synthesizer

Old Punch Card

beth — Fri, 01 Oct 2010 16:00:00 +0000

Over the past few years, Chicago-based singer, songwriter, photographer, and painter Sam Prekop has dabbled in all sorts of music. He’s collaborated with Broken Social Scene, Prefuse 73, and even had his work sampled in a toilet paper commercial. Most well known as frontman for The Sea and Cake, he set out to make a brand new kind of record, in no way resembling anything he’s ever done. On that count, he succeeds.

When I put on Old Punch Card, I expected an album filled with pop rock tunes about nostalgia. What I got was a record that literally sounds like an old punch card machine: whirring, screeching, and clunking as it choked on a metaphorical train ticket. My partner glanced over and said, “Was the download corrupted?” “This is electronic avant garde,” I deadpanned. He waited for me to call bullshit.

Prekop himself explains, “I've left the confines of ‘song’ structure.” Created in his home studio, the album of only synthesizer music—none of Prekop’s mellow, pop vocals are heard; no lyrics written, no words uttered—composed in mostly winter months. The chilling effect is present and reminds us all that autumn is coming but winter will fiercely follow. I live up north; it’s August and I’m already wearing sweaters and wool socks. I dread the official season change.

“The Silhouettes,” the first official single from the album, is one of the more pleasant mixes. It fades in and out, just pop enough to bring to mind Dntel. “Knitting Needles” sounds like the soundtrack to an indie film interlude. Others, I found difficult, near unlistenable.

An artistic offering from a man of many mediums, the album covers are hand painted. I hope Prekop returns to what he does best and leaves the experimental noise for people with less enjoyable vocal stylings.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, October 1st 2010

Success or Suicide

admin — Sat, 17 Jul 2010 23:58:00 +0000

By Vertigo Venus

In the beginning, there were two: brothers Jeff and Chris Cannon. These Michiganders, transplanted to the Land of Enchantment otherwise known as New Mexico, started a band–a boisterous beast named Vertigo Venus. With their first release in 2004, they commanded (like the bossiest of stage mothers) that we listeners Sing Pretty! Then in 2007 with their second album, new band members came on board and things got a little ominous, as we were told to Run for Your Lives.

Now in 2010, Vertigo Venus' latest five-member incarnation comes at us, teeth bared, as their new album fiercely proclaims Success Or Suicide (also known by the abbreviation S.O.S.). In addition to the Brothers Cannon, the band roster also includes bassist Ken Cornell (also the mastermind behind experimental noise outfit Alchemical Burn); drummer and noted solo electronic artist Brian Botkiller; and lead synth/keyboard player Jessica Crockett.

It's appropriate to refer to this most recent Vertigo Venus album–which features four re-releases, two new original tracks and one cover–by either its full title or the abbreviation; both get the point across. The full title conveys the group's absolute determination to give this rock band thing everything they've got, while S.O.S., better known as the Morse code distress signal, shows a band anxious to be seen, heard, and ultimately rescued by discerning listeners from the miasma of today's musical landscape.

Vertigo Venus is certainly gifted at getting attention, most notably during a 2009 mini-tour of California, and as opening acts performing with such groups as Mindless Self Indulgence and The Birthday Massacre. The accolades have started coming in, too. S.O.S. opening track “Spy Vs. Spy” won a production award at the 2010 New Mexico Music Awards.

As a band, Vertigo Venus defines itself both by who they are (defiant metal-infused synthpunk monsters) and who they hate (phonies, corporate America, and brooding self-indulgent whiners of the goth/emo persuasion). Lead singer/synth player Jeff Cannon cheerfully spits antagonistic vitriol on every song. Highlights include “Monday Mourning” (with the ranting chorus “Shut up and die/ Everybody hates you”) and “Boob Tube” (which smacks apathetic distractable hipsters in the face and reminds us that “you can't say shit without big tits”).

Their most noteworthy song, however, would have to be “Punk Rock Cheerleader,” originally released on Sing Pretty! Described in a press release as a “sing-along-like-you-mean-it” anthem, this scathing indictment of phony mall-bought rebellion is the song for which they are best known. Auto-Tune and vocoder abound in the emo-mocking bridge before transitioning into a rallying cry complete with claps and stomps. There is a certain glorious irony in shining an accusatory spotlight on poseurs with rousing fist-pumping anthems.

Not everybody's going to like Vertigo Venus. They're loud. They're angry. They're bratty. That's okay, though. Vertigo Venus doesn't need–or want–mass approval. Which, in my mind, is exactly what makes them so likable and so deserving of fame.

Written by: M. Brianna Stallings, July 17th 2010

Maniac Meat

admin — Sat, 19 Jun 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Tobacco

Anticon

Sometimes I can send off a record review in ten minutes. Excited by the tunes in my headphones or emanating from my computer’s tinny speakers, my fingers fly across the keys with artistic inspiration. Other times, it takes time and a few repeat spins of the disc to let the music settle into my brain. Tobacco’s Maniac Meat is one such record.

You could ask, what’s happening here? A better question is, what isn’t? So many sounds merge on this album that it can be difficult to discern how these arrangements were conceived, let alone constructed. Tobacco, who is also the frontman of Pittsburgh’s experimental psychedelic outfit Black Moth Super Rainbow, is known as much for his borderline hip-hop beats as he is for his solo analog-based electronic collages. Rolling Stone called his first album “stoner-rock.” Since I don’t indulge, you’ll have to find out about this one yourself.

The entirety of Maniac Meat sounds like a cross between an underwater concert, some synthed-out Dosh, and a few Daft Punk samples. “Creepy Phone Calls” is a dance hit of epic proportion. Less distortion and more danceable synth, the track is lyric-less but soulful. “New Juices From the Hot Tub Freaks” brings some serious rock to the mix with heavy guitars—or at least, a vocoder sample that sounds exactly like them.

The album’s two tracks featuring guest instrumentation or vocals, “Fresh Hex” and “Grape Aerosmith” sound like Beck songs for a reason. Mr. Hansen, auteur of noise, makes a guest appearance, though according to Tobacco, the two never met during their collaboration. The wonders of lo-fi genius at work in our modern world.

BMSR may be SXSW darlings, but Tobacco also gets away with doing few interviews. I like privacy in the age of oversharing. I like artistic merit in a time of paparazzi-based acclaim. And I like anyone who uses a tape machine when a Mac with some audio software will do. Because for some of us, it won’t.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, June 18th 2010

This Is Happening

admin — Tue, 18 May 2010 16:01:00 +0000

By LCD Soundsystem

DFA

This can go one of two ways. You can put this album on the loudspeakers of your choice and busy yourself with life until the best beats drop and you are unable to stop yourself from dancing around wildly, close to whatever said speakers you chose. Or, you can do as I do: ready the tunes, put on the headphones, and sit down. You’re going to need to fully absorb the genius before you try to dance to this record.

How does one come to produce some of the greatest ironic dance music of the decade? As co-founding producer of DFA Records, James Murphy certainly learned from some of the best. For me, his legacy is a blend of Le Tigre remixes, that forty-five minute album he made for Nike, and LCD Soundsystem songs about distance, love, and sorrow.

The Sound of Silver singles—namely, “All My Friends” and “Someone Great”—defined my grad school years in Boston, a time of healing from heartbreak, strangely disappointing friendships, and a renewed sense of self and personal goals. What will This Is Happening mean to my life? What will it mean to yours?

Though “Pow Pow” was released on Record Store Day, I have been told that “Drunk Girls” is the album’s first official single. There’s likely one driving factor behind that decision: it’s the album’s shortest song, clocking in at 3:44. Every other tune pushes the six, seven, eight, or nine-minute mark. I also hear early album critics don’t like the track. No matter; I don’t believe in that baby/bathwater dichotomy.

Most acts wouldn’t open a nine-track album with a nine-minute song, but most groups are not this type of brilliant. It takes more than three minutes for “Dance Yrself Clean” to move from a few handclaps, cow bell, and deadpan chants to a full-fledged synth-infused dance-punk anthem, but then, that is the point.

Similarly, the build-up in a song like “You Wanted A Hit” is—at least for me—one of the main reasons to listen to a band like LCD Soundsystem. Three minutes into the track, you’re still waiting for the chorus to kick in, for the heavier beats to drop. “You wanted a hit/But we don’t do hits,” Murphy chants. Only he’s wrong; they do hits in every single song.

Should I be comforted or absolutely fucking terrified that Murphy, a man twelve years my senior, sings about the very things that plague me? How can an album so closely mirror my entire existence? Consider some of the lyrics of “Home:”

This is the trick
Forget a terrible year
This is what you waited for

If you’re afraid of what you need
Look around you, you’re surrounded
It won’t get any better

What can I say about This Is Happening that Murphy does not himself include in the lyrics? “I can change/If it helps you fall in love.”

I could bemoan the Internet rumors that this is the band’s last album. Instead, I will cherish what I have, now. With references to moving to the back of the bus and the desire to wake up next to the girl you took home last night, this album is the perfect blend of indispensable '00s hipster aesthetic and thoughtful analysis of our cultural zeitgeist.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, May 18th 2010

In Evening Air

admin — Tue, 04 May 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Future Islands

Thrill Jockey

Synthpop is my steeze. I like to dance, I like to daydream staring out of train windows, and I’m a woman-child passing for an adult on the days that I’m forced to leave the house. This sappy, manufactured genre could have been created just for me and my wild ideas about the big world in which I am so small. I don’t care in which decade it was produced; I’ve been known to adore anything from Modern Talking to Pet Shop Boys to Freezepop. Are there multi-layered keyboards involved in the making of the music? Then I’ll probably like it.

Future Islands, a Baltimore band signed to Thrill Jockey just last year, makes the sort of goofy romantic tunes I love. I can imagine dancing at my best friend’s impending nuptials to “Walking Through That Door,” arms outstretched, spinning in circles in front of the outdated DJ booth in the corner of a Middle American banquet hall. I can even imagine looking at the video fifteen years later, thinking, “That dress is awesomely retro, and so is that song!” I never tire of feeling like it’s 1986 and love is in the air. This song evokes this feeling; every time I put it on, I am elated.

As the second half of the album rolls on, the formerly upbeat party music segues into softer, mellowed pop. Songs like “Tin Man” make use of what sounds like steel drums and a marimba, while “An Apology” puts vocalist Sam Herring’s raspy vocals to the test a la Tom Waits. “Swept Inside,” which is lovely and worth a slow two-step around your living room, is also the sort of song that could end up backing a tearful moment on The City, Brooklyn in the background, sort of gray and mournful, much like your life is supposed to be. This isn’t a criticism; it’s just the way this music works. And it does that–it works.

The album winds down in the way a sappy television show wraps up, or the way the aforementioned wedding will probably end. Everyone will hug and cry and there will be slow-motion laughter that will seem even better looking back. In Evening Air is a complete album experience, from jubilant beginning to bittersweet end.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, May 4th 2010

Bad City

admin — Mon, 03 May 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Saadi

Paper Garden Records

Saadi is in love with music. It's fun to guess where the loops and tracks come from on their debut album, Bad City. Their influences are far-ranging, and combine '70s dance, '80s synth, choir vocals, and traditional Arabic music.

The title track is a solid dance anthem. The song's companion remix is particularly hot, too. It evokes a busy cityscape inflected with tribal beats.

"Birds" reminds me of Blondie dancing to a slower tempo around her heart of glass. In "Pollen-Seeking Bees," I think the DJ stumbled upon an endearing piano piece and wanted to put it to use somehow. If this album is a dance party, then "Pollen-Seeking Bees" is the book-reading wallflower refusing beer at said party.

The final track is a cover of Bob Dylan's "Daddy You've Been On My Mind." This is not just another sober guest on this album, but a surprisingly somber one as well. This song is filled with choir vocals and heartfelt sentiment. Saadi's vocals seem to be pleading, eulogistic, or possibly both.

It is unclear who "Daddy" is to Saadi. Maybe it's her father, or a nickname for some other (presumably male) person in her life. I'm leaning towards it being her father, because she references to "the language of my father" in the title track. Regardless, Saadi's unique take on this often revisited classic made me feel both moved and empathetic.

Bad City is not a bad album. It's well mixed with interesting sources, floating vocals, and an overall smooth disposition. However, they're difficult to pigeonhole into a particular genre due to the diversity and disparateness of their influences and sound. Sometimes they make me want to dance; at other times, I ruminate with their hymns. I don't think Saadi wants to be limited by category or genre, although they do give the impression that they're still exploring their signature sound.

Written by: Jacquie Piasta, May 2nd 2010

Fabric 50

admin — Wed, 07 Apr 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Martyn

Fabric Records

The ever-prolific Fabric series returns with this effort from Dutch producer Martyn. Known for his work in dubstep, the mix starts out perfectly with Hudson Mohawke’s incredibly funky song “Joy Fantastic.” Martyn follows it up with two more drum-heavy tracks designed to get you dancing, and by the end of Nubian Mindz’s “Bossa Boogie,” which has an insanely catchy synth line, I was fully committed to dancing hard to this album.

Many of the tracks have a sound distinctly influenced by African and South American rhythms, like the two Zomby tracks, “Little Miss Naughty” especially. But even as Martyn looks to many places for influence, all of the tracks have a common theme of looking to the future to find new ways to make people dance, and perhaps more importantly, always be interesting to listen to.

Martyn’s track mixing is impeccable, as I hardly noticed when one track ended and the next began because of his subtle and masterful mixes. The songs all bring something different to the album, but they blend to create a perfectly curated mix that is a must have for your Saturday night play list.

Written by: Dana Reinoos, April 7th 2010

Shady Retreat

admin — Sun, 04 Apr 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Peasant

Paper Garden Records

Here’s the dilemma: I like a lot of divergent genres. Living in northern Europe the past eighteen months, I’ve been able to embrace my unabashed love of electronic club music and synthpop. I live in the birthplace of Eurovision, in the land of ABBA. Well, I’m twenty miles south of Sweden, but you get the idea.

My partner and I are making plans to move home within the calendar year, though “home” may become anywhere from NYC to Silicon Valley because he’s a start-up guy looking for funding. On an intercontinental phone call with my Indiana-based best friend the other night, I lamented how much I would miss The Voice, a European answer to what MTV was when it actually played music. I can switch on the appallingly commercial station at almost any hour of the day and catch a mix of Danish bubblegum pop, American hip-hop, and French club music. “When I get back, I’ll have to go back to listening to my college radio cry rock again,” I moaned to my pal, only then fully realizing just how far removed I’d become from the world I’d once inhabited.

To ease back into the idea of being stateside, I’ve been listening to Peasant. A bit more heavy-handed production-wise compared to Damien Derose’s first album, Shady Retreat is an excellent follow-up for folks who dig mellow songwriter jams—or people like me, who have to force themselves back into a once-loved genre.

The opening track, “Thinking,” starts rather abruptly, almost as though the producer meant to fade up the track but got excited at the last minute. Thankfully, other songs make up for the unsettling intro. “Prescriptions” is a cross between mellow folk-rock and a country ballad, complete with the clop-clop horse trotting sound effect in the background. It may be nothing more elaborate than a block being hit with a stick a la elementary school music class, but it produced an endearing, lo-fi quality for a wanna-be country gal like myself. I even felt my own Midwestern instincts kicking back in as I listened to “Into the Woods.” “Don’t go out into the woods,” Derose croons. No joke. I can get behind staying home where it’s safe and warm.

If you think you’re a club kid who hates sad bastard singer-songwriters, think again.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, April 4th 2010

What Day Is It Tonight? (Live 1993-2008)

admin — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 09:00:00 +0000

Trans Am

Thrill Jockey

Hipster culture exists and sustains itself on a continuous loop, a vicious never-ending cycle, like a Möbius strip or an Ouroboros, the snake eating its own tail. Take something once mainstream and now uncool, adopt it with tongue planted firmly in cheek as “so bad it's good,” deem said sound/product/style “cool,” and watch as it is co-opted by a broader audience and becomes mainstream. Later, rinse and repeat. Every once in a while such a revival of the old dredges up some long-lost gem, but most of the time it's just masturbatory. It's hard to know which of these – true appreciative nostalgia or hipsterdom – motivates Trans Am.

When it comes to culture, it seems very likely that people can revive punk or disco or New Wave from now until the end of time. Trans Am has based their entire musical careers on revivalism, specializing in the recording and performance of original music that sounds like it was originally made by someone else. Much like British band Primal Scream, Trans Am are professional genre hoppers. The group is definitely possessed of the musical alacrity it takes to convince the casual listener that Trans Am is serious about the songs Trans Am makes. They've undergone a number of different sonic incarnations over the years, including krautrock and electro-funk. It's a point made plain by their December 2009 release, What Day Is It Tonight? (Although given a limited release of 1500 copies – and now listed as discontinued by the manufacturers on Amazon.com – the live album is still available as an MP3 download.)

The group's sense of humor permeates every song, from titles to instrument choices, from rhythms to how they use reverb. Vocals are filtered through vocoders and synthesziers. Opening track “Conspiracy of the Gods” is bombastic wankery from first note to last. Frantic '80s car-chase-scene guitars and a rolling surge of drums accompany that classic unmistakable '80s keyboard warble. It's a track played with genuine passion in the midst of the group's supposedly mocking interest; it even ends with the classic boom drum wind down. "Tesco v. Sainsbury's" is inexplicably about two British supermarket chains. Because their music is predominantly instrumental, there are no lyrics to explain why Trans Am chose to record a song that supposedly pits two grocery stores against one another. They just recorded the song, and perform it quickly and efficiently.

As a listener with a deep-seated disdain for noodling and a longtime appreciation for synthy rock mishmashes, my own aesthetic sensibilities mean I'm personally more inclined to like the blippy and the bloopy tracks, although “Play In The Summer” (from 2000's “The Red Line”) is a good guitar-driven track. There are two things that strike me as odd about this live album. First of all, although the album claims to cover the band's career from 1993 through 2008, the group's Allmusic.com biography states that the band formed in 1990, but didn't record until 1995. Secondly, while there are seventeen songs on What Day Is It Tonight?, none of those songs come from their first three albums. Trans Am released an album a year from 1996 through 2000, but the first album whose live songs are on “What Day Is It Tonight?” is the 1999 release “Futureworld.”

Maybe this is all part of their self-awareness of the clichés of popular music.

Written by: M. Brianna Stallings, March 9th 2010

Transference

admin — Thu, 28 Jan 2010 17:02:00 +0000

By Spoon

Merge Records

Do you have a band with which you feel a connection that far surpasses all others? Are you a writerly music nerd who wouldn’t dream of interviewing said band for fear the mystique would be shattered? I reserve such ardor for only one band. I met Spoon frontman Britt Daniel a few times over the years at various North American concerts. Once, I had the guts to say, “Hi, I’m Britt too.” He put his arm around my shoulders, made a fist with his other hand, and took a photo with me. It’s crazy intense. So is my love for his band.

I can’t normally write about Spoon because my deep devotion to their music simply doesn’t feel properly transferred to the page. I’m so wholly obsessed with my own insular lyrical interpretations that I can’t typically bring myself to philosophize about them in public. I am the ultimate fangirl in a white boy musical land, but dammit if I don’t know just as much about Spoon and own every obscure 7” vinyl, complication track, and b-side single they’ve released in the past fifteen years.

I am trying to push myself as a writer, and quite frankly, you need to know about this album. Transference, the new record from Spoon and an appropriate nod to the way I treat their lyrics and music as my own personal autobiographical soundtrack, is yet another gem in a discography of precious stones. Cryptic lyrics, brilliant synth, complex percussion, and Daniel’s sultry voice have fused to make another superior record.

Opening track “Before Destruction” brings to mind the much loved but terribly overlooked Soft Effects EP. In what I hear as a nod to self-loathing, Daniel croons, “Everyone loves you for your black eye.” I sure hope so.

What would it mean for an ex-partner to call and say “Is love forever?” The song of the same name poses the question, and I took a moment to ponder how my life partner ended up having roughly the same floppy hair and thin physique as Mr. Daniel.

Misplaced nostalgia and ideas of disappearing to where no one will know you are prominent on “The Mystery Zone.” As someone who has moved to new unknown cities several times, I should mention that this concept sounds much better in song.

Reminiscent of Kill the Moonlight's “Paper Tiger” or “The Infinite Pet” from Gimme Fiction, the incredibly pared down “Who Makes Your Money” repeatedly offers that very inquiry. For the first time in my life, I am not the highest (or sole) income earner in my relationship. Indeed, who makes my money?

“Got Nuffin” is a leg-slapping, foot-tapping anthem about how you have “nothing to lose but darkness and shadows.” I’ve admittedly had the Got Nuffin EP since it was released last year, but the track’s inclusion on Transference loses nothing from repeated previous plays.

I could explain every track in perfect detail, its first-rate arrangement. Britt Daniel is one of the few men who could make lyrics like “You were there but you weren’t” or “All I know is all I know” sound ingenious. I digress for the sake of space.

Every time a new Spoon record drops, I have to wait until I have alone time at home to put it on without distractions. I treat no other band with such reverence. I can’t believe they make this music, and that it is so consistently amazing. Run—I mean it, RUN—to get your copy of Transference.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, January 28th 2010

Abnormally Attracted to Sin

admin — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 08:44:00 +0000

By Tori Amos

Universal Republic Records

It’s a sinful world out there, and Tori Amos wants to talk about a few sins not included in the Ten Commandments. Her tenth studio album, Abnormally Attracted to Sin, tackles themes of oppression, shame, intolerance, and abuse of power. It’s a record aimed at exploring ways in which governments, organizations, and people degrade each other.

Abnormally Attracted to Sin is an eclectic mix of musical styles that range from classic piano-driven ballads to electronic, jazz, and cabaret-inspired tunes. With nearly every album Amos has put out over the past decade, she seems to take a step further away from being the “piano girl.” The result with Abnormally Attracted to Sin, is that Amos has achieved a more integrated band sound and continues to explore the world of keys. In addition to her beloved Bosendorfer piano, this album features Amos on synths, Rhodes electric piano, and organ. She’s also joined by longtime collaborators Matt Chamberlain on drums and Jon Evans on bass.

The opening song for Abnormally Attracted to Sin, “Give,” sets the mood with its message of giving instead of taking. But this is no rainbow and butterflies ballad. It’s a dark, electronic-tinged track, on which Amos’ voice is at times husky and at times soaring. She sings, “There are some, some whose give, twists itself to take, they mis-take, who, what made up the line, some say it was pain, or was it shame?”

From there, this seventeen-track album spans topics of religious intolerance in “Strong Black Vine,” infidelity in “Fire to Your Plain,” and the cycle of abuse in “Ophelia.” Some of the standout tracks on Abnormally Attracted to Sin include the jazzy “Lady in Blue,” the twangy “Fast Horse,” and “Flavor,” a spacey trip where the narrator asks what it would it be like to look down on the destructive forces of man at work on Earth. The track where Amos shows her musical ability at its best is the title track. It’s a haunting song where Amos warns “pussy willow calls there by the church, ‘don’t go in if you are abnormally attracted to sin.’”

Amos continues to garner an increasing amount of criticism for producing albums like Abnormally Attracted to Sin that some deem “bloated” and “self-indulgent” for passing the seventy-minute mark. For some, it might prove a tedious listening experience, but it seems, as Amos sings in the opening track, that she’s more interested in giving abundance than taking away. What does seem to suffer, however, is the quality of writing. The record has more duds than usual for Amos. On “Welcome to England,” she writes the clunker “bang a tango but do not get tangled...if your heart explodes, is it deathly cold?” On “Police Me,” it’s hard not to laugh when Amos sings “to get off he cries ‘slutty goth’, but I’m a brightly colored person.” Amos may have hit an all-time low with “Not Dying Today,” a cacophonous, embarrassing mess.

What is most disappointing about Abnormally Attracted to Sin, though, is that it feels like Amos is pushing fewer boundaries. Her music feels safer. And, she continues to deal with the same themes she has built her career on: religion, trust in relationships, and women reclaiming themselves from the patriarchy. But one can’t fault Amos for passionately and tirelessly pursuing topics that will not be solved overnight. It’s a worthy battle and one that she does well.

Written by: Beverly Jenkins-Crockett, August 13th 2009

Jupiter

admin — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 22:53:00 +0000

By Starfucker

Badman Recording

I don't dance. At least not well. So an evening of bopping or grinding or shaking (or whatever the kids are into these days) isn't my scene. But that's no excuse to excise whole genres from my potential music library, and more electronic acts are creeping in by the day. Some of this music is too overwrought and pretentious for my taste, but from a group like Starfucker, which doesn't take themselves too seriously, the music can be gosh darn fun.

The three-man group, based in Portland, Oregon, is comprised of Josh Hodges, Ryan Bjornstad, and Shawn Glassford. Hodges' career before forming Starfucker included an album of '80s covers. That background which shows itself here in a nifty cover of "Girls Just Want to Have Fun," as well as in his songwriting on the seven other tracks, each an original composition. The first, aptly titled "Medicine," gives the listener an immediate dose of what Starfucker is all about: catchy hook, techno beats, and interesting samples. Tune out if you like and bob along without a thought, or tune in and muse about the androgynous vocals or the retro samples of a lecture expounding on the meanings of "philosophy" that weaves in and out of the music.

Techno pop is implicitly optimistic, celebrating better living through science, robots, and outer space. Even though I did not grow up on the genre, a childhood of Star Wars and video games prepped my ear to enjoy it. The synthesized music here is repetitive, like a video game's soundtrack, but never boring. The second track, "Boy Toy," could have been written and performed by a pining R2D2 or Mega Man. Again, it is instantly catchy, but more aggressively techno than the first song, utilizing a full range of beeps and whistles. The following "Dance Face 2000" continues in that direction with computerized vocals that teasingly sound almost like discernible human speech, but not quite. Track 5, "Biggie Smalls," stands out by using oriental scales behind a synthesized organ.

All of Starfucker's songs feel immediately familiar, so a song we are familiar with can hoodwink us. The sixth track brings us to the aforementioned cover of "Girls Just Want to Have Fun." A listener who hadn't studied the title list beforehand might think it was another original composition until the recognizable lyrics kick in. If we'd been lulled by the album's listenability thus far, suddenly we are paying attention. Well-known lyrics like, "Oh Daddy dear, you know you're still number one," in a male voice are refreshing to both ear and mind, coyly forcing the listener to consider the ambiguity of gender. It seems that both girls and boys like to have fun.

Like Starfucker's first album, Jupiter was recorded with Dylan Magierek. There is nothing "indie" about the flawless production. My only complaint is that the album is too short.

Written by: Charlotte Malerich, July 17th 2009

I Am the West

admin — Fri, 22 May 2009 10:10:00 +0000

By Lovers

Able Heart Records

Love is complicated. What seems to be heading in one direction can catch you off-guard and go someplace else. So too, Lovers depart from the realm of singer/songwriter and venture into the world of electro-pop. Lovers' latest album, I Am the West, opens with catchy synth rhythms coupled with the sweet, airy vocals of Carolyn Berk. And while I esteem female-fronted pop bands who embrace the risks and vulnerabilities of a minimally-produced album, I also want to hear something new. Much to my dismay, I Am the West struggles to differentiate itself from countless other electro-pop albums in circulation.

At first listen, I was distracted by persistent reminders of other bands' music. The meandering synth recalled the great indie bands of the '90s; the pure, exposed vocals ached like those of Mirah (whom she thanked on the CD insert). Don't get me wrong; I still love '90s indie-pop and can't get enough of Mirah, but where is Berk? I caught inconsistent glimpses of her unique sound, and yearned for more. "Tonight" gave me such a glimpse. The song comes together offering an entrancing, lucid and complex composition that opens with orchestral strings and the twang of a slide guitar. Berk's voice enters potent yet whimsical, as she questions a lover's whereabouts.

"I wind through alleys and empty lots, my endless arms are still reaching/But it's your heart, you do with it what you want tonight"

After "Tonight," the album slows down considerably, the songs bleeding one into the next. I waited for another developed tune like "Tonight," but it never came. While the instrumentation was consistently skilled and melodious, the lyrics teetered from charming to downright cheesy. "Confucius say I'm so confused" and "You're a jungle baby, I'm just a little panther" might be sort of funny or endearing in a different context, but ended up detracting from the songs' overall quality. Particularly disappointing were the lyrics of the euphonious acoustic ballad "Stay Another Night." The song pleads a lover to stick around, implying that self-sacrifice is an acceptable route to avoid the pain of losing a partner. Living in a culture saturated with negative stereotypes about submissive and accommodating women, that's not a message I want to hear.

Lovers' latest movement toward electro-pop with I Am the West offers a vitalizing new sound for the band, but struggles to break new ground. Still, there's something to be said for the simplicity of something familiar.

Written by: Sofia Marin, May 22nd 2009

Common Reaction

admin — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 23:30:00 +0000

By Uh Huh Her

Nettwerk Records

Long story short, I was hanging around in the student center at school where a flat screen television soundlessly flashed images of MTVu. Since I had largely stopped watching MTV more than a decade ago, I was pretty much ignoring it. That is, until I saw a grainy black and white cartoon of an obviously lovesick man trailing a raven-haired beauty down the street. Intrigued, I resolved to listen to the song at home and made note of the band's name—Uh Huh Her.

I had never heard of the group before, and Los Angeles-based Uh Huh Her is a long way off from household name status. Named after PJ Harvey's 2004 album and comprised of Camila Grey and Leisha Hailey of The L Word fame, the duo hooked up just last summer. They released their first full length album, Common Reaction, in August of this year.

Common Reaction isn’t remarkable in the sense that it radically reinterprets electropop. Like much modern electronic music, this album fuses punkish guitars and baselines with piano and strings, then overlays those instruments with synthesized buzzing and whirring. What sucked me in were the reedy yet ethereal vocals of the two women as they sang of love, lust, and righteously angry heartbreak. Uh Huh Her—who alternately channel Shirley Manson, Saffron of Republica, and various '80s rocker girls—chant deliciously ambiguous lyrics throughout. (Exactly what do they mean by “won’t you pay if you wanna go down” and “I want to hurt you easy?”) My absolute favorite tracks on Common Reaction are “Explode” (which was the song in the video I mentioned earlier) and “Dance With Me.” The sugary crooning of the plaintive lyrics and the somewhat ominous droning of the synthesizer makes “Explode” a make out song extraordinaire. This single had my fingers hovering over the “repeat” button for hours. “Dance With Me” had me wanting to do just that; the throbbing base and driving guitar are perfect for drunkenly (or maybe even soberly) boogying away. I found several other singles to be satisfying as well. “I See Red” featured an interesting juxtaposition of a jaunty, pop-rock beat and introspective lyrics about an emotionally unavailable partner. “Say So” is an upbeat rock song about the redemptive power of new love.

The lyrics on the other tracks are a bit clichéd, but so what? Not everyone can be "deep"... nor should they be. A certain number of mindlessly fun albums need to be released each year, just to keep us sane. Uh Huh Her's Common Reaction definitely fits the bill in that regard. Listen to a few of the tracks or view some of their videos on [their MySpace page](http://www.myspace.com/uhhuhhermusic" target="_blank).

Written by: Ebony Edwards-Ellis, December 1st 2008

God Has a Voice, She Speaks Through Me

admin — Mon, 04 Aug 2008 17:54:00 +0000

By CocoRosie

Touch and Go

You’ve probably noticed that Sierra and Bianca, the sisters who make up CocoRosie, are not the type to play coy when it comes to performing. Not only do their provocatively bright outfits and adventuresome vocals call attention to this fact, but the duo unapologetically evokes the name of the big "man" upstairs in the title of their latest single. And for the record, G-O-D is an S-H-E.

Known to many as folk musicians, the single God Has a Voice, She Speaks Through Me distances CocoRosie from comparisons to Joan Baez and Joni Mitchell. With well-timed synths and programmed beats, they have managed to move away from the muted whimsicality of their previous work into an energetically hip-hop inflected sound.

Despite their attempts to prove otherwise, the sisters are far from capricious. Lyrically, CocoRosie fails to add much depth to the ambitiously titled track, and somewhere after the second verse, the looped drumbeats and xylophone notes fall flat. With pop-a-licious drums and operatic vocals, CocoRosie is tapping into a formula that will undoubtedly force hipsters to move their feet to the beat, but a song with such an enthralling title needs to be more than just a whimsical dance number. Sure, God Has a Voice has a catchy hook, but it doesn't graduate beyond that.

I expected these dapper dames to turn the musical world on its head - not merely by pushing a feminist agenda, but through the creation of innovative music. In a world where the term feminism is shunned in popular culture, it is refreshing to find a couple of talented women unafraid to proclaim that God is a woman. However, when you manage to lose the poetry in subversity, are you really speaking out through your art? Or is it all a well-planned marketing ploy?

Written by: Lizzy Shramko, August 4th 2008