Repo

admin — Fri, 08 May 2009 10:51:00 +0000

re-po (noun, informal): a car or other item that has been repossessed

Is Repo a recession nod from the experimental art rock Brooklyn trio, who perhaps knew something we didn’t when they named their album? I don’t suppose it matters because the similarities are striking regardless of intent. The record exists to impress people who don’t know you very well, which is all anyone does in these days of job hunting and resume fine-tuning. The twisted crunches and esoteric groans of Repo make it rather uncomfortable listening, but then, you may have uncomfortable people around you. Brilliance is often uneasy, and crisis yields those silver linings. I’m not sure if avant-garde noise will soothe unemployment worries, but it might at least make your brain temporarily shut down.

At an impressive seven minutes, “La Cucaracha” might almost get you dancing. Almost. I’m similarly impressed with “Lazy TV,” mostly because of the mental images its winding sonics provide. On the other hand, when it comes to the album’s interludes, one could be named “Latent Headache,” and I wouldn’t know the difference.

For its title alone, “Ultra Vomit Craze” is my favorite, fondly reminding me of parties I have attended or hosted in the past two years that have devolved into puke-related story time. To achieve the best results, think about your worst experience with vomit—public place, embarrassing witness, color, consistency—and recount in vivid detail. Watch your party turn into an exercise in horrific storytelling, empathy, and riotous laughter. Throwing on incomprehensible, nausea-inducing music a la Black Dice in the background could really take things to the next level. Sound juvenile? I guess you’ll have to find your own way to lighten the somber economic mood then.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, May 8th 2009

Tickley Feather

admin — Tue, 25 Mar 2008 15:07:00 +0000

By Tickley Feather

Paw Tracks

Do you wish Animal Collective had a female member? We’re not there yet, but since Tickley Feather (nee Annie Sachs) has been opening for the band and their sometimes solo, acclaimed drummer Panda Bear recently, we may be closer to collaboration that anyone realizes.

I’ll be the first to admit that noise rock can seem insanely unlistenable if you’re used to the uncomplicated ditties mainstream radio often provides, but with a woman like Sachs, you get a lot of substance. Her first release, out on Paw Tracks (the label run by the aforementioned Collective), emphasizes her four-track love and whispery, strange vocals that can be soothing or awkward, depending on your mood. The Philadelphia-based musician has already garnered quite a bit of praise from the indie crowd, happy for a new heroine with airy vocals and minimalist instrumental tendencies. Following up collaborations on several split EPs, one critic noted that on her new album, she “sounds like she’s singing in the shower,” due to her low production quality, but again, this is endearing.

Tickley Feather does experimental folk justice, and we can use a few more ladies laying down these kind of spacey, woodsy tracks. And while you don’t need one, another reason to love her debut album: interludes between songs of a baby (hers—shout out to a single mom!) saying completely random phrases.

My best suggestion is sampling a sound like Tickley Feather’s in concert. If you enjoy the atmosphere, the people, and loopy performance style, you’ll love her album work. If not, stick to less incomprehensible freak folk or just avoid it altogether.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, March 25th 2008