Review #13: The White Stripes

The White Stripes-Get Behind Me Satan
(V2)
6 out of 10

Photo links to the White Stripes' website

In the six years since their eponymous debut, the White Stripes have become a household name. The duo of Jack and Meg White (whose degree of relation I’ve ceased concern over) were previously garage rock’s ambassadors to the mainstream. Just how have they lost this title? The answer lies within their fifth album, the curiously titled “Get Behind Me Satan”.

Up until the release of “GBMS”, the Stripes were strictly a partnership of drum and guitar. The allure of their music came solely from the pure excitement of their arrangements, and it was absolutely beautiful that way. The catchiness of hits like “Fell in Love with a Girl” and “Seven Nation Army” appeased the Top 40 crowd, while the minimalist production methods and chronological transcendence of tracks such as “Ball & Biscuit”, “Dead Leaves and The Dirty Ground”, and “Hotel Yorba” pleased purists. But then Jack White just had to get too eclectic for his own good. After the release of the astounding “Elephant”, he produced Loretta Lynn’s overhyped “Van Lear Rose” and protégé’d such mediocre artists as Brendan Benson and the Greenhornes. Somehow, one gets the feeling that this slightly aloof behavior would come back and hit the White Stripes’ next project hard in the head with a blow likely to cause a concussion.

Even from the start of “Blue Orchid”, the closest the album gets to its predecessors, it’s clear to see that the White Stripes have detatched themselves from their past. The garage rock vibe is still there, but the guitar has more of a glossy sound reflective of Death From Above 1979’s screechy bass. If you think “Blue Orchid” is weird for a Stripes song, then you’ll be shocked by the rest of the album.

The supreme songmanship is still here in places. “My Doorbell” is a vaudevillian romp whose hyperactive chorus, persistent cymbal, and peppy piano will have you doo-wopping your way through an impromptu game of ding-dong-ditch. “Take, Take, Take” is a quirky memoir about an encounter with Rita Hayworth that utilizes mind-bending vocal effects and bounces back and forth in tempo at random times. Jack even sympathizes with the ugly ducking on “As Ugly as I Seem”, which could have become a fist-pumping teen anthem. However, in probably the best artistic move in the album, the song is played from a whispery, acoustic perspective, which brings even more poignancy to the lyrical content.

Still, within the album, the Stripes provide a perfect example of how one could overdo the weird and offbeat. On “The Nurse”, creepy, meandering marimba is interrupted by loud and screechy blasts of guitar to create more of a goofy, “hey let’s scare the neighbors” jam session than a song. Jack, unfortunately, lets the showman in him bleed into his vocals on “The Denial Twist”. His enthusiasm is uncomfortably in-your-face and goofy, as he seems overly excited about absolutely nothing. The same aimless shenanigans occur on the high-pitched, ear-piercing “Red Rain”. The pretentiousness shows also in “White Moon”, except on a more subdued level. This song might be another love letter to Rita Hayworth, or maybe not. I really have no idea and I don’t really have the patience to listen to such a boring song to figure it out.

As this new album shows, the White Stripes have lost touch of their true musical talent, and in their disillusionment, have opted for overconfident ambitiousness. Let’s hope NASA decides to call Jack and Meg back home before they venture too far out in space. Until then, I guess we’ll just have to keep on oohing and aahing at their fantastic back catalog.

Key Tracks: "Take, Take, Take", "My Doorbell", "As Ugly As I Seem"

Review #12: Aqueduct

Aqueduct-I Sold Gold
(Barsuk)
10 out of 10

Picture links to Aqueduct's website

Close your eyes. Now imagine a humorous band in the style of Presidents of The United States Of America. Then imagine that band writing songs so oddly heartfelt they’re liable to drive you to tears. Then give the lead singer an affable wit, a goosebump-inducing howl, and a knack for weaving simple yet incredibly memorable melodies. Finally, have them record in a kitchen, a basement, or any other place suited for low-fi lollygagging. If you actually did this exercise, I sincerely apologize for any brain damage resulting from such outlandish thinking. If you didn’t, instead opting for accusations of blasphemy, then you obviously haven’t discovered Aqueduct.
“Aqueduct is David Terry. David Terry is Aqueduct.” Such is the statement made in the liner notes of “I Sold Gold”, the third release/second LP/Barsuk debut LP from the self-professed one-man band (he gets help from his friends) of David Terry. Terry, a scruffy, frumpy everyman from Oklahoma, seems to be the person you least expect to be moody and overly sensitive. But it’s this conflict that makes Terry the magical musician that he is.
“I Sold Gold” opens with the weirdest possible 1-2 punch imaginable, with “The Suggestion Box” first and then “Hardcore Days & Softcore Nights”. In “Suggestion Box”, Terry makes obscure suggestions (“Instead of starting a fire, you should be heating things up”) to no particular person, leaving the idea in the listener that anyone in their immediate vicinity could be doing this poor man wrong. After leaving you with the promise that he’ll never leave you there screaming for his love, the album segues into “Hardcore”, which showcases a series of obscure threats (“Don’t ever ask me where I’m from/In six states that’s considered dumb”) above a bouncy stoner-pop backdrop of woozy keyboard and peppy drums. This is just how David Terry rolls. From the get go, he’s painfully sincere one second and hilariously gruff the next. Welcome to the emotional versatility of Aqueduct.
Mr. Terry also has a knack for creating songs that sound much more epic than their running times. Take the incredible “Heart Design”. Clocking in at only 3:34, it finds the time to include rolling piano, frenetic drum n’ bass beats, carnival-like synths, sincere verses of devotion and confession, and an amalgam of everything at the end topped of with a bit of harp. Also note “Growing Up With GNR”. Although only 3:29, it features pumping drums, in-your-face verses about adulterous ladies, an infectious chorus reminiscing about listening to Guns N’ Roses as a child, and an overall big arena-rock sound oddly achieved through low-fi techniques. A whole lot packed into very little. Welcome to the ingenuity of Aqueduct.
While the aforementioned tracks all pack in several elements of techno, Terry finds the time to keep it instrumentally-oriented. On the superb “Frantic (Roman Polanski Version)”, he rolls effortlessly through a timeless rock anthem with a snazzy-sounding plugged-in acoustic in tote on which he strums as if he’s attempting to rid the strings of soap scum. Also, on the Pinkerton-era-Weezeresque track “Laundry Baskets”, Terry spouts one-liners like “To anyone who likes this song, there’s probably 10 who hate it” while riffing out on the electric. So then I suppose Terry’s more than just a piano man. Welcome to the eclecticism of Aqueduct.
In essence, this album can be listened to any way and perceived any way depending on your mood. From beginning to end, and even into the slightly gawdy instrumental “Gameover: Thanks for Playing”, there’s an air of perfection around it. Whether or not Aqueduct moves forward in the future, I will always remember “I Sold Gold” as the album that set a standard for indie pop. If, as stated in “The Tulsa Trap”, “It takes a man, a modern man, to make the audio that you demand”, then David Terry is undoubtedly a man of the 21st century. Welcome to Aqueduct. Why not stay awhile?

Key Tracks: "Heart Design", "Frantic (Roman Polanski Version)", "Hardcore Days & Softcore Nights", "Growing Up With GNR", "The Suggestion Box", "Laundry Baskets"

Review #11: Common

Common-Be
(GOOD/Geffen)
8 out of 10

Picture links to Common's website

The state of mainstream hip-hop today is that of a skydiver whose parachutes are defective. Most artists take bland beats, rudimentary songwriting skills, and an astronomical ego and try to churn out an album full knowing that it’ll sell like hotcakes as long as they brag about the right things. It’s causing the game to move at full speed with nowhere to go but down. It’s times like these when great albums are totally necessary to attempt to reverse this pattern. Lately, this album’s been the sixth from Chicago MC Lonnie Lynn a.k.a. Common Sense a.k.a. Common. Common’s fought misguided hip-hop before, in his legendary 1994 hit “I Used To Love H.E.R.” 11 years later, he’s teamed up with his buddy Kanye West, who’s produced and released on his slightly Christian label GOOD the album “Be”. The result is raw and real yet still positive and optimistic.

West’s production is actually not the really spectacular thing about this record. It has its high points, but in reality it’s nowhere as good as his work on various other tracks and his own debut, “The College Dropout”. As he’s been doing a lot lately, he samples like a very poor man’s Avalanches. If this and his latest single “Diamonds” are any indication, it doesn’t bode well for his upcoming “Late Registration”. But enough about the ultra-famous producer. Let us get to the superb MC spitting verses here.

In the same storytelling style as the aforementioned “I Used To Love H.E.R.”, Common is stunning on the short yet epic “Testify”, a startling poem about a court case gone surprisingly wrong. Common snarls each word as if the events described in the track directly affected his life. Kanye shines on the track too as he loops samples from Honey Cone’s “Innocent Til Proven Guilty” to create an amazing, catchy beat comprised almost entirely of vocal cuts. Another tasty little slice of ferocious ghetto politics is “The Corner”, a musical doctrine in defense of the various paths (legal and illegal) that impoverished urbanites take to make ends meet topped off by fiery spoken-word bits by The Last Poets. Also, as a much welcomed treat, a live cut of “The Food” from Chappelle’s Show was placed on the album. The performance in itself was the best musical piece ever featured on the program. Performed in a kitchen while Chappelle tooled around with various utensils, it was placed with the show’s most memorable moments. The addition of the song to the album is a reminder of how incredibly professional the performance was put together and how great the song itself was, especially when you consider that it was aired only on Comedy Central.

The most peculiar track on the album has to be “Go!”, where Common raps about his fantasies over a twinkling synth accompanied by singer-songwriter John Mayer. Before you cry mash-up, though, realize that Mayer’s only role on the track is to sing “Go!” several times. Since I’m a huge fan of Mayer’s work, however, and considering the subject matter of the song, I really think that the track could have benefited from more input from Mayer. It’s this slight sense of restriction of experimentation that somewhat hurts the album.

The biggest mistake on the album would probably have to be the album’s closer, “It’s Your World”. It’s 8.5 minutes long, most of which is comprised of unnecessary and tacky spoken-word input from a group of children and Common’s father. It is reassuring to know that inner-city children have dreams, but I’d rather not have learned this on a highly anticipated rap album. However, the track is supposedly broken into two parts. If so, the first part (the actual song) should have been placed on the album while the second (the spoken word), could have been placed as a b-side on a single or on a special edition.

The rest of the album is full of jams that are great although surprisingly unmemorable. Common’s skills never waver in terms of the verses, but the tracks are slightly diluted when West’s production lacks elements that really distinguish themselves from other tracks. Nevertheless, the entire album, from beginning to end, is tit-for-tat much better than anything chopped & screwed. Put another notch in Common’s belt and let’s hope stuff like this is remembered 10 years from now as a landmark as opposed to crunk-hop.

Key Tracks: “Testify”, “The Food (Live)”, “The Corner”

Review #10: Maximo Park

Maxïmo Park-A Certain Trigger
(Warp)
7 out of 10

Picture links to Maximo Park's website

Seldom have I met folks who are familiar with Maxïmo Park, the band that has surprised many in the know by getting signed to Warp Records; a label known for housing such leftfield electronic artists as Aphex Twin, Squarepusher, and Boards Of Canada. Just why is this shocking? The band has the dapper demeanor of Franz Ferdinand, the punkiness of The Futureheads, and maybe even a little bit of the smug lyrical wit of Interpol. Yep, it’s one of those bands. The art punk/dance rock outfit.

Not that I don’t enjoy this sort of thing. Maxïmo Park seem to be at the head of a wave of similar artists that tend to fare much better in Europe than in the States (see Editors, The Departure, Bloc Party). To be honest, I’m a bit of a sucker for the whole thing. Bands like this seem to pump out a good number of catchy songs fairly effortlessly, and Maxïmo Park are certainly not an exception. On their debut album, they deliver brief nuggets of foot-stomping, head-bobbing fun with only minimal amounts of lethargic songwriting.

The album’s star is undoubtedly new-wavey “The Coast Is Always Changing”. In a set that seems affixed on maintaining a perpetual stiffness, it stands out as the summery sing-along. It also utilizes a subtle theme of teen angst within its incredibly catchy chorus. I never thought a song would unashamedly provoke me to sing “I am young and I am lost”, but the fact of the matter is this one does. Less jubilant and more frantically irrational in nature, the UK chart hit “Apply Some Pressure” is equally as catchy. It’s in the same mindset as Franz’ “Take Me Out” in that it rambles on about troubling subject matter on top of a peppy discotheque backdrop.

Also worth checking out are a pair of maladjusted love letters, “Postcard Of A Painting” and “Now I’m All Over The Shop”, where frontman Paul Smith finds numerous ways to hate on a former loved one atop even more energetic instrumental work. All this plus various joyous moments elsewhere in the disc (The line “I’ll do graffiti if you sing to me in French” in “Graffiti”, a dash of electronica in “I Want You To Stay” and “Limassol”) make the album an enjoyable listen.

However, the album opens and closes in an aloof manner. The opening track, “Signal and Sign”, is nonsensical and noisy, and ends in Smith painfully howling. The final two tracks are even worse. “Acrobat” is a lump of spoken-word dreck about inadequacy, and “Kiss You Better” ends the album on an unnecessarily saccharine note. “A Certain Trigger” is also a subpar effort by producer Paul Epworth (You can see the impressive list of artists he’s worked with here). He often places emphasis on Smith’s voice when it’s as its roughest or sometimes even when Smith gets a tad lazy. The sound of the entire disc is very treble-oriented as well, perhaps to take weight off the shoulders of bassist Archis Tiku, who doesn’t necessarily spice up many of these tracks with fancy basslines.

All in all, Maxïmo Park’s debut is good enough to place them toe-to-toe with the post-rock-dance-art-pop-punk-something-or-other brass. But can they stay there? Perhaps we’ll know if the game will move ahead or behind them on October 4^th, when Franz Ferdinand’s second album comes out.

Key Tracks: "The Coast Is Always Changing", "Apply Some Pressure", "Now I'm All Over The Shop", "Postcard of a Painting"

Review #9: Kaiser Chiefs

Kaiser Chiefs-“Employment”
(Universal)
7 out of 10

Picture links to the Kaiser Chiefs' website

The Kaiser Chiefs are a product of marketing. They, or their label, or their management, or whoever, will have you believe that the Kaisers are essentially Blur with a keyboardist named Peanut and a bit more a penchant for rioting; and those who obnoxiously praise them would also call them the rebirth of Britpop. Not so. Instead, the energetic quintet is simply a slightly British take on modern rock specially tuned to please people on both sides of the pond. It’s not American indie rock due to the fact that vocalist Ricky Wilson’s got a bit of an accent, and it’s not Britpop because it fails to frequently utilize all the things about English life that gave acts like Blur, Pulp, and Portishead that certain anglo-centric charm. At its best, what it does do is ride either a synthy wave of high-tempo electricity, a bona-fide catchiness, or maybe even both all the way to an album full of potential alt-rock radio hits.

For those in America who listen to alternative rock radio, you may know the Kaiser Chiefs from their smash hit “I Predict A Riot”. It’s the ideal single due to the fact that it summarizes the basic formula of the album: simple, sing-able chorus, roaring guitar, semi-repetitive, and small supplements of loud screaming from every band member simultaneously. It doesn’t sound like much, but darn is it fun!

Some songs go a tad bit above and beyond this formula, such as the clever wordplay and snappy one-liners in the sinfully awesome “Saturday Night”, which goes so far as to include a motorcycle intro courtesy of the honorable Blur guitarist Graham Coxon. Honors also go to the über-catchy “Oh My God”. All it takes is one listen and you’ll be singing “Oh my god I can’t believe it/ I’ve never been this far away from home.”

If it’s Britpop revivalism you’re looking for, check out “Modern Way” and “Time Honoured Tradition”. Both have elementary commentary reminiscent of your Parklifes and your Common Peoples. They don’t exactly mirror the significance of those notable predecessors, but they’re still really cool, especially for an obvious attempt at a carbon copy.

At the end of the day, I think I can say that the Kaiser Chiefs have potential. If they keep at it, they can fully develop their infectious sound and really create a name for themselves. As the Kaiser’s devout fans may say, “Hey, Blur’s debut was fairly patchy too.”

Key Tracks: "Saturday Night", "Oh My God", "Time Honoured Tradition", "Modern Way"

Notice 7-17-05

It's been quite a while since the world premiere of my Coldplay review, but my fans need not worry. Over the past few weeks I've worked up a nice queue of new music ready for reviewin'. Here's the current list of reviews you may see soon...drop me a message if you'd like me to consider anything else...Also, the Kaiser Chiefs review is almost finished, so look out for it!!!!

Kaiser Chiefs-Employment
Maximo Park-A Certain Trigger
Common-Be
White Stripes-Get Behind Me Satan
Shout Out Louds- Howl Howl Gaff Gaff
Aqueduct- I Sold Gold
Spoon-Gimme Fiction
System of A Down-Mesmerize

Review #8: Coldplay

Coldplay-X&Y
(Capitol)
6 out of 10

Picture links to Coldplay's website

Mr. Paltrow & Friends are not very good at being cryptic. For their new album cover, they write the album’s title in a visual representation of the Bardot code, a virtually extinct predecessor to Morse code. In the liner notes they even place the entire key to the Bardot code and even the message “Make Trade Fair” in the back in Bardot (Whoda thunk Chris Martin was in favor of fair trade, eh?) So, friends, your packaging is mysterious and everything, so how about the album you place inside this complex exterior? Unfortunately, “X&Y”’s subject matter is painfully obvious. Chris is frustrated with everything imaginable and he just won’t shut up about it.

Every single song on here, however good or bad it may be, is not without a reminder that Martin seems to think he’s incredibly handicapped. Sometimes he’s upfront about it, like in “Talk” (“Oh brother I can't, I can't get through / I've been trying hard to reach you, cause I don't know what to do”), or he’s a bit more abstract, as is the case in “Speed of Sound” (“How long am I gonna stand / with my head stuck under the sand?”). Either way, this tense whining makes it very hard to warm up to the lyrical content of these songs.

“X&Y” is a frustrating album not only lyrically, but sonically as well. As opposed to the more melody-focused simpler instrumentation of their past work, Coldplay try to cram in layers and layers of glossy effects, obscuring any sense of melody in many of these songs. This album is an obvious attempt to break away from the middle of the road and jump into the current trend of new-wave influences in rock music today. The prime offenders of this album are songs like “White Shadows”, “Low”, the title track, and the single; “Speed Of Sound”. All these songs could be described metaphorically as airport-hangar sized spaces that Coldplay only manages to store paper airplanes in rather than quality aircraft. There’s not much more here than loads of reverb and Martin’s constant howling of awkward symbolism. This motif is more hit-or-miss than anything else, however, because of great tracks like “Fix You”, which displays sympathy towards a troubled soul besides Martin and uses these droves of sound as a climax to this lament. The album’s opener, “Square One”, comes straight forward with a soaring chorus and becomes one of the stars on the album due to the fact that it holds nothing back. Another example is “Talk”, which successfully rides a riff swiped from the Kraftwerk song “Computer Love” to create another immensely catchy Coldplay classic. True, the P. Diddy Success Through Sampling strategy is a sinister technique, but it’s irresistible in this case.

To attempt to hold onto fans of their past work, they try to throw in slightly more traditional works as well. This choice has created two gems in the ballads “Swallowed in the Sea” and the bonus track, “Til Kingdom Come”. “Swallowed” is a promise to stick with a significant other channeled through sincere metaphors of songs, trees, books, and streets. On “Kingdom”, the ol’ acoustic is finally pulled out of the addict and the band sits down around the campfire to end the album on a much welcomed quieter note.

Overall, Coldplay hang onto their title of the kings of soft rock by their fingernails thanks to a few tolerable songs on a mediocre sellout album. If anything, the entire effort as a whole proves that the band is probably not ready to make arena rock to match the venues they’ll have to play to accommodate the influx of new fans. Enjoy success!

Key Tracks: "Fix You", "Sallowed in The Sea", "Square One", "Til Kingdom Come"

Notice 6-2-05

Note: I have changed the comment setting so that only registered users may comment due to some wankers spamming the comment page on my Bloc Party review. Sorry about this!!! But I would still like to hear from those of you who aren't trying to sell me get-rich quick schemes and various forms of "natural enhancement", so please, if you really have something to say about my writing please register with Blogger and leave me one!!! Danke schon!!!!!!

Review #7: Gorillaz

Gorillaz-“Demon Days”
(Virgin)
8 out of 10

Album cover links to Gorillaz' website and was nicked off Glide Magazine

Alright, Gorillaz are a cartoon band. Get your guffaws out before continuing, naysayers, because these self-proclaimed purveyors of “dark pop” ain’t the Archies. They are the elaborately crafted offspring of Blur lead singer Damon Albarn and “Tank Girl” artist Jamie Hewlett, and they are anything but Saturday morning kid-friendly fare. They are thickheaded cockney crooner 2-D, lady-killing middle-aged satanic bassist Murdoc, Japanese preteen prodigal kung-fu/guitar princess Noodle, and heavy-set American b-boy drummer Russel. Don’t expect anything Monkees-esque from these four deviants.

Many may remember Gorillaz from their 2001 hit “Clint Eastwood” off their self- titled debut, which was produced by Dan the Automator and had underground hip-hop legend Del Tha Funkee Homosapien as a reoccurring guest. That album was mostly Albarn tooling around in the studio between Blur projects, but dagnabbit, the result was irresistible. It also stemmed the classics “19-2000” (with Cibo Matto’s Miho Hattori sqealing about cool shoeshines), “5/4” and “Rock The House”. The theme was mostly peppy and upbeat, and it still puts a Grand Canyon-sized grin on my face to this day.

Now, drop Automator and Del and replace 90% of that album’s decadently fun experimentalism with pure darkness, and you have the brand-spankin’ new album “Demon Days”. To help Albarn through this scary dungeon of an album, DJ Dangermouse, the man responsible for the illegal Beatles/Jay-Z mashup hit “Grey Album”, takes up production duties. The results are staggeringly different, and although it doesn’t beat the overall catchiness of the debut, after a few listens, one may find it incredibly rewarding.

The arrival of Dangermouse has invariably changed the band’s sound. Whereas the debut focused on an overall more instrumental motif, Dangermouse brings a more electronic feel to this album. A prime case in point where this change has been incredibly beneficial is on the hectic electro-rock jam “O Green World”, where Albarn’s fuzzy voice is overshadowed by a series of jittery bleeps, bloops, screeches, and a rip-roarin riff from Verve guitarist Simon Tong, who’s become the primary guitar player on the album. Another electronic gem on the album is the oddly jubilant second single and pop anthem “DARE”, with features a pumping synth beat and slurred vocals from Happy Mondays singer Shaun Ryder.

You may have already heard the album’s first single, “Feel Good Inc.”, an international smash hit. Featuring a catchy rap verse from De La Soul, it is carried by a wicked bassline that gives way to a rolling acoustic guitar for the chorus, a memorable bit of windmill-related poetry from the beautiful voice of Albarn. De La Soul are not the only hip-hop act to attempt to replace Del. MF Doom drops the best verse on the album on “November Has Come”, the closest to “Clint Eastwood” that this album gets. Raspy Brit-rapper Roots Manuva appears alongside raspy songstress Martina Topley-Bird on the spooky “All Alone”. Pharcyde’s Booty Brown also makes an iffy appearance with the San Fernandez Youth Choir on the synth-heavy “Dirty Harry”.

For those looking for classic Damon moments on the album, he wails his English heart out on the superb “Last Living Souls” that, like “Feel Good Inc.”, goes from electronic to acoustic flawlessly. Albarn also offers a potential sneek peek of future Blur works with the wispy “El Maňana”.

The album gets extraordinarily odd during the last three tracks. On “Fire Coming Out Of The Monkey’s Head”, Dennis Hopper, yes, the actor, tells a bedtime story about a civilization destroyed by a mysterious race they had been apathetic towards. Although it’s not very musical, it’s still entertaining from a novelty standpoint. And to close out the album, “Don’t Get Lost In Heaven” and “Demon Days”, the London Community Gospel Choir makes an unfortunate appearance in a feeble attempt to bring a happy ending to an album that is better off left dark. The choir yells enthusiastically about sunlight and new beginnings in a performance that tries to divert from the cool, stealthy feeling that the listener should be deeply immersed in by now.

Noodle was once quoted as saying “Every great band is destroyed by their success. Cartoon bands are no exception.” Demon Days’ sick and twisted sound proves that Gorillaz themselves have without a doubt mutilated their images, leaving in their trail whole new pleasures of a less “light n’ fluffy” nature. Those lightweight little Saturday morning cartoon louts better watch their backs.

Key Tracks: "O Green World", "Last Living Souls", "Feel Good Inc.", "DARE", "November Has Come"

Review #6: Bloc Party

Bloc Party-“Silent Alarm”
(Vice)

6 out of 10

Photo links to Bloc Party's website and was nicked off Artist Direct

Bloc Party seem to have come from out of nowhere. They get signed to the tiny label Vice Records, the same people who have launched excellent acts somehow overlooked by the American mainstream such as The Stills, The Streets, and Death From Above 1979 to name a few, get some hype from the U.K. press; and all the sudden they’re getting airplay on MTV’s popular “10 Spot” lineup, being written about in newspapers, and their lead singer’s collaborating with the Chemical Brothers. Usually the reason for these sudden overnight successes is that their debut albums are groundbreaking, as is the case with the Arcade Fire. But somehow this outburst of press still remains a mystery to me, maybe because Bloc Party’s debut album is nothing special.
Yes, the two singles that have received airplay on our shores, “Banquet” and “So Here We Are” are superb, “Banquet” being an absolutely catchy dance rock smash hit, and “So Here We Are” an ambient stargazer song that seems to rise from the ground and lead your way from the dregs of a dark forest to all the way back home.
And there are some great album tracks here too. “Positive Tension” includes vocalist Kele Okereke yelping in a distinct English accent, sounding amusingly like the vocal spawn of Damon Albarn and Justine Frischmann. The album’s opener, “Like Eating Glass”, is a surging letter to a departed love that seems to end in self-destruction. These tunes are spiffy, yes, but those are four tracks, and there are fourteen on this disc.
So what exactly kills this album? Luckily, it’s hard to pinpoint any one single bad point in the disc. It’s the whole effort in itself that creates an empty feeling inside. Usually, good albums have a tone or a series of tones that really dig at the caucles of your heart. The only tone throughout this whole album is a tone of smug, cold nothingness. This tone makes the album very boring and an unappealing candidate for multiple listens. Great, guys, you can play your instruments. Now try doing it like you have a reason to.
The best thing Bloc Party can do from here on out is have a little more fun with their music. Their sound is seriously capable of making me want to dance, like it did on “Banquet”. The kamikaze riffs and hyperactive drums say “Get up out of your seat!”, but when these four Brits start to slow down and stare at their Converses, I can do nothing more than sit back down. Bloc Party can confuse me in trying to choose the position in which to listen to their music all they want, but I can’t really say I’m a fan until I can effectively choose a mood to match these empty post-punk melodies.

Key Tracks: "Banquet", "Positive Tension", "So Here We Are"

Review #5: The Decemberists

The Decemberists-“Picaresque”
(Kill Rock Stars)

9 out of 10

Picture links to the Decemberists' website and was nicked off Artist Direct

Believe it or not, there really exists a band that can effectively create an atmosphere for your history homework. It’s not Schoolhouse Rock, nor is it Mozart or Bach. It’s a band that’s quietly becoming one of the most heralded of our day, and even though they speak of the otherwise forgotten subjects of barrow boys, young royalty, whaling, and courting peasants, their music is incredibly entertaining and emits unhealthy amounts of cool.
This band is Portland, OR’s Decemberists, led by bespectacled, nasal-voiced, folk-songwriting genius Colin Meloy, who has long before displayed his storytelling prowess on two previous Decemberists albums, “Castaways & Cutouts” and “Our Majesty The Decemberists”. The former was a bleak, quiet album that, although a tad boring, presented some of the saddest songs I have ever heard. The latter was more poppy and jubilant, with a tad more emphasis on instrumentals. On the latest, “Picaresque”, Meloy & Co. combine the best of the two to create the perfect soundtrack to an epic historical drama. Call it the Victorian-Era indie “American Idiot” if you must.
The Decemberists put the best of every type of mood into this effort. There are two excellent epics here, 7-minute “The Bagman’s Gambit” and 8-minute “The Mariner’s Revenge Song”. “Bagman” is solid, with an engrossing story of a fugitive with a backdrop of a great acoustic riff that melts into an orchestral cacophony and back again. But it’s “Mariner”, a more traditional song with a polka feeling to it, that really hits the spot. This songwriting is purely amazing. A fisherman happens to be eaten alive by a whale along with the very person he has been seeking to avenge for years...I don’t want to give too much away! The tone of the song simply is enough to send a shiver through your entire bone structure. This is probably the best song I’ve heard this decade so far.
There are also superb indie-pop ditties here, such as “The Sporting Life”, the oddly upbeat story of a boy whose social life topples down due to an injury, and “16 Military Wives”, a quirky series of numerical one-liners about failed diplomacy and military tragedy. “Wives”, although not the best song on here, is the simplest, and thus was wisely chosen as the album’s first single.
Other gems include “The Infanta”, a towering anthem worshipping a naïve child princess who is ultimately indifferent to her situation; “We Both Go Down Together”, a striking tale of an impoverished woman who falls in love with aristocracy; and “On The Bus Mall”, a detailed landscape of a vintage red-light district.
This is without a doubt the Decemberists’ best yet, and it excites me to think what’s coming up in the future. If you are a fan of any kind of folk music or just need something really new and fresh to listen to, rush out and get this now.

Key Tracks: "The Mariner's Revenge Song", "The Sporting Life", "The Bagman's Gambit", "We Both Go Down Together"

Notice 5-1-05

(Note: I'll be adding "Key Tracks", a couple songs off each album I review that I think you should sample, to the past reviews and every review from here on out. Also, look for a review of the Decemberists' "Picaresque" in the coming days.)

Review #4: Daft Punk

Daft Punk-“Human After All”
(Virgin)
5 out of 10

Picture links to Daft Punk's website and was nicked off geedorah.com

Oh, how I love Daft Punk with a passion. What unbelievable genius has come from these two man/musical robots by the heavenly names of Thomas Bangalter and Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo (How many musicians do you know that are worthy of FOUR NAMES?!?!?) They wrote the book on rave culture on 1997’s “Homework”, took a four year break and then wrote the book on pop music (or electro-pop balladeering, or even anime soundtracks if you prefer to get really specific) on 2001’s “Discovery”. Oh, the minds of these two genius things during these 4-5 years. Now, if you’ve been doing the math here, another four year break from 2001 brings our heroes to give us another nugget of auditory heaven in the year 2005 Anno Domini, which we just so happen to be engorged in as I type this. And, of course, we do get another…uh, interesting nugget from the boys.
Enter March 15, 2005. I get out of work on this day to find that my mum, fully knowing of my anticipation of this event, has already bought me a copy of this heralded disc, “Human After All”. Expecting the best, I eagerly open the CD and shove it in the CD player. The opening title track plays and I am simply giddy. This track gets me moving like the Daft jams of the past. Powered by what sounds like a cross between a howling guitar and a severely mangled vocal sample, the melody proceeds to habituate itself within the deep depths of my mind. For this five minutes and twenty seconds, I am floored with excitement. The bar is set high for the next track, “Prime Time Of Your Life”. The title suggests something much different from the song itself. The title of the song is sung in another mangled vocal sample backed by a fuzzy drum beat, a partnership that melts together to form an industrial symphony of humming and whirring that speeds up like an accelerating train. Not very Daft of you, my friends, but I’ll take it. Something fresh and different, I figure.
That optimism would fall rapidly into a pool of disappointment for the rest of the experience, starting with “Robot Rock”, which has become, by a staggering stroke of idiocy, the first single. Another title singing vocal sample. For the first and certainly not the last time in the disc, repetition makes a guest appearance. It even came complete with terrible guitar.
Another saddening trend in the disc is that there’s a shocking influence of industrial rock here. “Steam Machine” sounds like a bad Nine Inch Nails track, and I’m not even fond of Mr. Reznor’s work. “The Brainwasher” loops a headbanging rhythm that’s seemingly entertaining, yet still fairly depressing. “Television Rules The Nation” has a similar effect. To throw salt in these painful wounds, they just had to try to reproduce their best track, “Harder Better Faster Stronger”, in the absurd “Technologic”.
Oh, it doesn’t stop there. You may have remembered the ballads on “Discovery”, you know, the ones with great vocals from Daft Punk and Romanthony that conveyed an innocent naïveté in the subject of love? Forget about that. There are two stabs at ballads here, “Make Love” and “Emotion”. Instead of making our heart melt while we shake our collective badonkadonks like you did on “Discovery”, why don’t you guys just take a couple of your little NIN-inspired tracks and slow them down! Great job! You’re really making me want to cuddle with someone now!
Seriously though, these two tracks are probably the most tragic of anything in their entire catalogue, or possibly even anything they have ever done in any field anywhere in their whole entire lives. “Make Love” does not make me want to make love, it just makes me want to skip past five minutes of lazy piano. Even worse, “Emotion” does not evoke one single emotion, instead it makes me end the disc prematurely so that I don’t have to endure SEVEN MINUTES of the song title being looped once again.
Thankfully, the boys have issued an explanation/subtle apology in the liner notes, and I quote: “Paris, September 13 to November 9, 2004.” Do the math there. If this is when the disc was recorded, that means it took roughly three weeks to create it. Three weeks! This small fragment of information puts images in my mind of the duo recording songs at 3 A.M. in a bleak apartment, possibly depressed. I may be wrong, true, but this is just my mental image. If you take four years off and take three weeks to record a disappointing album, it really makes me question what the world you’ve been doing for the past 3 years and 49 weeks. This also gives the album a higher score then it would have been had it taken longer to record since the first two tracks are pretty damn good, and to create two cracking tracks in three weeks when you may be in a terrible mental condition is an impressive achievement.
I end with these words: Thomas and Guy-Manuel, sort everything out and start coming up with ideas for 2009. And if you really need to, don’t hesitate to call that Romanthony guy!

Key Tracks: "Human After All", "Prime Time Of Your Life"

Review #3: Kings Of Leon

Kings of Leon-“Aha Shake Heartbreak”
(RCA)
6 out of 10

Photo links to KOL's site and was nicked off BMG

Following the release of the Kings Of Leon’s 2003 release “Youth And Young Manhood”, many critics were quick to bill the Kings as new post-punk mavericks, or the “Southern Strokes”. Meanwhile, following the release of the Kings’ 2005 effort, “Aha Shake Heartbreak”, I strongly disagree with this labeling, and as a Strokes fan, frankly, I’m a tad insulted.
Instead of placing the Kings in the post-punk category in which they would be awkwardly misplaced, I prefer to think of the Kings as the saviors of a floundering alt-country genre. As a band containing three brothers raised by a traveling evangelist in Nashville (plus one cousin from Oklahoma), they seem to be born for that role. “Aha” proves this with a smoky yet decadently fun sound; however, it’s not without its’ clumsy moments.
The best thing about this album is that the instrumentals do indeed echo the Strokes most of the time. The Kings are at their best here when this guitar expertise is displayed. Songs like “The Bucket”, “King Of The Rodeo”, “Taper Jean Girl”, and “Velvet Snow” all deliver fast-paced, 3 A.M. barroom square-dance fun.
Another great track on the album is “Milk”, which, although misplaced, creates a strange feeling. It sounds overly dramatic at first, but after a couple listens this looming stalker song has a powerful feel of desperation. Caleb Followill howls in a manner that fits the song’s narrator, a lovesick aging man with a comb-over. It doesn’t fit too well on this CD, but it’s still oddly attractive.
As much as instrumentals are uniformly impressive throughout the disc, the lyrics are equally absurd and nonsensical. Intentional or not, it hurts the album’s poignant moments. (Honestly, Caleb, is it absolutely, positively vital that we know you hate your lady friend’s “Japanese scream”, whatever the hell that is.)
And speaking of poignant moments, they have never been wrecked in a more effective way than in “Day Old Blues”. It starts decently enough, with flowing acoustic guitar below Caleb lamenting about lord-knows-what. But then the “hook” had to come. The electric guitar sets in and in a unnecessarily high-pitched voice, Caleb wails the title of the song in a fluttering tone of voice sure to nauseate anyone.

I love the Kings’ trademark sound to death, but for such a talented group of musicians I’m shocked that they can’t write better songs and fully capitalize on the southern bravado that they only demonstrate some of the time.

Key Tracks: "The Bucket", "Milk", "King Of The Rodeo"

Review #2: Chemical Brothers

The Chemical Brothers- “Push The Button”
(Astralwerks)
8 out of 10

Picture links to Chemical Brothers' website and was nicked from Amazon.com

I was quite excited when I heard the first single off “Push The Button”, “Galvanize”. The Chemical Brothers, a.k.a. Manchester, England big-beat veterans Ed Simons and Tom Rowlands, have created a sound for themselves, which I like to describe as an ornate, grandiose acid-house. But “Galvanize” was nothing like this. It was more of a hip-hop oriented track with a slight middle-eastern flavor and an impressive guest appearance from Q-Tip of A Tribe Called Quest. I loved it initially, but then I remembered it was a Chemical Brothers track. Wha?!?!?
My anticipation towards the release of “Push The Button” was fueled by this slight deception, yet at the same time I was afraid that the whole album would have this totally different feeling to it. Oh, did it ever. But, after a few listens, I discovered I had absolutely nothing to be scared of.
The album starts beautifully, with “Galvanize”, a jittery track called “The Boxer” featuring a spastic appearance from the Charlatans’ Tim Burgess, and the pumping rave anthem “Believe” featuring Kele Okereke of the much-hyped, up-and-coming UK band Bloc Party. Other gems on the album include the frisky “Come Inside”, quirky “The Big Jump”, and a surprisingly impressive slow-paced, vocally driven tune entitled “Close Your Eyes”. Another well-done middle eastern track is found in “Shake Break Bounce”, which is followed by a throwback to the Chems’ glory days, “Marvo Ging”, which just screams “Use me in a car ad ASAP! I’ll make anything seem cool!”
The effort’s not without it’s faults though. “Hold Tight London” is a snoozer, much like the album closer, “Surface To Air”. And I am just flat out embarrassed by “Left Right”, a political anthem with a tacky beat that relies heavily on guest rapper Anwar Superstar. It sounds sadly like it was produced by Jazze Pha or something. I guess some musicians are better off leaving political messages behind in their music.
The pluses outweigh the minuses heavily however, which leaves “Push The Button” as a pleasing listen for any electronica fan. If you’re looking to introduce yourself to the Chems, though, I would recommend much more 1997’s “Dig Your Own Hole” or maybe 1999’s “Surrender”.

Key Tracks: "Believe", "Close Your Eyes", "Marvo Ging"

The First Review

(Note: Welcome to my terrible blog! Let's start off with an uppity, ass-kissing review, shall we? Excuse the appearance for a while, by the way, i'm going to start off with some previously written reviews from which my upcoming piece in The Lancer Spirit will be modeled after...those two will be coming soon. But for the time being...Enjoy!)

Graham Coxon-“Happiness in Magazines”

(Transcopic/Astralwerks)

10 out of 10

Photo links to Graham Coxon's website and was nicked off Astralwerks' website

Graham Coxon was the guitarist in Blur. For some, this means an awful lot. It means that Graham Coxon was the guitar technician who flaunted his gear-geekish skills through 6 great albums from 1991 to 1999. Sadly though, for most, this daunting credential doesn’t mean much at all, specifically to about 95% of Americans. So, on “Happiness In Magazines”, Graham’s first solo effort to be widely released in the States thanks to indie ultra-label Astralwerks, Graham Coxon has a clean sheet to write on and a reputation that puts him back to square one in the U.S. of A. Things were not always so easy on the solo front for Graham. On four previous solo albums ranging from 1998 to 2002, Graham created a gritty low-fi sound that was loved by few other than himself. He had been viewed as an exclusively DIY artist, who may have stripped down his music in spite of Blur, who, in recording 2003’s Think Tank without him, were utilizing celebrity producers like Fatboy Slim and William Orbit. For “Happiness”, however, Graham brought back long-time Blur producer Stephen Street and created an effort on par with some of Blur’s most brilliant recordings. Coxon sheds his shy-guy image and plays pool-hustling axe master on tunes like the delightfully socialite “Don’t Be A Stranger”, the lady-killing “Spectacular” and “No Good Time”, and bouncy turn-it-up-to-11 punk anthems “Freakin’ Out”, “People Of The Earth”, and “Right To Pop” On the album, however, you still get the vulnerable, wallflower Graham, a role he also plays very well. He laments the loss of a woman he depends on heavily on the bluesy “Girl Done Gone”, daydreams on the serene tracks “All Over Me” and “Are You Ready”, and demonstrates exhaustion with his aggressive peers on the lighthearted “Bottom Bunk”. Coxon covers the full spectrum of his personality and creates an album full of clever songwriting and timeless melodies on “Happiness in Magazines”, an album that, in a perfect world, would be a rock classic. If you haven’t heard of Coxon, I would strongly recommend discovering him.

Key Tracks: "Freakin' Out", "Don't Be A Stranger", "People Of The Earth", "Right To Pop!"