Harris Newman – Accidents with Nature and Each Other

So anyone that’s been exposed to media of any sort in the last four years is probably well aware that some “really bad stuff” happened. Obvious bashing of the current president aside, the last quarter of 2001 to present saw some rather horrific tragedy and a big ugly war in a desert. It’s crude and an understatement, yet this is a music review not a political treatise. As with any tragic event where a nation’s morale and temper is at stake, media responds with oftentimes over-the-top rebuttals and suddenly everyone is looking for the America that Capra envisioned. In the music world, the “modern country” churned out their red-neck patriotism while alt-rock responded in kind on the other side of the fence. However, it can be an unpleasant prospect to think that America is portrayed by 3 Door Down’s “When I’m Gone” or whatever countrified sentimentality was released in the pop-country arena. Enter Harris Newman. Following the current trend of everything going pear shaped, Newman hails from Montreal. However, on his recent release he manages to pack more Americana into his these tracks than what was fond on the whole of pop radio in 2002-2003.

Accidents with Nature and Each Other opens up with “The Butcher’s Block,” and after a subtle nod to the Middle East with a raga-tinged introduction, the track opens up into some impressive guitar work with a decided bluegrass tinge to it. “Cloud City” follows, and while I was unable to find a solid connection to Episode V (that would be The Empire Strikes Back for the geek-challenged), there was more impressive finger work interwoven with even more impressive finger work to create six-string drone. “Continental Drift” is even more intense, utilizing quick repetitive picking to a dizzying effect. If this was plugged in with reverb and 20,000 effects pedals, it would be passed off as shoegazey psychedelia. However, in this state it sounds like the throbbing muscle beneath the downy gauze.

The album is not all picking and grinning. “It’s a Trap (Part I)” (again with the Star Wars references?), sounds more like an eno-ish experimentation in sound rather than a guitar instrumental. Here the sliding lap steel takes a back seat to the wallowing drone driving the track. At times, the tone borders on flat out noise meant to annoy more than entertain. Newman backs off however, just when the urge to skip to the next track becomes too hard to resist, and segues into “Lakeshore Drive.” Here the drone allows for more gorgeous acoustic work to ride along side for a rather nice trip through the kudzu besides an empty highway of a lonely interstate.

As a whole, the album can be a frustrating listen. Oftentimes, Newman becomes so intent on proving his intense devotion to the guitar that he doesn’t allow the listener time to relax. The two ambient drone tracks (there’s a “It’s a Trap Part II” as well), are more of a curious aside rather than actual songs. They mainly serve as an extended segue to the track directly following. The sound can be intense at times, and quite possibly headache-inducing. Newman manages to create a lot of tension with six strings and a lap-steel guitar. Most of these tracks would go great on a mix-tape or CD to break the monotony of random indie rock or a perfect segue between the instrumental stylings of Tortoise or Tristeza.

The high point on the disk is the closer “Driving All Night With Only My Mind.” Here, Newman relaxes and allows everything to come together creating a moody piece perfect for cigarettes and open windows with only the stars for light. It’s a warm honest moment for the album, but it inevitably leaves one wishing there was more of this.

Above This Fire – In Perspective

Did you ever see the book, What if They Mated? The authors basically took two photos of celebrities and Photoshoped their distinctive facial characteristics together to form a new picture that looked like both the originals, but neither at the same time. Musically speaking, In Perspective does the same thing.

Straight out of Cleveland, Ohio, if you can imagine, Above This Fire is exactly what the mating of Comeback Kid and Unearth would sound like. The band takes the Swedish metal and breakdown-laden assault of the latter and combines it with the raw energy and punk aesthetic of the former. These guys utilize everything from metallic guitar leads and blast beats to hardcore chord progressions and punk drumming.

In all actuality, the blasts are fairly impressive, as they are well placed and totally solid. The drummer is probably the most solid member of the band; however, his overall style is pretty straight-forward with very few frills. Vocally, the band mixes things up with everything from hardcore yells and throaty screaming to gang vocals some spoken passages.

For the most part, a lot of the guitar work is pretty simple and stays away from any technical fretting, but it manages not to sound dumbed down or like the musicians have a lack of talent. They have a ton of breakdowns on In Perspective, but a lot of them are pretty typical with a few exceptions here and there.

Above This Fire is pretty generic, if not completely derrivitive, but the artists do a decent job nonetheless. In Perspective doesn’t do much to distance them from the hundereds of second-teir metalcore acts, but they have some solid things to build on. Hopefully, natural progression and understanding of music will take hold and Above This Fire will do something special in the future.

Submission Hold – What Holds Back the Elephant

When I saw this record in my review packet, I was immediately taken back to a summer afternoon when I was in high school. My friend Beau had booked Submission Hold to play a house show in his basement, the summer before my senior year. I have to admit that I had some pretty mixed feelings about Submission Hold left over from way back when. The band’s live show is really awesome and the music was exciting and powerful, but I bought one of its records at the show and was severely disappointed with the way that the band came off when recorded. It seemed that every bit of energy had been sacrificed in order to make the lyrical content more clear. Now don’t get me wrong, Submission Hold is a very political band, and I happen to enjoy my politics and rock in the same package most of the time if the music is good, but I don’t really care for the singer’s vocals. Every time I have ever heard a Submission Hold recorded, the singer sounds just like the girl from that Lookout Records pop-punk band Tilt. I realize that this may not matter to some of you, or in fact it may be a positive thing, but live I don’t think she sounds like this and I was pretty shocked that the record sounded so different.

Fast forward a couple of years and I am still struck with the same problem. The music is really tight and powerful, combining some interesting aspects of punk-rock, post-hardcore, and some straight-up math-rock to really entice the listener in for some political discourse. Much like myself, Submission Hold leans toward the left end of the political spectrum. What Holds Back the Elephant contains nine songs covering topics such as feminine empowerment, animal cruelty, religion, McCarthyism, and war among others (at least this is what I have inferred from the lyrics, if I’m wrong please correct me). It also seems that in many of the songs the political content is approached from a much more personal perspective, sort of a modus operandi for many bands these days. The lyrics are even translated in French and Spanish, which I think is pretty cool and more bands should do it.

The one thing I still can’t get past is that girl’s voice; it just doesn’t fit right somehow. This is really a small thing in the context of music, and as I stated previously it may even make you like the band even more.

The 101 – Green Street

Perhaps the most criminally underrated late-90s band was Christie Front Drive. Lumped in with the Midwestern emo scene and bands such as Mineral and Boys Life, Christie Front Drive had a more textured feel, with amazing guitar work mixed in so that Eric Richter’s vocals seemed a part of the mix, not the discerning element. After CFD’s short-lived run, Richter went on to Antarctica, which released two albums of atmospheric electronic music, before fronting The 101, which brings the whole story full circle.

To those who adored CFD, as I did, Green Street is brilliant. Mixing modern power-pop with hints of CFD’s textured emo, The 101’s style requires repeated listens to embrace Richter’s vocal subtleties and the spartan production that gives the album something of a live feel. The songs rock, but they’re not too intense, not dependant on cheap hooks, and not tiringly derivative.

The album starts off with a catchy guitar riff, and then a slick bass line comes in, before Richter’s comforting voice comes in over top, and “Never In” sets the stage for 10 tracks of strong emo-like power-pop. Things are a bit lighter in tone (hence the “pop” portion of the previous sentence) than you might expect from emo’s unheralded landmark, but that results in a sound that’s accessible and a tad catchy while no less powerful. Take “Wolf” and “Regret,” for example, both with light rhythms that hints at older REM. The former has a layered shoegazey feel, though, and the latter leisurely winds down for five minutes of rock and perfectly intricate guitar effects.

Recorded by Steve Revitte (Liars, Beastie Boys), there’s a slick textured feel to Richter’s guitar that’s straight out of CFD’s best work, and a tempered echo feel is given to his vocals that help them float into the instrumentation instead of standing out. And that’s where they’re best; if they’re a bit hard to decipher, repeated listens bring out the lyrics. “Well I’m supposed to leave, we’ll play it on the inside / We’re on the way ’cause I’m supposed to leave, we’ll play it on the inside / we’re on the way, you have to want to get out for the ones that want to stay alone / I swear Beth’s gone alone,” for example, from the subtly melodic “Beth,” an emo-leaning track that’s a tad softer in tone.

The band changes things up with “Wife,” mixing some acoustic guitars and synths to give the song a unique and head-bobbing bounce. On “Verve,” the guitars have a deliciously mid-90s jangle that hints at Sugar as well as CFD, while guitar effects mid-way through bring to mind My Bloody Valentine or early Stone Roses. “Left On” is a bit softer, rich in bass and percussion, while “Bus Fare” is much more upbeat, almost punky in nature.

At its core, Green Street is a perfect power-pop album. The songs hover around the 3:30 length, and none are too fast or too slow to break the flow of the album as a whole. The three members (bassist Ben Balcomb and drummer Jeremy Jones probably resent the focus on Richter and his former band) contribute well, and the production suits the band’s style. If I mention CFD too often, it can be excused, for fans of that band will love The 101. Still, fans of the more modern emo like The Jealous Sound and Jimmy Eat World might have their new favorite band.

Die Monitr Batss – Girlz of War

Once I liked these Batss. I considered them the retardo-noise-rockin’ children I’d never had. Their Spread Your Legs, Release the Bats 7″ was a good eight minutes or so of resolute musical nonsense. It was invigorating, kind of. But on Die Monitr Batss’ full-length, Girlz of War, the kicks are few and far between. The bristling excitement and distinctive worldview of that single have gone missing, replaced by a dull repetition of rote post-punk jive. What happend, young Batss?

Listening to Girlz of War is one of the prime non-events of the current times. It’s brief, as expected, but lacking in the impatient attention grasp that defined yon band’s earlier work. The first track is the shortest infinity ever, its not-quite two-and-a-half minutes weighing as heavily as a black dwarf. It’s a good-times vacuum, that one. Later songs sit lifelessly like fourth-rate, mentally still-born Shellac clones. “X.X.E.T.S.” is a deadening drag, two tuneless chords shuffling back and forth between some ineffectual rhythmic hammering. After a minute or so, even the band gets bored and just jams it free-style, like the musicians couldn’t think of a better ending. It’s actually much better than the first part, but it’s still fairly predictable. The proceedings carry on much like this for the rest of the way, the boring, uninspired stabs at disjointed non-rock piling up like discarded chicken bones at a wing-eating contest. I need to come up with better metaphors, much like Die Monitr Batss need to come up with better songs.

So Girlz of War is too straight-forward to be considered quality noise junk but too indifferent to any semblance of actual songwriting to be considered quality rock. The off-kilter pastiche of Captain Beefheart and Half Japanese evidenced on the Spread Your Legs 7″ makes nary an appearance. Instead, Girlz of War is a boring, heavily disappointing waste of an album, from a band that once seemed to know better.

The Wading Girl – Based on a true Story

I remember seeing countless bands while in college that were great to drink to and just as easy to block out when you found a cute girl to strike up a conversation with. These bands had a group of nice guys and girls you would see around campus, they were in your English 101 class, and often you would politely pretend to listen and look interested during thier impromtu solo sessions at a house party. The Wading Girl sounds just like these bands. While I am sure the band might sound good live and quite possibly could be entertaining, their latest album Based on a True Story is a bore. Even copious amounts of beer wouldn’t make this album sound better. Trust me, I tried.

Surely, the members of the Wading Girl are most likely talented musicians, but I do not hear it on this album. The band seems to lack a certain je ne sais quoi that indie bands have that impels you to listen more than once. I do not hear the band trying to draw on a particular sound that would stand out against other bands. At moments, I hear some folk-pop, other times I hear something that sounds a bit like bouncier indie pop. The sound quality is quite poor. Most of the songs come out quite echoey, as if you were listening to the band underwater.

While, I have been quite negative so far, I feel the Wading Girl has an upside. Some of the songs, particularly “Lovely Day,” “Not About You,” and “There Was a Day,” show promise lyrically and energetically.

In conclusion, I feel the Wading Girl needs to go back to the drawing board to build upon promising lyrics and energy to find a sound that the band can live with and produce an album that doesn’t sound like a transistor radio.

Rah Bras – EPs

Given the fact that my exposure to Bollywood soundtracks and obscure Japanese music has been limited to the opening scene of Ghost World, a friend of mine who DJs that stuff, and the convenience store cashier I buy Lone Star beers from that sometimes watches Indian movies behind the counter, reviewing The Rah Bras compilation EPs is a bit of a challenge. The music on the disc is a bizarre (and sometimes thrilling) combination of Paul’s Boutique-style eclecticism, Bollywood (at least that’s what the clever press letter tells me) and other exotic flourishes, and elements of classic soul and new-wave that you would normally expect to come from the same land that brought you Dance Dance Revolution and action figures designed like tofu. Even the Rah Bras CD jacket looks Japanese. The sleeve includes the loud contrasting colors of Japanamation, an ad for a sushi bar, and even some gibberish written in the Japanese alphabet.

But these folks aren’t from Japan. They’re from Virginia… and that’s part of the problem with EPs. Unless you’re Beck or the Beastie Boys, weird, random kaleidoscope musical sources works much better when they are coming from a detached Japanese point of view and not from a trio of Americans who seem easily impressed with themselves.

That’s not to say EPs is a bad listen, however. The Boredoms’ style noise freakout “Bus Stop” and the live version “Tokyo Bus Stop” (a medley of “Bus Stop” and the Isley Brothers’ “Conventions”) are as exhilrating as a kamikaze mission. The 30-second Catholic church organ stampede “Oui Oui Oui” (Francophilia is a close cousin to Nipponphilia) is also pretty cool, as is the repeated refrain of “Allen, Allen, and Allen” on “The Fifth Allen,” which is so deliriously annoying that it’s charming. In addition, the vocals and maniacal keyboards on “FYC” make for a nicely bombastic introduction to the disc and the Rah Bras universe.

The best way to approach EPs is as a cultural exchange. The Rah Bras borrow from Cibo Matto (and others), borrowing from The Beastie Boys in much the same way as The Seeds borrowed from The Rolling Stones borrowing from Chuck Berry. Just don’t expect the American via Japan via America version of “Can’t Seem to Make You Mine” on the album.

Various Artists – Narnack Records Is…A Fist-First Sampler of New Music

New York City’s Narnack Records, having inked The Fall to record last year’s excellent The Real New Fall LP, now has found itself with the slightly strange task of overseeing the autumnal careers of one of indie rock’s most prolific and, well, elderly bands. On Narnack’s new compilation CD Narnack Records is…A Fist-First Sampler of New Music, a few of The Fall’s immediate sonic heirs – Coachwhips, The Intelligence, and OCS – are set against the Jap-rock masters Guitar Wolf, the tweaked-out roots rock of Langhorne Slim, and the electronic freak-out sessions of Aa, Fast Fourier, and Yellow Swans. Diversity seems to be the name of the game at Narnack, as is that certain wry insouciance that made The Fall’s music hit home in the 80s with proto-hipsters too disaffected to listen to Devo.

Of this irreverent ilk is The Bunnybrains “Drugs No Way,” a 44-second PSA that succeeds in the same way Schoolhouse Rock did – it makes drugs and irony seem to be the only weapon against unabashed cheeriness. Similarly cheeky is Lil Pocketknife’s “Do a Dance” – though it’s a ultra-syncopated rewrite of Blondie’s “Rapture,” it’s filled with a catchier-than-a-Gap-ad infectiousness.

Proving themselves to be rivals of the lauded likes of Sub Pop, Matador, et al., Narnack’s compilation is both broad-minded and ground-breaking. You couldn’t really hear a more raw, searing hardcore band blaring about love sung in Japanese than Guitar Wolf present on “Loverock.” Langhorne Slim’s two offerings, “I Wanna Take You Home” and “By the Time the Suns Gone Down,” both delicately constructed and restrained country-tinged odes, serve as bookends for what is largely an compilation of post-punk at its most slanted and disenchanted. Fast Fourier, set to release an album this spring, offers two of the stronger cuts on the compilation, both of which are beguiling and gritty mixtures of electronics and urgent fuzzed-out guitars a la The Black Keys.

The Fall, still on top of their game, offer what are perhaps the other two highlights of the compilation. “Sparta #2,” rife with Mark E. Smith’s characteristic droll vocal talents, is especially memorable and evocative of The Fall’s well-established sound. The combination of classic peeks at of The Fall coupled with the bands that are direct or indirect descendents of their sound helps this compilation succeed on more than just a then-and-now level. Above all, this compilation is proof of Narnack’s viability as a standard-bearer for the now wildly diverse world of post-punk.

DMBQ – The Essential Sounds from the Far East

There was a time during the late 80s when Americans feared that the Japanese were taking over. Normally stalwart, plaid-shirted men of Republican mores quivered in fear as the long shadow of Japanese expansionism spread across the US. If you’re too young to remember or don’t believe me, watch that old Michael Keaton vehicle, Gung Ho, and then get back to me.

So, what happened? Well, now apparently the Japanese are just being more subtle about excelling in all our trades. Take DMBQ, for example. These Tokyo psychedelic riff-rockers have taken a pinch of Led Zepplin, a dash of Mudhoney, and then added their own blend of manic, unpredictable sound to come up with The Essential Sounds from the Far East. It’s loud, non-stop rock ‘n roll and it hates your ears.

Estrus is known for releasing records that bleed dirty rawk, but this by far is the dirtiest, the most rawkish, and the most proficient. Fireballs of Freedom and Federation X put Bellingham, Wash. on the map. But DMBQ (or Dynamite Masters Blues Quartet) have their feet in the present while keeping an eye on the past. Providing the missing link between Japanese noise-smiths (Melt Banana, Guitar Wolf, Boredoms) and American rock revivalists, DMBQ was formed around 1988 but didn’t make a name for itself until the mid-90s. Guitar guy/singer Shinji Masuko also plays with Damo Suziki (ex-Can), and insane drummer China also murders the skins for Shonen Knife. The band’s roots run deep.

“She Walks” and “Taste” open the record with enough noise and fist-pumping garage riffage to burn tattoos into your grandma’s liver-spotted ass. China channels the spirit of Bonzo, pummeling the drums with a raging fury so intense, if she were to die while drumming, she may come back like in The Grudge and murder Sarah Michelle Geller. That wouldn’t be so bad.

If you like acid or are on acid or know what acid is, check out “Dm.” Masuko unravels an intricate stoner parable that’s thatched with glitched vocals and blue-ballsy guitars – so sexual, it hurts to touch it. Guitars go for a naughty little skip in “Swamp King,” with Masuko grunting and growling underneath a fuzzy mess like a man possessed of wolves and dead Shoguns. Medieval shit, no doubt. It’s appropriate the last song, “Are You Satisfied?”, is 4 minutes and 20 seconds long, because I got stoned, listened to it, and shit myself with satisfaction.

This album eats you alive and then vomits you up, and you’re better for it. You’ll thank DMBQ for vomiting you up. Because there’s nothing more rock ‘n roll than vomit. Ask Bon Scott.

Blake Brown – Harboring Secrets

The opening moments of Blake Brown’s sophomore release, the shouted “Just one war” that marks the first sounds on Harboring Secrets, is one of the most raw and emotional moments I’ve heard put to record. It shows a stark contrast to this enigmatic singer/songwriter, the dichotomy between stark and delicate and raw and impassioned. It’s a line Brown treads on Harboring Secrets in a way that few other musicians or even full bands could tread, and those opening moments perfectly set the stage for an album of almost unparalleled passion.

Emotion has always been a part of this Colorado singer/songwriter’s music. On the beautiful Flicker and Fade, his first solo full-length, Brown’s high-pitched and delicate voice drifts around acoustic guitar and soft melodies to spin emotional and personal lyrics with beautiful music. On Harboring Secrets, he takes his music to another level, approaching the album with a full-band feel, entwining moments of power and raw intensity with his soft and melodic beauty.

There are traces of pure emotional passion on Harboring Secrets that call to mind the origins of emo, with its raw and personal lyrics, its powerful yet melodic guitars, its strong rhythms. Then there are lovingly crafted melodies and stark vocals akin to singer/songwriters like Elliott Smith and Conor Oberst. These styles are worked together so that even the most powerful moments, such as on the opening “War” are tempered by beauty within the same song.

When Brown repeats “Give up the fight” on the title track over strong acoustic guitar, his voice cracks just slightly, and his emotions are starkly evident. It’s a more powerful moment that can be contrasted by the bare-bones beauty of “Let the Sun Burn,” with lyrics like “Rest your bones now with the weight of regret.” This track is quiet and lovely, but also dark and striking with some gorgeous haunting cello and moments of sheer raw power as Brown’s voice sings softly, “Only remember me by the love that I bring, nothing else,” over screamed lyrics stark in the background. It’s a defining moment on this album.

The quiet acoustic-based approach provides a stark feel to “Shades of Everything,” whose harmonica provides a haunting accompaniment. Cello again provides the mood to the rich and echoey “I Won’t Make a Sound,” with its glorious acoustic guitar chiming in the background. On “Paperwings,” a gorgeous full band sound, with Afghan Whigs-esque guitar and a swaying vocal style, shows Blake’s talent beyond a simple Elliott Smith approach, and the lyrics provide a stark look at disappointment and brittle hope. The album’s closing moments, on an untitled but listed track, bring to mind those that opened the album, with powerful and driving guitar mixed with cello, sung and almost shouted vocals, and moments of quiet melodic beauty mixing with impassioned intensity. And for all the album’s intense beginning, its quiet and soothing finish is the perfect bookend.

Blake Brown isn’t plagued with what leads many to scoff at the emo or singer/songwriter genre: his music isn’t whiny or lo-fi or too obvious and pleading. It’s rich with poetic yet personal lyrics, his voice finding a contrast between emotional and beautiful, his melodies strong and soaring. Despite not yet finding a label home, Brown’s music deserves to be heard, to find an audience that will surely be struck by its emotional weight. Harboring Secrets is a moment of genius in a young singer/songwriter’s career, one that will define the artist and hopefully find the recognition he sorely deserves.

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