Circle and Square – The Difference Engine

Circle and Square is a relatively new indie rock band from New York City. They’ve already generated a sizable buzz in east coast circles, not an easy thing to do in a region so overcrowded with similar bands. However, the attention is well deserved in this case. This five-piece band crafts sweeping pop songs with plenty of drive and energy, while retaining a melodic sensibility. Their chaotic live shows are big part of their appeal, but Circle and Square’s songwriting is really their strongest asset.

“The Difference Engine” begins with a Fugazi-styled post-hardcore riff before flowing into a more relaxed verse part. Most of the music is very poppy but also rough around the edges. The distorted vocals, most likely a symptom of the demo-quality recording, tend to diminish the pop elements and play up the noise.

To date the band has only released one four-song demo, but already has a number of influential fans, notably Saves the Day frontman Chris Conley. After seeing Circle and Square play in NYC a few months back, Conley offered them a support slot on Saves the Day’s last tour. Circle and Square have absorbed the best elements of Built to Spill and Modest Mouse and blend them with a modern hardcore energy that’s all the rage these days.

Outsmarting Simon – Drive-By Monologue

From New Brunswick, N.J., Outsmarting Simon comes from a surprisingly fertile indie rock scene. “Drive-By Monologue” is one of two demo tracks recently posted on their website. Those familiar with the post-hardcore stylings of Appleseed Cast and Penfold will see a lot of similarities here.

This definitely shares the mindset of most of Deep Elm Records’ roster, which is to say it fits neatly into the formula for their brand of “emo”. The slowly building and intertwining guitar lines draw heavily on arpeggiated notes. When the heavier part kicks in, there’s some nice feedback and the backing vocal lines are a nice touch. The lyrics clearly received more than a little cursory attention, which is hardly standard in the genre. While they’re suitably vague, the delivery and context successfully creates a mood.

While this genre isn’t exactly new or exciting anymore, these guys are able to craft a sound that takes the best elements of modern “emotional” rock and combines them to form a very high-quality product.

Andy Gorwell – Uprooted

Australian Andy Gorwell’s debut release, Uprooted, is a tepid, workmanlike foray into American roots music. On it, Gorwell and his backing band plod studiously through eight Gorwell-penned originals and one Rolling Stones cover.

You can hear them trying to please, to make “authentic” sounding country-rock on the record. Gorwell sings in an earnestly Texas-tinged, scruffy tenor clearly enough for the listener to hear every word he’s singing. The backing band plays with a studiously generic twang, with requisite smoky harmonica, bristly acoustic guitar strumming, and a peppy rhythm section. The standout performer, pedal steel guitarist Ed Bates, plays his instrument deftly, wistfully invoking cattle drives and Texas hoedowns. Additionally, the melodies and arrangements fall safely within country and country-rock. All together, Gorwell and the band sound like they could put together some loving covers in front of an audience. And, as they demonstrate in their tribute to the Rolling Stones’ “No Expectations,” Gorwell and company follow the tune with reverence. Still, this disc fails to satisfy for two reasons: cliched music and hackneyed lyrics.

Gorwell’s melodies and arrangements orbit all too closely around music that has been recorded before. These tunes could be considered “almost covers.” Most notably, the melodies for the verses in “Diamonds” sound just like the Rolling Stones’ “Dead Flowers.” I thought I was imagining it but then I tried singing the lyrics to “Dead Flowers” during “Diamonds” and it fit like hand in glove. The other Gorwell originals don’t come out as immediately recognizable, but musically, the monster truck tread marks of previous artists coat these songs with a thick layer of asphalt.

Lyrically, Gorwell keeps within a narrow, overused lexicon of a stereotypical white, rural Sunbelt America. His words, filled to the trite brim with trains, truck drivers, whiskey, honky tonk men, and worn out rhymes, hurt these songs much more than his melodies. His moldy portrayals of America’s rustic, country roots sound callow, unbelievable, and even a little insulting. In “Diesel,” he reflects on the life of his “truck-driving” grandfather. If his grandfather really trucked for a living, you couldn’t tell by this song. “Diesel” is theoretically a story song, but all the listener comes away with is a vague image of someone who dropped out of school to drive a truck. In “Old Friend the Blues,” his lyrics are so contrived that he sounds like he’s got trouble singing and keeping a world-weary tone at the same time. He might even be giggling a bit when he sings, “So you say you want to be a honky-tonk star / singing Hank Williams songs in smoky bars.” I certainly would.

Within his kitschy lyrical watercolors, his wording choices lack any ingenuity or distinction. His lyrics sound like they’ve been cribbed from other songs even more brazenly than his melodies. In “Anticipating,” he’s “waiting and anticipating all his life.” OK, hands in the air for all of you haven’t heard those strung together for a quick and easy rhyme. Anyone?

Andy Gorwell has got country in his veins
but he just needs to get on one them planes
and hop over to the US of A
and learn himself some more songs to play.

But that won’t change much. Gorwell would be better served if he took a look around his neck of the woods and wrote from his own experience instead of everyone else’s. Or, at the very least, he might want to pick up a rhyming dictionary.

Velvet Crush – Soft Sounds

On their latest album, the appropriately named Soft Sounds, The Velvet Crush delve deeper into the folksy harmonies and slide guitars that have always been more subdued in their earlier power-pop releases. While still a collaboration between equal partners – Rick Menck and Paul Chastain – this time around Chastain took the reins and recorded much of the music on his own for a solo album that never materialized. Menck added his contributions later to make the disc a true Velvet Crush effort. Matthew Sweet, long-time buddy of the band, contributed use of his home studio along with some guitar playing and backing vocals.
Soft Sounds is a mixed bag, in that some songs work wonderfully and others fail miserably. While all the songs on the disc are uniformly soft-rock (definitely in the vein of Mojave 3’s much better Excuses for Travellers) the album occasionally suffers from a painful blandness. Attempts to liven things up, such as the cheesy 70s-sounding keyboard number “Party Line (Samba)” don’t help much. There are three cover tracks on the album, and they fit in decently assuming you’re not too attached to the originals. I initially despised the Alex Chilton and the Box Top’s cover “Rollin’ in My Sleep,” though I must admit the twee tenderness of the song has grown on me with subsequent listens.
On the whole, there’s nothing special here, but if you’re a fan of The Velvet Crush (or of super-soft rock, I guess) this disc just might find a home in your player. Myself, I can always make room for one more album of weepy harmonicas and jangly guitars.

Various Artists – Third Strike: Punk Rock Strike, Vol. 3

Compilations and samplers generally fall into two categories: the bad and the good. Most common are the bad, crammed with the crappy B-sides, dropped tracks, and overplayed hits of more popular bands. Less likely are the good, heaped with delicious “new-to-you” bands that can result in a few new favorite bands. Springman Records has a history of putting out good compilations, and Third Strike, the third volume in the Punk Rock Strike compilations, is no exception. Offering 22 different bands, there’s a little something for every punk-minded music fiend, so bear with me.
The album kicks off with The Sidekicks‘ “Smirking Revenge,” a punk anthem in the vein of Fat Wreck’s Lawrence Arms that encompasses the popular “melting pot” sound – bouncy riffs, sneering vocals, first-person emo-esque lyrics, even a hardcore scream thrown in between choruses. Springman’s own Amazing Transparent Man keeps the cheerful atmosphere going with “Your Mother Lied,” a more sugary song similar to material from New Found Glory, and Jinxpack’s “The Soap Opera” and Saturday Supercade’s “Simple Words” are more of the same. With bouncy bass-lines, sweet melodies, and light pop lyrics, these songs would worm their way into the hearts of the Warped Tour crowd and Midtown fans.
Thrown in between Jinxpack and Saturday Supercade are The Secretions, another Springman band. Standing out from the first five tracks, the Secretions’ “Boner” is a disgusting song about, well, the male libido. Though I loved the furious, three-chord punk style, the feminist in me cringed at the lyrics; after all, though songs about male masturbation may be amusing to some men, it doesn’t appeal to members of the opposite sex. For females there’s the popular Groovie Ghoulies, represented on this compilation by “Let’s Do it Again,” a monotonous, fast, three-chord punk very similar to The Secretions; and with two of the three current members female, they probably won’t be singing anything too male-exclusive. Fans of The Queers or dirtier, more offensive NOFX (like “Louise” and “Hotdog in the Hallway”) will love either of these bands.
Punk Rock Strike also spits up The Gamits with “Reset,” my favorite song on the album. Though it took two trips to Georgetown, I finally got my hands on Rose Harbor Anthems, the only release I can find offline from The Gamits, although their website mentions another LP and two EPs. They play straight punk that fits in no specific sub-genre but touches a little of everything – sugar, sarcasm, satire, and politics.
Punk Rock Strike also offers a slew of bands for Saves the Day or Dashboard Confessional fans. Sporting lyrics like “there’s nothing I can do but try to make it up to you,” The Fairlanes, Red Hot Valentines, My New Life, As You Wish, Next To Nothing, Latham, Short Round, Audio Crush, and Bottom Line all offer almost cookie-cutter pop-punk songs on the verge of emo. Happy Campers offer a more original spin on whining about relationships by infusing reminiscent lyrics (“Looking back on all the times we shared…”) with speedy drums and relentless guitars, but the thrashy sound doesn’t fit subject matter. Though this genre (whatever one wants to call it) seems to be popular right now, I don’t like the confessional-style song, particularly since so many bands are trying this sound on right now that the music has become trite and uninspiring. Nevertheless, as I’m unfamiliar with any of the bands, its unfair to judge them by one song. I’ve heard good reviews of The Fairlanes and Red Hot Valentines from fans of this genre.
The last few songs are much more original. The Desaparecidos‘ “The Happiest Place on Earth,” the only political song on the album, is desperate, filled with a hopelessness similar to The Broadways’ “15 Minutes,” and though the song doesn’t quite seem to fit with the rest of the compilation, The Desaparecidos contribute a unique political bent very different from the typical pissed-off, anarchist crust punk. 800 Octane’s “Holiday” and The Fonzarellies “Are You Ready?” are both guitar-driven rock songs appealing to a wide audience of punk and rock fans. The Travoltas, one of my favorite light-punk bands, play “Anywhere You Want,” a good sample of their Beach Boys-inspired, summer rock. The compilation finishes with “I’m Back” from Cruiserweight, a talented, hard-working pop-punk band. Since my business Moonslush.com sponsored Cruiserweight a few months ago, I got a chance to hear their latest album and was instantly hooked. Cruiserweight’s buoyant melodies brimming with Stella’s cute whine is a great way to finish off the album.
Once again, Springman Records has put together a compilation that offers the best from some hardworking bands, about a dozen or so that have the potential to be new favorites. It’s well worth the dollar, and even if you don’t pick up the album, I suggest downloading a few samples from any of these bands. They all deserve the attention.

Damnation – The Unholy Sounds of Damnation

Don’t be fooled by the satanic skull; Damnation are no cheesy death-metal band still clinging to the 80s. With nonstop noise and testosterone-drenched vocals, they’re a raw, amped-up assault, perhaps better described as the nefarious offspring of The Misfits and Metallica or The Dwarves and Judas Priest. The Unholy Sounds of Damnation, the fourth full-length album from these four L.A. punk-rockers, displays the band’s talent and ability.
Part of me believes that this album isn’t one for the kids. For instance, just as I wouldn’t introduce my daughter to Arab on Radar’s Yahweh or the Highway before familiarizing her with punk, I don’t recommend Damnation to those unfamiliar with The Misfits. Intense instrumentals set off by an underlying punk sarcasm mock the greasy hair and tattoo sleeves, ridiculing Damnation’s own image. The music flirts with child-molesting priests (“Fuel Injected Priest”), Vampirism (“Blood Junkies”), and sadomasochism (“Spell On Me”), while lyrics like “In stilettos and a whip / says that Satan is her bitch / got the chronic and the crypt / even Jesus Christ is on her tip” caricature angst-ridden satanic subcultures, daring the listener to take the music seriously. The influence of So-Cal punk pops up in “Formaldehyde,” a meaty tune about Ben the puppy embryo, and even the Mamas and the Papas’ innocent “California Dreamin’” is turned into a hellish anthem in “California Demons,” a loose parody. At only 19 minutes for 11 tracks, this album is fast, furious, and a little fun; I wish it were longer.
Though it took a few listens to get used to the macho Metallica growls injected every few tracks, I enjoy Damnation’s rock’n'roll punk fusion, and their unique humor stands out from the typical over-sexed, masturbatory punk banter. Frenzied drumming, a restless bassline, and leering lyrics keep The Unholy Sounds of Damnation an entertaining listen strongly recommended to Misfits fans or punks looking for a new sound.

Jen Turrell – Honesty and Apologies EP

You may or may not recognize Jen Turrell from her work with Rabbit in Red, but after a slew of seven-inches, cassettes, and compilation contributions, here she is with yet another solo release. When she is not writing and recording these lovely little folk-pop tunes, she can also be found running the record label Red Square, which she used to release this five-song effort in collaboration with Death Courage Records.
For Honesty and Apologies, recorded in Grand Junction, Co., Jen is joined by her mother Elizabeth Elgin on harp, as well as members of the Love Letter Band, who contribute all sorts of goodies like drums, cello, banjo, ukulele, organ, and xylophone. But the focus is consistently placed on Jen’s adorable voice and heartfelt lyrics, which focus largely on relationship troubles and other such issues. Her voice is sometimes a bit too chipper, making it feel as though a song or two is lacking in real substance, but such things are barely noticeable, leaving nothing but a nicely orchestrated acoustic folk effort.
As one may expect, the overall feel is quiet, personal, and painfully lovely. The opening “Hello Love” is the perfect example, as Jen sounds on the verge of tears at times as she ponders a relationship that seems to have been doomed from the start. “Annelie’s Room” is a bit more upbeat as the guitar plucking propels things along while Jen reaches for the high notes. But if you’re expecting nothing but sappy and overdramatic nonsense, Jen shows she has a sense of humor and a bit of spunk when she whispers “I’ve hurt you too, I’ve fucked with your head” on “Better Friend.” “Plane Crash” is a bit darker and more melancholy but with a lovely harp piece that weaves its way into your brain and refuses to let go, while the song as a whole is perhaps the most achingly beautiful of the bunch. Closing things out on a bit of an up note is the adorable “Trucker Time,” very much giving the feel of a talented songwriter creating songs in her bedroom and then packing up her acoustic guitar and heading to a friend’s home to record them.
Five songs come to a close in about 15 minutes, and though this feels like the sort of thing that could have been recorded in a single afternoon, there is no way to doubt the amount of heart that seems to have gone into it.

Bon Voyage – The Right Amount

Some couples are constantly fighting. Some couples spend all of their time in the bedroom. Some couples act so they barely resemble couples. Judging by the work of Jason and Julie Martin, some couples also create beautifully textured songs that show off some of the sugary sweetest pop you’ve ever heard.
You may recognize Jason Martin from his regular gig with Starflyer 59. Some time ago, he and wife Julie released a seven-inch on Velvet Blue Music, the record label run by SF59 bandmate Jeff Cloud. What started out as a simple little side project grew a bit more prominent in 1998 when the couple released a self-titled full-length. Now, four years later, Bon Voyage feels like less of a side project and more of a second band with the release of The Right Amount. And to make this even more of a family affair, Jason’s brother Ronnie, the brains behind the analogue synth group Joy Electric, drops by to contribute some excellent synthesizer work.
Since Jason Martin wrote these songs, it is difficult not to compare Bon Voyage to his other, better-known band. Lulling tracks like “All the Traps” and “The Telephone” are where the songwriting will sound most familiar, but most of these songs would sound out of place on a SF59 record. Right from the opening title track, the songs are far poppier and quirkier than any SF59 material, though there is that same sense of airy psychedelia that weaves its way in and out of every track. This is Jason’s chance to shake away the dreamy psych-pop and break loose with the easily humable pop gems that have been running through his head for who knows how long. Meanwhile, Julie’s vocals are nearly perfect, blending a seductive whisper with a bubble-gum gleefulness. Her voice is understated but lovely, much like her husband’s song structures, and the two compliment each other perfectly. And then, what could be described as sparse but lovely songs are given a nice bit of texture courtesy of the swirling synthesizers of brother Ronnie and the throbbing basslines of Travis Zimmerman, both of which walk a crafty line between eerie and playful.
Overall, a lovely little pop album that seems incapable of offending even the harshest critic.

My Dad is Dead – The Engine of Commerce

Though 80s rock has become vogue with the “in” crowd of the indie scene, many modern bands supposedly influenced by that sound fail the find the nitty gritty production aspects that make some of the best groups from the 80s truly memorable. Though the music of that decade is well known for indulgence and excess, the winners, like The Police, U2, The Cure, and Depeche Mode, found a way to blend a revolution in production with lasting songs. Presently, there are many bands out there that rely on synthesizers and the requisite 80s tools, but few have found that proper atmosphere to surround their material. My Dad is Dead, the longtime solo project of veteran Ohio rocker Mark Edwards, is one group that has managed to resurrect that 80s feel, even if the group can’t quite hold it together for an entire release.
Edwards seems to have a firm grip on the throwback atmosphere. This is probably due to the fact that he has been playing music since those aforementioned glory days. His groups have opened for the likes of Modern English and the Butthole Surfers, and the sound he has created fits somewhere in between those bands. No, Edwards doesn’t have that “burn, baby, burn” ethic that the Surfers were enthused to project, but he takes a little bit of their style and flair and mixes it with a guitar lead assault. Unfortunately, the vocals don’t match up to the rest of the group, a glaring hole throughout the release.
“All We Want” begins the record with a laidback pace, as Edwards’ vocals flow easily over a treble infected lead guitar and trance inducing rhythm section. His vocals, though not annoying, aren’t really all that spectacular, which is one reason the record never really takes off. “The Engine of Commerce” picks up the energy a bit more as the Edwards finds a nice, head-nodding rhythm to lead the way. It’s funny that this songs comes off better than the others with it not having any vocals. If he could add a bit of spunk to his throat, many of the tracks would breathe life much more fully.
Songs like “Urgency” are similar in feel to many of the tracks on the rest of the release, but where is the energy? Sure, Edwards can crank out a decent rock tune, but many of the tracks feel flat.
In the end, Edwards’ material is well crafted, even if it lacks a truly unique quality. Those looking for a breezy, relaxing listen should take notice. Those looking for a top-notch 80s revival group may be disappointed. Edwards tries hard and does come up with an 80s style production feel, but an overall lack of energy makes it hard for an active listener to take much notice.

The Jimmy Stuarts – Ma-Ma-San

This is the second full-length from this three-piece that come from the state of Washington with their brand of noisy psych jumble. The band performs quirky pop songs that are shrouded in guitar fuzz and feedback while the sweet melodies are hidden under the commotion. The band can easily go from psych-punk freakout to calm and serene folky style ramblings when it is called for. The Jimmy Stuarts are hard to put a finger on with their fractured songs and amateurish approach.
“American Gypsy” starts the disc off in a ghostly keyboard-laden hum that drifts into a psychedelic explosion of sound. Mike Martinez’s slightly nasal vocals drift in and out of the mix, adding a different texture to the intriguing noise. “Feeling Lonely” is an explosive psych-garage freakout with screeching guitars and nice biting vocals. This song is very reminiscent of early Flaming Lips with its amateurish exuberance put to good use. “The Man” is a rootsy romp with some sparkling guitar and fuzzy warmth that enhances the song. It switches nicely from washes of sound to a clearer, folksy tone throughout, making it more enjoyable.
“Love Eats Love” is an aggressively poppy little number that sounds like a more frantic Young Fresh Fellows untill the ending explosion. “D Song” is a noisy guitar-driven pop song with some killer pop hooks buriend in the noise. Martinez drawls along in the back with screaming guitars blaring their way through. “Avery” is a very pleaseant down-tempo ballad that is driven by some nicely placed keyboards and fractured charming vocals. This is a highlight of the disc with its quiet beauty to the fore untill the break in the middle.
This disc is all over the place in style and techinque, which makes for a disc without a lot of flow from one song to the next, a rather distracting characteristic. It is full of disjointed psych songs with sweet melodious underbellies covered in noisy outbreaks. The second half of the disc is slightly less frantic and lets the listener enjoy the melodies more in the open. Though not always coherent, there is plenty to enjoy here if you like the noisy pop of stuff like early Flaming Lips.

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