dance punk

This Is Happening

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

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

Trapped Animal

admin — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 08:36:00 +0000

By The Slits

Narnack

If you're expecting to hear the frenzied, skittish, punk sounds of The Slits' 1979 album Cut, prepare to be disappointed, perplexed, upset, or some combination thereof. Original Slits members Ari Up and Tessa Pollitt reunited and brought on board the talents of Hollie Cook, Anna Schlute, and Adele Wilson in recording Trapped Animal. The first full-length album in a quarter century, this album departs so far from The Slits' signature sound that it's surprising they've kept the name. This is not The Slits as you know them.

In this departure, The Slits have replaced an unpredictable punk aesthetic with faded rhythms that emerge from Jamaican and world music influences. Heavy bass lines, horns, and dub-y echoes characterize most songs. Unfortunately, The Slits fail to differentiate themselves from any other mediocre reggae band. I wondered if the inclusion of "Babylon" was meant to be facetious. There must be hundreds of similarly titled songs, and The Slits' version certainly offers nothing new. Particularly disappointing was the cliched use of a vocoder in "Lazy Slam," which recalls the sound of a mainstream pop song rather than anything remotely punk or reggae.

But not all is lost. The Slits come through with "Reject" and "Trapped Animal," in which The Slits take what they used to do best and build upon it. "Reject" is a stripped down punk song interrupted with fragmented staccatos, falsetto vocals, and gypsy breakdowns. Adorned with the album's name, "Trapped Animal" is fast and unpredictable, chaotic and liberating, and ironically, the most divergent song of the bunch. Quivering vocals and bouncing melodies clash with relentless, uninhibited screams to produce an exhilarating and well-crafted jam. Both songs infect with raw Slits energy, and if Trapped Animal has a saving grace, these songs are it.

While perhaps not groundbreaking, but to their credit, The Slits preserve their unique lyrical style of the provocative questioning of accepted social norms. Songs like "Ask Ma" and "Pay Rent" fuse reggae flow with catchy, though sometimes corny, synthesizer grooves, and in "Pay Rent," the result is a dance anthem. The song urges you on your feet and sends a somewhat unconventional yet uplifting message: "We wanna pay rent with our passion." "Ask Ma" questions gender roles and attacks conventional male treatment of women: "Men who need us to be their mother, or hate us cuz of their mother!" But the song takes a step further in offering a remedy for the problem: "So it's up to us to break the cycle, rearrange, and look at how we can bring up our boys to be more loving."

While I applaud The Slits for exploring a new genre and sound, _Trapped Animal _lacks cohesion and personality.

Written by: Sofia Marin, October 20th 2009

Lower Bounds

admin — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 10:20:00 +0000

By Only Thunder

Bermuda Mohawk

The band Only Thunder consists of a lot of rumble and electricity. Generalized stylistic terms like “post-punk,” “mall punk,” and “emo-punk” get thrown around a lot and can often be harmful to an album if applied. Though, I must say, all of those labels can apply to the sounds of Only Thunder and have probably been applied to them in the past. But don’t let that discourage you from giving the band a listen. It’s evident from listening to their tunes that Only Thunder is greatly influenced by the likes of Hot Water Music and Black Flag. However, unlike many other followers of these punk staples, Only Thunder actually does some justice to their predecessors.

Lower Bounds sounds strangely self-assured for a debut album. Their stylistic aim is clear from the opening song, "Tapestries, Candles, Zima," and is executed by their hardcore guitar riffs and doubled drums throughout. It’s a classic punk equation with simple repeated chords and varied rhythm. The drums are dry and fast. It’s not too polished, but approachable enough for all types of music fans. Layered vocals round out their sound and could arguably be the weakest part of their music.

Their broken heart blues are nothing new and Only Thunder doesn’t give it a different spin either. Despite that, one can appreciate that the words aren’t delivered in a nasally self-entitled whine or a meek whimper. Rather, the lyrics are presented in a strong, solid and, most appropriately, loud way that makes you feel apart of the music‘s emotions.

All in all, Only Thunder is the kind of music that makes me imagine a band that might play in the basement of a rundown bowling alley in Cleveland. The ceiling is water-stained, the stage is small, and the air is thick with smoke. The dance floor is full of dudes sweating, pushing, jumping and not missing one word. And if you remember closely, you can even see a few chicks getting into the storm as well.

Written by: Sara Custer, April 26th 2009

Mama, I’m Swollen

admin — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 23:58:00 +0000

By Cursive

Saddle Creek

Midlife crisis: the record. Mama, I'm Swollen is Cursive’s first record without their original drummer. Clint Schnase offers a window into a world of loss and longing: longing for youth, answers, and mommies. In our new world of hope, Cursive creates a microcosm of desolation where women are a nuisance and hindrance to a man’s freedom, yet simultaneously bring them their only comfort in this dark, cold place.

On "Donkeys"—the band’s shout out to Pinocchio—the band’s singer and front man, Tim Kasher, wails:

I'm going to Pleasure Island
I ain't comin' back home
Mama's thumpin' her Bible
She swears we're going to hell
And papa's just jealous
He wants to come here as well
We may be donkeys
But at least we have a tale to tell

Let me get this straight. So a man running out on his partner and their child is unattainable happiness? Succumbing to the evils of the universe is preferable to supporting your family? Debatable at best! To be fair, these lyrics could just as easily be interpreted as an old man longing for his youth, the period of time when he had the option of making horrible mistakes. But "Mama and her given role of religious sour matron" seems a relatively dour vision; it may have been overlooked if the next track "Cavemen" didn’t go on to say "I'm no happy family man/I'm no husband ain't no dad/I'm a goddamn caveman." Obviously someone is having family entrapment issues.

Caveman also highlights the thread of these irrepressible animal instincts, instincts that drive an individual away from modern conventions like career building and family and towards reckless spontaneous action. Somehow it is unnatural to pursue anything further than "swinging in the trees." It's safe to say that we should avoid fantasizing about the return of a time stereotyped by female caricatures that are clubbed into submission.

On the flip side, we have not one but two tracks in which the singer seems to be speaking directly to a mother figure. In "Mama, I’m Satan," Kasher sings:

My fathers and brothers
Raped your sisters and mothers
We are the sons of butchers
All in all we're pawns
The darkness of mankind stirs in us all

While the comfort of a mother’s arms are the only possible solace for this man, it is women who are raped. Here is this man whining for not one but two songs—one-fifth of the album—to his mother.

Obviously, the band is coming to terms with lost love, aging, and a great period of questioning. For better or worse, Cursive has really come to no conclusions. Exposing a lot of darkness in the world with a hint of remorse for hope, Mama, I'm Swollen takes you deep into the mind of the middle-aged man. You might not like what you hear.

Written by: Nicole Levitz, April 11th 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