Saturday, May 8, 2010

Review - Broken Social Scene's "Forgiveness Rock Record"


Version one a.k.a. unedited rambling:

Broken Social Scene might just be my favorite band. I became aware of them through their epic 2005 untitled/self-titled album, which separates me from the majority of other Broken Social Scene fans out there, most of whom first listened to BSS's You Forgot It In People. Nevertheless, I have been pretty obsessed with their music, tracking down Japanese import albums for bonus tracks, rare soundtracks, compilations, singles, etc. This is important because I came in to Forgiveness Rock Record with very high expectations. But I think that everyone came into FRR with expectations, and BSS knew that.

I didn't have expectations for either of the BSS Presents series: Kevin Drew's excellent Spirit If... and Brendan Canning's it-has-its-moments Something For All Of Us. I really didn't know what to expect these pseudo-solo albums to sound like, and as a result fell in love with each of them almost immediately. With FRR I had a definite idea of what BSS should sound like, and when the album didn't match up to that I was initially disappointed.

FRR starts of with the sprawling epic “World Sick”, which stylistically picks off right where their 2005 album ended (or where the Japanese release ended off, with the bonus track "All The Gods): epic builds, distorted guitars crashing left and right, horns blaring, unexpected shifts and changes. However, the vocals are much more brought out, most likely due to the shift of producers from long-time BSS veteran Dave Newfeld to indie-renown John McEntire. On their 2005 album, Dave Newfeld was for the first time listed both as a producer and as a member of BSS, and I sorely missed his presence on the first few listens. However, I realized FRR has a personality of its own, and it's not really fair to compare it to previous outputs.

For instance, I could complain that FRR isn't as cohesive as BSS's 2005 album, but part of what makes FRR unique is its variety. Following “World Sick”, BSS jumps all over the place: the driving dark and distorted “Chase Scene”, the insanely catchy “Texico Bitches”, the head-banging anthemic rocker “Forced To Love”, the constantly-moving dance-pop of “All to All”, the Apostle Of Hustle-inspired “Art House Director”, the laid-back instrumental “Highway Slipper Jam”, etc. FRR continually manages to surprise me.

That said, FRR has its weaknesses, one of which is the idiosyncratic “Ungrateful Little Father” whose ending tries too had to capture the same sonic wandering of of BSS's previous output. I don't think John McEntire was able to pull this one off, but I'm not sure Dave Newfeld would be able to either. Maybe it's just not that strong of a song, with BSS experimenting to stray from previous sounds while retaining similar aspects. I also noticed this in “Texico Bitches”; there's a really beautiful melody in the song that comes up near the end, but is only given a few seconds before it switches back to key-jangling pop. That moment reminds me a little of the spastic songs of BSS's previous record, lingering on the edge of chaos and collapse. If BSS were in a different place maybe they would have extended it and done more with it, but FRR isn't about what BSS used to be like, it's a representation of who they are now, and they really don't care what you think about it.

This is evident in the next track, “Meet Me in the Basement”. I initially criticized this for being too repetitive, merely an inferior version of “K.C. Accidental”. I still don't think it's that great a track, but BSS isn't concerned with making another “K.C. Accidental” or another YFIIP. This lends to both FRR's advantages and disadvantages. While I think BSS could have done a lot more with “Meet Me In The Basement” as they do in “K.C. Accidental”, tracks like “Sentimental X's” shine because of their originality; “Sentimental X's” really couldn't have fit on any previous BSS album.

FRR ends strong, but not before the potentially-confounding “Sweetest Kill”. I still don't know what to think of “Sweetest Kill”; it has the potential to be a very strong song, as can be heard in the live-recording of it that turned up a few years ago. At the same time it can sound like a bad mainstream radio-friendly pop song. BSS puts on an amazing live-show, and I'm sure “Sweetest Kill” would sound beautiful live, but I think the recording is over-produced to the point that it loses its authenticity; the recording sounds like it's not meant to be duplicated live.

“Romance To The Grave” is one my favorite songs of the record, and part of that is that it combines the sound FRR has built up to this point with similar sonic themes as their last record: the build-ups, wanderings, background vocals, and emotions of that record are all found on this song—and at times I wish all of FRR sounded like this.

“Water In Hell” reminds me (and apparently a lot of other reviewers) of Pavement, maybe a long-lost Spiral Stairs tune off “Wowee Zowee”, but it also reminds me of Brendan Canning's Something For All Of Us, and could probably fit in pretty well on that record.

“Me And My Hand” has been something many reviewers have attacked as being a lack-luster closing song. The first time you hear it, it can be puzzling; it's beautiful, but a stark contrast to the tune before it. I think a lot of other reviewers weren't sure whether it is meant to be a joke. After a few more listens you get past the words and realize Broken Social Scene is a band that can make you uncomfortable; they always find a way of surprising you, and challenging the assumptions you've made about them. But in the end they aren't making the records for you, they're recording because they love making music, and you can tell they had a great time writing and recording Forgiveness Rock Record.

-Sam

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Mark Linkous

I saw Sparklehorse live in 2007 after a couple years of waiting, and it was perfect. The first of two encores opened with a version of “Gold Day” that saw most of the audience singing along to create one of the best moments I’ve ever had at a concert. It’s a total cliche, but Linkous’ work really got me through a lot.

I think most of his songs were about the quiet moments that followed the loud and terrible moments in your life, and that’s really when you listen to music. Artists who write about those moments tend to get self-pitying and self-indulgent, but none of Sparklehorse's music was anything like that. Mark was really just a beautiful person.


All of his albums were great, but the one that sticks out to me most is "It's A Wonderful Life." It hit me when I was a junior in high school, just before it's follow-up came out. The album's title track was supposedly Mark's response to critics who found his music overwhelmingly depressing without any bright spots. But he had bright spots. They were blurry, but they were there, and that album always pulls you out just before it all gets too dark. "More Yellow Birds" will probably make me tear up for the rest of my life, now. The title track of "Dreamt For Lightyears In The Belly Of A Mountain" already did.

One of the big things people talk about with Sparklehorse is how long the waits were in between albums. Rolling Stone says he was close to finishing an album for Anti-. I hope it comes out. After that, though, there won't be any new Sparklehorse. It's going to be tough to find somebody to fill the place that Mark Linkous' music had in my life. It's not that he was my favorite artist or that he changed me in any signficant way, it's just that he occupied a unique place in my music collection. I don't really know that I want anybody to fill that place.

Rest in peace, Mark Linkous. Thanks for making everything a little easier to understand.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Walkmen at 9:30 Club (set to be printed in The Eagle, American University's student paper)

For ten seconds in the middle of The Walkmen’s performance of “All Hands & The Cook” during their September 22 show at the 9:30 Club, singer Hamilton Leithauser arched his back, gripped his microphone, and clearly defined every vein in his neck as he held a single note in the middle of the lyric “If you don’t like it, won’t you tell me?” The phrase “ten seconds” is often used as shorthand for “no time at all,” and in most situations, such a short moment cannot hold any significance, but screaming in Leithauser’s sore-throated, somehow suave rasp for ten entire seconds is a feat. He had the stage presence of an angry Frank Sinatra. Guitarist Paul Maroon quietly played his instrument under Leithauser’s yell as the audience cheered on, using their loudness to reach a place of joy as the singer was using his to express frustration. At second eleven, the rest of the band, filled out by drummer Matt Barrick and alternating bassist/organists Peter Bauer and Walter Martin, started playing again. Leithauser took a breath.

The moment, contained within a tense song from The Walkmen’s 2006 album “A Hundred Miles Off,” was rare in its anger. While the band made its name on more aggressive songs like “Little House of Savages” and “The Rat,” Tuesday’s show highlighted music from last year’s “You & Me”— their quietest work so far. That album was partly recorded at the legendary Sun Studio in Memphis, Tennessee, former home of Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison, and nearly every other major rock act of the 1950s. It, and the four or five new songs played at the show, took most of its inspiration from Orbison’s back catalogue, where the slow songs are about staying up through the night trying to convince yourself that you are better off without her and the fast songs are about knowing that you are better off.

“Thinking of a Dream I Had,” an early career track usually defined by its galloping drums and paper shredder-tuned guitar, was significantly settled down for the show; while the drumming stayed furious, the guitar hit a soft, dreamy reverb. During the band’s summer, 2008 tour, Leithauser picked up his own electric guitar during the song to complement Maroon’s, but now a single guitar plays lower in the mix than the bass. In other words, it was adapted into The Walkmen’s new style.

That isn’t a knock, though. “You & Me” songs like “Red Moon” and “Canadian Girl,” reached slower tempos, but expressed as much regret and longing as anything that The Walkmen have ever turned up to ten. These songs, as well as a small number from “A Hundred Miles Off,” were complemented by a four-piece horn section made up of three trumpets and a trombone. One of the trumpeters was later introduced as Leithauser’s wife, and during “Red Moon,” he swayed back and forth while watching her; he was playing an acoustic guitar as she trumpeted in a dual serenade.

Last year’s relatively new material does have edge, but it appears in smaller quantities. “On The Water” opened with muffled instrumentals before taking off as Maroon brought his guitar from wandering to immediate and one of the trumpeters went crazy on a triangle pressed against a microphone. Second song of the night “In The New Year’s” chorus led the majority of the audience to sing along and revel in the optimism of lyrics like “I don’t see the bad times and I never will” while Leithauser’s face turned red from screaming and the fingers he was using to hold his microphone all twitched wildly from their knuckles.

Though the band formed in New York City and is currently based there and in Philadelphia, every member grew up in Washington, and Leithauser noted at the beginning and end how happy he was to play at home. During the encore, a middle-aged man made his way to the edge of the stage, called the singer’s name, and, after Leithauser recognized him, shook his hand. Moments like this created a feeling that the band was giving its former hometown a present, and that a show this good could only occur in Washington.

And yes, they played “The Rat” during the encore and everybody rocked out.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Yo La Tengo Concert Review: 9/17/09, 9:30 Club, Washington (Originally Posted To TheEagleOnline.com)

One of the great ironies of Yo La Tengo is how little they have changed as a band in the seventeen years since James McNew signed on as bassist, but how incredibly wide their range has become. Thursday’s set at the 9:30 Club showed off this range, covering the quiet, late-night introspection of 2000’s “And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out,” the heavy, near-psychedelic qualities of new album opener “Here To Fall,” and the stripped down covers that have consistently shown up in Yo La Tengo’s shows and albums since their original, McNew-less 1986 inception. Ira Kaplan still burst into long-but-never-too-long guitar solos; Georgia Hubley still played the drums better than she will ever receive credit for.

The lack of change to the trio’s set-up has been a boon if anything, leading to near-psychic connections between the band mates: When Kaplan turned the normally succinct “Let’s Save Tony Orlando’s House” into an extended jam, McNew and Hubley did not miss a beat, continuing the song and playing off of their guitarist’s improvisations, and when Kaplan made a passing reference to the group’s hometown of Hoboken and his marriage to Hubley in between songs, it was acknowledged that if you had paid to see Yo La Tengo, you were probably familiar with their history.

As is the case on their albums, Hubley and Kaplan’s voices were often overtaken by their instruments. Even during quieter, sparer songs like “Autumn Sweater,” where the only noises come from two drummers and an organ, Kaplan’s vocals were mixed so low that it was easy to wonder whether or not he was still singing. The decision to keep the vocals low seemed like a defense mechanism at times, especially when Kaplan was whispering out lyrics like “I try my best to hide in the crowded room; it’s nearly impossible.” When his more aggressive work kicked in during initial set closer “Pass the Hatchet, I Think I’m Goodkind,” though, there was no question that Kaplan was capable of being heard when he wanted to be.

Surprisingly, when James McNew sang lead vocals in a falsetto familiar to fans of his solo project, Dump, he was able to rise above the instrumentation, as was displayed during a cover of Black Flag’s “Nervous Breakdown.”

While the first half of the band’s two hour set was heavy on songs led by organ, the back half brought out Kaplan’s guitar hero ferocity, with highlights in the classic “Tom Courtenay” and “Sugarcube,” which was introduced with 30 seconds of random noise by each band member before revealing itself to be Yo La Tengo’s highest charting single and the song that tried to turn the band into a radio sensation. The song is still catchy ten years on, and when the small guitar solos that punctuate the chorus broke out, McNew was clearly smiling. “Sugarcube” led one man in the front row to take his earplugs out. If you’re going to lose your hearing, there are much worse soundtracks to a deafening than a Yo La Tengo song.

Toward the end, Hubley came out from behind her drum kit to play acoustic guitar, a move that Kaplan said was “quickly becoming [his] favorite part of the show.” It was clear that there was affection amongst the band members. The evidence was in every one of Kaplan’s smiles to his wife and in every nod to McNew that signified the introduction of an eight minute solo.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Review - Beheaded by Bedhead



I'm writing this to tell you about an album I'm really enjoying. It is "Beheaded" by the band Bedhead. Maybe you've already heard of it/them, maybe you haven't. Either way I'm going to go ahead and overwrite the hell out of this recommendation

Bedhead were a 90s indie rock band, sometimes perhaps unfairly called slow-core. I say this because I don't really know how anyone can get excited over a genre called slow-core. The singer's voice is subdued and reminds me a little of Ira Kaplan ofYo La Tengo, and I think if you like YLT you'll like Bedhead as well.

At the recommendation of one of my favorite blogs I checked out their first album, "WhatFunLifeWas", and while I liked it I was a bit disappointed. It seemed a little too simple, relying on the same predictable dynamic shifts. There were a few good tracks on it, but as a whole I didn't think it was that special.

I found their third album at a used record store, and while I liked that it was more polished, and I thought the songs were well-written, it sounded a bit tired and didn't have that something to make it great.

Flash forward to a week ago, and I decided to try out their second album, "Beheaded". I hadn't listened to it earlier because I thought any album that's a pun on the band's name isn't going to be that good. I was wrong.

It's darker than Bedhead's other efforts, and than those the band that rose from Bedhead's ashes, The New Year, write. But it definitely has a kind of originality the other albums lack; from the opening track I could tell this was different from the other Bedhead I'd heard. It can be depressing and bleak, but I'm unaware of any albums like it.

The next track is reminiscent of the first Bedhead album, gradually getting louder and more intense. A little predictable, but he climax is rewarding and better than most of the songs on WhatFunLifeWas.

There are a few tracks in here, that while are not necessarily throw-away tracks, aren't as strong as the album highlights. But seven out of 11 tracks being great are some pretty good percentages. And seven is a safe estimate.

The lyrics also seem better this time around, but it could be that they're just easier to hear. Or maybe it's just the way the singer pulls off the lyrics that makes me want to find a lyrics sheet, that makes it hard to ignore the meaning of the words coming out of his mouth.

In addition to the first track, "Smoke", "Roman Candle", "Withdraw" and "Lares And Penates" are worth you listening to this album. "Withdraw" is probably the most accessible, so if you need to preview a track I'd check out that one. However, "Lares and Penates" is my personal favorite at the moment. But honestly every track is an enjoyable listen.

So if you're looking for a quiet and depressing but beautiful album, give Beheaded a go.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Kanye West Is Doing It

If you were at all keen on Kanye West, I hope you stayed away from Facebook and Twitter for the past week. Every third status update revolved around how evil West was for taking time away from Taylor Swift's acceptance speech at the MTV Video Music Awards, and the comments attached to these posts always carried something to the effect of "WHAT A JERK I HATE HIM!"

And I understand the feelings behind this, but I love Kanye West.

For the sake of getting it out of the way early, I'll mention upfront that I don't care about the VMAs or Taylor Swift. You know who had the best music video of the year? Dinosaur Jr. You know who deserved to win instead of Taylor Swift? Whoever actually directed and produced the video that her song played behind.

This doesn't mean that she didn't deserve her time to shine-- it isn't Swift's fault that the VMAs need recognizable faces to deliver speeches, and it's clear that J Mascis won't ever hit the spotlight again the way he did when his band was at the height of their fame with "Feel The Pain," and MTV has to reflect that in their awards shows.


What this means is that I don't find West's interruption to be an open sore on the face of MTV the way the rest of my peers do.

Still, it's rude as hell. We have our new King of All Rock Stars.

A few years ago, Spin Magazine declared Marilyn Manson to be the last American rock star. We had lost our Motley Crues and Diamond Daves, but we still had Manson, and he was going to be the hero who decided to take a helicopter ride to a super-model's house at 4 a.m. He was going to show up to every press event drunk and pass out with his hands on an interviewer's breasts. He was going to marry and divorce the same woman four times over the course of a year.

The problem with this is that Manson is too obsessed with how he is perceived. During interviews, he's always sure to make shocking comments apropos of nothing. Sometimes he's happy that the US dropped atomic bombs on Japan, sometimes he stops the interview cold to usher in whoever he's dating and then proceed to make out with that person in front of the interviewer. He wants the attention and never stops trying to attain it. Axl Rose didn't become a recluse because he wanted the paparazzi to camp outside of his mansion; Ozzy Osbourne didn't drink Nikki Sixx's urine with the intent to publish a book about the event later. For a rock star to be truly interesting, he has to say and do things that happen because he just has some inherent feeling that he must say and do them.


The problem with such wild spontaneity is the consequences. When Vince Neil went on a weeks-long bender, his adventure ended in the deaths of three people. Neil delivered a public apology, but at the end of the day, everybody had to remember that three people had died.

When West loses his mind, the only damage done is inflicted upon West. And the apologies are the best part. After the Taylor Swift incident, West exclaimed that he felt "LIKE BEN STILLER IN "MEET THE PARENTS" WHEN HE MESSED UP AND ROBERT DENIRO ASKED HIM TO LEAVE." In another blog apology, West expressed regret over his actions, followed by this statement, addressed to Swift: "YOU ARE VERY VERY TALENTED!!!!!!! I GAVE MY AWARDS TO OUTKAST OVER ME WHEN THEY DESERVED IT OVER ME... THAT'S WHAT IT IS!!!!!!!! I'M NOT CRAZY YALL. I'M JUST REAL."

In the process of apologizing, West implied that Swift should have given her award to competitor Beyonce because Swift should have recognized that the video made for her song was inferior to the one for Beyonce's. BRILLIANT YALL. Even in his apologies, he can't help but put her down.

West is also head and shoulders above his peers because he is a loud personality in music when loud personalities are diminishing in number. Thom Yorke of Radiohead does not want to be cool and believes that he is not accepted by those who are, nobody really knows what the guys in Daft Punk look like, and if a member of Nickelback was to sit down next to you on the Metro, you wouldn't know him from your plumber. These are the biggest bands of our generation.

Kanye West's explosions are fascinating, Kanye West's attempts at redemption are fascinating, Kanye West's periods of relative silence are fascinating (like today, when he used his blog to post five pictures of high-design chairs and then delete three of them). Kanye West is our rock star. Kanye West is doing it.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Sam's Top Ten Shows

I wrote this a while ago, and looking through old stuff decided to update it, and then decided it was the kind of thing that could be posted on a music blog.

Sam's top 11 shows of all time so far :
1. Broken Social Scene @ Showbox Sodo in Seattle
2. Kaki King @ the Attic in Santa Cruz
3. The Arcade Fire @ The Greek Theatre in Berkeley
4. Beirut @ the Grand Ballroom in San Francisco
5. Deerhunter @ Nuemo's in Seattle
6. Beach House @ Bimbo's 365 Club in San Francisco
7. Broken Social Scene/Two Gallants @ The Greek Theatre in Berkeley
8. The National @ The Moore in Seattle
9. Kaki King @ Outside Lands in San Francisco
10. Islands @ Bimbo's 365 Club in San Francisco
11. Lucy Michelle and the Velvet Lapelles @ The Den in Tacoma

And the honorable mention goes to Built To Spill @ the Pitchfork Music Festival in Chicago