TOY – Happy In The Hollow
(January 25th Tough Love Records)
Low-tempo Krautrock with a seriously languid groove. If Faust was secretly a bunch of goddamn hippies they would sound like this.
(January 25th Tough Love Records)
Low-tempo Krautrock with a seriously languid groove. If Faust was secretly a bunch of goddamn hippies they would sound like this.
(January 11th on Sonic Cathedral Records)
Psychedelic noise-rock that walks the thin line between being artistically and willfully difficult. Avoids becoming lost in a gauzy haze by virtue of an excellent rhythm section that knows instinctively how to ride a groove.
(January 11th, 2019 on Memphis Industries)
Field Music and Admiral Fallow, together at last, or something. Like chocolate and peanut butter for people who think Eighties post-Genesis pop was fuckin’ keen.
During the wild, chaotic run-up to the release of The Life Of Pablo, Kanye West announced that it would be a “gospel album”, inspired by the African-American tradition of blending worship in church with soaring choral music that God himself might hear. Despite the label, the only gospel moments on the album were the admittedly brilliant opener “Ultralight Beam” and “Lowlight”, an intro to the more traditional (and Young Thug guesting) “Highlight”.
Fellow Chicago musician Chance The Rapper was on the former, and it’s Chance The Rapper that is now bringing out what ‘Ye promised: a full-on gospel hip hop record, embracing the worldliness of life in often-violent Chicago, and simultaneously the glory and life guide of his religion. Rather than the lysergic uncertainty of his breakthrough Acid Rap, Coloring Book finds a man confident in his faith and in sorrow for his city and his people. “Blessings (Reprise)” has him saying “They never seen a rapper practice modesty, I never practice, I only perform”, and this serves as a good overarching theme for the record as a whole. It’s an album that stands in direct contrast to the nihilistic, violent drill scene that Chicago is known for; rather than a finger-waving sermon, though, tracks like “Summer Friends” seem to offer a prayer for those caught up in the summertime violence that is endemic to the drug and gang-ridden city streets. The problem with overtly “Christian” artists is that the music often seems to take a backseat to the message; they’re so concerned with connecting with “the kids” that they don’t take the time to actually figure out what makes the secular music so appealing in the first place. Chance succeeds exactly where “Christian rap” or “Christian rock” fails: he lets his faith infuse his music, rather than supersede it. He’s intensely relatable, even when you’re outside of the continuum of his experience.
Even better in this day and age, Chance is staunchly independent. He doesn’t need a label, and he doesn’t need to sell his album just to fulfill label quotas. Coloring Book is free, and as such it’s technically classified as a mixtape. It’s a subject he addresses on “No Problem” with Lil’ Wayne (no stranger to label problems himself) and “Mixtape” (with ultra-prolific fellow mixtaper Young Thug), but it’s also a subject he brought up originally on “Ultralight Beam”: “He said let’s do a good ass job with Chance 3 / I hear you gotta sell it to snatch the Grammy / Let’s make it so free and the bars so hard / That there ain’t one gosh darn part you can’t tweet”. Mixtapes are ineligible for Grammys, and if there’s an album that deserves a Grammy it’s Coloring Book – a fact that perhaps led Chance to release it on DatPiff and then shortly after make it a short-term iTunes exclusive. Nonwithstanding whether having it on a paid streaming service makes it “for sale”, Chance’s Twitter fans ended up tweeting all of the lyrics to Coloring Book. They’re a loyal group and Chance is the sort of artist to reward them for their loyalty with both quality and (between his own work, his guest spots, and his gig fronting Chicago experimental pop group The Social Experiment) quantity.
Chance deserves to be mentioned in the same breath as the other giants of modern hip hop – your Weezys, Drizzys, Yeezys, K. Dots, et al. He’s got a killer flow, has a Kendrick-like appreciation for intricate wordplay, and has the ability to ride a vibe for all it’s worth better than pretty much anyone else. In a genre dominated by a careful balance between artistry and crass mercenary sales grubbing, Chance takes the left hand path and is all the better for it.
The perennial also-ran to A$AP Rocky comes into his own with a solid album of hard-hitting verses backed with a staggering amount of high-profile guest spots.
Eight songs from 2015’s Wire record were redone for this mini-LP. As it turns out, the pioneers of jittery indie rock fall apart when they try to hold themselves still even for a moment.
Toronto has a reputation for noisy rock ‘n’ roll – emphasis on the noise part. In the grand tradition of METZ, Fucked Up, et al. comes Greys, who pile noisy parts on top of each other until they approximate songs. While their sound has expanded somewhat from their debut, it’s still fairly limited in terms of it’s overall impact. Still, for something to crank up to ten and annoy the neighbours with, you could do worse.
A pleasant surprise from a band that’s been very hit and miss since their stellar debut, Parc Avenue. Strives less for radio play than it does for campfire grit.
The veteran alt-country band has lost quite a bit of oomph over the years, and their ninth album can’t hold a candle to their earlier career. Decent enough stuff, but unexceptional.
The standard-bearers for the modern Riot Grrl movement get a little slicker and a bit more commercial on their third album. It works, but I miss the fireworks and slashing of old. At least the punk rock feminist righteousness is still intact.
My wife and I keep Sirius XMU, the “indie” satellite channel, on in the car pretty much all the time. One consequence of this is that, when the blogger guest DJs come on, things can get pretty random. One day, during what might have been Brooklyn Vegan’s set but was probably Gorilla Vs Bear’s, the subject of vaporwave was brought up. Sort of. Whomever it was referred to what they were playing as “weather-channel-core”, as in “the sort of music that you’d hear played over the weather channel as it flips through various local and regional forecasts.” This is pretty similar to the concept of vaporwave – where the dulcet sounds of late 80s/early 90s training video music (along with every other uncool musical movement of the era) are reconstructed into something bizarrely post-modern. Either way, it’s taking the sound of music that was never really meant to be listened to actively and ensuring that the listener has to do so.
The genre has had some limited success, mainly online. Macintosh Plus (or Vektroid, as she normally goes by) had a lot of people on /mu/ convinced with Floral Shoppe that vaporwave was their life. Saint Pepsi has bubbled around alt-indie radio and Oneohtrix Point Never celebrated his signing to venerable Warp Records with R Plus Seven, a heavily vaporwave-influenced album. Still, in a year where everything sounds like Drake (because everything on the charts has Drake on it, natch), it’s hard to imagine people grooving to adult contemporary saxophones, smooth jazz sounds, factory-preset synth voices, and those hollow, echo-laden drums that scream “cheap Eighties power ballad”. And yet, here is Junk.
Of course, if anyone was going to “go vaporwave”, it was going to be Anthony Gonzalez. His M83 project may have kicked off with a couple of hard-synth albums that appropriated the bombast of Mellon Collie And The Infinite Sadness for an uncertain new age, but his sound came into its own on Saturdays=Youth, the soundtrack to the dream John Hughes movie that only ever existed in your head. It was unabashedly influenced by the Eighties, to the point where the person inside you that desperately wants to be cool feels uncomfortable listening to it at times. Hurry Up We’re Dreaming followed this up with a sprawling double album of synth-rock heroics, dream pop bliss, and more of that Breakfast Club soundtrack vibe. Junk is not like that. Junk takes Gonzalez’s love of 1987 and dives in full-force. This is the smooth jazz-AOR-proto-diva-power-ballad-hybrid album that has been lurking inside of his head since forever. “Go!” has one of those searing guitar solos that used to anchor pop songs (like Eddie Van Halen’s wailing on “Beat It”); “Walkway Blues” has some texture-treated sax (or synth-sax, possibly); “Moon Crystal” is pure VHS nostalgia – an advertisement for a spa, or some other feature you’d watch on an internal hotel channel. “For The Kids” is the sappiest family movie ballad that was never released in a glut of bad straight-to-video movies, although “Atlantique Sud” comes close. “The Wizard” adds in the thin-tape of cheap commercial grade VHS sounds, like a training video that’s been watched too many times over thirty years. “Sunday Night 1987” closes out the album with exactly what the title promises, a smooth, nearly edgeless bit of calmed-down soulful balladry with those Casio-preset piano noises and reedy late-period Billy Joel saxophones.
Junk has all of the trappings of vaporwave except perhaps for its politics. The artists that originally started piecing together the disparate parts that make up the genre intended to offer a satire or critique of modern consumer culture and the disturbing habit of throwing away everything that is even the slightest bit old. It’s meant to reveal the cracks in the golden facade of capitalism by ironically remixing music that was only intended to be a backdrop to sales tools, or to cynically fill in places in art that was only ever intended to make someone along the chain some money. Does Junk fulfill this? Not particularly. It seems to function instead as an homage to Gonzalez’s youth, much as his previous two albums functioned. It uses nostalgia to make nostalgic art, rather than critique the past and future. It’s done in such a deft and seamless way, however, that I can’t really count that apolitical status as a fault. Instead, it’s a tribute to a time and a sound that most people would rather gloss over or ignore. You can see that reflected in the reaction to the album; most people don’t seem to know what to make of it, thinking that there must be some hidden ironic agenda going on that they’re not in on. The cheese is sincere, however, and celebratory.
That Kickstarter Josh Dibb did initially to crowdfund this album? He donated most of that to charity. Kickstarter is problematic. Sleep Cycles is a good album though, one that approximates the bare essentials of his Animal Collective day job without getting into the high-flying lysergic excesses.
The former singer for the J. Geils Band tries to pretend that thirty years of history hasn’t happened and that he can still get away with lite-rock AOR music. It’s always fun when you can guess exactly where each song is going to go from the minute it starts. Did I say fun? I mean sleep-inducing.
Like an actual fever dream, it goes in many strange directions and there’s very little to grasp onto once you wake up.
I just want an album that’s as rich, over-the-top, and powerful as Travels With Myself And Another. Admittedly, this comes pretty close.
One of those indie albums that sounds an awful lot like all the other indie albums. Except for “Dusseldorf” and “Glory Hallelujah”, though: both of those are stellar tracks.
For those albums I’ve been too busy to get to in the first third of 2015, an accounting, or at the very least a terse quip.
A rather different and not altogether unsatisfying followup to 2013’s Some Say I So I Say Light
Weezer without the charm, early heavy metal without the bite, it just makes me miss Be Your Own Pet all that much more.
Noise for people who need structure.
He was always a weenie. Now he’s a weenie with major label money.
Much like a big bubble of pop, shiny on the surface but vanishes into air if you look at it the wrong way.
It’s pleasant enough but I don’t get the high praise and hoopla behind it. Maybe like Andrew Bird if Andrew Bird was an inoffensive little major label folkie.
Evolved grindcore, which is to say it’s what I expect out of a Napalm Death album.
The former Loudest Band In New York just doesn’t seem as loud or as vital anymore.
A progression but not a peak, the sound of a band trying to find its way forward.
As I said weeks earlier, not every halfway-famous band from the 1980s needs to keep putting out records. Sometimes you should just let your legacy stand on its own.
That dictum doesn’t apply to bands from the 90s, though, as many indie darlings of that time – Dinosaur Jr., Superchunk, Pinback, et al. – seem to have figured out the knack of being consistently great.
Nice enough pop rock, but the singer’s voice makes me want to gargle razor blades.
Moving, euphoric, and pretty much exactly like their first album.
Quirky indie rock with enough gain on the guitars to give it some heft. Surprisingly good.
Like Tobias Jesso, Jr, Matthew E White is a reborn Seventies piano man looking to channel heartbreak into soaring pop. Unlike Tobias Jesso, Jr, Mr. White can do more than just plunk rote chords on his chosen instrument.
Fourteen years later, and this is what we get. I guess I know how Guns ‘n’ Roses fans feel.
A new Alabama Shakes song showed up in my Spotify and I’ll be damned if it isn’t one of the best songs I’ve heard all day. The band is best known for bringing life back to southern soul music and singer Brittany Howard’s pipes are on full display here. There’s a bit more of a modern edge to this song than there was on the entirety of their debut, so it should be interesting to see what direction they go in from here.
Yup, live, breathing, and straight off the pages of a shitty cartoon by A. Wyatt Mann. Macklemore stans are bending over backwards to defend their favourite “rapper” but the truth is that he just keeps loading that shotgun and pointing it as his foot. I mean, he follows up a song about anti-consumerism by pimping his own line of Jordans – the shoes kids kill each other over. But it’s okay, because he wrote one song about accepting gay marriage, so he gets a free pass on everything, right? He got a Grammy for his mediocre album over people who actually deserved it but it’s okay because he scream-Tweeted about how humble he was after the fact. He dresses up like an obvious Jewish stereotype and it’s okay, because…the best that Macklemore stans have is “it’s not really a Jewish stereotype, it’s just a silly costume”, because the rest of us have never been on the internet and have never seen the horrible things posted by organized anti-Semites on Stormfront or /pol/.
EVEN IF he somehow had no idea that dressing up like this would be incredibly controversial, it shows that he’s EXCEEDINGLY tone-deaf and a lot more sheltered than he lets on about.
You suck, Macklemore, and it’s more apparent every time you pull one of these stupid stunts.
Some people – most people – imagined it would never happen. After suffering through crippling crack and heroin addictions, drug-fuelled home invasions, and Babyshambles, the Libertines have apparently made up and are going to be getting back together, at least on a temporary basis. On April 25th it was confirmed that yes, despite all indications to the contrary, it was happening. Now their Hyde Park show – slated for July 5th – is sold out and they will be playing their First Show Back to 65,000 people.
What’s the outcome here? Will they be as good as ever? Will Pete and Carl keep away from each other’s throats? Will Kate Moss come out on stage? Time will tell, I suppose. There is no indication that studio time has been booked for the band. Considering the sonic abortion that was eventually collected as Indie Cindy, perhaps its best if great bands of the past don’t go into the studio. Even Black Sabbath waited a million or so years to record 13, and even that effort was largely piss-poor. So, I’m going to continue crossing my fingers and hoping that they don’t leap into the studio right away, or at all.
Actually, considering the track record, Pete should run for Toronto mayor. I mean, if we’re going to be saddled with a crackhead, it should at least be the guy that wrote “What A Waster”.[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0u_g6zNuP_I] [youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CqM11bt9QvI] [youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=koQ2iVu2Uo4] [youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b3yCSsDJjgM] [youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jyQwRUeFSV0]
Playing catch-up with the reviews, Consumer Guide style. Here’s everything I’ve listened to in 2014 thus far. As is my usual style, this list will likely expand quite a bit by the time mid-November rolls around. A couple of them (Here And Nowhere Else and St. Vincent) probably deserve the usual individual reviews but such is life.
Cloud Nothings – Here And Nowhere Else ★★★★★
The Cleveland band’s fourth album finds them scrubbing away a lot of the pop elements that Steve Albini had left on them during the process of their 2012 breakthrough Attack On Memory. It’s a triumph of 21st Century punk rock, eschewing the sunny California-inspired pop stuff that has mired the form for most of the last decade in favour of a hard-scoured feel-bad attack. The album also has the cojones to use the lead single/best song the band has recorded as the final track.[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zA-Fz7Zd39k]
Wild Beasts – Present Tense ★★☆
I still don’t get what people find so amazing about this album. I’ve enjoyed the Eighties retread/re-exploration we’ve been on since 2008/2009 as much as the next person but this isn’t doing anything radically different than the next band. I’ve heard better synth drones, I’ve heard craftier melodies, and the vocals remind me in a vague way of Xiu Xiu, and not in a good way.[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9IIbbFIQTKI]
Tacocat – NVM ★★★☆
Candy-coated riot grrl punk, like Sleater-Kinney-Lite, or maybe an alternate-history Josie and the Pussycats that has a bit of actual substance. Musically inoffensive and lyrically righteous, not a great album but certainly a good one. Nothing original but you can sing along.[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lXt5n9Ni5p0]
The Notwist – Close To The Glass ★★★★
The German band had a breakthrough back in the long-gone year of 2002 with Neon Golden and have consistently flown just under the radar with every subsequent release. Close To The Glass is not likely to change this particular fate but it, like the other albums, is a solid record of warm experimental pop music that balances melody with a mix of textures that change from song to song. Deserves more than it will end up getting.[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUpktwg7O4M]
Julie Byrne – Rooms With Walls And Windows ★★★☆
Glacial, whispered art-folk, highly recommended to anyone who enjoyed Grouper’s Dragging A Dead Deer Up A Hill. Beautiful like a foggy frosty morning sigh.[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M3DjMKLiFDE]