Album: Sleigh Bells - Reign of Terror

Album: Reign of Terror
Mom & Pop
Release Date: February 21, 2012
Rating: ******* (7/10)

Personally, I think you’d have been foolish to harbor high hopes for Sleigh Bells’ follow-up to their 2010 debut, Treats. Sure, Treats was, hands down, the best album of 2010. But remember, 2010 wasn’t exactly 1991. The reason Treats was such a treat is that it was one of the only albums that sounded like 2010. >> Read the full review at piquedmag.com

Album: Jeff the Brotherhood - We Are the Champions

Album: We Are the Champions
Infinity Cat
Rating: ******** (8/10)
Release Date: June 21, 2011

The new Jeff the Brotherhood album is exactly what fans of the band's 2008 debut will be expecting. It polishes the band's three-string psych rock and like their first album, it's a celebration of rock'n'roll excess. The indulgent fun of the album is first announced by an ungodly amount of flange at the beginning of the opening track. I'm not the only person who considers flange top among guitar's guilty pleasures - too cheap a trick to actually use in writing but super fun for enjoyment in one's bedroom. (For those that don't know, flange is an effect pedal that causes a "sweeping" sound without the guitarist actually doing anything.) But Jeff has always wallowed in cheap rock cliches, and in the best possible way. In the face of the wussy anti-rock bias of indie music, someone needs to bring back the wailing solo, the guitar hero posturing, the distortion pedal and the nasty riff. Oh yeah, and over that flange is not one but two guitar solos. At the same time. It's pretty sick.

Although the album does show the band moving towards more sophisticated musicianship, writing and production, they don't really step out of the boundaries they established on Heavy Days, just hone their craft within those boundaries. Some of the riffs even sound like particular riffs off Heavy Days, just reworked and embellished. That's not quite fair, but on the other hand, it's hard not to notice how familiar some of the songs ("Cool Out," "Mellow Out") sound.

The band does amp up their psychedelic side with songs like "Diamond Way," "Stay Up Late" and most of all, "Health and Strength," complete with Beatles-style sitar and high vocal wails. This may be a new dimension for the band, but it's such a 60's throwback that it doesn't really feel like an expansion. To the band's credit, though, they don't opt for a 60's vibe in the processing of their sound, using modern digital effects and beefy 90's guitar tones. As a result, as much as they consciously recall the 60's, their recordings wouldn't be mistaken for actual records from the time. Although they do seek a return to a time of simpler fun, Jeff aren't nostalgic in the sappy way of so many indie bands in the last decade and they aren't afraid to sound modern. They also aren't afraid to rock.

And in terms of rock, there's plenty here. Those thirsting for more ditties by the King of the Riff (Jeff's Jake Orrall) won't be disappointed by Champions, especially if they listen all the way through. Some of the early songs have the band tripping over their own ideas by adding too many complications to their ultra-simple formula. "Cool Out" and "Shredder" are rad tunes, but the album doesn't fully take off until "Ripper," one of the few songs that beats the raw power of the band's debut. Like the original raw power masters, the Stooges, Jeff don't shy away from the grittiest, simplest primal rock'n'roll urges - but unlike the Stooges, there's nothing anguished about Jeff. They're about raw fun.

Unfortunately, the band brings back one rock cliche we could all do without on their ambiguously misogynistic "Wastoid Girl." I know that's not what the band's about, but it's still a bad move on their part.

That track aside, Champions is an enjoyable listen. For folks new to the band, I'd probably recommend Heavy Days. It's got more weak links but its best tracks still pack more punch than almost anything on the new record. Still, it's a toss-up and fans will find lots to love about the new disc - as long as they don't have the audacity to expect something new.

Album: Arctic Monkeys - Suck It and See

Album: Suck It and See
Domino
Release date: 6/7/11
Rating: ***** (5/10)

The Arctic Monkeys are one of the better semi-indie bands to make it big lately, but after a couple of good albums, they've really dropped the ball with their latest release, Suck It and See. It's not bad in any particular way, it's just so fucking boring. So far, the record has garnered a lot of really positive reviews but I can't figure out why.

The album was meant to be "more vintage" than the last couple releases and it seems to have accomplished, with earthy production and mellow songwriting that recalls Lou Reed. The songs are almost all the same tempo (130 BPM give or take 10). They almost all start with guitar, then add vocals, then add the rhythm section. They're mostly in the same couple key signatures. There's little distortion, mostly just a slight amp-generated crunch. Nearly every track features tambourine and although the drum beats vary, they are so produced and unspectacular that they end up sounding the same. The vocals never stray from their most comfortable range. There is reverb on the vocals, guitars and drums and it never varies noticeably anywhere on the album.

Taken individually, most of the songs are above average in terms of both writing and execution. The melodies are poppy but pleasantly languid and certainly tasteful. The simple arrangements are well thought out and the guitar sound is beautifully controlled. The topics of the lyrics are generic but more clever than most.

The record does have its moments. "Library Pictures," the album's heaviest track, is propelled by frantic bass and drumming - but even this song drops down to half tempo for half the song and returns to the jangly crunchy guitar of every other track. "All My Own Stunts" is satisfyingly dark and the vocal melody is the only one on the album that breaks the mold. Meanwhile, "Brick by Brick" rocks hard and recalls the minimal blues-punk of the White Stripes and the gritty psychedelia of bands like Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and Brian Jonestown Massacre. The album's lead single, "Don't Sit Down 'Cause I've Moved Your Chair" - though similar in mood - takes its time in the introduction and with the slow tempo and highly repetitive, generic melody on the verse, it doesn't really accomplish what it sets out to do.

As for the songs that match the album's signature formula, of course, some are better than others. The title track is warm and gently enticing. And the closer, "That's Where You're Wrong," is a subtle, exquisitely written song, all jangling guitars and finespun hooks. In contrast, the first two songs are painfully boring and entirely lacking in melodic interest in the vocals (although there are a couple of good guitar riffs thrown in).

Arctic Monkeys may be good songwriters and they may have perfected their sound, but there is a vacuum in Suck It, a void where energy and inspiration should be. I'd rather hear a sloppy, mistaken-ridden record than one that's polished and lifeless. Skip it.

Album: Boris - Attention Please

Album: Attention Please
Sargent House
Release date: May 24, 2011
Rating: ******* (8/10)

I think you'd be hard put to argue that Boris isn't one of the best bands on earth right now. And in 2011, it seems they are only surpassed in prolificacy, historically, by Bob Pollard and R. Stevie Moore, in terms of the sheer number of songs and albums one can possibly release in a year. On closer examination, you'll find a large number of songs here overlapping with other Boris releases - but any that have seen more than one release have been significantly reworked.

What makes this seventeenth LP unique in Boris's discography is that all lead vocals are sung by Wata, the band's female guitarist. If you've ever seen Wata play, you'll know she can shred like a motherfucker. Her singing is eerie and ethereal, making this Boris's most dreamy record to date (of the ones that I've heard, anyway - to be fair, I haven't listened to all seventeen).

Boris is a difficult band to explain. In one way, they wear their influences on their sleeve, but those influences are so diverse that the band never sounds like anyone else. And while a fair number of bands incorporate vastly different styles, few do it as seamlessly as this group. Sounds reminiscent of My Bloody Valentine or Brian Eno lock into doom metal drones. Industrial racket segues into a sort of demented folk music. Alt rock flare folds into chirping electronica. Nods to the wildman yelps of the Boredoms slip naturally into gaps between speed metal riffs. Attention Please is at once light and heavy, smooth and jagged, gentle and harsh. It's also - as all Boris albums are - simultaneously inviting and impenetrable, accessible on one level but entirely esoteric on another.

That said, Attention Please is more accessible and less esoteric than most Boris releases. That's not necessarily a good thing - this album just doesn't sound as original as most of the band's output. It's softer, more atmospheric and less metal than the last few LPs from the band. The restraint is interesting, especially on songs like the tense title track, with its pulsing house groove, creeping guitar textures and Wata's near-whisper. "Party Boy," with its thickly distorted guitar mixed low over another throbbing dance club beat is less immediately haunting, but also seems to boil just under the surface. Throughout the album, there seems to be a buried anxiety on the verge of exploding.

Attention Please suffers a little from the electronic aspects. Drummer Atsuo's playing is one of Boris's greatest strengths. His approach to drums is raw, animate, wild, vital in a way that is the antithesis of the mechanical beats on much of Attention Please. The mechanical beats have their own charm, and it's not the first time we've heard Boris dabble in electronics. In fact, they use these sort of robotic beats very well, creating a cold, industrial sense of alienation. But despite being effective, it just doesn't sound as fresh - other bands use these sorts of beats, but no other band has Atsuo behind an acoustic drumkit.

Between the foreboding electro ("Attention Please," "Party Boy," "Tokyo Wonder Land") and the hushed noisescapes ("See You Next Week," "You," "Hand In Hand") are some moments of pure pop. I mean, weird, scrambled pop that's juiced up and tripped out, but poppy rock'n'roll ragers nonetheless. "Spoon" is the obvious example, a soaring dream pop anthem, as lush and warm as anything the band has ever put out. In both this song and the similar "Hope" (the album's single), the guitar grows increasingly hard-edged as the song wears on and in the final minute, the band's metal influences seem to take over. But somehow it works, making sure the songs rock without weighing them down.

"Les Paul Custom '86" is an odder track, but hooky with a strange spluttering beat, a quirky and very Japanese (a la Boredoms, Shonen Knife) lead guitar line, and some strange coughing (again recalling the Boredoms). But there are warmer layers of sound here as well, something deeper and more solid than that would imply - it's a layer of low-register sound that prevents the song from drifting off as oddball songs are wont to do.

For a band with such high output, Boris do an exceptional job of keeping things fresh. This album isn't as good as their 2005 record Pink, but in many ways, it can be better to have an album that's not quite as good as, say, Pink, but that also doesn't sound exactly like Pink, or anything like Pink at all. This album is worth buying because you don't already have it. If you have one Boris album, you have one; the band is in a constant state of discovery and invention. That takes both courage and ingenuity and few bands could match Boris on either of those fronts.

Release: Liquid Me - Liquid Me (EP)

Album: Liquid Me
Self-released
Release Date: May 6, 2011
Rating: ****** (6/10)

A couple of weeks ago, this guy sent me an e-mail telling me how awesome I am and asking me to review an EP by some band called Liquid Me. I like it when people tell me how awesome I am, so I agreed. I gotta say, not many bands in my little universe would name their influences as "Nirvana, Motorhead, Black Sabbath, Foo Fighters, and Queens of the Stone Age."

Turns out, they weren't joking. They sound pretty much like exactly everything that was on alternative radio in the 90's. I'm not sure why anyone would want to play a style that hasn't really been relevant since 1993. I'm not really sure why if they did, they'd want someone like me to review it. (I'm also not sure why they are releasing on a Friday. Mysteries!)

But the band does succeed at what they set out to do (assuming what they set out to do was imitate In Utero-era Nirvana and Pearl Jam - oh, and Queens of the Stone Age). The guitar work is impressive - lots of harmonics and nasty riffs. "See Thru" is probably the best example, with a mean solo and a hook doubled on octaves, a la Smashing Pumpkins. But the guitars are on their game for the whole EP. "Resist" also has a fun riff and the drummer Todd is at his best here, endlessly reacting to minutiae in the guitar line.

"She Said" (will people please stop using that as a song title?) branches out a bit sonically, with some distinctly industrial-inspired elements. Meanwhile, "Resist" has moments that recall Black Flag - but only a few. Most of the song is straight alt rock. The EP is also book-ended by their most Nirvana-esque songs so what musical range they do show is buried.

Lamentable lyrics aside, this is clearly a talented bunch. I haven't heard anyone do this genre this well in a long time. But I don't really understand the point of doing something that's already been done, and in fact, done to death and then had its carcass trampled flat and dragged through the mud for years and years by crappy radio stations nationwide. Never mind that Liquid Me is better than quite a few of the bands that made it big post 1995. Like any throwback, it's a fun listen if you're into that kind of thing. But it's not interesting and I can't help but think it's a waste of talent.

Who knows, if the band digs deeper, they may find some influences that broaden their horizons. But for now, they're just chewing up the 90's and spitting it back out. So, if that's your thing, check them out.

Album: The Anters - Burst Apart

Album: Burst Apart
Frenchkiss Records
Release Date: May 10, 2011
Rating: ******** (8/10)

It would be difficult for me to overstate the impact that the Antlers' debut album, Hospice, had on me when I first started listening to it in early 2009. The arrival of my review copy coincided with a moment in my life when I was turning to face certain demons in my past. Hospice put into words, into sounds and into metaphor what I couldn't - the feelings of guilt and confusion that haunt us in the wake of abuse by a loved one. (Many critics seem unable to grasp metaphor and insist the album is about a dying friend, but Peter Silberman, Antlers' songwriter and singer, stated in interviews that the album was about the breakup of an abusive relationship.) I was at a dark point and felt no one could understand - until I heard Silberman singing exactly what I was trying to express. Hospice was a comfort to me, and a guide, and the first time I felt any absolution from the guilt that had pervaded my life for over a year.

So it's impossible that the Antlers' sophomore release would live up to that standard. Hospice grew out of an experience that was not chosen and out of Silberman's subsequent search for understanding and absolution from those closest to him. It's an intensely personal album that always sounded like it was directed more towards friends and family than to an audience of unknown fans. (After all, when Antlers wrote the album, they didn't have fans. I remember seeing them at Cake Shop in January 2009 with a whopping 15 people.)

As much as I touted Hospice, as much as I wanted that album to reach everyone who needed it, I knew success would likely doom the band to musical mediocrity. But when I saw the name, cover art and track listing for Burst Apart, I began to suspect the band was going to pull it off.

And they have. They made good decisions, particularly in not trying to make Hospice, Part 2. Burst Apart is not a concept album and surprisingly, it's not bloated at all. The band also found a way to take advantage of actually having money to record and to become more radio-friendly without capitulating to trend or losing their unique sound. Indeed, Burst Apart's most notable accomplishment lies in the way it establishes the Antlers' sonic identity, staying true to the musical ideas explored in Hospice but also growing naturally into the band's audibly higher production budget. The band passed their toughest challenge with more sure-handedness than anyone could have expected.

The Antlers have said that they wanted to explore a broader emotional range on their second album and hope to establish that they aren't just sad. But with song titles like "No Windows," "Every Night My Teeth are Falling Out" and "Putting the Dog to Sleep," Burst Apart isn't exactly a barrel of laughs. The album is still melancholy, but it is infused with hope and redemption.

"I Don't Want Love" is the perfect opener. It recycles a melody from Hospice (an album that was defined by its reappearing melodic themes) while showcasing the band's shiny new sound, larger and brighter than anything on the first album. The song is breathtaking, one of the band's best to date, all glimmering layers of guitar and synth. It shows a band ready to pick up where they left off and move forward into new territory - musically and emotionally.

Despite successfully establishing the Antlers' identity, the album does suffer in some production choices. In particular, there often seems to be a disconnect between the many layers in the sound. It's obvious the band is not attempting to recreate a live sound, nor should they, but the studio imprint on Burst Apart, the gaps between each instrumental line, dilutes the album's humanity and damages its sincerity. In addition, the heavy effects, mostly reverb, put on the drums often come off as a bit cheesy and lacking in subtlety.

The second song, "French Exit," is a great, radio-ready pop hit, but it suffers from an uncharacteristically bad mix - the synth that carries the melody between vocal strands is far too high in the mix, effectively killing the actual complexity of sound behind it. It's an odd error for a band that usually excels in this area, particularly given how low Silberman's vocals are mixed throughout much of the record. Still, the strong songwriting makes "French Exit" a single-worthy, if flawed, track.

Next up, "Parentheses" shows a grittier, darker side of the Antlers. Silberman's high voice often recalls Thom Yorke, but here the elliptical dub-style bass and crunchy guitar scream Radiohead. While the song fails to quite reach its potential, it hints at what this band may be capable of, at what we might hear from them in years to come.

The middle of the album does drag a bit. There aren't any bad songs in the bunch and quite a few interesting ideas such as the juxtaposition of frail sounds (e.g. banjo) against swelling seas of synth or the low-mixed syncopation that pins down many songs. "Rolled Together" stands out, a brilliantly understated, bluesy ballad that drifts gently into existence but never builds much beyond a whisper. "Every Night My Teeth Are Falling Out" is another signature Antlers' song, boasting one of their best melodies yet. Still, sandwiched between weak tracks, these gems fail to generate the momentum they should. "Tiptoe" is probably the album's weakest point, a two-minute instrumental, that (mostly because the muted trumpet) doesn't fully mesh with the rest of the album - instead of building a bridge into the following track, it stagnates a bit.

"Hounds" is put in an unenviable position - a five minute track near the end, it's hard not to take it as some sort of intended climax. Twinkling guitars and distant-yet-warm vocals envelope the listener. The song may fall short of the masterpiece it's meant to be, but its restrained melodic hooks and subtle horns are triumphant and leave no doubt of the band's growing maturity and sophistication.

But the two closing tracks may be the album's greatest achievement. The lullaby hymn "Corsicana" treads lightly, but its sparse melody is deceptively powerful. The final song, "Putting the Dog to Sleep," is simply devastating. His clear voice punctuated by R&B guitar and bare-bones drums, Silberman is at his best. In some ways, the song sounds very much like Hospice, the compelling melody, the searing pain, the brutal lyrics. But it also shows how far the band has come, seamlessly incorporating new influences (like R&B), breaking the sound wide open, at once gigantic and sparse, vaulted in a way the claustrophobic Hospice never was.

Burst Apart is not as flooring a personal accomplishment as its predecessor, but it shows the Antlers at a new level of professionalism. And most importantly, it establishes the Antlers have greatness in them. It's rare that a young band can establish such a distinctive voice for themselves, especially in the wake of such a rapid rise to fame in 2009. It's a signpost, a foreshadowing of greatness to come. The Antlers have what it takes to change the course of independent music. They may still sink into banality, but if Burst Apart is any indication, Antlers have something earth-shattering in them. It's not here yet, but it's in them, that identity and drive that only comes along a few times in a decade. I knew it when I first saw them live and when I first heard Hospice - these guys are something special.

Album: Screaming Females - Castle Talk

Album: Castle Talk
Don Giovanni, 2010
Rating: ******** (8/10)

FUCK. YES. Sick riff after sick riff after sick solo after sick riff. Castle Talk, out today, may well be Screaming Females' best album to date. The young New Jersey trio already has four full-lengths under their belt and while the records may never quite capture the excitement of their live show, not one of them is anything to sneeze at.

The main criticism usually leveled at Screaming Females (and as far as I can tell, the only legitimate one) is that they aren't doing anything original. That's true and it's a huge bummer. Not only are Screaming Females not revolutionizing rock music, they don't even revolutionize themselves. Their four albums, knock-outs though they are, pretty much stick to the same familiar ground laid out by the first. Yes, you can hear growing maturity over time, particularly in the production techniques but also in songwriting, but it's all a pretty straight, predictable trajectory from where the band started off.

So. Screaming Females are not the most innovative or creative band on earth. They aren't the most adventurous. They aren't the most brilliant. What they are is the best rock band on earth. They tread over familiar ground, but they easily rank among the best bands in their tradition. They play their guitars exactly the way electric guitars and bass guitars were meant to be played. They write songs the way songs should be written. They sing and scream the way the human voice was meant to. They may not be as fascinating as some of the boundary-pushers out there, but in terms of good ol' fun, catchy rock and roll, this is as good as it gets.

Announced by the first sound of the album, a deafening, distortion-fried chord, Castle Talk features the band's nastiest production to date. Their debut was recorded in true New Jersey style, pretty much live. For the follow-up, they recorded track-by-track, and received complaints from their loyal fans that the sound lacked the energy the three musicians generate when they all play at the same time. So for last year's record, the band went back to their old methods, but with a much fancier resources, spreading out to different rooms in a studio to craft their sound. The result was dynamic but still with tightly controlled production.

Castle Talk shows the band hasn't tired of trying new techniques. The album is by far the meanest sound the band has ever accomplished. It's gritty. All the spaces seem filled with distortion and buzz but nothing is sloppy or accidental. Every track seethes with noisy energy. Far more than any Screaming Females album to date, Castle Talk does the band justice.

The normal entry point to any discussion of Screaming Females is frontwoman Marissa Paternoster's sick guitar. But as always, the bass caught my attention just as much. Played by one Mike Abbate, it's the album's secret weapon - Abbate doesn't just support Paternoster, he shifts the context of songs, making Paternoster's guitar suddenly but subtly tenser, uglier or sweeter and keeping the listener from knowing quite what will happen next.

For her part, Paternoster is much more than simply one of the greatest guitarists of her generation (though she is that!). As she demonstrated on her solo album this summer, she is a powerful vocalist, with a distinctive but comfortable voice. I once compared it PJ Harvey channeling John Lennon. I think on this rougher, rawer album, she may be channeling more Vedder than Lennon, though. Or you know what? Screw that. It's more like PJ Harvey channeling PJ Harvey – not in tone (Pasternoster doesn't do any of Harvey's weird high stuff, for starters) but in spirit. In other words, the singing would certainly make anyone think twice before getting on Pasternoster's bad side.

Working collectively, Screaming Females have always been gifted songwriters, shifting the pop-rock formula just enough to keep their music slightly unpredictable from moment to moment. However, Castle Talk features the band's most consistent songwriting since their debut. Paternoster matches the group's compositions with equal (and I think significantly improved) lyrical prowess, diving into her usual rage, self-deprecation and general dysfunction that anyone who's ever been sixteen can relate to. "I wouldn't be surprised / if no one wants to waste their time on me / I'm joyfully[?] employed and normal," she proclaims on "Normal."

The album starts out with a bombshell, "Laura & Marty," a perfect example of what pop-oriented guitar rock can be, compete with a blistering and slightly decadent, but not overly indulgent, guitar solo. Paternoster's tone on her instrument calls to mind Billy Corgan (before he became a national joke), with that same wailing edge. Like Corgan, Paternoster seems to draw equally from metal and shoegaze, psychedelic and grunge, power-pop and hardcore, while never once landing even close to fitting any of those labels. The band sounds familiar (and critics would say generic) because it draws transparently from every great rock tradition. But there's something to be said for taking the best from every school and distilling it into one sick sound.

At track three, "Boss" is without a doubt, one of the band's best songs to date, if not exactly hit single material. The track starts out with hushed drums and a heartbreaking bass line, soon joined by a scalding, lonely guitar riff. The band crashes into the their familiar wall of sound, then drops away again for a restrained and beautiful verse. From there, the song flips between quiet verse to blasting chorus – nothing unusual. However, Paternoster's melody keeps the song at once catchy and slightly off-kilter, with her voice and lyrics both at their best. After a breakdown of sorts, the song closes out with a restrained but soaring, shimmering guitar riff.

"Normal" starts off with Pixies-esque guitar, wandering into faintly Spanish chords, and marks another high point for Paternoster's lyrics. Next up, "A New Kid" starts with a killer, old-school metal riff, opening into a measured, guitar-screeching, chanted verse. The chorus returns to the more familiar territory of intertwining melodies from Paternoster's fingers and mouth respectively, with the bass buried in the but relentlessly propelling the song forward.

"Fall Asleep" and "Wild" are familiar live staples. The former is one of the band's best, and most characteristic songs, split in half by a bare, mournful break. The latter is a little less interesting, with just a little too much unison between guitar and vocals, between guitar, bass and drums, and so on. "Nothing at All" is another gem following closely to the standard Screaming Females formula but boasting a badass breakdown at the song's end.

The only song to really depart from the usual Screaming Females guitar rock is the second to last track, "Deluxe." In what seems to be a reverb-drowned live recording, Paternoster's distant vocals drift in and out of sight under textured acoustic guitar. It's brief – under two minutes – and gives the album a much needed break from the distortion-loaded, vocals-forward sound of the rest of the album.

"Ghost Solo" brings the album to an appropriately rock and roll anthem ending and is one of the best examples of the band's knack for arrangement. Distant thundering drums and nervous bass lead into a building verse, with razor-sharp guitar riffs slicing through to underline (and harmonize with) fragments of Paternoster's melody. In the rich chorus, the vocals, guitar and bass take turns surging upwards, opening to one final, restrained solo before concisely closing out.

Castle Talk may not be a revolution, not in the slightest, but Screaming Females do what they do better than anybody else around. And that has some significance – this is the kind of album that could - and will - inspire girls and boys to pick up guitars and form bands. The album's raw energy and the band's clear love of their music, evident in every note, are contagious. We need people to push the envelope, but we also need bands like this to remind us what rock music is about in the first place – having fun.

Album: Noun - Holy Hell

Album: Holy Hell
Don Giovanni, 2010
Rating: ******* (7/10)

Although Holy Hell has been touted as the first solo release of Screaming Females' Marissa Paternoster, in truth Paternoster has been using the name "Noun" as a vehicle for releases for years now, they just haven't been very formal releases. However, now that Paternoster's band's career has taken off, her identity as a solo art seems to have crystallized as well. The songs that fall under the Noun moniker are still a scattered bunch and Holy Hell does seem like a bit of a dumping ground for odds and ends that fit nowhere else. However, Paternoster's identity as a musician is strong enough, especially when backed with her reputation in Screaming Females, that the album manages against odds to cohere as a statement.

What's most surprising about Holy Hell is that Paternoster's identity as a musician is not established through her much-noted guitar playing. Despite being one of the great guitar heroes of our time (evidenced despite her obscurity in features in Guitar World, Rolling Stone and the like), in Noun, Paternoster is a singer and songwriter. Sure, there's some blistering guitar in there, but when the music trades it in for piano, it's the strange but powerful voice that binds the music together.

Before I carry on, let me make one thing clear - by using terms like "songwriter" and "piano," I don't mean our screaming female has gone soft. The album may be less consistently rock and roll than her band's work, but even at its quietest, the album draws on anger, bitterness and rebellion. (Think PJ Harvey, but slightly less pissed and more sad. And I mean slightly.)

Paternoster was a strong singer even on Screaming Females' 2006 debut, but it seems in the last few years, she's developed a new level of comfort and maturity. "Wrong Things" may be the best example. The strange leaps between high and low voice, the peculiar tone, it's easy to forget Paternoster is only about 24 years old (give or take a year). It's difficult to even imagine what she'll be capable of in a few years.

Holy Hell starts boldly with the rather well-titled "Black Lamb," a sparse, haunted piano ballad that at once makes clear the album is not a vehicle for Paternoster to show off her guitar skills. "Outer Space" has got a kickin' enough riff to almost be a Screaming Females song, but it hasn't quite got a SF-style bass line or melody. "Old Friends" takes it down a notch again, with measured and emotive vocal harmonies over gently feedbacking guitar. The title track makes a strong but predictable centerpiece (a little early in the album for that, I guess, but it serves as such to my ears, a least).

After the astounding control of "Wrong Things," Pearly Gates rocks out with all-around distortion (on the vocals too) for a good but not standout track. "Call Earth" fails to quite click, but that's okay, because it's quickly obliterated by the excellent "So Rough," a thick guitar-pop song with delicious distortion and just a touch of flange. The quiet-loud contrast, with Paternoster's vocals standing bare ("How did it end this way? / I miss you day to day") then sailing in over a brilliant riff, is executed with near perfection. Although I know this song reminds distinctly of song I listened to a long time ago (ten bucks if you can name the source, cause I can't remember and it's driving me crazy), everything's ripped off somewhere. And this song is fucking awesome.

The dark, plodding "Brother" is more roar than murmur, but the restrained tempo and minimal drums keep the tune tense and edgy. Finally, the closer, "Talk," is a knock out of a song. The melancholy, swung melody shoots up into that same breaking range of "Wrong Things" over subtle lead guitar and no-to-barely-any drums, like an appropriately electrified lullaby for a true rock album.

If Holy Hell accomplishes one thing, it's stripping away Paternsoter's overshadowing guitar hero status to reveal a musician who can write and sing as well as she can shred. As any follower of Noun might expect, the album lacks a degree of cohesion and purpose, but the unbelievable quality of the songs suggests what we already suspected - that we have found one of the greatest musicians of this new generation, one with not only the potential but in fact the promise to change rock and roll.

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Live: A Place to Bury Strangers, Big Pink

When: 3/30
Where: Webster Hall

I've never thought about A Place To Bury Strangers being a particularly tight band but that's only because they are so seamless, you don't even think about them stumbling. At least, I never had until I heard them in the craphole that is Webster Hall.

Turns out APTBS now have a friend doing their sound, and while friends are awesome for listening to your problems and buying you beer when you have a bad day, they aren't necessarily awesome for controlling a sound board in a way that sounds good. I know it's an uphill battle to sound anywhere near decent in Webster - the acoustics in that room are notoriously slushy. But the room and the untrained sound guy - well, with their forces combined, they nearly trainwrecked one of NYC's most unstoppable bands.

From the get-go, it sounded like the three musicians on stage could not hear each other. At times, the drums and guitar seemed to be in entirely different places. The bass was barely audible. The guitar noise was a mess, at once hollow and muddy - and then it cut out all together for quite a long time. In the middle of one song, guitarist Oliver Ackerman walked over to the bass amp and adjusted the sound from there. That's a sure sign the guy in the sound booth is failing.

Several times, I thought the band was going to lose it entirely, fall apart and end their set. Much to their credit, they hung on, plowed through and finished in style. For all it ravaged their sound, the venue did beef up the band's visuals, with some serious smoke machine action and some serious strobe lights. The band's visual intensity helped mask the sonic failings, Ackerman in flashing silhouettes abusing his weathered Fender Jag. The deafening noise jam near the end of the set finally managed to lock in the sound a bit and the band exited with their audience rapt.

Though this was by far the worst set I've ever seen from this band, I think the problems were only visible to loyal fans. Anyone seeing APTBS for the first time was bound to be impressed - how can you not? And for those of us who did notice the band struggling, it could only increase our admiration as well. Anyone else would have given up and left the stage, but this trio rode their intensity alone and put on a damn show.

Of course, adding to the problems was the fact that APTBS were opening. Opening bands usually have their volume capped ten or twenty decibels below the headliner, and since APTBS's sound is based on pure volume, the dimmed sound destroyed what little clarity they may have been able to achieve. The true power of the massive speakers hanging in front of the stage was immediately apparent, however, when The Big Pink appeared. The bass was loud enough to severely damage my eardrums despite my fairly heavy-duty earplugs. It was the kind of bass that rattles your bones to the point of physical discomfort.

But I could see why the band cranked up so loud - except for the phenomonally brain-shattering volume of their bass line, there was absolutely nothing going on. How did this band get so popular? Their songs have no substance at all. There were a few decent beats but not a tune, not a song, not cool guitar sound, not an emotion, just vapid showmanship.

And let's talk about the showmanship too. The front man has a rock star haircut and was sporting a tattered white t-shirt under a black leather jacket. Several metal chains hung from his neck. The other major force in the band, the DJ, was a stockier fellow in a black hoody, hood up. Um, could you get any more cliche? Please? Cause that's just not enough for me.

Meanwhile, the bass player was entirely unremarkable and the drummer, well, the drummer makes me sad. See, I hate to hate on a female drummer, but this girl, one Akiko Matsuura, is NOT a good drummer. Granted, she was scantily clad and flailed her arms pretty good, but as a drummer, she sucks. Luckily, about 80% of the beat was coming from the DJ, so her inabilities were well hidden. But seriously, folks.

Maybe if I did a lot of drugs, I might have enjoyed this band. But it would have to be a lot of drugs. As it is, the Big Pink is a waste of time and space. Wanna be ahead of the curve? Forget about them. Everyone else will have forgotten them in a year too. Thankfully.

Upcoming Shows: Bellmer Dolls LAST SHOWS EVER! + more

Tonight! Wednesday, March 17

The Bellmer Dolls @ The Studio at Webster Hall | East Village, Manhattan | $10
Horrible news, friends. The Bellmer Dolls, one of NYC's great undiscovered bands, is calling it quits. They've got a few more shows before they throw in the towel, including this one tonight. The Dolls' garage goth is demonic and intense and their live show has the wild spontaneity that can only come from a legitimate disturbed genius. This is the real thing. [myspace]


TOMORROW! Thursday, March 18

Mahogany + Autodrone @ The Studio at Webster Hall | East Village, Manhattan | $10
Mahogany one of the greatest dream-pop bands ever. Unlike most bands of the genre, however, Mahogany doesn't rely on blurred, amorphous noise. Instead, a hundred distinct moving pieces weave together to create a thick blanket of sound. The whole thing is held together by sweet slow-pop melodies. And this show is all new songs, previewed from their forthcoming EP, so it will be exciting even to old fans. Autodrone play something similar, but with harder edge. Their raging lead guitar draws from proggy metal as much as shoegaze, but it never becomes burdensome. It just gives a sharp alt-rock edge to their dark, dense pop songs. [mahogany myspace] [autodrone myspace]


Friday, March 19

Oneida, Sightings @ Knitting Factory | Williamsburg, Brooklyn | $10-12
I'm never quite sure how to describe Oneida, given they don't fit into a genre and given how many different directions they've explored in the last decade. They draw on krautrock and industrial, concentrating on rhythm and repetition. They tend to be heavy, but their latest LP showed as much world and club influence as metal. It's trancy, cold, loud, aggressive and wholly original. Sightings is even more out-there. They draw on noise, avant garde and no wave to create an unforgiving, skull-shattering noise. [oneida myspace] [sightings myspace]



[Upcoming Shows Playlist]
Saturday, March 20

Ain't shit going on. Everyone is in Texas, I guess. No SXSW for me this year...alas.


Sunday, March 21

Bellmer Dolls @ Coco 66 | Greenpoint, Brooklyn | $7
See above. This is their last show. Ever.


Tuesday, March 23

Black Lips @ Brooklyn Bowl | Williamsburg, Brooklyn | $17
Black Lips play decent garage punk but I don't like Brooklyn Bowl or paying $17 for a show. Still, I thought I'd mention it, especially since there's nothing else worthwhile going on on Monday or Tuesday. [myspace]


[Upcoming Shows Playlist]
The long view...

March
24
Black Lips @ Bowery Ballroom

25
Nada Surf play Let Go + surprise guest @ Bowery Ballroom
Jello Biafra and Guantanamo Schools of Medicine @ Brooklyn Masonic Temple

26
Nada Surf play The Weight Is a Gift + surprise guest @ Bell House
Spoon, Deerhunter @ Radio City Music Hall

27
Nada Surf play Lucky + surprise guest @ Music Hall of Williamsburg

30
Big Pink, A Place to Bury Strangers @ Webster Hall

April
1
Bonnie Prince Billy @ Monster Island Basement

2
The Bronx, Japanther @ Music Hall of Williamsburg
Captured Tracks Showcase: Blank Dogs, Wet Dog + more @ Glasslands
Bonnie Prince Billy @ Monster Island Basement

3
Soft Pack, Nodzzz, Male Bonding @ Music Hall of Williamsburg

6
The Bronx, Japanther @ Bowery Ballroom

8
Black Rebel Motorcycle Club @ Webster Hall

9
Pissed Jeans + Himalaya @ Knitting Factory
Xiu-Xiu, Tune-Yards @ Bowery Ballroom

10
Washed Out, Small Black @ Music Hall of Williamsburg

15
Liars @ Bowery Ballroom

17
Trans Am @ Santos Party House

18
Liars @ Music Hall of Williamsburg
Trans Am @ Market Hotel

20
The Thermals @ Brooklyn Bowl

21
Apples in Stereo @ Bowery Ballroom

22
Quasi, Let's Wrestle @ Bowery Ballroom

25
Shellshag, Noun (Marissa Paternoster of Screaming Females), Black Wine, Pregnant @ Mercury Lounge

May
3
Chapterhouse @ Bell House


[Upcoming Shows Playlist]

Live: Trail of Dead + The Damn Low, Midnight Masses

I got to the [...and You Will Know Us by the] Trail of Dead show way too early and as a result, caught the entirety of the first band's set. The Damn Low are a duo who may not actually be a real band - the whole thing seemed to be some sort of inside joke I didn't care enough about to figure out.

The duo play a minimalist blues punk, a la the White Stripes (though I have a sneaking suspicious they might resent the comparison). It's easy material to play, but they were pretty ok at it and it all might have been good except for one thing - the whole thing was cloaked in some sort of "irony." Folks, irony is dead. This sort of thing has got to stop. The guy sang a song about his "two favorite things," as he put it: "guns and dogs." Har har, get it, cause that's so redneck, har har. I'm over it.

We didn't realize the show was four bands so we left for a bit and skipped band number two and half of the set by Midnight Masses, whose residency it was. I didn't know anything about this band or I might have realized why they were playing with Trail of Dead's "original line-up" - the two bands have two members in common. Midnight Masses is a whole lot of people though, and the only original member of Trail of Dead who isn't in their band, Conrad Keely, joined them for the part of the set I saw.

Midnight Masses make tug-at-your-heart-strings gospel-influenced alternative rock. It's better than it should be, for what it is - I think because this band (in stark contrast with the first act) really means it. They are sincere, if a bit unoriginal. As to be expected of a band with so many members, the songs were layered. The songs, which grapple with spiritual subjects, build on a lot of pounding tom-toms. One, the obvious high-point of the set, opens out into an choral solo with a half dozen voices replacing instruments, then builds it up into swelling refrain. It's moving....easy, but moving.

Midnight Masses is fronted by the tall and charismatic Autry Fulbright. He's got a welcoming and bold stage presence, but unfortunately, he's not as good of a singer as he thinks he is. He noodles around way too much and doesn't quite hit the notes with the precision his style calls for. The rest of the band seems a little scattered as well, the pieces not quite settled. The band seems fueled by instinct - not quite jamming but with a lot of freedom. Which is fine, but not quite my thing. I can't say as I care much about the future of this band, but I'm pretty sure they'll do well for themselves, and they're definitely worth checking out, if you're into that kind of thing. [myspace]

Trail of Dead, whose "original line-up" is apparently songwriters Jason Reece and Conrad Keely along with a bass player, closed the night out with a great set. They hit up quite a few old favorites that loyal fans probably haven't heard live in a decade, and tossed in a song or two off their better-known albums (notably "Another Morning Stoner"). We got the rare treat of seeing Keely behind the drums and all three kept the show low-key, as such a small event should be. They kept the set short and sweet and left a happy audience. [myspace]

p.s. NYC Taper taped the show. Check it!

Live: Jeff the Brotherhood, Screaming Females and Stupid Party

When: 2/23
Where: Death By Audio

This one is gonna be a bit short, because I recently reviewed all three of these bands. But the Death By Audio show was different enough to warrant a few words.

Stupid Party were themselves as they've been lately. There were too long instrumental parts and with their fourth member, they aren't able to be quite as charmingly reckless - at least not yet. But their slurring, unaffected grungy punk is still refreshing and they belt it out with the same fun. They're still the coolest kids in Brooklyn. [myspace]

Screaming Females followed. Their set was a far cry from their recent Bowery performance. At Bowery, the band nailed their rock songs with precision so fans of their albums could follow, note for note. At Death by Audio, though, the band let go. They rearranged their songs to create wide spaces for raging guitar solos and jamming. Familiar songs morphed into something entirely new while our generation's greatest guitar hero, the diminutive and frumpy Marissa Paternoster, cut loose, shredding her strings and our ears into oblivion.

Nothing is without its price, though. The band's reinvention cost them their usual tightness - a close listener could hear more than a few stumbles - and put a dent Paternoster's singing abilities, pitchwise. But the band sized up their audience correctly. The people cramming Death by Audio at midnight on a Tuesday were the band's most loyal fans, true music lovers and notably many musicians themselves (members of Titus Andronicus, Vivian Girls, Woods, Sisters, A Place to Bury Strangers and These Are Powers to name a few). It was an event for the indie community and the band provided its audience with something fresh, something DIY, something you just won't get at Bowery Ballroom or Terminal 5. [myspace]

Jeff the Brotherhood closed out the night with their usual masterful showmanship. Rocking the best riffs anyone's written in years, the two Orrall brothers sparked a moshpit that quickly engulfed at least half the room. They tossed out a couple of large inflatable aliens to surf the crowd, and these were soon joined by some terrestrial surfers, Jake Orrall included. Too my surprise, although we were crossing the 1 AM mark on a weeknight, the crowd did not thin at all. Wall to wall, fists pumped, heads banged and moppy hair flopped to the beat. [myspace]

The whole time, I was haunted by a little sadness. These bands can pack a room after midnight on a Tuesday and for fans who saw them first in crowds of twenty or thirty, this is the end of an era. The secret is out about both Screaming Females and Jeff the Brotherhood, and while that gives me hope for American culture, it also means bigger crowds cramming between me and the stage, the bands rapidly shrinking into the distance. It's right, but it's bittersweet. Congratulations, guys.

Live: Dinosaur Jr. + Jeffrey Lewis

Woah, tumbleweeds rollin' through this place. Sorry for the long absence. I've had some personal stuff going on.

When: 1/18/10
Where: Brooklyn Bowl

First things first. This was my first time at Brooklyn Bowl and let me tell you, I do not like this place. It's got a creepy corporate vibe. The stage is set up behind and perpendicular to the bowling alleys, so off to your right, you got people who don't care about music bowling. It might be a hip place for hipsters but it's not a place gives a crap about music.

Jeffrey Lewis opened. His set was far too long, so long that my fantasy about beating him up after the show grew ridiculously complex. The guy is one of those K Records wannabe indie folksters who thinks singing about things like moving out of his apartment and mosquitoes makes him super special. Lets get it straight. Being a wuss was bold and edgy when Calvin Johnson did it back in 1988, because at that time, punk had lost its way and been taking over by macho jerks who had no idea the real meaning of hardcore. Punk music and indie music, which were once one and the same, were about making people challenge their assumptions, open rock music to new ideas, open every door that was shut by the 60's and 70's. The door isn't shut to wussy manchild types and hasn't been for a long time. So son, you're making a fool of yourself, making music that hundreds of people have already made. It's unoriginal and easy.

Even if there were some merit in the genre, Jeffrey Lewis ain't the guy to find it. Even though it's a exceedingly simple kind of music to make, he messed it up a lot, particularly with regards to rhythm. His little rap song, set to handclaps, fell of the rails more than once. I don't really like it when people make a mockery of music. I suppose I should say something nice. Well, he had some strong melodies. Stayed on them for far too long, but at least they were good. Not everyone can write a good melody. So he's got that. [MySpace]

OK, time for the main act. Dinosaur Jr positively killed. J Mascis, the man who put lead guitar back in indie rock, was in fine form, while Lou Barlow slammed out his most excellent bass lines. They played some songs off their new record, which is good since all those songs are good. They also ran through all the best songs from their first three records. It was a very, very long set and every minute was well spent.

What can I write about this band? They've been playing the same style with the same greatness consistently for a very long time. J Mascis is gray and a bit pot-bellied now. He plays with the same cool he always did. His rips out massive, high-speed solos with no fanfare. His bass player and famous frienemy Lou Barlow stays on the other side of the stage, rocking out as usual, with his dark mop of hair covering his face.

The long set was followed by a long encore. I thought by this point, the band had played everything I really wanted to hear, but then, at the very end, they started playing something very familiar, but that I hadn't heard in a very long time. It took me a while to realize what it was - the cover of the Cure's "Just Like Heaven" that closes Live Through This. It was the first Dinosaur song I ever heard, but I hadn't listened to it in years. And I doubt I was the only person in the audience whose relationship with the band came full-circle that night. It was just one of those sets that brings back everything you love about the band. And with Dinosaur Jr, that's a lot. [MySpace]

Live: Coyote Eyes, Frozen Warnings + No Place, Blast Off!

When: 1/14/09
Where: Death By Audio

First things first. At the Death By Audio show a week ago, the bookers had an interesting idea - have a band play short sets in the back room between bands on the main stage. It could have been pretty cool, I guess, except that they selected a group called Blast Off! to fill this role. Blast Off consisted of aimless "jamming" on instruments including saxophone. And by jamming, I mostly mean repeating the same several notes over and over again for twenty minutes with slight variations. The first break I heard them cover sounded marching band-inspired. Tellingly, that was the best part - awful but at least original. It just got worse as the night went on, repetitive, cliche, totally bland. I wish bands like this wouldn't play in the winter; you have to pick between listening to them and standing in the cold. Tough choice. [myspace]

Now, I've been excited to hear Frozen Warnings for a while, the new project of central Werewolves member Brian Amsterdam. All I knew about the band, other than that it involved Amsterdam, was that it was synth-based. My reaction to the set (of which I missed the first half) was a little mixed.

For one thing, the lyrics were...wanting: "Do you come here often?" repeated eighty times again isn't exactly interesting. Also, the synth sounds seemed a little unrefined - I couldn't understand if they were going for old-school or up-to-date, rough or polished. I imagine that's something that will get worked out over time. Obviously, this is a very new band.

And everything else about them suggests they have enormous potential. The songs are as good as any Werewolves fan would expect - enveloping, intense slow-pop songs with spacey melodies. The sounds, though still underdeveloped, are rich and noisy. Meanwhile, the canned rhythms became much less canned as they devolved into breaking polyrhythms, multiple tempos ignoring each other but somehow interlocked. Frozen Warnings have the talent. Let's see if they have the will and the luck to make it to the next level. [myspace]

Frozen Warnings were followed by a band called No Place, who did not fit with the line-up at all. While the rest of the bands, even the unforgivable Blast Off!, had true artistic ambitions, No Place were rockstar wannabes who sounded like a poor imitation of the Strokes. Now the Strokes are fine, but they didn't exactly tear down any barriers. And No Place is a long way from even that level of merit - usually, a little offkey imperfection adds character, but this was more than a little - it was grating. Meanwhile, the rest of the band kept stumbling. They seemed ill-prepared, moved very slowly from song to song and generally showed themselves to be as unprofessional as they were uninspired. [myspace]

But I had to stick around, in order to see Coyote Eyes, long one of my favorite emerging Brooklyn bands. And DAMN I'm glad I did. Although this band has consistently impressed me with their arty post punk, this show was hands-down the best I've ever seen from them. Last time I saw them, they started out slow and failed to grab their audience. This time, they started the set with their strongest and most familiar song, "Yellow Red," which starts with a demanding half-tempo riff. As the band came in with far more volume and force, the difference in the audience reaction was obvious. While at the Mercury Lounge show, with the gradual build up, the audience drifted over towards the stage for the first few minutes of the song, every conversation was wrapped up within 30 seconds of the opening note of "Yellow Red," the audience immediately turning their attention to the band on stage.

Unfortunately, due to some equipment problems, especially with the drums, some of this inertia was lost during a long break after the first song and subsequent pauses later in the set. The downtime wasn't as well handled as it should have been, but it wasn't terrible either - Coyote Eyes have an intraband banter more amusing than most.

In any case, despite some problems between songs, the songs themselves have taken yet another step forward. In another sign of the band's growing confidence, guitarist and sometimes-singer Manny Nomikos is finally coming into his own as a vocalist. Before, he neither used nor hid the idiosyncrasies of his voice, but this time around, he exploited them. Instead of being a typical indie rock guy who can't sing great but does anyway - which is alright, but a little overdone - he's developing a unique voice that turns any weakness into an asset.

On the other side, bassist and singer Marta DeLeon wasn't at the top of her game vocally. I don't know why - maybe she had a cold, maybe she couldn't hear herself, maybe it was just a tough night. She was a touch offkey, and I look forward to hearing the band when both singers are at their best, when her melodic voice and his oddball yelps and hollers are juxtaposed to maximum effect. Next time, I guess.

Meanwhile, the band's material is great. The songs I know are stronger than ever and the newer ones promise even more exciting directions. Drummer Jeremiah McVay, who has always struck me as exceptionally gifted, seemed to be pushing himself even harder, trying out new ideas and bulking up songs in the subtle ways only an experienced drummer can. Over his unshowy but lavish beats, Nomikos and DeLeon strangled and pounded their guitars into a tight mesh of sonic strangeness. Anyone who saw this show should have no doubt that Coyote Eyes is one of the most bold, original and talented bands in Brooklyn. Is it too soon to say "I told you so?" [myspace]

Album: Spoon - Transference

Album: Transference
Merge, 2010
Rating: ******** (8/10)

There a number of indie groups who, over the last decade, have managed to establish themselves as household names, maybe not in most homes, but thanks to the support of NPR and news magazines trying to seem hip, in most upper-middle class, white, college educated ones. Spoon is one of these and their every release is anticipated, then celebrated by their pseudo-indie fans almost by rote.

I've never fully understood the popular reaction to Spoon - I think the band at their best are universally lovable, but their output is certainly not universally great. Their last album, 2007's Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, was greeted with high praise and I still can't figure out why. If one hadn't heard Spoon before, maybe it would come across as pretty nifty, but as compared to Girls Can Tell and Gimme Fiction, it seems bland, formulaic and uninspired. Sure, it may step up sonically, showing the telltale signs of a bigger budget - added instruments, more meticulous engineering - but the songs themselves are weak.

Not so with Transference. In an established pattern of making a great stride on every second album (Telephono but not Series of Sneaks, Girls Can Tell but not Kill the Moonlight, Give Me Fiction but not Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga), Spoon was due to put out a good one and they have delivered. Transference takes what few strides the band forced into Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga as well as the more heartfelt progress of Gimme Fiction and carries the sum to yet another level of maturity.

It's clear from the opening of "Before Destruction" that Transference is a step forward. The song begins with warm, intimate layers of sound, breaking over Britt Daniel's naked vocals. Some songs are classic Spoon at their best, like the riff-focused "I Saw the Light" and the piano clunk of "Written in Reverse." But others, like "Who Makes Your Money," indicate bold progress, much as the song "I Turn My Camera On" did a few years back. Circling a slick beat, "Who Makes" is tense and edgy but at the same time, peels away another layer of timidity and announces yet another slew of conventionally un-cool influences. Once again, Spoon proves they can pull off almost anything they try.

Lyrically as well, the band has further let down their guard. The songs are the band's most immediate and personal since 2001's Girls Can Tell. Also, as Spoon's first truly self-produced LP, Transference does away with the almost sterile sonic perfectionism of albums like Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga. "Trouble" boasts the sound quality of a 60's garage band's high-end home recording. Even the more sonically complex songs like "Before Destruction" and "Who Makes Your Money" have a raw immediacy and the sincerity the last album so lacked.

Transference is the result of Spoon's broadened sonic vocabulary finally finding space to lock in to the band's more emotional, vulnerable tendencies. It's all of the band's explosive creativity and none of their cerebral overreaching. It's everything Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga wasn't and everything Spoon should be. Finally.

[myspace]

Album: Surfer Blood - Astro Coast

Album: Astro Coast
Kanine, 2010
Rating: ******** (8/10)

Astro Coast is one of those albums that is nearly perfect in execution but uninteresting in concept. The one time I heard Surfer Blood live, I walked out after a few minutes because I could not stand another minute. My reaction to this album has been much warmer, but something about it really puts me off.

And that something is that this album is devoid of courage. It's a pop album with a semi-cool underground facade but the band doesn't take risks, emotionally or musically. The last thing we need to start 2010 is another Beach Boys influenced band of white boys making music no one could ever find scary. That said, if we had to keep one, I'd throw out Girls and Real Estate in a heartbeat and keep these guys instead.

Surfer Blood, though recording in a dorm room, have certainly created a masterful record. The production is astounding, with reverb on the vocals that captures the Brian Wilson-style three dimensions so popular these days. The melodies are far more tightly constructed than many of the band's peers - like it or not, it's an album of perfect pop songs, with greater maturity and greater composition than the others of its type. The most obvious reference point is Weezer, but Surfer Blood sound bigger. I suppose if there is an element of courage in Astro Coast, it's that the band doesn't cling to indie falsehoods. They are a pop band and they aren't afraid to sound larger than life.

The only other major flaw in the album is, for all its great songwriting, it manages to rip off more than one source. The opening of "Harmonix" almost exactly echoes the first bars of Arcade Fire's "Neighborhood 2 - Laika" while the major guitar riff in the chorus of "Swim" was lifted from an 80's pop-metal song I can't remember the name of ($10 to whoever names it!). "Anchorage" barely alters a few guitar licks on loan from the poppiest of late 80's/early 90's Sonic Youth. There are more familiar pieces than these, but none are nearly enough to constitute copyright infringement and given the limited possibilities of major key pop guitar tunes, I'm sure the band didn't consciously rip anyone off. But if you're well versed enough in music, you'll hear a lot more of other bands than you'll hear of Surfer Blood themselves.

That isn't to say the record is jumbled - it's a cohesive digestion of vastly varied pop influences, each song fitting well into the package. A few slower, longer, more involved songs like "Slow Jabroni" and "Anchorage" grant the album a little depth. Though not remotely groundbreaking, Astro Coast is an appealing record of professional quality and I wouldn't be surprised to see this band selling out some huge venues in the near future. I just won't one of those buying a ticket.

[myspace]

Who to Watch in 2010: Part 2

I already gave you the rerun list for bands to watch in 2010. Now for the new names:

Big Troubles - Big Troubles seem to me to combine the best of two worlds. They come from the media-savvy New Jersey in-crowd that brought us Real Estate and the Vivian Girls. But unlike most of these aloof bands, Big Troubles crank up the volume and distortion to 11 and aren't afraid to acknowledge a love of the Smashing Pumpkins and Oasis. In other words, they are a rock band who don't stake their music on cooler-than-thou posturing. Their songwriting is excellent, their sound rich and full and their live performance arresting. [MySpace]

Bonus Eventus - This band has been around a while but has only just started to unleash its charm upon the indie world at large. Simplistic pop-punk about being young and drunk isn't exactly a new idea, but these guys do it right. The bare hooks and raw enthusiasm combine to make great songs that will worm their way into your heart. [MySpace]

Ex Wife - Another New Jersey band, but this one from the less aloof New Brunswick scene, Ex Wife released a stunning EP in 2009 and have all the pieces in place to take off in 2010. Their music is punk-smart but emotive, raw but beautiful, gritty but lush. The band is young and sounds it, and it's too early to tell for sure, but I have a feeling this is just the beginning of something massively important. At once pained, agitated and inviting, it all sounds very contradictory, so I suggest you listen for yourself. [MySpace]

Frozen Warnings - With the Werewolves on hiatus, defacto band leader Brian Amsterdam has turned his attention to a new project, Frozen Warnings. If Werewolves are any indiaction, we can expect something relentlessly creative wrapped in a druggy haze and revealing some damn good songs. I doubt this band will sound much like Werewolves, but whatever direction they go in is probably worth checking out. [MySpace]

Heavy Cream - This female-led punk outfit from the Nashville/Infinity Cat scene is the combination of four very talented (and incidentally, very good-looking) musicians. Perhaps because they aren't quite as young and new to music as many of their punky peers, Heavy Cream have already revealed a level of professionalism and focus rare in new bands. But they are still youthful and energetic, delivering their irresistible tunes with reckless devotion. Watch out for these kids. [MySpace]

NEXT>> Part 3

Upcoming Shows: TONIGHT!

What better way to celebrate the New Year (and more importantly, a day off work tomorrow) than going to see some music? There are a few good shows but one stands out:

Screaming Females + Talk Normal, Frankie and the Outs @ Cake Shop | LES, Manhattan | $15
Screaming Fucking Females, y'all, the best guitar rock band on the planet right now. Talk Normal is experimental in a very cool way and Frankie is Frankie Rose of Crystal Stilts, Mayfair Sect and once upon a time, the Vivian Girls. And Screaming Fucking Females. [SF MySpace] [TN MySpace] [Frankie MySpace]

If Cake Shop isn't doing it for you for some reason, here are some other goings on:

Titus Andronicus, So So Glos @ Mercury Lounge | LES, Manhattan | $15
Titus Andronicus is one of the best hardcore punk bands to emerge in the last couple years. They put on an amazing live show. The So So Glos are another great hardcore band. This show is late, so you could probably go after the Cake Shop show if you aren't wiped out by 2 AM. [TA MySpace] [MySpace]

Patti Smith and Her Band @ Bowery Ballroom | LES, Manhattan | Sold Out!
This show sold out months ago, but if you can find a way to go you should go. Patti Smith is the universally admired poet laureate of original NYC punk. Bowery is a great venue and probably the most intimate place you'll have a chance to see Smith play.

Best Albums of 2009, Part 5: #5-1

PREVIOUS>>
Part 1 - Rules and Runners Up
Part 2 - #25-21
Part 3 - #20-16
Part 4 - #15-11
Part 5 - #10-5

#5

The Horrors - Primary Colours
XL

I've hated on the Horrors pretty seriously based on seeing them live, but after a recommendation from my punk heroes Fucked Up, I decided to give the album a fair chance. And I gotta put my foot in my mouth after those snide remarks. This band is what it would have sounded like like if Kevin Shields had been Joy Division's guitarist instead of Bernie Sumner. The guitar itself isn't mixed high, but its twisted reverb and overtones play off the tense Peter Hook-esque bass. The vocals are influenced by Ian Curtis in their flat, desperate melodies, but the delivery is slightly higher and younger - this is no aping. The songwriting may be a throwback to the 80's, but sonically, despite each component's obvious roots, Primary Colours sounds far more ahead of its time than it does retro. Moody but catchy, the Horrors' music is well worth the attention it's garnered. I'm sorry I didn't know that sooner.

How I found it: It was Fucked Up's Best of 2009 list that made me give it a fair chance
Track picks: "Mirror's Image," "Who Can Say"
Link: [MySpace]


#4

Pterodactyl - Worldwild
Brah

As I explained, this is a list of "most exciting" albums, and Worldwild is certainly that. It may not be as professional as the releases by been-around-the-block musicians like Sonic Youth, Raekwon and Flaming Lips, but it proves that it's still possible to find new directions for music in 2009. And though Pterodactyl sound like no one else, they are accessible and melodic. Fast, arpeggiated guitars, jumpy drums and soaring multi-part vocals combine for a totally fresh take on indie rock. The whole album speaks of exploration, energy and elation. Even the album cover, depicting two hikers under a glitchy, digital rainbow, evokes a strange and beautiful otherworld. Unjustly overlooked, Worldwild is good for your brain and your heart.

How I found it: They opened for Oneida.
Track picks: "One With Everyone," "Share the Shade"
Link: [MySpace]


#3

Wavves - Wavvves
Fat Possum

Last winter, Wavves was the first breath of fresh air for me as an indie reviewer. It's a return to the simple, minimal, poppy guitar punk of the 80's. There's no gimmick, there's no bullshit. I know something this simplistic doesn't sound revolutionary, but in a scene dominated by orchestral pop, self-aware art rock and pseudo-ironic hipster club tunes, someone needed to bring us to our senses. And who better than the 21-year-old slacker Nathan Williams whose four-track tunes exploded out of his bedroom and across the indie world last winter and spring, then crashed and burned its way out of the spotlight just as fast? We'll see if Wavves can dust themselves off from their sharp tumble and continue on, but what really matters is that in 2008 to 2009, they were exactly what indie rock needed.

Read more from the original RFR review...

How I found it: I don't remember!
Track picks: "California Goths," "No Hope Kids," "Beach Demon"
Link: [MySpace]


#2

Dinosaur Jr - Farm
Jagjaguwar

In the 1980's, Dinosaur Jr put lead guitar back into indie rock. Without their tuneful but heavy anthems, rock would not be the same today - they paved the way for grunge and 90's punk bands like Nirvana, who, um, might have influenced other bands to say the least. Though J Mascis has most of the songwriting credits, Dinosaur Jr's unique energy has always come from the friction among its three members. Farm can stand alongside the band's best (i.e. first) albums, and for those of us who weren't yet in kindergarten when the band first imploded, it's great to experience Dinosaur Jr not as some historical artifact but as something relevant to our time. They may have some gray hairs, but Dinosaur Jr haven't aged at all. And what could be more exciting than a truly great album by one of the greatest rock bands of all time?

How I found it: It's Dinosaur Jr, duh!
Track picks: "Pieces," "See You," "I Want You to Know,"
Link: [MySpace]


#1

Antlers - Hospice
Frenchkiss

Hospice is the kind of album that changes lives. Exploring the guilt that lingers after abuse and after loss, Hospice is a painful record. Tales of mental illness, terminal cancer and emotional abuse enigmatically intersect while singer-songwriter Peter Silberman comes to terms with the fact that love does not conquer all. Musically, the shaky, dark electronica creates a distinctive soundscape perfect for the psychological decay and hospital setting of the album, while Silberman's high, clear voice unnervingly reveals dark secrets and deep fears. It's rare that an album comes along with the power to mend people, to change their lives permanently. Hospice is one of these albums, surely not for everyone, but for enough of us to be numbered among the greats.

Read more from the original RFR review...

How I found it: Pop Tarts Suck Toasted
Track picks: "Two," "Atrophy," "Wake"
Link: [MySpace]

Best Albums of 2009, Part 4: #15-11

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Part 2 - #25-21
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#15

The Zookeepers - Ballin' Outrageous
self-released

It's been a while I've heard a band that can play in a different genre on every track of an album without sounding like they are having an identity crisis. But Ballin' Outrageous is an explosive record, with creativity flying out in every direction. From the synth-pop anthem that opens the album to the folky indie pop of "Sicky Sweet" to the post-hardcore rant of the title track, it's clear within three tracks, no classification can hold this band. However, the whole album is held together as a single statement because each song captures the same youthful, quirky energy, along with a good sense of melodies and hooks. The album can seem slightly unedited, which is slightly frustrating. But it also makes me think as the band gets older, the next releases will just get better. And this one's pretty damn good!

How I found it: Artrocker, who by the way, has the best "Best of 2009" list I've seen so far.
Track picks: "Chicken," "Ballin' Outrageous"
Links: [MySpace] [FREE* Full Album Download]

*but please donate so they have money to make another album soon!


#14

Here We Go Magic - Here We Go Magic
Western Vinyl

I've been thinking for a while about how to make Here We Go Magic not sound bad. They've got a certain "world music" influence, as evidenced by the marimba-based groove in the opening track, and such nods to African and Asian music have been widely abused in the last few years. But HWGM does it right - it's understated and doesn't sound co-opted. It fits naturally, on an emotive level, with the type of music the band is trying to make. Like a darker Animal Collective, HWGM have enticing, quiet pop melodies and hundreds of tiny sonic pieces perfectly interlocking in intricate layers of sound.

How I found it: Lotsa places
Track picks: "Fangela," "Only Pieces"
Link: [MySpace]


#13

Screaming Females - Power Move
Don Giovanni

Screaming Females are everything a rock band should be. I don't think Power Move is their best album (Baby Teeth has slightly better songwriting), but it certainly their most sophisticated in terms of stylistic breadth and recording quality. Although the attention usually goes to guitar hero frontwoman Marrissa Paternoster, all three members are exceptionally talented musicians. The shredding, riff-rich guitar playing couldn't thrive without its more steady riff-rich counterpart on the bass. And the bombastic drumming keeps the whole thing from ever touching ground. This might be the greatest indie rock band on earth.

How I found it: They opened for Dinosaur Jr.
Track picks: "Bell," "Lights Out"
Link: [MySpace]


#12

Woods - Songs of Shame
Woodsist

The strange psychedelic folk-pop of Woods is certainly some of the most beautiful music of 2009. The amazing melodies remind me of Neil Young and the Byrds, but there's something more distant about Woods that makes their music haunting. It's a hint of something otherworldly, or like looking at something under water - something you can't quite understand or see clearly. The faint but nagging spookiness lurking in every song makes this album truly original and impossible to forget.

Read more from the original RFR review...

How I found it: the internet
Track picks: "To Clean," "Rain On"
Link: [MySpace]


#11

Songs for Moms - I Used to Believe in the West
Thrill House

This is one of those albums that completely dominated my life when I first started listening to it. I was impatient any time I couldn't spend listening to it, and I was even impatient when listening to it because I could only listen to one song at once. Folk/country-tinted punk from three California girls, Songs for Moms have put out a truly great album. The songwriting and arrangements are simple but brilliant, each part filling its roll in the music better than anything else could. Lyrically, the album is a remarkable achievement, the words startling in their honesty but endlessly clever and never cliche. I Used to Believe feels comfortable as an album, everything circling the same images and ideas without quite becoming conceptual. I can't imagine a better folk-punk album than this.

How I found it: Screaming Females via their "Best Albums of 2009" list
Track picks: "With Shotguns," "In the West"
Link: [MySpace]


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