The Delta Fiasco – Death Letters

Since hearing that The Delto Fiasco has bagged a support slot with the fantastic Ladytron (tomorrow night, I believe), I was expecting great things from this Liverpool based trio Simon Hilton (drums), Nathan Walczak (vocals, guitar, synthesisers) and Nicolas Bentley (guitar, synths, laptops and programming). To be fair “Death Letters” doesn’t disappoint; it’s a great track full of intensity and catchy hooks that you can’t help but want to dance to.

Apparently these guys are thought of as Liverpool’s ‘most intense live act’ and from the sound of this track I can believe it. Starting off with echoey guitar sounds and a fairly middle-of-the-road drum beat, things don’t kick off until the synths come in with a fantastic undulating disco inspired hook. This hook is repeated frequently and is, in large part, responsible for the catchiness of the song.

Walczak’s vocals don’t, at first, appear to be anything to write home about, but the more the song goes on the better and more fitting the vocals seem and he manages to put across the overall energy of the song well. The bridging section with the creepy refrain of ‘she’ll write death letters, saying what she’s gonna do to me’ leads the song to a fantastic close, with plenty of messed-up, overdriven guitar sounds layered over the synchronised electronic noise.

It’s hard, given the fairly creepy lyrical content of the song mixed with the danceable intensity of the music, not to make comparisons to Ladytron when listening to this. The Delta Fiasco are exploring the same territory here, with a song that makes you want to move but also makes you feel distinctly uncomfortable at the same time – something Ladytron are masterful at. Of course, Walczak’s vocals are not in any way similar to Helen Marnie’s breathy, sweet tones but his powerful and wonderfully articulated, sincere vocals have the same impact when you actually stop and listen to what he’s saying.

Walczak himself admits that, “Each night is a moment, to catch just one person in the crowd thinking, ‘what the fuck is happening?’” This sums up what I’m trying to say perfectly; if you can stop yourself getting swept away by the catchy hooks for a moment and listen to the lyrics you’ll find a much darker message, which is something they have in common with Ladytron. Can’t wait to hear more!

The Submarines – Honeysuckle Weeks

It’s not hard to believe that The Submarines, the amorous duo of John Dragonetti and Blake Hazard, hail from sunny, Southern California. Their sophomore album, Honeysuckle Weeks, contains 10 tracks of smart indie-rock coated with light and airy synth-based melodies over polished bass lines and breezy guitar strums that are well suited for a drive to the beach with the windows down and the volume up.

The vocals take center stage on most tracks and revolve around Hazard’s silky, honey-toned voice that draws similarities to the sultry tones of The Delgados’ Emma Pollock and the cheeky cooing of Lily Allen. Dragonetti occasionally adds complimentary banter for some good-natured boy/girl interplay. The multi-textured vocals are both soothing and captivating and do not so much conform to the music but rather help effectuate the mood.

The music itself is not only sunny and bright, but rich and full with strains of 80′s rock running through the melodic and catchy electro-pop. Sparkling guitar lines, subtle electronic effects, chimes and bells are added in charming style throughout. “You Me and the Bourgeoise” has a little sharper edge thanks to a Clash-inspired beat and electric guitars, while “The Wake Up Song” uses a New Order-like bass riff to bolster the shimmering pop and “Swimming Pool” includes a sprightly chorus reminiscent of the Tom Tom Club. A few tracks mirror the creative and playful indie-rock sounds of Stars and The Shins, but the sonic thriller comes in “1940″, a darker, dub-style reggae-influenced tune that is slick and cool and a unique twist which also appears in lighter form later in the track list on “Fern Beard”.

Listening to Honeysuckle Weeks is like browsing through a musical variety store whose shelves are stocked with playful, shiny and creative indie-pop. A frothy sheen adorns the keen songwriting as The Submarines glide smoothly through various styles that are always easy on the ears, thanks not only to The Submarines’ ability to craft pleasing pop tunes, but to the smooth vocals, ultimately resulting in a pleasurable musical experience.

God and Country – Molloch

God and Country may have started as a hardcore-type band, but now the band seems to have situated itself near to the Neurosis or Isis side of the spectrum. There isn’t a whole lot on Molloch that you haven’t heard before, and some of the influences weigh heavier than do others.

There’s some Mars Volta seeping into tracks like “The Future is History” and “The Bad News.” Actually maybe it’s as much At The Drive-In as it is anything else, or at least that seems to be the main influence on the singing. “And Where You Are” never lets the rock aesthetic escape its chains, though, and it shows that the band can make restraint into songcraft if it wants to.

More typical of the songs is “Last Rites.” It has the soaring rock chorus and the thick guitar chords characteristic of the post-emo bands you may have already tired of. There’s a strain of politics, passion, and anger on Molloch. Lines line “This life will be the death of us” (on “Strong Crosses”) might have more heft were it accompanied by less well-trod lyrical terrain or if it were penned by, say, Mark Kozelek. Here, it comes across as a little self-conscious.

The musicianship and production both show professionalism. It’s not that the band isn’t good, it’s just that it begs the question of whether we need yet another band making songs that sound interchangeable with their predecessors.

Flipsides & Otherwise: FAO #7

Although the current flood of ‘expanded’, ‘deluxe’ and ‘collector’s edition’ album reissues can be viewed as a concerted act of desperation by the music industry in the face of falling CD sales, it’s still a positive thing such releases that many are putting right was so wrong with many earlier CD pressings from the ‘80s and ‘90s. With higher-quality artwork, remastered sound, fan-friendly extra tracks and the like, many latter-day CD reprints have both breathed life into the unfairly-maligned format and into historically-important records. 2008 sees no abatement in the repacking trend – particularly for DOA-endorsed sonic brands – hence the need to round-up a bundle of them in one grab-bag edition of this column (along with one relevant new album), before the next dollop drops on to the buckling shelves of 30+ year old music hoarders…

 

 

The Replacements - Sorry Ma, Forgot To Take Out The Trash / Stink / Hootenanny / Let It Be (Rhino)

Although put out on CD via Rykodisc/Restless Records as recently as 2003, now both labels have been annexed by the Warners empire, it gives a chance for The Replacements’ early-Twin/Tone canon to be given a more expansive and superior refreshment from the well-respected back catalogue curators at Rhino. The restorative results are unquestionably impressive, although the onetime Minneapolis outfit’s contrary quality control hasn’t been tampered with one iota – which would of course have defeated the object.

1981’s Sorry Ma, Forgot To Take Out The Trash debut is still as blisteringly raw and as liquor-laced as before, with its juvenile rockabilly ‘n’ roll swollen from 18 to 31 tracks, making it a purist’s wet-dream as well as scarecrow to easily-intimidated novices. Either way, split-flecked gems like “Takin A Ride” and “Customer” are essential to The Replacements story, as is the rediscovered rustic B-side “If Only You Were Lonely.” 1982’s strychnine-charged 8-song Stink perhaps benefits the most from its new edition. Previously it felt like an almost quaint homage to the nascent contemporaneous hardcore scene led by Black Flag and Hüsker Dü, but now it sounds like a harder sarcastic Americana take on the bubble-gum Britpunk of The Buzzcocks and The Sex Pistols, with Paul Westerberg adopting a throat-shredding rasp informed by Johnny Rotten at his most snot-drenched and splenetic. Top-draw new extras include a snarling fun stab at Hank Williams’ “Hey Good Lookin’” and a heartily-disrespectful wrecking of “(We’re Gonna) Rock Around The Clock.”

1983’s Hootenanny captured The Replacements’ musical ambition-levels ratcheted-up tenfold for a transitory set that maintained the wilfully adolescent abandonment whilst reaching into slightly more refined and experimental territory. No longer wedded to just one-chord hollering, Hootenanny is gleefully eclectic, if a little hit and miss. Therefore within you’ll find the anthemic classicism of “Color Me Impressed,” the thrilling cow-punk of “Take Me Down To The Hospital,” the eerie atmospheric “Willpower” and the weirdly endearing dark electro-pop of “Within Your Reach” but also the grating sub-Red Chilli Peppers funk of “Lovelines” and the scratchy Beggars Banquet-era Stones pastiche that is “Treatment Bound.” The supplementary cuts are decidedly scrappy, aside from Westerberg’s solo “Bad Worker” demo and a much more believable rendering of “Treatment Bound.” Without much doubt, 1984’s Let It Be was The Replacements’ defining moment before the major-label chequebook triggered through the band’s slow disintegration. All the seminal standards still resonate with the powerful pain of growing-up in a backwards town; from The Smithsian jangle of “I Will Dare,” and the soaring “Favorite Thing,” to the yearning folk-rock of “Unsatisfied” and “Sixteen Blue.” There remains some foolhardy filler – like “Gary’s Got A Boner” and “Tommy Gets His Tonsils Out” – but they’re offset by the playful tenderness of “Androgynous” and the sparse grittiness of “Answering Machine.” The freshly-appended outtakes add little to the might of Let It Be itself, but a throwaway go at T Rex’s “20th Century Boy” raises a smile along with the previously unheard self-penned “Perfectly Lethal.” Until the Sire-era catalogue reappears via Rhino later this year, these four re-embodied Replacements records serve both devotees and late-comers with authoritative open-handed aplomb.

Visit: www.rhino.com

 

Mudhoney - Superfuzz Bigmuff [deluxe edition] / The Lucky Ones (Sub Pop)

Despite the treasure-trove of mini-albums in the indie-rock pantheon – like the Pixies’ Come On Pilgrim, Throwing Muses’ The Fat Skier and Eleventh Dream Day’s eponymous debut six-tracker – it’s doubtful that many could justify being expanded to such a gloriously over-long 2CD like Mudhoney’s new-revision of Superfuzz Bigmuff. Given that the Mark Arm’s quartet have long since forsaken any attempts to step away from the shadow of the six-track opening salvo and its sibling singles, fully-upgrading Superfuzz makes almost perfect sense, especially in Sub Pop’s twentieth anniversary year. The throbbing rhythm section of drummer Dan Peters and erstwhile bassist Matt Lukin and never sounded so tight as well as loose, Steve Turner’s searing riffs never felt so influential again and Arm’s Ozzy-meets-Iggy snarl has never been so convincing since. Pretty much all the Mudhoney you could even need is here; notably the terrific pogo-inciting proto-grunge classic “Touch Me I’m Sick,” the white-knuckle ride of “In ‘n’ Out Of Grace,” The Black Sabbath-like sludge of “Mudride,” a smouldering seductive cover of Sonic Youth’s “Halloween” and the sleazy “Sweet Young Thing Ain’t Sweet No More.” Aside from the main studio recordings, a heavy splattering of raw primordial demos and live tracks may add more than you possibly need to know, but as self-indulgent celebrations go this wins on the pure force of its comprehensiveness. The simultaneously-released new Mudhoney long-player - The Lucky Ones - obviously can’t compete in comparison but it hasn’t stopped the Arm and co. from trying with age-defying gusto. Cut in 3 or so days with Laura Veirs/Decemberists-producer Tucker Martine, The Lucky Ones has its fair share of sprightly moments – like the early-Stooges pounding of “I’m Now” and sing-along funky stomp of “What’s This Thing?” – amidst more formulaic garage-rock fare.

Visit: www.subpop.com

 

Sebadoh - Bubble And Scrape [deluxe edition] (Domino)

Whilst many of us less die-hard Sebadoh followers impatiently wait for the deluxe treatment of the band’s mother lode moment – 1994’s Bakesale - here comes a fleshed-out reheating of 1993’s Bubble And Scrape to bridge the gap between the messy early lo-fi years and the more enduring mid-period melodicism. Therefore, Bubble And Scrape has a unmistakeably restless and schizophrenic personality; with Lou Barlow considerably sharpening his melodic edge, Jason Loewenstein asserting himself more as a songwriter and the soon-to-leave Eric Gaffney dropping-in mind-boggling no-fidelity freak-outs. Consequently, Barlow’s wares shines brighter than before; with the beatific balladry of the seminal Sebadoh single “Soul And Fire”, the aching Bakesale-style chug-rock of “Two Years Two Days,” and the plaintive unplugged “Think (Let Tomorrow Bee).” Loewenstein paved the way for his future star turns on Bakesale and 1999’s The Sebadoh through the rustic dirge of “Happily Divided” and the stinging “Sister,” although he blows things somewhat with the ear-bleeding “Flood.” Gaffney’s contributions vary from the inspired racket of “Emma Get Wild” and The Minuteman-aping “No Way Out” to the almost-unlistenable “Bouquet For A Siren” and the demented “Telecosmic Alchemy.” The newly bolted-on attachments are equally beguiling and baffling; from a gorgeous acoustic demo of “Soul And Fire,” via a compelling coruscating cover of The Necros’ “Reject” and on to the dreadful hardcore bludgeoning of “Visibly Wasted II.” Like preceding Sebadoh reissues of Sebadoh III and The Freed Man this is a truly warts ‘n’ all affair, which is a rewarding blessing and a challenging curse in equal measures.

Visit: www.domincorecordco.com

 

Mogwai - Mogwai Young Team [deluxe edition] (Chemikal Underground)

Like Mudhoney, Mogwai’s career has long been dwarfed by a first album that defined ensuing proceedings rather too early and too precisely. But unlike Mudhoney, Mogwai’s creative inertia since the originally release of Mogwai Young Team in 1997 is more down to laurel-resting arrogance and the distractions of self-made controversies (like launching the “Blur: are shite” T-shirt range) than copycat usurping and the grunge-bubble bursting. Consequently, we do need a reminder of what made Mogwai appear so damn special to be begin with; which is where this extended version of Mogwai Young Team comes in. Although the Glasgow-dwelling group has been ripped-off ad infinitum over the last ten or so years, it’s crucial to remember how refreshing and well-crafted the calculated amalgam of the Stuart Braithwaite and compadres’ influences coalesced into a satisfying and diverse collection of largely wordless pieces. The quiet/VERY LOUD-lurch of “Like Herod” still sounds more terrifying than Sonic Youth’s most discordant moments; the dreamy drifting of The Durutti Column-indebted “Tracy” continues to hold spine-tingling magic; the elegiac piano-led “A Cheery Wave From Stranded Youngsters” and “Radar Maker” boast a subtly that’s been lost in more recent Mogwai wares; the spoken-word guest spot from Arab Strap’s Aidan Moffat on “R U Still Into It” dispels accusations of aloofness with warming naked-humanity; the layered-discordance of the My Bloody Valentine vs. Slint “Katrien” opened-up a subliminal transatlantic sonic worm-hole; and the epic majesty of “Mogwai Fear Satan” is post-rock at its most melodic, evocative and transcendental. The second disc of miscellaneous period matter, complements rather competes with the main event, with highlights including the previously unreleased “Young Face Gone Wrong,” the prowling percussive “I Can’t Remember,” a predictable but pretty cover of Spacemen 3’s “Honey,” and breathtaking louder-than-bombs live incarnations of “Katrien” and “Mogwai Fear Satan.” You can now confidently cast aside much of what Mogwai have released since – bar the likes of 1999’s succinctly-titled EP and 2006’s Zidane soundtrack – and bury your ears in the chore-less otherworldly enchantment of the reinvigorated Mogwai Young Team.

Visit: www.mogwai.co.uk

Death Cab for Cutie – Narrow Stairs

With 2003’s Transatlanticism and 2005’s Plans, Death Cab for Cutie created something remarkable; near perfection. Literally every song on these albums is phenomenal, cementing the group as one of the top acts in modern pop/rock. Naturally, the follow-up, Narrow Stairs, has some heavy expectations to satisfy and, while it doesn’t meet the mark, it’s a very good album on its own, showcasing some surprising sounds and techniques.

Once again taking the helm as producer is guitarist Chris Walla, who called the album “really weird” and “a total curveball.” He added “…it’s gonna be a really polarizing record.” Indeed Narrow Stairs does split the listener into judging from two perspectives: the record on its own and how it compares to previous outings. On its own, it’s a solid release from the Washington-based visionaries. However, it lacks the extremely strong melodies and lush accompaniment of their last releases.

“Bixby Canyon Bridge” opens the LP softly and gradually builds to a heavy conclusion. It’s a nostalgic piece stating that “you just can’t see your dream.” “I Will Possess Your Heart” is the album’s single, told from the perspective of a stalker. For about four and a half minutes, the track is just a jam. It’s a bit slow on the way and once it reaches the vocals, it doesn’t really get any more interesting. The most intriguing part is the bridge (which ends just as it enters our memory). “No Sunlight” is an upbeat song with depressing lyrics (this juxtaposition is common on Narrow Stairs). “Cait…” has a great chord progression as singer/songwriter Ben Gibbard talks about a misguided girl. It is classic Death Cab. The music on “You Can Do Better than Me” is straight out of Brian Wilson’s masterpiece Pet Sounds. It’s a fantastic way to incorporate an influence. “Grapevine Fires” is easily the best track on this album. Its simple but sad story of loss showcases Gibbard’s talent for creating emotionally grabbing melodies, and hitting the replay button a few times is a must. It also has some hypnotic vocal harmony. “Your New Twin Sized Bed” is a personal story of a friend who has lost hope in relationships. “Long Division” uses the metaphor of mathematics to represent the story of two lovers. “Pity and Fear” is yet another song about hopelessness. Finally, “The Ice is Getting Thinner” has Gibbard saying goodbye to someone he hoped to love. Narrow Stairs is full of poignant words surrounded by well suited music. However, this album does still disappoint in some spots.

The main flaw with Narrow Stairs is that it sounds like a step back for the band. Sonically, it seems to predate Transatlanticism and Plans. The melodies are more basic and less intriguing than they should be. The production is too sparse in some places, leading to blandness where there could be excitement. It has an amateurish feel overall that would be fine for a band’s first few albums, but as the seventh entry in their discography, following two masterpieces, they are clearly capable of more.

Narrow Stairs is Death Cab for Cutie’s Let it Be. On its own, it has some great moments, and it is a very good pop/rock record. However, like the last released (but not last recorded) Beatles album, there is something lacking. The gorgeous and memorable melodies aren’t as abundant as they should be, nor are the songs as developed. Coming from perhaps the best band in the genre today, Narrow Stairs is a letdown. While it’s a decent entry into their catalogue, it is far from Death Cab’s best work.

Liars – El Paso – Club 101, Texas – 2008-05-21

After one local band’s obnoxious rattling, followed by an Oklahoma band’s weird, shrieking music it was time for the real show to begin. I was unquestionably anxious and excited to see Liars in the flesh. After studying up for their show and immersing myself in their four proper albums, I was interested to see how they would transcend to a live setting. One thing is for sure, they did not disappoint.

Following the success of their 2007 self-titled album, Liars has been an intriguing band for me. I’ve always admired their ability to recreate themselves from album to album; however, I’ve never been able to fully get into their music. I studied their music and developed a new-found love for them and at about 10:30 PM on Wednesday night, I was ready.

Three members took the stage first, on the far right was multi-instrumentalist, Aaron Hemphill. He was setting up the music, and then switched to guitar and after two minutes Angus Andrew strolled on stage. Andrew was a site to see, his tall and lanky exterior front and center. He danced all over the stage, shaking his head/hair and twirling his body in a ragged manner. Once one of the more experimental songs off Drum’s Not Dead ended, the band tore through a great rendition of “Houseclouds” off of last year’s Liars. The catchy and menacing guitar line powered the song to be one of the night’s many, many highlights.

The remarkable aspect was how well the band’s music was executed. It certainly appeared like their 2006 concept album about a drum and a mountain is their favorite because many songs were chosen from that album. The tribal pounding of “The Wrong Coat for You Mt. Heart Attack” was played with a vigor and intensity that is unheard of. Hemphill rhythmically pounded away at his small drum kit while Andrew gently sung the melodic falsetto line.

It should be noted just how magnificent Andrew’s stage presence was. He moved and danced like the great Mick Jagger and he had an engaging charm. Often, he would talk to the crowd, share a joke or comment on our unique culture, he even proclaimed, “Let’s all move to Mexico, it’s right there!” Songs like “Freak Out,” “Plaster Casts of Everything” and “Grown Men Don’t Fall in the River, Just Like That”—the latter off their 2001 album, They Threw Us All in a Trench and Stuck a Monument on Top—bristled with energy as Andrew screamed, danced and twirled around the stage.

As expected, they closed out the show with their popular closer, “The Other side of Mt. Heart Attack.” It was a lulling and serene ending to a fierce, involved and amazing performance. The band mentioned that they were in El Paso way back in 2001 and that only two people attended that show. At this concert, the club was nearly half-packed and everyone there was simply entranced with the band’s music. After meeting the members, I was overjoyed at what an astounding performance it was, highly recommended and certainly something to freak out about.

The National – The Virginia EP

Let’s get this out of the way first: this is an atypical EP. At nearly 49 minutes long, with twelve songs packed in, it certainly feels like an LP. But that’s just it, in order to fully accept this collection of B-sides, rarities and new versions you just have to remind yourself that it is an EP. Yes, it’s by The National — one of the best American bands currently making music — but not everything on The Virginia EP works. And unlike last year’s stunning Boxer, this is not one of the best releases of the year.

Now forgive me if I come off premature, it’s a well-known fact that The National’s music has been tagged as “growing music.” Heck, even yours truly hinted at that on my review of the band’s majestic album from last year. However, the songs on this album don’t cover much new territory to really imagine that in a month or two, they will be revealed as breathtaking pieces of music.

Some of the songs were heard on last year’s album: “Slow Show” and “Fake Empire.” The former is an early version that sounds hazy and muddy; the latter is taken from a live show; nothing spectacular. A couple were left off last year’s album: “Santa Clara” and “Blank Slate.” The former is a slow grower that features some nice syncopated horn work at the end, while the other is an upbeat piece with a toe-tapping drum pattern. While both are pleasant, they are B-sides for a reason and were rightfully left off last year’s album.

Part of the reason why the band even made this EP was for fans to have something to latch on to when they bought Vincent Moon’s DVD covering the recording sessions of Boxer, entitled A Skin, A Night. Moon, most famously known for his “Take-Away Shows,” which feature artists and bands performing songs in unusual settings, does a decent job on the DVD. It’s shot more as a documentary and though some parts are enjoyable, it ends up unfulfilling.

But some of the songs show exactly why anyone would even want to make a DVD about The National. “Without Permission” is a tender love song about heartbreak and wanting her to come back. It’s highlighted by a sparkling guitar line, a catchy bass and an appropriately-placed shaker. It does a great job of showcasing how the band is able to manipulate lush music to evoke exactly what the lyrics are saying. “Lucky You” is a piano-driven ballad, again, about love and though it’s simple, is still an effective piece of music.

I guess it’s nice to have all of these songs in one compact package. And the closer — popular concert-closing song “About Today” – is a fine addition. I’m torn because after four singular albums and a great EP, this just feels like a let down and unnecessary. They honed in all of their strengths on last year’s masterpiece and although The Virginia EP has its highlights, they certainly aren’t comparable. Few will devour this but I’d have waited until their next proper studio album where they can flesh out all new music to deliver another knockout before releasing this EP.

Daniel Friel – Ghost Town

Daniel Friel’s main band, Parts and Labor, offers up slabs of rock tempered with a little noise. Lots of bands have done that over the years, some to great effect and some to little. Parts and Labor always fell somewhere near the better end of the middle of that spectrum to me. On Ghost Town, Friel offers up pure pop tempered with noise. Keep in mind that this is NOT noise-pop, which is an entirely different beast. No, what we’ve got here is something like what would happen if you compressed the hell out a Merzbow recording and added the bouncing digital pop that made up the soundtracks to the original NES greats such as Super Mario Bros., Legend of Zelda, Kid Icarus, etc. There are no vocals to get in the way but Ghost Town still manages to retain a vibrant sense of playfulness that just isn’t present in most noise records (Incapacitants being the one exception). THIS is what that Fuck Buttons record should have been like.

So let’s get something else out of the way right now too. Some of the press releases and descriptions from Important Records have been touting Ghost Town as the antecedent to In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. I don’t even know how to explain the connection but it seems pretty accurate to me. Somehow the melodies Friel is playing with on this album just work; they function to serve the same purpose as the melodies on that Neutral Milk Hotel album by providing a firm foundation for something that might not otherwise make sense. In the case of Neutral Milk Hotel it’s Jeff Mangum’s voice that benefits from those melodies, on Ghost Town it’s this static blast of noise that might otherwise overwhelm the listener. Let me be even more direct, this is a noise record that even the most squeamish indie fan might be able to listen to and enjoy. It’s amazing how Friel has managed to temper these inexplicably perfect pop pieces from a source that’s normally not conducive to doing so. It’s as if the noise just rides in on a wave of melody and happens to make intensity a secondary thought. When most groups are trying to be the harshest of the harsh, Friel quietly steps away from that competition and delivers something singular sounding and definitive.

Ghost Town works on so many levels at the same time it almost seems unfair. Aside from being noise and pop at the same time, some of it almost treads on dance territory as well. Not that I could really imagine people in a club getting into this or even dancing to it, but as I mentioned before it has a certain amount of bounce to it. This is where the comparisons to the music of 8-bit video games seems to hold weight. All of this noise and melody are draped over a latticework of percussionless unrepetitive rhythm. It’s almost like Ghost Town was made with the intention of people hearing it, nodding their heads and going “shit yeah!”

Daniel Friel has inadvertently created a noise record for people who don’t like noise. This is the antithesis to No Fun Fest and all of its participants. Instead of making a record of insular music for a ready-made audience, Friel has managed to make a noise record that maybe for the first time feels inclusive. Don’t like noise, Ghost Town will choke you with its melodies. Tired of straight pop, it’ll broaden the scope of what that term now encompasses. If you’re looking for another great record in a year filled with them, look no further.

Atmosphere – When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint that Shit Gold

Job stated, “When He hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold”—a saying that can generate various interpretations; the obvious one being that when faced with a new trial or obstacle to shine through and overcome it. I’m guessing that when Atmosphere, the Minnesota duo of producer Ant and emcee Slug, were coming up with the title to their new album the aforementioned quote was used in their thought process. It provides a cohesive, interrelated, uniting feeling that gives life to Slug’s stories about people dealing with the harsh struggle we call life on When Life Gives You Lemons, You Paint that Shit Gold.

As already noted, this is an album that features some of Slug’s most compelling stories. Everything from a father’s little daughter, to a hard-working waitress, to a woman waking up after a night of questionable decisions, to the father himself, are all covered on this atmospheric, gripping album. Leaving behind the sample-heavy beats, Ant favors live music provided by studio musicians and live instrumentation. From the opening tinkling of the music box on “Like the Rest of Us” that leads to a lush piano part it’s clear that this isn’t your usual Atmosphere album.

The remarkable aspect of it all is that the music and lyrics come together in such a seamless and brilliant manner. A shining example is on “Dreamer” where Slug recalls a woman who has already lived a rough life but still continues to dream about lost hopes and desires. A rugged bass and dreamy guitar line provide an ample backdrop and everything reflects on the bouncy and joyful chorus which features Ant rhyming, “but she still dreams after she woke tight, hold on that hope/sometimes it can seem so cold, do what you gotta do to cope.”

The album has killer lines by Slug—that are honestly—sprinkled throughout the entire album. The opening song is about a dad in his mid-thirties coming to grips with its understated style, Ant raps “you gotta let people be hypocrites/count your blessings and mind your business.” The jumpy and upbeat “You” is a straight-ahead song about a female working as a waitress in a dirty restaurant. She deals with unwanted stares and attention, stingy tipping and annoying customers but in the end she desires that special time when she gets out and ultimately asks if this is the life she wants; Ant sings, “you love the people that love you, you hear the music they move to, you give your all to the fall through, but you don’t know you.”

Further highlights are everywhere but another standout is the expansive rising on “Puppets.” Built around hand claps, jazzy piano chords and spectral chanting the song develops to convey one of the most intense climaxes on the record. By the time Channy Casselle joins to sing the chorus the song is a boisterous and uplifting affair that is utterly dazzling. The following song, “The Skinny” features yet another startlingly catchy line by Ant as he raps, “your lips taste like his d*ck, I can always tell when he’s been in your whip”—the enunciation of the last word being particularly affecting.

It’s significant that everything the duo decided to employ worked in a very elegant, smart and outstanding manner. This is a matured and musical hip-hop duo and whether it is the fine contributions by Tom Waits and Tunde Adebimpe on separate songs, Ant’s soulful and majestic music, or Slug’s illustrious and poignant story-telling; it’s all superb. One thing is for sure, this is a ridiculously awesome album; one that has everything a music fan could want and through every brink, turn and riff it shines like gold.

Silver Jews – Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea

With 2005’s Tanglewood Numbers, David Berman ostensibly birthed the Silver Jews Mark II; a seemingly more gregarious reincarnation of his previously hermit-like enterprise. Yet whilst it was fun to see his reinvigorated loose collective finally embracing the touring life, it’s arguable that the relatively formulaic and repetitive country-rock chugging of Tanglewood Numbers set Berman’s brilliantly clever and earthy songwriting a tad adrift. So, in some ways this new long-playing sequel is a bit of a make or break move for the Silver Jews – challenging Berman to marry his biting missives to more imaginative backdrops.

From the offset, Berman certainly has the right ingredients for a more alchemic affair, with the likes of wife Cassie on bass and Lambchop’s Tony Crow (piano) and William Tyler (guitar) on hand to steer his prose into more eclectic environs – which they largely succeed in doing. Thus, the tongue-contorting “What Is Not But Could Be If” has an undulating mix of desolation and twang like a Morricone wild west film score compressed into three minutes. The giddy “Aloysius, Bluegrass Drummer” possesses a wonderful barroom-piano rattle to match its misanthropic Johnny Cash-meets-Waylon Jennings narrative. The chiming “Candy Jail” and the opulent cover of Maher Shalal Hash Baz’s “Open Field” are both blessed with a balmy Byrdsian shimmer, whereas the epic “San Francisco B.C.” has a strange almost-Krautrock bass-led groove. The forgivably schmaltzy “We Could Be Looking For The Same Thing” has a warm Gram ‘n’ Emmylou vibe and the bleak “My Pillow Is The Threshold” has an engrossing darkness reminiscent of “Time Will Break The World” (from 2001’s Bright Flight).

Not everything works out so well though. Although Cassie Berman was a fine but sparingly-deployed vocal foil for David’s droll burr on the last two Jews LPs (notably on the Nancy ‘n’ Lee delights of “Tennessee” from Bright Flight), here on Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea her pipes are used way too much and are too often cloaked in an ill-fitting studio gauze. “Suffering Jukebox” is perhaps the worst example, with Cassie effectively taking the lead for the latter half of the overlong song. Further in, on “Party Barge”, she slips in a really gangly semi-spoken contribution that seems to be have been accidentally transplanted from a lost Sleater-Kinney track.

Moderate gripes aside, the album does allow Berman’s poetic pen to strike with more noticeable flair than on its predecessor. From the cutting polemic of “Strange Victory, Strange Defeat” (“What’s with all the handsome grandsons in these rock band magazines? / And what have they done with the fat ones, the bald and the goateed!?”), via the epigrammatically-filled “Party Barge” (“Father drove a steamroller / Momma was a crossing guard / She got rolled when he got steamed”) and on to the pathos-heavy abandonment in “My Pillow Is The Threshold” (“I unplug all the neon / Turn the ringer off the phone/ I throw my thoughts like a tomahawk into this world which I disown”), Berman is clearly back on form.

Taken as a whole, Lookout Mountain, Lookout Sea stills far short of the Silver Jews’ seminal statements – namely 1998’s American Water and 1994’s Starlite Walker – but its mix of mischief and melancholy provides more than enough to keep David Berman in the game he continues to reassuringly and unpredictably play on his own terms.

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