Radiation4 – S/T EP

“There is no meaning to Radiation4 in itself, it is merely a vessel. It was created to bring about something greater than us all. It is everything and nothing; the erratic dynamic of our lives translated into crystalline sound. A single candle in a dark room and the shadows it casts that dance on the walls. Strong emotions and the last supernatural world. Childhood memories, lifetime imprints, dreams and daydreams, what we know and what we hope for… The One True Thing.” – From the Radiation4 web site
Sometimes music can just grab your attention with one note, or scream in this instance. Radiation 4 is amazing, an odd mixture of melodic hardcore and noisecore that makes you fall in love with it from the first song to the last.
They’re a relatively new band, formed in February of this year in Diamond Bar, Calif., and it’s amazing that a band this recently formed can sound this professional. They’re intricate, complex, horribly dissonant, pissed off as hell, and yet there’s a hint of melody that bands like From Autumn to Ashes, A Long Winter, and Hopes Fall are using in hardcore to make something other than drop D moshcore. Their odd tempos, time changes put them in a hardcore fraternity with the likes of Coalesce, Dillinger Escape Plan, and Cave-in.
The EP starts off with “The Only Good Experiment is a Dead One”; it’s weird, eerie, freakish, and damn good. Their use of their two guitarists is nothing short of genius. And the drummer should be given a medal for being able to play that fast – the drums sound like artillery, pounding away at your ears. The vocals are frightening, switching between a vocal vibration effect to a shrieking that fits the music amazingly well, only to switch to a growl that makes the windows shake and my parents cringe.
The CD continues like this: amazing, frightening, addictive, and seductive. The musicianship is completely mind-blowing, and I have a feeling this CD will not be far from my CD player for quite a while. If Radiation4 can do this in 10 months, I am excited to see what they can do as they mature as a band.

The Soundtrack of Our Lives – Behind the Music

One of the recent threads on the DOA message board dealt with the comparison between the rock of the 60′s and 70′s and what has become of it today. We debated whether bands were better those days or merely appear better by virtue of decades hearing the same songs and adapting to them. There’s no doubt that rock has evolved and been pushed in new directions. But not all of today’s bands are so willing to put aside the influences of The Who, The Rolling Stones, and Iggy Pop.

The Swedish sextet The Soundtrack of Our Lives have named this, their third full-length album, Behind the Music, and it’s clear that what’s behind the music is 30 years of British and American classic rock. You can namedrop all the stalwarts, from the Stones and Who to MC5 and Iggy Pop. Done up in a great big radio-friendly sound, on the surface The Soundtrack of Our Lives sound like they’re rehashing old favorites. But it’s below the surface, on the multiple listen, that you realize these guys have added more hooks than even those catchy old rock favorites had, and they layer in unique instrumentation from sitar and mellotron to horns and strings and just lush backing harmonies.

“Infra Riot” starts things off, and it’s easy to overlook the accordion and soft keys that provide a stellar backdrop to an otherwise straight-forward Detroit-rock-city track of bouncy hooks and emphatic vocals. And “Sister Surround,” excepting the bluesy snarl of Mick Jagger, has a Stones- and Who-like feel that can’t be denied. Perhaps a bit more poppy and hooky, this song is undeniably the best track on this catchy album. A bit more old-style Stooges, “21st Century Rip Off” even has some of the society indignation of those early punk bands. A bit of the MC5 era style and groove comes in with “Keep the Line Movin’,” and the ripping guitar solos of “Independent Luxury” are vintage Neil Young and Crazy Horse. “Still Aging” brings to mind The Who and even Dylan, much more acoustic and folk-leaning, while “The Flood” goes off on an up-tempo, jangling psychedelic rock track that’s surprisingly well done.

At times, the band has their own unique sound, especially on the quieter tracks. Dabbling with bits of Nick Drake and Red House Painters only done more poppy, “In Someone Else’s Mind” is a quiet, lovely track with some spacey guitar, and the organ-filled “Broken Imaginary Time” has a more modern, alternative feel. Piano and acoustic guitar make the framework to the stellar “Mind the Gap,” which reminds me of a Sugar song, even in the vocals. The purely poppy “Nevermore” does draw from 80′s British pop with light piano and acoustic guitar, but it has a more modern feel, and it’s another favorite here.

This band clearly knows its influences and isn’t ashamed to wear them on their sleeves. Yeah, the 60′s and 70′s rocked. There were so many good bands back then, and you can’t let that die out by always going in new directions. But The Soundtrack of Our Lives adds their own twist to that style and does it well. Still, after the first few listens, I’m left more fond of their own, more unique songs. Maybe it shows why I don’t still listen to the classic rock station in town.

Rocky Votolato – Burning My Travels Clean

Rocky Votolato has stepped forward as one to watch among indie-rock’s singer/songwriters. Aside from his now four solo releases that include last year’s mini-release A Brief History and previous year’s Rocky Votolato & Seth Warren CDEP and the self-titled Rocky Votolato debut release, Rocky has also been contributing his talent as singer/guitarist for Waxwing and drummer for Kentucky Pistol. With a family to care for and full-time job, it’s amazing that Rocky has time at all to write poignant songs that are heartfelt and humanistic, masterfully crafted, and sung with distinct emotion. Matt Bayles, who is probably better known for his work with Pearl Jam, Botch, Murder City Devils, and Hayden, has again hooked up with Votolato to produce and record Burning My Travels Clean. The result is a much anticipated and finally found recording of an artist whose inclination for song and lyric is only now being realized by a greater majority of listeners. Just finishing a rather successful tour opening for Dashboard Confessional doesn’t hurt either.
The opening track, “Crabtree and Evelyn,” has the listener thinking that Rocky, despite his cool appearance on the album’s cover, is not afraid to express love for a woman. Floating easily above a clean recording of acoustic guitar, Dan Dean’s rolling snare drum rhythm, and Morgan Henderson’s bass guitar, Rocky sings, “A world that’s cracking and leaking all around me / I can spend my day knowing my love for my lady / Every song we hear, was written just for you and for me / We can show up late and leave early.”
Born and raised in Texas until age 14 when he then found himself in the Northwest area that he today calls home, there is only the slightest drawl in his voice that marks its distinction. So when Kevin Suggs’ pedal steel, Seth Warren’s Violin, Janes Mendenhall’s Piano, or Roseanne Thomas’ complimenting backup vocal slips in seamlessly, there is something that reflects a bit of western Americana. This is especially heard on “Don’t Walk Out on Me,” which I imagine also finds Rocky’s younger brother and fellow Waxwing member, Cody Votolato, offering a bit of extra electric guitar. Really though, it’s a style of music that can find comparison with Mark Kozelek and his Rock’ N’ Roll Singer, Bill Janovitz’s Lonesome Billy, or even Jay Farrar and his recent Sebastopol release. However unrealized comparisons usually end up being, there is certainly a rather different comparison now then to the Elliot Smith one that Rocky was tagged with on earlier releases.
Burning My Travels Clean is a recording of Rocky Votolato maturing. Playing for an increased audience and stepping out on his own with noted distinction, the busy artist has added again to an ever growing an increasingly significant discography that should be heard.

(The Real) Tuesday Weld – I Love the Rain 7"

(The Real) Tuesday Weld is London’s Stephen Coates, an artist who is unabashedly in love with 50′s movie music and great big vinyl sounds. His songs evoke those days – to some, the good old days – only with a modern touch. With bouncy, playful beats, plenty of light keyboards, and songs you can actually dance to, all with Coates’ rich vocals overtop, his songs are fun yet sentimental at the same time. And always delightful.
“I Love the Rain,” taken from (The Real) Tuesday Weld’s full-length album, When Cupid Meets Psyche, here sounds a bit more moody and slower. The bouncy beats and carnival-like keyboards provide a nice backdrop to Coates’ deep, rich vocals. The song is clearly playful, to go with the playful lyrics, and Coates shows off an affinity for vinyl. This is the kind of release that could have come out on vinyl in the 50′s, to some degree – at least, that’s where he’s basing much of his music. Done with a modern touch, this song is something of a classic already.
“(I’m Still in Love with) Paula Wilcox” is much more modern of a sound, and hence it likely would have sounded a bit out of place on the Tuesday Weld full-length. With an electronic beat, up-tempo and throbbing with bass and light keyboards, Coates sings the chorus and speaks the verses in a kind of rant/rap style that’s clever and fun. This is the most modern thing I’ve heard Coates do, something that still draws from his love of early music but also shows his knowledge of modern electronic elements as well. Tacked on at the end is a short instrumental, “Amelia Earhart Blue,” that could have come out of accompaniment for an early silent movie. Light acoustic guitar and organ give it a softly flowing feel, and you can easily imagine people dancing on the screen in black and white.
Coates is an undeniably stellar artist. The production on this 7″ is superb, giving these songs a rich feel. His voice takes the focus, but the music – light, airy, and fun – provides the perfect accompaniment. On this 7″, he shows off two sides to his music: the playful 50′s influence and the more modern approach. This should be required for any fan of (The Real) Tuesday Weld’s music.

Haymarket Riot – Bloodshot Eyes

Yet another rock band from Chicago. But these guys sound like they could be from DC, maybe even DC of a few years ago, when the post-punk thing was really taking off. Bands like Fugazi come to mind immediately, as do some of the bands that members of Haymarket Riot have played in, including Gauge and Traluma.
The herky-jerky rhythms of DC bands like Faraquet and Q and Not U are especially evident on Bloodshot Eyes. Couple that with the kind of shouted/sung Fugazi style, and then add in a slightly more melodic guitar approach for a good example of what these guys sound like. Undoubtedly fast and catchy, loud without ever being completely chaotic, Haymarket Riot rock like their name.
After the playful opening, “Technicolor Bombs” is all high-speed guitars, herky-jerky rhythms, and shouted vocals, emphatic and driving yet not out of control. A bit more straightforward, “Tasting a Good Movie” sounds more familiar to the Chicago power-pop style I know. This isn’t pop, but the song has more hooks in it and more restraint, at times even getting soft and kind of pretty. One of the band’s best songs, the throbbing bass-lines of “Placid” lead into shouted argument-style vocals and a heady approach. This song kicks ass, almost literally. “(The) Fight” shows off the band’s penchant for contrasting moments of mid-tempo, more melodic music with moments of sheer all-out rock, and they lean closer to their hardcore roots on songs like the abrasive “Conduit Alarm.” One of their least cohesive and most unique tracks, “Immaculate” sounds rough and unsteady while at the same time sounding emotional and powerful. That’s contrasted with the much more traditionally punky “Bought Your Weight.”
The only real fault to this band are the lyrics. Lines like “I got my ass kicked (on Saturday) at the roller rink” in “Castor Oil” and “Let’s surf the river. The waves are bigger” from “Wax!” are delivered in the band’s emphatic shouting style. Unlike the more social commentary approach of the band’s contemporaries, this comes out sounding rather banal.
Still, rather than faulting the band for their lyrics, I’ll admit that this is a fine, powerful rock album. The kids are going to dig this stuff. It’s not especially original in the midst of a million Fugazi wanna-bes, likely that many in Chicago alone, but it’s catchy and high-powered and extremely tight, with some fantastic guitar and rhythm, and that’s good enough for me.

Flare – Definitive CD Single

Progressing beyond their self-professed “chamber-pop” style, Flare shows great growth and development on this three-song CD single, released to be reminiscent of old-style 12-inch singles and hence feeling very familiar both in sound and design to those releases. The ever-evolving New York City project Flare features this time around singer and multi-musician LD Beghtol, Jon De Rosa (also of Aarktica and Dead Leaves Rising), Charles Newman on pianos and assorted instruments, Mark Gunderman on violin, and special help from John Wesley Harding on vocals and Ida’s Ida Pearle on violin.
If you have yet to hear the delightful orchestrated pop sounds of Flare, prepare to be surprised – not by the music itself but by how much you enjoy music this sophisticated. Dreamy, soft, vibrant pop music drawing from the 70′s and 80′s as well as modern pop, Flare use a host of instruments and gorgeous, sparkling vocals and harmonies to make music that will make you swoon. Beauty and precision are the trademarks of this delightful band, and again they showcase their talents on this short but fun CD.
“Definitive” may be their most pop track to date, and at times the band almost sounds like they’re apologizing for it. Clearly, this is one of their best songs ever. A song about a romantic triangle and indecision, the layers of gorgeous guitar, keys, violin, and multiple vocal harmonies create a swirl of absolutely, unabashedly pop music. “You never asked for much, just books and a fire and a tire swing. You never asked for much, just a ball of string and a promise ring,” Beghtol sings in his gorgeous vocals. The violins add the perfect touch to this song.
“Course” has for a long time been only available on an obscure Italian compilation. Designed here as “the NYC Eagle Memorial Mix,” this ultra-quiet song shows off the band’s more slow-core style. Quiet and lovely, with vocals following soft strings and drawn out keys, the song has a haunting and desperate feel. They finish with “You’re the Only Star (In My Blue Heaven),” a Gene Autry cowboy classic replicated here with just a lonesome ukulele and Beghtol’s and De Rosa’s fantastic harmony. Stark and fitting to the song for sure.
Another sampling of lovely music from this unique project, Flare showcase their penchant for pure pop as well as their own originality and quieter, more contemplative side. Each new release by this band finds them fitting even better with my always evolving musical taste. Fans of lovely pop music will have to seek them out.

Explosions in the Sky – Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Live Forever

The unfortunately named Explosions in the Sky feature cover art of an angel “blessing” an airplane, with the doom-impending words that the airplane will crash tomorrow on the back. The album was released mere weeks before the September 11 crashes, and again I’m left wondering how long it will take the tragic events of that day to leave our collective consciousness. Don’t frown upon Explosions in the Sky, for their name was chosen long before that day.
Their music, however, is strangely fitting. A combination of explosive, somewhat chaotic instrumental rock, this Texas quartet plays some very powerful rock. They claim their influences as 80′s metal and goth-rock, but fans of current instrumental rockers like Mogwai and Cerberus Shoal will appreciate this talented band. Unlike those bands, however, Explosions in the Sky have a more visceral rock approach, led by layers of melodic guitars and great, vibrant drums. You couldn’t put lyrics to these songs, but they firmly fit into the rock category, lofted into originality by explosive climaxes and swirling atmospherics.
The opening “Greet Death” builds to an explosive, driving climax at merely the two-minute mark before fading into quiet, murmured guitar, leading back up to a crashing summit of drums and melodic layers of guitar. Even more explosive, “Yasmin the Light” virtually assaults you with driving guitars and emphatic, powerful drumming, all over an absolutely gorgeous guitar line, but like most songs on this release, the track fades quickly into silence, left to flow in a soft, textured manner and then build again, almost as a living, organic thing.
That’s the way this band works. Songs are left to ebb and flow, building and then falling off to build again. But there are more calm, peaceful moments here. In the 10-minute “Moon is Down,” the lengthy introduction is a lovely piece of quiet rock. Even when the drums come in, it continues to flow nicely. “Have You Passed Through This Night?” actually has vocals, but they’re so soft, whispered deep into the music, that they might as well be another element of the instrumentation. This song is the perfect example of the band’s progression from extremely soft to all-out blazing rock, then ending silent to begin “Poor Man’s Memory.” This song contains some of the most extreme rock on the album, full-out guitars and drums, but only briefly again. And the closer, the 12-minute “With Tired Eyes, Tired Minds, Tired Souls, We Slept,” has some of the best guitar effects and layering on the entire album.
The name Explosions in the Sky is fitting for this band. Their music soars, filled with lofty guitar lines and layers of atmospherics. And their songs explode, often hitting their climax several times in a single song, building and dropping off. It’s an interesting course that you must follow with each lengthy sound. And while it’s not the most original style anymore, it’s done here with incredible precision and passion.

The Apes – Atlanta – The Earl, GA – 2001-12-05

On this unseasonably warm December night in the Dirty South, two roving groups of unscrupulous carpet-baggers hosted an exhibition of rock’n'roll musical vim and vigor that will hopefully prove to have had a resuscitative impact upon this city’s moribund joke of a rock-jive scene. In most regards, including both matters musical and showmanship related, the Apes and Les Savy Fav each present viable modes for rock glory, arguing implicitly that, despite the claims of many a blowhard and the lifeless demonstrations by much of today’s dispiriting rock groups, the fucking beautiful and ridiculous retardation of rock is not yet extinct.

Bands young and old alike can look to the terribly amazing shenanigans of both the Apes and Les Savy Fav to find routes out of the stultifying doldrums that have long plagued the rock markets of Atlanta and, to a lesser degree, the whole damn world at large. Yeah! But let’s look at each group separately, now, why don’t we. The Apes (of Washington, DC) have a love-hate relationship with the skulls of their audience. Without skulls, their audience would most likely not exist, and yet the Apes attempt to bash the hell out of them anyway. You’d think they would recognize this fundamental quandary, being oh so clever rock stars and all, but really, nobody ever said apes were intelligent or anything. But yes, these Apes overpowered the gradually growing listening audience with their sludgy power-swamp-rock, coming off like a Screamers – Sonics – Swingin’ Medallions genetic mix-up from the wrong side of the Potomac.

Their no-guitar rock compositions, as featured on the splendid debut LP The Fugue in the Fog (Frenchkiss Records), get their ferocity quotient upped significantly when performed in a live setting. The bass player banged on his distorted li’l missus, apparently playing musical notes, and spraying forth a thick lather of the heavy amniotic fluid of right-minded rock. The organist and drummer added heft and gravitas to this stew, providing a solid underpinning of craziness just tempered enough for the singer-man to occasionally shout over in between posing and prancing about. This singing fellow’s bursting forth butterfly-like from a sleeping bag after song one, resplendent in wool cape and sunglasses, reminded this on-looker of that day in fucking History when that peculiar she-gypsy first informed young Theodore Roosevelt of the monumental reputation he would gradually forge in the sacrosanct realm of international dock-walloping. Just as at that moment anyone with eyes that saw and cried and loved could tell that these fiery-maned young upstarts have what it takes to be brilliantly misunderstood, and embarrassingly overlooked.

So the Apes finished up and moved their equipment off the stage and then got off the stage themselves and went into the back or to the bathroom or merchandise counter or wherever and graciously conceded the spotlight to their tour-mates and label-bosses Les Savy Fav. Les Savy Fav are the Oregon Vortex. They’re the disappearance of David Lang and the Polleys of Dakota and the cop statue at Haymarket Square and the Long John Silver’s parking lot in which Leo Frank was strung up for being all sorts of non-Southern. They tell you what you think you should think about them and then tell you that what you think is wrong. They smile and look you in the eye while stealing your little girlfriend. They date a former Harley Spaulding. They never give it to you straight but they’re never anything less than utterly sincere. Or maybe not, I don’t know, I just know they make good music sometimes, and occasionally take to the Dwight D. Eisenhower roadway system to perform this good music in the presence of old strangers.

So Les Savy Fav sauntered out and played their rock instruments in an enjoyable fashion, utilizing them to construct before my very senses rock songs of an unusual quality and of generally surprising construction. They lead one to expect one thing, and then deliver another, superior thing. Let’s make the Pere Ubu reference, not so much in sound per se as in intelligent confusion-mongering and high-concept front man antics.

Give LSF’s singer the edge in nigh-embarrassing yet awesomely entertaining tomfoolery; however; recall Dave Thomas’ erudition and distinctive vocalizing, breed it with Bob Pollard’s on-stage rock generalship, and then add a penchant for floor-based populist interaction, and you’ll have a very bare-bones mental approximation of Tim Harrington’s memorable and commendable method of working the crowd. He makes like Bono at Red Rocks in a smoke-filled, beer-streaked backroom in front of a hundred people, holding aloft the bloody red flag of fill-in-the-blank symbolism, and marching embarrassingly enough to not be embarrassed. He is quite simply incredible. Of course, his shenanigans could not glow were it not for the top-notch tune-smithery of this band-mates. Choosing a good mix of songs old and new, from their latest LP Go Forth, their fantastic Rome (Written Upside Down) EP, and back to their earlier releases, the group’s music stands apart from most similarly branded independent rock organizations. Frequently minimal in terms of musical “business,” these songs tend to impress with their unusual arrangements and general stick-to-it-ive-ness. Les Savy Fav sounds quite unlike most bands, and even the groups that could be viewed as sporadically accurate comparisons – such as Pere Ubu, Fugazi, or Polvo – don’t exactly fit
snugly into the role. Les Savy Fav are unique for this day in age in that they are a rock group that creates unique yet decidedly rocking rock music. They also kick the ever-lovin’ shit out of Radiohead.

So yes, overall, this pairing of rock ‘n’ roll bands led to a wholly satisfying experience. In a god-damned crazy world so fucked up people can’t even make good rock music anymore, the impact and importance of this show is increased almost past the breaking point. On this one gleaming night, we good people of Atlanta actually had good-looking bands to watch and good music to listen to while getting drunk for no good reason. And really, there’s little else one could ask for these days. So forgive one man his humble opinion and his unnecessary verbal extravagances, and witness these groups in person whenever they play your local bingo hall or dank flooded basement. Thank you.

Norm Burns – Our Thanksgiving Blessings Are Great

Norm Burns was one of the many people employed as a studio musician by labels that recorded and released song-poems. Song poems were written by random citizens that for whatever reason would like to see their (often insane) lyrics put to music and performed by “professionals.” This often included lush and cheesy 30-piece orchestras and any one of the vocalists who recorded under a variety of assumed names. Sometimes the producers of these songs would pump out as many as 12 per hour (for a modest fee of course). Since these songs were produced primarily for the people who wrote them, they have become some of the most obscure and sought-after record oddities available. Also, because the companies received most of their income from the “poets” who submitted work to them, they were willing to put damn near anything to a musical accompaniment. The results are sometimes ludicrous and disturbing, but always fascinating.

Penned by Lew and Shirley Tobin (who owned the Sterling label that originally released this single), “Our Thanksgiving Blessings Are Great” would just recently have been viewed as kitchy and amusing, much like teen-scare films such as “Reefer Madness.” Life during wartime changes all of this. The fundamentalist patriotism pushed to comical extremes here suddenly sounds kind of familiar. Norm Burns’ voice – a piercing hybrid of Johnny Cash and Billy Graham – is produced with a slight delay, which sounds strange when he sings and outright frightening during his spoken interludes. Reinforcing his enraptured delusions, a disciplined regiment of snares, piano, and guitar march in tight circles behind Burns’ earnest recitations. Here, enlivened by song, is the mythology of Midwest: pilgrims, freedom, and saintly generosity – the magnanimous offspring of our manifest destiny. With stomach now wedged securely between table and chair, pools of gravy solidifying on our plates, we now have a new anthem to celebrate our gluttony as we cautiously shovel in a third piece of luke-warm apple pie. Count your blessings.

Alison Ranger – To Migrate

Alison Ranger rely on the power of juxtaposition to maximize the impact of their delivery. Sometimes the variety of the music they are able to create results in an indecisiveness as to what to do next; however, most of their music is focused on the emotions behind the lyrics. This focus combines well with the band’s brevity keeps the confusion down to a minimum.

“To Migrate” starts softly with unidentifiable sounds that give way to a ripping guitar riff. Pummeling double bass, a duo of raging guitars, and unruly bass thrash behind vocals pushed to the vocals pushed to the point of breaking. Emotional, thick, DC-influenced hardcore … OK, just when you are getting comfortable with that, suddenly the music drops out, and a vacuum of LP crackle is traversed by distant synths and incidental keyboard. The band returns transformed, muted, joined by cellos. Borrowing heavily from Slint, the vocals are now barely audible despite the dramatic reduction in volume of the other instruments. Unlike Slint, this section is quite succinct and flows naturally into the next part, which does more than simply rehash the previous “hardcore” verse. Instead, the outro combines the distorted guitars and strained singing with flourishes of piano which only add to the urgency of the sound.

Alison Ranger mix together a number of styles that are difficult to define in themselves (often lumped together as “post-rock”). Perhaps guilty of trying too hard to fuse certain genres, whatever term you affix to their sound, Alison Ranger easily convey emotions and ideas through these stylistic filters.

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