Lazarus – Hawk Medicine

William Faulkner once said if he could be any animal it would be a vulture. A vulture answers to no one. A vulture can fly. And things die, so there will always be accessible food.
Hawk Medicine captures some of that dreadful southern Gothic heat of the Faulkner world and uses it to sweat stories out of Trevor Montgomery (LaZarus). All of Montgomery’s music choices reflect a style that yearns for tall pines to comb over human suffering and longing. And of course there must be rich, mysterious stories (the kind where characters just appear with blood on their shirts and hands) mingled with the forgivable slacker asides lamenting consumer America.
“Story” cracks open the creaky door where an organ sound and a cloud of smoke from an old Animals concert envelops you. It tells you in its title that there will be a story. But these are mysterious songs. They don’t give you the quest, conflict and epiphany. The storyteller seems distracted by darker forces.
For a moodswing listen 4 minutes and 10 seconds into “Baby True” where guitars begin to ring slowly with the histrionics of near-shrill ghost crickets, interrupting the soft Spaghetti Western guitar riff. The ambience laid down by the backing bands shrouds the words in mystery. The end of “Baby True” falls into peaceful reverb gauze, you could wrap it around a wound.
Montgomery, or any one else who tells their listeners to “surrender to the heart/surrender to the sky” is probably too nice to be a vulture. When talking about Lazarus, and his 3rd album here about a Hawk, it’s important to think about where this kind of fantasy might come from.
Think of a flying Hawk, with cold experience and thoughts too deadly to be a harmless bird. See this Hawk effortlessly spreading its wings to get away from the ugliness and boos and prattle of the every day grind, or, more specifically, a poorly attended indie rock show.

“First I’d like to clear my head/ Next I’d like to take a walk/ To the most glorious place/ Every hour, every place/ Someday I will be what I want to be/ Till then I will sing/Walk right up and kiss your cheek.” – “Breathe”

Lazarus has reportedly put a lot of human experience behind his songs. His characters are hurt or hurting and the only mending cream is really the touch of a woman. The mine from which “Like Trees We Grow Up to be Satellites” came was full of torment and personal redemption for Montgomery. When he took these songs out on the road, not every one listened. In fact they talked.
In 2004 there was, and there still is, a little dive of a rock venue that straddles the bridge thin line between the richest of Oklahoma city and the poorest of Oklahoma City. The club has been soiled with every fluid imaginable and its floor, heavily scuffed and scratched, still bears the original black and white checkered design. The bathrooms will always smell like piss and be charmingly the white-out advertisements of lesser bands.
The Conservatory is one of two clubs in Oklahoma which consistently welcomes indie rock bands. Though the owners of these clubs welcome the bands; audiences are always a crap shoot. Sometimes listening in squalor, leads to acting like squawking jerks.
A gaunt, bearded man with a guitar strapped around his bag began singing songs. He enunciated each word, he didn’t have much in a his natural husky singing voice, but effort. He was singing the shit out of these songs as the chorus of talk in the audience grew higher.
“Thank you,” I remember him saying to the audience before he left the stage.
Enter The Explosions in the Sky guys who had been watching the set and peering over talking heads from various points in the club. This was a time in their career when Explosions was starting to reach new fans. Friday Night Lights would come out in theaters in less than a year and the band had just released The Earth is Not a Cold Dead Place to solid reviews on Web zines. They attracted the kind of crowd that usually hovers around buzz.
And guitarist Munaf Rayani sure shut them up. He put on his guitar and barked into the microphone. His voice quavered. He told everyone in the audience that each of them were not half the man that Mr. Lazarus was. Rayani scolded them for talking and smoking and drinking while this man put his soul on the stage. We wouldn’t be an ounce of what this man was, we were told.
“Tonight, we will be Troubadours of Light,” he said. And no one from the band addressed the audience again. Anger erupted in guitar swells that sounded something like righteousness.
And I’ve rarely seen a band rock so hard. In their pissed off state, the boys from Explosions pounded their instruments, lingered over the quiet spots. Rayani threw his guitar on the ground after a crescendo and his mouth would wince and writhe in agony. A shrill war cry from him mixed in with the reverb. It seemed to me that show was for their friend and tourmate. Instead of telling Oklahoma City to fuck off, they gave one of the best shows I’ve ever seen.

“I’ll show you my hand, and/ then we can cut loose/ I’ll wash off the blood/ And I’ll put on my shoes/And put on your make up/ You are looking damn good/ I shake off those weeks/ I got something to do/ What it is ain’t exactly clear/ Path will show itself soon/ Oh baby, baby true/Your mind it got lost and your heart is turning blue/ Oh baby, baby true/ Your dress looks so soft under the light of the moon” – “Baby True”

A wound is wrapped by a babe in the woods. Lazarus was at a disadvantage that night. And I always wished the best for him. But well wishes are for naught when it comes to listening to a record in the cold dark of your own house. That’s when an unsympathetic decision emerges. And this is the first time I’ve come to spend time with Lazarus without the talkers.
Lazarus creates a mood from the very first note. Poets would like this. And if there was tension in his previous efforts, it wasn’t as vivid as it is now. The words to “Baby True” unfold slow, from acoustic to electric, to open strings, into open space before these words fall into dissonance. The backing band on Hawk Medicine really helped Montgomery’s ideas materialize into good listening. This is a complete album, evoking an imaginary West where the criminals wear bleeding hearts. Lazarus comes limping, then running with bell chimes, wind and echoes, amps and drums in Texas heat. Montgomery knows he’s seen too much to be a sparrow, so he swallows the hawk medication and finds himself “surrendering to the heart” and thinking about a lady.

The Union Trade – Now The Swell

There’s not much to say about The Union Trade and its latest EP Now The Swell. The group doesn’t have any noticeable, deal-breaking flaws, but there isn’t anything spectacular about them either.

Union Trade is post-rock in the vein of Mogwai and Explosions in the Sky – with a large focus on rock instrumentation and groove. It’s flashy and slightly epic, but it is too simplistic and straightforward, with some rough drums and guitars that swell until they are puffed up and close to bursting. Nothing really seems to go anywhere, and that weird, unresolved feeling radiates off the record, which not only takes me out of the moment but also raises the deadly question no bands wants brought up: Haven’t I heard this before, but done better?

What is most interesting about Now The Swell, and the one thing that kept me listening, is the subtle use of vocals as an instrument. On the first two tracks, “Strings Break” and “Violent and Beautiful”, the vocals are spare and shoved in the back of the mix, used as harmony and a nice contrast to the otherwise, big, expanding sound. However, The Union Trade blow its good will with “Hopeless”, where the vocals are the forefront and the (vastly more interesting) rock/orchestral timbre transforms into a mediocre early nineties indie rock song.

This EP isn’t bad, but fans of post-rock should check out the much better efforts of Saxon Shore, if you have not already.

La Brea – s/t

La Brea is a Philadelphia based 10-piece instrumental group manned at the helm by J.P. Singletary. Singletary, the composer who plays guitar and other instruments, was joined in the studio by a host of local jazz and classical musicians contributing keys, horns, strings, and even a bit of didgeridoo.

The eight song, self-titled disc begins with a fairly short, classical piece titled “Tarred and Feathered”. It’s quite minimalist and makes it hard to tell what direction La Brea will go in from here. “Magnet Pulls North” is much more lush, but still moderately subdued. This is where you begin to get a cinematic feel. It’s easy to imagine this song as a backdrop to a beautiful scene in a movie or as your own personal soundtrack to a day spent lying on your back in a park watching the clouds go by.

La Brea begins to bring much more depth and texture to “Incubation” – this is the first place on the album that you really get the sense of multiple musicians at work instead of just one or two. “Reign of the Idiot God” – a twelve minute twelve second epic – takes the group in a much different direction. This time the song evolves into something very technical with a much harder sound. It’s not quite metal, not quite math rock, but it definitely has an edge and the drums and guitar take center stage.

The second longest track on La Brea is the mini-epic “Fell Into the Sun” – ‘mini’ because it clocks in at about minutes shorter than “Reign of the Idiot God”. This song returns to the more cinematic quality of its predecessors. The strings glide this piece along to about the six minute mark where La Brea plugs in some samples and electronic fuzz. A somewhat longer – and different – “Tarred and Feathered” brings the album full circle.

La Brea’s first release is extremely solid for such a young group. Although it would be interesting to see the group expand on some of the ideas here – the more technical stuff especially – this album is absolutely worth seeking out.

Akimbo – Navigating the Bronze

I never heard anything by Akimbo prior to Navigating the Bronze. The album artwork suggests that this is a stoner rock band, and trust me there are some influences there. But to say they can be easily lumped into one category would be a lie. They play with many early rock styles added to a post-hardcore sound, not to mention a punk attitude. Though the vocals wouldn’t normally be my cup of tea, the instruments take the forefront and combined they make a good balance creating a refreshing record to jam to.

The opener, “You Can Smell the Honey” immediately exposes the listener to what Akimbo is all about on this record. It explodes in all its post-punk glory followed by your normal hardcore breakdowns. Like I said before, the instrumental side of this record really shines with some pretty simple yet clever solo work towards the end of this first track. This carries over nicely into the next track, “Wizard Van Wizard”, where the pacing is everywhere. The breakdowns on this song are awesome little jam numbers straight out of the late 60’s or early 70’s.

“Dungeon Bastard” is heavily steeped in a classic rock sound minus the vocals, but for some reason they work anyway. This is one of the slower yet equally energetic songs of the record. One of my favorite tracks, “Huge Muscles” features an awesome little solo midway which added some dimension to what could have been a run-of-the-mill hardcore song. Of course the breakdowns are awesome, even though they are often derivative. Percussionists everywhere will appreciate the drum solo that is “Roman Coins”. It definitely adds a little something extra, proving that even drummers for hardcore bands are capable of more than a simple 2/4 beat.

The group’s greatest accomplishments are found in “Megatherium”. The instrumentation is nothing short of brilliant. Often times they channel metal gods Mastodon on this track. It’s still Akimbo, but they prove that they are capable of some great stuff. The slow brooding stuff is truly killer and some will inevitably get chills.

So for fans of heavy music, Akimbo’s Navigating the Bronze is worthy of at least “Megatherium”, which should instantly make you a fan. But this is not just for fans of hardcore or metal, even fans of classic rock will find something to like in here, and that’s more than most bands can say.

Small Arms Dealer – Patron Saint of Disappointment

Contrary to what the name might indicate to some, Small Arms Dealer does everything but disappoint with this awesome new album. The group comes out with guns blazing and shows no mercy on Patron Saint of Disappointment. The reckless, uncompromising style combines contagious melodies and meaningful lyrics to create no-bullshit punk rock, plain and simple. Small Arms Dealer happily lacks frills and schmaltziness, and each song surges forward with uncontainable passion and hard-hitting vocals.

As with all good punk rock, Small Arms Dealer needs to be listened to on a stereo with gigantic speakers and a room full of your friends. Hard-nosed, irrepressible energy explodes out of this album with every note and isn’t for the faint of heart. These boys from Long Island emphatically declare their beliefs and make absolutely no apologies for it. Their shows must blow the roof off each place they play, and based on the aggression in each song, their instruments must be destroyed as well. Fans of Kid Dynamite, Bear Versus Shark, or Good Riddance will find Small Arms Dealer right up their alley.

Although almost every track is excellent, a few really stand out. The blistering riffs, gritty vocals and real messages in the lyrics make “Halved Dog Alive (For The Second Time)”, “Oh, My Stars And Martyrs”, and “Whole Company’s Countin’ On Ya” the best of the bunch.

Small Arms Dealer makes the type of unabashed punk rock that I have come to know, love, and go nuts for, and all fans of punk rock should check this album out.

R.E.M. – R.E.M. Live (2CD+DVD)

If there is any braying demand for a full-fledged ‘official’ R.E.M. live album – after years of relegating such material to B-sides, compilations and concert videos/DVDs – then it probably isn’t for one culling performances from the current decade. A ragged pre-Murmur set would certainly be historically intriguing, shows taped between 1985’s Fables of The Reconstruction and 1986’s Lifes Rich Pageant could potentially hold some invigorating moments, decent companion CDs to the self-descriptively titled 1990 flick Tourfilm and the band’s first MTV Unplugged session would undoubtedly be welcomed too – but surely there’s been no raging lust for post-Bill Berry concert recordings from 2005?

Was this collection merely conceived by Warners to recoup the huge advance for renewing the group’s contract around 1996’s New Adventures In Hi-Fi? Whilst conceding to label pressures is certainly something Peter Buck, Mike Mills and Michael Stipe might never openly admit to, they may one day begrudgingly confess to this being an attempt to reconnect with their ‘organic’ creative principles, that have all but been eviscerated by the ponderous and over-polished displeasures of 2001’s Reveal and 2004’s Around The Sun, especially given that tracks from the latter LP seem so deliberately and desperately pushed to the fore. Whereas the financial success of a possible commercial compromise is hard to judge this side of the Christmas sales figures, attempts to rejuvenate music seen as past the ‘listen-by-date’ are easier to assess.

It’s certainly fair to say that the songs picked from the otherwise unloved Around The Sun do sound a lot more muscular and rawer than their over-cooked studio incarnations. “Boy In The Well” picks-up a darker gravitas not dissimilar to “Undertow” from the underrated New Adventures. The strangely-endearing “Electron Blue” and the lush “Leaving New York” reposition themselves to be like the better cuts on 1998’s meandering Up. The Bush-baiting “Final Straw” finally has its poignant yet angry lyric matched properly, with an insistent early-Dylan semi-acoustic groove. Sadly, the equally politicised “I Wanted To Be Wrong” is still flatly-rendered with syrupy synths and the forgettable “Ascent of Man” flops around again in its own tediousness.

Beyond brave efforts to rehabilitate Around The Sun, the augmented-trio also make detours into lesser-aired back catalogue entries, with largely commendable results. “I Took Your Name” and “Walk Unafraid” are resuscitated with reassuringly powerful menace. The vintage eco-hymn “Cuyahoga” comes with renewed zeitgeist-relevant gusto, as does the prowling “Orange Crush” and the sublime “Drive”. A couple of the more obscure flashbacks stumble a little though, with “So Fast, So Numb” tossed-off somewhat sarcastically and “(Don’t Go Back To) Rockville” being maimed with a corny Mills lead-vocal. However, the previously unreleased glam-pop-racket of “I’m Gonna DJ” does help to liven-up the encore, as a sort-of-sequel to the Monster outtake and onetime tour favourite “Revolution”.

And then there’s the bonafide ‘hits’ of course. It’s hard not to be swept-up in the euphoric delivery of “Bad Day”, “Imitation of Life”, “What’s The Frequency, Kenneth?”, “The Great Beyond” and “The One I Love” but it’s a little tougher to sustain such deep affection for “Losing My Religion”, “Everybody Hurts” and “Man On The Moon” due to their over-played familiarity and Stipe’s increasingly-coarse larynx.

Whilst the 2 audio CDs here will get (and generally deserve) a good few spins, the accompanying DVD (featuring the exact same content) is really more for the truly devoted fan, who can get past the slightly pretentious camera work, the Zoo TV-aping on-stage visuals and Stipe’s joke-worn-thin face-paint. If you still need a truly innovative reel of R.E.M. show footage, then the DVD reissue of Tourfilm is still the place to go. Taken as a whole package though, R.E.M. Live is a flawed but respectable enough addition to the canon of three men who can still conjure up a bit of magic, albeit in spite of themselves.

The Drift – Ceiling Sky

Let me clear something up before we get started: I like jazz a lot. Thelonious Monk, Miles Davis, Charlie Parker…I enjoy their music. I also enjoy newer stuff like Medeski Martin and Wood and even jazz-indie rock hybrids similar to The Drift such as the Mercury Program.

Basically I’m telling you this because some of you reading this might write off my opinion either way it falls because you might think a foul-mouthed, snobby indie rock critic like myself doesn’t like jazz, but that is definitely not the case.

So please believe me when I tell you that Ceiling Sky is boring as all fuck.

The tracks collected on this album were previously only available on vinyl, but are now on CD for your listening pleasure. The problem is that there’s really no reason for this, far as I can tell. Die hards probably have the records in question and I hope to god these songs are on the weaker end of their catalogue anyway. Also, two of them are remixes. It’s not like this release is going to take their fanbase to another level.

The collection begins with “Streets,” which is an ambient sounding jazz-rock number based around the rhythm section of upright bassist Safa Shokrai and drummer Rich Douthit. The song involves some atmospheric guitar and fairly impressive trumpeting, building slowly, and never really delivering a payoff. It might be fine if it was, say, four minutes of this, but instead it is a pretty damn repetitive 10 minutes. Around the 7 minute mark, there’s about an interesting 40 seconds where the trumpet and guitar get a little more aggressive, but for the most part, it’s not very appealing.

The next song, “Nozomi” starts with four minutes of the same atmospheric sounding guitar and then proceeds to sound like the first song. “For Grace And Stars” is another slow-builder that never really gets to a point. Do you get what I’m driving at here? There’s nothing that really grabs the attention, and considering these songs are all 9-13 minutes long, that’s a big problem.

As I mentioned before, the last two tracks are remixes, and the album doesn’t really get any better. The Four Tet remix of “Gardening, Not Architecture” actually begins with an interesting beat similar to Endtroducing era DJ Shadow, but quickly becomes disorienting enough that I had to turn it off because it was making me nauseous. The Sybarite remix of “Invisible Cities” sounds like something the band could’ve done themselves, although I don’t have any frame of reference since I’ve never heard the original track, but if someone told me this was an original Drift song, I’d have no reason to question them.

So, essentially, this is a pretty weak release from a band I know nothing of. Not only that, but I feel like I listened to an hour’s worth of their music and I still have very little feel for what they’re about. I suppose this would make good background music, or it might be interesting if you smoke a lot of pot, but for me…well, I’m gonna go listen to Straight, No Chaser and forget this ever happened.

Kristy Thirsk – Souvenir

Kristy Thirsk has a long career in the music sphere, starting out with the band Rose Chronicles in Canada, where she vocally soared and rocked out, and then collaborating with artists like Delerium on several songs (“Flowers Become Screens”, “Heaven’s Earth”, and “Enchanted”) and Justin Elswick’s Sleepthief. The trajectory of her musical projects has her going from the rawer, indie sound of Rose Chronicles to a smoother style of an electronica songstress.

Now Kristy presents herself as a solo artist and offers up her debut album, Souvenir on import. While her voice is still as clear and strong as ever, and the relationship-based lyrics prove insightful, some of her songs lack the allure or punch of an electronica or indie-rock song, respectively. Most of these songs have a “coffeehouse” feel – a showcase for a girl and her guitar (albeit with a fuller sound), and although there’s nothing wrong with that, there is an overload of this style at the moment.

The main hook of this album is Kristy’s voice. She has a sharp edge to her vocals, kind of like Liz Fraser of Cocteau Twins, with a duality to her delivery – a lighter, angelic, stratospheric tone verses her harsher, keening, earthier voice.

The first two songs, “Indifference” and “Imagination”, have Kristy sounding like Tori Amos, a lyrics-oriented singer-songwriter with captivating vocals, but song structures that don’t let her vocals breathe enough and fly away.

The country-tinged “At The Border” plays it tame and safe, with hushed verses and clear, aching vocals on the chorus. The angelic notes are hit sparsely and only in the background of the chorus. Once again, on “Home For Angels”, Kristy shows that she has the vocal chops, but the slow, measured pace of the song lets her down.

“Run Away” was the ‘single’ off the album, and it’s guitar-based and melancholy, but sweet, with Kristy’s aching vocals on the verse and a burst of higher tones on the chorus amid faster-strummed guitars. On the second verse, there is great use of her high vocals, where she sings in two different registers (and sounds like two different singers), and the twinning of the vocals on the chorus section is beguiling.

“Hollywood” is more mellow and spare, with a slow beat, guitar strum, and strings that come and go, as Kristy weaves her vocals sadly, but smoothly against the meandering guitar line. She ends up pushing her vocals to the point of sounding a little rough on the chorus and it’s a welcome change from the easy vocal flow of the previous songs. The lyrics of this song stand out, especially “Let’s pretend our children are perfect and happy…”

On the next song, “If Only”, the “singer-songwriter” tag applies, with Kirsty sounding like she could be a VH-1 songstress, but with more vocal range and emotion than what’s usually presented in that style. The song opens with laid-back guitar strum and beat, and high, angelic, wordless vocal calls. The verse then switches to plain vocals as she sings about no more war and no more bombs and wishing “If only this life never ends…”

“Second Fiddle” is a mid-tempo song with a steady beat, guitar line, and loop of Kristy’s high, sweet vocals singing “doo-doo” (yes, it sounds much better than it looks!) at the start. The plain vocals of the verse sound like Liz Fraser of Cocteau Twins, with the vocals warbling up and down and being accented by a second vocal line that’s higher in tone. Kristy gets a bit sneering and Sinead O’Connor-like at the ends of the verse phrases (on words like “higher” and “liar”). The lyrics are emphasized with a pushing vocal delivery and made pretty by the ephemeral, floating high vocals of the chorus and – a Kristy Thirsk speciality – the high register, wordless call two thirds of the way through the song.

“Hypnotized” is another mid-tempo song (Kristy needs to break free of this type of song) with country-type guitar and crying, plaintive vocals on the verses, and sweet, doubled vocals on chorus parts.

“Take You On” begins with Kristy’s highest siren-call yet, augmented with faster paced drums and guitar. Then her plain, more hushed vocals come in, with doubled vocal touches in a more melancholy tone. The lyrics-heavy song is about a bad relationship as evidenced by the following lines: “How many times…how many crimes can be hidden by your lies?” and “How many times can a heart break before it can’t be fixed again?”. Mellow guitar strum and plain verses that get stronger as “In The Dream” progresses make this song keeningly heartfelt.

Kristy finally stretches out musically with “Whitelight”, a different type of song style than everything else on this album, with Middle Eastern-tinged instruments and sinuous vocal calling loop, all breathy and wordless vocals, and almost Collide-like with the rich, sumptuous sound and Kristy’s lower-key, seductive vocals. “Whitelight” is definitely a highlight of the album, with the higher-flying, sometimes doubled vocals on the chorus and sonic variation.

“Souvenir” closes (aside from the bonus track) the album in a contemplative bent, with slow guitar strum and a distant The Church-like guitar line. Kristy’s plaintive, bittersweet vocals are aching and drawn out, especially on the verses as she sings “She’s…just…a souvenir, you’ll never stay here.”. This is another lyrics-oriented song, with just backing guitars, and eventually melancholy, low-toned strings that echo Kristy’s distress. Her high-sky vocals on the chorus come on like a cry, backed by sawing cellos and finally guitar strum.

The bonus track “Over It” is a mid-tempo rocker for a change, with a steady beat, country-type guitars, and fuzzy, grumbling guitars. Kristy’s vocals are upbeat for once, strong and more coy, as she says “I was never lost…I never felt so alive” and “I’m alive and more wise – and know that I got over it”. She is vindicated and triumphant over the past – whether it’s weathering the break up of Rose Chronicles or talking about past relationships in general, she says, “I’m better off alone”.

Meneguar – Strangers In Our House

What do you need to know about Meneguar’s new release Strangers In Our House? It’s from Troubleman, a label that has lots of solid artists to recommend it. The CD comes with some nice packaging: art-designed covers with interesting juxtapositions of images, more whacked-out images inside, full lyrics tucked in an inner pocket. And the music…

The album starts with the galloping “Table 2,” a punk-paced take on what it’s like to counsel the disillusioned. Imagine taking Les Savy Fav, speeding it up, and having Long Fin Killie’s singer at the mic. The Les Savy Fav comparison is hard to avoid on certain other songs as well. “Scrape And A Pull” bears this out structurally and sonically, what with the choppy guitar intermissions and the rhythmic shifts. Likewise “Death On Display,” with other Savy flourishes cropping up here and elsewhere. This isn’t a bad thing, though, as fans of the one band will almost surely enjoy the other. Not a ripoff, not an homage, just a kinship.

The Meneguar sound is a combination of unusual melodies, emphatic drums, cryptic bass (for one thing, it jumps from high to low at unexpected times – following and then departing from your expectations), and passionate singing. “Passionate singing” sounds emo, but it’s not meant that way. It just means that the vocals are sung with conviction. The lyrics move from the abstract to the concrete and back again, much like the images and photographs contained in the album’s packaging. It’s intelligently done. In fact, the music is intelligently done: on the surface it’s like a lot of other indie rock but compositionally there’s a lot going on.

Earlier, Meneguar released a 7″ of “Bury A Flower” and “Freshman Thoughts,” both of which appear on Strangers In Our House. They’re fine examples of the band’s modus operandi, yes, but truth be told any of the songs on the CD would make a decent single. If the band were wooing Futureheads fans, it might have released “Hurry Up” backed with “One Thousand Actors.” Those two songs equal or better most anything Futureheads put on their last album and get at what was engaging about Futureheads’ first release.

One thing that’s lacking here is a pronunciation guide to the band’s name. Is it meNEGuar? MEneguar? meneGUAR? It helps to know this when you want to recommend the album to your friends, which you’ll probably do with a greater frequency than you did with most of the albums you heard this year.

Small Wonders #8

The Saturday Nights – Rabid Wolves/System of Control 7″
Self released (www.myspace.com/saturdaynights)
The Saturday Nights are a power pop band from Chicago. Both sides of this 7″, “Rabid Wolves” and “System of Control” remind me of classic stuff like Big Star or early Posies material. This is not really my cup of tea but they managed to hold my attention anyway. It sounds like something that would’ve fit comfortably on one of those Parasol Records Sweet 16 comps sitting next to something like Neilson Hubbard or Shalini. Sugary sweet vocal harmonies on clear blue vinyl.

Yellow Swans – Drowner Yellow Swans c62
Tape Room
New tour only tape from Yellow Swans on John Wiese’s new label Tape Room. If you’ve picked up their new At All Ends full-length on Load you’ll have some idea of where they’re going. It seems like they’re removing themselves from the more beat-oriented proto-industrial style of Psychic Secession. This is more in line with something like Geoff Mullen, Phillip Jeck, or Machinefabriek even. Billowy clouds of distortion piled into layer upon layer. Probably limited as hell. Make sure to check them out on tour right now as the material I saw them play was fairly close in texture to what’s on this tape. They’re getting better and better. The proof is here.

Tim Coster – Holding Plants CD-R
Rural Faune (www.ruralfaune.co.nr)
Some of you might remember my review of Tim Coster’s Rowboat/Blackberry 3″ CD-R from Small Wonders #3. He’s definitely been doing some interesting work and it’s obvious from the get-go on Holding Plants that this time there are some field recordings involved. A little over a minute into single 20 minute track he introduces a twilight drone that continues until the end of the piece. This is definitely closer to the material on his Landing record than that other CD-R. I want to say that it sounds like something that would come out of the Jewelled Antler Collective if they were more into the quiet/minimal electro-acoustic stuff than battery generated forest folk. This isn’t bad by any means but it really isn’t all that engaging either.

Octis – Social Club No. 6 7″
Social Registry (www.thesocialregistry.com)
Another of Mick Barr’s solo guitar excursions, this time under the moniker Octis. This reminds me of a whittled down version of his band Orthrelm’s Ov album minus the roto-tom workout. I must admit that I’m not a huge Mick Barr fan either, in fact I pretty much abhor some of his work. This is actually much better than it has any right to be, and like the aforementioned Orthrelm album it is one of the exceptions to the general malaise I feel when listening to something like his Ocrilim project. Two thumbs way up.

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