I’m not a fan of Fyfe Dangerfield’s new album. For some reason it just rubs me the wrong way, but also, somehow, in some way, the song “Barricades” really sticks out to me above and beyond everything else on the album. Perhaps it’s how much it reminds me of the Beatles. Perhaps it’s because all the other songs on the album have deterring vocal deliveries and for reasons unbeknownst to myself “Barricades” just came out normal. It’s a simple, straightforward piano ballad.
Maybe like “The Scientist” by Coldplay it just comes together so gently and simply it just hits home. Where the rest of the album feels like too much, too much trying, too much in your face, too much acting, this one song seems to just come together naturally. Those are usually the songs that seem to sit well with me. Simple. Human. Natural. Fyfe.
Peasant’s recent release “Shady Retreat” is an album full of similar sounding songs. All of them, gentle, enjoyable, reminiscent of Elliot Smith, and comforting to the soul. Some of them feeling a little hokey and folky but all of them, easy to listen to and enjoyable. The lyricism is vague but heart-wrenching, hopeful but defeated, delicate but not whiny. The only shortcoming being that throughout the album, there doesn’t seem to be any rise and fall. Any narrative, any album structure. It just feels like lots of acoustic folky songs all stamped together.
Perhaps as a reviewer I am not picking up on the overtly obvious thematic elements that Peasant is conveying in his album, but I simply don’t see anything that would put this album above and beyond just a simple collection of songs. This isn’t to say it isn’t enjoyable or worth listening to, and who says any album needs to have a structure at all? But for me as a listener of an album, I tend to enjoy listening to songs that cohesively combine into something bigger than just their individual elements.
Piano pop rock with a very driving catch throughout, Zeus doesn’t seem to waste time delivering on this single called “Marching Through Your Head”. Handclaps and guitar solos and a chorus of vocals seem to make up the nonstop driving force of the seemingly brief two and a half minute track. But despite its drive and force and push, it doesn’t really feel like a song so much as a response to the song previous.
Since this is the single, I must say, as a single, it feels empty without the rest of whatever other songs should be around it. It’s other four track companions that make up the Sounds Like Zeus Ep. Nonetheless, it’s compelling and catchy and gets your attention and it makes me curious to hear the full EP. That is the point of the single. Job well done.
The Penguin Prison single is reminiscent of the kind of construction that really put Hot Chip on the map. It’s tug towards the dance floor is consistent and the chorus makes the head bob from side to side. There aren’t too many interesting change ups. It’s a simple verse chorus verse chorus kind of song, but it’s that kind of consistency that really drills it into your head.
The album art is nothing short of amazing as well. It might be my very favorite part of the whole listen. And though for me the song may not be a total jam, it’s well made and worth sharing. It may even be right up your alley. Dance music with a lot going on to keep your attention. Welcome to the modern world where everyone likes to pretend they have ADD.
The first track on the album comes right out of left field, or maybe left out in right field? Um…anyway, beginning with an almost Metropolis-esque electro jazz stomp that evolves into the more electro-poppy hope filled second track “Ampling Alp”, Yeasayer seem to declare their roots in 80’s electronica while maintaining a rather refreshing originality.
As an album whole, in terms of how daring and unconventional it is, it reminds me of the Thompson Twins or maybe even Midnight Oil. Specific moments even take me back to maybe the theme from Top Gun or Technotronic’s “Pump Up The Jam” but throughout the endless amounts of keyboards and synthesizers, Yeasayer, is indisputably Yeasayer. Similar to those I’ve already mentioned, Yeasayer’s lyrics as well seem to be the weakest point of the album though they never detract from the overall enjoyment of the production.
A prime example being, “Stick up for yourself son, never mind what anybody else does”. Though well fitted syllabically for the song, it sounds more fitted for an overt emotional moral in a bad drama. In terms of its album structure, it’s rather amazing how as an album it rises and falls nearly perfectly.
With the easily distinguishable hit “O.N.E.” finding itself smack dab in the middle of the album, the album plays like a playful walk up and down a mountainside, with “O.N.E.” being the peak of enjoyment. Though far from discriminating against the rest, it seems to serve as a simple crest of an enjoyable wave of sound. Solid album. Amazing production. It’s absolute ear candy to any engineer and hopefully any listener this year.
I automatically am a bit disinclined to take the band Surfer Blood seriously solely from the name of their band. Before I even listen to them I’m automatically categorizing them into realm of Switchfoot. It’s not fair, but what is?
The band plays pedal pushing rock and roll, which is another mark against them in my book. The guitars drip with effect and the vocals are nearly drowning in the reverb. Everyone knows reverb isn’t horrible and nor are guitar effects, but I feel like the album barely keeps it’s head above water.
It’s too much noise and polyphony that there isn’t ever room to breath. (No, I’m not quitting anytime soon with the crappy metaphors, in case you were wondering) Although the album title is apt, with the album feeling like a cross between surf rock and all the space-like affects that are added via the guitars and vocals, it just gets too muddy.
There’s definite potential overall but, if anything, it just feels like some guys are focusing more on the cool affects they’re making rather than actually writing a song that doesn’t sound like a 80’s new wave punk rock throwback drenched in reverb. It’s like the Strokes and Vampire Weekend decided to have an untalented baby who thought pushing the envelope of modern rock and roll was adding more reverb.
It’s feels like a guitar-fronted band, but doesn’t necessarily present any particular interesting guitar melodies. Overall, it just falls short. And I’m sorry if they caught me on the worst day possible. But I don’t appreciate them making it even worse. I’m sorry guys but it’s just bad news for both of us.
I don’t think I’ve listened to screamo in a long time. Mostly because the genre got old really fast and the same thing over and over got tiring for more people than just me. Notwithstanding, this album landed in my inbox and I listened to it, and to be completely honest I was blown away. Pianos Become the Teeth have made an album that is a perfect reminder of why this kind of music was made in the first place and have done so brilliantly.
It’s not like this album is a new genre, or the style is something different from anything else that’s been done before, because it’s not at all, but it’s still fucking amazing. I wouldn’t consider myself some sort of screamo aficionado, I haven’t got my PhD in electric engineering and design my own guitar pedals or anything. I usually get annoyed with the kind of bands that push a bunch of pedals and make a lot of noise. But there’s something about “Old Pride” that aims directly for the heart and doesn’t miss.
Dan Mangan released an album in 2009 that somehow slipped under the radar for IRR but how it did, remains somewhat of a mystery to me. It’s production is fun and deliberately slow at times which I like. When I catch an album that can start with a bang and then have the audacity to slow things down I tend to be impressed. Especially when it doesn’t leave me yawning.
Dan Mangan’s only slight weakness may be the somewhat typical lyricism that could be called by the harshest of critics, “cliche”. So if anyone reading this cringes at the mention of the word “emo” or “indie” or the line “robots need love too”, you might want to ease into this album gently, or maybe avoid it completely, though you might be missing out on something truly great.
Because as easy as it is to write off an entire album for the mere mention of lyricism that might not be acceptable by the most poetically inclined, the musicianship is absolutely lush with the kind of melody and production that leaves one almost defenseless to its onslaught. With songs erupting into transcendent inclines of symphonic harmony, or playfully leaping into hand clap ho-downs, as a listener, it allows one a great deal of enjoyment. So why not try it out and enjoy it?
I’ve never liked the band Spoon, and the hype surrounding the band has always left somewhat of an acrid taste in my mouth. But finally, like the bittersweet satisfaction of swallowing down acid reflux, I am willing to admit that their new album “Transference” is genius. I feel like an American convert to Christianity after being an atheist for most of my adult life, I’ve finally seen the light, or given into social norms. Whatever.
This album, like everything else I’ve heard them do, is simple straightforward rock a la Spoon. But for some reason, this album instead of others has caught me and placed me into the realm of head nods. And the more I listen to it, the more I think of comparing them to the Beatles. I’m sure there are lots of differing opinions on the Beatles but for me, in comparing them to the Beatles…well, I couldn’t be kinder.
This album is rocking, it’s straightforward, it’s not Animal Collective and I think that’s what I may love about it. It doesn’t really have any moments of transcendent experimentation. The only thing it really does is pick up tempo here and there. The rock does not stop by any means, and no matter how much I’m lacking in ability to describe its aesthetic, all I can really say is that it is enjoyable. And extremely so, at that.
Paul Murphy, best known for the project Wintersleep, is releasing his debut self-titled album “Postdata” Jan. 26 and the images of death and family are rather haunting. A heartfelt album dedicated to the death of grandparents can be really quite moving, but in terms of this album’s delivery, it runs rather hot and cold.
With a total of nine songs, it feels like it could have been more powerful as an EP. Simply put, some songs really deliver and others are absolutely stale. The album never really leaves that drunken stupor of sadness throughout the nine songs though and in terms of crawling into a ball and finding a catalyst to weeping silently alone — well, I can’t imagine a better companion, than this particular album. That, of course, can also be a detractor if you don’t feel like killing yourself or putting yourself into the kind of mood where a silver bullet through the brain doesn’t sound appealing. I mean, you might as well read a novel by Nicholas Sparks in my opinion.
To be as fair and decent as I can be, it’s really good for what it is, and to maybe call upon comparisons, it tends to be rather reminiscent of Mark Kozelek. It is a nice companion to a quiet afternoon. It’s lovely, sparse, extremely gentle and really depressing. But when you’re close to your grandparents and they happen to die and you stay up late drinking scotch and you just so happen to record a group of songs with your brother under those conditions… can you blame Mr. Murphy for feeling that way?
I want to review it. but feel incapable. It’s like screamo and I’m not well versed in screamo. but i actually like it so i feel like it’s saying something… Continue Reading
As a reviewer I find it difficult to deal with buzz bands. There’s always an inherent insecurity in the back of my mind when I don’t fall in line with the public’s idea of what is amazing. I wasn’t taken with “A-Punk” from the self-titled debut, but consequently found some of the other songs absolutely irresistible. Unfortunately, “Horchata,” the first single off Vampire Weekend’s sophomore record, falls short as does the album whole.
Beginning with over-repetition and never really catching an ear outside of being annoying, the album doesn’t sit well initially. It doesn’t even pull any surprises either despite for the use of auto-tune on the fourth track, “California English.” The lyricism is sub-par, the melodies overly rambunctious, and the slight nuances to their previous delivery are absolutely understated. The entire album could easily pass itself off as throwaway B-sides from the first release and is best described by the abused instant message expression, “Meh.”
It isn’t an outright bad album by any means, but everything about the album tends to be lacking the spark that the first album seemed to have. The songs follow the same concepts, repeat similar guitar riffs, and rhythmic patterns, but for some reason, this album just doesn’t cut the mustard. The most enjoyable track, though easily the most mellow and understated would be the fifth track, “Taxi Cab.” But, as it brings in a breath of fresh air into the somewhat lifeless album, it’s quickly halted by all the tracks that follow. As much as I want to say I enjoy this album, I find it all just a little short of compelling.
“Keep Driving,” the opening track to Michael Gross and the Statuettes’s new EP “Impulse & Exports,” has a lot of punch. Its driving guitars and attacking drums leave little time outside of simply enjoying it. With wispy vocals layered on top of loud and fast drums, it’s easily comparable to Nada Surf or maybe even Dinosaur Jr.
The lead guitarist tends to send the song into a more spacier realm which only complements the chorus’s lyrics, “It’s getting clear to me, you’re just a memory and I am just an afterthought.” Simple, straightforward, fast paced rock and roll with rather lovely layered vocals lend themselves for somewhat of a hit on the hands of Michael Gross and The Statuettes.
