Various Artists – The Pill: Tomorrow Never Happened

The Pill, an ultra-scene club for the hep indie-turned-mod dancers of the late 90s and early 00s, defined the underground style of Boston until its cadence in 2002. This clubhouse, originally located in The Upstairs Lounge, was the home of highly respected DJs Ken and Jen who were largely responsible for shaping the musical backdrop of the East coast styles from 1997 to 2002. During an episode inspired by the twin muses of music and alcohol, the ex-Pillers decided to compile a record packed with the club’s hottest live acts. The resulting album, which takes its name from graffiti sprayed above a bathroom stall of The Upstairs Lounge, defies all simple categorizations while it looks back on Boston’s sometimes innovative musical landscape.
The Cignal donates two tracks to the compilation entitled “Missteps” and “Replicate.” “Missteps” commences with a pensively melodic solo guitar and the background slowly builds in intensity. The rhythm section kicks in and the guitar melody returns reformatted until the song comes together to form an edgy dance tune. “Replicate” retains the danceable quality characteristic to The Cignal: “Replicate” seems to fuse the sounds of The Rapture with Koufax while also looking back to earlier generations. The Cignal is one of the tightest performances from the Boston vignette.
Emergency Music shows the poppy Brit side of the club’s live acts. In “Prodigal Son,” the band’s sound is strikingly like The Strokes with its loungy vocals. The band also pays tribute to The Beatles with inviting hand claps and poppy back-ups. “Prodigal Son” put simply is a pop tune that sounds destined for mainstream radio play. “Everything is Fine” is much of the same formula: simple lines and somewhat generic melodies. The chorus, “The kids in the club are acting up to the darkness in their minds,” is rendered rather lightheartedly. This combination leaves one wondering if the never-made music video for this tune would have included kiddie ravers with pigtails taking time-outs in the corner. Both of the Emergency Music tunes are constructed from the same cheesy drum riffs and there is not nearly enough rhythmic variation to get the baby-doll ravers back on the dance floor.
The Information has a strong techno-meets-new wave sound. “So Clear” has potential as a decent rock tune, and the band sounds much like Boston’s version of Pulp. The striking weaknesses are the aggressive hooks that lead to dead ends. “Breaking Me Down,” the band’s second track on The Pill, doesn’t even sound like the same band. Though it is also incredibly poppy, it is effectively catchy and inviting with is Depeche Mode/Cure-influenced style. The band has potential but its downfall is its out-of-place pop punk influence. If they could mute these undertones a bit more successfully, this would be a hot addition to The Pill. The Bon Savants are basically Hey Mercedes with Nick Cave on vocals. “Why This Could Never Work Between Us” begins with enough rock spirit and potential, but the tune’s flaw is that it stubbornly continues long after it is done, though it clocks in at a relatively short 3:16. “Post Rock Defends the Nation” has the welcomed lazy vocal style of Magnetic Fields and the song is much stronger than the former track. The Mittens are easily one of the better bands on this album. In “Morning Comes,” they present a fusion Thom York vocals with a sound strongly rooted in the more traditional rock of bands like Blur. Their strengths are potent melodic writing complete with mold-breaking chord changes. “Skip It All” adds to this blend the pop sensibility of Sloan. The Mittens succeed in presenting a solid sample of their musical approach.
The Good North is billed supposedly as an 80s synth tribute to Depeche Mode, but I find this band has much more in common with tacky pop-punk bands such as Sum 41 and Good Charlotte. We can be thankful that their only contribution was the appropriately titled, “I’m Not Feeling It.” Aerial Love Feed’s “Rockethouse” is definitely dated to the mid-90s grunge scene. Though it may have blended well with the alternative music that clogged the air waves of the mid-90s, the style is somewhat obsolete in the present indie-rock arena. December Sound’s “Running From” has the laid-back West coast attitude of Beulah with a British flare. “Signal Flow” presents a distorted guitar as it eases it way into a chaotic mess of reverb and grunge. I find it hard to believe that the same band recorded both of these stylistically disparaging songs. December Sound would be wise to remember that a foolish inconsistency is the hobgoblin of small bands. Baby Strange’s “Don’t Care” is pure Rolling Stones-brand rock. This is a classic addition to the amalgam of sounds that defined The Pill.
Overall, The Pill: Tomorrow Never Happened presents a few hot acts, but much of the highly eclectic compilation seems somewhat passé in the face of today’s ever-changing musical tastes.

The Frequency – S/T

Video may have killed the radio star, but digital recording technology killed just about any pop band that hit the record button in the 80s. Sadly, most bands back then put to much faith in the then “cutting edge” sound. Digital recording and effects were in their infancy and they were nothing near the specs that we have today. The move from analog recordings to digital produced a weak and sterile sound. However, everything then sounded that way so we didn’t pay much attention. We were too busy rubbing our parachute pants together with anyone and everyone out on the dance floor.
Try listening to some of that music now. For example, put on Big Audio Dynamite’s “No. 10, Upping St.” You know they’re rocking, but it just doesn’t come through. That, my friends, is the sound of early digital technology. Small and cold, with gaps of nothingness surrounding each note and chord. Even with Mick Jones reuniting with Joe Strummer on this release, it still lacks that Combat Rock. And what were we thinking back then with all that sax!?! Sax solos belong on jazz records, not rock records. There’s no way that sax is going to beat out the ax. And for that matter, keyboards are cool, but they make a nice addition to the guitar, not a substitute. Come on, rockin’ out on a Roland AX-1 Keytar looks just plain stupid.
Anywho, fast-forward to today. Washington D.C. resident and musician extraordinaire, Sebastian Thomson has been honing his craft with his amazing post-rock power trio Trans Am. Starting out with the band’s first few releases that were rocking groove powered instrumentals, they slowly morphed into adding vocals and including more and more electronic sounds such as keyboards and drum machines. Though Trans Am is still a vital part of Thomson’s carrier, he thought it time to produce a solo release. For the past decade, Trans Am has been his proving ground for crafting, The Frequency, perhaps THE most quintessential post-80s album. In fact, The Frequency is so post-80s it’s nearly the next best thing to being there.
However, this is not a Weird Al send-up, my rad friends. This release is totally serious, and to the max. Thomson has ingeniously crafted a wall of sound – early-80s style – that fills up every crevice of the ear. It’s big, it’s warm, and lacking that digital lifelessness that cursed so many recordings of that era. In other words, this album fuckin’-a rocks!
The Frequency’s precision is amazing. Check out the Thomas Dolby-sounding keys on “Allnite,” the Cult “Love Removal Machine” riffing of “Erasing Yourself,” and the Gary Numan “Cars” pitch-shifting antics on “Take Me Away.” There’s countless other riffs and sounds that float through the cranium and trigger audio flashbacks. On “Music as Entertainment” alone there’s that near staccato bass-groove, the reverbed seagull squawking saxophone, and the super slap-backed guitaring that would make The Edge proud.
Now make no mistake, this album isn’t about sensitive, Casio pansying around. This album can rock, and rock hard. Right out of the gate, “You’re the Perfect Size” gets the heart and fist pumping. Once you’ve mastered the soundscape that is The Frequency, you’re rock-out ethos will be hard pressed not to skip to “Moonburn,” “Big Cars Big Guns,” and the late 80s Ministry-dirge of “Forgot.” And there are the vocals. They’re everywhere, and they sound great. How about the strained, whispered yell, á la Mick Jones, demonstrated throughout? And not just in English my jingoistic dance-floor partygoers, but there are the creepy Spanish-echoed lyrics on “Chicas” and Rico Suave meets ABC stylings of “Zapatos Blancos.”
What’s also nice to note is that The Frequency doesn’t just stop at the studio door. Thomson has built a full-on live outfit with fellow D.C. cronies Aaron Claxton of Wooly Mammoth on guitar and keys, John Warnock of The Classified on bass, Rob C on drums, and his little brother, Julian Thomson, from Argentine noise group La Ruina on saxophone and even more keyboards. To echo the sentiment of “Allnite,” “Move that ass! Move that ass!” and get one of the best albums from the early-80s via 2004.

Descendents – ‘merican EP

Reviewing a Descendents release is kind of like eating your favorite ice cream. You pretty much know what you’re in for before it even hits your lips. Basically, the Descendents are the grandpapies of punk-pop. Much like the Ramones, Stooges, and countless other pioneers of various punk angles, they get heaps of props and praise while young wankers like Green Day, Sum 41, and Good Charlotte get heaps of cash. Like the poor black artists that Elvis and Pat Boone ripped off, the pioneers get bupkiss and the pop-culture, mass marketed, white bread get the spoils. Anyway, you get the idea.
The Descendents are back at it again, and they’re wetting our whistles with the “merican EP before the big gulp, full-length Cool to Be You, comes out. Though they’re at the age to be propagating the next wave of post-punk post-punkers, the boys of The Descendents are still full of beans. Fast-paced and up-beat, short tunes with witty, humorous lyrics that aren’t necessarily Plato or Nietzsche, but non-the-less coated with wisdom. Oh yeah, when lead singer Milo Aukerman, Ph. D. is off on sabbatical from the Descendents pulling bio-chem duty, Stephan, Bill, and Karl swap out singers with ex-Dag Nasty vox, Dave Smalley, and hang out the “ALL is Open for Business” sign. Yet another influential, maybe arguably more than the Descendents, 80s punk-pop outfit that gets more cred than bread.
The first two tracks off “merican are off Cool to Be You. “Nothing with You” is about hanging out with that special someone and shirking all responsibilities except for channel surfing. “‘merican” deals with our grand country’s sordid accomplishments. Leading off with “We flipped our finger to the King of England, stole our country from the Indians” sets the tone of this ode to old glory. A juxtaposition of the problems of the country we all know and love. It won’t be replacing “The Star-Spangled Banner” any time soon, but it’s probably more historically accurate.
The other two (actually three) songs are bonus tracks. “Here With Me” is another punky number about pining way for lost love. “I Quit,” is an interesting track, considering it’s on an EP for an up coming full length. “I Quit” seems to be the answer to accusations of selling out, being away from the Mrs. while on tour, and becoming a “Mick Jagger, playing the pixie at 50 or 60.” The bonus, bonus track is that after “I Quit” there’s a long pause and a slow number comes on that’s obviously not a reprise. Considering “It’s Alive” is said quite often, it’s about either a deep relationship, or a lady-friend full of the fruit of a young man’s loins. Enjoy!

Trapist – Ballroom

Musically, Trapist remind me of a story I recently heard. A guy at a spring training baseball game announced to the crowd that he intended to complete “The 999,” meaning he would attempt to eat nine hot dogs and drink nine beers during the course of the nine inning game. The crowd immediately began passing word of this incredible feat around until the entire stadium was rallying around this Chosen One, virtually ignoring the baseball game going on, willing him to make it and often spontaneously shouting out words of praise and encouragement. Sadly, he failed (he didn’t factor in the 16 ounce beers and I think there was a seventh-inning retch), but the point has been made. Trapist is an Austrian trio that has a few too many Vienna sausages, but you gotta love “em for it.
Don’t let my uncouth story mislead you – Trapist is a brilliant, intellectually experimental band continuing the strong European tradition of the avant-garde. The comparisons to the works of experimental pioneers like Pierre Schaeffer and Jim Valentino are automatic, although more with respect to their intent than to their sound. And of course there’s the inevitable reference to John Cage, whose minimalist principles and distaste for the status quo are apparent at every turn in Ballroom. However, Trapist has a different take on things than these musicians’ musique concrete forefathers. Rather than concerning themselves with the manipulation of their acoustic sound, they meld it with electronically produced effects, creating an amalgamation that at times sounds like the soundtrack for the schizophrenic.
In addition, despite their “traditional” lineup of percussion, guitar, and bass (although every member is multi-instrumental), one rarely listens to these instruments in a traditional manner at all. Probably the most impressive example is Martin Brandimayr’s translation of his drum kit into a sonically texturized ambient instrument. It’s a bit hard to explain, but by softly brushing his snare and prominently sustaining a partially closed hi-hat hit he manages, in a way, to make his drums sing.
That’s exactly what sets Trapist apart from all the other mad scientists cutting and pasting abstract sonic collages – every “song” on Ballroom has a certain level of musicality and musicianship. Despite often lacking any sense of structure, the music still manages to evoke moods and feelings and convey ideas, much like free jazz. In fact, Trapist embodies the old jazz adage “it’s the notes you don’t play;” just listen to the first few minutes of the opening track “Time Axis Manipulation (part 1).” The restraint is incredible.
It’s very difficult to come to any conclusions about Ballroom. It’s not “music” in the traditional sense; it’s clearly not anything I would listen to for fun. But it’s a statement. It requires a very serious listen, an open mind, and an appreciation for technique, feel, and art in its purest sense. Like all great experimental musicians, the folks in Trapist are expanding boundaries, revealing wide new tracts of sonic territory other musicians will be exploring for years to come.
Yet the question remains – how many hot dogs can they eat?

The One AM Radio – A Name Writ in Water

This review will never do justice to the beauty of A Name Writ in Water. Honestly folks, you need to hear this to understand. Even the packaging is beautiful with its gray translucent cover of an endless ocean horizon, which is a good physical description of the music, endless shades of gray splendor.
Hrishikesh Hirway, mastermind of The One AM Radio, describes his sound as being “somewhere between bedroom electronica and singer/songwriter.” To get a little more accurate perception of what to expect, think the delicate simplicity of Iron & Wine, the flawless mixture of electronica and real instrumentation of Namelessnumberheadman, and the lush textured arrangements of Badly Drawn Boy. That is definitely a lot of high praise, but Hirway, having released a whole slew of EPs and splits with the likes of Ted Leo, proves his legitimacy. I am really impressed with Hirway’s knack for knowing when to let the music do the talking. For the most part, A Name Writ in Water, as well as his past works, is minimal on the instrumentation relying more on lush sound washes and Hirway’s eerily beautiful hushed vocals take center stage. However, he does a wonderful job of building up the music’s intensity enough to where his voice is no longer needed to fill your headphones. In fact, two of my favorite songs, “This is a Document” and “Shivers,” are completely instrumental and utilize the violin.
The main difference between this album and past One AM Radio releases is the addition of more upbeat, almost danceable beats. “Those Distant Lights” is the best example of this new-found upbeat poppy sound with its almost Nintendo-like synth lines floating over a nice poppy drumbeat. “Witness” has what is easily my favorite vocal melody on the record when he sings “The grass and dust and summer dusk is just settling down. There’s nowhere we would rather be. As day wanes, our shadows stretch below. It’s perfect where we are, as the sun hangs low.”
The most amazing thing about this record is Hirway’s uncanny ability to use multiple instruments – trumpet, violin, singing saw, upright bass – and throw in some very organic electronics to create seamless ballads. The second most amazing thing is that it will be released on Level Plane of all places. The thing that makes this so amazing is I would never in a million years expect Level Plane to release something like this. Level Plane is better known for manic hardcore by the likes of City of Caterpillar, Neil Perry, and Racebannon. But thank goodness they got a hold of this lovely record. I guess if I had to come up with some sort of complaint for this record it would be that the songs are not long enough. Most of these songs don’t even break the three-minute mark, which I think is a crime. That’s really not that much of a complaint though because there are 13 songs that provide plenty of music to digest without getting boring, and I definitely want more.
I am interested in seeing if Hirway will keep with the more upbeat feel of this album or if he will go back to the more mellow approach. Either way, I’m sure his future outputs will be as gorgeous as this one if not better.

Local H – Whatever Happened to P.J. Soles?

Local H. You might remember this as the band that didn’t have a bassist. What was borderline-innovative back in the late 90s can now almost be considered old-hat. Paving the way for such artists as the White Stripes and The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, bands can now feel comfortable forging ahead without having to find (or even worse…hire!) a bass player to fill in the low end.
Unlike the aforementioned bands, Local H’s lead guitarist/singer actually modified his guitar to output bass signals. The result is a full-sounding two-piece band that can be just as heavy as a three-piece or even a four-piece band. I saw them when they toured with Stone Temple Pilots, and I was searching for a bassist on stage for the entire show. They sound just as good live as they do on disc.
The overall feel of Whatever Happened to P.J. Soles? is upbeat, energetic, and still carries a little bit of the “angry at people” attitude. “Everyone Alive” starts off with an all-too-familiar thrashing three-chord progression that is bound to start a few nostalgic mosh pits. Being from Illinois, you could call “California Songs” their anti-anthem. Local H spends four minutes complaining about the over-abundance of songs about California. Like a ode to Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain,” the vocal exclaim, “Here we go again / It’s never gonna end / We’re all so sick of California Songs / We know you love L.A. / There’s nothing left to say / Please No More California Songs.” Just for good measure, they even throw in a “and fuck New York too” every once in a while. Nice touch.
One thing that I like about the album is the continuity from track to track. The drums usually keep going at the end of the song as the guitars and vocals drop out, but then return with another song over the same rhythm. The lyrics fell a bit short of the music in that the lyrics were extremely repetitive, and sometimes a verse would repeat for the entirety of the song. This can assure Local H that at their live performances, people who don’t know the lyrics at the beginning of the song will be singing the lyrics with confidence by the end.
Although it doesn’t break any boundaries or trends, Whatever Happened to P.J. Soles? is a great- sounding no-nonsense rock album that is bound to please old Local H fans and pick up some new ones in the process.

Inner Surge – Beneficial Fever

Holy shit! Now, I know that many bands have friends in unlikely places: Dire Straits had Tony Blair (PM of the UK, for the politically challenged); Bob Marley had Teddy Taylor (ok, another Brit politician); Radiohead have Vladimir Putin (note to self: check that last reference…). And now, to this list of immortals, we can add Inner Surge and…Steven Hawking? Well, it certainly sounds like you’re listening to the dulcet tones of ol’ mister Dark Matter when you first enter Inner Surge’s website.

And who could blame him? The band, for the most part a one-man project from Steve Moore, is a curious mix of metal and ProTools, a kind of make-your-own-Metallica that sounds a lot better than that encapsulated description. Steve has a firm grasp of songwriting and recording that gives his band’s output a professional, measured sheen that shows off progressive metal chops perfectly. It’s often hard to make me listen to anything that deviates from the righteous path of indie-rock; Inner Surge succeed by targeting the lyrics to appeal to the sad leftist in me, yet also by giving the basic sound an intriguing top-coat of electronic flourishes that seems to be frequently struggling to throw off the rock-based template that the songs being with. Recommended for those who mourn late period Rage Against the Machine, or anyone who likes their metal with a dash of innovation.

Black Heart Procession – In the Fishtank, Vol. 11

The Black Heart Procession is probably one of my favorite bands, making it hard for me to review this record accurately without being biased. I immediately want to say that anything I didn’t like about this collaboration was the fault of Solbakken. I say this, because I have no idea what kind of band Solbakken is or what end result is being sought. All things aside, there are enough features about this record that Black Heart Procession fans will find enjoyable.
The vocals on most of the songs are meant to be more of an afterthought; this is stated in the liner notes. This is considerably different from the way that Pall Jenkins’ vocals are in Black Heart Procession. This record sees them washed through with reverb, when they appear at all. Many of the songs on this record are presumably sung by members of Solbakken. I assume this because it doesn’t sound like anyone from Black Heart Procession and the insert credits no particular person with performing the vocals on specific songs.
The music sounds almost exactly like Black Heart Procession for all six tracks. There aren’t many songs where it is distinguishable that Solbakken is even participating. Anyone who has heard Black Heart Procession before will be immediately familiar with the acoustic guitars, piano, and various other instruments normally employed by the band. This is fleshed out somewhat by a few electronic elements I assume Solbakken brought to the table.
“Voiture En Rouge” begins with a monologue spoken in French over a bed of spooky piano lines. After a few minutes, Jenkins’ vocals come wafting into the song only to be usurped somewhere in the middle and reinstated at the end. “Dog Song” is probably the only complete let-down on the record. The members of Solbakken must have written the lyrics because they are insipid. The saving grace is the brief moment when Jenkins sings part of the refrain with them. “Nervous Persian” is held up by The Black Heart Procession’s graceful swooning piano and drums. It would fit perfectly amongst any other Black Heart Procession songs. “A Taste of You and Me” has a piano part that is extremely reminiscent of Belle and Sebastian. Once again the vocals are handled by Solbakken and are best if ignored. “Things Go on with Mistakes” is a wonderful song altogether. It has a stuttering drum machine behind an elegant piano and guitar track.
Although I wouldn’t recommend this record for anyone just getting into The Black Heart Procession, longtime fans will find many things to enjoy in it. The songs are well structured musically even if some of them are lyrically vacant. It mostly makes me curious as to what the next Black Heart Procession full-length will sound like. That can only be a good thing.

Jenny Choi – Postcard Stories

The first thing I thought when I got Jenny Choi’s Postcard Stories was, “Jesus, Jenny is a good-looking woman,” the second was, “Why I have I never heard this before!?” Both questions will be obvious ones to anyone who has seen or heard Jenny Choi and her Postcard Stories, a phenomenal pop album that is so much more.
As soon as Postcard Stories is played, any listener will recognize the album’s main strength immediately: Jenny Choi’s fantastic voice. Throughout the album, her voice is sugar sweet, and her songs are filled great vocal expression that works perfectly over all the tracks. Singing with great versatility, she shows us how multi faceted her voice is in a number of tracks. In “Prometheus,” Choi’s voice is like dark velvet, as she seductively croons in a style that wouldn’t sound out of place on the album of female jazz singer. Choi alternates between styles throughout the album, her voice sounds just as comfortable singing like we’d expect on a pop album: sugar-sweet and upbeat as hell, as in “Driving.”
Choi’s singing, though giving the album its strong backbone, is not the only element of Postcard Stories that shines bright. In the style of Ben Folds Five, Choi drives each track with keyboard, giving the album an overall feeling of frantic happiness. While her keyboard gives the album a lot of its mood and tempo, it can sometimes overpower the vocals, making them second place instead of their rightful first, as is the case in “First Day.” Aside from this, however, the album is driven in part by her strong keyboard. Unlike a lot of other pop, which can be repetitive and unimaginative, Choi branches out into songs whose jazz influence is plainly evident. “Plastic Mask” features wa-wa and funk guitar, and sounds more like Santana then Ben Folds.
Jenny Choi’s Postcard Stories is a stellar pop album, driven by Choi’s keyboard and fantastic voice. With obvious influences ranging from the more recent Ben Folds Five-era pop, to jazz and jazz-rock like Santana. Listeners will be amazed by Choi’s full voice, which is sweet and full of expression, and its great versatility in style. Postcard Stories will make anyone wonder why Jenny Choi’s not getting any wide airplay, and with good reason.

Eric Thompson – Locally World Famous

Gram Parsons called it Cosmic American Music, a term that reflected the paisley aesthetic of the late 60s. But this curious little sub-genre has managed to morph itself into various incarnations since then, from the 70s peaceful, easy California Country, to too-slick 1980s country pop, to the alt-country boom of the 90s, which was a couple of hit records from-as a friend of mine recently put it in reference to Wilco’s debut, A.M.-saving pop music. As for me, I know it strikes many as cliché, but I still get a familiar, welcome little thrill from hearing that tremulous, liquid stirring of pedal steel rise up through the mix.
Eric Thompson is a California-bred roots artists who on Locally World Famous’s best songs corrals the best of his home state’s sound to evoke The Mavericks or Los Lobos, and who at times reaches back a little further to give an unironic nod to Elvis Presley.
“Gone, Gone, Gone” could probably be the album’s hit single. It’s a buoyant song with a great rhythm, and its elliptical lyrics careen through images of loneliness, self-reflection, and even politics. The best of what Thompson does comes together in this song, with its country instrumentation, energetic pace, and blithe sensibility. Along with his more original sound, Thompson can also step out and incorporate different borrowed styles when he wants to. “Road Yer Travelin’” incorporates Cat Stevens’s endearingly fractured delivery, an odd changeup from the richer, country-tenor tones of the rest of the album, which for the most part call to mind singers like Joe Ely and, in some places, even The Mavericks’ Raul Malo.
“The Beginning” is one minor misstep, an Allman Brothers-style jam that never really gets off the ground. In a genre that appreciates and accepts virtuousic acoustic instrumentation above all, it’s curious and a little dissapointing to hear synthesizers used not inventively, but in places where they don’t really seem needed. The songwriting and overall performance are so persuasive over most of the album, though, that the 80s synth thing, while distracting, never gets in the way too much. Ditto the backwards-looking use of a gaggle of female backup singers, a staple of overwrought 80s post-classic-rock and something that never fails to send up a little flare of warning when I hear it. Again, it’s not too much of a detraction, but you get the feeling that those vocal tracks could have been unceremoniously dropped without losing anything.
Locally World Famous is a solid, if occasionally uneven, entry into its thankfully long-lived genre, of which Eric Thompson is a skilled purveyor.

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