Kings of Leon – Only by the Night

A once sincere Southern-rock band with a heavy twinge of garage, last year’s Because of the Times saw Kings of Leon step out of the garage and into the arena. This is the same arena-styled rock that has worked grand success for bands such as U2 and Coldplay. And although you have probably already read a large chunk of comparisons referencing the former, Only by the Night is Kings of Leon’s tailored album for the mainstream. It’s a good album, one that will definitely win over a few fans, but at the same time, they will lose a few who wish the band still rocked hard and raw.

There is a certain polish to this album, one that hints at bigger and better things. The guitars gleam with a signature shine and the drums and cymbals pop with precision, and it all lends a helping hand to Caleb Followill’s unique singing style. I still have no idea what kind of accent it is and whether or not it’s genuine but his voice sounds fantastic on all of the songs here. This is especially apparent on the gloomy closer, “Cold Desert.” It’s laid out with howling screeches and a translucent guitar as Followill sings about sadness as the sun goes down.

Naysayers will whine about the band’s lyrical wordplay — or lack thereof — depending on which side your on. Lead single “Sex on Fire” is definitely not something Shakespeare would be proud of but it isn’t supposed to be taken as seriously either. I’m of the opinion that the dudes are in on their own jokes and the music is just too catchy, driven and terrific to get all caught up on lyrics about a hot, passionate night.

With nearly each song on the album being a winner, it looks like working fast to crank out another album in one year’s time paid off. Following in its predecessor’s footsteps, this is a much mellower and calmer sound. The album gets off to a tremendous start with the rhythmic music of “Closer,” fueled with melodic guitars, warbling electronics and Followill’s poignant singing: “She took my heart and she took my soul.” This same kind of ‘down on his luck’ character reappears on “Use Somebody” and it’s an interesting hand to play considering how much actual play the band gets in real life. Here, an angular guitar that recalls early 90s U2, plays secondhand to Followill’s distinctive vocals.

It’s hard to know how this album will age alongside Kings of Leon’s catalog because it sounds so good right off the bat. It rivals Aha Shake Heartbreak in consistently strong music and developing songwriting but it lacks its overall arousing jolt. Back then, you could tell these were guys out to have a great time; let’s rock and let’s rock hard. Any band can change their sound but I hope they are doing it for progression’s sake and not for sale’s sake. It’s a tight, very good album and although it’ll have its unfair share of detractors, like the rest of the band’s albums, it will shine no matter what.

Master Slash Slave – Scandal

I sometimes wonder why I review certain albums and find myself sidelining others, even when I’m less than hugely keen on a band and/or their music, for whatever reason. Packaging and PR often has a lot to do with this, and the sleeve blurb on my review copy of Scandal goes something like “Kraftwerk and The White Stripes arguing with Interpol over what to wear … Matt Jones sings about pretending to be rich …” Better stick that on the Hi Fi then thought I, the image of Ralf Hutter and Meg White scuffling over a red t-shirt wasn’t one I could shake off easily –

So onto the Hi Fi it went; click, whirr, bleepbleepbleepbleep … I nearly took it off again. The jokey opening sequence is, I think, a mistake, sounding as it does an awful lot like a pre-millenium ringtone: if that was my phone, I’d get a new one quick. And if there’s one band Master Slash Slave (not a brilliant name chaps) sound a lot like, it isn’t the groundbreaking electronic experimentalists from Dusseldorf, nor is it Detroit’s Goth Donny and Marie, not even Joy Division – the band with one of the least appealing names I’ve encountered for several months really do sound an awful lot like The Killers, but with the aforementioned Matt Jones taking his vocal cues more from the slippery tones of Suede’s Brett Anderson, rather than Brandon Flower’s Morrisonian affectations.

What about the music though? I hear you ask – well, “False Dichotomies” has a lively sounding synth intro which avoids sounding too much like an actual 80s Casiotone keyboard (they didn’t sound that great then either, as I recall)but there is no escaping the fact that tracks such as “Slummin’” really do sound a lot like The Killers. A livelier, less morbid, midweek gig you actually though was a good one kind of resemblance, but the similarities are so glaring that I’m tempted to wonder whether one or two members of the Las Vegas four piece aren’t actually involved here in assorted capacities.

And nowhere did I hear anything that even remotely resembled either the singing or guitar playing of Jack White, whom I once very nearly had the privilege of interviewing; but that, as the saying has it, is another story entirely.

Pale Young Gentlemen – Black Forest (tra la la)

The “sophomore slump” does not apply to the Pale Young Gentlemen, with Black Forest (tra la la) – their follow-up to 2007’s outstanding debut – hitting the shelves on October 7th. Their first album, a creative, kitschy collection of off-the-wall tracks with vintage sensibilities, accrued wide acclaim from critics and fans alike, and this second offering, Black Forest (tra la la), is equally as groundbreaking.

Stepping back from the raucous fun of the first album, Black Forest (tra la la) embraces the dreamy qualities of perfectly harmonized cello, violin, and viola, while lending itself to plucked strings on the guitar, pensive vocals, and a sweeping progression from first track to last. The maturation and development of this band is obvious and unmistakable; the members of Pale Young Gentlemen clearly have a vision for themselves. The most striking sign of this growth is the departure from really good “pop-rock” to a new type of music that is magnificently orchestrated but still sounds contemporary, the prime example being “Marvelous Design.” “I Wasn’t Worried” shows the most flashes of the first record, but the gorgeous harmonizing and sweet lyrics shows the band as a more refined, mellower version of themselves.

Now signed to Madison’s Science of Sound label, the band, whose grassroots-like promotion of their first album led to astoundingly successful results, has an even wider range of exposure to their uniquely original style and sound. The 50-second instrumental “Shadows/Doorways” sounds like a snippet of a classical overture, and somehow, it works perfectly. “We Will Meet” incorporates even more musically diverse aspects while keeping up the common thread of songs that flow and undulate into one another seamlessly. This track, perhaps the best on the entire album, also boasts great lyrics and a relaxed mood. Once again, the Pale Young Gentlemen has crafted a singularly noteworthy record unlike anything else.

The Boy Bathing – A Fire To Make Preparations

A Fire To Make Preparations is a very perplexing album. It’s bewildering because the first four songs are some of the most captivating, inspiring and original music I’ve heard in a long time. The rest of the disc, although superior by most standards, doesn’t live up to the expectations forged by the opening tracks and seems more like esteemed imitations of some prominent indie-folk bands, which is not iniquitous by any means.

The Boy Bathing immediately draw comparisons to indie luminaries The Decemberists and Loch Lomond not only with their unique blend of charming folk-pop and quaint, captivating indie-rock, but also in the literate and expressive articulations of lyricist and lead singer David Hurwitz. With a wavering voice similar to Bright Eyes’ Conor Oberst, Hurwitz brings the songs to life with expressive feeling, pungent words and an animated flair that may be an acquired taste for some.

The music on the first four tracks, “The Beaches Meet The Sea”, “The Questions Simple”, “The Apple Is Sliced” and “The Miner’s Jewels”, is both compelling and superb. It is an original mix of indie-rock, chamber-folk, and pop that is charming, moody, alluring and intriguing. Acoustic and electric instrumentation are perfectly layered and the songs unfold with charming unpredictability.

Deepening the music’s impact is the dramatic singing and recondite lyrics like “How’s it gonna matter if I die today? Maybe one less car on the interstate”, “My future is an apple and I’m reaching for a slice. I don’t care about money but having it is nice” and “There was a big mistake in the factory that built us all, with a heart so big and a body so small. So if I start to freak you out, you know it’s not my fault. You can blame it on the way the human race evolved”

Things settle down a bit musically after “The Miner’s Jewels” as the clever melodies and magnetic arrangements are surrendered to a decidedly alt-country influence with a softer, more acoustic sound accented with piano, accordion and mandolin. But the lyrics consistently provide the bite. Whether exploring self worth through a twisted world view or chronicling the endeavors of strange characters, the eloquent indie-folk inhabits similar environments as Bright Eyes and Crash Test Dummies.

It’s apparent that The Boy Bathing are on to something here. The core quartet of Hurwitz (Vocals, Guitar, Piano, Mandolin, Banjo, Saxophone), Jeannie Scofield (Vocals, Bass, Keyboards), Dylan Allen (Elec Guitar, Vocals, Keyboards, Percussion), and Matt Bogdanow (Drums, Vocals, Accordian, Keyboards, Percussion) establish mood with rich melodies and discriminating sounds that, unfortunately, can’t be sustained through the disc’s 13 tracks and 67 minutes. Even still, A Fire To Make Preparations shows enough promise to stand above most independent rock band releases and should definitely be checked out by fans of the RIYLs. They won’t be disappointed.

Bon Iver – Bristol – Trinity Arts Centre, England – 2008-09-12

Anyone who recently picked-up Bon Iver’s low-key but much-acclaimed debut LP, For Emma, Forever Ago, could have quite understandably expected Justin Vernon to have toured its wares in even more skeletal one-man arrangements. Bravely yet mercifully, Vernon appears to have little desire to perform the log-cabin-birthed album almost ‘as is.’ Instead he seeks to flesh it out, bend it into new brighter shapes and pave the way for its sequel. In fact, at this live Bristol engagement there was only one song that Vernon strummed through in solitary. The rest of the time, he was backed by his highly adaptable touring ensemble – adding luxuriant harmonies, layers of percussion, extra guitars and bass – which expanded entries from the still slender Bon Iver canon into rich and detailed mini-epics. The re-interpretative results were rarely less than transcendental, in the process making For Emma… sound like a rudimentary demo, as well as suggesting that Bon Iver’s sophomore set could easily usurp its predecessor, if the live band were to be allowed into the studio (or squeezed inside Vernon’s rustic lodge).

Whilst on disc, “Creature Fear” practically floats from the speakers, on stage it erupted into a raging My Bloody Valentine-style psyche-rock bliss-out. For “The Wolves (Act I And II)” the surprisingly gregarious Vernon even invited the audience to join-in convincingly for a steadily swelling and spine-tingling sing-along crescendo. The already gut-wrenching “Skinny Love” cut with an even-deeper emotive edge too – with the help of some clattering percussive accompaniment and a tougher lead vocal – to become the ‘definitive’ version in this writer’s sonic memory banks. Other highlights included a promising new composition – entitled “Blood Bank” – and the spellbinding grand-finale cover of Sarah Siskind’s “Lovin’s For Fools” with all the group (and members of support act Bowerbirds) huddled and hunched around one microphone to take full advantage of the crowd’s remarkably respectable quietude.

Whilst there’s a lot of misinformed nonsense at present about how musicians can (and should) only make money from touring, it is currently worth forking-out more to see Bon Iver out-on-the-road than to pay for the ‘at home’ experience.

Mamiffer – Hirror Enniffer

Being a one-man band myself, I’m always interested in the work of artists in the same situation. The music of these people is special because, if nothing else, it’s 100% them; their ideas, their production, and their skill at their instruments. Mamiffer is essentially an example of this, being the brainchild of Faith Coloccia, a Palm Springs native. Her first full length release, Hirror Enniffer, uses some other musicians, but they are only tools to recite a dream all her own.

On this LP, Mamiffer consists of drummer Chris Common (who also mixed the album) with some guest appearances from various people. It is assumed that Coloccia, being skilled in piano, accordion, guitar, glockenspiel, and other instruments, plays mostly everything else. Faith’s ideas have been described as “dark and moody…creating a beautiful vision.” As a sort of ominous post-rock meets Tori Amos disc (that’s completely instrumental), I agree. Hirror Enniffer is interesting, gorgeous, sad, dark, and, with a short running time, it warrants many, many listens.

“This Land,” like all the tracks, is piano driven. It builds great tension with its simplicity, sounding a bit like Agalloch if they favored the keys over guitars. It also features the same chord progression as Pink Floyd’s “Welcome to the Machine” and its minor variations keep it engaging. “Death Shawl” is an attempt at conveying a lot of emotion with simple noises and sounds (again, like Agalloch or any Post-Rock artist). Honestly, it is a bit too much static and monotone to be completely effective but it is listenable, and its purpose is somewhat successful. “Annwn” begins optimistically but, with the inclusion of a distorted bass, becomes threatening and then sorrowful. The string accompaniment, though almost hidden, does add a classical appeal. Fans of Tori Amos will notice a similarity of style in the middle section, which enters into some surprisingly original and pleasant territory. It’s a great piano piece. There is an incoherent chant near the end that’s a nice touch. “Black Running Water” also has a nice atmosphere about it, with sounds accompanying the piano to enhance the feeling. The drums are also worth noting here, as they play simply but effectively with a especially nice echo. “Sucking A Dead Litter” isn’t as full or complicated as its predecessor, but it gives off a similar feeling. It combines actual music and emotional noise. Finally, “Cyhraeth” immediately sets itself apart by opening with an acoustic guitar. Coloccia sings individual notes, harmonizing with herself, over the electric guitar and piano. The album fades out with a sustained note.

Hirror Enniffer doesn’t have a lot of variation, and that may turn off some listeners. Each track has its own advantages and specifications, but the overall formula is essentially the same. However, this is somewhat expected with the genre so it works, but don’t expect to hear new tones and instruments as the album progresses.

Mamiffer has crafted a great debut. It’s nice to hear a piano featured over various guitars to convey the themes. Each performer plays just what they need to and there’s never a sense of limitation. They use their skills to create music that sounds very simple and easy to emulate but isn’t. It is the auditory equivalent of poetry: profound, universal statements phrased with the perfect combination of uniqueness and common musical choices.

Two Sheds – s/t EP

Listening to this Two Sheds self-titled EP I find myself drifting away from the task at hand. Whatever I’m attempting to do while listening to this disc, I can’t accomplish. I end up sitting, eyes closed, captured by the slow net cast by singer Caitlin Gutenberger’s voice. Even though I’m not accomplishing much on the endless to-do list while listening, I fully appreciate the mini-retreat this EP offers.

While Gutenberger’s hazy vocals are a definite centerpiece of Two Sheds, this is not a focal point due to lack of substance elsewhere. The music is relatively simple and laid back – floating around hushed Americana and folk-ish territory – but the band is adept and subtle flourishes bring the songs alive. Without the tight music the vocals would mean very little – and in the case of Two Sheds solid lyric writing binds the whole package together.

The first pair of songs, “You” and “Perfect”, are sparse and dusty. Not soul-suckingly morose or hollow, but definitely reflective and somber. The strings on “Perfect”, provided by guest Melody Mundy, give the song its hazy horizon. These tracks certainly set the tone for the rest of the EP, with one exception – “WTF”. This is the only fully electric number on this five-pack of tunes, and while it isn’t a driving rock n’ roll number there is more of a sense of urgency backing Gutenberger’s “what the fuck” chorus. Closer “To Be Alive” is perhaps the masterpiece of this EP, and is the track that really demands a listen.

While the Two Sheds EP has a definite niche – one that doesn’t suit every mood – the music here is too good not to share with others. You probably won’t find yourself retreating to your dark place, but some introspection and self-discovery is likely on the bill. Or maybe a half-sleep and bright, warm day dreaming.

Twine – Violets

Twine is composed of Greg Malcolm and Chad Mossholder and Violets, their fourth studio album, focuses on the human voice in conversation and in singing mode. Greg and Chad build up their low-key electronic sound by sending files to each other over the internet, layering vocals, found sounds, loops of guitar, and ambient to droning electronics into songs that deal with the disconnect, discontent, and dissolution of the world and individual lives. The static, glitches, disembodied vocals, and attenuated sounds form a dichotomy of melody and noise that reflects the isolated, fractured, and distant modern world.

While the songs on Violets are hit or miss, with some songs devolving into long phone conversations or tipping the balance into noise, other songs are haunting and intimate. The spare instrumental “Small” features a steady rainfall, a mix of Western guitar strum and plucked, contemplative guitar notes, and reverberating corrugated metal sounds.

Standout track “Endormie” works wonders with Alison Shaw of Cranes on guest vocals. It’s slow-paced and long at over eight minutes, but it captivates musically and vocally, like being caught in a drawn-out dream state. Alison’s vocals drift in and out of the song, as she either speaks sweetly in French phrases about feeling like she’s not awake, or sings longingly in English that “There’s a wonderful place out there / but I don’t know where to go.” Her words are echoed and elongated against loops of steely, bending guitar lines, slippery, skittering electronics, and a slowly dawning, ominous sound in the background.

“In Through the Devices” drops in on pieces of a telephone conversation between a distraught girl, who is about to run away from home, and her father or uncle, who talks the girl down from running away by stating in a matter of fact tone that “Nobody in this family hates you.” Meditative, sliding, steely guitar lines and a ghostly backdrop contrast with restless electronic glitches and crackle.

Gail Schadt is featured on the downbeat “From Memory” and her voice is similar to Suzanne Perry of Love Spirals Downwards, with a smooth, sweet, airy, but melancholy tone matched with reverberating guitar strum that gets a little fuzzier as the song progresses. At under two minutes, this song is more like an outtake, and one that is way too short. Gail also sings on “Something Like Eternity”, amid a fast-spinning metallic sound, and her vocals are highly echoed and contain a tinge of distortion. Again, at under one and a half minutes, this song feels like an extract that should have been fleshed out to leave a more lasting impression. I guess the song title is meant to be ironical…

Seun Kuti – Many Things

Fela: revolutionary, counterculturalist, orator, preacher, innovator, hero. Seun: son, musician.

This difference is more than understandable – it’s preferred. Any attempt by Seun, Fela’s youngest son, to rise above his father’s authority would be pure posturing, and I think he knows this. With Many Things, his first long-player, he doesn’t try to encompass Fela’s political breadth, and he doesn’t deviate from the afrobeat formula creating by Fela that’s maintained freshness over the years. Contrast this to, say, older brother Femi’s works, which over the years have made pathos-grabs in the form of explicit familial commemoration (“Remember Fela!”) and also sought to establish an afrobeat/hip hop hybrid (with varying degrees of success). Not that there’s anything wrong with experimentation, but Fela’s original form was so vigorous and fertile that concentrated musical efforts on the parts of thousands couldn’t exhaust its fire. (Given the scarceness of afrobeat groups out there, we won’t have anything to worry about for a while.)

So, when I say that this record could easily have been pressed back in ‘75, understand it’s a good thing. The taut rhythms and robust group arrangements – brought to you from Fela’s Egypt ‘80, an ensemble Seun, beginning at the age of 15, has been leading since his father’s death – sound unstoppable still, carrying Seun’s booming voice across any lengthy composition (average time is about eight minutes). What I’ve always found most intriguing about the genre is the inherent tension resulting from having vitriolic and riotous orations strewn about such jovial instrumentals, and Many Things preserves this. “Don’t bring that shit to Africa!” and other such mantras extend over top an otherwise bouncy jazz/funk blend, and, though you wouldn’t expect it, the uncompromising bombast of one complements the flexibility of the other.

Being the son of a legacy sucks, especially when one enters into the family trade, but Seun has the vigor to pull it off, so this record doesn’t feel like he’s performing just to satisfy the requirements of a lineage. Fela said, “Music is a thing of joy, man. When I play music I don’t want to stop. Just play and play.” On Many Things, beyond the brisk horns and vital pro-African rhetoric, you can hear a softer voice: “Ditto.”

The Cheaters Club – QQROFL

The Cheaters Club brings the dirge. There’s no mistaking the Arab Strap stylings on QQROFL, a CD title surely meant to convey the irony of the situation. The Cheaters Club probably goes a step beyond its mentors in terms of frank talk, though. This one’s ready to take on the PMRC (does that organization still exist?).

QQROFL trades on simple electronic beats and minimal keyboard melodies. Sometimes the melodies get a little dissonant (“East and West,” which also does some vocoding on the vocals) or benefit from lurking, somber chords and drones (“Uncertain”). On “Not So Much,” the duo puts in a few extra unsettling samples to disorient, backed by what might even be a bass guitar.

The vocals have the overly dramatic quality of the fashionable mainstream emo bands: breathy and drawn out, more spoken than sung. It’s a little self-conscious but not out of character for this kind of music. “Pleasure comes in tiny ripples / Pleasure comes in waves,” from the track “Pleasure,” again isn’t out of place for this kind of music. But what follows is a little more explicit than most: the rejoinder “I just want to fuck you” does get to the point in a way that dispenses with the indirection and innuendo that more wishy-washy bands might have chosen to employ. Other songs use the same direct lyrical approach, which is almost refreshing in its being so forthright.

If you’re ready for a downer of an album that’s uncluttered by fussy arrangements or confessions of love, you could do worse than QQROFL. If you’re standing on a railing of the Golden Gate Bridge, it’s probably best to go with something else.

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