electro-pop

Manners

admin — Sat, 10 Jul 2010 00:00:00 +0000

To get the most out of Passion Pit’s debut album, you will need: a healthy appetite for sugary keyboard riffs, plenty of enthusiasm for falsetto vocals, and a large space in which to dance around like crazy. Having gathered these things, you can dive straight into Manners and experience all the colours promised by the album’s cover art. This is music that isn’t afraid of a bit of fluoro.

But once you’ve danced around the room a few times and flopped down on the couch, you might start to notice that there’s darkness in Passion Pit’s world as well. In between those insistent beats and sparkling keyboards, composer Michael Angelokos is asking questions like, "Is this the way my life has got to be?" and "Why do I always need to need you when you’re fleeting?," or simply requesting that we leave him alone.

Angelokos launched Passion Pit three years ago as "a humble one-man multi-track laptop project" from his college dorm room. Since then, he has managed to create Manners and gather a band to perform the album live. Passion Pit even had a hit on the Billboard Heatseekers chart with "Sleepyhead," which made it to number nine.

Passion Pit’s website describes Manners as "baroque and intricate in its construction," which sums up both its appeal and its main stumbling block. There’s enough going on here to sustain multiple listens, but perhaps too much for us to ever really get a grip on the emotion behind the material. Angelokos is in there somewhere, but more often than not, he’s obscured by the blinding brightness of his music.

If the emotion on Manners is hard to make out, its take on gender is all but buried. While Angelokos is generally singing to or about a "you," the identity of this person—like much of the album’s lyrical content—remains a complete mystery.

It’s only as the album winds down that we finally get a glimpse of the Angelokos behind the beats and sparkles. The acoustic versions of "Sleepyhead" and "Moth’s Wings" reveal a thoughtful, reflective man with a sweet, soaring voice, while the final track, a cover of The Cranberries’ "Dreams," suggests either a love of early nineties pop or a wicked sense of humour. All this points to one conclusion: we need to hear more from Passion Pit.

Written by: Alice Allan, July 9th 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

Le Tigre: On Tour

admin — Thu, 17 Jun 2010 19:00:00 +0000

Directed by Kerthy Fix

“What’s the status of Le Tigre?” an eager—albeit slightly angst-ridden—fan asks Kathleen Hanna during the Q&A session after the screening of Le Tigre: On Tour. I, too, had been wondering the same question—because this band, who has proven so formative to women young and old everywhere, seems to exist only in our collective lesbo-feminist consciousness at the moment. For myself, in particular, I was introduced to Le Tigre’s music a year before they performed their final show in NYC, on 18 September 2005, so I never had the opportunity to witness their awesomeness in concert. Their existence to me, in other words, was always to me like a memory, an extant pastness that is real but not actual in that particular moment. I think their existence, for me, is kind of like how people understand Jesus or Santa Claus: he’s touched their hearts, and therefore he’s real… at least they think he’s real, but they’ve never actually seen him.

Which is why this documentary is so utterly amazing: the film, comprised of compiled concert and backstage footage from their final tour for the album This Island in 2004, and including more recent interviews with the trio—Johanna Fateman and JD Samson, in addition to Kathleen Hanna—is essential to the band’s continued existence in our collective lesbo-feminist consciousness. Seeing footage of live performances made me dance in my seat, and it brought tears to my eyes, particularly during the scene in which Hanna turns to Samson and gives her an acknowledging look—the “this is it” moment—of it being the last performance (“Deceptacon”) of their final show.

Director Kerthy Fix did a brilliant job creating this documentary in a way that proves attractive to all audiences: her attention to the trio of characters, and their feminist, queer ethics that embody the desire that each person be her “own lost hero,” as Hanna professes, speaks to everyone who wants to cultivate themselves as strong, powerful, and unique individuals. The documentary-as-archive is so crucial not only to preserving the band’s music, but also Le Tigre as a seminal part of the riot grrl movement, which has been built by the enterprising musical endeavors of the band collectively and separately, as each has her own individual pursuits.

Here we can think, of course, of Kathleen Hanna’s previous band, Bikini Kill, as the foundational component of this movement. And, as we Bikini Kill fans know so well, there is a scarcity of Bikini Kill footage out there—they existed before the explosion of the Interwebs, of the social media sites and blogs—so having this documentary is a welcomed addition to the steadily growing archive of the feminist and riot grrl movements.

Kudos to Fix for providing feminists young and old with this filmic insight into the iconic band—from Hanna’s deadpan explication of dressing room snack items (i.e., a bowl of fruit fit for the pope) to Fateman’s detailed vitamin regimen and Samson’s coming to terms with her Casanova status—and their raw lyrics and hot dance moves (“West Side Story meets Jazzercise,” to be precise).

Le Tigre: On Tour does not yet have a distributor; indeed, it’s still in the processing stages, pre-color correx and sound fix. Hopefully, by the end of the year, this film will be picked up and shown in theatres across the world for all the Le Tigre fans who, like me, long to connect with the band that filled their hearts and heads with sweetness and light.

Written by: Marcie Bianco, June 17th 2010

Galaxia Tropicalia

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

By Blasfemea

La Lisbonera

Blasfemea’s Galaxia Tropicalia is a psychedelic electro-pop album that, while not made by women, is decidedly about and possibly for them. This Lisbon-based quartet of adorable, dark-haired boys makes music that, at least in theory, pays homage to women. This sort of sweeping statement is problematic, because really, when has “woman” ever been a universal label? You can easily argue that what’s between your legs doesn’t mean much anymore.

Nevertheless, all of the songs on Galaxia Tropicalia have stereotypically female names: Catherine, Lindsay, and Kami, for example. On opening track and single “Maria,” the fellas sing about hot chocolate and doodling a crush’s name. “Ida” showcases the band’s afropop influences and features British tropical music rock band Dead Kids.

Blasfemea—BLSFM for short—isn’t afraid of experimenting with various Latin sounds. That said, their sound moves from fairly straightforward pop to manic, slightly confusing afrobeat and hard rock. On one short album, it’s more confusing than interesting. Even though the band relies on Latin influences and hails from Portugal, the entire album is in English.

Their cover of Michael Jackson’s “Dirty Diana”—simply called “Diana” this time—is a tough sell. I love a cover song, but this remake doesn’t work for two reasons. It’s not only too soon to be sampling a King of Pop track; this cover is remarkably bad. The original is a gem and thus difficult to reproduce. I couldn’t even finish this version. Stick with BLSFM originals.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, April 6th 2010

The Theory of Tides

admin — Sun, 14 Mar 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By The Theory of Tides

Oceans and tides have served as artistic muses for centuries, and I was curious to listen to music inspired by a scientific theory that explains "the dynamics of fluidity, the pull of bodies in motion, the ebb and flow of attraction." Upon first and second listen, The Theory of Tides didn’t grab me, but the third time around was a charm, and I found myself appreciating the music more.

Lead singer Mirana has the kind of voice that can sound almost dissonant at times, but it suits The Theory of Tides' style of music, which has the feel of urban techno pop. The first track, “Unsure,” is probably my favorite lyrically, as I find the words repeating in my head hours later. In the chorus of the song Mirana asks, “When did I become so unsure, of you, of me, of everything?” The question is posed against a backdrop of pulsating electronic sound. Another favorite track is “Corner” because of its sophisticated, jazzy, Latin quality that serves Mirana’s voice well.

On “Elated,” the vocals have a sultry, chanteuse-like quality that wouldn’t be out of place in a French cabaret, but the electro-pop background is straight out of the twenty-first century. This may not be my favorite album, but I play it on days when I feel slightly out of sorts and disconnected from my surroundings. It's music that matches my mood.

Written by: Gita Tewari, March 14th 2010

Hung Like A Horse

admin — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 01:00:00 +0000

By All Leather

Dim Mak Records

Members of The Locust and Some Girls make up the edgy electro-punk industrial outfit All Leather, mixing angelic screeching over electro beats and spastic hardcore pummeling, which are all packed tight into ten glorious minutes of the Hung Like a Horse EP. All Leather consists of guitarist Nathan Joyner, Jung Sing on drums, and Justin Pearson doing vocals. They collectively rail against all that is decent with dirty synths and lyrics to match. Indulging in their playful hedonism, Hung Like a Horse isn’t as much decadent as it is audibly interesting. There is a pounding undercurrent that consents to headbanging while allowing itself to delightfully canoodle with the bouncy elements of electro-dance.

Colorful song titles will relay the story before even hitting play. The music itself almost garners more cred by combining earnest raw energy with their unfettered sense of humor. “As The Hog Pisseth” opens the record with a sledgehammer of metronome beats dripping in “Miller-Lite fantasies,” as the amusing lyrics suggest. Next up, “We’re Skrewed.” Pearson punches the lyrics hard enough to match the intensity of Sing’s beats. Drums and lyrics work in tandem throughout like a diabolic tag team as Pearson belts, “Civilization… vs none.” The kinetic “I Don’t Hate Fags, God Does” has you dancing in place amongst the hippest of hipsters, while gleefully throwing elbows left and right, reveling in the thrash curveball thrown. “Audios mi Amoebas” works the industrial magic with pulsating white noise. The aggressive fusion builds and accelerates until the very last note.

Post-punk bliss, albeit thrashy and brash, Hung Like a Horse works on many levels. It delivers the goods if you appreciate heavy spastic rock made interesting and fun, thanks to spirited electronic dance grooves. The EP gets to the point pretty quick, clamps down hard, and draws a little blood between minutes six and seven. They know how to replace the pop with the sludge all while staying true to the raucous energy that defines it.

Written by: Cat Veit, December 8th 2009

Musicfest Northwest (9/19/2009)

admin — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 14:53:00 +0000

Rotture

Portland, Oregon

If you ever hear anyone doubt that women can rock you should tell them to shut up and listen to Team Dresch. One of the most influential bands from the mid-90s riot grrrl and queercore movements, Team Dresch released their first album Personal Best in 1995, stopped playing in 1998, reunited in 2004, and have only played a handful of shows since. So I knew this show in their hometown of Portland, OR was going to be a good one!

Every year The Willamette Week, a local free weekly in Portland, hosts a music festival called Music Fest Northwest (MFNW), and the Team Dresch show was one of the many that happened over five days in various venues across the city. While the spreading out of shows across the town means that one has to really pick and choose what bands they want to see. Some venues are 21+ and some, once they reach capacity, will not let you in even if you have bought the $60 wristband, so it’s not worth leaving one venue you have already made it inside. Big festivals attract bigger names, and since it doesn’t just happen at one big expensive club, getting there early is the only way to ensure you get in.

While big acts are the draw for any music festival (this year featured Modest Mouse, Black Francis, Bad Brains, Girl Talk, and the Get Up Kids), MFNW draws from the rich Portland music scene, of course, with Team Dresch one of the many Portland-based acts. Although I missed the opening band, I arrived during the set of another local band called Lovers. I had not seen them live before and had only heard about them recently, as they just released their fourth album, I Am the West, in April. I was captivated by the melancholy electro-pop and emotive vocals, and it's unfortunate that I only got to hear a few songs. They are definitely a band I am going to check out again.

Next up was Erase Errata, a notorious experimental No Wave band from San Francsico. If Team Dresch weren’t playing and Erase Errata headlined, this show would have been large enough, so the addition of the elusive queercore superstars made the packed, relatively small venue teem with energy. (I also love attending rock shows where women outnumber boys five to one. It is such a great feeling!) Erase Errata riled up the crowd with their political, half-improvised, dance-tastic songs, and by the time Team Dresch hit the stage everyone was significantly buzzed. I was not in the mosh pit, which I kind of regret, but standing back and watching the amazing musicianship and show(wo)manship of Team Dresch was as electrifying and inspiring as when I first heard Personal Best all those years ago. (Had I seen them live then I would have been more likely to stage dive and slam my-sweaty-self against the stage!)

They rocked like the best rock stars; they played their instruments better than most boys I know; and they reminded me how important music, especially female-driven punk rock music, is to feminism. (Okay, I am biased, but there is really something about women expressing anger, playing loud music, and just generally kicking ass in areas they are brought up thinking they can’t that makes me really happy.) But the most inspiring thing of all is that this band that seemed to have reached its peak over ten years ago is still going strong today.

Written by: Jyoti Roy, September 28th 2009

Barking Up The Wrong Tree

admin — Sun, 12 Jul 2009 09:46:00 +0000

By Camille Jones

Tommy Boy

You either love European electronica or you hate it. Growing up in a very Mid-American rave scene, I like to believe I’ve moved beyond partying in vacant co-opted strip malls and refined my tastes in all things club music. Camille Jones is a Danish pop singer and producer, but thankfully for her international audience, she sings her breathy tracks in English. Best known for her 2004 single “The Creeps,” Jones’ new release, Barking Up The Wrong Tree is an excellent example of what modern Euro electropop can be.

Maybe your definition of club is not mine. Just because I used to wear those embarrassing homemade bead bracelets doesn’t mean I haven’t grown up, nor does it mean I adopted tube top club culture. I don’t need to get all sweaty and writhe around on the dance floor, deafened by amps pumping DJ music. I’m perfectly content for the “club” to consist of uncomfortable couches, Moroccan-themed appetizers, overpriced unpronounceable drinks, and a tiny corner for the turntables. From the unobtrusive speakers, I expect to hear mellow, uncomplicated jams like Jones’.

“Difficult Guys” immediately became my repeat-one song of the week—press play, let it cycle through again and again. In addition to the booty-shakin’ beat, I kept wondering about her reference to liking “difficult guys, ordinary girls know they shouldn’t fall for.” Is Jones yet another single straight gal trying to hook up with her gay male pals? “They don’t like girls/I’m barking up the wrong tree.” I once kissed my gay best friend before he came out. Luckily, I learned that lesson young.

Jones’ songs are not overtly feminist, but they’re a pleasurable enough listen and make a solid addition to a soundtrack of understated female dance pop. “I Am (What You Want Me To Be)” is either a nod to conformity—in Danish, there’s a concept called janteloven that might be appropriate to employ here—or a big ironic middle finger to anyone with expectations. I suspect the former, but I retain high hopes for discovering rebel Danes.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, July 12th 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

Part I: John Shade, Your Fortune’s Made

admin — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 22:52:00 +0000

By Fol Chen

Asthmatic Kitty

Fol Chen could be one of those bands in which every member writes his or her own tracks and then, sheet music assembled in a stack, the group comes together to record without any concern for cohesion. This can result in an annoyingly disjointed album, or an inspiring mix of treasures. For this debut release, it’s a bit of both. With unidentifiable samples and influences from seemingly every corner of the globe, it’s difficult to get more specific than calling the band’s overall sound “electro-pop.”

As most other reviews of this album will explain, “Cable TV” is the catchy track that makes the rest of Part I: John Shade, Your Fortune’s Made feel sort of empty. Did you ever think that free cable at a hotel was a big deal when you were a kid? Did you ever have a teenage birthday party at the local Holiday Inn so you and your friends could all swim? Do you enjoy the occasional adult rendezvous weekend that includes Pay-Per-View and a nameless king size bed? Then this is the song for you.

The other standout, “You and Your Sister in Jericho,” is a slower, angst-infused ballad about youthful hair-dying, pot-smoking experimentation that devolves into a lyric-less, horn-infested plod by the end of its six minutes. “The Believers” seems to be about brainwashed religious zealots, complete with its repeated chorus of “Don’t follow me.” “No Wedding Cake” insists, “I could never break your heart again,” which is a comforting sentiment, considering lifelong commitment is hopefully based on a mutual desire to share vulnerable love.

Stick with the singles and wait for the follow up. These folks have tons of promise and already produced a few gems. Still, I believe there is a more consistent, fully formed album in Fol Chen’s future.

Written by: Brittany Shoot, March 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

Bjork (9/17/2007)

admin — Mon, 01 Oct 2007 11:02:00 +0000

Fox Theatre

Atlanta, Georgia

There’s no denying that after all of these years Bjork’s fans still think she’s the hottest thing since sliced bread. I attended her live performance at The Fox Theatre last night, and I left with the overwhelming feeling that despite chatter about the music industry going down the toilet, there are still certain performers who are impacting their audience and deeply defying the present state of things. Surprisingly enough, the crowd ranged from indie hipsters to parents with young children; everybody standing the entire time and dancing in unison.

In expected Bjork fashion, the show was a visual smorgasbord, complete with oversized banners of woodland creatures, flat-screen TVs visualizing the electronic antics taking place on stage, flames and lasers, confetti falling from the rafters and Bjork in a flowing pink and white dress. An entirely female children’s choir on risers to the right proved to be one of the most entertaining aspects of the live performance, outside of Bjork herself. These girls were talented beyond their years, morphing from role to role: an angelic choir, a full-fledged brass section and a stationary dance troupe.

All visuals aside, Bjork’s voice is sumptuous and solid, and she seems like she’s having the time of her life performing, which is probably why there wasn’t an empty seat in the house. Her beat-heavy, slightly dissonant style remains artfully unique, setting her apart from most of the cookie-cutter bands infiltrating the music scene today.

Written by: Claire Ashton, October 1st 2007

One Hand Loves the Other

admin — Wed, 05 Sep 2007 01:43:00 +0000

By One Hand Loves the Other

Stickfigure Productions

I admit I have a soft spot for local music, and One Hand Loves the Other hails from my local music scene in Atlanta, where the group’s name is a familiar sight on posters for local venues. The classically infused electro-pop band’s first full-length album is marked by extraordinary vocals, creative electronic stylings and classical instruments like the cello. On first listen, I wasn’t sure whether I should get up and dance or sit back and close my eyes. I settled on a combination of the two, letting the rhythmic percussion of “Burden of Barnacles” get me on my feet, then allowing the piano-driven “Petey Penance” to chill me out. The classical tones eased my usual aversion to electronica, creating a new way to hear the full-bodied music. Attributing perhaps to the diversity of the band members’ backgrounds, this album took my unsophisticated musical taste to a new height of appreciation for collaboration among styles, sounds and people.

Written by: Jaclyn Barbarow, September 4th 2007

Modern Love and Death

admin — Mon, 03 Sep 2007 03:20:00 +0000

By Hail Social

Polyvinyl Records

Philadelphia-based Hail Social has tried, yet again, to capitalize on the dance-rock craze that has made bands like Hot Chip and Franz Ferdinand pop stars and indie rock heroes. Unfortunately, the band’s attempts at hot beats fizzle before they fail to heat up, and Modern Love and Death is a painful trip back to the 1980s.

Beginning with first track “Annabelle,” there’s a Bee Gees sensibility where the ‘70s disco and the singer’s (Dayve Hawke) falsetto seem like it might be impressive. The song is about Annabelle, the bad girl in town who stirs up trouble: “You will never know all the trouble you caused/After you the neighborhood drew up a book of laws.” He’s in love with the girl, and the song comes off cheeky and sentimental — the best of the album, which means it can only go downhill from there.

From track 2 (“Heaven”) on, it’s a bizarre mix of Hall and Oates synth rhythms and lyrics that don’t exactly convey one singular thought throughout. But on tracks like “Heaven,” some self-righteousness slips out: “I’ll bet every night I’m on your mind.”

The cheese factor really kicks in on “All Night,” when Hawk croons: “All night we can listen to the radio!” Even the lyrics are a throwback to a long time ago, when the singer was most likely a kid without an iPod, which is why the album’s title track seems so bizarre in following.

“I am a modern man and I need a modern girl who will understand,” goes “Modern Love and Death.” But if he’s anything like the songs he writes, it will certainly be a challenge to pin down if Hawk has any originality or anything contemporary about him. It’s an ironic title for a song and album that is a rehashing of the 1980s in a way more akin to Olivia Newton John than The Cure.

Written by: Trish Bendix, September 2nd 2007

Peace is Burning Like a River

admin — Mon, 09 Jul 2007 23:06:00 +0000

By Bitter Bitter Weeks

High Two

Bitter Bitter Weeks’ third album has a sound that reminds me a bit of Death Cab for Cutie and Postal Service—with eclectic lyrics and a chill beat throughout the album. I put the album to the test during rush hour on the Washington, DC metrobus. Despite being stuck due to a car pileup and missing my connector, I arrived at my office relatively calm, a task only classical music or Céline Dion could do, but with a much cooler edge.

Peace is Burning like a River is sure to gain a huge audience throughout the indie genre, with an artistic blend of vocals, guitars, percussion and even an organ. Brian McTear, the founder of Bitter Bitter Weeks (originally a solo performer) has unique vocals that blend perfectly with the music. The songs move seamlessly together through a shared beat, giving the album a put-together feel. Just over a half-hour’s worth of music, Peace is Burning like a River is an album you can listen to over and over without getting tired of it.

Written by: Elizabeth Stannard Gromisch, July 9th 2007