instance.  It’s a drawn out, boring, and repetitive track that has no place on the record.  If a little fat trimming had been done before this was released, Fantasy Memorial could have been a lot better.  That’s often the problem with self-released work, though—sometimes, producers can be useful.

Dinosaur Feathers have a lot of potential.  If they tighten things up on their next release, it’s definitely a band to look out for.

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Day 190: Boston – Boston

6 Sep

Foreplay/Long Time

Dad, what have you done?  It’s DRT yet again, and Boston’s self-titled debut has me in a serious conundrum.

I want to hate this record, I really do.  This is 70s glam rock at its corniest.  With cheesy lyrics, over-the-top guitar riffs, and a ridiculous cover, there should be nothing redeeming about this album.  I’d like to think that if something like this came out today, I’d stop listening after track two.  I know that’s not the case, though; I love me some Foxy Shazam.  I’m quite the walking contradiction, but that’s for another day.  Right now, I’ve got to deal with Boston’s Boston.  

When it comes down to it, disliking a record is hard to do when you already know half of its songs.  I have a guitar hero story very similar to the one about Guns and Roses’ Sweet Child o’ Mine about Foreplay/Longtime…actually the story is exactly the same, so I won’t bore you with it.  My point is that I can’t suddenly turn on a record that has so many components that I’ve embraced throughout my life.

More importantly, it’d be extremely hypocritical of me to hate on such a blatantly fun rock album.  I have said before that it’s okay to like music for no other reason than its catchiness, and Boston is beyond catchy.  If that riff from Smokin’ isn’t stuck in your head for days after you hear it, then you have no soul.

Yes, this is cheese rock.  Yes, I probably lose all sorts of hipster cred for embracing it.  Long story short, I don’t care.  It sounds good, and life is too short to listen to records that you have to pretend to understand.

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Day 189: WU LYF – Go Tell Fire to the Mountain

5 Sep

We Bros

Usually, I’m one to look past terrible vocals.  Under most circumstances, the great spacy guitar riffs and synths of Wu Lyf’s Go Tell Fire to the Mountain alone would be enough to get me interested in this record.  This time, I’m just not sure if I can do it.

If you’ve heard this much-hyped band’s front man before, then you know what I’m talking about.  Singer and organ player Ellery James Roberts has a voice that makes Tom Waits sound smooth and dreamy.

Hold up…Tom Waits…we’ve been in this situation before.  The last time I dissed an album because of its vocals was Waits’ Small Change.  I guess I’m a little shallower than I thought.  We’ve seen, on two different occasions now, vocal quality affect my opinion of a record.  At this point, I believe it’s necessary to point out that Los Campesinos!, the band with some of the worst vocals on earth, is my favorite band.

The problem with these vocals is that they’re so unnerving.  Many times on Go Tell Fire a somewhat relaxing echoy guitar will start up, give you a sense of serenity and security, only to be interrupted by Roberts and his all-of-my-meals-consist-of-rocks voice.

Honestly, and I’m a little disappointed with myself, I can’t say that I enjoyed this record.  Unfortunately, there are just some cases where I can’t move past the vocals. It’s a shame too, because the non-vox aspects of this record are actually really good.  Oh well, there’s so much music in this world, it’s not worth the time to force yourself to like something.

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Day 188: EMA – Past Life Martyred Saints

4 Sep

California

I love listening to a record that I know nothing about.  Doing this makes sure that my opinion is unaffected by what’s already been said about the record.  Yeah, I like to think that I’m above being manipulated by critics, but it really is unavoidable sometimes.  That hasn’t happened in this case, though.

Earlier today, on one of my music forums, someone posted this album’s cover and name.  Looking for something to listen to, I jumped without even glancing at the record’s description, or even the artist’s name.  So now I know, for sure, that my love of EMA and her really weird fuzz-pop is all-natural.

Honestly, I don’t think any amount of critical hate on this record could have kept me from enjoying it.  When I write about how I want something out of the ordinary in my music, I’m talking about stuff like this.

First of all, EMA can really sing.  She’s got a beautiful voice, and isn’t afraid to show it off through layers and layers and layers.  It’s what is going on all around her voice that makes this record so interesting, though.  Other than the occasional decipherable guitar strum or piano chord, it’s really hard to tell exactly what EMA is using to make her music.  All I know is that  it involves a lot of feedback and danceable beats.

I’ve done a little research now, and it appears that this record has received a lot of recognition, all of which is completely warranted.  It’s inventive, but perhaps more importantly, catchy.

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FIRST HALF BOTTOM 5

4 Sep

Now this was a challenge.  If you’re a regular reader of the blog, you know why.  When I pan a record, I pan a record.  Picking just 5 from the countless number of negative reviews that I’ve dished out in the first half was hard enough—I then made myself listen to select songs from these albums again, just to get my blood at its optimal boiling temperature.  I’m bored; I’m angry.  Let’s do this.

5. The Drums – The Drums

I pointed out in my original review of this record that The Drums aren’t necessarily bad, but rather extremely trite and boring.  I’d like to retract that statement.  Yes, this band is still egregiously uninteresting, but I just listened to Down by the Water again.  It’s awful!  They just try to please too many people with their music, and what we end up with is a record that sounds like it was made by an evil indie rock cabal.  “Poor, deformed The Drums” indeed.

4. John Hiatt – Riding With the King

If you click on the record cover to the right, you can see it in it’s full, 300×300 pixel glory. Just look at that.  I don’t even have to write anything else here.  But I will.  John Hiatt, maybe if you decided what you wanted to be, we’d have some good music on our hands.  Yeah, the odds are slim, but that would at least make for a better record than Riding With The King.  Instead of butchering just one genre of music, Hiatt assaults 20 or so with his obnoxious voice and aura of mediocrity.

3. They Might Be Giants – Join Us

Speaking of bad album artwork…you know what, TMBG, I don’t think I will be joining you any time soon.  I imagine that if I hopped in your pink monster truck, your terrible, try-hard music would send us careening off of a cliff and into a bottomless pit.  The world would be a better place without you, though, and that’s actually a sacrifice that I would seriously consider making.  This record is really only so disappointing because of what this band was once capable of.  Now, like a dad on a longboard, they’ve lost everything that once made them cool, are trying desperately to get it back, and only failing spectacularly. The best part is, TMBG will release another one of these within two years, just because they can. 

2. Hoodie Allen – Pep Rally

You know what, I’m not going to type too much here.  If you’re new here, or have just forgotten, go ahead and click that link up yonder.  My thoughts on Hoodie and his music remain unchanged, and I think I sum it up as well as I possibly can in that post.  Hoodie, we’ve got out differences music-wise, and I still can’t stand the crowd that listens to your stuff.  I’ma leave it at that.

1. King Crimson – In the Court of the Crimson King

Wow.  I just read through my post about this album for the first time since uploading.  That right there is some anger.  Can you blame me, though?  I think that’s a reasonable reaction to sitting through 43 minutes of flute solos, uninventive, repetitive lyrics, and an overall cloud of pretentiousness.  The most annoying thing is that everyone on earth seems to love this record.  See, this is where some commenters’ arguments about me fall flat.  If I don’t like an album, no matter how great, influential, or inventive it’s supposed to be, you’re going to hear about it.  Hey, King Crimson, I didn’t catch you the first few times.  Did you talk to the wind?  If so, did it hear you?

FIRST HALF TOP 5

3 Sep

Wow, posts look really weird without a 300×300 pixel album cover leading off.

Well, we’re halfway there. I’ll be honest, I didn’t know if I was going to make it past the first week when I began this project, and here we are, 186 albums later.  I need to commemorate reaching the halfway point in some way—I would have had this out earlier in the week, but school just started and I’ve been a little busy.  So, without further ado, here are the Top 5 records of Swole’s first half—look out for the Bottom 5 tomorrow.

5. tUnE-yArDs – w h o k i l l

I really thought that I’d never have to type out this ridiculously stylized band name again.  Oh well, Merrill Garbus’ ridiculously catchy glitch-indie makes it all worth it.  Honestly, this spot is more symbolic of the tUnE-yArDs project as a whole—both w h o k i l l and BiRd-BrAiNs are fantastic albums.  w h o k i l l earns the spot because of  Gangsta, though.  The record’s second single gets a listen from me almost daily, and it hasn’t lost any of its zest or infectiousness yet.  When I burn a copy of a CD for my car after only hearing its first half, you know it’s good.

4. Girl Talk – All Day

No, an album does not have to be great driving music in order to make this list, despite what records 4 and 5 may want you to believe.  All Day really is one of the most replayable records of all time.  From the intense/hilarious opening pairing of War Pigs and Ludacris’ Move Bitch, to the fitting and beautiful close with Imagine by Lennon, All Day never seems to lose its charm. This record shows why Girl Talk is, and will always be, the king of the mash-up.

3. Andrew Jackson Jihad – People Who Can Eat People are the Luckiest People in the World

This record works surprisingly well as driving music too, believe it or not.  You’ve got to be in the right mood, though.  I’ve found that the unexplainable hybrid of stress and fury only felt when stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic for extended periods suits People best.  AJJ’s talent of blending depressing, dark, but somehow optimistic lyrics still amazes me.  I’m very thankful that I don’t view the world the way lyricist Sean Bonnette does, but I’m also thankful that he’s decided to write about the way he sees things.

Yeah, I guess I am that shallow—this right here is the definition of driving music.  Foxy’s often-hilarious lyrics and insanely catchy neo-Queen riffs have been stuck in my head since I first pressed play on this record.  It’s one of those albums that I could listen to on repeat for days on end.  Currently, it resides at the top of my Desert Island Music list.

 

1. The Pains of Being Pure at Heart – Belong

There are a few factors that led to Pains earning the top spot here:

  1. The sick white vinyl edition of this album that I got for preordering.
  2. The conversation that I had with Kip—the lead singer—before a show of theirs in April—I make awkwardness an art.
  3. The fact that this album really is amazing.

I still haven’t gotten over the one-two-three punch that Belong opens with—three amazing new-wavey synth-pop songs on a level that Pains’ imitators can only dream of one day reaching.  Heart in your Heartbreak is one of the catchiest songs in existence, with some of the most depressing lyrics that I’ve ever heard.  How this band doesn’t get radio play is beyond me.

Most importantly, Belong works as a whole—perhaps more so than any record that I’ve listened to so far.  Every track flows beautifully into the next, and the slower songs both serve to accentuate the record’s earth-shattering highs, and stand alone as amazing as well.  If I hear a record better than this before the end of Swole Ear, I’ll be very surprised.  Plus, it’s great to drive to.

Day 187: Tokyo Police Club – Elephant Shell

3 Sep

In A Cave

When it comes to putting songs in an aesthetically pleasing order, I’m your man.  That’s why I recently jumped at the opportunity to provide music for a road trip that I wasn’t even going on.  They probably just wanted me to lend them a few records and burnt CDs, but—as you may already know—when I do something, I do it big.  This trait currently has me in the midst of a project that has me listening to a record every day for an entire year.  It’s called Swole Ear.  Maybe you’ve heard of it.

Anyway, I went big and did them one better—I created a 50-song, 3-hour, glorious, beautiful, immaculate masterpiece of a mixtape.  This thing is epic, and that’s not a term that I throw around lightly.  From Arcade Fire to Yeasayer, this monster covers everything under the hipster garbage sun.  After the road trip, my listeners were truly grateful that I bestowed my work upon them, but they did have a few questions and comments for me.  One of the least interesting of these inquiries pertained to a band called Tokyo Police Club.  “Who are they?”  I was asked.  “They sound just like The Clash.”

Wut.

That statement has followed me for weeks now, as I’ve tried and tried to figure out how anyone can hear The Clash in Tokyo Police Club.  I’ve got nothing.

I figured I’d give Elephant Shell—the band’s other LP—a listen, just to see if maybe I could hear some Clash in ‘em.

I mean, you could say that every rock band shares something with The Clash.  Tokyo Police Club employs guitar, bass, drums and vocals in their music, and their songs follow a verse-chorus-verse structure for the most part.  Sure, the two groups have their similarities, but comparisons like this lie on a slippery slope.  Soon enough, we’ll be mentioning Jack White and Insane Clown Posse in the same sentence.

What I did find after listening to this record was just an affirmation of what I already knew—Tokyo Police Club is an awesome band.  Yeah, they’re indie, but they’ve got a sound original and warm enough to make them worth listening to.  This record is highly recommended for fans of rock music, but maybe I should suggest it to everyone who wears pants—the members of Tokyo Police Club wear pants when they’re performing.

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