Blood Beat proudly reports its first show coverage from the Noise Pop Festival in San Francisco at an indie rock blockbuster line-up at Cafe du Nord featuring Harlem, Best Coast, the Sandwitches, and the Young Prisms.
The Young Prisms opened the show with a brief but capturing and youthful set, showing signs of a highly promising band despite only a year of history. The Sandwitches kicked the dirt off their spurs and howled out a mix of dark and bluesy folk tunes. Best Coast lived up to their rapidly growing and deserved attention despite some van trouble. And the night closed with an onslaught of stage banter, crowd insults and down right dirty punk style from Harlem.
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On this +20minute EP release from Spencer Krug’s side project Moonface, Krug takes the listener on a journey through caverns, forests, and seas full of mystical creatures and events. Krug, of Wolf Parade, Sunset Rubdown and relentless recording fame, gives us his most cerebral piece to date. Though always a stickler for (self-deprecation and) sci-fi story lines, noticeably on his most recent recording Dragonslayer, this unneccessarily honestly named EP is probably where Krug’s music aligns most purely with his fantasy imagery.
Throughout the track is a steady first person narrative that carries the monotony of a tribal-chanted tale. Beyond the narrative, Dreamland is layered thickly with marimba parts (a resonating percussion instrument akin to the vibraphone), while backing vocals carry the distant, haunting hymn. Hits on cosmic, echoings guitars make cameos, but for the most part the simplistic instrumentation of this song relies on the African-influenced percussion. Vocalizations like “no-no-no-no-no-no” and delicate yips give a distinct Krug stamp to the track.
At times Dreamland comes to almost a dead halt, and is reignited by the speeding bounce of mallets on wooden keys until it seems all but certain that the song will plummet into the ocean at a nightmarish, violent velocity. Just before sea level, Krug takes the yoke and pulls us back to the melody and begins another movement. Scratchy digital drum beats help to maximize the acceleration of the pace and crescendo of the song. Krug’s control over speed and volume is easily the most impressive facet of this indie symphony.
In the end, Krug deconstructs the instrumentation and lets the crackling drums play out alone while he verses over them on repeat, “I am making hissing sounds with my mouth,” leaving an aftermath that coldly permeates the consciousness. Check your feet, as they have likely turned to hoofs.
On the sophomore album from this identical twin act, Chandra and Leigh Watson explore new genres and break out (well, not fully out…) of the alt-country female singer song writer role. The Kentucky-bred gone L.A. duo have come a long way from their supporting role for Jenny Lewis on her 2006 Furr Rabbit Coat release. After sharing the studio with Jenny, M. Ward, Conor Oberst, and Ben Gibbard on a tribute to Travelling Wilbury’s “Handle With Care,” the Watson Twins also found critical acclaim for their Cure cover of “Just Like Heaven” on the grammy nominated True Blood soundtrack, along-side tracks by other modern folk greats Ryan Adams and Lucinda Williams. Classic rock? Check. New Wave? Check. The twins next conquest: R&B?
Even just two years ago, it would have been hard to imagine the Watsons featuring a dueling organ vs. guitar solo on a head-shaking blues breakdown, or layering delay and modulation effects on top of a vibraphone riff; more like dusting off the harmonica. The album’s first single, “Modern Man,” opens with an unusually edgy beat and unusually groovy bass line for their taste. The R&B and reggae persist into “Harpeth River,” pushing the Watsons into territories shared by Morcheeba and Alicia Keys, instead of Neko Case and Emmylou Harris.
The album is far less joyous than their 2008 release, now “breaking backs for dollars, I’m tired of spreading word for you.” and soulfully mourning lost love on “Forever Me.” A far cry from selections like “how am I to be with all your silly ways now?” on Fire Songs. The surprising tunes come in the form of minor progressions sung in deeper alto tones, dwelling in the bassier, curdling notes. The backing rhythm plays far less acoustic and camp-fire strum alongs, replaced by organ vibrations and wah-wah pedals abound.
However, particularly in the later half of the album the sound does relapse to the duos folkier roots on ballad tracks like “Snow Canyons” and “Give Me A Chance.” The album veers completely off course on the jazzy calypso track “Tell Me Why.” The albums easiest fault is that it is such a mixed bag of directions. Coming from a pretty straight-cut alt country act, this album feels conflicted.
Talking to You, Talking to Me is a step in the more commercially accessible direction for the Watson Twins, at times offering a sexier, attitude-laden appeal. In contrast with their previously cute and harmonious delivery, the vocals carry a commanding, you-don’t-know-what-you-just-lost presence, lyrically best represented by “Well, the devil in you tried to tell me what do. I don’t think so.” Even the album covers show great divide- dark lighting on model poses of the duo versus the colorful uniting of two hands.
While Talking to You, Talking to Me demonstrates that these gospel-beltering beauties are fully capable of breaching into upward-turning-lip grooves, its hard to make a cohesive record with folks roots and this new direction. http://www.thewatsontwins.com/videos/music_videos.htm
On what is currently my top candidate for 2010 Album Art of the Year, Astro Coast proves to be a melodic, highly listenable debut album from the sunny, indie garage-rock band out of West Palm Beach, FL.
The album cranks in on “Floating Vibes” with open chords like an arena U2 single, and relaxes into a catchy, harmonized guitar and bass groove. The vertical marketing genius of the Surfer Blood experience clicks within the first 30 seconds on lyric “if you’re moving out to the west, you better learn how to surf.” Quickly the band name, album art, album title, lyrics, sound and whole kit & kaboodle resonate and amplify right through the entire album with reverb set to 10.
The band strikes this unique balance between blasting, power pop choruses to bright, cool and moody 90s rock breakdowns. This formula, texturally distant and echoing throughout, is most evident on the band’s first single, “Swim,” which comes barreling in at the front of the record.
Meanwhile, the album does feature some contemporary indie trends which leak into tracks like “Take it Easy” like holes in their wetsuits, featuring syncopated afro beats, occasional synthesizer punctuations and nasally vocals. The chorus sobers up, and crescendos into a warm but saddening groove, like the dusk of a warm summer day.
The aptly titled “Harmonix,” comes in with strumming harmonics reminiscent of Arcade Fire’s “Neighborhoods #2.” This is where the album falters a bit, and the youthfulness of the band feels a bit amateur with lyrics like “We could have been the best of friends… I won’t wait around for the grass to grow back around,” though is given some redemption by a crunching, Dinosaur Jr.-esque break-down.
At times the album rocks with punk influence on such on tracks “Neighbor Riffs,” with beats that rattle, steady bass melodies, and dueling, echoing guitars that coast along each other.
Songs like “Twin Peaks” take pages out of earlier sun-worshippers The Zombies’ book with similarly structured progressions and frequent slips into airy, falsetto. But the band stamps their own symbol on these pages with more banging choruses and frenetic rhythms.
The swinging transitions of the record steal it from the obvious rock bins and allow it to offer something more interesting than it seems on the surface. This youthful, Kanine label band has put forth a fun yet surprisingly serious, highly replay-able first release that will likely keep listeners of a wide audience anticipating their next. “Swim” Live @ KEXP
On their 7th studio album, Transference, Spoon keeps the rasp and puts aside the punch and complexity of past releases. This is a contemplative yet largely simpler album, its chief selling point being the most honest look into Britt Daniel’s lyrical mind that he has offered listeners to date- if ever an appropriate album title. “Black Like Me” off the bands previous release Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga serves as a nice transition into this album with the statement “street tar and summer will do a job on your soul.” Take away the bigger drum beats, the horn section, the side banter, the back up vocals, and ALL of the hand clapping of the prior album and you arrive at this raw album, in which Daniel deeply shares what exactly has been doing this job on his soul. “Before Destruction” appropriately sets this ominously lonely album.
Structurally these songs are basic. The band took a faster, play-it-live approach to recording the songs and built on top of them, creating a sound that is more like polished demos than the smash of the previous album. Drums play straight-rock throughout, as very thin parts whose void are filled by equally steady bass. The rhythm section composes the simpler approach of this album, and the guitars, pianos and vocals mostly concede to meet it there. Tracks like “I Saw the Light,” and “Got Nuffin” gave the album elements of a 90s rock album, featuring dreary, repetitive chords and chorus effects that defined the era. The album has no shortage of Daniel’s devout probing of depth and sound, as songs are often Blitzkrieg-ed by echoing piano riffs or wavering guitars. Though this exploration feels muted on Transference, allowing us to focus instead on its message.
Lyrically the band takes on some pretty big concepts including love, fame, existence and others they readily admit they do not fully understand. “How can it feel so familiar when you’ve never been there?” “Is Love Forever?” “Do they get me like you?” “What’s it like in the mystery zone?” The album leaves all of these questions unanswered, only occasionally puncturing these deliberations on tracks like “Written in Reverse” the album’s first single, to bitterly confesses “All I know is all I know!” The cumulative effect of these mystery zones is an unsettling first few listens.
The band makes a few forays into new styles such as a stripped lullaby in “Good Night Laura” and soulful, dare I say John Mayer-esque vocals on “Who Makes Your Money.” These new forays compose the sponteneity of what makes this album an interesting one. Raw, thoughtful and honest, the album will likely prove a transitional yet memorable album for the band.
This NYC quartet continues to be the whitest entity I’ve ever heard associated with the word “afro.” Even afro aside, a pretty unapologetic embodiment of the word. Contra, the indie band’s highly anticipated sophomore album, carries the bands formula of afro-pop, blended with classical influences, featuring harpsichord, orchestral backings, and violin solos. The album skips along, the 10-track disc totaling a breezy 36 minute duration.
There are two big differences between Contra and Vampire Weekend (s/t): a downpour of electronics that makes this album resemble Strawberry Jam much more so than it does Graceland. This is evident within 10 seconds of the start of the record, after a dangerously catchy intro melody (I really want to hate this music but I ashamedly… just… can’t…), the synth riff comes blipping in along side the xylophone and a wave of backup vocals deep with reverb. This instrumentation and production blend continues throughout most of the record. The production is felt most strongly on “Giving Up The Gun,” a token pop-single to XL Recordings (the band’s label), and a sad concession for a record that is otherwise pretty rich with a fresh approach. “California English,” also briefly falls prey to auto tuning, much to my chagrin. Elsewhere, getting these dweebs out of their mom’s living room and into a full scale studio adds a depth and diversity to a sound that was already teeming with it.
Secondly, though the album is without shortage of yips, outbursts, and playful vocalizations, Ezra Koenig shows more patience and control throughout most of this album. The vocals are sung more often in a lower range throughout, supplying the accompanying music with an appropriately airy, mellower voicing. That is not to say that this album has slowed comparatively, as tracks like “Cousins” pop and tick along at go-cart speeds.
There is no alteration to the joyful, nonsensical trajectory of Koenig’s lyrics. You will find the following phrases within this record: “i remember drinking horchata” (obviously), “a vegetarian since the invasion, she never seen the word: bombs” and “and the sight of the dishes sitting in the bathtub.” Collegiate and nostalgic throughout, though I don’t remember my days at the alma mater and drinking in the sun quite like this…
Ultimately, Contra serves as an impressive follow up from a band that reigned most over rated in 2008.
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