Articles posted under Albums

Vivian Girls repeat history

November 21, 2009
Vivian Girls - Everything Goes Wrong
At 36 minutes, Everything Goes Wrong is over 50% longer than Vivian Girls‘ self-titled debut from last year. Given that this is a standard-length LP, it would be fair to expect the Brooklyn trio to branch out a little and show that there’s more to them than just another fuzz pop band with hummable melodies and scuzzy production.

Everything Goes Wrong, however, makes no attempt to distinguish itself from the pack, and its 13 songs offer almost nothing in the way of variation. For some listeners, this will come as a disappointment, but that’s probably unfair. After all, this is more of the same quality material that earned the band so much recognition in the first place. “Can’t Get Over You” is a dreamy, distorted doo-wop throwback, while lead single “When I’m Gone” buries its sugary harmonies in atmospheric reverb.

mp3: “When I’m Gone”

The most immediately obvious thing that distinguishes the album from its predecessor is its track lengths; unlike the band’s previous bite-sized offerings, Everything Goes Wrong contains two tracks that clock in at over four minutes. Still, none of the tracks drag, so it doesn’t make much of an impact on the album’s overall effect. Rather, the most significant difference here is that the songs sound more like straight-forward punk, with barreling tempos and thundering drums. The lyrics are fittingly venomous, with “Walking Alone at Night” sneering ,”What do I care? / You were just a waste of my time.” Only closing track “Before I Start to Cry” eases back on the full-throttle assault, its slow-burning tempo setting the tone for its heartbroken tale of lost love.

It’s unlikely to win any new fans, but it isn’t trying to. Although it won’t convince any skeptics, Everything Goes Wrong offers more of what made Vivian Girls one of last year’s breakthrough albums.

It’s out now via In the Red.
 
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Your latest shitgaze fix

November 16, 2009
Little Girls - Concepts
Those already disenchanted with the shitgaze genre should probably stop reading now. Little Girls is the solo project of Toronto musician Josh Mcintyre (member of the garage punk duo Pirate/Rock), who recorded the debut album Concepts on his laptop, much of it using the computer’s built-in microphone. The result is muddy, distorted as hell and drenched in reverb. It’s not the kind of project that will appeal to sound engineers and audiophiles, but his gritty no-fi surf rock sets an effectively ominous mood that makes the album addictive listening.

Little Girls’ music isn’t instrumental, but it may as well be. Most of the songs on Concepts contain lyrics, but the vocals are buried low in the mix, and are managled with fuzz and cavernous reverb. On some songs, they’re tough to even distinguish from the guitars, acting like any other instrument in the densely layered tracks. The percussion is almost entirely electronic, with simplistic beats that sound like they were recorded off vintage keyboards.

Numerous tracks recall the murky reverbitude of Psychocandy-eya Jesus and Mary Chain, especially “Thills,” which apes the rhythm from “Just Like Honey.” For the most part, however, the closest sound-alike is Wavves. And while Little Girls don’t have any pop songs quite as memorable as “So Bored,” you can enjoy Concepts without having to reconcile yourself with the public persona of Wavves frontman Nathan Williams.

mp3: “Thrills”

Concepts is out now via Paper Bag.
 
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A pysch folk time capsule

November 14, 2009
Woods - Songs of Shame
According to interviews, Woods have a permanent member whose role is “tape effects.” Upon listening to the Brooklyn group’s most recent album, however, I’m not sure what the hell his job actually is. Songs of Shame doesn’t flaunt its lo-fi aesthetic in the same way as fuzz-soaked releases by Wavves or Times New Viking, but there’s no mistaking the album’s rudimentary recording methods. An eleven-song collection of psychedelic rock and campfire folk, it sounds like it was probably laid to tape in the band members’ bedrooms. And, while there’s likely some subtle sound editing going on that I’m not aware of, there are no flashly tape effects on the whole album.

Considering that the group was once the songwriting project of singer/guitarist Jeremy Earl, it’s not entirely surprising that much of the collection is made up of sparse acoustic strummers. These stark folk songs are made are made all the more eerie by Jeremy Earl’s high, feminine voice, which sounds not-quite-human during the sloppy, waltz-time “Born to Lose.” It’s mainly due to Earl’s bleating vocals that Woods have frequently been pigeonholed as freak folk, joining the ranks of other strange-voiced artists like Devendra Banhart and Joanna Newsom. His singing is also the main reason that the band bears a distinct similarity to Neil Young; this is especially noticeable during the cover of Graham Nash’s protest tune “Military Madness,” which sounds like it arrived in a capsule from 1970.

Elsewhere, Woods resembles a psychedelic jam band; “September with Pete” is nearly ten minutes of stoned noodling that scarcely even changes chords, mostly just acting as a vehicle for a wobbly, wah-wah-soaked guitar solo. It’s such brazen wankery that it’s hard to fault the band for its self-indulgence. While the song might not merit close listening, it’s by no means unpleasant or abrasive, and it befits the album’s sleepy, Sunday morning vibe. It’s a stunningly authentic replica of late ’60s psychedelia, making Songs of Shame a must-hear for anyone still stuck listening to the Velvet Underground or the Byrds on repeat.

Songs of Shame is out now via Woodsist.
 
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The Flaming Lips get messy

November 8, 2009
The Flaming Lips - Embryonic
Call it heresy, but I’ve never been a big fan of the Flaming Lips‘ work over the past ten years. Ever since The Soft Bulletin, the Oklahoma group has watered down its weirdness with glossy synths and dreamy production tricks. It may have sounded petty, but it had the unfortunate effect of making Wayne Coyne’s thin vocals and quirky lyrics sound a bit too whimsical for their own good.

The Flaming Lips’ latest album, the double-disc opus Embryonic, avoids that problem by stripping down the arrangements to their bare essentials. The few instruments that remain ragged and distorted: the drums are shrouded in fuzz and reverb, while the bass sounds like it might explode out of the speakers at any moment. The first minute of “Aquarius Sabotage” is a mangled jazz-metal freakout, a trumpet squealing angrily over a cacophonous rhythm section. But this discord is off-set by unexpected harp flourishes that cut through the murky mix like rays of sunlight. The nursery rhyme-style lyrics of “I Can Be a Frog” would have probably sounded insufferably cute on Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots; here, the song is a chilling minor key ballad, with Karen O providing animal noises that sound like they were recorded on an answering machine.

The band’s transformation on Embryonic runs deeper than production alone. Of the album’s eighteen tracks, not one of them is a full-blown pop song. Rather, most of the collection is reserved for quietly looming grooves like opener “Convinced of the Hex,” which rides a robotic vocal line for four minutes without offering anything that even remotely resembles a chorus. The closest the album comes to a traditionally-structured pop song is on the final track, “Watching the Planets.” It’s distorted and jarring as hell, but the “yes, yes, yes” hook is guaranteed to rattle around your skull long after the record is over. Karen O even makes a return, yelping during the triumphant instrumental passages. It’s a moment of glorious catharsis, perfectly placed at the end of a psychedelic mindfuck of an album.

Embryonic is out now via Warner Bros.
 
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Julian Casablancas indulges his whims

November 7, 2009
Julian Casablancas - Phrazes for the Young
Initially, I had Julian Casablancas pinned as one of those frontmen who probably couldn’t play an instrument and had little involvement in the songwriting process; I imagined the Strokes‘ singer showing up to the studio on the day of the recording session, listening to his bandmates’ completed songs and throwing some bratty vocals on top. He sounded so lazy and disaffected that it was hard to imagine him investing much in the composition. Closer inspection of the liner notes, however, proved me wrong: Casablancas is the sole writer of nearly every song the Strokes have ever released, including all of their hits.

So with that in mind, it’s really not that much of a leap for Casablancas to go solo for his latest album. In fact, it’s a little surprising that it’s taken him this long, especially considering that three of his fellow Strokes have already unveiled side projects.

Phrazes for the Young is being billed as Casablancas’s foray into synth pop, but that description is only accurate insofar as the majority of the instruments on the album are electronic. Stylistically, Phrazes for the Young sounds much older than its ’80s-infused keyboards would suggest: “Ludlow St.” is an old-timey country waltz, while “4 Chords of the Apocalypse” is a bluesy lounge ballad that gives the singer an opportunity to croon about taking his girl dancing and giving her diamonds. The guitar-heavy opener “Out of the Blue” is the most familiar territory for Casablancas, but it sounds closer rootsy bar blues than the Strokes’ usual garage rock mayhem.

Unfortunately, Phrazes of the Young is unfocused and overlong, something that’s especially problematic considering that it’s only eight songs long. Every song has its hooks, but they don’t come fast or often enough; most of the tracks clock in at around five minutes, but they probably shouldn’t be longer than three. The obvious exception to this criticism is the single “11th Dimension,” which piles on mindlessly catchy keyboard riffs and Street Fighter-style breakdowns without wasting a second. “Left & Right in the Dark” is similarly catchy, although the gap between choruses drags on a little.

With some editing, the album could have been the triumphant reinvention Casablancas was doubtless looking for. As it is, “11th Dimension” deserves a place on any “Best of 2009″ playlist, but the rest isn’t likely to hold many people’s attention for long.

Phrazes of the Young is out now via Cult/RCA.
 
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Most things are microwaveable

November 6, 2009
Language-Arts - Where Were You in the Wild?
Language-Arts‘ 2007 debut, the bafflingly-titled “”, was a mixed bag. A stylistic hodgepodge that ranged from folk to hip-hop to jazz, it contained one song that stood clearly out above the rest: “Running at Sunset in a Moonlit Town” was haunting chamber pop, its droning guitars and electric piano flourishes more effective than any amount of kitschy genre-mashing.

The band appears to have followed the blueprint of that song when crafting its second album, and the result is a much more consistent and enjoyable effort. Where Were You In the Wild? is eerie mood-piece, featuring more strings and synthy atmospherics than its predecessor. Frontwoman Kristen Cudmore retreats behind a layer of reverb, placing a greater emphasis on melody in both her singing and guitar playing. This is most apparent on “White Socks in Birkenstocks,” which places hummable guitar leads and a wordless vocal hook over a purring bed of keyboards and cello.

Despite this newfound focus, the band hasn’t completely abandoned its genre-hopping ways. Cudmore raps on the woozy “Grandfather of the Buffalo,” while the title track veers between a steadily chugging chorus and jazzy, syncopated verses. And the lyrics are just as whimsical as they were on the debut; opening track “Cavity” begins with the line “Did you know most things are microwaveable? / Have a fine time on the frontier dunging out the stable.” This time around, however, the quirkiness serves to offset the chilly atmospherics, and rarely comes off as cloying.

mp3: “Where Were You in the Wild?”

“Wild” it definitely isn’t, but Where Were You in the Wild? is a confident step forward for Language-Arts.
 
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Lotus Child’s child

November 2, 2009
The Zolas - Tic Toc Tic
The Zolas are a duo consisting of singer/guitarist Zachary Gray and pianist Tom Dobrzanski. This is the same songwriting team that made up the core of the now-defunct piano pop band Lotus Child, who released an EP and album earlier this decade. Considering that Gray and Dobrzanski chose to disband their former group and reform under a new name, it might be fair to expect them to change their sound; after all, why bother restarting from scratch if not in search of artistic transformation?

It’s therefore a little surprising that the Zolas’ debut album, Tic Toc Tic, isn’t a huge departure from the bouncy piano rock that Lotus Child was once known for. Not to say that Gray and Dobrzanski have stagnated—rather, Tic Toc Tic sounds like a logical follow-up to Lotus Child’s Gossip Diet. “The Great Collapse” is a straight-forward rocker, its upbeat verses giving way to a quiet, fatalistic refrain of “Free what you love ’cause it’s gonna die anyway.” “These Days” is a bittersweet serenade, its swaying groove laying the foundation for a stunning chorus that sounds like it was made for audience clap-alongs.

As well as offering these easily-digestible pleasures, the Zolas have a knack for eclectic song structures, frequently making sudden changes in tone and style. “Cab Driver” starts as a dark, looming pulse before exploding into a manic barroom outro, a honky tonk hoedown that gives Dobrzanski a chance to show off his piano chops. “You’re Too Cool” is a shapeshifting epic, beginning with spiky, angular verses before giving way to a gentle R&B refrain, later followed by a pounding, arena-sized breakdown.

mp3: “You’re Too Cool”

It’s a hell of an achievement for a debut record, but, then again, maybe it shouldn’t really be considered a debut record after all. Whatever the case, Tic Toc Tic is well worth your time (pun!).

The album is out tomorrow via Lotus Child Music Inc./Universal.
 
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Any Murdoch is better than no Murdoch

October 25, 2009
God Help the Girl - Stills
Among a certain, bookish crowd of indie snobs, there is no band in the past twenty years better than Belle & Sebastian (full disclosure: I belong to this crowd). Backed by delicate chamber pop arrangements from an ever-changing cast of supporting musicians, Murdoch specializes in intimate character studies, usually involving religion or lust (or some combination of the two—see his signature tune, “The State I Am In”).

God Help the Girl, released in June of this year, is Murdoch’s first full-length endeavour outside of his usual group. It’s actually a soundtrack to a planned musical film about a reclusive girl named Eve who develops an eating disorder before seeking comfort in an array of supporting characters (each voiced by a different singer). As I discussed a few months ago, it’s an intriguing listen, but lacks the same personality that Murdoch has always achieved so effortlessly with Belle & Sebastian.

Stills is an five-song EP from the same project, and despite the occasional moment of brilliance, it suffers from many of the same problems that hamper the full-length. The shortcomings are mostly in the lyrics; too often, the songs feel like narrative vehicles, with blunt lyrics that sacrifice subtlety and poetry in favour of clarity. The Ireton-fronted “I’m in Love with the City” features a gorgeous scaling melody, but its tale of unrequited romance falls flat with clunky lines like “If he knew how I felt it would spoil any chance I had.”

Where the EP succeeds is in its arrangements, which vary between brazen cabaret pop and Latin-infused folk. The Murdoch-sung “He’s a Loving Kind of Boy” features vigorous acoustic strumming and mariachi trumpet solos, while “Baby’s Just Waiting” is a slinky piano ballad set against a bed of sweeping strings and purring woodwinds. Best of all is the title track, with Asya of Smoosh providing fragile, double-tracked vocals over a gentle arrangement that recalls “Fox in the Snow” (from B&S’s If You’re Feeling Sinister).

Hopefully, God Help the Girl is just a temporary diversion, something to occupy Murdoch until the next Belle & Sebastian album. Still anything from Murdoch is better than nothing, and with so little news coming out of the Belle & Sebastian camp these days, we should probably feel lucky to have a few more songs to help fill the void.

Stills is available now on iTunes.
 
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Franco goes democratic

October 21, 2009
Franco - ...This Is Franco
Franco initially formed under the name Bridge, at which point the Vancouver group was essentially a vehicle for singer-songwriter Mark Bridgeman. Now, with a four-piece lineup firmly established, the band is releasing its first album under its new name, the simply titled …This Is Franco.

Despite Franco’s one-man origins, there’s no mistaking this seven-song collection as anything other than the work of a democratically-operating band. Opening song “Forever” begins as a strummy folk rocker, but after the second chorus moves into an instrumental jam that gives keyboardist Andrew Rasmussen an electric piano solo that last nearly a minute. The rhythm section takes over on “Crowded House,” shifting from a pattering marching beat to an easy-going bounce to a steady rock groove, all within the first seventy seconds.

Of course, Bridgeman is still the group’s primary draw, his emotive vocals and jangly guitar licks providing the hooks that anchor each song. The sweetly nostalgic “A Quiet Love” is the highlight of the collection, its shimmering chord progression giving way to an epic half-time chorus.

It’s also worth noting that Franco is part of the proceeds towards Kids Help Phone. Which is especially notable considering that, now that the group is a four-piece, any profits are already being split four ways.

…This Is Franco is available now at Indie Pool.
 
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Bradford Cox keeps things simple (well, kind of)

October 20, 2009
Atlas Sound - Logos
Prior to the release of Logos, Bradford Cox promised that his second album under the Atlas Sound moniker would be more stripped down than last year’s Let the Blind Lead Those Who Can See but Cannot Feel. He even compared the new collection to a live album, saying that many of the songs were first takes. Of course, when it comes to an artist like Cox, such descriptions are all relative.

Yes, Logos is more stripped down than its predecessor, but it’s hardly your typical live-off-the-floor singer-songwriter project. The majority of the songs are based on acoustic guitar, but these basic parts are doubled, harmonized, and overlayed with percussion and squelching synths. On opener “The Light That Failed,” layers of guitar pluck a simple riff while swirls of ambience set the mood for Cox’s soft vocals, which fall somewhere in between a whisper and a croak. “Shelia” follows a similar blueprint, although it’s much more catchy and upbeat, the slow-burning middle section giving way to an unabashedly romantic coda of “We’ll die alone together.”

As good as these songs are, the two best tracks on Logos are the ones that sound nothing like anything else on the album. Panda Bear makes an appearance on “Walkabout,” which borrows a sample from ’60s pop band the Dovers and ends up sounding a heck of a lot like something that could have been on Person Pitch. Meanwhile, Stereolab’s Laetitia Sandler contributes vocals to “Quick Canal,” an eerie, nine-minute electro vamp that’s nothing short of revelatory.

The album ends in abrupt, unsatisfying fashion with “Logos,” a pleasantly chugging groove that suddenly fades out in the middle of a verse. It a strange rebuff to end an otherwise warm, comforting album, yet somehow it works perfectly, making you want to press repeat in search of a more gratifying catharsis. With Logos, Bradford Cox has brought his solo material on par with his work with Deerhunter. And with a prolific musician like Cox, more is bound to be just around the corner.
 
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