Nihilists – This Warm Elevator

Nihilists are an odd entry for the mixtape series because you can’t download any of their songs, but this one is pretty amazing, so I felt I had to include them, especially since they’re buddies with Socorro and syn*error, who I have also reviewed for this site.

This band sounds a lot like Drive Like Jehu, mixed with Falling Forward and a little Bleed. “This Warm Elevator” starts off with a guitar part that sounds like it was lifted straight out of the Rick Fork handbook, and the drums come in with the vocals, which also sound a bit like Rick Fork. The guitars then play a dueling and inter-weaving part, which could have been played by the early Gravity bands. When the chorus comes in, the vocals become more impassioned. The chorus is a mix of Falling Forward and Tanner, then this awesome midpart comes in, with this great guitar line that sounds extremely Louisville, then it kicks back into the chorus.

Write them and see if you can’t get their demo asap. I know I will.

The Asteroid #4 – An Amazing Dream

Toting reverb-soaked guitars and vocals, sonically the Asteroid #4′s album An Amazing Dream is unfailingly astral. But the songs are inconsistent – equal parts good and bad – the good sporadically nestled between stretches of stodgy space rock.

The Asteroid #4 is best when they focus on song writing, coming up with strong chord transitions that develop into the hook. And their smart, sincere lyrics are usually better than their abstract, poetic ones. It is when they get bogged down in texture and ambiance that things go awry.

The opening track “Take Me Down” is a great start; “Here We Go” is an average, lazy, bluesy surf-rock tune. Track three, “The Shepherd”, is a plodding, effects-laden acoustic song with little listener appeal. “Outside” features a smart acoustic intro that dives in to a driving rhythm and catchy chorus – might remind some listeners of Oasis. “Ask Me about Pittsburgh” is an easy favorite, starring painfully authentic lyrics and melody you’ll wish you could smell in your pillow.

In the latter half of the album, the good songs are harder to find. Even after several listens you won’t recall “To Be in Your Eyes”. “Shoot Out the Stars” is a floating acoustic number with lots of percussion-less, swirling ambiance that ascends to nothing. “Go Ahead” is a lukewarm pop song. “Into the Meadow” is dumb, frankly, not so much for the content as the vocal delivery. But An Amazing Dream finishes strong with “Belong”, a sky-is-falling rock song, the kind you should really hear live.

Fans of dream pop and space rock should enjoy this fourth album by Philadelphia chameleons The Asteroid #4, but indie rock and pop purists won’t remember An Amazing Dream in the morning.

As Tall as Lions – S/T

Occasionally I’ll hear a song and that song will give me goose bumps. Real, honest-to-God goose bumps. It will send shivers down my spine. It’ll make me stop what I’m doing and pay attention to this song right now, dammit!

Every song on As Tall as Lions’ self-titled sophomore album does this to me. Maybe it’s Daniel Nigro’s voice, clear and unbreakable, like bulletproof glass. Maybe it’s the tremendously epic-sounding noise these folks produce; just when you’re certain a song can’t get any bigger, it does, and when you’re absolutely positive that it can’t get any bigger than that, it somehow does again, blowing you away, forcing you to turn up your CD player even more.

I swear, I started playing this album in my car at a reasonable level and by the album’s end I had turned it up to so-loud-it’s-painful levels because I wanted to hear the album more. I wanted to hear everything on this album. I wanted it blaring because I wanted the headache that came with that because that meant I wouldn’t soon forget this album.

I can’t even name the genre into which As Tall as Lions falls. The closest I can get is the Velveteen, but here it’s about five people instead of three, all of whom can play like mad, circle each other, and make impressive enough noise on their own that any band would be happy to snap them up. Production puts all of the instruments at the top of the mix, nearly overwhelming the listener with its wall of thunderous melody.

Everything is focused around Nigro’s unflinchingly emotive voice. It is not merely impressive but heartbreaking, charming, and inspiring bottomless envy all at once. If you’ve been toiling in indie hell with nobodies who can’t carry a tune, prepare to be staggered. If you’ve spent the last eight hours writing music reviews for increasingly boring albums with vocalists who think enunciating every word with practiced neutrality is singing, Nigro’s voice is revelatory.

The Tower Records in Lakewood, California, closed with all the rest of them, but before it did, I noted it stocked this album, and I thought, Wow, I hope someone buys that, and just out of spite, I almost did myself just to support the band, but I figured maybe someone who has heard of this band will pick it up instead, and I don’t want to steal that opportunity.

I can’t say enough good things about this album. This album doesn’t just make me just proud to be a music reviewer so I can tell you how great it is, it makes me proud to be human because we can produce such grand and powerful art.

Castle Project – Diaries of a Broken Heart

Elliott Smith stabbed himself in the chest. What can Diaries of a Broken Heart do for that kind of despair? Such a forthright title is a disservice to the sensitivity it claims to possess, not to mention its author. Where’s the subtlety? If it’s true that Ryan Ostiguy composed Diaries in response to a sinking marriage, I pity the sentiments—surely authentic—forced to fly such an awkward flag. How dreadful is a title that plagiarizes Fall Out Boy?

It’s a regrettable move, like forfeiting a queen to an absentminded trap, that almost manages to undermine the potency of Diaries. But the record stands, however ponderously, as a fine statement and a lovely pop mosaic, concerned only with the emotions it serves and their proper communication. Sentimentality of this palpability is oft-maligned, but it is necessary to stand by it on occasion, and Ryan Ostiguy demonstrates an uncanny ability to work this loophole inside and out—just listen to the strings at the beginning of “What It Takes” and tell me that, no matter how much they remind you of a recycled score, you can’t visualize a dejected Ostiguy stalking the streets, head at his feet, humming the melody to himself. “In Frustration,” on the other hand, is bitterness distilled. That distorted bass, stamping out impatience and annoyance, swatting angrily at the keyboard and bass that buzz around it, might as well sing Ostiguy’s part for him: “Frustration sets in—it’s the look in your eyes/ Don’t you want me—like you used to want me?” On other songs, Ostiguy flosses Pedro the Lion or Grandaddy—it’s a cycle he’s in, apparently.

Accordingly, there are few tracks that are true standouts—and just as few that sink into mediocrity. The album does, in this sense, recall an album remarkably. A series of episodes, perhaps, or Ulysses—either way, it’s less a progression with a plot than a segment of existence, amplified and polished. One can see, then, why Ostiguy picks up anything that pleases him. Knife-like synthesizer outlining a trumpet’s warm aria on “Hearts at the Door,” for instance—it’s his diary, after all. He includes things as they come to him, as he encounters them. It sounds like a disaster waiting to happen, but, often inexplicably, it achieves a sublime pleasance. How ironic, the delight that can come from a man’s misery.

Taigaa – Taigaa!

Half a minute into the album, it is quite evident that Taigaa took the musical road less traveled. The first track, “Queen of Black Diamond,” opens with pizzicato strings and a menacing minor tone. The only comparison might be to kitschy groups like Squirrel Nut Zippers or Combustible Edison. The music isn’t even really rock, but might be a little too punk for purists of the folk variety.

As soon as track two begins, something strange happens. More violins and frantic drums combine in what could be an old Hebrew tune. Against this unholy Hatikvah are a mantra of surreal lyrics like “Ennui, ennui, ennui catastrophe.” Synths, violins and what sounds like a penny whistle against an urgent cry of: “Owl, owl, owl, owl, break a parrot, drown me.”

Then there’s “Cosmic Matador.” This one starts out with a classical sounding Spanish air, which develops into an army of dueling violins reminiscent of Kronos Quartet performing some experimental bit by Cage or some such. More mystifying lyrics like “Motionless bull shadow! Veronica. Vessels of blood, hairy mud matador.” Taiga takes a lesson from the Dada school of surreal creations made if for no other reason than to push the envelope of what exists in the realm of art.

Just when it seems that this is just a quirky album of seemingly meaningless words against a myriad of folk traditions the delicious minimalist, synth driven “Deep Mustache Forest” begins. This one is one part Philip Glass, one part early Pink Floyd and one part ingredient X, whatever it is that Taigaa infuses their strange and lovable tunes with.

“Pirate Gold” is a gem, under a minute in length, it sounds like something that could be performed on stage at a surrealist Bar Mitzvah. At this point, over three quarters of the way through the album, I realize why this album seems as menacing as the disturbing and beautiful cover art. Every song is in a minor key!

The only complaint that could be lodged against this group might be the fact that most of the songs sound like avant-garde covers of “Hava Negilah” with keyboards. Despite thematic similarities, however, each of Taigaa’s unique songs shines in its own way.

Trainwreck – Dust From Our Fingers

Hard hitting drums, ferocious guitar lines, throat shredding vocals, inaudible bass lines…all the things that make underground hardcore bands great. Trainwreck have all of these traits and more. They even include a breakdown worthy of American mosh bands, but executed much more tastefully.

“Dust from Our Fingers” reminds me a little bit of old Wolves, with some midwestern hardcore. Actually, scratch that, this band could have come out of Florida in the mid to late nineties easily. I could picture this song being on the 403 Chaos Comp. Yeah, a few off time beats, harsh recording, great vocals, catchy/hummable guitar parts…definitely a shoe in for 403. These are the songs that make me glad I review music.

Harper Lee – He Holds A Flame EP

There are a handful of record labels where you have the option to buy anything on their roster and be assured of its greatness even if you aren’t familiar with the artist. I always trust the folks at Matinee Records, because they never seem to put out bad records. They know which artists we’ve been waiting to see reissued (see: The Razorcuts); they always find the artists we’ve been waiting to hear (see: Math & Physics Club), and they are especially adept at locating new bands that are fronted by artists who were in bands we used to love (see: Harper Lee). Harper Lee is made up of two people, Keris Howard and Laura Bridge, who used to be in two terrific bands, one of which is still going — Brighter and Hood, respectively, to form an equally exquisite group. If you can recall the airy, pop brilliance of Brighter, which isn’t too difficult because Matinee has made it quite easy for you to find most (if not all) their entire recorded output, matched with some lo-fi electronic orchestration reminiscent of Hood, then you’re close to the formula created here on their wonderful new EP called He Holds A Flame.

Their first release in two years, which sports a nice picture of a nighttime carousel, contains five songs that are as wonderfully catchy as anything they’ve done. On the title track, which is presented here in two different takes, Harper Lee air out the chiming guitars and immediately remind me that Grant McLennan of the Go-Betweens passed away earlier this year, barely getting a notice between the unfortunate deaths of Arthur Lee and Syd Barrett. Harper Lee, who I’m quite certain are/were well-aware of the Go-Betweens existence, create the kind of lush pop that, more often than not, is a dime-a-dozen these days. But what sets Harper Lee apart from the many throwaway bands is the earnestness of the music and the eloquence of the lyrics. It’s fragile pop for sure, often hinging at a breaking point before being enveloped in a magnificent breath of fresh air. By the time we get to “I Could Be Wrong”, there is such a natural progression that the song almost seems like an extension of the title track. “William Blake”, on the other hand, changes things around quite a bit adding keyboards and giving the listener a little pop with a layer of atmospheric glaze surrounding it.

Interview with Brian Vander Ark

Brian Vander Ark has damn near done it all when it comes to being an artist in this tangled web we call the music business. Played Holiday Inn’s growing up. Having a huge local following. Selling a million albums. Opening for Kiss. Getting dropped by his label. Like I said, damn near everything.

He has also crafted some of the finest songs of the last two decades, with his band the Verve Pipe, and on his two solo releases. For those of you who have read my work, you all know that BVA is one of my favorite artists, so please understand that is what a thrill for this writer to exchange emails with one of his musical heroes.

The story of this interview is actually interesting, and I will share it with you, my fair readers. The first week of December, I was informed that I was going to be fired from my full time job. That sucked big time, but they gave me a month’s notice, so guess who took advantage of that? Yes, I did. One afternoon, as I was working on my “Solo Tip” column, I randomly emailed BVA’s management a feeble interview request. Much to my surprise, I was informed that he was in the office for the next hour, and if I wanted my interview, I better get on it. He told me to keep my questions below ten, and to be brief. So meeting those stipulations, here is what transpired with Brian Vander Ark.

Jeff Crowder 2006 saw the release of your second solo album Angel, Put Your Face On. The record was recorded independently, without any label pressures. Compare the process of writing and recording this album to that of your work with the Verve Pipe.

Brian Vander Ark No comparison, really. the only person I had to bounce things off of is a producer. Most times. I get exactly what I want, without compromise.

DOA How was working with Nashville studio pros? And the production team of Coomer and Bocco?

BVA Great time! They are both tremendous, and telling someone what you want to hear, and getting it is a wonderful thing.

DOA Are you currently shopping the album to different labels, and if so, any news?

BVA I have no interest in the label thing right now.

DOA Is the Verve Pipe a functioning band at this point, or do you just play together for the hell of it?

BVA For the hell of it.

DOA With the experience of being a platinum artist in hand, how did your ego take it having to ask for money to finish your album?

BVA My ego took a bashing years ago with the release of the “Frog” album. (BVA is referring to the Verve Pipe’s self titled second album for RCA. The album was a major burden to BVA, as RCA hired hot produce Michael Beinhorn to work on the album. The results were not welcome by the record buying public, but the album remains a favorite of hardcore Verve Pipe fans.)

DOA In some of your older diary entries you mention having stopped drinking. Has being sober influenced the new album, and if so, in what way?

BVA Not really. Just recorded things with much more clarity.

DOA What were your top five (professional) moments in 2006?

BVA Ah…I’m still waiting!

DOA What were your top five albums of 2006?

BVA I haven’t listened to a thing! Sorry…

DOA What does 2007 hold for BVA?

BVAWork, work, work. More songwriting too.

As of today, BVA lives in Michigan with his wife and daughter, and he has been breaking into some new markets for himself. His web page is being rebuilt, so you can check on tour dates, read his blog, and listen to some free tunes on his myspace page.

80th Disorder – Transform EP

Know of any bands from Finland? I can’t seem to think of any right now, excepting 80th Disorder — and it’s only because I have its CD right in front of me. This release, Transform, shows a band comfortably re-living the days when OMD and Ultravox were ascendant. But Midge Ure seems like less of an influence overall than does Adrien Borland of the criminally overlooked band The Sound.

The band describes itself as synth-wave, which is apposite as far as it goes. The synths do underpin the songs with atmospheric chords in a bunch of places. But they don’t dominate the sound, and synth acts like Human League and Heaven 17 never had the kind of drumming and guitar work that you’ll hear on Transform. Transform, instead, sounds more like an extension of The Sound’s Shock of Daylight with touches of Talk Talk, especially in the vocals.

For example, the title track’s bass and slightly syncopated drumming carry the song’s verses. The compressed/sustained guitar’s lines come in during the bridges, but it’s the rhythm section that makes the song move. “Sympathy One” also uses a rolling bass line to give it character. The mournful and slightly histrionic vocals have that Talk Talk feel to them. Plus, the song opens and closes with only drums. Acoustic drums, actually – there are no synthetic beats here at all.

“Desolate Journey” shows an early Cure or Banshees influence as it starts: the toms, the bass. It’s kind of sinister as it progresses, but it sounds like play-acting. Its attempt at urgency via the vocals doesn’t quite convey, but once the Adrien Borland guitar kicks in it does find some momentum. Its abrupt ending surprises you. “Death In Venice” has an elegiac aspect to it. It’s slower than the other songs and musically keeps things pretty simple so that you find yourself focusing mostly on the singing.

This EP shows some promise, and – because it made me remember how good Shock of Daylight was for its time – I have to wonder whether a full-length will favor The Sound over The Cure. I vote for The Sound.

Jeroan Drive – Deathrow Industry

Jeroan Drive are a band hailing from Bergen, Norway. This song will win over many converts to hardcore. With a sound reminiscent of The Almighty Ink and Dagger (Drive This Seven Inch Stake Through This Philadelphia Heart era), a little Blood brothers, and a dash of San Diego snottiness via Three One G.

“Deathrow Industry” could have been easily written by Don Devore, with the vocals eerily channeling Sean Patrick McCabe (RIP). This song ranks really up there for me because Ink and Dagger were one of my favorite bands of all time, mixing emotion with heavy dissonant guitars circa 1997. This song has razor sharp guitar lines that sound really full and heavy, with the drums laying down a cymbal heavy barricade, and the vocals sound manic.

I want this band to play over here and cover “Ladylove.” C’mon guys, lets get this going!

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