Vincent Bergeron – Le Meneur Détraqué et les Pions Agités vs la Distance Infranchissable

This song, which roughly translates to “the ruined leader and agitated pawns vs the insuperable distance” (or something like that), is a touch agitated and insuferable.

Bergerson’s decidedly un-rock n’ roll-looking website has nicely abstract images with some nice colours. It’s pleasantly avant guard and abstract. The music matches this. We are now in the realm of experimental music.

That usually gets my ear defences up quick smart, but you should give it a chance if that’s your kinda thing. Piano and clipped samples and percussion mainly lead the piece’s sound. It’s quite cacophonic and not unlike an orchestra warming up.

Another situation that comes to mind is the theme music to some sort of old-school psychological thriller from the 60s. Like Alfred Hitchcock or something. Get him to score your next movie.

America is Waiting – The Virus is Airborne

This band’s website totally looks the goods – you should check it out. It has a diatribe of intent that would make Shakespeare proud. Their introductory words almost make you want to rise up and bring on the revolution right now. Can their words of intent and clenched fist motivation possibly be matched by their music?

Damnit, no! The sound isn’t right for a start. The drums seem like a million miles away and the mix sounds like something from 1971.

There’s a feel of melodrama here. A hell of a lot of melodrama. The way the singing sounds like it’s about to cut loose, the guitar sound, and the slow paced drumming. It’s all rather gloomy.

The way that the band sounds you’d think that they would look like Black Sabbath. They just seem to have that sort of attitude coming through in their music. When I did have a look at some pics I see that they look more like a full of energy post-punk band. It’s a shame that that look and attitude isn’t reflected in this song.

America may be waiting, but not for this band.

The Great Depression – Unconscious Pilot

A great American writer once declared that a large part of what makes good writing is its possessing the intangible quality of being able to reach out to its audience and teach them how to read that particular piece of writing. The idea being that as one discovers a work, the work simultaneously informs the reader how best to go about that discovery. It’s an interesting aesthetic, and one that the songs on The Great Depression’s new album, Unconscious Pilot, manages to achieve almost effortlessly without exception.

Each track here is patient and deliberate, drifting through dreamy soundscapes filled with pianos, organs, percussion, and unbelievably warm-toned guitars that together reveal each song’s well-defined though somehow still understated individuality. By the end of each track, one is left with a very clear impression of a feeling, an image, or a scenario that is separated but not entirely divorced from the rest of the record. If all that is too abstract to follow entirely, that’s probably because it’s an extremely abstract album. Let’s try and be a bit more direct.

Probably the most impressive aspect of Unconscious Pilot is how many different approaches the band uses and the different directions they take in their attempt to find the right avenue for each particular song. The opening number for instance, “The Baltic Sea,” is the perfect song for a late-night drive on a winding dark road. While layered with feedback and largely inaudible lyrics and multiple harmonies, its groundwork is set with a no-frills, dangerously infectious 3/4 beat that has one’s head bobbing like one of those stupid dashboard ornaments with the springy necks. “Two is Fine” is equally driving with its steady kick drum, but the effect is entirely different. The song is more up-tempo though still moody, but has hints of bands like New Order or Tears for Fears thrown in there. Then comes the perfectly titled “The City by Ultralight.” Never before has a song so aptly sounded like its title. Taking the first two of minutes of its three minutes to filter in out of the ether and slowly turn into a song, it sways with fuzz and male/female harmonies to the point that it could almost be a B-Side off of My Bloody Valentine’s shoegazer handbook, Loveless.

The eight-minute epic dreamsong, “Meet the Habsburgs,” has more space than John Cage could know what to do with. And just when you think you’ve figured out the whole “Great Depression sound,” they chime in with 70s horns for the beginning of “The Sargasso Sea,” which is something like a soup spiced up with dashes of Belle & Sebastian, Evan Dando, and hmm . . . maybe earlyish REM? Throw in the catchy Morrissey loving “Violent Goodbyes,” a Boys For Pele-like piano instrumental, and the last track, “Advents,” which might have been written after one two many spins of Red House Painters, and you’ve got an album to brag to your friends about that you discovered it.

My apologies and regrets for dropping so many names and comparisons there, but the scope of this album is too great to be summed up in a few cleanly stated likenesses, and I’d rather err on the side of sounding pretentious than I would on the side of giving the wrong impression. Still, despite its ambitious variations, the record is entirely cohesive and not disjointed at all, a success largely due, no doubt, to the impressive production performed by one of the band members himself. Buy this record.

Saloon – If We Meet in the Future

Reading, England’s Saloon offers, on its second album, If We Meet in the Future, a collection of insistent, snaky melodies and quiet, minor-key vocals. Lead singer Amanda Gomez sounds almost exactly like the Sunday’s Harriet Wheeler, and if you want to get a sense of Saloon’s sound, imagine the Sundays taking a slow morphine drip and reading sad novels. The end result is sweetly melancholic indie pop marked by uncomplicated melodies played over a wash of subdued strings and that barely-in-key rhythm guitar style that everyone learned from Lou Reed. At least, that describes Saloon at their best; the album actually begins with its most up-tempo number. “Vesuvius” opens with a cloyingly repetitive hammer-on/pull-off guitar riff, but quickly saves itself with its tense rhythm and shivering melodica.
From there things smooth out, and If We Meet in the Future becomes the kind of album you can lose yourself within. The band favors a lot of synths, melodica, and glockenspiel, as well as the aforementioned strings, and the effect can be pleasantly hypnotic. A couple of the songs, like “Kaspian,” reach a little too far into dreaminess. That particular track seems to lose any sense of focus, and the lead instruments sort of wander cluelessly over Michael Smoughton’s overbearing cymbals and high-hat. The drums on this album were the one distracting part of the otherwise fine instrumentation. They weren’t off-tempo, but they seemed out of sync in a less literal sense, and always at the wrong level in the mix, the one part of the lo-fi production that doesn’t quite work here.
For the most part, Saloon sticks to the kinds of songs that work best for them, songs that begin with a tighter, clearer song structure than “Kaspian” has. “Dreams Mean Nothing” achieves the distant, dreamy quality “Kaspian” looks for, but it does so in a way that holds onto the listener a little better, not letting the vocals and instrumentation get lost in sound effects and samples. Basically, all I’m saying is that Saloon is not a group that should be looking to break into the jam band circuit. The best songs are the brighter, up-tempo songs, like “Absence” and “The Good Life” (which suffers only from a keyboard figure that, unintentionally I’m sure, sounds exactly like “Always Something There to Remind Me”). On these songs the melodicas and John Cale-style violas sound there best, adding layers of texture to the airiness of the harmonies.
“¿Que Quieres?” is, as you might guess, a song sung in Spanish. I would love it if the band did even more non-English speaking, if for no other reason than to separate itself a little from the English pop-music masses, since its sound doesn’t deviate much from that world. The bands seems poised (and is certainly good enough) to have the kind of breakout success enjoyed in recent years by Belle & Sebastian and others, but at this point they’re more likely to blend into the background of the pop scene. They’re from Reading, which their press material calls “the spiritual home of shoegazing,” and they seem drawn to alternative outlets of music making, not just touring as an opening act but also playing fashion shows and doing live film soundtrack performances for sci-fi movies. That kind of diversity is hinted at but not fully explored on If We Meet in the Future. Nevertheless, Future is more than an easy listen. It’s a bright, urgent, and charming album from an excellent young band.

The Tossers – Purgatory

No matter how many banjoes and tin whistles are crammed into an album, infusing traditional Irish music with speedy punk can no longer be tagged unique, innovative, or otherwise “fresh.” The Pogues started it in the 80s, Dropkick Murphys made it mainstream in the 90s, and a whole slew of others, from The Real McKenzies to Flogging Molly, have been capitalizing on it ever since. The Tossers are just one of the herd.
Snuggling neatly into the small span of years after The Pogues fizzled out and before Dropkick Murphys revived the genre’s popularity, this Chicago seven-piece is more Celtic than it is pop-punk. Slow ballads with picturesque Irish names (“Caoin,” “Memory”) and accent-laden, lilting vocals frequent the 16-track Purgatory; the album slips from maudlin ramblings to merry reels but never strays from a distinctly Irish, beer-induced jubilance. (I should note one exception: the second half of “Chicago,” for reasons known only to The Tossers, suddenly rips into a fiddle-free, guitar-driven, sneery punk-rock song. This is, however, an anomaly.) Even the speedier songs (still quaintly tagged with titles like “Nantucket Girls Song” and “Ballad of the Thoughtful Rover”) play more like Irish jigs than pop-punk with a mandolin. The folksy feel of Purgatory makes The Tossers seem more honest and genuine, more dedicated to the music; I can’t, however, see fans of traditional, gritty rock enduring a song like “Come Dancing” for long.
The album’s weakest point are the vocals. Frequently sounding rushed and slightly off-key, Tony Duggins’ voice doesn’t measure up to the haunting Irish ideal, a fact most painfully obvious on the a capella title track, “Purgatory.” The vocals aren’t so bad as to ruin the album – only a few simple voice lessons or more attentiveness should remedy the problem – but they do leave it sounding unpolished. The lyrics also are also a little clumsy and stereotypical when compared with The Tossers’ poetic predecessors The Pogues, but to its credit, the band makes an honest effort at picking apart politics (“The Squall”) and religion (“Purgatory”).
Ultimately Purgatory fits snugly into its genre. It isn’t a perfect or earth-shakingly original album, but unlike some of the more mainstream Celtic-punk acts, The Tossers exude a comfort with traditional Celtic folk that can only come with years of experience and a genuine love of the music.

The Moore Brothers – On & Out

There are certain kinds of music that lend themselves to cloudy/rainy days. For me, it’s usually something soft or melancholy, something soothing and unobtrusive enough that I can tune it out, but engaging enough so that if I want to listen, it holds my attention. Usually it’s something Like Velour 100′s Fall Sounds, American Analog Set’s The Golden Band, Boards of Canada’s Music Has the Right to Children, or maybe The Shins’ Oh, Inverted World. With The Moore Brother’s On & Out, it looks like I’ll have one more to add to that list.
Lest that last paragraph sounds like a backhanded compliment, it’s not. This really is one of the nicest retro-pop albums I’ve heard in awhile. The whole thing reminds me of AM radio pop, the kind of stuff you’d pop in your 8-track as you enjoyed a nice Sunday drive in your El Camino. There’s very little about this album that would reveal its more modern roots, save for what sounds like some shuffling drum programming on “Emotional Rollercoaster,” a fun little tune that features some nice acoustic guitar to fit in the with reverbed vocals and slightly hazy atmosphere.
The CD starts off with the title track, a 30-second fragment of perfect pop that reminds me of something Bob Pollard or Tobin Sprout would have penned in Guided By Voices inspired Bee Thousand period, albeit much better-produced. In fact, vocalist Greg Moore’s voice bears more than a passing resemblance to Sprout’s high, slightly effeminate croon. The band then slips into “Have You Seen Sorrow?” a gentle song with a nice melody that sits easily on top of guitar parts that weave in and out of major and minor arpeggios. The next track, “Sad and Joy,” possesses verses that sound eerily like outtakes from Moonflower Plastic, but the chorus is pure Simon and Garfunkel, easy harmonies and all. “Tiny Bongs” is interesting mainly because of its chorus, as the song veers from its melancholy verse into a rolling, dub-influenced bass line with odd vocal harmonies swathed in echo. Likewise, “Black Paper Rag” is saved by the background vocals, easy “sha-la-la’s” that breeze by. Beautiful touch.
Most of the CD stays in this pattern: soft, beautiful pop songs with the occasional odd touches that make them stand out from each other. However, on “At Times,” vocalist Greg Moore throws a curveball, as he begins the song singing softly but launches into a yelpy, bluesy style for the chorus. “Salton Sea” stands out for its lightly distorted guitars and slightly punky vocal delivery. Listening to this album, it’s fairly clear where these fellows’ influences lie. Not that this is a problem; indeed, the thing is how nicely they manage to take those influences and pay homage to them without sounding overly derivative. Nice, nice work. Highly recommended.

Jenny Choi – Oceanside – Expresso Cafe, CA – 2003-08-13

This concert was a low-key, intimate affair at a small café in Oceanside, California. Jenny Choi set up the national “AIR” (Asians in Indie Rock) tour to showcase several Asian American bands involved in indie music. The point of this tour was to give recognition to the Asian American community as a positive, creative force and also to dispel stereotypes of a “silent minority”.

Chicagoan Jenny Choi, performed first and seemed to be missing part of her band. “The Third Shift” at this particular show consisted only of herself and a drummer. Despite the minimalist set up of keyboards and drums, she put on an engaging performance, with her sweet yet powerful voice. At times her music reminded me a bit of Norah Jones but more interesting and more upbeat. I am not too familiar with her music, but her lyrics are strong and the songs came off really well. At times they were even rocking out, but within in a melodic framework.

The next band that performed was Scrabbel from San Francisco, which features Dan Lee from the Aislers Set and Becky Barron from #Poundsign#, but Becky was missing in action that night. Scrabbel expanded its line-up to include a bassist, cellist, and violinist. There were some technical difficulties at first, but Scrabbel put on a solid, charming performance. Scrabbel played a few songs off their debut album, like the fun “Robot Song,” which added electronic bleeps over Dan’s mellow, soothing voice. Scrabbel’s sound has changed from their debut album and now incorporates a string section, which nicely improves the band’s sound. There is definitely a 60s folk-pop influence to Scrabbel (bands like the Byrds), but the band also features modern elements like fun drum machine noises and sampling. The band created light, pretty, bedroom pop music that put a smile on my face. My favorite song was probably Dan Lee’s beautiful acoustic rendition of the Kinks’ “Waterloo Sunset.”

The Dealership Kids, also from Northern California, played last and put on a rocking pop show. I am new to their music, but this band had likeable dual male and female vocals and felt like a cross between the intensity of Rainer Maria and the pop aesthetic of Weezer. They put on an extremely energetic set and had most people head bobbing along with their music. The drummer also reminded me of Dave Grohl because of his happy facial expressions while drumming and his silly sense of humor. This is definitely a band to keep an eye on.

The AIR tour seems a bit strange at first for a touring concept, but it is an important one. Several Asian Americans participating within the independent music scene do not receive enough recognition for their talent and hard work. This tour enables audiences to appreciate Asian American culture while simulatenously hearing fresh new pop music from promising talents.

Liberty Ship – Northern Angel EP

Liberty Ship hails from Nottingham, England and creates a brand of pretty pop music that is pleasant but not particularly exciting. Marc Eltson, former lead singer of Bulldozer Crash, and his musical cohorts construct familiar sounding songs on The Northern Angel EP. These songs sound like they could have been released in the 80s rather than earlier this year.
The title track, “Northern Angel,” is a beautifully crafted pop song and is deservedly the opening tune for this EP. It’s a sparkly sounding song, lushly orchestrated with appealing guitar parts, pretty female backing vocals, and tasteful harmonica bits to accompany Eltson’s lead vocals. This is a very catchy song in a good way, the kind of song that you enjoy getting stuck in your head. After this excellent song, the EP goes downhill a bit and fails to retain my interest. This band grows on the listener, but just barely, only after giving the EP several repeated listens..
The lyrics in the song “This World” remind me a bit of The Lucksmiths with the wordplay of the chorus “trying not to care, trying not to try.” The instrumentation in this song is great with crashing cymbals, shimmery guitar sounds, and an aura of spaciness. “The Final Kick” starts off slow but redeems itself toward the end by picking up the pace with faster drumming while Rachel sings lead with a cool, distanced voice. What bothers me about this track is that it passes itself as too easy and likeable. This song comes uncomfortably close to being generic “soft rock” music that could pass off as any other average song heard on radio stations championed by Dick Clark, but it fares slightly better. The final track on the EP, “Small Lives,” sounds pleasant enough, but it moves along too slowly for my taste.
The Liberty Ship musicians are quite accomplished and possess the talent to create beautiful, delicate pop songs, but on the other hand the songs are a bit boring. They have decent lyrics but the slower songs fail to keep my interest. Now if they wrote more songs in the vein of “Northern Angel,” the music would be more memorable. I hope the band will move in this direction in the future.

Local H – The No Fun EP

If you ever thought the gloss and polish of major label contracts and hi-tech recording studios didn’t quite suit the amped-up garage grunge sounds of Local H, you now have a chance to prove yourself right or wrong. After four full-lengths released via major labels, the band has gone back to the smaller and more independent Thick Records for this one. You can’t quite call it a “lo-fi” recording, but there is certainly a much rougher edge to these songs than there has been to any of the band’s other recent work, but that is to be expected from what must have been a smaller recording budget.
Half of these six songs are new originals, and the first of those features the same name as the EP itself. “No Fun” is typical Local H at its more aggressive moments. This means that frontman Scott Lucas divides his time between screaming his lungs out and spewing a massive wall of crunch from those badly abused guitars of his. Meanwhile, drummer Brian St. Clair is most certainly sweating and hidden behind a whirlwind of hair as he pounds away mercilessly at his kit. “President Forever” is a song fueled by anger and sarcasm, taking shots at George W. and the current state of the world. It utilizes a slightly more melodic approach than its predecessor, but doesn’t exactly aim to gently whisper in your ear or seduce you with loving caresses. “Cooler Heads” features a bit of a catchy groove that sounds like a handful of previously released Local H songs, but simultaneously rocks out like it just doesn’t give a shit.
Then you have three covers to round things out. The first of these is “Birth, School, Work, Death,” originally performed by the Godfathers, which stands out as the catchiest and most accessible rocker on this disc no matter who wrote it. Local H pays proper tribute, but also offers up just enough piss and vinegar to make the song uniquely its own for four minutes. And what punk-fueled rock band can release a collection of covers without including the Ramones? “I Just Want Something to Do” is the model this time around, and Local H does a fine but slightly unmemorable job of rehashing it. Closing out the disc is a take on “Fuck Yeah, That Wide,” originally performed by Primal Scream. Unfortunately, with Local H at the helm, the assorted sounds and bits of chaos that made the original intriguing are lost behind a wall of abrasive noise. Screams and distortion lead the way as pounding drums offer plenty of support, but the end result just kind of leaves you shrugging your shoulders as the whole thing comes to a rather uneventful climax.
Overall, the results of this one are a bit mixed. Diehard Local H fans will no doubt enjoy all six songs, while those only familiar with the band’s more radio-friendly and easily digestible material might be scared off, as will those who use this as their introduction to the duo.

The Hookers – S/T

The Hookers (Spencer Moody, Dann Gallucci, Andrea Zollo, and Derek Fudesco) was, according to the Cold Crush website, a band for six months that recorded eight songs finally seeing the light of day. This is notable for several reasons. Three-fourths of the Hookers would go on to form the Murder City Devils. After that band’s demise, Bassist Fudesco would go onto what is, in this reviewer’s humble opinion, one of the best groups around, Pretty Girls Make Graves. Andrea Zollo, of course, is the lead singer for PGMG, and while she wasn’t in MCD, she played drums for the Hookers.
Not only does the album show the budding rock genius of some of indie-rock’s biggest players, it also features several MCD songs in their baby stage: “Crush” became “Boom Swagger Boom,” while “Officer,” “Broken Glass,” and “Tell You Brother” also made it into the Devils’ repertoire. For fans of the MCD, this should be enough to entice you to cough up a relatively small sum in order to own a little bit of rock history. With that in mind, the recording itself is very, very raw. On a couple of tracks, the drums and bass are mixed so low you can barely hear them once Moody starts his howlin’.
If the Hookers were a band today, they would be the equivalent of a meaner version of the Thermals. With rock stripped down to the basics, influenced by crushes and booze, they would probably get slapped with the tag “lo-fi”. Of course, this means the Hookers would fit right in with the garage-rock revival currently in its third year of sweeping the nation. As it is, the members of the Hookers went onto bigger and better things. That makes this release a must for Murder City Devils or Pretty Girls Make Graves fans. Fans of the revival will also dig this.

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