The Yarrows – Plum

Put your headphones on for this one. The Yarrows are soft rock from New Jersey, but unlike a lot of other bands from Jersey that happen to be on Drive-Thru Records, this band keeps a tight restraint on its emotions. The result is a tiny, thoughtful record that is teeters on the edge of something magical.

The Yarrows are at its best when they are slow and meandering, toying with gusty cymbal swells and dour melodies. Songs like “You’re Cruel”, a whispery, neo-country ballad, “Queen Of The Air”, a swirly, wounded, track with guitars that dangle above gentle piano chords, and “Diamonds”, a rainy, tinny track that evolves into a powerful crescendo and a nasty, razor sharp guitar lick near the end.

When The Yarrows stray and try to write louder, more vocally driven, they falter. “May” and “Perfect Mouth” are plagued with dragging, mopey vocals. These songs, unlike most other tracks, don’t build to anything, and linger on unwelcome.

But in the end, there is more good than bad here. “The Impossible One” and “Cellophane” are grand, marching tracks that rock with just the right touch of sensitivity and poise. Each track is a smooth, seamless transition into the next, and for the most part, the pacing is spot on. It’s a nice record, and a solid second half makes up for some weak, whiny tracks.

num9 – The Glow-worm’s Resistance

The moodiness and obscure sentiments explored through occasionally dissonant songs on so many recordings released by Acuarela make many of the Spanish indie label’s discs difficult to remember on first listen, but they also prompt frequent revisits. Call it emotional curiosity or human connection at its simplest level, but Acuarela releases come with a particular magnetism. The Glow-worm’s Resistance, Coque Yturriaga’s debut album under his solo project’s name, num9, carries with it the beautiful weirdness we’ve come to expect from Acuarela, at times threatening to cross the fine line between fascinating new directions and dull experimentalism but consistently staying on the side of taste and appeal.

Yturriaga composed, recorded, mixed, produced, and mastered The Glow-worm’s Resistance at home following the break-up of one of his bands, Migala. He put another band, Emak Bakia, on the backburner, and commenced knob-flicking and tone tweaking for his introduction as num9. The album opens with “Perfect,” a moody relationship reflection with rich instrumental texture. With his thick accent and limited vocal inflection, Yturriaga gives us his take on love: “You say it’s perfect / But our love has an end / You say it’s winter / But all I see is darkness / Grey is your colour / I can’t wait for summer / I don’t need this spring / And its yellows and its greens / Let me tell you, babe / Black and white is ok / White for your hope and black for disaster.” Subsequent tracks, notably “The Travel Magazine” and “A Foreign City,” mix syncopated beats and looping rhythms with pointed lyrics of love and longing.

The Glow-worm’s Resistance has instrumental references to Four Tet and early New Order sprinkled throughout its 10 songs. “Poema de la Resistencia” and “The Glow-worm’s Death” both recall Kieran Hebden’s work, while “The Dream” sounds as if Hebden wrote most of the song, with Bernard Sumner and his mates contributing the repeated lines, “I love you so much / I love you so deeply / The trembling stars / That you bet your money / It comes to be my business / It is my business,” and the keyboard bridge which follows.

The Glow-worm’s Resistance is hard to digest on first listen, but in some ways, experiencing this album is like appreciating its third track “Stars.” The song’s introductory metallic quivers and echo effects soon give way to simulated sounds of dawn and a deliberate, moving story nostalgically delivered by Yturriaga with fitting sensitivity. The multilayered synthesizers which set up and direct “Stars” are measured to maximum effect, clearly marking “Stars” as the album’s best track. The Glow-worm’s Resistance may seem colder than intended during its first few plays, but it is an album with warmth and the occasional universal message, delivered in the peculiar, stream-of-consciousness manner that has contributed to much of Yturriaga’s work thus far.

Burial – Untrue

A great deal of the fascination that trails Burial’s music is caused by the London producer’s own determined anonymity. Knowing so little about an artist—and in this case, a dubstep producer—entices the listener to closely study their music. His self-titled debut was an acclaimed success and yet, Burial maintains that only five people even know that he makes music.

Burial began to work on Untrue following a brief hiatus after the triumph of his debut. Judging by the responses found in his scarce interviews (how can anyone interview him anyways?) he doesn’t appear to embrace the idea of success too much. And though he claims that his music is only intended for a select few that truly understand what he is trying to accomplish, it’s too alluring to ignore. With Untrue, he has managed to craft an even better and more evocative listen than its predecessor.

The beauty of this album is that from the gorgeous “Archangel” to the majestic “Raver,” everything in between is lush and exceptional. It’s as if Burial has chosen to invite you into his enigmatic and guarded life through his music. And this is supported by every single sound here; trough every crack, echo, spectral vocal layering, to the top-notch samples, everything on this album speaks of isolation and seclusion.

The high points are continuous and never-ending; something as gloomy and still melodic as “Ghost Hardware” is significant. “Etched Headplate” starts with some spoken words before it’s taken over by an effervescent bassline and what appears to be hand claps. “Shell of Light” starts with a simple drum beat before layers and layers of resonance are added to create a blissfully dulcet song. Once you get to the poignant closer—embedded with probably the best drumbeat on the entire album—you feel privileged for being allowed a glimpse within Burial’s life.

The aforementioned “Archangel” is a clear stand out and depressing lyrics, “Kissing you, tell me I belong, tell me I belong” merely enhance its general brooding impression. The strings sound like glorious angels swooping in and out off the sky and the way that Burial tightly wounds everything is genius. The cry comes in at just the right time, the drums fade at the perfect spot and re-enter seamlessly; the whole song is poetic in its lyrics.

There are countless moments like this, as each song is cut of the same cloth as “Archangel.” The songs sound as if Burial intended to portray that hum you can still hear after a night in the club. That faded, blurry sound that’s meshed in with voices and atmospheric sounds. Through every snap, fuzzed coating, scratch, drum kick and vocal melody, this is one painstakingly comprehensive listen.

This is an album meant to be heard on headphones, in your room alone, or as you drive home—as long as its personal, solitary and intimate. Even as someone who knows very little about electronic music, this album is affecting. You will never get the urge to skip a song and you will desire and covet every sound that’s emitted from this album because they make up one tremendous, collective entity in Untrue.

Sankt Otten – Wunder Gibt Es Immer Wieder

As a designer, I understand and appreciate the use of white space. This might be the white of paper in print or the blank, unbuilt areas of a place. Space helps provide balance to whatever medium you are working in, whether it’s creating physical space or even emotional or mental space. The key though, is to find that perfect balance between space and art and it is this harmony that is so difficult to achieve.

The German duo, Sankt Otten, doesn’t create music but rather emotional art of the electronic noir sort. “Taschensymphonie” creeps into the air like a rising sun, opening the scene. Full of wondrous distortion and multiple layers, the notes call to you like a glimmer over the hillside. It beckons you, heightening your curiosity, to continue your journey forward. It is the opening credits and the introduction. The title track follows and builds upon the base layers with a beat, keyboards and guitar that wrap around like a warm, fuzzy blanket fresh out of the dryer. You see the glimmer and you are filled with happiness and joy but you don’t fully understand why. It doesn’t matter.

Silence falls and a few simple piano chords echo through the distance. The light is beginning to fade, but not completely. Something is happening but only your own thoughts can fill in the blanks here. This is your own personal journey to wherever it is that you are trying to go.

“Der Broover Des Guten Gewissens” is filled with electronic strings and plinking piano notes. Obstacles are beginning to reveal themselves. Even with the simplicity of the song, there are wonderful details like how the music stops about a minute and a half in and leaves an open space for a few simple piano strokes as if at an impasse. “Auf Suende Folgt Strafe” is fit for those winter days when the light sits somewhere between night and day, where a kind indescribable gray hangs in the sky. A brushed beat pushes the song forward while layers of guitar hover around, pierced only by a few piano chords and stray notes that create a distinct uneasiness. While the energy remains low, the beat pushes forward, providing a sense of fear like hiding from something while simultaneously trying to get away.

One of my favorite tracks, aside from the shining title track, is one that is almost the exact opposite. “Depressive Elite” opens with the sound of sensual base notes that take on the storyline. Later a few keyboard notes are followed by a jittery guitar. You’re tired and weary from at this point, beginning to lose hope. This song borders on blues and reminds me of my favorite bands in this genre, Grails, who are masters in the art of creating emotional journeys through sound. It is so simple, just a few notes and yet it conjures up amazing visions. Here is some of that balance I was talking about earlier. So simple and yet so amazingly powerful.

After the long journey, you reach the glimmer. “Stille Wasser” has that feeling of contentment that, through all of the heartbreak and things put in your path to throw you off course, you have managed to reach your goal. The light is shining again and you are happy.

Sankt Otten has indeed performed a wondrous feat in finding that point in which simplicity equals beauty and the harmony between music and space has found the perfect balance. It’s like standing in front of a piece of art that is so captivating and yet so simple that you can’t look away. It’s mesmerizing, beautiful and yet dark and desperate at the same time. The latest album from Sankt Otten, Wunden Gibt Es Immer Wieder is the soundtrack to your thoughts, packed full of dramatic sequences and riveting sensory visions. This is one of the best albums I’ve heard this year that, unfortunately, came to my attention too late to be included in my top 10 list this year.

Feu Thérèse – Ça Va Cogner

The title tells “It’s Gonna Hit,” but you never quite get the feeling that the music on Ça Va Cogner really does. The record, Feu Thérèse’s second (and final), is purposefully ambiguous, never quite providing a clear look as to what the group are attempting to express. It’s a work divorced not only from their lineage (last year’s self-titled and the corpus of Fly Pan Am, from whose dissolution Feu Thérèse formed) but also from their contemporaries; whereas it’s popular nowadays to cherry-pick aural expressions from entities of the electro past, Ça Va Cogner is entrenched wholly in them, with synthesizers and arpeggiators prominent throughout the mix. Who would’ve expected disco from a Constellation group?

So, why doesn’t it “hit”? At times, it’s difficult to tell if they’re laboring to reconfigure the past by evoking it so exhaustively, or, through the juxtaposition with current elements (for example, the atmospheric guitar work in “Visage Sous Nylon” and “Les Enfants” calls to mind many of their post-rockin’ labelmates), to do so to the present. Ça Va Cogner is unabashedly synthetic, but it’s also remarkably self-aware.

A prime instance of this self-awareness is to be found in the plodding “Le Bruit Du Pollen La Nuit” when the music cuts out to accommodate heavy, French spoken-word à la Serge Gainsbourg. It sounds contrived as all hell, and after hearing it one becomes mindful of how conscious Feu Thérèse are of their own kitsch. This isn’t an homage nor an accidental pastiche – this is alert irreverence with a shrug of the shoulders to the importance of past acts and a middle finger to contemporary artists that so willingly barricade themselves in with synthetic musical gestures. They may as well come out and say, “We know how bogus this all sounds, so why don’t you?”

The band tempts one to dance – and it’s difficult not to at times, especially when tracks like the neo-disco “Nada” basically transport one to the dance floor – and then the detached, precise arrangements sit back and judge as you make your decision. What tension! Fall for the idealistic, fake atmosphere of the album and let your body loose, or entertain your mental faculties and join the group in reappraisal of the past? To dance, or not to dance…

Even without all the mental exercise, Ça Va Cogner is still a propulsive, transporting listen. They’ve created their own little world with its own very peculiar atmosphere, and all-in-all it’s an entertaining experience.

Blitzen Trapper – Wild Mountain Nation

Blitzen Trapper is unquestionably a band we can label as “experimental” and their new album, Wild Mountain Nation features practically every brand of rock underneath the sun. It’s a refreshing take on rock and roll and everything that this great style of music has to offer; it’s never derivative or overdone but rather, interesting and smoothly impressive.

The romping, grinding “Miss Spiritual Tramp” is probably the most extreme thing on here. The guitars slash and bite with an intense force, the drums are on top of the mix and the guitar at the end is pure joy. This is followed by the unique and dexterous, “Woof & Warp of the Quiet Giant’s Hem.” It’s mostly an instrumental track that puts the guitar and keyboards at the front, while the drums pound away behind it. The only vocals are supplied by the band and they are only yelps of “yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah…” And these aren’t bad songs either, after the great trio of songs that open the album; some would call the two aforementioned tunes, throwaways. But for me at least, they are invigorating kicks of life. The band purposely combines the harder moments in rock music for further emphasis.

Like I mentioned earlier, everything is covered on here. The album is produced in a lo-fi manner but this doesn’t take anything away from the music. There is the country, bluegrass feel of “Wild Mtn. Jam,” the edgy punk rock of “Devil’s A-Go-Go,” the dream-like hard rock of “Wild Mountain Nation” and the light, easy rock of “Futures & Folly” complete with its pleasant piano flourishes, vocal harmonies and Oriental touches.

One of the true highlights is “Sci-Fi Kid” which follows more of a form than the other songs on here. The sounds are reminiscent of space travel and the music is laid-back and easy-going. The smart instrumental breakdown towards the end of the song is fitting with its synthesized hooks and high-pitched vocals.

Another high spot is the psychedelic trance that is “Hot Tip/Tough Cub.” There is a lot of reverb and the vocals get lost in the hazy, slamming instrumentation. Some sections feature off the wall sounds that are nice effects before it jumps back in with a hard, edgy beat. The song ends with a flurry of noises that resemble the sound of blurry feedback from your speakers. Right after this, “The Green King Signs” is another song in the same vein of the opener, its straight-ahead rock that isn’t too precise but sill chugs right along.

The ballad on here is “Summer Town” and it’s sequenced ingeniously because of its suggestive lyrics of “I only wanted to be used and not misplaced.” The guitars are unplugged, a flute and harmonica appear and the drums are completely absent for most of the song. It’s a nice touch because the band showcases their softer side. “Murder Babe” arrives with some more hard rock and the penultimate song, “Country Caravan” hits the 70s-rock style well. It’s a great bluesy stomp that illustrates the band’s ability to nicely layer their voices. The last song, “Badger’s Black Brigade” ends the album with some muddy production and a slow-jam approach.

Everything on this album is pretty magnificent. What Blitzen Trapper accomplished is no small task—they never allowed the quality to suffer and this is certainly a “wild” listen. A lot of it is influenced by some of the greatest rock minds of all time but it’s never unoriginal nor boring. Wild Mountain Nation keeps you on the edge of your seat the entire time and it’s a fine piece of music.

The Umbrella Sequence – Events

Sounding like something between Arcade Fire and Green Pajamas, The Umbrella Sequence has put nine of its latest works into Events for popular consumption. These indie-pop orchestrations fall into very familiar territory, so those who gravitate towards this kind of thing can make a new friend in this band.

Some of the songs seem to grow out of a fondness for Beatles psychedelia, as on the somber “This Time We’re Positive.” Others tend toward the celebratory, as on “Urban Lull.” This track, which kicks off the album, has a dance-ready rhythm to counteract the mellow vocals and lulling keyboards, almost like Beck. On this and other tracks, the vocals most peg the band as pop.

Sometimes, the pop gives way to rousing indie rock. “Et Tu Forte?” races forward like Bloc Party, a blueprint further reinforced by the insistent guitar line. “Elephant” uses the same formula; its pacing, its mid-song buildup, and its reliance on driving guitar lend it an Interpol aspect.

The energy-driven songs spend less time building a mood than do the more evenly paced ones. On “Life Events and Sinking Ships,” the band combines Thom Yorke’s delivery with an epic sounding bridge and chorus, where keyboards do as much for the sound as the guitars do. As with “The Need To Make Lists” and “Purple Roads,” The Umbrella Sequence seems to be aiming for the slipstream behind Beulah’s Heartstrings. That’s a fine place to be if you can pull it off, and The Umbrella Sequence are very close to that mark.

Ilad – National Flags

Ilad’s four members don’t really like to tell you much about themselves, despite having a blog on the band website. So without much background info, we’re left with the music itself, and that’s really what a review should focus on. The only problem is, when the music puts you to sleep, it’s hard to write about.

First, let me say that Ilad is an extremely talented band. And National Flags is a very well-produced album (recorded and mixed by Toirtoise’s John McEntire). My problem with National Flags is that, in essence, it feels like a jam band. This jazzy, esoteric band has some brilliant moments, but when these mostly five- to six-minute songs flow and meander along, I can’t help but think “jam band,” and my mind wants to shut off.

The five-minute nearly ambient “Preamble” is 4:30 too long. But it leads into the nice “D.O.I.,” which I swear keeps my attention for at least the first three minutes. I’ve lost attention by the end, though, and the horribly slow, quiet, airy “National Flags” does nothing to win it back. Three songs in, and this is where I typically stop listening, but for the sake of reviewing, I’ve forced myself to go on.

I’m rewarded nearly 3:30 into the title track with a wonderful up-tempo beat and some light keyboards that remind me of Tortoise for more than just McEntire’s hand at the boards. But it goes on and on, and “Someday” starts off so somber and mellow that I’m lost again. And as long as I wait, that song goes nowhere. I’m rewarded for persevering by the jazzy chaos of “Babel” that works so well because of its inherent chaos. It doesn’t go on for five minutes, thankfully, and “Looking Glass,” which follows, is the most up-beat and poppy track yet, even if the guitar reminds me of the jam band: Phish. I’m skipping over “You Don’t Need That Shit,” because I like some moments of “Subway’d,” I think because of the bassline, because this track is too slow and too long. “Holy Wars” is upbeat again, jazzy and flowing nicely, which works better for this band, and it’s only four minutes. I have yet to make it through the 10-minute album closer, “Preamble (Alt.),” but seeing as how I often don’t even make it through the album-opening “Preamble,” the fact that I’m here at all is quite a feat!

Maybe my problem with National Flags is that I don’t know how to describe it. I think of it as jazzy prog-rock. But at times, it’s nearly ambient, and maybe it succeeds on that level. At other times, it’s quiet poppy, but if you come in expecting that, you’re sure to be disappointed. There’s not enough changes, not enough emphasis to keep me listening through six-minute jammy songs, despite the moments of excellence. I’m sure some folks will love this album, but I can’t get beyond the feeling that this is just a talented jam band.

One Starving Day – Broken Wings Lead Arms to the Sun

One Starving Day is a band from Italy. Not many bands come from Italy that sound like One Starving Day – and though they are probably the first of their kind, I would recommend that future like-minded bands take note because what we have here is a mixed bag.

Certainly the ambition of Broken Wings Lead Arms to the Sun is wholly apparent. Their post-rock and slow, brooding hardcore is easily accessible to fans of bands like Isis, but Isis are much more focused than the stuff heard here. Like I said, its ambitious, but maybe a little too ambitious. The song “Secret Heart” could have been cut much shorter and still accomplished what it was trying to accomplish. At times it seems like they are making noise for the sake of making noise.

“Black Star Aeon” and “Fate Drainer” are my two favorite songs on the record, but they still fall slightly short of greatness. The vocals on “Black Star…” are not my cup of tea and the transitions from soft and brooding to hard and chaotic could use some polishing. Though I enjoyed “Fate Drainer”, at times, such as when we hear spoken word in the background, it sounds as if they are trying too hard to be aesthetically abstract and modern. By the time they hit the synthesized portion, it’s a little awkward.

The screams in “Leave” to me sound way too forced and the slow part that accompanies it feels a little too stretched for its own good. Its almost as if the band does want us to feel the pain, instead it comes off as awkward. And finally, was “Silver Star Domain” really necessary? The parts just didn’t come together all that well on this one and it could have easily been left off of the album.

Broken Wings… isn’t a total bust. There are some enjoyable parts and I do dig the style (I’ve been listening to a lot of similar sounding bands lately) but, with a little tightening up in sections, these Italians are definitely on to something.

Sons of Azrael – The Conjuration of Vengeance

Buffalo, NY’s Sons of Azrael play a punishing brand of melodic death metal laced with elements of metalcore, thrash, black metal, etc. Overall it is a pretty extreme sound the band is going for with over-the-top screaming vocals, blast beats, and all. All the necessities for a decent album are here, but does The Conjuration of Vengeance deliver?

Meh, not really. First of all, this sounds an awful lot like Job For A Cowboy playing Black Dahlia Murder covers. It is a perfect example of young American kids aping the old Gothenberg sound and mixing it with the sense of energy and breakdowns of American hardcore. At this stage in the game, this style has been done so many times that it has to be executed perfectly with a considerable flair for unique songwriting to be remotely interesting. Sons of Azrael, while a talented group, really aren’t bringing anything new to the table here and don’t have the songwriting chops overcome their lack of originality.

Aside from stealing basically every riff on the album, Sons of Azrael appear to be quite a talented band. The drumming gets a bit too wild and scattershot from time to time, but the overall speed and intensity the drums provide is very effective. The riffing is a bit all over the place also with the majority of the material herein falling somewhere in melodic death territory. There are plenty of breakdowns for the tight-pants ninjas, some thrashy riffing and solos, and some impressively technical moments as well.

On the whole, The Conjuration of Vengeance is a pretty solid debut. These dudes can definitely play their instruments and are adequately heavy, but in the future it would be nice to see them break out and try their hand at something a little more challenging and unique.

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