The Deadly Snakes – Orlando – House of Blues, FL – 2004-11-24

It’s hard for some to get past the media hype surroundint The Hives and actually give them a fair listen. They got swept up in the whole garage-rock takeover alongside The Strokes, The White Stripes, and The Vines. It’s easy to dismiss them as another group jumping on the proverbial bandwagon… Until you discover that the band from Sweden have been playing this music since 1993. Their latest tour leads them to the House of Blues in Orlando for their only Florida appearance. With them they bring two above average opening acts.

The Deadly Snakes are from Toronto, Canada, but their sound is straight up Detroit. It’s the white man’s version of the blues, mixed with gritty rock ‘n roll. Expanding beyond the safety net of guitar-bass-drums, they include saxophone, harmonica, and even maracas in their set. It’s so good I begin to wonder if this band is a bit too good to be just the opener.

But then The Rogers Sisters appear onstage, and 30 seconds into their set I’m thinking, “The Deadly..who?” There are three people in this Brooklyn-based band: Jennifer Rogers on guitar and vocals, Laura Rogers on drums, and Miyuki Furtado on bass and vocals. They sound like a mixture of Le Tigre, Sleater Kinney, and Talking Heads. It’s intelligent, fun, danceable music that defies categorization, and they are exploding the stage with their confidence and energy. Furtado is in a perpetual state of motion that is contagious to all who watch, while Jennifer stands cool during her performance, acting as the stability to his chaos. The two compliment one another as yin and yang. As their 30-minute set ends, the audience is left begging for more. Surely The Rogers Sisters have just upstaged The Hives.

As expected, The Hives come out dressed in their trademark black and white outfits. Not expected is the tornado of energy they create within seconds of their first song, “Abra Cadaver”! First of all, the lights are much brighter than your average rock concert. They’ve got white lights bouncing off of their white jackets, and so the eyes are forced to adjust to all this information. Secondly, lead singer Pelle Almquist and lead guitarist Nicholaus Arson seem to have more energy than 5-year-olds after a chocolate binge, and they are everywhere at once. Upstage, downstage, in the air, on the floor. Photographing The Hives is like photographing a sporting event!

Once the eyes have adjusted, the ears are still working to catch up with the speed with which they play. The familiar hit songs like “Main Offender,” “Hate To Say I Told You So,” and “Walk Idiot Walk” are much faster and more aggressive than on their records. The intensity of all this sensory overload sparks numerous pits and spontaneous crowd surfing. Just when the energy level seem to be at its peak, Almquist begins the first of several jumps into the crowd, and riots nearly ensue. The crowd is crawling over top of one another to get closer to the singer with the pin-up good looks. Instead of retreating, he lays himself deeper in the crowd’s arms.

Clearly Almquist is quite comfortable with the attention that’s bestowed upon him. He prances around the stage like Mick Jagger, does jump splits, and offers witty, sarcastic narrative to the audience throughout the 70-minute set. “I hear that Florida is where people go to retire. I hope you can handle the excitement of The Hives, ” he teases. And later, before plunging into one of their faster songs he announces, “I feel the earthquake coming. Go! Save Yourselves! Get out before it’s too late!”

This isn’t to say that the rest of the band aren’t part of the act. All are highly aware of the importance of “the performance.” During the song “Diabolic Scheme,” the band freezes in mid motion for one full minute. Frozen in time, until Almquist starts moving his trademark big Clockwork Orange-like eyes, and then the music kicks back in right where it left off.

From my vantage point, I can see that both The Deadly Snakes and The Rogers Sisters watch The Hives’ entire set from the side of the stage. It is a rare thing for bands to watch one another after touring together night after night. It is also a rare thing for a band’s live performance to so far exceed my expectations. The Hives have proven themselves to be one of the greatest live acts around today.

Animal – Sawn Creator

It seems that with home-made, lo-fi music, you run the risk of making music that’s always going to be more interesting to you than it is to other people. And, come to think of it, that goes for any music made by anyone. And it applies to more things than just music, really. Whatever the medium, the artist may end up with art that only he truly appreciates. But it seems that making music for yourself, and by yourself, can be a good head start on making music that’s most appreciated by you alone.

That’s my reaction to Sawn Creator by Animal. I feel like I probably won’t ever appreciate the music as much as Mr. Nemec does. Hearing the invariably reliable pre-programmed drums, the distorted guitar and keyboards, and the monochromatic vocals on track after track left me wanting more variation. I suspect that its creator hears more going on here than I do. But that’s also how I originally felt about the phenomenon of Shawnimals, which have grown on me over time. In fact, maybe this album is the music equivalent of those little stuffed things: quirky, unassuming, and ultimately endearing. The cover art for Sawn Creator even looks suspiciously like Shawnimals being made.

I have to say, something about the tone of the guitars and keyboards, combined with the melodies themselves, has forced parts of these tunes into my short-term memory. While not exactly catchy or poppy, sometimes Animal’s songs hit you with something memorable (at least in the short term). “To the Future” features a fuzzed out guitar line that bleeds into a little keyboard run, and I can hear it in my head at will now. That song also features deadpan vocals and an air of disquiet, hallmarks of some of our best post-punk. When performed by one person in a small room with (probably) home-studio equipment, it loses much of its punch.

“Washington, D.C.” has the keyboards and drums playing melodies simultaneously, and the effect can be either intriguing or distracting, depending on your mood and patience. Instead of the canned drums, the track features only handclaps – and even then only at times. Coming halfway through the album, it was a nice breather. “I Got a Knife” begins with a jaunty keyboard pattern, which seems to be at odds with the ominous title. It’s a little hard to tell what the song’s actually about, but it is probably not about stabbing. However, it does seem like a stripped-down version of something that might pass for an early My Dad is Dead song (speaking of one-man shows). All in all, it feels like the winningest track of the bunch.

Animal’s lyrics are packaged with the CD. They tend to be a little odd, but in a fun way. Nothing that would rival Captain Beefheart’s non-sequiturs, but also nothing that you’re likely to hear on FM radio either. Overall, the 25 or so minutes of music here are upbeat, playful, and sometimes clever. I’m sure Mr. Nemec had fun making it. And he sure is an enterprising young man, putting out his albums steadily while also doing the packaging and running a label. I just wish there were a little something extra in it that made me want to hear it more than the few times I have already.

The Transmissionary Six – Get Down

Having courageously jumped from their respective motherships just as alt-country mediocrity really began to set in, the duo of Terri Moeller (erstwhile drummer to The Walkabouts) and Paul Austin (former Willard Grant Conspiracy guitarist/songwriter) have made a compelling effort – as The Transmissionary Six – to rid themselves of the shackles of Americana cliché. That is something that continues with a tangible sense of self-confidence and craftsmanship on this, the duo’s third proper album, Get Down.

Recorded with the able assistance of several accomplices, including Tucker Martine (production aide of Jim White, Laura Veirs, et al.) and John Askew (from labelmates Tracker), Get Down is an album drenched in foggy deconstructed arrangements. With instruments chosen to fit the songs and not to satisfy band employment or muso ego, this collection leaves the alt-country music manual at the last truckstop, in favour of an unpretentious lo- to mid-fi aesthetic and an inventive stylistic palette.

Twinning eerie cello and sparse strumming, opener “Black Tin Rocket” sounds like a demo Kristin Hersh might have cut with REM circa New Adventures in Hi-Fi. With its elastic drum loops, mellotron, and Wurlitzer washes, the gorgeous “My New Name” recalls both Yo La Tengo’s I Can Hear the Heart Beating as One and Mary Lorson & Billy Coté’s Piano Creeps. Even better is the sublime piano/drum driven instrumental “Johnny & Waldo,” which sounds like a rather fine homage to soundtrack impresario Bernard Herrmann, with a rhythm bed cribbed from Krautrock legends Can thrown in for good measure. The rustic blues scratch of “Holiday Park” ups the eclecticism stakes even further, as does the dark distorted instrumental “Element,” proving that outside of the WGC/Walkabouts stable, Moeller and Austin have explored their collective record collections just as well as their own abilities.

However, there are some catches to all this commendable sonic (re)tooling. Essentially, no matter how well fashioned the frames for these songs are, something is sorely missing at the heart of the writing. Barely any of the lyrics stick, even after a dozen listens. There’s a somnambulant stream of otiose lyrics about cars, bars, cable TV, and almost anything else a heavy-touring band writes about when it can’t find any interesting inspiration. It doesn’t help that Moeller, as the primary vocalist, has little range, expression, or individuality. Sometimes she sounds like a bored Lucinda Williams, but mostly she just sounds bored with herself.

It’s not that the vocal/lyrical element is a total downer, and these comments aren’t meant as lazy disinterested criticisms. This writer really willed himself to love that side of the equation, but ultimately it’s a complete product not the component ingredients that should make this stand up to further listens. This all said, of course, Austin and Moeller were smart enough to break free from the tiredness of their musical pasts, so there’s a good chance they can break the chains of their current limitations and stretch their imaginations that much-wanted extra mile. Then maybe we’ll be calling them The Transmissionary Ten instead.

The Je Ne Sais Quoi – Secret Language EP

Yet another hard-rocking Swedish outfit with explosive riffs and juggernaut rhythms, the Je Ne Sais Quoi defies its pretentious moniker by pummeling you with the edgy angularity of Wire after a few too many drinks at the milkbar.

Providing the same dangerous joy as Seattle’s fantastic A-Frames with tortured guitars, monotone shouted vocals, and spazz-dance inducing beats, the JNSQ clearly has its priorities straight on this five-song EP. Each tune manages to be hyperactive, noisy, and in-the-pocket tight; grooving, catchy, and threatening at the same time. I don’t particularly like feeling threatened by a Swede, but since these threats take the form of surgical guitars and growling bass, I’ll relent to the impending reign of blows.

A battering like “Minstrel Show” is always welcome. The song races along at top speed with a healthy aggression but also a party-hound’s appreciation of the mojo’s appetite for relentless rhythms and infectious, tribal choruses. It allows you to be angry and communal at the same time, equally ready to lash out or join in a sour sing-along.

The JNSQ get a little meaner on “Death of Them,” perhaps more interested in conjuring the “neo-no-wave” sound the band aligns itself with. The physical effect of the tough drumming and the general menace of the instruments fits well with the aesthetic, though these Swedes dare to make it pop a little more than their no-wave progenitors. But it’s still that restless noisemaking that drives these rookies, and they bring the racket.

Secret Language is a visceral little nugget of attitude, style, and ideas that bodes well for the bands’ long-player, due soon. Sweden’s roster of bands that reinvigorate all those punk clichés and spit them back out has just grown by one. We’ll ignore the fancy French name; I assume you’re just trying to piss us off.

Allison Crowe – Tidings

Tis the season for packed malls, angry shoppers, and Christmas music. It seems anywhere you go from mid-November on, your ears will be bombarded with techno-carols and muzak versions of traditional pieces. It’s enough to make even those most filled with the joy of the season feel overwhelmed – and let’s not even get started on those of us who don’t celebrate Christmas at all. Like me.

Some may think it’s odd to be a non-Christian writing about a Christmas album, but I like Allison Crowe, and Tidings isn’t any old holiday disc. On this release, Allison offers up a mix of traditional hymns as well as a selection of covers all beautifully enveloped in her unique style. There are no hokey gimmicks and no cutesy kids’ songs. Best of all, there is enough of a blend of styles that you won’t find yourself bored at any point or on spiritual music overload.

The album begins with an excellent a capella version of “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear,” which immediately showcases her silky but strong voice. This moves quickly into a version of Joni Mitchell’s “River,” which is a hit just for being included, but Allison approaches the song by accompanying herself on piano and with tons of finesse. This is a simply beautiful track that fits just as easily with a spiritual album as it would a folk record.

Crowe’s other more modern covers include Leonard Cohen’s “Hallellujah,” Sarah McLachlan’s “Angel,” the Rolling Stones’ “Shine a Light,” and “Let it Be” and “In My Life,” both by the Beatles. The Cohen and McLachlan tunes are starkly stunning pieces that blend perfectly with the theme of Tidings. The Beatles songs fit as well, but it’s important to note that Crowe really makes these her own, whereas so many musicians come off like karaoke singers when attempting to tackle anything from the Fab Five catalog.

Allison’s approach for the other hymns is one of sheer simplicity. She is complemented on three tracks by David Baird (bass) and Kevin Clevette (drums), but everything else is just her and a piano with a little bit of tambourine. You will find the more familiar such as “Silent Night” and “The First Noel” side by side with the unusual “In the Bleak Midwinter” and “What Child is This?” All are presented with such poise and exquisiteness that you can’t help but feel inspired.

While Tidings is definitely a Christmas album, there is clearly quite a bit for most people to enjoy here. This would make a perfect backdrop to any holiday party or even just for a quiet winter night in front of a roaring fire. If you celebrate Christmas, this is one release that should be in your stereo for many Decembers to come.

Stellarscope – Wasted Time EP

What is it about the sound of crashing waves that is so relaxing? The experience is entirely destructive, chaotic, and most of all raucous, yet one can hardly help but feel awash in serenity merely sitting and listening to the pounding surf. Well, the veteran space-pop group Stellarscope has managed to plug directly into this sensation with their latest offering, the Wasted Time EP.

In Wasted Time, the folks in Stellarscope play space pop driven slowly forward by bass and drums as the guitars, vocals, and “space violin” build a massive wall of chaotic yet tranquillizing noise. The group borrows heavily and unabashedly from genre definer My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless, right down to the blurry cover art. Singer, Tommy Lugo’s vocals are distant and mournfull, often harkening back to the late Ian Curtis.

The first track on this EP opens rather deceptively with a bassline cruising at a brisk pace and transforming into a Joy Division-esque song containing what could very well be the only decipherable words on the EP, as Lugo can be heard muttering “Maybe today is a good day to die.” The next five tracks on the EP are one wall of sound after another, and even though none of them stand out particularly in my mind, they really don’t have to.

While Stellarscope’s Wasted Time probably won’t be likely leave a lasting impression on the listener, the 24 minutes of gentle swagger and aimless bliss it induces make up for this in spades. You’ve definitely got to be in the right mood to enjoy this type of music, but when that mood strikes you and you’ve got a half-hour to kill, Stellarscope’s Wasted Time is surely a stone-cold lock.

The Dwarves – The Dwarves Must Die

The Dwarves are a bunch of assholes. Blag Dahlia (vox) and HeWhoCanNotBeNamed (guitars) are perpetual 13-year-old dickweeds with heads full of violent, cock n’ balls-inspired punk rock. They hate everyone (including themselves, as they’ve faked their own deaths for the sake of publicity [pending]), and their mouths are filthier than Andrew Dice Clay, Sam Kinison, and Richard Pryor’s combined. Hold on, though, because the Dwarves are not nearly as funny. Their new LP, The Dwarves Must Die, may be overflowing with sophomoric humor, but the delivery is as funny as a Farley Brothers’ movie smeared in donkey shit. Read: not that much.

After 20 years of trafficking in the same meth-fueled, porn-inspired punk, the Dwarves seem to have hit a rut. In the era of “South Park,” where subversive humor requires more than a bushel of “fucks” and a peck of “shits” to adequately entertain, these San Francisco-by-way-of-Illinois rockers seem to think stringing together a few explicit references to rape and bodily functions qualifies them as “edgy” or “daring.” I’m not so sure. In fact, considering the rise in post-9/11 uber-irony, where it’s funnier to laugh at the kids who laugh at Williamsburg, I’m not so sure what’s subversive anymore. Certainly lines like “rip the cunt from the hole if the corpse is too old” (from “Blast”) are not, right? Maybe. Let’s ask Weird Al.

Music-wise, Blag and Co. are still tight and competent as ever. Queens of the Stone Age-style stoner grooves like “FEFU” are interspersed with practically radio-friendly gems (“Salt Lake City”) and alcoholic bouncers (“Go!”). Unfortunate attempts at rapping aside, the Dwarves display an unapologetic devotion to their fans, probably because the band realizes it’d be nothing but an unfortunate footnote in the novelty section of the Encyclopedia Rockicus without its asshole fans. Other highlights: mock-devotional “Christ on a Mic” plays with choral hymns while Blag spits vehemently over militant drumming and deft turntablism. And, although this may get me killed, Blag’s vocal similarities to the Johns of They Might Be Giants on “The Dwarves Must Die” are uncanny. Yeah, I said. What are you going to do, Blag? Poop in my mouth? Oh, how edgy!

Le Futur Pompiste – Your Stories and Your Thoughts

Some people believe that too much of something good can be bad for you, and I suppose this extends to the music sphere. Fortunately for lovers of 60s-style lounge pop in the southern European and Brazilian vein, Le Futur Pompiste’s new addition to the genre does not diminish the charms or joy of the listening experience, in spite of the band’s aural similarity to several impressive groups, specifically Stereolab, Komeda, and Ivy.

Released by one of the three great Spanish labels, Siesta, Le Futur Pompiste’s debut album, Your Stories and Your Thoughts, is a beautiful marriage of classic 60s pop instruments and melodies with contemporary electronics and gorgeous girl-boy harmonies. The Finnish quintet opens the album with “Sunflower,” featuring catchy percussion and attractive duet singing by Jessika Rapo and Einar Ekstrom. The vibrant, sweet lyrics are delivered with a genuine, carefree approach: “Beauty lies in the season, seasons do change some time / But they’ll always be back / Beauty lies in the music, music does end some time / But there’ll always be more.”

Tracks like “A Way to Exist” and “Pleasant Solutions” recall Stereolab in the mid-90s, especially because Rapo sings in a somewhat detached yet sensuous manner like Laetitia Sadier. Axel Ekstrom’s keyboard is the dominant instrument on “A Way to Exist,” and it fuses the song with an early 80s energy. Ekstrom produces sharp, choppy synthesizer lines that perfectly complement Rapo’s vocals. “Pleasant Solutions” finds Rapo explaining her frustrations: “Hours and hours I spend, to search my mind for pleasant solutions / But when emotions take over, common sense gives in for the temptation.”

Le Futur Pompiste’s inclusion of horns and flute through guest musicians is a wonderful revelation, especially on the crunching, multi-voiced “Don’t Let Go” and the slower, contemplative “When Waves Settle Down.” The rhythm section of Ville Hopponen and Johann Hoglund on drums and bass, respectively, maintains a perfect balance on every track, particularly shining on the beat-heavy, speedier “Pretend to Smile.” With an album drenched in so much sun and outdoor club sounds, a song at the sea seems mandatory, so “It’s Not You” serves that purpose. The keyboard swirls and spacey sounds form a polychromatic atmosphere straight out of 60s French Riviera cinematic scenes, and Hoglund dishes out hypnotic vibes.

Le Futur Pompiste’s final track on Your Stories and Your Thoughts is its most unique, with a much more electronic sheen than previous songs’ less manipulated appearance. “Seeds” is trippy, with lyrics covering volcanic eruptions, child survivors, and reprogramming. Somewhat paradoxically, Rapo sounds warmer and more affected here than she does on any other track. “Seeds” is an unexpected and delicious ending to a great album that’s ideal for dinner parties and long drives with the right mate in the summer or autumn.

The Winter Blanket – Prescription Perils

The Winter Blanket has long had a close affiliation with Low. Low’s Alan Sparhawk even produced The Winter Blanket’s first two full-length albums. Needless to say, this band bore significant similarities to the slow-core pop stylings of masters of that genre Low, but they were strong releases in their own right. Now, with Prescription Perils and a change of locale for the two principle songwriters, The Winter Blanket shows off a style much more its own, and while there’s still enough for old fans to enjoy, it’s a pleasure to hear the band stretching its wings creatively.

Singers/songwriters Doug Miller and Stephanie Davila moved from Illinois to Minnesota, while the other two band members, Kim Murray and Paul Blomquist, remained. That geographic break, plus the two-year break in recording, allowed the band to put together two full albums’ worth of demos that resulted in the long-awaited Prescription Perils. The formula still consists primarily of acoustic guitars and light bass and drums, but the result of several more upbeat tracks shows an affinity for quiet rock in the vein of Cat Power of Townes Van Zant.

Every listen, I’m shocked by the hard-rocking opening to the album, as “Four Tornados” kicks off with some loud guitar and drums, but the acoustic comes in, and harmonica flirts in and out, and the song drifts back into comforting, light pop territory. There’s still that upbeat style that reminds me of bands like Elf Power in the best ways. Something of Cat Power’s intense yet folk-driven ways carry over to the quiet but powerful “Darkness Failed You.”

Still, the slow-core style of stark percussion and light, primarily acoustic guitars is present on many of these songs. Both Miller and Davila mix their vocals to their moody best on “Last Resort,” and the low and mellow “Darkness on the Edge of Town.” “Wedding Vow” might be the prettiest slow-core song the band has made yet. There’s a quiet folk sensibility with some alt-country twang mixing to perfection on one of my favorite tracks, “Why I Act This Way.” Davila’s voice shines, very stark and up front, on “On My Way,” which adds some rich cello tones, and “Town of Talk” shows her carrying a simple folk tune.

It’s nice to hear The Winter Blanket moving away from the Low comparisons to a good degree. There’s some more upbeat rock, some folk and alt-country leanings, and still plenty of that quiet and contemplative indie pop. I’ve enjoyed hearing this band mature with each subsequent release, and fans of these genres will find on Prescription Perils a band comfortably on the top of its game.

Four Tet – Divorce Series: Number One Split 7"

Very rarely do I find myself in the position to write about a release that actually leaves my verbose self scrambling for a way to describe something … So I say ‘kudos’ to Ache Records for managing to leave me somewhat at a loss for words with the first installment of the label’s 7” ‘Divorce Series.’

The ‘Divorce Series,’ of course, is, in the words of the label, “…a series of nine 7”s devoted to challenging those who pigeonhole art, forcing beauty into makeshift genres…” (phrasing copped from Ache Records in order to aid my own lost cause of explaining this release). If this first split 7” is any indication, this series is headed to be an uncompromised haven for oddly surreal rhythmic notions, indeed.

Hella’s instrumental “Stephen Hawking Has a Posse” has an awesome song title; what it doesn’t have, however, is a predictable musical layout. As a whole, the song is a bludgeoned mess of plodding noise, anchored only by an outstanding drum track provided by a man identified only as ‘Zach.’ Zach does a fine job of holding this one together, as every surge of bass, guitars, or background ‘white noise’-type sound is held together by the tight drumming. Everything about the track is aggressive – even the spooky, seemingly tuneless guitar squalls that flail amongst the mix at random intervals. There are some brief surges of melody that float to the surface at times, but the most important thing about this song is the bad-ass drumming, which rightfully serves as the center of attraction for the entire track.

Sample-happy Four Tet (best known for his remixes for Radiohead, Beth Orton, and Super Fury Animals) offers up the eerily titled “Both When I Am Alone and We Both Are.” This track sounds more like a deconstruction of an existing song than it does a song in its own right, though the style here does lend the song a sort of ‘aura’ of wonder. The song’s melody piece stays strong throughout the tune – it’s the jazzy drum samples and distortions that lend the track its very frenzied/schizophrenic vibe. Every time the melody comes back to the mix, though, the rhythm track takes a backseat to it; while all sort of computer-aided distortions, edits, and stutters are going on in the drumming, the melody cuts through the staggered interruptions and holds song together. The overall effect is very dreamy, but disjointedly surreal.

Taking into account the goal of Ache Records’ ‘Divorce Series’ of releases, it’s fairly evident that this split 7” is a solid example of what to expect from the series. Hella’s booming drums draw attention away from the mess of a sonic montage that surrounds them; in contrast, Four Tet’s sweetly subtle melody track draws attention away from the chaotic mess of sounds that serves as the song’s drum section. More importantly, neither band sounds like anything I recall hearing before. Still, this would be classified under what most folks I know would call difficult listening. This 7” is good, yes, but fickle listeners with more ‘polished’ taste would probably be best served to pass; listeners with a higher tolerance for seemingly nonsensical performances might get something worthwhile out of this 7″ though.

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