You could argue that Guided By Voices is largely responsible for today’s lo-fi revival, or at least that Robert Pollard and company planted the seed in lots of kids’ heads. And now, when recording a record at home is as easy as making a bowl of cereal, anyone with a tune in his or her head and a laptop can create a supposed masterpiece. The thing is that many bands lack the ability to write the catchy hooks that Mr. Pollard seemed to think up every time he took a dump. Instead, Wavves and Vivian Girls make popular but questionable minimal punk rock and noisy mush that was probably as easy to write as it sounds. Fortunately, every now and then a Digital Leather rears its head.
The snotty, irascible Jay Reatard manages the group, which has surely given it a healthy dose of PR and blog rocket fuel. But it’s mostly deserved. Shawn Foree is the driving force behind the music. From his singing voice to his song construction, GBV’s fingerprints are evident, but so are those of The Cure, The Pixies, and years of DIY tradition. He somehow manages to combine all of these influences into something enjoyably propulsive and creative, finding his own voice amidst the ghosts of many others. Take the pensive “Not Now,” a creepy dirge with synth and effected guitar, during which Foree explains that he feels like he’s “in a pornographic soap opera.” Just prior to this, the driving “Modern Castles” joins new wave, fuzzed-out chords with a storyteller’s penchant for narrative lyrics. There are moments of experimental meandering, as indicated by the intro of “Bugs on Glue,” but it’s not long before the song breaks into fast-paced synth-punk. Foree just can’t help himself.
Thank God for that. If you’re gonna make a record, especially a lo-fi, experimental, bashed-out-in-your-bedroom-sounding record, you gotta have at least a semblance of the ability to make music people are actually gonna want to listen to and not just say they want to listen to. And in that, Digital Leather has undoubtedly succeeded.
Sometimes, a mixtape is not just a mixtape. It’s a cohesive, flowing, logical, exhilarating work of art. For example, DJ/Rupture and Matt Shadetek’sSolar Life Raft. Read my review here or below.
DJ / Rupture and Matt Shadetek, innovative producers and DJs in their own right, have made this year’s ultimate mixtape, a combination of dubstep, reggae, and experimental electronic, ambient, and techno. A sampling of the artists reworked, remixed, and blended into this seamless flowchart of beats and soundwaves include Gang Gang Dance, Jahdan Blakkamore, Nico Muhly, and Matty G.
Solar Life Raft begins breathlessly but subdued, with Shadetek’s “Strength in Numbers” softly pulsating, an ambient dancehall anthem. It’s really not until Stagga’s stuttering “The Bad Dance” begins that the beats get wicked and heavy. From that point on, Rupture and Shadetek’s mix sheds its baby teeth for True Blood fangs, swirling through Caroline Bergvall’s weird, spoken-word “More Pets,” Cardopusher’s acid-infused “Green Disorder,” and culminating with Telepathe’s neo-R&B “In Your Line.” Clearly, this isn’t your typical mixtape.
The two DJs used three turntables to create the album, which was recorded over two days at Rupture’s home studio. It’s clear from the sequencing and selection that this was a labor of love for its creators, who have managed to take some truly weird and unconventional songs and make them bump.
Ghostface’s new album is disappointing, to say the least. Read why here or below.
When Ghostface’s new r’n'b-based album was announced, you may have thought of “Holla,” the track off of 2004’s The Pretty Toney Album that featured him rapping over a virtually untouched Delfonics song (“La La (Means I Love You)”). Unfortunately, you thought wrong.
Ghostdini is, in many ways, a very traditional hip-hop album, almost every song featuring Ghost’s rhymes book-ended by lustily sung r’n'b hooks. The supporting cast is mostly up to the task, but in an extremely unexceptional manner. Raheem DeVaughn helps out on two songs, “Do Over” and “Baby,” the latter heavily soaked in AutoTune. John Legend contributes an uninspired vocal refrain to the silky funk of “Let’s Stop Playing.” “Lonely” finds Jack Knight singing the hook, supplementing the storyline of a seriously humbled Tony Starks, whose girl is clearly cheating on him – “Someone been sleeping in my bed, eating my food… walking around in his boxers, like everything’s cool.” Infidelity pops up many times on the album, best exemplified in the aggro “Guest House.” This is one of the better songs on the record, featuring Fabolous as the cable guy Ghost’s lady is messing around with.
This is the Ghost we know and love, spinning outlandish tales, making mundane occurrences exciting – “He watching BBC, eating a salad / I’m on the couch hitting the chalice, checking my texts”). “Stapleton Sex,” on the other hand, features some of the most visceral rhymes about sex since Ironman’s “Wildflower.” What started as silly innuendo on Raekwon and company’s “Ice Cream” has progressed to the literal – “My face is wet, got hair on my tongue / Guess I’m a greedy nigga, absorb pussy juice like a sponge.” That’s just the tip of the iceberg.
Ghostface’s latest effort is no masterpiece, and feels a bit lazy and strung together. Everyone keeps talking about how impressive it is that he retains such legitimacy as he enters the realm of “elder statesman of hip-hop.” But if Ghostface Killah really wants to earn that title, he’s gotta practice a little quality control.
Sometime Yeah Yeah Yeahs member and solo artist Imaad Wasif’s latest, The Voidist, brings his classic rock traditionalism to the forefront. Read all about it here or below.
Despite, or perhaps because of, his indie rock pedigree, Imaad Wasif is something of a classic rock purist. From 2006-2007, he toured with the Yeah Yeah Yeahs as an auxiliary guitar player, and he cut his teeth in the LA band alaska! and Palm Desert-based lowercase. The Voidist, however, his third solo album and first for Tee Pee, is everything these past and current projects aren’t.
It seems that Wasif’s heart lies in the big, traditional rock riffs and the folksy plucking of bands like Led Zeppelin and their ilk, as opposed to the dancey post-punk or lo-fi experimentation he has flirted with in other projects. An element of mysticism pervades his music, as it did on his last solo album, Strange Hexes, from the dreamy “Our Skulls” to the Olde English folksong meanderings of “Widow Wing.” These moments are nice, and showcase a confident singer/songwriter working in a medium and style that suits him well, but the traditionalism that he clings to isn’t always very exciting or inspiring. Songs like the pop-rock “Priestess,” that chug along at a brisk pace and are actually more conventional in some ways, fare better.
Over all, while one can’t argue with the conception and arrangement of Wasif’s work, there is nothing that stands out here. Perhaps that is not what he was going for. Perhaps his goal was simply to a make a no-frills rock and roll record with deft guitar playing and sweet singing that is removed from any trends or fads. In that, he has succeeded.
Bradford Cox’s (Deerhunter) side project, Atlas Sound, just released a new album, Logos, on Kranky. Read my review here or below.
The subtleties between Bradford Cox’s two main musical outlets, Atlas Sound and Deerhunter, can be, well, subtle at times. In general, though, the former has been the testing ground for Cox’s experimental solo work, while the latter has consisted of his more rock-oriented (but still experimental) full band arrangements.
On the new Atlas Sound album, Logos, these lines are sometimes crossed and blurred. “Sheila,” for example, a droning but somehow poppy dirge, would feel right at home on the last Deerhunter record, as Cox intones, over and over, “We’ll die alone, together…” Over all, the new album has a more organic, cohesive, ensemble tone and construction than the previous Atlas Sound album, Let The Blind Lead Those Who Can See But Cannot Feel. Songs like the eight-minute long “Quick Canal,” featuring Stereolab’s Laetitia Sadier on vocals, though, hearken back to that first record, as a whispering programmed drum track skips along under synthesizer waves and thumping bass. The same can be said for the ambient electronics of “Kid Klimax.”
But from the album’s acoustic/IDM opener, “The Light That Failed,” to the ‘60s pop-referencing collaboration with Animal Collective’s Noah Lennox, “Walkabout,” Logos is clearly an ambitious evolution in sound. Whether trading riffs with his fellow band members in Deerhunter or digging into the recesses of his mind with Atlas Sound, Bradford Cox continues to make fascinating and beautiful music.
Read my intro to today’s installment of Lost at Sea’s 2000-2009 Top 50 Albums here. And yeah, the word “douche” needs to be used more in music writing.
Built to Spill’s recent appearance at New York City’s Webster Hall, the first of four consecutive nights across two boroughs, could hardly be called a promotional appearance for their new album. The band only played a few songs off There is No Enemy, instead dipping deep into their catalogue (with the exception of Perfect From Now On) to unearth some classic indie rock gems.
Doug Martsch and company look more like a bunch of dads playing rock and roll now than ever before, but the effect is comforting, not disconcerting. Martsch tends to jerk with a Joe Cocker palsy when he’s belting out a tune, but his movements do nothing to upset his gentle, high-pitched singing voice. The band was tight, all three guitars negotiating their way through a mess of effects pedals, as they turned simple songs into extended jams.
Beginning with “In Your Mind,” a spare, pounding tune with subdued six-string theatrics, the band reinvigorated a bunch of older songs. “When Not Being Stupid is Not Enough,” “Car,” “In The Morning,” even “Joy Ride” were energetic crowd-pleasers of the night, undoubtedly reminding many in the audience of their high school and college years. And for Martsch, nostalgia seemed to be refreshing rather than tedious, as he truly appeared to be having fun dusting off these aged songs. There were moments when the band seemed to be reaching a breaking point, ripping out simultaneous guitar solos for several minutes at a time, but Martsch always reined it in before it became musical masturbation.
The band ended its set with “Carry the Zero,” one of Martsch’s best songs of this decade, before coming back for a three-song encore. It’s kind of amazing to think that Built to Spill remains comfortably on a major label, given the band’s reliance on more traditional, gimmick-free indie rock, and its inability to obtain a Modest Mouse-sized audience. Who knows, maybe it’s not as comfortable as it seems. Maybe Martsch is destined to pull a Sonic Youth and jump ship (or be forced over) to a larger indie imprint. Ultimately, all that matters is that Built to Spill keeps creating the no-frills but still exciting rock and roll that they have thus far, and that they continue to deliver stellar performances like this one.
I did an interview with David Bazan recently for the Village Voice, during which we got to chat about breaking up with God and fans buying vans. Read the whole thing here.
Timing can be a bitch or a blessing. The LA band-as-collective Fool’s Gold releases their debut record of lithe, African-influenced dance-pop with a Hebrew slant on the heels of Vampire Weekend supremacy and a new album from Matisyahu. Valid or not, comparisons are inevitable, especially with the former. Such is the nature of music criticism and wonkery.
This is not really fair, though, as Fool’s Gold’s musical range and motivation are very different animals from these other bands. Yes, bassist/vocalist Luke Top sometimes makes an unfortunate choice by appearing to mimic a generic African patois, at least when he’s not singing in Hebrew, which he does on much of the record. But the music that Fool’s Gold makes is expertly woven into rich tapestries of poly-rhythms, percussion, horns, and spidery guitar lines. The album’s opening track, “Surprise Hotel,” is the band at its best, mellifluously and smartly embarking upon a journey through West African melodies. Indeed, Africa is the source for most of the record, but it’s not the only inspiration. “Poseidon” finds the band flirting with ‘80s indie-pop, something the members would most likely proudly acknowledge, as guitarist Lewis Pesacov cites The Smiths as one of his many influences.
Fool’s Gold goes way beyond Graceland as a reference point, and Luke Top’s nod to his Israeli roots is really not the same as an orthodox Jew doing dancehall reggae. So let’s let bygones be bygones and ignore recent events, because Fool’s Gold’s music offers too much pleasure to write off as just another drop in the bucket of popular trends.
If you didn’t love Polvo in the ’90s, they are back and you have no excuse. Read why:
Polvo, you’ve been missed. The standout band of the school of ‘90s-indie rock has returned, a reunion that should overshadow Slint, Dinosaur, Sebadoh… hell, even the Pixies. A bold statement, perhaps, but one given muscle by the quality of the band’s new album.
This is the Polvo you know and love-twisted passages of guitar lines curling over one another, frantic drum breaks, raga-like transitions, hypnotic noise jams. The better moments on the album, such as opening track “Right the Relation” and “Beggars Bowl,” are ones that furiously rock with agitated fervor. Power chords, discordant riffs, and bass thumps start and stop at the drop of a dime. But the band is also in good form when it’s subdued, as on the nine-minute closing track, “A Link in the Chain.” Polvo’s voice remains one of the most unique in guitar-based indie rock. Though you can hear its influence in countless bands making music today, no one does it quite like the originators.
