Redhooker – Vespers

The struggle of bridging the gap between classical music and pop music has always been a finicky one. Classical music, old and well-revered in nature, is a form of music that can easily turn people on or off. And pop music has advanced and grown that its definition could never, honestly, be described. In order for a song to be considered a song, it must contain at least some kind of melody right? And with that, we get into the classically-tinged ambience that clouds itself onto Redhooker’s Vespers.

Most of the time, when you think about classical music, you picture these kinds of flourishing alive themes that circle strings, horns and percussion into one ball of working music. But for Stephen Griesgraber and Maxim Moston, their brand of classical music is detailed, careful and most of all, calculated. For it’s their own quartet of two violins, a clarinet and an electric guitar that fashions an overtly foreboding experience of gaze and hallucination.

Wrapped in between lines of ominous building is some of the most divisive music you’ll find in the classical spectrum. “Black Light Poster Child” is a slow-moving, painstakingly dreary piece that drags and lags for an entire fourteen minutes. The scope is one of ambience and possibly even daydreaming; however, it could easily leave you cold and bitter wondering what exactly happened. Elsewhere, “Presence and Reflection” follows the same path, abandoning both violins for trepid atmospherics and a washing glaze of pedal tones. The clarinet creeps in for a few long tones and the guitar buzzes a wave-y line but for the most part, it’s all free-form and no structure. It isn’t until the very end that the guitar delivers the reflection, a brisk line that calls the violin back in with exceptional skill.

Those two pieces, as standalone works, will either make or break Vespers for many listeners. Personally, the former could just as easily been left off and deleted without anyone ever missing it. The latter, with its rousing ending is the work of a quartet fleshing out onto new horizons. Darkly mattered and covered at first, it turns into a breakthrough of surrender. Maturity and growth is such a difficult thing to gauge but Redhooker seem to know just how to temper it all.

Moston’s leading violin on “Bedside” calls the band to his side, fearlessly leading down passing tones back and forth from the tonic to the dominant. Minor in demeanor, the music recalls a plaintive state of thought, where music was left for open analysis. But the quartet never sounds as good as it does on “Friction.” Aptly titled, the violins trade looming chords before the guitar’s menacing melody enters and quickly signals a triple meter of diminished chords, along with violin plucking reminiscent of Andrew Bird. The composers are in fine form with each of Griesgraber’s pieces shining brighter than the rest.

A part of me wishes we were gifted eight different kinds of “Friction”s and another part understands that the ambience side of it adds texture and diversity. Then again, when you’re as talented as this set of musicians, you should be expanding and growing with every new release. Vespers isn’t going to immediately latch on to you and it will surely require repeated listens but it all comes back to how much you invest into it.

Chemikal Underground Records

15 years is a long time in the music world. In 1995, it was possible to argue that indie music was undergoing one of its periodic lows, at least in the UK. Britpop had conquered the mainstream, the best known bands of that moment all owed their success to the intervention of major labels or, like Creation, had found themselves promoted to major status. And as the first real wave of net releases and pro-tool generated bands began to make their presence felt, it really might’ve looked like not exactly the end of the 500 copy, hand drawn sleeve, 7″ vinyl entirely independent single release, but there was certainly a very new kind of competition around for anyone wanting to do things entirely their own way.

And 15 years on from the very first release on Chemikal Underground, it’s impossible to argue that the bands and individuals behind the Glasgow based label have simply been lucky, insofar as they’ve managed to not only stay in the business but to build an international reputation with bands such as Mogwai, Arab Strap and some of their side projects, and who could really forget Bis, whose “Candy Pop” single made the charts in 1998 and are probably the band who really deserve the credit for putting Chemikal Underground fully onto the musical map. For much of this time though, the main headline act at CU was The Delgados, whose “Monica Webster” single was the first actual CU release and who were a quite formidable live act in their heyday. I myself actually saw them perform on three separate occasions, in 1999, 2003 and 2004, and while their live shows might’ve been hugely impressive, criticism of their Great Eastern album was based around the idea that it didn’t quite capture the band at their very best. So, Flaming Lips producer Dave Fridmann stepped in to work on its follow up, and 2002′s Hate is one of the best Scottish albums of the last decade and perhaps of one or two others. One other US connection involves the mighty Interpol, whose first EP was released on the CU associated Fukd ID label, and we all know what happened to them. But of all the actual Chemikal Underground bands it is unquestionably Mogwai who have made the greatest impression on music fans across the world, greatly influential and sorely missed by aficianados of epic guitar instrumentation everywhere. So, 15 years on from those very first releases, Chemikal Underground can give themselves a justifiably satisfied pat on the back, and while neither The Delgados or Mogwai are around right now, 2010 is looking very much like the year when the label confounds its critics and naysayers entirely, with a string of releases from some quite formidable new talents.

The most immediately attention catching of these is Zoey Van Goey’s The Cage Was Unlocked All Along, a collection of tuneful old-school indie pop from a trio of Clydeside hipsters whose influences are as eclectic as their imaginations will allow for. They are however very much a product of now, as opposed to then, and it’s possible to detect the influence of Vampire Weekend, The Magic Numbers, and more noticeably fellow Scots acts such as King Creosote, perhaps even Travis and the Dykeenies but Zoey Van Goey remain very refreshingly themselves throughout. The trio switch with ease from jaunty 60s influenced guitar pop such as “We Don’t Have That Kind Of Money”, the downbeat electronica of “We All Hid In Basements”, the near-eccentric countrified folk of “Cotton Covering” and continually display a level of invention that always bodes well for a bands first album. Chemikal Underground’s undeclared yet obvious intention to produce the definitive Scots indie pop album is more than one step nearer its highly satisfactory conclusion.

The one band currently on the Chemikal roster which not only references the work of Mogwai but also takes their instrumental explorations several stages onward are The Unwinding Hours, partly a side project involving members of long time Chemikal stalwarts Aerogramme. These are post-rock expotentialists at simultaneously their least abrasive and most euphoric, epic guitar symphonies that begin in the most unobtrusive forms and build into moments of surreal grandeur. And unusually for a band choosing to explore the limits of ambient sound forms, The Unwinding Hours are also actual songwriters, and their soaring, distorted landscapes contain softer, more unexpectedly muted edges. Much more developed than just expressions of glacial machine waveforms, these songs are at once both melancholic and celebratory, and combine with the instrumentation to some quite devastating effect across the 10 tracks on this self titled debut release.

Dublin-based Adrian Crowley’s Season Of The Sparks probably began as a more folk influenced collection of songs, but through its studio process has taken on the attributes of an understated yet fully realised work of near symphonic grandeur, while remaining near to its roots in Crowley’s own acoustic songwriting. The sound is lush yet never overbearing, and Crowley’s songwriting reveals an accomplished lyricist able to make the very best of his music, and the skills of his backing band realise his vision with clarity and also the kind of invention that makes for a quite remarkable listening experience. Redolent of folk rock, psychedelia, combining traditional instrumentation and Crowley’s own near-confessional wordage, the result is a work of some considerable originality and also one in which it’s possible to trace influences as disparate as Al Stewart, Tom Paxton, The Doors and perhaps even 70s progressive rock such as Yes and Tangerine Dream. This, we should hope, is only a first introduction to a quite remarkable and consistently innovative performer.

I haven’t yet the completed sleeve art for Emma Pollocks’ The Law Of Large Numbers, and indeed I’ve no way of guaranteeing that the promo copy I’ve recieved is in fact the final mix of the album, but this is a very minor complaint. As one half of the creative partnership, alongside Alun Woodward, that made The Delgados the consistently challenging and wilfully unconventional experience they were both live and on CD, the 12 tracks presented here are very much a continuation of The Delgados’ body of work, as well as an assertion of Pollock’s own abilities as a songwriter/keyboardist. Starting with “Hug The Harbour”, this is as good an introduction to the Chemikal Underground world as anyone yet unfamiliar with the label and its roster might wish for. The Delgado’s trademark verging-on-chaotic rhythmic structures make a slightly overdue return as also does the dark subtelties of Emma Pollocks’ vocal and it’s quite apparent as to why these musicians were able to attract production talent of the calibre of Dave Fridmann, and others, to their Hamilton studios. Understated and quirky in equal measures, The Law Of Large Numbers might not quite reach the audience it deserves, but that has never stopped Chemikal Underground from releasing the best music they are able to, and 2010 really does look like the year in which the label re-asserts itself as a creative force in today’s independent music world.

www.chemikal.co.uk

New album from Venus Bogardus in February

Spitting at the Glass is the third album from acclaimed trans-atlantic post punk trio Venus Bogardus, and the band’s first new release on New York’s five03 records. The album showcases the band’s talent for weaving cathartic tension out of no-wave noise, pop overtones and remarkable lyrical sensibility. Spitting at the  Glass, with its played-live essence, more completely reflects the improvisational, free-noise influences suggested by the band’s previous releases, finally capturing the raw poetic power of Venus Bogardus live.

Venus Bogardus formed in England in late 2005, and relocated to the US in March of 2009, where the band continues to garner glowing reviews and a new, broadening audience. The album release and tour are set to coincide with the west coast debut of ‘The Beebo Brinker Chronicles’ stage play (San Francisco, Brava theatre) based on the book from which the band derived its name.

Release Info:

FEB 9, 2010: 13-track CD (digipack) & download
DEC 12, 2009: Judy Davis Lips digital single
LABEL: FIVE03 RECORDS

TRACKS: 1. judy davis lips (4:53) 2. flat planes (explicit) (3:21) 3.  scatter (3:43) 4. ghostmouth (4:26) 5. permanent notice (6:22) 6. the spectrum (2:19) 7. spitting at the glass (2:45) 8. gulf of mexico (3:26) 9. mouth to hand (2:53) 10. from here to eternity (3:34) 11. exiles (4:44) 12. brett smiley pile-up (18:07) 13. flat planes (radio edit) (3:22) ******CREDITS & INSTRUMENTATION: All songs  by Reich/Levbarg/Carr copyright © 2009 Venus Bogardus all rights reserved. James Reich: guitar/vocals; Hannah Levbarg: bass guitar/vocals; Luke Carr: drums

Official Site: www.venusbogardus.com

The Album Leaf – A Chorus of Storytellers

“If it ain’t broke don’t fix it” doesn’t really work in the business of making records. Music consumers expect musicians to improve and take their music to the next level in a forward progression. So bands strive hard to find a balance between the familiar sounds that attracted fans in the first place and the evolution to a new, and hopefully better sound. Achieving this delicate balance is what has allowed The Album Leaf to survive for 10 years, 5 albums and a string of EPs.

A Chorus of Storytellers has everything a fan wants in a new album, the familiar and the evolution. The familiar comes in the bright, contemplative tones and the gorgeously sublime and meditative orchestrations comparable to those found on previous releases. The evolution comes with more prominent vocals and a new approach to the recording process. In a shift from previous records, where leader and multi-instrumentalist Jimmy LaValle played and recorded everything, A Chorus of Storytellers was recorded live with the other band members. This new strategy provides an added richness and a more human quality that helps shape the cinematic soundscapes into distinctive songs.

Most of the tracks are instrumentals that start with a soft-spoken, sauntering beat and an atmospheric dream-pop sound courtesy of crystal clear and ringing keyboard tones. They slowly evolve with added layers and delicate swells of lush, orchestrated melodies until the listener is engulfed in a soothing and shimmering swirl of sound. Sweetly melancholic strings and Icelandic horn arrangements adorn the resonating rhythms. The vocal tracks are similar but start with a more pronounced beat, occasionally even a scratchy, trip-hop loop, and are colored with gorgeously layered and dreamy textures as the galloping beats and cymbal crashes transform these atmospheric pieces into hauntingly beautiful rock songs.

There’s always a danger that this type of music be construed as New-Age (not that there’s anything wrong with that), but The Album Leaf avoid the tag by taking both a classical and experimental approach to shaping compositions into emotional and colorful, yet engaging music, while skillfully blurring the boundaries between new-age, ambient and indie-rock.

www.thealbumleaf.com

www.subpop.com

CNC – No Mood

There is a foundation here, but No Mood just doesn’t work. The foundation is a synth heavy breed of psychedelic pop. The band, a Polish duo called CNC, takes a shoegazer’s approach to this music, slowing down the rhythms and mumbling vocals that disappear into the music. Problem is, these guys just don’t have the aesthetics down yet.

The title track is the EP’s best.  On “No Mood”, the obnoxiously loud synths instantly become mesmerizing, fatigued but blasting away. It’s a good, full sound, pouring out like a day-glo waterfall.

But, instead of expanding on this sound, CNC walk away from it. The “Plot Device” trinity is a waste of time, and the other three songs only relay nondescript versions of downer psych-pop–the kind of psych-pop in which synths become window dressing, and the drums, guitar, and bass guitar try in vain to engage each other.

It isn’t bad, necessarily. It just isn’t anything at all.

CNC ‘s Myspace
DRAW Records

Beach House – Teen Dream

A beach house is usually a vacation spot, where people can get together and rejoice in the tranquil feeling of being able to enjoy a lush home located next to sound of waves. The soothing sounds of the waves gently crashing against each other, the calming feeling in knowing that there is not a care in the world and getting lost in the dream is a splendid fixation. They’ve always been able to create music to pair with this feeling of nostalgia but Beach House has somewhat, in a way, perfected their dream pop with Teen Dream, an album that flows like the beach and cascades with lush melodies, harmonies and fantastic gentleness.

Their focus has always been in creating these kinds of convoluted hazy experiences whereby the music takes you to another location. And while their craftiness starts and ends with Victoria Legrand’s magnetic singing, it reaches farther than you’d expect. Isn’t it great when you can just feel that a band’s next album will be the highest of their career? News was delivered that they’d finally employ live drums (plus one,) that’d it be honed in to ten solidified tracks of exquisiteness (plus two,) and that it follows the same path but with a reflective look at the past (plus three.) By the time “Take Care” comes around to close the album – beckoning trance and all – Teen Dream’s excellence has already won you over.

One thing lacking on Devotion was a true sense of rhythm. While the album hit on all of the marks concerning sound, melodies and even ambience, there was a missing drive that could propel it forward. And even with that crux, it’d still go on to be a favorite simply because of the duo’s ability at creating towering moments like “Gila.” Although there isn’t anything nearly as good as that aforementioned song on Teen Dream it showcases upbeat moments like “Lover of Mine,” a surreal combination of organ, synth and fantastic drums.

But an album can be just as strong, or better, as its predecessor by favoring song after song of brilliance rather than one glowing jewel surrounded by music that will always pale in comparison. “Zebra” rivals everything Beach House has ever made, though, with a song that captures the sound of thriving horses running in the field. Not only is the concept ingenious but for the simple fact that when the synths enter it’s an amazing moment, by the time those aforementioned live drums show up your jaw’s on the floor.

“Used to Be” is the album’s game-changer with a piano that’s always battling to remain on the backend of the beat and a layering of instruments that’s downright masterful. Gradually adding a snare, a tambourine and a rushing amount of cymbal (that creepily resembles the sound of a rolling wave) the song’s crescendo is a superb moment. It’s the kind of moment which has earned the love and praise of people like Ed Droste and Julian Casablancas and with it occurring in the meat of the album, after a quartet of songs that leave you intrigued and wanting more, the song’s chiming melody immediately signals that there needs to be another captivating moment to deliver the album from what we’d consider ‘good’ to a greater role.

On “Silver Soul,” Legrand is found singing, “It is happening again.” And she couldn’t be more right because for the third album in a row, Beach House ushered in their unique sound with an album that never tires. However, Teen Dream is a step up and justifiably so, its expressional devotion towards good music shines all around like a radiant day at the beach.

“Norway” by Beach House

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Sub Pop

Etaoin Shrdlu – Mating Calls

Math-rock instrumentals: a mainstay of the fringe. Typically bands that choose this style of music end up impressing critics but have trouble finding audiences. Not always the case, but certainly very few ever become household names. Exercises in technical precision and unusual composition just don’t translate into accessibility.

Etaoin Shrdlu takes its name from the order-of-frequency with which letters are commonly used in the English language. The musical language that the band uses, however, is not common. Favoring mid-tempo post-rock with odd time signatures and frequent changes in direction, the band speaks in paragraph form. It also uses its share of punctuation, whether by guitar-neck slides (“Camera Flirtura”) or sharp cymbal accents (“Yow”). There’s probably a way to map the songs onto verbal discursions, as some songs feel like narratives and others feel like arguments. Speaking of “Yow,” the band does cite Jesus Lizard as an influence but it seems like it would be more fitting to have named a song after that band’s guitarist and not its singer. Just saying.

Some of the guitar playing hints at Battles. A lot of the rhythms get to tracks by Traindodge or Dropsonic, without the lyrics or quite the same intensity. The cut “1995-1997″ shows off the band’s versatility, swinging at times then breaking things down and getting a little more choppy, emphasizing unexpected offbeats or using other forms of syncopation. “Requisite” also swings a bit, as the songs in 3/3 time seem to do. “Brown Sabbath” again goes for a start-stop, jerky drums and bass combination where the guitars chug along over top of the noise.

Mating Calls will probably appeal more to musicians than to passive listeners. It’s a little nervous and twitchy, intentionally, and it goes for tension above resolution. It’s never over the top the way, say, Last of the Juanitas liked to do things. It’s almost polite in its assertions compared to its peers.

FAO#24: Robert A.A. Lowe & Rose Lazar, Scout Niblett & Tindersticks

Intimacy is a trait that comes in many different forms in musical realms.  Although it too often simply conjures up images of one person and an acoustic guitar, spooling themselves into lo-tech kit or sitting solitarily on a small club stage, intimacy is more about feeling and delivery than pure environmental settings.  It can find itself presented in both complexity and simplicity, via widescreen presentation as well as lo-fi production, with/without words, through rawness or lushness and within processed as much as organic recordings.  True artistic intimacy comes through making the viewer, listening or reader feel as if the creator is addressing them alone, as if no-one else on the planet is there to receive the message.  The three below albums consciously and unconsciously paint with various shades of intimacy, whilst using very different canvases.

Robert A.A. Lowe & Rose Lazar - Eclipses (Thrill Jockey, LP w/download-only)

Rameses III – I Could Not Love You More

Ambient music as a genre can have a lightness, an imperviousness to criticism. This album put me to sleep. This album just sort of drifts by, never asserting itself. This album requires patience. This album never knows where it’s going, and takes its time getting there. This album sounds like a bunch of one chord songs. In most any other genre, these statements would be fatal criticisms, but applied to ambient music, they could be seen as complimentary, depending largely on the mood of the listener and whether or not they “get” ambient music in the first place. I’ve been listening to the new Rameses III (read Rameses the Third) album I Could Not Love You More a ton for the last couple weeks, and it sounds great, but like Teflon, this stuff just won’t stick in my memory. I was having a hard time figuring out whether that’s a good or a bad thing, even as it seemed to be an impressively accomplished work. But with increasing familiarity came the realization that this music attempts a deeper representation, following musical rules and traditions less so than following a sort of metaphysical naturalism, leaving behind human time in the search of something far more immortal and everlasting.

Refreshingly, this album has a “played live” quality, eschewing digital manipulations for acoustic instrumentation (guitars and synths, and along the way a little bit of flute, brass, and strings), providing a warmth and calm which is soothing and realistic without being too enveloping or repetitive. Each movement seems a slight logical step from the one preceding it, and even though it has a performed quality, this performance feels more vessel-like than preplanned, the players acting merely as channels for some greater truth the Earth has to transmit about its own feelings. The music here is executed with an uncommon restraint and patience, and this lack of rush allows for a representation of eternal processes, durable, gentle, and faithful, not affected by the day-to-day problems that humans find themselves consumed with. Subsequently there is a distance and above-ness which brings a feeling of tranquility and serenity, an escape from the minutiae of an Earthly existence without removing oneself from the planet’s deeper beauty and mystery.

“No Water, No Moon” is the real highlight here, distinct enough to be memorable and, through restraint, maintaining an ambiance even though it is built from more traditional-sounding elements: an acoustic guitar pattern, a moaning slide guitar, and a plucky banjo. It hazes out in the middle for a field recording solo of sorts, the sounds of birds and water along coastline, before picking back up where it left off for a coda. It straddles the line of suggestiveness lacking in a lot of ambient music, and gives the album a deeper connection to real life.

In the end, I would say this album is dreamlike in the sense that when it’s over, you know you just experienced something special, but can’t really remember the details unless you consciously try to. The thing is, you don’t feel a big loss for not remembering. Why would you? You can cue up this audio dreamland anytime you want and relive it. And after all, it’s the experience while listening to ambient music which is important, not what it means after the fact.

Rameses III

Type Records

Mark Matos & Os Beaches- Words of the Knife

The guy on the cover looks just like Carlos Boozer from the Utah Jazz. And Mark Matos & Os Beaches sounds just like Wilco! I’m exaggerating a little bit, but Matos and his mates sound an awful lot like Summerteeth-era Wilco, even right down to vocals and delivery (akin to Tweedy’s melancholy croon). The only difference is Matos adds in a couple of Spanish tracks. The best example of musical infringement is “High Priest of the Mission.” Listen to that song and tell me that doesn’t sound like Wilco to a tee. If you played it around your musically-aware friends, they’d probably ask if Wilco had a new song out, I guarantee that.

This is the issue, though, and it’s that the songs are good. I can’t really point to anything Matos & Os Beaches do inferior to Wilco. Lyrics? Similar. Musically? Both bands are talented at the alt-country instrumentation. Tweedy isn’t any catchier of a frontman than Matos, partly because they both sing in similar fashion. Downtrodden melodies behind alt-country music isn’t going to vary that much, so it doesn’t sound that Tweedy has any better “songcraft” ability. And if you remember, Summerteeth was really, really good and a critical darling. It seems a little troubling that the sound of that beloved album can be replicated so easily. I can’t just throw the “just listen to Wilco” tag instead because Wilco doesn’t sound any better! Sure, you could cast Matos off as a Wilco rip-off and a wannabe, but it seems different than trying to be somebody else and then actually doing it. My best rational explanation is that “Summer Teeth,” How to Fight Loneliness,” and “My Darling” are all still better songs than anything on Words of the Knife.

So yes, at their best Matos is only an average Summerteeth song, and maybe that makes the balance of everything okay. If you’re a Wilco fan and you feel like Matos is cutting in on your boys, then pass them over because you won’t hear anything that sounds fresh anyway. If you like how Wilco sounds and don’t really care about the ethics of this whole thing, then check out Mark Matos & Os Beaches because you’ll find a lot of expertly done alt-country music lying within.

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