Hundreds and Thousands – s/t

Los Angeles trio Hundreds and Thousands, signed to Heart Break Beat Records, makes gritty, hard-nosed post-punk, and the band cites Husker Du and the Minutemen among their influences. Unfortunately, this self-titled 6-track EP is mediocre at best, and Hundreds and Thousands, based on this substandard effort, has a long way to go.

Recorded completely on analog equipment, the production is fantastic, but this does little to make up for the drab, tedious melodies and forced, repetitive vocals. Bassist Noah Wolf is easily the strongest element on this record, and some solid drumming surfaces sporadically, for example on the so-so “Ned Kelly.” Lead singer James Griffin lacks the necessary vocal range to keep these tracks interesting on that level, and there is little variation from song to song in terms of both content and tempo. Perhaps the best track, ironically enough, is “Good But Not Great,” possibly because there are no vocals for roughly half of the song, and the drumming here is actually quite good. “We Ourselves” sounds like a rock version of Christmas song “We Three Kings,” and this album is passable at best. For loud, driving rock, there are better options out there. Hundreds and Thousands will hopefully continue to polish their sound and hone their skills in future releases.

Aloha – Light Works EP

When Tony Cavallario sings “I’ve been waiting for you” on the first track of Aloha’s Light Works EP, you believe it; Cavallario is actively trying to convince you of his longing. Everything ties together on the first four tracks; it’s great! The lyrics are wonderful, the sounds are eclectic and cohesive. Coming out of these four tracks, I feel like these are a few of Aloha’s best tracks, but that’s when the lack of determination and consistency comes in. Aloha seem to have thrown together some sappy, radio-friendly tracks for the ending.

I can’t help but hear the sounds of John Mayer and Coldplay in the Light Works EP‘s end. When I start to hear whispery vocals and softly strummed guitars is where I draw the line – I don’t want a slow-dance, I don’t want to cry, and my girlfriend treats me well (although the distance sucks); my life is going well. I feel that Aloha don’t understand how hard it is to make overly emotional songs with no edge – a real one, not an ironic one – appealing to a male; specifically a male who is not going through puberty.

Aloha’s Light Works EP is well summed up by the chorus of the fifth track, “Passengers,”: “Too much of anything is wrong.” Too much gooey feelings are not an exception to this, mister!

Coffinberry – God Dam Dogs

Many musicphiles place heavy emphasis on the evolution of a band. A band treading water is a band boring. Cleveland’s Coffinberry, a four piece at the time God Dam Dogs was recorded, has evolved its sound in an almost horizontal manner, skipping between genres and drawing inspiration from recent music trends. EP From Now On Now extrapolated on the taut pop of turn of the century NYC, while the Sleush tape reached slightly backwards into the nineties with a lo-fi update seemingly straight from Bob Pollard’s basement. Now with God Dam Dogs, Coffinberry finally sounds most like itself, a sound that pays homage while stepping into the present and poking at the future. The Replacements and Guided By Voices can be heard here, but the arty thumps of Pere Ubu also lurk about, submerged between Mustang strings in a pool of pop.

The album, played completely by Nick and Tony Cross (guitar/vocals and drums, respectively), vacuums up life from the brotherhood bond these men share. In fact, there are songs that couldn’t exist without it, namely closer “Temperteam,” a song where you can practically hear the protests of two young rapscallions when their mother calls them in for dinner. But more than just brotherhood flies around the melodies of these songs. The crusty voices of the Cross brothers, on first listen a bit grating but quickly grown into, ride atop the music and take on many characteristics, from pathetic (the cries of “Baby” in opener “Packrat/Survivalist”) to playful (“Write This”) to punchy (“Archibald Hoyle”). While the boys may not have incredible vocal range larynx-wise, emotionally speaking, they do.

Like the voices, God Dam Dogs’s music grows on the ears, taking multiple listens to fully sink in. Once it does, certain sounds emerge that catch and reel. “Write This”’s descending chorus guitar figure, “Archibald Hoyle”’s country twang chorus lead-in, and the strained finale to “Little Child of Dementia,” do not fail to get the foot tapping or the mind buzzing. While moody live, Coffinberry sounds energized and optimistic on this release, fitting fifteen songs into forty minutes in the same way that an eight year old drops candy into his stomach on Halloween. God Dam Dogs shows a band, and songwriters, that are excited to finally put an album’s worth of material into a coherent whole, and the fruit, though not without soft spots, shuffles with that same enthusiasm.

Stealpot – Indian Salon

Poland has been on my mind a lot lately. As a student, a teacher, and a music fan, I’m experiencing Polish prominence in my recent daily life. Consider three avenues: an excellent graduate course I’m taking on Eastern European Jewish civilization through 1880; parts of a documentary filmed and edited by one of my top former students, which I recently shared with current pupils as we discussed 69 years since Kristallnacht; and an unexpected flow of contemporary Polish indie recordings into my CD collection. I won’t go into my Polish family history, but suffice to say that after exploring Jewish roots and routes on a 24-day journey through the U.S., Poland, and Israel with an amazing group of American and Israeli teenagers and colleagues in the summer of 2005, I became ever more interested in the history and current affairs of Poland.

Thus, my exposure in recent weeks to innovative Polish indie jazz, R&B, and electronic beats is just one more element in my Polish discovery. Undoubtedly, Szymon Folwarczny (aka Stealpot) has left the strongest musical impression on me this far. His second album, Indian Salon, is an intoxicating mix of vibrant sounds and luxurious singing with a multinational flair. Inducing moods and sensuality, Stealpot avoids lounge pretentiousness. Equally important, Indian Salon is a beautifully sequenced mix that takes aural risks without overwhelming the listener with instrumental bravado. The record opens with the modern, sensuous “On Time,” recalling Coldcut’s awe-inspiring rework of “Autumn Leaves.” Indian Salon’s two predominant elements, Stealpot’s trumpet and Anna Ruttar’s voice, make a glorious introduction with “On Time,” while Piotr Czyja’s drum fills also play a critical role.

Stealpot’s blend of brass, various organs and pianos, and sound samples increases in sophistication with a prominent string quartet arranged by him. The results immediately interest, avoiding any potential dissonance between attitudinal aims and aural structure. Thus, guided by Stealpot’s trumpet, the Polish-sung “Na Poludnie/Viaje al Sur” journeys from a baby crying, through subterranean beats and echoes, to almost torch song territory. Such hypnotic concoctions come up frequently throughout the album, two prime examples being the jazzy “Bassen,” evoking dusky urban drives, and “Step into Another Reality,” arguably the sexiest track here. Kasandra Adebowale’s British-accented suggestive lyrics and performance in the latter, which could have easily sounded cheesy if left in the hands of another producer, reach maximum impact, increasing listeners’ grins and throbs.

Fusing its meditative title track with the quivering beauty of “Finding Perfect Love,” Indian Salon takes a curious trip through the austere Croatian poem, “Tiho I Lako,” and the kooky “Anticlockwise,” with flute and percussion at the fore. With so many riches, it’s difficult to choose the album’s best tracks but perhaps not a surprise that the two most resonant recordings here sound nothing alike. “Jazzcore in the Rock Opera” takes 90 seconds to build up its mystery – scratches, bass, trumpet, and organic percussion all playing essential parts – and then bursts into massive James Bond climax music. Monty Norman, John Barry, David Arnold, now it’s Szymon Folwarczny’s turn. The only tie between “Jazzcore in the Rock Opera” and “Kimi No Oto” may be Stealpot’s trumpet. Junko Nashimura’s Japanese lyrics and captivating voice give “Kimi No Oto” a delicate sexual intensity that transcends linguistic barriers.

Indian Salon consistently succeeds in spurring emotions, dictating mood, and leaving indelible musical memories with its listeners. Stealpot’s stimulating experiments with instruments, samples, the human voice, and global vibes form a lounge atmosphere in which everyone is welcome. An ethnotronic masterpiece, Indian Salon exudes class and passion without end.

Arctic Monkeys – Favourite Worst Nightmare

Fresh off their successful 2006 debut, Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not, Arctic Monkeys return with the very solid, Favourite Worst Nightmare. Ultimately, it ends up being one fantastic follow-up that brims at the sides with vehement energy. Their brand of loose and meticulous rock, aggressive and serene singing and impressive musicianship is consummate.

“Brianstorm” is the fierce, intense opener that showcases the band’s ability to start and stop on a dime. Once the song ends the drums kick to start “Teddy Picker.” Although it features more of a sparkling guitar and more of a steady drum pattern as opposed to the in-your-face approach of the opener, it is still impeccably precise and utterly enjoyable.

Even potential dud, “Balaclava” is tons better than what a lot of other rock bands are putting out. Heck, the breakdown coda makes the song entirely worthwhile. Arctic Monkeys don’t just play the same type of song for the entire album and call it a day—they have so many dimensions and aspects to their music. They feature the straight-ahead material like “Teddy Picker,” sure, but they also have the growing culminating songs of “505” and “Old Yellow Bricks” and the beautifully scored, “Only Ones Who Know.”

The album is intelligently sequenced; they picked the twelve best songs and in turn, ordered them perfectly. Once the fifth song hits, “Fluorescent Adolescent,” and it’s brilliance shines all around: the drumming and guitar riff after the chorus, the syncopated guitar during the verse or maybe those poignant lyrics of “You’re not coming back again”—everything works. And it’s this kind of musical talent and prowess that happen at the right time of the album that it hits you, “Dang, this is one good album by a very good band.” And just when you think it can’t really get any better, the dreamy “Only Ones Who Know” arrives after “Fluorescent Adolescent” and rather easily, you’re flattened.

Fittingly, the next song “Do Me a Favour” begins with another great drum pattern. Sure, this one starts off nice and soft, adding more and more instruments as it goes by. However, the difference is that the Monkeys take off and explode for the last minute or so. The album goes off into the same territory from here; this is where it got the tag of being “very, very fast and very, very loud” in comparison to its predecessor. However, if the three and a half song run (from the end of “Do Me a Favour” to “The Bad Thing”) is where the album is drastically different from their debut, it surely doesn’t lose any quality.

The last two songs are where again, the sequencing is genius. “Old Yellow Bricks” effortlessly flows along while the menacing guitar lick comes in and out. There are tempo shifts, style variations and like other parts of songs on the album, a breakdown where it gets stylistically grittier. “505” begins with an organ that is said to be taken directly from Ennio Morricone’s soundtrack for The Good, the Bad and the Ugly and this particular shift in instrumentation and entirely new form is striking. Eventually the song grows into an intense climactic ending as Turner emotionally belts, “But I crumble completely when you cry.” And it’s easy to say that by the time this album ends, you’re definitely flattened.

Matthew Bayot – The Standard of Living

The Standard of Living evokes a kind of drug fueled folk feeling that is reminiscent of the RIYL bands. Not as literate as expected, but evocative in his own way, Matthew Bayot has strung together a series of tales for a late night comedown, and maybe the next day.

Stuttering along, a drum shuffle makes its way for a simple strum and the bantering of “The evidence is piling up on top of your children”. This is how “The Claims” begins the album. The song slowly burns itself to the buildup of the chorus, which is surprisingly catchy. “She is Everything” showcases Bayot’s dry, almost humorless voice, and continues the dreamy pop/folk theme that the lead track built up. Bayot’s guitar and other instrumentation is simple yet meaningful. “Still On” opens like a great lost track by the Verve, all rolling bass and feedback. Lyrics like “tiny icebergs silver and orange/climbing out of Lake Michigan” let you know the psychedelic haze encompassed on this track. On the chorus Bayot sings “And my brain’s still on” and for a moment it all works, drugs or no. “Requiem for a Scene” is next and a simple piano figure gives Bayot a place to lament the death of the party. I spend the whole track waiting for the climax and all I get is the repeated refrain of “So long, so long”. Drag! A sitar filled instrumental gives us pause and a chance to refill the bong, or take another hit, or what have you.

“Venus is Red” sounds like the rest of the album, all blurred vocals and slow burn. Not too much to complain about, but nothing to send me over the rails either. It segues into “No Big Deal”, which sounds similar and tells the tale of a crush. “Not everybody wants to be somebody they just don’t want to be alone” is a great mantra to repeat, though. “Carousel” spins around with a little more jive than we’ve heard previously on the album, but the same dreamy lyrics and the slightly undercooked instrumentation. “Blues in Three” is all acoustic guitar and sitar in the opening and varies itself slightly from the rest with its off kilter tempo, and a nice little instrumental break in the middle. “Cold White Brother” closes us out with a slight melody and a simple electric guitar – a nice touch and similar sound to the rest of the album. Of course, since we had an intermission we have to have a simple “Coda” too.

Psychedelics were never my scene, so maybe I am missing something, but all I can say about Matthew Bayot is that he has made a blurry, burned out album of simple pop/folk that is mildly pleasing and mildly exciting, but nothing to jump out at me.

Certain Stars – Wired For Sound EP

Sometimes, I get sick of the Animal Collectives the world, and just get in the mood for some good old rock and roll.

Certain Stars has made an album I can throw on in my car and just rock out to. It’s melodic pop in the vain of Big Star – very high energy, very simple, very driving and upbeat. It’s packed to the brim with crunchy guitars and chugging bass lines designed to get you dancing at a bar, or while cruising down the highway in June.

It’s a straightforward EP – each song is more or less static, sticking to one tempo and one meter for the whole duration. With the exception of some syncopation during the chorus of “Slow Down Quickly”, there is not much movement in the songs, and that really hurts the record as a whole. The lyrics are a little silly, and the vocals are pushed too high in the mix. The drums are weak, with a tinny high hat especially catching my ear. Though I want to cut Certain Stars some slack, these minor quibbles add up, and bring down an otherwise fun record.

Yes, it’s formulaic, to an extent. You have heard this record before, a thousand times I’m sure. It’s the basic rock formula that’s been used effectively since the 50s, but it’s done (mostly) right – it’s catchy, fast, and heartfelt. They have a lot of potential, if they would only get more intricate and I would definitely not mind seeing them at a bar or opening up at Bowery. Consider Wired For Sound a positive step forward for Certain Stars.

Deva – Past Present Future

A Polish recording studio owner and a group of peace-minded R&B enthusiasts walk into a bar…no this isn’t a joke. It may actually be an anecdote of how the forces behind Deva’s Past Present Future met. Released by an experimental Polish label, Deva’s debut album is a frequently delicious hodgepodge of American-accented soul and R&B with intercontinental instrumental flourishes and philosophy thrown into the mix. Past Present Future is a fresh blend of influences, not least the poetry of T.S. Eliot and Henry David Thoreau, though Deva’s own lyrical limitations leave something to be desired.

Past Present Future begins with mesmerizing Southeast Asian strings accompanied by female sighs in “Past,” but the intrigue of the opener quickly dissipates, replaced by average R&B lyrics on “Yasoda’s Perfect Love.” The song is pleasant enough to merit inclusion in a café’s sound system, but lines like “Boy I know you’ve been hurt way too many times / And I saw too many tears in your beautiful eyes / So what do you think of my helping you / I need you you you you you” are out of sync with the suggestive percussion and string arrangement. “Tension” is even kitschier, its second half consisting of a repetitious chorus that expresses the female singer’s belief that “Just like in the movies we’ll be alright / Alright.”

Deva’s strongest elements are its consistently excellent percussive loops, resonant strings, and wide-ranging female vocals. It’s not surprising that the band’s few lyrical successes consist of outside contributions. Still, the textual sources are unexpected, to say the least. Eliot’s “The Hollow Men” forms the basis of “Present,” the classic poem’s first eight lines repeated as if sung by a black female choir with a Gregorian chant in the background. Hardly sing-song fare, “Present” nonetheless boldly leaves its mark. Eliot’s words, this time from his 1934 play, The Rock, again feature prominently in another highlight from Past Present Future. “The Rock” fuses Eliot’s writing with Deva’s soul styling and gamelan strings. The song’s driving percussion and stern rap are counterbalanced by soft, beautiful female choruses.

When Deva goes deeper into hip hop, it thrives, as demonstrated in the brilliant “Shelter.” The song’s vibe and momentum are so lush you can practically smell and taste the inner city. Buoyed by an airy, vibrating beat, “Future” updates Thoreau’s “Inspiration” for the 21st century. While developing a certain optimistic attitude across its tracks, Past Present Future fuses a variety of sounds and genres, but strangely, the album’s standout song is its dramatically different unnamed hidden track. Appearing after more than four minutes of silence which follow the end of the 11th and presumed final song, the so-so “Souls Inside,” the shimmering hidden track is terrific reggae soul. Between its rhyming female lead vocals, male toasting, and gorgeous combination of syncopated beats, strings, and subtle keyboards, Deva’s hidden track features the band at peak strength.

Past Present Future requires repeated listens for greater enjoyment, and even after playing the disc several times, some of the less interesting moments will not cease to disrupt the record’s flow. As impressively as Deva uses multi-ethnic instrumentation and dominant female soul to bring the audience to a mood, the band’s occasional lyrical missteps drown out its nonverbal intentions. As a debut album, Past Present Future succeeds much of the time and should establish sufficient curiosity for further recordings.

Maps and Atlases – Tree, Swallows, House EP

The Members of Maps and Atlases met in 2004 while attending Columbia College in Chicago and still reside there although bassist Shiraz DaDa is the only one who calls it home. Vocalist and guitarist Dave Davison hails from Philadelphia, drummer Chris Hainey from Texas and guitarist Erin Elders grew up in Maui. Their debut EP Tree, Swallows, House was self-released in 2006; it soon after sold out and was re-pressed and distributed in January 2007 by Sargent House Records.

Maps and Atlases had been pumping out quality shows across the US for quite some time when they were invited to play Sub Pop’s stage at Emo’s in Austin, TX during the SXSW festival earlier this year (despite not even being signed to the label). Music blogs everywhere exploded with praise for the band and their highly enthusiastic, off the wall live performance. The flawless live shows and relentless word of mouth promotion of their dedicated fans led to Maps and Atlases becoming the best known unsigned band in the country.

This is a band that isn’t concerned with hiding how much smarter they are then you. In fact, going to a Maps and Atlases show sometimes literally feels like being taken to school. No matter what you think you know about rock and roll or music in general, you are about to learn a thing or two. Even before Tree, Swallows, House was nationally released Maps and Atlases were packing venues constantly with fans screaming the words to every song.

A lot of other reviewers have described Tree, Swallows, House as “hard to get into”, but I feel that is harsh term and could be taken the wrong way. It is true that this is definitely a record you cannot absorb fully in one listen, but isn’t that one of the classic signs of a great record? Being able to listen to it over and over again in the first few days of owning it, hearing new and different musical details each time? I recommend that every true fan of music pick up this record and give it a listen, or several.

If this is their debut EP with just 7 songs, I cannot wait to hear what these boys pump out on their first full length.

The White Stripes – Icky Thump

Remarkably consistent, utterly musical and traditionally focused, The White Stripes are certainly worthy of any of these compliments. With Icky Thump they have proven, yet again, that being musically sound in both songwriting and craftsmanship, while knowing how to exercise instrumentation is key in making a solid album in today’s day and age. And their new one is filled with a lot of the same elements that have made the Detroit duo one of the finest acts in rock and roll.

There is no shortage of great songs here; everything from the organ-infused title track, to the playful, spoken-word jam, “Rag and Bone,” to the gritty, thumping, “Little Cream Soda” — The White Stripes do it all. They even go as far as to feature bagpipes during the mini-suite of “Prickly Thorn, but Sweetly Worn” and “St. Andrews (This Battle is in the Air).”

This feat of skillful consistency, to be able to make album after album and each one still sound so good is unparalleled. Let me see if I can try to pin-point what it is. It’s Robert Plant and Jimmy Page all wrapped into one, after that add Muddy Waters, Hank Williams and Chuck Berry and that covers most of what people love about rock and roll. And you get that each and every time they release a new album.

This is a mind-blowing album because instead of just following the imprint of their erstwhile albums—which are all very good, if not totally original — they try new things. One aspect that might separate this album a bit, from the others, would the production. Meg White’s drums are considerably louder than before, especially on “300 M.P.H. Torrential Blues” and “Catch Hell Blues.” Jack White also seems a bit more obsessed with the higher end of the register of his instrument of choice (whether it’s guitar, piano, organ) and this is apparent throughout the whole album.

The aforementioned “Catch Hell Blues” with its religious references is a gem as the penultimate song. It features that loud drumming and a guitar that is as catchy and melodic as anything they have ever done. If anything, this album confirms that The White Stripes’ songs have always been built around Jack’s killer vocals and melodies.

The special moment on the album — for me at least — is the Patti Page cover of “Conquest” (originally written by Corky Robbins.) The song begins with a mariachi-style trumpet that radiantly works in the theme of the song. Word was that while the Stripes were recording this album in Nashville they found trumpet player Regulo Aldama playing on a corner and got him to come and lay down the trumpet part. He obviously nailed it and the battle featuring him and Jack’s screeching guitar is memorable, to say the least. It opens a new side to the Stripes while re-affirming another: that they can take covers and turn them into something that is solely theirs. Genuine evidence of true, talented musicians at work and although it’s a bit more evident here, the magic happens throughout the entire album.

« Previous Page — Next Page »