dissonant

The Woody Nightshade

mandy — Tue, 18 Jan 2011 20:00:00 +0000

Positive reviews litter the internet for Sharron Kraus’ earlier records and got me excited for her new release, The Woody Nightshade. However, the rave reviews made my disappointment with the album all the more palpable.

It took at least three listens on a really good stereo to really be able to appreciate The Woody Nightshade. To make it easy for you, if English folk music that leans on Celtic influences is what you’re into, this might be just the album for you. That said, if you’re looking for something that is instantly catchy with a firm melody or clean harmonies, then you might want to pick up something else.

The lilting dissonant vocals and random strumming that make the songs on The Woody Nightshade blend together into a cohesive work aren't intended to be experimental as much as a contemporary approach to traditional music. Kraus’ voice reminds me of recordings my sixth grade teacher played in class while we were studying the Medieval period. Her voice is simultaneously clear and indecipherable.

While it’s easy to get lost in the web of stringed instruments and to forget that there are words being sung, there’s a lingering melancholy that bubbles just under the simplistic surface of the entire album. Songs like “Evergreen Sisters” are decidedly haunting and the title track is no different; “The Woody Nightshade” is an eerie tune accompanied by vocals so slow and wandering that the lyrics are nearly lost. For Kraus, though, the form closely follows function. The listener doesn’t need to hear the line about the man she watches as “he looks away” to feel that’s what just happened. Her distant voice deftly conveys emotion.

The fifth song on the album, “Once,” is easier to get into for a first-time Kraus listener like myself. She sings simple lines we’ve all heard and thought, but with a relatable, quiet sadness: “Once there was a love, and that came to an end... Once each other’s touch was the thing we lived for.”

The Woody Nightshade is for careful listeners who are looking for sad songs to get lost in.

Written by: Tatiana Ryckman, January 18th 2011

Fleurs

admin — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 09:00:00 +0000

By Former Ghosts

Upset! The Rhythm

It was recently revealed that music was used as a torture device against detainees at government prisons, including Guantanamo Bay and Bagram, Afghanistan. Certain artists were sources of tremendous pain for the political prisoners (Nine Inch Nails, Barney the Dinosaur, Christina Aguilera) while others had little to no effect (Michael Jackson). While an admittedly heinous use for someone's creative output, it got me thinking about tastes and sensitivities based on who is exposed to what at what point in their lives. For example, the soundtrack to my youth included bands like Hole, Babes in Toyland, L7, and Bikini Kill. This is music that I still regularly listen to today. I consider it an integral part of myself. My father, on the other hand, considered it excruciating even coming into my teenage bedroom once when I was listening to Hole's “Beautiful Son” single to ask, “What IS that? Good God, do you have the cat in here or something?!”

The point? One person's agonizing pain is another's exquisite pleasure. One person's caterwauling cacophony is another's sweet symphony. So it was, in part, thanks to my predisposition to dissonance in music that I found myself keenly interested in Fleurs from indie-noise conglomerate Former Ghosts. They're kind of an underground supergroup trio, featuring Jamie Stewart of Xiu Xiu, Nika Roza from Zola Jesus, and Freddy Ruppert formerly with This Song Is a Mess But So Am I.

Familiar with the sweet glitchy pop sounds of The Postal Service? Their 2003 album Give Up has quickly become a contemporary classic. Imagine that as being the top exposed half of a rock buried halfway in the ground. Flip it over and underneath you are sure to find Fleurs by Former Ghosts. It's the darker underbelly of glitchy pop love songs. Unfortunately, it is also a flipside that some might say is better left buried.

I could not for the life of me tell you which songs from Fleurs are my favorite; it all starts to sound the same after the fourth track. I can tell you which songs annoyed the daylights out of me, though. First, there's the opening track, “Us And Now.” It's got a three-beat rhythm, off tempo with the pervasive rhythm (from which the listener is given a respite for only about 40 seconds) that courses throughout the song, making it seem much longer than it really is. There are also the prosaic details of “Mother,” a song about feeling cast adrift, without a home, in a sea of other people's lives.

There's a scene in the 1998 film The Wedding Singer where love-struck Robbie Hart (Adam Sandler) is about to board an airplane headed to Las Vegas. Before racing off to catch his flight, the agent at the ticket sales counter, sporting an awe-inspiring '80s hairdo, asks Hart, “Hey, do you like A Flock of Seagulls?” Hart quickly responds, “I can see YOU do,” while staring at the guy's sculpted hair tribute. That's kinda how I felt while listening to the three different voices that comprise Former Ghosts singing the twelve different tracks that comprise Fleurs. They all sounded pretty much... the same. These guys wear their influences—namely Joy Division's Ian Curtis—on their sleeves. It's like listening to a Joy Division tribute band at times. The crushing sounds of Michael Gira and his nihilistic '80s industrial group The Swans also seem to be haunting Former Ghosts.

Written by: M. Brianna Stallings, February 1st 2010

Hope Freaks

admin — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 00:59:00 +0000

By Pre

Skin Graft Records

I realize I spend many of my reviews describing what bands sound like, but hear me out. I frequently haven’t heard the bands I’m reviewing before, and I kind of figure most people reading Elevate Difference probably haven’t either (many times to their detriment, may I add). So anyway, on to my review why Pre are another one of those acts I think people should pay attention to, even if they aren’t into noise rock.

Pre, like Finnish salty licorice and IPA beers, is indeed an acquired taste. Pre is a noise band in the vein of bands like Aids Wolf and Melt Banana. Like those other bands, Pre doesn’t take much time to ponder or dwell in any single place (although there is a rather long repetitive moment in “Not Necessary” that is pretty much a noise version of the intermission music in Monty Python and the Holy Grail).

There is no need to feel introspective or lift a cigarette lighter during the long guitar solo. This is music dedicated to fast satisfaction; it is the fizz and the caffeine of a thirty-two ounce energy drink. In fact, Hope Freaks propelled me on my last run far and beyond my typical three miles, and into the outer limits of an eight-mile excursion that I thought was really only possible by statuesque people who wear those hydration fanny-packs. (Of course, I am now nursing shin splints, which I fully blame Pre for.)

Despite all of the speed and dissonance, however, Hope Freaks still feels more listenable than some of their other noise-band peers. Amid the mishmash of squealing guitar and effects pedals, there is some semblance of a more “typical” verse-chorus-verse structure, and just a bit of the catchiness that bands like Wolf Eyes thumb their noses at.

Mixing noise with catchy is a delicate business, as is making noise listenable beyond the middle of a late-night live show (where, of course, it is best appreciated). Pre isn’t exactly the kind of music I would bring with me on a road trip with my mother, but it is perfect for a listen after a rough day at work when all you want to do is beat the snot out of a pillow like you used to do when you were fourteen. Also, weirdly, it sounds a little like music that would be perfect for cartoons. Maybe this is because I can’t help but think of Melt Banana, wrote the theme song to the Adult Swim cartoon Perfect Hair Forever (titled “Hair-Cat,” in case you were interested), when I listen to Pre.

So maybe they’re a little Melt Banana—but they’re also a little Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Pre managed, after all, to do something that not many noise acts are capable of: they’re stuck in my head, even as I sit on the couch and ice my shin splints. Maybe next week I should be listening to Joanna Newsom as I run. Sigh.

Written by: Emily S. Dunster, December 3rd 2009