Music

These Open Roads

beth — Mon, 25 Apr 2011 03:49:38 +0000

When I received Haroula Rose’s album These Open Roads in the mail, I couldn’t help but judge it immediately based on the cover. It’s yellow with 70s fonts and on the back, you’ll see Rose dressed in a hippie-styled shirt, standing amongst a field of tall grass. My immediate assumption was a pretty girl who probably has a pretty voice and nothing beyond that. I had hoped to be wrong after listening to the album. Unfortunately, I was far from it.

These Open Roads, while a very conventional indie-folk album, isn’t without meaning. The album implies notions of self-identity, of finding oneself, and the emotional difficulties one faces when attempting to do so. I found this to be the case with songs such as “Brand New Start,” “New Year’s Day,” and “Love Will Follow.” Other songs like “Another Breakup Ballad” and “Lavender Brown” feature heartbreak and radiate feelings of isolation. Rose wrote all eleven songs in the album (the twelfth track is more of a soft ode without any lyrics) and based on the consistency of her lyrics, I’m guessing she put a lot of effort into inserting common themes throughout the record.

Rose’s songs have a delicate, personal feel to them and the instrumentals are soothing. But while listening to the album, I always felt there was something missing. Something extra that makes her album stand out—perhaps something more intimate or unique in the lyrics.

Rose, a Los Angeles-based singer/songwriter, certainly has a voice that fits in with the league of modern indie singers. Her voice is reminiscent of a softer, less mature version of KT Tunstall or Judy Collins. It’s a sweet voice that’s not hard on the ears, but it’s nothing that can set her apart from the crowd of other female folkies with guitars that we see singing in small cafes around the city.

Written by: Farhana Uddin, April 24th 2011

Betrayer

annette — Thu, 21 Apr 2011 08:00:00 +0000

By The On Fires

What things come from Australia? Lots of bitey poisonous things. The fabulous and flamboyant movie The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. AC/DC. Australian Toaster Biscuits (do you remember Australian Toaster Biscuits? I do. They were amazing.) The On Fires also come from Australia. Are The On Fires as amazing as Australian Toaster Biscuits? Do they wear shorts all of the time like Angus Young? Can they do a mean Gloria Gaynor impression, while sporting a dress made out of flip-flop sandals? Perhaps most importantly, can they wrestle lots of bitey poisonous things like Steve Irwin? These are all questions I would like to have answered.

First things first: are they as amazing as Australian Toaster Biscuits (A.T.B. for short)? The amazing thing about A.T.B. is that they are sweeter and more substantive than regular English muffins. So the real question here is, are The On Fires sweeter and more substantive than English muffins? The closest English band to an English muffin would have to be the Spice Girls, for their rather dense exterior and the air-filled emptiness at the center. I would have to say I prefer The On Fires to the Spice Girls. The On Fires have a certain level of sweetness; on tracks like “Without”, that are both emotion-filled and packed with energy. Similar to A.T.B., The On Fires also have a certain level of substance that is lacking in their English muffin counterparts. They obviously are influenced by bands like The Mars Volta and Social Distortion, while the musical influences of the Spice Girls are clearly more along the lines of The Archies, if The Archies wore sexy pants.

Question number two: Do they wear shorts all of the time like Angus Young? The answer appears to be no. I see a sherpa hat on their guitar player in the liner notes, but no shorts. Which brings us to the question can they do a mean Gloria Gaynor impression, while sporting a dress made out of flip-flop sandals? As I have yet to see them in concert, I cannot say whether they are capable of such a feat. However, according to their website, their previous band name was “Asleep in the Park” until a fan shouted “you’re not asleep, you’re on fire!” so I can only imagine that they have quite a lot of enthusiasm on stage. In addition, their song “Melancholy” is obviously influenced by Queen, which clearly indicates they are at least friends of the family, if you know what I mean.

Finally, the most important question of all: can they wrestle lots of bitey poisonous things like Steve Irwin? Again, it doesn’t appear they wear shorts all of the time, so I cannot be sure they can match the awesomeness of His Royal Majesty of Crocodile Hunting (R.I.P.), Steve Irwin. They do have plenty of punk-rock swagger on tracks like “Coming Home,” which I suppose would be needed when faced with certain death at the fangs of something bitey and poisonous. However, they do a riff on the Ventures’ tune “Wipeout” during the song, which is probably not something you want to hear when faced with wrangling a death adder or a blue-ringed octopus. So, I suppose, the jury is out on the answer to this question.

I hope I have sufficiently answered these questions regarding The On Fires and various elements of Australia. In closing, I would have to say that they are far more enjoyable than Silverchair, and not nearly as enjoyable as AC/DC, although they do have a fair amount of rock and roll attitude. Just one more question, though: Why do people from hot climates wear sherpa hats?

Written by: Emily S. Dunster, April 21st 2011

Come Over

annette — Wed, 20 Apr 2011 08:00:00 +0000

By Patty Carpenter and Dysfunctional Family Jazz Band

Epiphany Records

Patty Carpenter and the Dysfunctional Family Jazz Band (PCATDFJB) are a troupe of musicians who are also family members. Singer Patty was married to saxophonist Scotty, and they had daughter (who is also the band’s other singer) Melissa. Patty and Scotty broke up, and Patty married the band’s manager, Charles, and together they had son Travis who plays bass. This album is essentially like being trapped on a couch in the living room of your new neighbors watching an endless slide-show of their family’s summer vacation.

Little did you know how creepy your new neighbors were. “My Baby” stomps in with snarling saxophone and electric guitar. The song’s lyrics are about a rebellious child growing up, “My baby’s going away. And I hope it will be okay/Such a young girl hurrying out the door.” Okay, fine so far. But then the song gets a little bit too, er, tactile? “I can hold her when she needs my touch... Someday I know that she’ll go away/But I will stay close to her heart.” Now I’m confused. I thought this was a song about mother/daughter relationships? Is this the kissing family from Saturday Night Live?

PCATDFJB waffle between Sonny Clark-esque jazz, zydeco, and reggae. “Love Bound” is a song about daughter Melissa and husband Alan getting married in Jamaica. I know this because it says so, under the lyrics to the song in the liner notes: “we cooked up this song to celebrate the first anniversary of Melissa and Alan. Their wedding in Jamaica required a reggae saga. You had to be there. Now you are.” It really is great that this family willingly shows so much affection for each other. Frankly, though, I don’t really want to be invited to their wedding. I just don’t know them well enough to be interested. I suppose you could argue that there are plenty of great songs out there written about people and events that most listeners have no personal connection to. Paul Simon wrote about wife Peggy Harper in songs like “Run That Body Down,” and it works. But then, Mr. Simon didn’t write in the liner notes to his album, “My wife and I were going through a very difficult time, which would eventually end in a bitter divorce. You had to be there. Now you are!” Speaking of Paul Simon, he also made reggae work for a white dude. Unfortunately, PCATDFJB are more reminiscent of Willie Nelson’s attempt at reggae, which (needles to say) was both bumbling and strange.

On the track “Summer Love,” PCATDFJB get creepy again, for along come the sultry sounds of what can only be a mom singing about making whoopie in a corn field: “The corn’s silky tassels are luring me in [...] come on, baby, roll me in the grass.” Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. The teenager in me just threw up a little in my mouth. This is a family band! What are you doing, hippie parents? This song feels a bit like Maeby Fünke and Michael Bluth singing “Afternoon Delight” together. That moment on Arrested Development was funny because it was unintentionally creepy. This is just creepy.

It’s great that these folks enjoy making music together and seem to love each other so much. I just think you may need to be a part of their family in order to really get it.

Written by: Emily S. Dunster, April 20th 2011

In Good Time

tina — Sun, 10 Apr 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Annie Fitzgerald

Pin Curl Productions

When I first popped it in, my iTunes player categorized Annie Fitzgerald’s album In Good Time as country. As I began listening, I found this to be wholly misleading. As a matter of fact, I was unable to categorize her music as any one genre. A little bit folk, a little bit pop, this thoughtfully produced album is a gem. Fitzgerald has managed to create new music with a message that is thoroughly original by today’s musical standards. The lyrics, all written by Fitzgerald in collaboration with her colleagues, are unpolluted with the synthetic and wholly superficial mess heard in most songs today. It was a joy to hear someone deviate from the norm.

In “Watching the World Go By,” the static accompaniment creates a tight but quickly oscillating pattern that results in an airy sound. The counter phrase in the piano and her sweet melodic line create a calm, sunny piece that evokes sitting on a grassy country hill near train tracks. Here, her theme is one of a yearning for wholeness, a theme that is also reflected in the song “How Long.” True, “How Long” is a bit too poppy for my tastes, but her hopeful lyrics are a breath of fresh air.

A second, very important theme in this album is one of family. Perhaps the most beautiful example of this is the track “Brother,” a loving, lilting ode to a little brother. The simple voice and guitar arrangement of this piece showcase Fitzgerald’s voice, which is heartfelt and light. She moves around a melody with fluidity and grace. The sweet “Old Souvenirs” tells the tale of a long-gone female relative who remains in her life through an old photograph. The simple piano intro, like many of the keyboard licks on this album, is succinct and catchy.

Perhaps my favorite piece on the album is “Kaleidoscope,” a reflective lyric about purpose and one’s sense of self. A dominant and haunting piano line along with ethereal electronic effects drew me in. This accompaniment was similar to “Watching the World Go By,” but the addition of the unexpected changes and almost totemic bass drum pick-ups left a question at the end of each phrase and kept me addicted. The highly visual lyrics, akin to Verlaine’s symbolist verse, create an image as fluid and lovely as the music.

In Good Time, Annie’s first full length album, is a creative accomplishment.

Written by: Cristin Colvin, April 10th 2011

Small Source of Comfort

mandy — Sat, 26 Mar 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Bruce Cockburn

True North Records

Full disclosure: Bruce Cockburn (COE-burn) is Canadian; I’m Canadian. There aren’t that many of us. We’re the world’s second largest country, with a population smaller than California. So we back our homeys when they’re world-class: Angela Hewitt, Frederick Banting, Sandra Oh, Denys Arcand, Jim Carrey, Diana Krall, Leonard Cohen, Karen Kain, Tom Thomson, David Suzuki, Cirque du Soleil.

Which returns us to Bruce. The world-class part, that is. He’s a musician’s musician with an extraordinary scope as a lyricist, guitar player, and singer. He can do jazzy gutbucket ("Mama Just Wants to Barrelhouse All Night Long"), a beautiful country hymn ("One Day I Walk"), a great road song ("Silver Wheels"), an anti-war descant equal to Dylan ("If I Had A Rocket Launcher"), a funny blues ("The Blues Got The World By The Balls"), a credible cover of a classic blues ("Soul of a Man"), a rocker ("Lovers In A Dangerous Time") and several other genres. He is one of the planet’s best finger-pickers, which is why he has swapped licks with guitaristas such as Ali Farka Touré. The years have been good to his voice. His lower register has deepened but he hasn’t lost much at the top.

Small Source of Comfort is the singer’s thirty-first album (!) since he began in Ottawa forty-some years ago. A generous album of twelve songs and a coda it is, too. “Called Me Back” is a wry, LOL tune that imagines why someone wouldn’t return your call, for example, “Maybe his mother ran afoul of the law” or “He coulda slid into a society scene.” The instrumental “Bohemian 3-Step” is way uptempo and alternates between complex descending chords and the quick, complicated finger-picking at which he is so adept. He shows off his musicianship in four other instrumentals on this CD that run from jazz-rock fusion, “The Comets of Kandahar,” (with superb violin help from Jenny Scheinman); to the Debussyesque “Parnassus and Fog”; to the spare, what-you-might-call-new-age “Ancestors.”

His lyrics are as original as his guitar work. “Each One Lost” is part threnody with undertones of a Scottish ballad. Bruce spent a week in Afghanistan and was present when a plane brought in the bodies of two Canadian soldiers. The song is also a celebration of the freedom for which the men fought and died; its theme, as the title indicates, is reminiscent of John Donne’s famous passage from Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions, which contains the phrase “for whom the bell tolls.” It’s destined to be classic Cockburn.

“Call Me Rose” is an instant classic as well. The song begins, “My name was Richard Nixon only now I am a girl/You wouldn't know it but I used to be the king of the world.” Yes, the singer imagines Richard Nixon reincarnated as a young woman—with two kids living in the projects, working out his penance, learning what it means to be poor and powerless, but also learning how to endure. These two songs are alone worth the price of admission, and you get eleven more to boot, all of them very fine.

So there you have it. One Canadian shilling for a fellow Canuck? Or one Canadian telling the truth about his brother’s tunes? Bruce is a member of the Order of Canada, one of the country’s two highest civilian awards for merit. That’s a clue. So Canuck, Aussie, Kiwi, Yank, or Brit, you should buy this CD if you love the best. I swear by the beaver and the maple leaf you’ll be glad you blew the fifteen bucks.

Written by: Neil Flowers, March 26th 2011

The Ancestry

payal — Sat, 19 Mar 2011 08:00:00 +0000

By Jillian LaDage

Tarith Cote

While I’m not overly familiar with Celtic traditions or music, there was a lot for me to love about Jillian LaDage’s new album, The Ancestry. In the introduction, LaDage writes that her music explores the nature of remembrance, and both locates and preserves a kind of pan-Celtic “collective which resides in our memory.” In the CD booklet insert, each song’s lyrics are preceded by a short reverie, almost like a travel/research journal entry, dated by months in 2006, 2007, and 2008. I immediately felt kinship for LaDage’s project when I saw how the first song is introduced:

November 2006 Sweetheart Abbey, New Abbey, Scotland. The early morning mist rises as I walk these ancient grounds. I feel so keenly the presence of the modern age and yet I too see the pathways my ancestors left, the old ways that are never forgotten, where this kindling comes from within.

She goes on to tell the story of Devorgilla, Lady of Galloway, who established the Cistercian Abbey in 1272 in memory of her husband John. A rather unforgettable narrative, this past August it attracted me, too, to visit the admittedly misty abbey near the southwest coast of Scotland. The song was not actually one of my favorite four songs from the album, perhaps because of how unfamiliar I am with the sad sounds of the Uilleann pipes, but noting the synchronicity between cultural/geographical influences LaDage and I have tapped was a treat.

I most loved the middle songs, and this was partly due to my excitement at recognizing track four, a familiar traditional song, “Bonny was the Lady" (The Legend of Cong). I ultimately gained the deepest appreciation for the songs that followed, “Manzikert” and “Vanished Secrets.” In fact, I was mesmerized by their ethereal, timelessly feminine charm. I felt like I was listening to the soundtrack of a film in the same genre and of the same scope as The Lord of the Rings. LaDage's voice has incredible allure and purity, and as the cover picture suggests, she even plays harp (plus piano or keyboards) on several tracks.

There were songs I didn’t enjoy as much, but in trying to experience them fully, I found other things to savor about The Ancestry. For example, in the liner notes of “Eve of Night,” we see that LaDage was inspired by the following translation of Medieval Irish text from the gospel of Thomas, which she relates to the sometimes desperate character of Celtic migration:

“O King of the starry sky, Lest thou from me withdraw Thy light—Whether my house be dark or bright, My door shall close on none tonight."

Perhaps I found the song’s background more beautiful than the slow and ballad-like song itself, but I was perfectly prepared for a shift when “Keltoi” began, in which LaDage plays harp in a lilting, softly tribal sounding instrumental. In turn, “Keltoi” (the “first literary reference made by Greek historian Hecataeus of Miletus in 517 B.C. giving the Celtic peoples” a name) provides the perfect prologue to the final song on the album, “Endless Knot.” Her almost cooing earnestness in this song seems to evoke the longing of a boundless Celtic soul. It seems only fitting that The Ancestry ends where the voice, the compass, and then we, too, meet the wind. “There in the stillness meet the wind… There too we meet the wind.”

I would recommend this melodic selection of songs to anyone even tangentially interested in a Celtic cultural tradition or style of music. If occasionally the stories LaDage recounted felt too solemn to draw me in, they only served to underscore the transcendent beauty of her soaring voice at the close of each lyrical song.

Written by: Julie Ann, March 19th 2011

Any Way I Can

barbara — Thu, 17 Mar 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Adam Rader

Unleashed Music

Adam Rader is a solo pop musician who reminds me of John Mayer and Dave Matthews. Though his vocals are similar to Mayer’s and Matthews', I consider Rader's singing to be much smoother.

Two things surprised me about this "teaser" album. First, there are only two songs on it, and second, one of these songs is a cover of "In The Ghetto.” For some reason, this song will never be put out of its misery. It has been covered numerous times by various artists ever since Mac Davis originally spewed it forth in the 1960s. Once Elvis covered it, the song became immortal and forever doomed to keep popping up like a game of Whack-A-Mole. The last time I heard a cover of this song, it was being used on South Park, and that was only as a joke. The show's notoriously bigoted character Cartman was singing it while walking through his friend Kenny's repressed neighborhood. "In The Ghetto" is a tired, corny, offensive song that only belongs in a cartoon.

This brings us back to Adam Rader’s two-song EP. I'm surprised that a man who seemingly wants to convey John Mayer-esque sexuality would perform a song equivalent to a cold shower. Listening to his cover of "In The Ghetto" makes me cringe and laugh nervously. The song is musically solid and mellow, if you can manage to ignore the lyrics. However, ignoring the words is about as easy as sleeping with the lights on while your six-year-old nieces jump up and down on your bed, loudly demanding cookies and stuffed animals.

Rader's other song "Any Way I Can" is a light pop song. Again, John Mayer's face kept floating into my mind as I listened. I can easily see it being used on a television show or commercial, as well as an adult contemporary radio station. I look forward to seeing what Adam Rader puts forth in the future. Let's hope he picks better songs to cover next time.

Written by: Jacquie Piasta, March 17th 2011

Through the Night

payal — Wed, 16 Mar 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Jesse Harris

Mercer Street Records

I worked for four years in an independent record store. For those unfamiliar with what said environment might be like day in and day out, I would seriously suggest taking in High Fidelity. Read the novel by Nick Hornby or watch the film starring John Cusack; either way, you’ll get the idea. Like the characters, my co-workers and I did really stand around all day grousing about music—that is, of course, when we weren’t bemoaning our romantic fates and/or scanning the teeming crowd of shoppers for possible thieves.

It was during one such conversation with a highly opinionated co-worker and lifelong musician that the subject of the Shins’ debut album, Oh, Inverted World came up. Said co-worker obstinately resisted the pervasive cultural tide that was singing its praises, instead saying he thought the album was like cotton candy—something light and fluffy that requires a special sleight of hand to make it turn out just right, but entirely without substance. Sadly, this is also an apt description for singer, songwriter, and producer Jesse Harris’ latest release, Through the Night.

Harris’ Achilles heel is revealed right out of the gate: it’s in his delivery. Best known for being the award-winning songwriter behind Norah Jones’ debut album, the runaway success Come Away with Me, Harris has worked with an eclectic assortment of other artists, including Bright Eyes, Lisa Loeb, Madeleine Peyroux, Joshua Radin, and Solomon Burke. He’s a gifted intelligent lyricist and producer with a warm, gently nasal voice, both of which are used to perfectly serviceable effect on this album. Honestly, he seems like the pop musician Rivers Cuomo (Weezer) has always dreamed of being, and might have been, had Cuomo not listened to all that metal in the garage.

Unfortunately, Harris seems to favor high production value over singing with sincerity. He sounds emotionally disconnected from songs that, by their very nature, command some sort of emotional resonance. His is a concentrated polish that, in a perverse twist of musical logic, manages to strip that sought-after emotional connection away with layer upon layer of sound. The end result is schmaltz in favor of soul.

There are exceptions, of course. The lead-in rhythm on “Till You Drop” has a jaunty gallop to it, and the squeaky ape-like noises on the fadeout at the end make this otherwise Beatles-esque pop song sound odd in a good way. “It’s a Long Way Just to Say Hello” and “Dream of the Past” gently skirt poignancy yet still resonates with me. “All Day All Night” has a nice palate-cleansing bossa nova sound.

Overall, though, this is Starbucks music. Through The Night might have been interesting had it been released several decades ago. As it stands now, though, it just sounds like something a baby boomer would put on in the background during brunch, or while dusting the tchotchkes in the living room on cleaning day.

Written by: M. Brianna Stallings, March 16th 2011

Two

mandy — Fri, 04 Mar 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By The Chapin Sisters

Lake Bottom Records

I would not be the least bit surprised to learn that the ability to write a catchy pop song is a hereditary trait, in addition to being a skill developed over time. That definitely seems to be the case with Los Angeles sister duo Chapin Sisters. Their lineage is chock full of singer-songwriters, including their father, Tom Chapin, and their more well-known uncle, the late Harry Chapin, who wrote and performed “Cat’s In the Cradle.” With their self-produced second full-length release, fittingly titled Two, the Chapin Sisters prove themselves to be worthy predecessors, albeit ones in need of a bit more practice.

The pair has keen ears and seem to know something about what can make pop music truly transcendent. Remember a couple of years back, when it seemed like every indie artist and her mother was covering the Gnarls Barkley hit “Crazy?” That’s because the song had a great beat with familiar yet poignant lyrics—a winning combination for any pop classic. Similarly, the Chapin Sisters were one of many groups in the mid-aughts to cover a song made famous by Britney Spears. They first garnered a bit of buzz in 2006, with their heavenly slowcore folk version of Spears’ “Toxic.”

Abigail and Lily share duties on songwriting, as well as vocals, guitars, keyboards, and percussion; separately, Lily is on banjo and Abigail plays the flute. The album also features performances from Louis Stephens of Rooney (with whom The Chapin Sisters have recently toured), and Jesse Lee and Josh Diamond of New York experimental band Gang Gang Dance. The lyrics are chock full of sweet deceptively simple language, and often skirt that very fine line between effortlessly crafted enduring pop and too-familiar schmaltz. Every song seems to start out basic, with either just voices or sparse instrumentation, then starts to build up, taller and bigger with more sound – more horns, more percussion, more harmonies. It works well, so long as you choose to block out the fact that almost every song is following that formula.

Despite Two having been recorded in the New Jersey woods, there is a very Fleetwood Mac quality to The Chapin Sisters. Let me explain: Fleetwood Mac started as a British blues/folk band then, with the addition of Lindsay Buckingham and Stevie Nicks, became known as the quintessential California band. As with The Mac, The Chapin Sisters combine tight harmonies, traditional British folk sounds, a vaguely haunted aesthetic and a gentle airiness. Excellent examples include “Sweet Light,” “Paradise,” and “Palm Tree.” Meanwhile, “Digging a Hole” sounds less Nicks-style “Gypsy” and more genuine world-music-style gypsy. The flute is put to good use on this track, which sounds like it should be sung around a campfire.

Overall, the songs on Two are the sort that make you want to stand in a the middle of a field or dark concert hall while wearing a long skirt that you grab at the corners as you swish and sway in place, set adrift on the ocean of sound.

Written by: M. Brianna Stallings, March 4th 2011

Love Will Find a Way

beth — Wed, 02 Mar 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Lola Bleu

HSP Music

Lola Bleu, aka twenty-two-year-old R&B singer Janell McCracken, has a fine voice, so it’s a shame she doesn’t have better material to showcase it on her debut album, Love Will Find a Way. While some of the songs have catchy melodies, excessive instrumentation detracts from and sometimes obscures Bleu’s voice. A more restrained approach would have conveyed pathos on the soul-searching numbers but often emotion is lost in a wall of sound.

A phone call between two friends, in which one complains about feeling unsatisfied in her relationship, sets up the story. The other tracks cover various stages of a romantic relationship: fantasizing about a seemingly unreachable man (“Hate to Wake Up”), being stuck in a dysfunctional relationship (“Deep Pain”), breaking up in an empowering way (“So Over You”), and finding love again (“I Found You”).

Despite the production flaws, Bleu shows promise on both fast-paced dance tracks and reflective slow songs. “Get Away” is a standout; the doubled vocals and dance beat will have you tapping your toes and moving your shoulders, and it is less crowded instrumentally. The hand-clapping rhythm of “So Over You” will also stick in your head. Bleu’s solid delivery of two more heartfelt songs that hint that her talents may be best suited for ballads. Piano and strings distinguish “Where Do We Go from Here,” a mature, recrimination-free look at a stalled romantic relationship. “Don’t get me wrong, I love being around you… but it seems our flame has suddenly disappeared,” she sings. The introspective lyrics of “A Little Hope,” which is anchored by piano and electric guitar, also ring true.

Bleu’s persona and vocals are reminiscent of Rihanna and one hopes she will find material worthy of her musical gifts. She is a promising singer and deserves to have the spotlight shine on her talent.

Written by: Karen Duda, March 2nd 2011

Pink Nasty

payal — Tue, 01 Mar 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Pink Nasty

Independent

As a Pink Nasty novice, I was pleasantly surprised when I found out that her musical style is a cross between Weezer and Rilo Kiley/Jenny Lewis. Hailing from Wichita, Kansas, Sara Beck, aka Pink Nasty, is rapper Black Nasty’s sister (apparently Black Nasty gave his little sis her name). She describes her music as "neurotic pop", which—as a feminist—I want to reject: is it based on the notion that heartfelt, raw lyrics are neurotic, or more specifically ‘neurotically female’? (Or, maybe I am just being a little neurotic).

Sara Beck has a powerful voice and makes no excuses for her bold lyrics that tell the story of inner monologues and conversations and arguments we’ve all had. In Pink Nasty’s own words, her music is “as if Julian Casablancas and Rivers Cuomo had a baby and guess what—it’s a girl!”

If she was your friend, she’d probably write you long emails of run-on sentences, spurting platitudes as well as brilliant insights. But count yourself lucky, you can hear her do that. She is one who could sing love ballads for a living with big studio-produced backing but we are fortunate that she has chosen the country/alt. rock combo that can have you nodding your head, banging your air-drums or quietly gripping that place where your heart is because at the end of the day, the drama of relationships and all the ‘neurosis’ it can deliver is universal. And, it sounds sexy as hell. Just listen to this line that got stuck in my head on the Underground so hard that I wanted to shout it out: "Down in the dirt, in my skirt, I will waaaaait!" (“Prince Pavement”). Is it just the banality of stringing together words that rhyme? Find out for yourself. This one is worth a listen.

Written by: Anna Matussek, March 1st 2011

Hawk

payal — Sat, 26 Feb 2011 08:00:00 +0000

By Mark Lanegan, Isobel Campbell

Vanguard Records

Mark Lanegan—hey, I know that name.
You sure do. Mark Lanegan fronted Screaming Trees, one of the better bands to come out of the early '90s Seattle grunge scene. They never gained the attention or commercial success of Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, or Nirvana, and their minor success was propelled mostly by “Nearly Lost You,” a track from the soundtrack for how-very-zeitgeisty film Singles. After grunge was discarded in favor of nu-metal, gangsta rap, boy bands, and factory pop, Mark Lanegan didn't remain with his old band churning out increasingly bad records or touring on nostalgia value. He joined Queens of the Stone Age, made music with Greg Dulli (of the Afghan Whigs) as the Twilight Singers and the Gutter Twins, and has released well-received solo records.

Isobel Campbell—that sounds pretty familiar, too.
Well, it should. Isobel Campbell was a member of indie darlings Belle and Sebastian from their inception in 1996 until her departure in 2002, as cellist, keyboardist, and backing vocals. She released two records under the name The Gentle Waves and has collaborated with Mark Lanegan for three albums, which is considered her breakout.

It's an odd pairing—the twee Scottish lass and the aging, rough-singing American troubadour, sounding here for all the world like a low-living Leonard Cohen. Campbell, who is credited with most of the songwriting and all of the producing and arranging, mostly sings backup or harmonizes with Lanegan throughout the record. She has a fine, serviceable, and lovely voice whose femininity works well with Lanegan's bluesy-grungy growl. Most of the record is a quiet hum, including a nice cover of Townes Van Zandt's “No Place To Fall,” but a New Orleans-style jazz/blues number (“Get Behind Me”) placed directly at track six cuts through the lull with all the subtlety of a brass band at an Ash Wednesday service.

Hawk is slightly uneven, but I don't find that to be a fault. It's a little piece of obscure southern-style Americana, with its jazz/blues/alt-country/gospel influences, and Isobel Campbell's voice is mellifluous enough to pass for any number of American female pop-rock singers pre-1980. I was fond of this record and it grew better and better with repeated spins.

Written by: Natalie Ballard, February 26th 2011

Skin Collision Past

payal — Fri, 25 Feb 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Wild Moccasins

Independent

I was excited about this album within moments of pushing play. Wild Moccasins could not be rebuffed by the aging speakers of my 1980s boombox. Their energy electrified the faux-fur seat covers of my red Volvo. I found myself sitting in the parking lot, unwilling to go into the grocery store until I had listened to all nine tracks. I resisted the urge to text my friends that I had found… something new! Something young! Something untouched by Brooklyn’s current brand of cool! Something imperfect yet full of promise… something worth keeping an eye on.

Skin Collision Past is the third output by a young band from Houston Texas: their first “full-length” album, though it runs only thirty minutes with no song outstaying its pop-song-welcome of four minutes. The songs are urban, confident, and joyful. It is delightfully not hook-oriented, and attempts to be much more mature than the age of any one of the band’s members. It is the best of 2010: full of retro nods, but incontrovertibly modern in song structure and rhythm.

This quintet must have a lot of fun together, and if they don’t, they sure do a good job of faking it. The two singers have voices to kill, especially Zahira Gutierrez, who sounds like a richer and more exact Jenny Lewis. Her buttery tones soar above the insistent energy of the band, never letting up for a moment. She is spot on. The best part is that they have avoided the feeling of her vocals being a decorative add-on to a male-driven sound. She is as much a part of the band as anyone, and is at the core of what makes their sound exciting.

The lyrics, all written by Cody Swann, are straight out of a late teen’s diary: full of anxiety, overly analytical social observations, and a sort of naïve paranoia. The text of the album is not what makes it special. Without the help of the CD insert, no one would be able to discern what words they’re singing, and I don’t think anyone would care. But if you do delve into Cody’s writing, you’ll find someone who is struggling hard with language to convey the vague social pressures they feel but cannot name. He writes in the song “Chapter Four” about being carried off by an imaginary sea, trying to finish writing his sentences despite the flood and sea demons: “Now I know/no one knows/what we’ve wrote”. Skin Collision Past is about trying to find a space for expression in the face of a world that seems inhospitable to being vulnerable. It is the voice of young creatives, just beginning to find their way. I for one am giving Wild Moccasins all my support as they keep on keepin’ on. I think great things are yet to come.

Written by: Beth Fagan, February 25th 2011

Hunting My Dress

farhana — Mon, 21 Feb 2011 08:00:00 +0000

By Jesca Hoop

Vanguard Records

Attention wiccans and hippies—Jesca Hoop’s Hunting My Dress (with Bonus EP) is your new theme music. Ethereal and bluesy, this nine-track album and folksy five song EP are a call to light incense, join a drum circle and bake your own bread.

Hunting My Dress is Hoop’s second full-length album. Her musical career commenced in 2003 when Tom Waits (she had worked as a nanny for his children) endorsed her work. This high-profile support led to an EP Silverscreen Demos in 2004 and later the 2007 critically-acclaimed album Kismet. Another EP, Kismet Acoustic followed in 2008.

From the pagan-sounding chorus of “Whispering Light” to the hushed madrigal vibe of the title track on Hunting My Dress, Hoop shows an interest in the album as a cohesive art form. Instead of staying in the realm of random plays on an iPod, Hoop’s songs speak to each other with a surreal lyricism, creating an otherworldly narrative of medieval kingdoms, long-distance lovers, childhood trees, and old-school stereos.

There’s more mysticism in Hoop’s lyrics than an Anne Rice novel: “Under the spell of full November moon/ light on the broom/ frost in my room/ in through a window came a ghost I knew.”

Musical influences abound in her work—many of the songs on Hunting My Dress are reminiscent of other artists. “Angel Mom” recalls the vocals of Kate Bush—plaintive and mournful. Hoop’s matter-of-fact guitar and vocals on “Bed Across the Sea” evoke Ani DiFranco. Lusty and percussion-driven, “Four Dreams” recollects Jane’s Addiction's Ritual de lo Habitual. Yet these diverse influences create an indefinite persona—if Hoop can be all of these artists, then who is she outside of them? Another example of this artistic ambiguity is the brogue that appears in a few songs. Hoop is an American living in England—so (like Madonna before her) she has clearly picked up an accent.

Is she British or not British? Is she Kate Bush or Jane’s Addiction? It’s not that Hoop can’t be both or all of the above. But at some point, an artist has to move away from her influences to determine her identity. Hoop tries on different musical styles in Hunting My Dress and they all fit perfectly. However, her creative forces—the lyrical narratives, mysticism and expansive sense of musical experimentation—will be obscured if she continues to only echo other artists.

An untitled Bonus EP is included with Hunting My Dress. Three Kismet songs, a B-side from the UK version of Hunting My Dress, and collaboration with Blake Mills makes up the compilation.

First-time listeners experience a less mystic Hoop on this EP, and fans who know her music can re-visit the directness of her earlier pop-folk style. The roots of Hoop’s experimentation can be heard in “Enemy,” an indie-ballad in the key of Liz Phair, but the EP revels in guitar and vocals. Stand-outs are the buoyant love song “My Boo” and the alternative rock duet “Wintersong.”

Hunting My Dress and the Bonus EP show different sides of Jesca Hoop. Folk singer and pagan chorus, she is unafraid of exploring musical styles. As Hoop develops as an artist, it will be fascinating to see which style becomes her own.

Written by: Andrea Dulanto, February 21st 2011

Elevator Art

alicia — Thu, 27 Jan 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Elevator Art

For a band working without the backing of a label, Elevator Art has crafted a disc that has the sound of a group with a fountain of money at their disposal. Sure, money isn’t everything, but I can tell you from personal experience that it makes a huge difference when you are in a small band with nothing but sad, starving little moths in your pockets and a record that needs mastering, artwork, and printing.

Elevator Art obviously put a lot of work and a considerable amount of hard-earned bread into this recording—and every dollar and hour spent recording, mixing, and mastering has clearly been worth the effort. Really, if they are able to turn a profit, why even bother with label backing? They clearly have the artistic side of the industry figured out.

Elevator Art mixes and mashes various genres into a stew of epic proportions—a generous helping of ‘70s arena guitar-driven rock, a smattering of ‘60s anti-war psychedelia, a pinch of Mars Volta, and a dab of Weezer and the Beatles, and you essentially have their self-titled debut album. Heck, there is even a Jethro Tull-esque flute solo.

The album opens with an uptempo mixture of crunchy guitar rock and wacky lyrics (something about a pregnant baby, a dog on stilts, and a unicorn that died) and is propelled by Yes-inspired tracks like “Punch and Judy.” They also throw in some country influences on “Autumn Epitaph” and channel Pink Floyd on “How Does the Day Find You” which sounds like it could have been a track on Meddle.

I do have a small bone to pick with the drums and bass. There are moments that the drums sound like electric drums (most obviously in a section close to the end of “Matryoshka” and also on “Peter Rabbit”). I’m not sure if it was intentional, but I would have preferred a more natural sound throughout. Also, Mike Jonin is a great bass player, but I wish his sound was a bit fuller—his bass gets a bit lost with so much mid-range and so little bottom end.

These are really very small criticisms, as most of the sound on the album is superb. The guitar, in particular, is clear and precise on every track, reminding me a bit of the crispness of tracks like “Young Pilgrims” by The Shins. Overall, this is a worthy recording by a band that is clearly dedicated to their craft.

Written by: Emily S. Dunster, January 27th 2011