Stars – Set Yourself on Fire

From the opening strings of “Your Ex-Lover is Dead,” it’s clear that the listener is in for a treat with this third full-length from Stars, a group of transplanted New Yorkers now based out of the indie-rock hotbed of Montreal. The band, which includes members of super-hyped labelmates Broken Social Scene, is incredibly adept at crafting pretty pop songs with tons of neat instrumentation, and yet there’s a darker edge to keep us on our toes.

The talented artists in Stars thrive on their tightly constructed pop songs, which cover quite a bit of stylistic ground while consistently employing propulsive bass lines, pulsating drumming, and tons of keyboard and string flourishes. The co-ed harmonies of vocalists Torquil Campbell and Amy Millan are the most immediately impressive element of the group’s sound, blending together flawlessly to create a twee-influenced beauty.

The aforementioned opener is perhaps the strongest song on the album, with its string intro gently segueing into a polite guitar-based verse before exploding into a tumult of synthesized sounds for its chorus. The lyrics detail an encounter with an ex well after the fact, concluding with Campbell and Millan harmonizing “I’m not sorry I met you, I’m not sorry it’s over, I’m not sorry there’s nothing to save.” It’s not earth-shattering stuff, but in the context of Stars’ wistful, melancholy pop it’s plenty effective. The title track starts out with an electronic intro that recalls the Postal Service.

Millan takes the lead on “Ageless Beauty,” which rides its propulsive guitar throughout and calls to mind the more structured Broken Social Scene songs, though even more nuanced and truthful. Campbell’s “The First Five Times” is a retelling of the five encounters and the development of the early stages of a relationship. The song backs off to just the lively drumbeat as he intones, “I know, I know, I know, I feel the same as you.”

As the record progresses, the band begins to reveal an acute political consciousness that might explain why the band members left their NYC homes for Canada – “He Lied About Death” starts off with “what gives you the right to fuck with our lives,” directed at our president, while “Celebration Guns” asks “how will you know your enemy, by their color or your fear.” Indeed, “Soft Revolution” seems to be a sort of shorthand for this band’s aesthetic – most of the lyrical attention is focused on relationships, but there is an awareness of the larger world around them behind it all. This is a gorgeous pop album that deals maturely with a wide range of emotions and ideas.

All Combinations – Ghosts

Post-rock is a stupid genre name. For example, I’ve no idea why Slint garnered such a emasculated tag. As evidenced by Coachella reviews as well as the legendary Spiderland LP, the band does indeed RAWK. However, those musicians are apparently the “godfathers” to what has become a catch-all bin for any release containing lost instrumental passages consisting of hypnotic rhythms and guitar noodlings. Not that this is what post-rock is limited too, because for some odd reason the unholy noise that Mogwai is capable of producing gets lumped into this category as well. Regardless, All Combinations fits easily into the former of the stylings. On the band’s latest release, Ghosts, the six piece band produces long, artsy passages of dreamy instrumentals occasioned by so-so lyrical passages.

“Mapped and Coursed” opens the album up with some tentative plucking before diving into what sounds like the long lost track from Tristeza’s debut LP. Dreamy afternoon music, it’s all warm bass tones and subtle treble. “Passing Ghosts” follows up with a more intense feel, mostly carried by the jazzy drum flourishes that explode in the first few seconds of the track (it segues rather smoothly from “Mapped and Course”). Jazzy bass-lines and the sloppy start/stop shuffle further nail down the Tristeza sound, until someone starts to sing.

In some other review, I made some smarmy comment about how horrible it would be should anyone decide to throw some Live Journal-esque musings on top of Tortoise instrumentals. Horrible fantasy becomes reality, because All Combinations is doing just that. More spoken that sung (think the Shipping News with daytime television guitar), male and female vocals trade off in a short lyrical passage before plodding back into the instrumental portion. The lyrics are nice enough, but they don’t seem to add much to the mood of the song. The track is probably strong enough to stand on its own without the lyrical passage. Piano and a quickened pace lend a more urgent mood to carry the piece out, and the lyrics are all but forgotten because the music does well to carry one into the next track.

There is a downside to the record. Much like the Tristeza albums, all the songs here have a tendency to blend together. On “Forward Momentum,” there’s a point where some dissonance and something very close to distortion is thrown into the mix, but until that point it’s all subdued chords and jazzy drumming over a blubbedy-blub bass line. Here the vocals get phoned in from the next room, as the manic guitars threaten to let loose with something resembling a real emotion. It’s just a tease, though, since the track ends before slipping over the edge. “Ghost Town” returns All Combinations to its dreamy meditative state.

Ghosts is a nice enough album, and it’s quite enjoyable at times. Despite some harsh words I probably included, I’ve listened to it quite a bit. However, All Combinations seems perfectly comfortable in the post-rock niche previously carved out by bands like Do Make Say Think or t=The Album Leaf. There is nothing here you haven’t heard before, but All Combinations plays the sound extremely well. The band can lock into a groove and make you forget all about the unneeded lyrics. This is great stuff for passing away an afternoon or melting into the couch after a long tiresome evening. Just don’t expect a bedside revolution coming from your stereo.

Note: This album is available for free download from the band’s website. Fans of gorgeous instrumentsals are foolish if they don’t go check this out. Furthermore, if you e-mail them quickly you might get a free physical copy. The packaging is crazy good.

Piano Magic – Disaffected

There’s something about that enchanted, gun-metal grey isle of Britain that breeds moody blokes. One need only invoke the names of famously irritable frontmen like Roger Waters, Johnny Rotten, Ian Curtis, or Morrissey, and the lyrics on Piano Magic’s new album Disaffected seem to make a certain type of sense. Suddenly notions like “A shadow falls on the abattoir gates / as you leave with a stench on your hand” from Piano Magic’s gloomily-magnificent new album don’t seem that hard to imagine. Close your eyes and imagine you’re unemployed, low on Quid, and your mum just doesn’t understand. Welcome to Europe!

Euro-gloom hits it’s zenith on Disaffected, which has the rare distinction of being simultaneously affected and disaffected, both hyper-literate and monumentally alienated, and this is no small task. Piano Magic seems equally comfortable with the wordy, near-pretension strum-a-thon of “I Must Leave London,” on which Glen Johnson laments that his city “is bad for my soul, it’s burning a hole that will erode me” or the jaunty techno-pop which fleshes out the bitter and lovesick subject of “Deleted Scenes.”

While a certain low-seratonin vibe drags this album into the “Play Only on a Rainy Day Category,” Piano Magic ultimately proves to be too talented to be relegated to bottom of your CD tower. Using the word haunting to describe “A Theory of Ghosts” and “Your Ghost” is perhaps a bit heavy-handed, but Piano Magic makes no bones about the tendency towards funereal. Ultimately, the title track, a cry against modern alienation set against sugary electro-pop hooks, sums up the album’s provocative thematic core. “Anything can happen in life” guest frontwoman Angele David Guillou sings, “especially nothing / mainly nothing / once you know that you’re fine.”

Wow, Owls! – Pick Your Patterns

This review of Wow,Owls! debut CD Pick Your Patterns could read like the final installment in a history lesson of Virginia/DC hardcore from the mid-90s through the present. In the past weeks I’ve reviewed records from similar sounding but now defunct bands Stop It!! and Helen of Troy. All of these bands borrow heavily from the groundwork laid by east coast hardcore bands such as Shotmaker, Sleepytime Trio, and to a certain extent even Fugazi or Rites of Spring. Wow, Owls! takes all of this history and wraps it up into a tight little bundle with only a few minor flaws.

Pick Your Patterns has the DC guitar sound down to an art. Chunky distortion that sounds like speakers peeling open accentuates the stop/start rhythms and extremely pissed-off screaming that most of the aforementioned bands have employed to great effect. Wow, Owls! changes things up by adding in some yelled vocal trade-offs as well, bringing the Fugazi influence to the forefront of its sound. The record starts off well enough with some tight guitar work and stellar drumming backed by rumbling bass. Some screams are thrown into the mix and viola…instant success!

My first problem with Pick Your Patterns comes about half way through the first track, when most of the instruments drop out and the singer is yelling fairly intelligibly. The lyrics in this part seem to have been ripped almost word for word from a To Dream of Autumn song from the split 7″ with Racebannon. Even if this is a nod to that To Dream of Autumn song, it still sounds somehow cheesy the way it is employed here. I’m not trying to punish you guys in Wow, Owls! if you are out there listening to this, in fact the record is pretty flawless despite my complaining. There is another part that comes at the end of one of the songs in the middle of the record where the song ends with gang vocals repeating the same line over and over again after all of the music has dropped out. These kinds of tactics have been used by many hardcore bands and it just sounds bad for the most part.

Alright…enough of my stupid opinions. If you dig the DC sound and are into City of Caterpillar, Shotmaker, Sleepytime Trio, or even Majority Rule then you will love the debut full-length from Wow, Owls! It is chock full of enough powerful music to keep you busy for a while. Hopefully by the time the next record comes out I will have absolutely nothing to complain about. In the meantime, I will be continually listening to all of the other songs on this record and basking in the glory that is Wow, Owls! A spectacular first try from this up-and-coming band. By the way, kudos for having not only an excellent band name but also great cover art.

Heavy Trash – S/T

One thing you can always count on Jon Spencer for is irreverent, funny lyrics. Unlike many other roots-rockers, Spencer has always attacked any retro style with a tongue-in-cheek approach that sets him apart from the pack. Heavy Trash, the band, is the first time Spencer (of Blues Explosion fame) and Matt Verta-Ray (Speedball Baby, Madder Rose) have teamed up on their own outside the constrains of other projects. Verta-Ray fits perfectly into this duo, and their self-titled album is a fine collection of rockabilly infused with twangy country, Americana, and a bit of blues.

The album starts off with the bouncy “Dark Hair’d Rider,” one of the more straightforward rockabilly tunes, before moving to “Lover Street” with Spencer emulating early-Elvis like nobody’s business. “The Loveless” kicks the album into gear and really gets things moving. The lyrics here like, “I got my name on the back of my shirt,” are one of many instances where Spencer takes little jabs at rockabilly and the hipsters who love this type of music.

“Walking Bum” and “Under the Waves” are both fine bits of country-noir, while “Fix These Blues” lands somewhere between an R&B ballad and the blues. “Mr. K.I.A.” is probably the most modern sounding of this retro collection of songs, but it still has all the strut and swagger you’d expect. For all the dabbling in different styles, rockabilly is still king for Heavy Trash. Spencer and Verta-Ray are at their best when letting the rockabilly rhythm carry them, as on “Justine Alright” and “This Day is Mine.” The only dud on the album is “Gatorade,” one of the worst odes to cunnilingus ever to disgrace an otherwise top-notch album.

Although the band uses plenty of guest musicians supplying a variety of instruments, Heavy Trash is still a Spencer and Verta-Ray creation from start to finish. Between the two guys, they not only played bass, electric guitar, drums, organ, acoustic guitar, baritone guitar, and synths, but they also did all the recording and engineering in Matt’s New York studio. Although the duo apparently took over a year to put this release together, their laid-back approach has resulted in a fun album. Like the Blues Explosion, you will either love this or hate it. I fully expect that rockabilly purists will find the Heavy Trash to be absolute garbage, but those who like their retro music chock full of sex and alcohol with plenty of sneering will find a great new party album.

Plankton – Insomnia EP

You know something’s amiss when the majority of songs on an album called Insomnia make you want to go to sleep.

It’s not that I need constant stimulation or anything — ok, maybe I do — but if Plankton could just throw me a few hooks, a couple of lyrics, something to latch onto, then I’d probably be a much bigger fan. As it stands now, Insomnia is little more than a collection of swirly electronica, sometimes ambient and occasionally beat-driven, though rarely memorable.

Part of the problem is that half the disc contains remixes of the same bloody tune (you guessed it: “Insomnia”), which makes things slightly, you know, predictable. Maybe it’s a treat for hardcore fans, but for newcomers like myself, it’s tough. Of the remaining material, “High Life and Deep Shade” is definitely a highlight, since it’s both hypnotic and trance-y without getting too repetitive, but the vocal exhale sample on “Thousand Yard Stare Part 1″ truly blows (pun intended). Producers, beware: if it didn’t work on “Lose My Breath” by Destiny’s Child, it ain’t never gonna work. Stop trying to turn breathing into a rhythm.

Still, at least Plankton is attempting something new. You don’t come across many experimental electronica acts these days, especially ones hailing from Australia (where the band’s from). And the music is fairly well-produced, at least on a technological level. I just wish it could keep me awake.

Et Sans – Par Noussss Touss les Trous de vos Cranes!

Only recently has Canada become officially cool, and the country owes this cred to one city: Montreal. This ville has produced the Stills, the Arcade Fire, the Dears, among others, and with Et Sans’ sophomore release, Par Noussss Touss les Trous de vos Cranes!, we’re reminded why the French-Canadian city is putting its mother country on the musical map.

Unlike their aforementioned compatriots, there is nothing pop about Et Sans’ avant-garde electronic soundscapes. In fact, there is hardly anything even remotely comfortable about Par Noussss, the band’s volatile and melodramatic industrial four-track pulsing. The atypical and atonal instrumentation (layers upon layers of drum machines, synths, hums, whispered mutterings, and feedback) isn’t executed with over-the-top theatrics, and the chaotic-yet-skeletal release seems somehow sincere. The experimental quintet’s uncanny ability to generate a melody at the moment when it seems posed to descend into absolute cacophony reminds us that there’s something beautiful uncomfortably hidden beneath disturbing undercurrents. And this is what makes listening to Et Sans’ sophomore release worth it.

The musicians in Et Sans are masters of producing extraneous and saturated noises that verge on dissonance without succumbing to it. The eerie transcendental psych-drone track “Lachosenuenuenue du L’amon Cel Cement” starts off the album with a dripping futuristic dirge. It, like “Mademoiselle Ogive, Untremblement Osseuc dans Le Derriere,” is insistently wrapped in its own tenor, throbbing against its own impenetrable wall of seemingly aimless noise.

The second track on the album, “Unesbouche Vegetale, des Creatures Soufflent des Secretions du Tout Foutlecamp,” is slightly more sonically accessible than the first. While the middle section, with its swampy rumbling over squealing synths and hushed mutterings, erupts into texturally varied, mad-scientist freakouts. The track is anchored on either end by chillingly pulsating undercurrents that remind us that there is indeed a narrative informing the song. With its low, electronic heartbeat that gains momentum as the song initially progresses and ultimately flatlines at around the 17 minute, 30 seconds mark, the track reads like any story with a plot (well, at least those read by the literati). And the last track, “Les Courbes Sanlantes Entendues de L’Organe Trop Variment Hallucine,” most overtly resembles something recognizable with – gasp! – a catchy repeated melody.

That Et Sans can produce an album of faint and beautiful melodies under volatile and abrasive textures of contorted electronic drones makes the album worth repeated spins. The band taps into an unbearable tension that makes the music the sort that’s rarely easy to listen to but that always elicits a reaction. And isn’t that what sets almost all other types of music apart from pop: it requires thinking? We’re asked to rethink the boundaries of music whilst indulging in the experimental quintet’s full-length release of sonic slop sputtered out to the nth degree. We’re asked to react, as well: Par Noussss is obscure enough to linger in its own obscurity, but don’t let it.

Various Artists – 4 Women No Cry

The closest thing I ever got to a deep appreciation for female vocalist was the obligatory Cocteau Twins fetish towards the tail-end of my high school career and those crucial mind-altering early college experiences when musical habits get rearranged or annihilated completely. Couple this my then roommate’s love affair with This Mortail Coil’s It’ll End in Tears, and I developed a strong like for ethereal mostly psychedelic female offerings where language took a back seat to the emotion presented by the music and vocal sound. Years later, when I would tread water at a record store, I swore off female vocalists when angry female pop stars aping Joni Mitchell and Marianne Faithful invaded with the alt-rock landscape (and a big fat Lillith Fair to you too, buddy). Call it more maturity or having to make those “real world sacrifices” in the name of a serious relationship, or maybe just finding worse things to direct spit and vinegar; I’ve come to terms with the female vocal.

Granted, there was always the appreciation for deadly female fronted acts like Curve or Sonic Youth. However, I’ve also managed to develop crushes on the likes of Baxter or Frost. Their style of female electronica make for excellent evenings spent with candles and merlot. So, then 4 Women No Cry shows up in my mailbox. Immediately, horrible flashbacks to Joan Osborne’s “What if God Was One of Us” or anything ever yodeled by Jewel (and I won’t go into her book of “poetry”). Worse, I envisioned reggae-dub reinterpretations of Bob Marley classics, the sort of thing even the most mainstream coffee houses wouldn’t bother to play. I could not have been more wrong.

4 Women No Cry is a compilation of sorts offered by Monika, a label everyone should be watching. This is the first of a series of releases, each featuring promising female artists. This 20-track sampler features four different artists, all a wide variety of styles. Since the record is broken up fairly straight forward (think of four EPs back to back on one album), I’m going to make this easy and discuss each artist in brief.

Rosario Bléfari brings an Argentinean flavor to minimalist electronica with “Partir y Renuciation” (roughly “separation and renunciation” if my two years of Spanish serves me correctly). Obviously, if you’re not a native speaker, the meaning to the lyrics will be lost to you. However, one of the best moments of Desperado was the opening credits where Banderas’ mariachi character performs a song in a dream sequence. The subdued IDM beats and sparse guitar work (Spanish flavor of course) create a rather sultry mood. It’s a subdued opening and would fit into to any mix tape meant to entice that quiet but horribly attractive girl that sits two rows down from you in Art History. “Nunca” AND “Melodia” follow suit, while Rosario’s last offering, “Videria Chilena,” is an extended instrumental that would not be out of place on some of Higher Intelligence Agency’s more experimental ambient work. This track has a nice balance of field recordings and digital beats, making for a smooth exit from Rosario’s rather modern Argentina. Next stop, Mother Russia (comrad)!

Tusia Beridze is a Georgian native (not the “south shall rise again” Georgia either), and immediately “Cuet” conjures images of a drinking vodka alone in a weather-beaten bar somewhere in Siberia as the snow gently falls and one lone crooner plays a sad song for no one except the bottles and ice. “Wound” is more experimental, starting with almost understandable muttering amidst moody synths. When Tusia’s voice comes in, no one is immune. The whole world could follow her tune into the flames with a smile.

Èglantine Gouzy takes us into the streets of Paris for some French new-wave. “Eglantine Longe” is ominous French trip-hop with minimal beats, while “Nurse Song” sounds like something Björk might have done had she not decided that traditional things like keyboards, samplers, and drums were too cumbersome. “Boa” carries a distinct glitch-pop feel, and the male/female vocals are reminiscent of the Books’ latest offering. This is great for impressing that anarchist French girl who smokes foreign cigarettes outside the English building on campus.

Finally, Caterine Pratter closes out with the only straight-up English songs. Granted her first track is titled “Johnny Isoläschin,” but it’s instrumental and sounds like a Four Tet segue completely with distorted vocals samples and bizarre keyboard manipulations. “Dreamin’ of Love” begins with a pounding bass line before her icy vocals enter, and it’s clear that she is not going to fuck around. This is the voice of a woman that will entice your soul before ripping it out and using it as a door mat. “Stronger Than Before” closes out the set with a moody goth offering that will make you angry Portishead took forever to record another album.

As an album, 4 Women No Cry can be a frustrating listen. Just when each artists nuances and quirks become welcome, the album shifts to someone different. If anything, this album will inspire a strong desire to seek out at least one or two of the artists previewed here. All the tracks are worth hearing, but it’s never fun downloading a demo when you know the full release would be so infinitely cooler.

The Lucksmiths – San Francisco EP

Perhaps Belle & Sebastian have become the poster children for indie pop, but in my book, there isn’t a band that does it better than Australia’s Lucksmiths. Light and airy, jangly, playful one moment and serious the next, the Lucksmiths may have never written a bad song. And for those who can’t get enough of summery pop, the band is prolific enough to keep these types of teaser EPs in between always sparkling full-length albums.

The first track, “The Chapter in Your Life Entitled San Francisco,” is from the band’s new full-length, Warmer Corners, and it’s a wonderful pop song. Gloriously light with a sweet mid-tempo pace, the combination of light guitar, tambourine, organ, and even hints of strings make the song vintage Lucksmiths. And for a band from another continent, lyrics such as, “Are you warm enough? I remember how the fog comes off the water / And the days are ever shorter / And I worry you are cold,” nicely sum up living in San Francisco.

The other three tracks are exclusive to this EP. “Young and Dumb” is sweet and more serious, a head-bobbing track with a wonderful chorus you’ll be singing along after just one listen. By contrast, “The Winter Proper” is a proper winter song, slower and more melancholy, with gorgeous vocals, acoustic guitar, and piano. And the closer, a delightful cover of the Bee Gees’ “I Started a Joke,” features subtle banjo and harmonica accompaniments, giving the song a delightful warm and comforting feel.

Tali White has the perfect voice: rich, confident, and able whether singing playfully or full of melancholy. And the band backs up those vocals with the perfect mix of light and airy, always summery pop. It’s beautiful and fun, and this release shows that the band has not changed its sound but always gets better. This is the indie-pop band all others should be compared to.

Drowsy – Growing Green

Growing Green is the debut effort of 22-year-old Finnish singer/songwriter Mauri Heikkinen, who is the sole force behind Drowsy. The album is a collection of 14 mostly acoustic, ambient, bedroom folk tunes recorded at home. While a couple of tracks employ additional instrumentation and an occasional electric guitar, most are stripped down and bare with primarily acoustic guitar strumming, piano, and Heikkinen’s unique, wispy drawl.

It is Heikkinen’s voice that gives these tunes their identity. He predominantly sings in a hushed, accented whisper doused in reverb, and the result is comparable to the likes of Robert Wyatt. But unlike Wyatt, who sounds even more intense when singing in the high registers, Heikkinen detracts from the music as he struggles to reach the high notes and sounds too strained and off-key when he does. Additionally, he tends to slur his words a lot and can sound like a drunken sailor or a subdued, not-so-gruff Shane McGowan.

Musically, the songs all follow the same folky formula of Heikkinen singing to slowed-down, lo-fi, piano-based tunes with acoustic guitar strumming that grows old after a while. While they are not necessarily bad, they are just not varied enough to keep things interesting. The tunes that break from this mold are “Bright Dawn,” which has an upbeat tempo and utilizes a fuzzed-out electric guitar lead and a Dylan-esque chorus; “No Footprints to Trail,” which could pass for a Coldplay B-side; and the instrumental track “Great Scintillates,” whichincludes bells or xylophone on top of more inventive guitar picking. The album as a whole has an unpolished feel to it since it is essentially a home recording with squeaking guitar strings, breathing, and the occasional stray sound finding their way into the mix. Distortion is added in a few places where the input levels were set too high.

The few standout tracks mentioned above expand on the basic lo-fi formula by including some additional instrumentation and tempo changes, but overall they do not excite the ears enough to make repeated listening of the disc worthwhile. This will undoubtedly make the listener drowsy. These songs would profit from refining the vocals, elaborating on some of the nicer piano playing, and recording in a studio with an experienced engineer. Look to the RIYL if you want truly eclectic ambient, acid-folk music with unique vocal stylings.

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