The dog days of summer didn’t bring us any new 10.0s, but here’s a handful of worthwhile recent releases as a bated-breath autumn (Wilco! St. Vincent! Real Estate! ARMS! Ryan Adams!) comes ever closer.
Cymbals Eat Guitars – Lenses Alien: The best of the month, Lenses Alien is that increasingly rare bird — a guitar-centric indie-rock album. That’d be enough in these synth-addled times, but the band manages to push themselves and the genre (!) forward with songs that sprawl and shrink to fit with equal parts melody and ferocity. Strong song-for-song but stunning in total.
Pepper Rabbit – Red Velvet Snowball: The band’s sophomore follow-up to Beauregard (itself a collection of EPs) is an improvement on its debut, grounding psych-pop atmospherics with bolder melodies. The choruses will stick in your head, but so, too, will the 1999 Dave Fridmann production influence that pokes cleverly through the tinfoil songwriting. [TRACK REVIEW] >> “Rose Mary Stretch”:mp3
Widowspeak – Widowspeak: Anything on Captured Tracks gets my full attention this year, though the Cat Power gloom of Widowspeak’s debut marks a shift from the label’s usual New Wave revivalism. Effective, if predictable, stuff that’s at its best when it rocks hardest (the four-on-the-floor “Puritan,” the almost-garage-girl-group of “Hard Times”) or throws itself upon Quentin Tarantino’s feet (the Western fantasia of “Gun Shy”). [REVIEW]
Records I didn’t quite get to and still want to: Mr. Heavenly’s debut (their SXSW show was terrific); Thundercat’s The Golden Age of Apocalypse and Hotel Light’s Girl Graffiti. I gave up on Watch the Throne after one spin but it’s probably due for another.
Classics on heavy rotation: New Order – Low-Life; Rose Elinor Dougall – Without Why; Dean Drouillard – Dream at Harmony Motel; The Long Winters - Putting the Days To Bed; Standard Fare – The Noyelle Beat
I reviewed Fool’s Gold’s sophomore effort for eMusic. A taste:
The music’s the star on this album, driven by the lead guitar licks that dot the songs like Perseid meteors, and a blend of busy percussion and occasional horn punctuation. The group is at its frantic best on breathless efforts such as “Wild Window” and the synth-aided “Street Clothes,” while the bouncing “Bark and Bite” could soundtrack a summer block party anywhere from Olvera Street to Williamsburg.
Leave No Trace is out now on IAMSOUND; “Street Clothes” is a pretty serious summer jam.
I saw Cat Power for the third time in Vegas, at the Matador at 21 festival. (The first and second: an unmemorable pre-sobriety outing at Arthurfest in 2005 and a successful post-sobriety set at Coachella 2010.) It was oddly appropriate: in talent if not in body, Chan Marshall had become fat Elvis, singing other people’s songs through a one-size-fits-all Memphis soul filter without a hint of the angst or urgency that characterized even ’06 comeback The Greatest. She might as well have walked into the Mirage buffet and come back with four bowls of oatmeal. (For the record: outside of this analogy, I fucking love oatmeal.)
Widowspeak has more omnivorous interests. The Chicago three-piece, fronted by Molly Hamilton, has rightfully drawn comparisons to Cat Power: its singer offers the same woozy, boozy hushed drawl, perking up only for the occasional chorus. You Are Free tracks such as “Speak for Me” and “He War” are good reference points, but Widowspeak — at its best, which is its most energetic — takes Marshall’s recent Southern affections and moves them west. “Gun Shy,” the debut album’s best tune, offers flamenco strumming and the kind of electric lead that probably soundtracks Quentin Tarantino’s more interesting dreams. Along with “In the Pines,” it’s the cowboy noir Neko Case does so well, though her iron-lunged approach would make Hamilton turn blue. “Half Awake,” for lack of a better term, is plain old indie-rock, fuzzy and upbeat, as is the pounding chorus of “Nightcrawlers”; the brisk but tender “Hard Times” finds a twee track putting its boots on.
It never ranges too far afield, but at times, Widowspeak feels like it could use more direction — is it a garage-pop record? red-eyed alt-country? gloom-rock? — but it’s a minor problem for a generally tuneful album that offers both a reminder of the possibilities of breathy chanteuses and Cat Power’s own lost opportunities. If she does Covers Record 3: Songs To Drink Frappucinos To, “Gun Shy” would make a good start. (Speaking of covers: Widowspeak do a fine “Wicked Game,” though it’s impossible to top Chris Isaak’s original).
A year and a half ago, I watched this band play to an audience of dozens at SXSW; last winter, to a few hundred at the Troubadour. Here they are having the time of their lives playing to thousands at the U.K.’s Reading Festival, obliterating the best song of 2010. Remember when a band you love making it was reason to cheer? This is that. (Via Greg)
Seapony / Photo by David Greenwald’s phone (sorry)
Perhaps the greatest irony of the modern music industry is the reversal of the performing-recording continuum. The Beatles labored in Hamburg clubs long before they could afford to give up baseball stadiums for studio sessions; when Steely Dan declined to tour at all, it came at the height of ’70s record company excess. 40 years later, bands have little choice but to play their first shows after crafting entire discographies in their bedrooms, rebuilding their sound for the live arena instead of struggling to translate its intensity to tape. It’s created what often seems like a greater divide between recording and performance, long two different animals that deserve to be judged as such. (Readers of pop criticism who too rarely recognize that a critique of a band’s show does not necessarily extend to a judgement of their records — much less their work ethic, generosity of spirit or how badly really they deserve this! — are at least partially to blame here.)
That schism was on display at the Echoplex on Sunday night, as a trio of bands attempted to bring their Internet anthems to life. Read the rest of this entry »
* Ben Folds Five’s “House,” the band’s first release in a decade. They have two more coming on Fold’s upcoming greatest hits plus a reunion album (!) in the works. It’s a good song — a little overblown and melodramatically arranged, but it mostly sounds like Ben Folds Five. Which is about as good as a band can sound. Hear it at NBC.com.
* Ryan Adams’ “Lucky Now”: the first track single from Ashes & Fire, is as somber and simple as promised. The new record will probably include 0 references to werewolves, for better or worse.
* Atlas Sound, Bradford Cox’s better-than-Deerhunter side-project (yes!), has a new record — Parallax, no relation to Green Lantern, let’s hope — due Nov. 8. Here’s the first single.
It’s sort of irritating to see this video premiere at the Huffington Post — what, NPR was busy? — but given that it’s St. Vincent, it’s essential viewing. The song itself is some abstract “Blue Monday” shit, continuing in the murky vein of Actor with the addition of a piercing chorus. I’ll let the dark, clever video speak for itself; I hope the shoot didn’t ruin Annie’s shoes, though.
I saw Cat Power for the third time in Vegas, at the Matador at 21 festival. (The first and second: an unmemorable pre-sobriety outing at Arthurfest in 2005 and a successful post-sobriety set at Coachella 2010.) It was oddly appropriate: in talent if not in body, Chan Marshall had become fat Elvis, singing other people’s songs through a one-size-fits-all Memphis soul filter without a hint of the angst or urgency that characterized even ’06 comeback The Greatest. She might as well have walked into the Mirage buffet and come back with four bowls of oatmeal. (For the record: outside of this analogy, I fucking love oatmeal.)
