The Band of Heathens – s/t

What was Alt. Country? Lyle Lovett, right? That song about riding a pony on a boat. Nashville instrumentation given an eccentric new wave twist that harked back to the tailfin gloss of the mid-50s. Two decades on and things are altogether more laidback, even bluesy, in the areas where the country mainstream blurs into more rootsy styles, and a prime example of a band making both credible and quality music that bridges more than one genre is this Austin 5 piece.

The album cover features a “‘Heathens” petrol pump and this is, I’m supposing, to alert us to the fact that these particular Texans are oilmen, out drilling all week and strapping guitars on at the weekends. There is a definite electro-acoustic feel to the eleven tracks on display here, and the entire album has an equally definite “feet up on the porch” attitude, nothing too vexing or troublesome’s going to upset the Band Of Heathens barbeque this or any weekend. The sound is, initially at least, straight ahead no frills country folk, with the emphasis falling on the folk side, and I’m certain their live shows are faithfully recreated here. The opening chords of first track “Don’t Call On Me” neatly set the tone for much of what follows; the acoustic chords carry most of the tune while everyone else takes things on the easy side. A warm enough introduction to what develops into some quite lively and inventive guitar play though. “Jackson Station” features some atmospheric mandolin and showcases the groups rhythmic style, the song isn’t too far removed from a more traditional polka.

As the album develops though, the electrics start to take the foreground. “Unsleeping Eye” has a gritty blues intro that shows the group moving into rockabilly styles of the kind previously handled by such performers as Tav Falco, “Hallelujah” delves into actual psychedelia, and ballad “40 Days” is a proper tip of the hat to the aforementioned Mr Lovett, and professionals that they are, each of these tracks are identifiably the work of The Band Of Heathens, not merely tributes to other styles of musicianship.

Now, I need to admit that I knotted my brows a bit deciding how best to describe the range of styles the Band Of Heathens cover here – and the inner sleeve contains one of the lengthiest thank you lists
I’ve seen recently – but I doubt the band themselves would concern themselves too much with pigeonholing everything they do into neatly labelled compartments: too much skill is at work on this album to let stylistic pedantry get in the way of the actual music.

Heavy Water Experiments – s/t

The self-titled debut by Heavy Water Experiments cooks up choice blends of psychedelic, sludge, and acid rock. This motley combination of classic genres blooms darkly sweet in this LA duo’s capable hands. Despite some weak spots, this album is a compelling listen for indie rock fans.

The music revolves around persuasive grooves, swirling in between Black Sabbath’s blues-born jams and Pink Floyd’s atmospheric swells. The result is unique. The dominant aesthetic is psychedelia and, although Heavy Water Experiments’ influences are obvious, the band does not keep company with today’s classic rock revivalists.

The album has weak spots. The clean, bright vocals occasionally stumble. And HWE can rehash some stale sounds, leaving their hypnotic grooves susceptible to monotony.

But most of the album is rich with alluring bouts of synth keys and fuzzed guitar dirges nailed on to excellent performances by the rhythm section.

Opening track “Goldenthroat” delivers the album’s best sludge. The distorted, descending guitar riff tag teams dreamy atmospheres. The vocal sounds timid sometimes, but overcomes. This is a strong opener, equal parts hypnosis and tension. “Mirror The Sky” strides through a solid groove under music festooned with electric keys. The fuzzed out, wandering guitar frees up space over the rhythm section. This song is less of a sludge track, and more of a basement jam that is polished off with an elevated bridge section at 3:00. The vocals vaguely resemble Clinic. “Mirror The Sky” is among the album’s best tracks.

The acid rock-inspired “Anodyne” reveals the album’s weaknesses. Some flaccid vocals are propped up with harmonies and the music loses flavor by song’s end. Luckily, the best track comes next.

On “Clairvoyance”, a fuzzed guitar and bass put a catchy riff on repeat, dressing it up with electric keys. That riff becomes a hook backed by a redeemed vocal and relaxed groove. The hook and focused rhythm performance makes this a winner.

Next, “Neverlove” inserts a choppy riff between fluid atmospheres. And the danceable “Oracles” showcases lighter theatrics that trickle over the bass.

“Octavian” is a rich, compelling addition to this debut. Here, an acoustic 12 string engages other instruments for a fresh take on Eastern and Latin influences.

But now, the well starts to run dry. “Otherland” and “Dementia” approach a hook, but ultimately fail to gel. And the distorted guitar on “Conflagration Song” boosts power, but soon the tired wah wah effects go limp.

“Solitude” is a return to form, as a driving rhythm pushes electric keys down a slithering bass line. The music floats and the vocals blend well. But the album closes weakly with the extended jam, “Book Colored Blue”. The gong-jumped rhythm and phoned-in psychedelics dig a 10 minute hole and can’t climb out.

Despite their late game losses, Heavy Water Experiments get a lot more right on their debut than they get wrong. They meld focused psychedelics and rhythms juxtaposed with heavier guitars and bass. The music never comes off as aggressive or over saturated. Imogen has successfully reinvented itself as a formidable talent known as Heavy Water Experiments.

Able Baker Fox – Voices

Anyone who listened to Small Brown Bike or The Casket Lottery should be aware that they were once creative cohorts. Able Baker Fox reunites the post-hardcore supergroup for – big surprise – an impressive full-length. Funny to think this is technically their debut. Members of the two bands pick up the sounds where they left off on Voices.

The mashup on “October” toggles between The Casket Lottery’s howling verses and late Small Brown Bike’s refined style of chorus singing. The sharply meandering guitars are reminiscent of the former, and straight up “rock-out” parts the latter. And still, it sounds like an original product, which is what they’re going for this time around. The opener is memorable for more than musical reasons; my favorite lyric is delivered by the SBB vocalist. “And you are in control / stop ignoring what you know!” Both frontmen split the vocal duties pretty evenly. Assuming you’re already a diehard fan, it works because there’s no voice clearly superior to the other. To me, these bands go hand in hand on a playlist. Newcomers unaware of the Able Baker Fox ingredients should still agree. Each vocalist is talented enough to carry their own band, and my god, they know how to harmonize too.

Sure, there are plenty of recognizable elements cherry-picked from each direct influence, but I contend that Voices is strong enough to stand alongside past accomplishments. That dark, Casket Lottery mystique is resurrected on “What Doesn’t Kill You.” The one riff most eligible to replay in your head is the seductive one from that song. There aren’t any depressingly slow songs, but you can always dig up the old albums for that (“For When I’m Missing,” anyone?). The rock and roll lead in “Stuttering” enjoys mindfucking you as it zig-zags from left to right speaker. “Palindramatics” has the guys breaking out the effects pedals to once again create a mild space rock atmosphere. Unlike the experimentation that took place on their respective final releases, there are less hiccups here. On a side note: I’m unsure if the song’s content has anything to do with everyone’s favorite Alaskan. “Dead Space” and most every song lay off the delay pedals and stick to the rock. They’re probably too old to take drugs and get weird on us, but the sound of their maturity is far from stale.

Able Baker Fox can hit you with a huge chorus or stick to a subtle groove and reel you in just the same. It took a few listens to feel this agreeable, but you should see for yourself. They’re genre professionals. They’ve got the pedigree to prove it.

For once I can’t say all my favorite rock bands are dead.

The Marches – 4 a.m. Is The New Midnight

Southern California, as the motion picture industry often reminds us, is a place saturated with hedonistic pleasures and self-indulgence. It is altogether fitting then, that the Marches hail from La La Land. Much like the urban sprawl they inhabit, their debut album, 4 a.m. Is The New Midnight, is frequently messy but occasionally beautiful. It’s chaotic and ephemeral, but nonetheless presents several opportunities to give into the most tempting of vices. It revels in bursts of pleasure before abruptly moving onto something bigger and better. It’s edgy and modern, yet nostalgically retro. Indeed, this everything-but-the-kitchen-sink affair can be a bit overwhelming to the senses. Truth be told though, sensory overload never felt so good.

While no fewer than a dozen musicians are enlisted on the record, the band is decidedly the brainchild of Richard Conti. Given credit for writing and arranging all songs in addition to performing a majority of the instruments, Conti is also ironically paid respects for coming up with the dough to fund a project that was “recorded on borrowed recording equipment and borrowed instruments.” If the numerous recording locations (mainly the homes of band members’ families) are an indication of anything, it’s that these dudes collectively suffer from both a physical and musical ability to sit still. As The Marches were traversing the tangled freeways of LA to put the album together, they also managed to tap into some of the most instantly recognizable sounds of Motown, trip-hop, electronica, and dance rock. Unfortunately, far too many of these gestures of worship are never fully realized; every time the band hits a satisfying groove, they take off in another direction.

At some point during my first listen, the following artists popped into my head (in no particular order): LCD Soundsystem, St. Vincent, Beach Boys, and Imogen Heap. And that’s just the first five tracks. Sit with the disc for long enough, and you might even discover a little Diana Ross, and Bach.

The album’s first song (also the title track) is heavy on synthesized blips and squeals that sound like they were culled right from your favorite video game of fifteen years ago. Conti gets crazy with the vocoder on the lead vocals while female backup singers give us one of many nods to the Motor City with some Motown stylings. The next song is entitled “Bad Touch” and finds the Marches plunging head first into Detroit territory. It’s one of the album’s strongest moments, and finds gritty synthesizers and sassy saxophone riffs sharing the spotlight. In another dash of liner note irony, a man named James is credited with the tune’s “electric Motown bass.” It’s not James Jamerson, but damned if he doesn’t come close to perfection in matching the famed bassist’s grooves.

One instance of absolute beauty comes in the form of “Need Me Back,” a song which finds vocalist Briana Nadeau channeling Portishead’s Beth Gibbons as she sings, “I need someone / No one needs me back.” Though the drums and saxophones remain pretty busy, the lack of any additional instrumentation makes for an arresting two and a half minutes of the perfect musical accompaniment for a midnight drive through Hollywood.

On the other side of needless filler like “Skinema,” “The End Of The Album Pt. 2,” and “The Trouble With Heart Murmurs,” we find the Marches going into Supremes territory with “So Ill.” The title may be more Run-DMC than Diana Ross, but the song is an expertly crafted homage to one of the mid-60’s defining scenes. As an added bonus, Richard Conti gives us a wonderful change of pace by separating himself from his vocoder just long enough to give us a track with unprocessed male vocals.

The Marches’ debut record is refreshingly confident in its throwbacks to other genres, and deliciously quirky in its execution. The sardonic lyrics are a fine compliment to any party scene. Songs like “Sometimes Sex Isn’t About The Money” and “Bobby Brown,” with their nonsensical rants about seedy people doing seedy things, aren’t about to win over any singer/songwriters, but they’ll definitely fill up the dance floor. 4 a.m. Is The New Midnight is a far from perfect record, but it is certainly deserving of your time and attention. Who knows: with enough positive press, the Marches might be able to pony up the cash for their own rigs on their sophomore LP. I’d gladly aid the cause.

Cyne – Pretty Dark Things

I don’t think there is anyone making cooler, more diverse music in hip hop than Cyne. They’ve taken the best of RZA’s muddy, grimy production, paired it with some socially conscious rhymes, and laced the whole thing with guitar noodling and tight, syncopated drum beats.

“Just Say No” opens with a drippy, clockwork backbone under an anthemic yelling of “wake the fuck up”. It’s a really interesting juxtaposition – the dreamy melody and the stark, sudden screams, and it really sets the tone for the rest of the record. The next track, “The Runaway”, is packed with Afro-Cuban drums and jazzy guitar and muted trumpets. “Money Parade” is a story of growing up and becoming disillusioned with America, with some powerful resignation in the lines “hope floats / but nothing obtains” and “tired of white people / tired of niggas too”. “Never Forget Pluto” is a rapid-fire, concise track, a sandwich of meaty, verbose rhymes and spacey, languid melodies.

This is a deep album – the lyrics deal with politics, race, class, and other tough yet pressing issues. But MC’s Cise Star and Akin never get too preachy or pedantic, even when they harp on outdated topics like Michael Richards infamous outbursts. I absolutely love the musicality of this record- it’s so varied and complex, fusing the cooler, lush tones of groups like Digable Planets with the loopy pop sensibilities of hip hop’s current offerings. Huge recommendation for Pretty Dark Things. It’s a no-brainer if you are any sort of fan of hip hop, and I’d push for non-hip hop heads to give it a listen – this album has a lot to offer.

Manual – Confluence

Manual is the pseudonym Danish producer Jonas Munk uses to express his own musical identity, which for the most part has consisted of dreamy, shoegazing indie-pop, stimulating electronica soundtracks and atmospheric ambient pieces. Often combining these styles in such perfect balance, his music can be enjoyed at low volume as art installation soundtracks or as engaging rock music blasted at full volume. 2007’s double-CD release Lost Days, Open Skies and Streaming Tides is filled with prime examples.

On Confluence though, Munk sticks to one precept. That being minimalist, surreal, ambient soundscapes. There’s only so many ways to describe this type of ambient music as there are no beats, measures or time signatures. Slumberous timbres that ebb and flow, undulating waves that crest but never crash, and slowly shifting waves of hypnotic tones could all be used to describe the aural sculptures heard on Confluence.

Manual’s 3rd ambient album, following both 2003’s The North Shore and Bajamar from 2006, is simplistic, yet imaginative as the open and atmospheric pieces are centered around soft guitar lines that are stretched, shaped and formed through electronic processes, effectively creating moods that can be both disquieting and peaceful. But instead of filling the open spaces with shoegazing guitar swirls and experimental sound effects, Munk allows his creations to breathe and take on a life of their own by adding and subtracting layers of ethereal sonic textures, forming shadowy soundtracks to mysterious worlds.

Confluence is an excellent album of sublime, celestial soundscapes that can be enjoyed as subtle background music, but closer listening will reveal rich and emotional musical daydreams.

No Age – Washington – Black Cat, DC – 2008-11-12

It was a cold night and an odd bill. Five bands/DJs decidedly split into dance and indie-rock camps. Abe Vigoda and No Age represented the rock side of things.

Abe Vigoda, in case you couldn’t tell from the name, don’t take themselves too seriously. The band members do take their music seriously, however, and they came to have fun and to rock. The band’s unconventional songs translated well to the live setting because they center on a kind of manic energy that works best on stage.

Despite there not being a single standard backbeat on the whole new LP or in the live set, Abe Vigoda made people move. The stoicism of the front-and-center bass player was countered by the frenetic playing of the guitarist/singers flanking him. The between-song banter brought levity to everything the band did, proving that the band was here to have fun and enjoy the show. No posturing.

In case you haven’t heard the band’s music, it’s all off-kilter rhythms and discordant churning guitars, like early Oxford Collapse crossed with Ponytail basically. Really good, original, artistic stuff, and especially good to see in concert.

After a DJ set, No Age took the stage. By this time the crowd had thickened quite a lot and the audience seemed to know the band’s material. There was moshing to the duo’s short bursts of noise (songs). Perhaps the most interesting bits of No Age’s set were the ambient guitar interludes, where it became clear that the band’s talent doesn’t stop at Minuteman-length strafing. While these breaks gave the active audience members a chance to catch their collective breath, they gave a glimpse into the other directions No Age’s guitarist may take in future releases.

Hearts Of Palm UK – For Life

The heart of the California band Hearts Of Palm UK is Erica Elektra, who, along with collaborators Frankie Rose, Jamie Kaye, and Dan Horne, deliver a debut album filled with songs that smoothly flow from one to the other, creating a gently percolating, upbeat vibe that is balanced by bittersweet, introspective lyrics, and Erica’s sweetly mellow vocals.

The album was mastered in Sweden by Henrik Jonsson who has worked with bands like Peter, Bjorn & John, Camera Obscura, and The Concretes. Like those bands, Hearts Of Palm UK has a light, soft, intricate sound that is built from a variety of instrumentation including an array of keyboards, drums, guitars, and strings. Erica takes on the themes of romantic relationships and self-identity with direct, affecting lyrics and a warm, but oftentimes wistful tone.

While some of Erica’s song lyrics are pure blissful sunshine in relation to love and purpose in life, it’s not all dreamy doodles of hearts and flowers. There’s heartbreak and thundershowers too. Many of the lyrics have a melancholic edge, like on “So Long” which sports the aching pull of the words “Life is hard. / I’m doing my best / but is it good enough? / Days keep going forward / without me.” The lyrics speak to an emotional turmoil most people face every day, a running commentary on the ups and downs in relationships and of being uncertain about one’s place in the world.

Buoyant, catchy, perky beats and blips and flitting, snappy clicks and clacks are subtly contrasted with the undercurrent of rumbling keyboard and bass line and short-phrase, sing-talking lyrics about conflicted emotions and having to say goodbye. On the song “People & Logistics” Erica wonders why her “Feelings are unclear. / I don’t understand / what makes them so. / How come I’m happy / – and then I come crashing down?” amid a blend of woodwind and harp-like notes, strings, and a clicking beat.

Squiggly keyboard notes, bell tones, a handclap beat, and bubbling sounds accompany the smooth, longing chorus of “…so I flow / chasing…dreams… / Where will the wind / take me?” on the tune “I Flow”. Erica questions the commitment of a loved one on “Portugal”, asking “What if I were to drop everything? / Would you follow me?” against a skittering beat, attenuated, spacey organ notes, and the bright ting of bells.

For all of the lyrics that focus on feelings of uncertainty and melancholy (like the lyrics of “Trust”: “It’s a scary world out there… / what if I lose myself? / What if you find yourself / where you are?”), there are also certain songs that convey a belief in romantic love, like on the hazy, high-school-crush song “Jonathan FMF” where Erica sings in a sweet, comforting tone “I’m so happy to spend my life beside you. / I love, love, love, love you.” with a laid-back tambourine beat, cymbal shimmer, and delicate tinkling music box notes that impart the blissful feeling of being in love.

Facing New York – Get Hot

Despite the name, Facing New York is from California. The band is a three/four/five-piece (yes, lineup changes), standard guitar-bass-drums alt-rock group that’s more French Kicks than Green Day, so maybe that helps account for the name.

Get Hot mixes up styles a good bit. While there are obvious rock touchpoints, there are funk and punk influences bouncing around in the sound. There’s the Aloha-like “How Gong I’m Gonna Be Lawn,” with its delicate pop guitar work and vibraphone-like tones, for one. “Gesture” ups the heavy-rock quotient (Bonham drums, power chords) for parts and then retreats to a swinging bridge before hitting hard again for a bass-driven ending. The band’s playing is fluid no matter what genre it’s trying its hand at. “Comin Up” takes 70s keyboards and throws them into a syncopated, varied pop cocktail that’s got a serious Doobie Brothers inflection. It sounds like they took a 1977 pop hit and just messed with it.

And then what do you make of a track like “Cops On Bikes”? It’s satire, for sure: “When your testing was done / They wouldn’t give you a car / So they hand you a gun / Right on.” But it’s played to a minimal funk rhythm that veers back into 70s rock territory in some alien ways. It’s a crazy hybrid that you can’t quite pin down. Ethereal to dance to rock to whatever else the band members feel like playing, this disc cannot be pigeonholed. And the crazy thing is that none of it seems forced, and that testifies to the players’ musical talents.

No matter what blend of influences has a hold on a given song, the singing consistently hits the mark. Sometimes it’s more spoken-word/near-rap than singing, and in this respect it’s natural that the band would cite Dismemberment Plan as musical kin. “Me N My Friendz” indicts the hipster lifestyle in a style almost identical in delivery to Dismemberment Plan’s “Ice of Boston.” However, the aforementioned “Gesture” may be the only song to really rock the way Dismemberment Plan could rock.

The whole affair would be a disjointed mess were the varied approaches atomic per song, but somehow every approach comes together in every song. Sounds impossible, but that’s what we’ve got here.

Fennesz – Black Sea

It’s been quite some time since we’ve gotten a proper album from Christian Fennesz. Black Sea is the Austrian musician’s first solo full-length in four years. Known for his ability to transform gorgeous guitar melodies into industrial strength noise meltdowns via the use of a combination of analog guitar pedals and digital signal processing, Black Sea is no exception. The album manages to distill the best elements of his last two full-lengths, 2004’s Venice and 2001’s Endless Summer, into a cohesive sound that remains completely his own while forging ahead into new territory. Depending on what volume you play it at, the album can be subtly beautiful or unforgiving and brutal.

Black Sea begins with series of gurgling electronics and guitar that slowly recedes to reveal a gentle acoustic passage. Over the course of its ten minute time frame, “Black Sea” manages to encompass nearly all of the hallmarks of Fennesz’ albums to date. It has the pastoral beauty of Venice, the surprising electro-acoustic transitions of Endless Summer, and the harsh electronics of Hotel Paral.lel. Which is to say that if you’ve enjoyed Fennesz’ work up to this point that you will not be disappointed with Black Sea. The album adds other elements including more strings than previous releases and extended compositions in opposition to more direct song forms. “The Colour of Three” incorporates the prepared piano of Anthony Pateras to add an element of syncopation to Fennesz’ usually untethered compositions. “Perfume For Winter” sounds constructed as if trying to reproduce the effect of a spray bottle. Over a bed of synth tones Fennesz chokes out several blasts of melodic static before the piece stabilizes.

The absolute highlight of Black Sea is “Glide,” a collaboration with New Zealand sound artist Rosy Parlane. The piece combines the monstrous talents of both artists in a live setting to create a wall of sound. It was beefed up with string sections in post-production by Fennesz to create a distinct texture that sounds like My Bloody Valentine playing a Schoenberg composition. The track’s nine minutes and twenty two seconds are filled with super distorted guitar tones married to distended string swoops.

Over the course of the album’s 52 minutes, the eight tracks reveal a brilliance in construction. It all culminates in the finale, “Saffron Revolution.” The piece is a brief, airy song full of glassy guitar notes that slowly unwind. The final moments sound like chimes clinking in a breeze. It ends Black Sea on a note that sounds as if Fennesz is finally letting go of all the trouble that may have plagued him in the four years it’s taken to produce a follow-up to Venice. If this album is any indication, he’s still got a lot of tricks up his sleeve. If you’re down with music that’s as challenging as it is rewarding, Black Sea will be some of the finest music you hear in 2008.

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