Fairmont – True Love Waits

Fairmont sound like Brian Moloko stealing the guys from The Cure. Urgent vocals sing again of love reminding of that lost moment in time somewhere between new-wave and the romantics of the early 80s. Indie through and through.

The song opens with the sound of searching for a radio station – waiting for a good song to play, the song is also about waiting. And waiting a long time it seems. They mention six years, so that’s a long time to be waiting. Waiting for what? Well, love of course.

Sounding a few mixing hours short of a good sound, “True Love Waits” is very raw feeling. It’s not really above demo stage really, but there’s a certain appeal in that, and more importantly all the right ingredients are there. Even the strained singing – which barely manages to hit some of the notes – leads to happy thoughts for this band.

Paul Westcott – Single Day

An understated and pretty song about those wonderful moments when you realise that you are in love. Sung with restraint, accompanied solely by a strumming acoustic guitar, Westcott’s “Single Day” is like seeing a single flickering candle light in a large darkened room – small, simple, and beautiful.

Brought up in a musical household (including the all important addition of his mother’s habit of singing in the shower!), Westcott has put this musical education to good work with tender lyrics sung in a gentle yet strong voice. Westcott looks like he’s been dragged around the block a few times, yet this song so wonderfully captures those precious moments of a new love as if was the all the magic was experienced just as powerfully as it ever was.

This version of the song is described as just a demo. Let’s hope he doesn’t do too much to it. It works so well already. Best played when you’re winding down after a long night with that last glass of red.

Striking Distance – The Bleeding Starts Here

Striking Distance play unapologetic hardcore. They don’t innovate, they don’t attempt to fuse metal with hardcore, or hardcore with grindcore, or hardcore with any one of 1,500 subgenres out there. They play hardcore. From the pick slides to the rumbling bass lines, from the 4/4 drumming to the simple bar chords to the sub-two minute songs. From the chugga chugga breakdowns to the shout-along singing. It’s hardcore.
Now, if after reading that paragraph, you don’t know what Striking Distance do, let me state it one more time. Striking Distance are a hardcore band. I seriously can’t remember the last time I heard anything like this, probably not since I was in high school (for the record, I am in my 30s), and I am probably not Striking Distance’s target audience. In fact, I imagine with my long hair and bad attitude, I imagine myself being beat up by Striking Distance’s target audience, and chucked right out of the all-ages show.
For the record, Striking Distance are of the DC/Minor Threat school of hardcore (they do a Minor Threat cover toward the end of the record), and The Bleeding Starts Here is a compilation of their earlier material. Their lyrics contain the same sort of message of loathing for the system, combined with an odd positivity and a call to think for oneself, which, in my old age, has always struck me as ironic in a form of music that has such rigid rules. There’s not a breakdown, tempo change, or chord on this record that’s not predictable. But for fans of hardcore, that’s sometimes beside the point. And, no doubt, those who remember the DC scene, or still live for bands who sound like this will find a lot to like here. These guys sound pissed off, the album sounds loud and raw (though the two songs at the end from bad production which makes them lose their punch), and the singer screams as though every verse is the most important thing you’ll hear today.
However, its strengths are its weaknesses. They are only capable of sounding pissed off, loud, and raw. It’s like eating an entire box of saltines. You might love the first couple, but after a while, it’s just bland and unvaried. Your tolerance for this band will depend largely on how you read that opening paragraph; if you thought “shit yeah!”, this one’s for you. If you snickered, well, pass this one by.

Blue Wine – Harp On

Don’t believe the lies. Tropical Queensland is no more awash in the sea of heat-baked tranquility than Bob Dylan is responsible for Boyzone. The fact the sun is shining 300 days a year never negates the tough yellow stains of perspiration that appear in early spring and stink into bitter rocks throughout a summer that threatens to lift the concrete in a fetid haze. Amongst all this, for a while, there lived a band called Blue Wine, and it seems as if they too grasped the lies of white men in safari suits, of fake beaches in the middle of the cultural precinct, releasing an EP The Drunken Boat in 2000. Then they entered the studio, recorded some songs, and two of the three band members departed for Berlin, leaving Harp On as possibly their last will.
With titles like “Slaughter Falls,” “Posthumorous,” and “Glass Eye at the Keyhole,” Blue Wine obviously don’t intend to follow in the footsteps of fellow Brisbanites Savage Garden. Instead what we get over 19 tracks are articulate, painful, and bitter recollections, vocalist Kahl Monticone half-slurring, half-growling, “Swinging on a shoestring” like some curse while strings of cello and violin pasts piss their lifeline away in the background. It’s the place where piercing high-note guitar feedback bumps casually against a softly-plucked melody line, shivered clean with muted drum rolls, and this voice, this disembowelled voice that lingers like an aching ghost. Brackenridge and Madden weld their instruments to the swirling cacophony yet there are enough spaces here to breathe, to whisper, and just enough room to suffocate when all three come together again.
It’s quite catchy, in a “Berlin” meets the Go-Betweens meets the sound of Ian Curtis hanging himself kind of way, and it’s enough to keep you company at 4 am on a Thursday morning when the candles have burnt low and a shirt tossed in the corner of the room is the only thing remaining to remind you of the lover who has gone. Sometimes in life you need this music to let you know that someone else has hurt this much. These songs are the upside.

Gray Market Goods – "Soldier of Fortune" b/w "We Live in the Future" 12"

As a deeply principled man, keen not to bog himself down with the trivialities of day-to-day band existence, Bundy K. Brown likes to keep shifting his musical energies around. After a short-tenure in an early-Tortoise line-up and a one-off album with his brilliant instrumental trio Directions In Music in 1996, Brown has spread himself between post-folkers Pullman, occasional remix projects (Calexico, Yo La Tengo, et al.) and regular production jobs (Chicago Underground Duo, Isotope 217, etc.). Such movements mean that pinning down the personal imprint of this immensely talented man is a tricky task. This debut single from Brown’s new solo outlet, Gray Market Goods, won’t help matters much either, but it does, for the most part, provide an intriguing listen experience.

Essentially the product of one man, his sampler, and a stack of weird and wonderful old records, this wonderfully packaged 12″ explores the missing link between the dread-heavy dub of the first Tortoise album and the caustic cinematics of Barry Adamson. From the two tracks pressed-up here, it’s the eight-minute “Soldier of Fortune” that grips the tightest. The first half is driven by a thick and thuggishly slow bass-line, around which Brown smatters eerie guitar licks, vibes, electric piano, and odd snatches of brass. It’s like listening in on a subterranean Chicago jazz gig through cracks in the concrete above. The second half of the track slings in some distended wah-wah and funky drums like a lost Primal Scream track circa Vanishing Point - bringing the first side of this single to a stirring conclusion.

The flipside, “We Live in the Future,” can’t really compete in comparison. Again, it’s a fat bass-line that drives the proceedings, but this time the drums come straight in for the kill while groovy saxophones slide in and out of the mix. However, just as the track hits its three-and-a-half-minute stride, the stylus returns to its resting place, leaving you a little unsatisfied and craving for more.

Clearly the limited (and hideously expensive) vinyl status of this release is designed to steer Gray Market Goods towards DJ mix sets instead of home listening. That is a pity, because this soon-to-be-rare release opens a tantalising portal into an extraordinary whirlpool of sounds that deserves a wider, less-exclusive audience.

Tobin Sprout – Sentimental Stations

Tobin Sprout is something of a modern-day renaissance man: he’s both a talented musician and an impressive realist painter. He has a long and distinguished alt-rock music career under his belt, and is known for his time with Guided By Voice, as well as for several acclaimed solo albums. A gallery on Sprout’s web site showcases some of his astonishingly realistic paintings. Occasionally, he has combined the two crafts to create cover artwork for his own albums.
Sprout’s latest release is a medium-length disc called Sentimental Stations. It opens with “Secret Service,” a simple, atmospheric song in which the gloomy phrase “in her majesty’s secret service” is repeated over and over. This type of layered, hypnotic effect is used with even better results on the next track, “Branding Dennis,” an unusual and menacing instrumental that hints toward an explosive climax that never actually occurs. No harm done. The song that stands out the most may be “Doctor #8,” a mournful piano number that brings to mind some of Hayden and Ben Fold’s best sad tunes.
“I Think You Would” and “Inside the Blockhouse” are more straightforward, jangly guitar numbers, each showcasing Sprout’s emotive vocal style and excellent ear for catchy hooks. While big, open guitar chords are the most common base for Sprout’s songs, they are often augmented with keyboard effects and programmed drums to keep things interesting. The songs never descend into novelty territory, though; Sprout seems to understand that studio trickery is no substitute for a well-written song.
This type of simple, catchy music is often attempted with mediocre results. Sprout, however, has hit the nail right on the head: Sentimental Stations is a real treat and another proud addition to the already impressive Tobin Sprout catalog.

Doosu – Feng Shui

All you really need to know about this album is that it flat-out rocks. Feng Shui is Doosu’s forth album, this one being released on the band’s own BearHug label, and yet I had never even heard of the band until now. Doosu was once considered a nice little bright spot in the Northern Texas music scene, but if the band keeps cranking out records like this, it just might end up playing to larger audiences. Throughout the course of its life, Doosu has shared stages with the likes of Toadies, Porno for Pyros, Shiner, A Perfect Circle, and several other prominent acts, and the band seems to have picked up a thing or two along the way.
These are some of the most versatile songs you will have heard in a little while. They are powerful but not overpowering, intelligent without trying to be too clever. And the band makes it sound easy, rocking out with a sense of controlled recklessness one minute, gently crooning and lulling you into submission the next. There are huge riffs and sweet hooks capable of pulling in listeners from all corners, but also the mathy rhythm changes and lush layers that will hold the interest of those who prefer a more artistic and unique listening experience. This versatility is shown not only from song to song, but also occasionally within the framework of a single track. For example, “Scarlet Lullaby” starts out as a jazzy and funky rock tune that sounds like something Incubus would have written a couple of years ago, but gradually erupts into a thick wall of sound, punctuated by blazing guitars, pounded drums, and raspy shouts of “Wake up!”
The opening instrumental, “Who’s it Gonna Be?” does a perfect job of preparing you for what is ahead; speeding up, slowing down, getting aggressive, hiding in the corner. Early tracks like “Four Steps” and “In and Out” show the band’s grittier rock side, while “Working Man,” “War Plan Orange,” and “Racehorse” take breathers with a more mid-tempo and hook-oriented approach, but they remain unafraid to let their hair down and bang their heads. “Juggernaut” gets things moving again and leads you into the second half of the album as one of the most driving numbers of all, followed by the aforementioned “Scarlet Lullaby” and the equally complex but easily digestible “Atcitdio.” At times in the latter portion of the album, the band even has a bit of a jammy feel to it, comparable to the likes of I Mother Earth, especially on songs like “Heel Walker” and “Sonny.”
Back home in Texas, the Dallas Morning News has hailed Feng Shui as “one of the year’s top releases.” Though I wouldn’t go quite that far, if you like bands who bring the rock and aren’t too showy about it, Doosu should be right up your alley.

The Razorcuts – R is for… Razorcuts

R is for… Razorcuts is a 21-track collection of folk-pop recorded by England’s mid-80s underground sensations, the Razorcuts. Coming from a decade better known for spawning hair-metal and spandex, R is for… Razorcuts should be required listening for anyone who prefers their music outside the mainstream. The Razorcuts were and are about as far away from metal and its current derivatives as you can get and still have amped guitars and stick hit drums. With a myriad of influences apparent (the Beatles, punk, 60s folk-rock), the Razorcuts managed to turn off-key singing, twelve-string guitars, and tambourines into the heavy artillary used to fight off the aqua-netted masses. With hopelessly catchy melodies and impressive Wilson brothers-style harmonies (albeit, off-key harmonies), R is for… Razorcuts is a sort of history lesson in underground pop music.
With 21 tracks, you would expect some songs to stand out more than others, and of course, there are a couple songs – “Sorry to Embarrass You,” “Brighter Now” – that shouldn’t be missed. But overall, the album is pretty consistently strong. Starting with “I’ll Still Be There,” the Razorcuts set the stage with what can be interpretated as the predessecor to the Cure’s “Friday I’m in Love.” Following is “Big Pink Cake.” Not only does the song have the same drum beat as the Ronnettes “Be My Baby,” it has some clever and funny lyrics as well. Starting with “I made a big pink cake / A birthday present for the human race / I made a big mistake / I should’ve known you wouldn’t like the taste,” the singer, Gregory Webster, comes to the conclusion that he “should have pushed the whole thing in your face.” While not the most profound words ever sung in the English language, I can somehow relate.
On other songs like “Storyteller” and “Try,” the Byrds influence is what gets pushed to the front. Another obviously Byrds-influenced track is “Jade.” Sounding like a mishmash of all of their influences, the singing also manages to stay on key. That’s the one weakness in the Razorcuts formula. While singing is certainly an expression of one’s self, it is also usually important to sing in a style that is easy on the audience you are trying to reach. While Webster’s voice fits the accompanying music, it often swings from being charmingly off-key to just plain off. But with 21 tracks, three of which are rare singles/demos, who’s complaining? Of these bonus three, one (“The Horror of Party Beach”) even sounds like the cool uncle of a Pixies song, complete with Deal-esque bassline and a very Black Francis “croon.”
As a band, the Razorcuts are rarely mentioned or often overlooked. But for any music lover, Indie or not, R is for… Razorcuts offers a chance to catch up on what was happening elsewhere during a decade best remembered for Poison and the Crue.

Ancient Greeks – The Song is You

I wonder, I wonder… I wonder which specific ancient Greeks the Ancient Greeks find inspiring? From the way they pump out jazz-ish math rock, one would think it was perhaps Archimedes or Hypatia. But, of course, Euripides and Sophocles have clearly exerted an influence as well, given the AGs capacity for setting mood and portraying drama. Or perhaps they fancy themselves a more philosophical bunch, modeling their lives with Stoicism or Epicureanism?

No matter which Hellenes they currently idolize, on The Song is You, the AGs use fluid musicianship, smart production, and exceptional songwriting to produce an album full of good vibes, cool moments, and surprises. It’s the kind of album where you catch yourself smiling and laughing without realizing it, the kind of really great listening session where you keep jumping up to jam your headphones on some passerby’s ears and saying, “You have got to listen to this…”

And I mean that. You really, really have to listen to it. Just because the word -pop- is included in the description, don’t for a second think that this is easy listening. Because you’d be sorely mistaken, friend. You actually have to take the time to sit down, place the headphones over your ears, and really listen to what this scrappy band is laying down for all of us.

Because these Greeks, like their ancient brethren, are not content to merely accept the world as the world would like us to see it. They’re not just going to regurgitate Britney and Backstreet tunes. They push the world down on its back in the playground and empty its pockets to see what it’s trying to sneak past us. What they find is the inspiration for their music.

The result is tunes that are complex and decidedly not streamlined, un A&R’d, the opposite of Entertainment Tonight. This is music that you have to think about in order to understand, and, in fact, it demands to be listened to and thought about, rather than allowing you to consume without reflection.

These are sometimes smooth, sometimes strenuous, sometimes even prickly compositions. They’re songs that go from stone-into-pond ripples to ocean-hurricane waves, yet stand shoulder-to-shoulder by their Mediterranean brethren in unity and focus, bright faces shining out into the world: a wall of smiling sound to defeat the oblivious, illiterate masses; jerky, muted jazz chords and farfisa organ; melodious syncopated bass lines and frenetic percussion; a dense layering of noise and sound to wake you up from your sleepwalking day and remind you to think.

Think, and then smile.

Before I Go – Save Your Breath

Coming out of Detroit, Michigan, Before I Go is a five-piece rock band that is just now starting to make a name for themselves. They formed in 2000 and have since switched around their lineup to their now fully committed and touring state. The technical, almost mathy, aspects of their music are loosened up by their acoustic tracks and melodic harmonies.
“At The End” starts the CD with a technical guitar riff and a thumping drum. Then it changes into a sound that’s hard to fit your ears around as the drumming gets more complex and another guitar starts to pump with the beat. The sound is almost too busy for me, like a hodgepodge of sound that is actually airtight. A few tracks later on “So This is How it Feels,” Before I Go shows their other side, with an acoustic track with just one guitar and lead and backing vocals. The lyrics sound like journal entries, very accessible: “Will I ever be good enough for you again / Should I have to pay for my mistakes forever / It hurts the most when I hear your voice at night in my dreams / To realize that I couldn’t have you.”
“Spill the Paint” sounds like a different stage of grieving from the same relationship-gone-wrong in the previous track. In fact, the mixing makes the listener think it is the same song, just with a dramatic pause. This track is probably the best mid-point between the band’s technical sound and their more suburban-influenced sound. “Hollow Joy” starts a little slow with the lyrics not quite clicking into place, but by the end of the track it had me floored. I love this track: a little spoken philosophy over climaxing instruments, and then an actual dramatic pause, followed by a wonderful vocal harmony. If only the whole track was as strong.
Before I Go has left a pleasant aftertaste in my mouth. After the first math track, I thought I was in for a doozy that would have me dizzy before the end of the CD. Fortunately, for my ears, they integrate melody and vocal harmonies into their music as well as simplifying their sound throughout the album. Before I Go are currently touring the Michigan area; if you get a chance, I recommend checking them out.

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