> Archive
"Lovely Noise"
Jan 17, 2006
"Glad You Were Born" is the debut for England's Heliconia, and a welcome one at that. Odds are you haven't yet heard of the London-area trio, but with this release they should be well on their way to grabbing your attention and not letting go. Featuring a dynamic and tasteful mix of neo and classic shoegaze, Heliconia are primed to make a big step into the face of modern music.
Heliconia display an incredibly full sound (especially for a three-piece), and an impressive feel for dynamics. Check the layered, crashing refrain of album centerpiece "Witness" for evidence of this. The Verve is an obvious touchstone for the band (perhaps more accurately described "a healthy obsession"), although Heliconia brings a much harder-edged approach to the table. Also welcome in the mix is a dash of Sonic Youth, Swervedriver, and classic shoegaze make their way to the mix. Vocalist/guitarist Mike "Moth" Tickner sings like a gravel-voiced combination of Catherine Wheel's Rob Dickinson the Beta Band's Stephen Mason.
Opener "Marina" is a perfect introduction, starting out slowly with Neil Vestrini's sturdy bass work, leading into drummer Jon Lamont's frenetic drumming, surrounded by a swirling mélange of guitar effects and walls of distortion. It sounds like a song Autolux would have been proud to record. Second track "Felt Like Iron" could have come straight out of the Verve catalog, which is not at all a bad thing. The thick guitars of "Invincible" are another highlight. The middle of the album turns more introspective with "Girl I Need You", which is quite a departure, featuring tasty piano, samples, and gorgeous female vocals from Heidi. "Beatdown" is a most appropriate closer, featuring the best of the Verve and Catherine Wheel fleshing out the band's own dynamic style in one stunning package.
Produced by erstwhile Pat Collier (House of Love, Primal Scream) and being released on Isolation Records, "Glad You Were Born" should bring the band some of the attention and respect they so richly deserve.
"Gentle Wave"
Aug 24, 2005
Before Melissa Etheridge became a glossy sellout to Adult
Contemporary radio, she had the rawness and artistic integrity
that Lorraine Devon Wilke, former leader of the obscure
Los Angeles group Devon, showcases here. Perhaps it’s
the difference between being a major-label musician and
one that is on her own. No matter. This is the album that
I’ve been waiting Etheridge to do since I saw her
blast through the Grammy Awards begging for water in the
late ‘80s. Much of the material here is confessional;
Wilke has a melancholy streak or at least she’s been
through enough rocky relationships that left towering bruises
on her heart. There’s pain in her lyrics, real pain:
In “It’s Not Over,” she asks, “Would
you step over a heart left on the floor?” Wilke doesn’t
restrain herself from expressing the hurt inside. “Drowning,”
for example, is merciless; there is no silver lining here
at all. “Maybe this one will be the one to stay/The
one who sees behind her eyes/But when he leaves without
ever noticing/She reaches out to emptiness and cries,”
Wilke sings as the story concludes. Her bluesy delivery,
carrying the weight of a lifetime’s worth of romantic
disappointment, films her tales in DVD clarity images. One
can almost see these tracks forming a feature film. The
heroine struggles through the aches of failure and disillusionment
until she finally meets Mr. Right in “My Good Good
Man.” Since most of today’s music is geared
towards kids, it’s such a rewarding experience to
hear a record as mature and ultimately uplifting as this.
Lyrics aside, Wilke has top-of-the-line backing musicians
who capture the sparks in her words. Indeed, this is almost
like a band effort than a solo album. However, it is Wilke
who stands tall at the end. Having suffered through a trail
of dashed hopes, she does find true love at the end. There’s
nothing sugarcoated about it, either. Wilke keeps it real,
presenting Life As We Know It with no artificial sweeteners.
"The roof, the roof, ..."
July 29, 2005
Following up a Shoe’s Music #1 album is never an
easy task. NYC’s Longwave tackles the job admirably,
if slightly unevenly, on their third full-length release,
There’s a Fire. One somewhat unfortunate development
is that three of the tunes have appeared previously in some
form or other. The title track could be heard as an acoustic
track on 2004’s Life of the Party EP, but here it
receives fresh blood with full-band treatment, which serves
it well. ‘We’re Not Gonna Crack’ is another
Life leftover, and it’s punky feel doesn’t really
fit into the flow of the album whatsoever. ‘Next Plateau’
is an oldie, and could have been left off without a second
thought.
‘Tell Me I’m Wrong’ is the undoubtedly
poppiest thing the band has written; fortunately that’s
a good thing. It’s well done and a welcome addition.
‘River (Depot Song)’ is a bigtime centerpiece,
featuring some searing vocals from everything-man Steve
Schlitz, as well as some nice atmospheric keyboard work
(something which has rarely appeared in past Longwave recordings).
‘The Flood’ is a slow-moving winner, which,
despite perhaps relying too much on odd electronic noises,
is a pleasant departure from the noisier tracks around it.
On ‘Underworld’, Schlitz continues a recent
and unusual preoccupation with his own average falsetto.
Let me say that I find it rather off-putting and leave it
at that. ‘Dancing in the Light’ is a pretty
instrumental, but probably could have been taken a lot farther.
‘Down In Here’ sounds like a decent Kid A/Amnesiac
outtake, while closer ‘Underneath You Know the Names’
finishes the album on a high note.
Fans of Shoe’s Music are well aware of my love for
neo-shoegaze rock, such as that perpetuated by Longwave.
There’s a Fire does not let me down in this regard,
although the band certainly takes more leftfield turns and
unusual arrangements this time…not to mention that
there is little on this album this is “classically”
shoegaze. Still, it’s a fine addition and a welcome
injection of noisepop to an otherwise lackluster summer
of music.
"Gentle Wave"
June 16, 2005
Once in a while a rock critic will be surprised by a promo
CD – and I’m not just talking about the quality
of the record, either. In the case of Arlene Hattori, I
had pegged her album as the kind of female singer/songwriter
folk that suddenly became marketable a decade ago with Jewel
and her contemporaries. Not even close. Finding Myself Again
is, instead, in the vein of ‘80s New Wave along the
lines of the much-missed Kirsty MacColl. By New Wave I don’t
mean the slashing guitars of frenzied post-punk grandchildren
like Bloc Party or Franz Ferdinand; rather, Hattori would’ve
fit in Oglio Records’ Flashback Café CDs from
a number of years ago. Hattori operates within the mellow,
soothing side of the genre. True to its roots, Hattori incorporates
numerous styles – disco, soul, vintage R&B –
within its New Wave framework just like so many British
groups did in the good ol’ days. Finding Myself Again
is one of those rare LPs with no filler; every song is stitched
together with warmth and a strong feel for hooks
"Sweet, No Sour"
June 16, 2005
Maybe it’s because they’re from Canada, but
the RadioSirens have a lyrical edge that one doesn’t
get from their American counterparts. This female vocal
trio is not quite what they seem on the surface. True, the
music and the singing is pretty, especially recommended
to listeners of Adult Contemporary radio. But don’t
expect any saccharine balladry a la Titanic on this debut
album. The melancholic tunes here, namely “Secret
Sadness,” “All There Is,” “Broken
Beyond,” and “One Kiss Too Late,” have
surprising depth. Credit has to go to Jenny Tarof for venturing
beyond the call of duty, giving listeners much more to chew
on than they expected. The highlight of the album is “Castles
in the Sky,” which deals with escaping from pain.
While it doesn’t scale the heights of the Colourfield’s
1985 classic “Castles in the Air” (I doubt anything
ever will), the song is genuinely touching and uplifting.
"Embrace Your Inner 'Wave"
June 1, 2005
People seem to have a guilt complex when it comes to admitting
a preference for certain ‘80s New Wave artists. Of
course, this isn’t case with New Wave fans that have
no problems with walking in public in a Depeche Mode T-shirt.
But for the most part the synthesizer brotherhood from the
NW family often gets tossed in the “guilty pleasures”
category as if listening to Bronski Beat or the Human League
is equal to watching Jerry Springer or downloading Asian
porn. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, the electronic
pop group Moonlife seem to be saying on their album cover,
proudly garbed in glam and gothic threads that scream totally
‘80s (and also late ‘70s). Well, their self-confidence
is understandable; you, too, would have your head up after
releasing one of the year’s best albums.
Reach the Stars is a seamless flow of keyboard wizardry,
as catchy as the latest New Order CD but even more classic
sounding. This is authentic New Wave, synthesized dance
music with a British lineage and club-ready rhythms. This
is a trio that has absorbed the aroma of import 12”
mixes and gotten high from the fumes. Inhale the ‘80s,
my friends – don’t fight the you-spin-me-round
vinyl glow of “Can’t Stop” and “Yesterday,
Today, Tomorrow.” Sit back and let it envelope your
senses working overtime. And when lead singer Claudio Tinnirello
lowers his tone on “Cruel,” it’s gripping,
the sound of heartache in agonizing slow motion, keyboards
dripping with real tears.
"Rock On"
June 1, 2005
Alternative rock still breathes, and Fivestar Riot continues
to pump blood in its heart. This is not the kind of album
that’ll score you hip points with the college elite;
rather, if there was a border between “alternative
music” and “modern rock,” Fivestar Riot
would fall into the latter camp. This a group of kids who
are obviously aiming for commercial FM radio with this five-tune
EP, and most of it probably will land on a couple of stations,
namely “Mischief and Mayhem” and “Better.”
Charles Cote has the kind of boy-next-door vocals that young
girls go crazy for, and the band really knows how to play
as the songs flow in that easily recognizable ‘90s
mid-tempo style, layered thick guitars and forceful drums
pushing each cut forward. It sure won’t set fire to
the world and critics who have no appreciation for the ‘90s
will find little to admit liking. But, as Pearl Jam once
sang, “This is not for you.”
"Back to Mine"
June 1, 2005
After all a long day in the office, tempers flaring, the
hot sun boiling an egg on my head, there’s nothing
like being treated to a record as soothingly soulful as
this. The market for acoustic rock is certainly becoming
a crowded one, but make room for Cas Lucas because this
is a special talent. I am not aware of the technical fingering
that is required to navigate the strings on a guitar so
pardon me if I can only remain in awe from a distance. Listening
to Lucas swim through the delicate chords on this LP is
akin to watching a flower bloom: You don’t know what’s
happening inside the plant so you just sit there, mesmerized.
I can listen to this album for endless hours, let the heavy
weight of reality cascade from my shoulders and slip into
the aural comforts of “Feelin’” and “Dream
a Window,” the opening – and finest –
tracks on this wonderfully engaging CD.
"Danger, Danger"
May 4, 2005
So it's come to this. One of the greatest songwriters of
his generation, Roddy Woomble, has been reduced to an overstock
version of himself. Chock full of terrific harmonies, but
underwhelming melodies, Scotland's finest band's 4th full-length
is a tepid affair with it's primary feature being a distinct
lack of rocking. It's pleasant enough, but that's certainly
not what you're looking for on an Idlewild record. Could
this be the same band that gave us one of the great albums
of the decade in 100 Broken Windows? Frankly it sounds more
like the Goo Goo Dolls than Idlewild.
Album opener and first single 'Love Steals Us From Loneliness'
is as good as it gets, which is basically a relatively silly
tune that grows on you slightly. 'Disconnected’ includes
not only drum machine, but fucking steel guitar!? Wow, I
really can't believe I'm hearing this. Closer 'Goodnight'
and its following hidden track should have gone to bed earlier.
'Too Long Awake'..ugh, the list goes on.
‘The Space Between All Things’ is the closest
they get to rocking out, but it still feels hollow. The
big harmonies are there, but there's no real edge. 'I Want
a Warning' suffers from the same problems, trying to sound
big and loud, but it's just pissing in the wind.
Woomble has always been obtuse with his lyrics, but this
time they tend to fall on the side of just plain dumb, especially
the titles. I keep hoping this record will grow on me, a
la their previous, The Remote Part, but I've given up at
last. Whatever the problem was, band members leaving (original
bassist and band heart Bob Fourfold), people growing up
(Woomble?), too many cooks in the kitchen (all members of
the band are credited with songwriting, including unnecessary
peripheral new members), the new material suffers badly
for it.
Bitterly disappointing in nearly every way.
"Danceteria"
May 4, 2005
Paul Luckey receives signals from other planets. That’s
the only explanation for the extraterrestrial dance music
on his new album. “Open up your imagination,”
sings Luckey on the title track as keyboards drip synthetic
ice cubes; the beats pound sensually, swirling between speakers,
evoking images of spiritual transcendence and sex. Many
have attempted resurrecting – or, worse yet, reinventing
– the computerized European disco of early ‘80s
new wave iconoclasts like Visage and Yello and failed with
embarrassing results. That’s not the case here. For
an out-of-body experience, listen to “Oh My Goddess”
on headphones. It’ll put you in a trance, synthesizers
swishing across an insistent club beat as Luckey’s
lovelorn vocals drift in and out of the mix. Unlike other
modern dance records, there are actual songs on this LP,
original new wave tunes given a 21st century makeover. It
reaches to the past while going back to the future.
"Radio Song"
May 4, 2005
Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: an unsigned
singer/songwriter releases an album that should be on commercial
radio across the nation. That is the story of Guy Michetti,
an award-winning pop rocker whose latest record is about
as FM-friendly as music gets. We live in a lazy, shallow
music world, one that champions violence and negative emotions
over optimism and a gentle pat on the back. Michetti’s
songs are tuneful and thoughtful at the same time, refreshingly
viewing love without a jaded eye (“She’s My
Only One”} and unafraid of paying an old-school homage
to his hometown (the post-9/11 “A New York City Life”).
This is not rock & roll that’ll cause scandals
or pioneer new sounds. It’s just rock & roll –
and it’s rock solid.
"Ignore at your own peril"
April 26, 2005
Oddly monikered East Coast 4-piece, Pitty Sing, at first
glance appear to be riding the coattails of the trendy 80’s
retropop scene. While it’s true that they have a bit
in common with the likes of The Killers and The Bravery,
there’s a lot more of The Stills in their sound. That
is to say, the band oozes sincerity, great songwriting,
and even significant guitar muscle.
I’m not sure that the opener “Prelude”
is really necessary..it’s kind of a sappy string-laden
affair that doesn’t seem to mesh with the rest of
the album; it really seems to be an overture. The good news
is that the few string sections in the later songs are done
so well that you hardly notice them. The first half of the
album is significantly more aggressive and guitar-heavy,
as the band takes a turn for the electro-pop on the second
half. Somehow it all seems to make sense.
Frontman Paul Holmes (Busted! The band claims to be from
NYC, although Holmes admittedly was born in and lived briefly
in Manchester; guess he could never quite shake the accent)
leaves no doubt that he’s a crooner at heart, and
a Brit-sounding one at that. He alternately sounds like
venerable Alphaville vocalist Marian Gold and Jim Kerr from
Simple Minds.
Charging onward, ‘Hanging On Me’ is a superb
actual opener, featuring all of what makes this band great;
that is, undeniable yet somewhat subtle hooks, good mix
of analog instrumentation and electronics, and terrific
vocals. Next track ‘Bleeding Hearts’ is destined
to be one of the top singles of ’05, a song that nails
the mix between digital flourishes and guitar slinging just
right. ‘CTWYL’ is a scorcher at track five,
then the band turns on the keyboards. ‘Fallen’
is a nice introduction to Part 2, while ‘Robots’
resembles The Faint, and ‘Telephone’ brings
to mind OMD and the aforementioned Simple Minds. Other than
the prelude and an untitled track near the end which seems
to be an exercise in voice effects, there isn’t a
lousy song on the album. Well, even I have to admit that
single 'Radio' is a tad silly (it's about, ahem, "fucking
on the radio").
Definitely prescribing to the recent 80’s “new
wave” influence, but adding more muscle and just darn
good songwriting chops. They’re hooky, yet lyrical,
and not over the top.
And if, like me, you’re wondering where the goofy
name came from, evidently it’s the title of a Flannery
O’Conner short story about an evil cat. Alrighty,
whatever floats your nomenclature.
"Star Light Star Brite"
April 26, 2005
It’s been a couple of years since the American Underground
has given birth to something artistically inventive. Sure,
the Killers and the Strokes are punchy fun, but they’re
not breaking any ground nor would I label them as “underground.”
After all, it’s not just about where an artist’s
roots are; since everybody starts at the bottom, even Billy
Joel could’ve been tagged as “underground,”
correct? Sunny So Brite is underground. This little band
creates cerebral rock that you’d expect to be issued
from New York or Seattle and not from Hicksville. Reminiscent
of Sunny Day Real Estate, Sunny So Brite weaves spells of
melodic disharmony, especially on the first few cuts from
this album. None of it makes sense on initial spins; even
after a couple of listens, the picture is only slightly
clearer, but no matter. The songs sound great, and that’s
what matters. Narcotic riffs create dizzying rides of guitar
ecstasy. There’s apparently a political context to
these tunes, especially when you read the titles. Frankly,
I couldn’t make out much of the lyrics. Forget trying
to decipher the words. Just plug in your earphones and trip,
baby.
"It Came from the 80's"
April 21, 2005
It’s about time somebody wrote a song about the ‘80s.
Oops, Bowling for Soup already did with the characteristically
goofy “1985.” Well, it may be following in the
footsteps instead of being the first, but Barry Russo’s
“Child of the 80s” is actually funnier and more
poignant. Considering that it’s only available on
a self-released album, “Child of the 80s” won’t
have the big-budget promotional bucks to acquire the exposure
that Bowling for Soup did.
Then again, who knows?
“Child of the 80s” accurately paints the early
‘80s with wild colors – jumpy analog keyboards,
vocal hiccups, talk-sung verses, and lyrical references
to new wave bands, teen movies, and break dancing. It’s
a roaring blast of rock-lobster adolescent innocence, and
after playing it for the first time I had to stop the CD
and dust off of my Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet, and Heaven
17 12” singles.
Surprisingly, Russo’s musical palate is more diverse
and contemporary. He is a thoughtful Triple-A musician with
a smooth, radio-friendly delivery and toe-tapping hooks
even when he’s not summoning the ‘80s. Check
out “Something About This Girl” and “Are
You Listening” for a taste of ‘80s-influenced
– but not really ‘80s-sounding – melodic
pop/rock.
"Take 2 of these.."
April 21, 2005
I’ll admit it: I viewed this CD with more than mild
skepticism. As open-minded as I try to be towards music,
there’s something about the neo-hippie jam sound of
Dave Matthews that grates me. Perhaps it’s my manic-depressive
nature that is rattled by the wholesome, feel-good nature
of it all.
From the cover, I expected to hate this record; shockingly,
I ended up being completely moved by it. If Matthews had
more lyrical depth and emotional sincerity, he’d sound
like Saul Kaye. While some of the acoustic strumming and
laidback rhythms may resemble Matthews’ work, the
songwriting is far stronger; Kaye is a gifted storyteller,
and this is more of a collection of short stories than folk-styled
grooves.
The characters that populate Doctor’s Orders are people
who’ve overcome or trying to leap over obstacles in
their lives, whether it’s the man who abandoned his
dreams for pop stardom in “Leave It All Behind”
or the man fighting his battle with the bottle in “Boxing
With Jim Beam.” These are slices of American life
one used to expect from Paul Simon – compelling stuff.
None of it is glum despite some sad subject matter as Kaye
presents himself as an observer; letting the listener feel
whatever emotions he or she wants to.
"Roots Rockin It"
April 21, 2005
If history is going to repeat itself, then it may as well
do it all the way.
Back in the ‘80s when new wave music was one of three
well-circulated rock & roll styles alongside AOR and
heavy metal, there was a flashback roots-oriented movement
with bands such as Jason & the Scorchers and Green On
Red courageously showing off their love for country. Now
that new wave has returned with Franz Ferdinand, the Killers,
and the Bravery and the Darkness are fitting themselves
in tight spandex and doing histrionic AC/DC imitations,
it’s perfect timing for roots-rock to be resuscitated.
Now called “Americana,” it’s actually
a genre that’s been bubbling underground since the
early ‘90s and welcomed again by college-radio stations.
The Famous are perhaps the most creative of this league
of not-so-extraordinary Southern gentlemen; it helps that
they aren’t from the South as the group isn’t
afraid to give traditional country a good-natured spanking.
In fact, the opening cut “Son of the Snake”
doesn’t even sound like Americana. Judging from that,
I thought the cover art and pictures were possibly a joke
to reel in unsuspecting customers not expecting a Big Black
CD. But it’s not a gag; these guys have country in
their blood, and they are damn good at bending its clichés.
Vocalist-guitarist Laurence Scott can write some hilariously
twisted lyrics like on “Midway” and “Get
You Back”; humor is best served black, after all.
Those songs epitomize the Famous’ unrestrained expression
of artistic freedom. They’re not trying to be adored
by the masses, just being themselves, and “Midway”
reveals more about American life than any of Bruce Springsteen’s
last few albums. Light, Sweet Crude has its share of twang
and Southern accents; more importantly, it is filled with
heart. And even when it’s broken, the Famous continue
to beat with relentless enthusiasm and endless joy. I reckon
these boys will be Famous one day.
"Poet Society"
April 21, 2005
America has its first post-9/11 singer-songwriter; however,
he isn’t from the U.S. Nevertheless, no other new
guitar-slinging solo artist conveys the troubled state of
public consciousness than Englishman Ian Knapp. You can
hear it in his voice – stripped of its strength, trembling,
questioning. There’s a fire in Knapp’s vocals
that is not lit by heartbreak or romance; instead, it percolates
from our current fears and disillusionment. Even the title
of the album – Into These Oceans – makes one
think of drowning, lost in the waters of a world turning
upside down. The song itself is about escape, the only solution
to these increasingly scary and confusing times.
Knapp is a fine poet, and as tempting it is for me to quote
him here, it’s better to simply trust me and listen
to his record cold like I did. He has a way with words that
is less common with his nonsensical peers and can be compared
to new wave lyricists from the ‘80s such as Roddy
Frame from Aztec Camera or Elvis Costello. The music is
mostly folk-oriented with occasional bursts of rock &
roll energy, especially on “Jumping the Wall”
and “Pieces of You,” the latter having a riff
reminiscent of Madder Rose’s “Panic On.”
There’s only a single filler tune on Into These Oceans
– the super short and unnecessary “When I Fell”
– and the greatness on display should have industry
observers predicting future hits for this man.
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Doves - Some Cities
Review by : Shawn Delaney
Where to buy: www.amazon.com
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"Dovetailing?"
April 1, 2005
Manchester’s Doves third album is quite the mixed
bag. Blending club rock, soul, shoegazing, and Britpop,
while somehow retaining the overall feel of their usual
Brit/Noise pop, Some Cities is simultaneously a
departure and a retention of form for the group.
The album kicks off with a one-two punch of inspired songwriting,
but stylistic right turns for the band. Album opener, ‘Some
Cities’, is decent, if oddly “rawky”.
First single ‘Black and White Town’ is inspired
and soulful, featuring terrific piano rhythms, despite containing
one of the more amateurish guitar solos in recent memory.
Still, it’s a bombastic stompalong that could really
take longtime fans of the group aback at first. ‘Snowden’
includes an out of nowhere super-fuzz solo, and some really
nicely chimey guitars. ‘Almost Forgot Myself’
is subtly brilliant and the closest the band comes to the
“classic” Doves single. Actually ‘Walk
In Fire’, could have appeared interchangeably on any
of the three albums, and is basically ‘There Goes
the Fear’ Jr (not a bad thing). ‘Sky Stars Falling’
is basically the only track worth mentioning on the second
half of the album; most of the remainder is forgettable
at best.
Some Cities is probably their weakest effort to
date, but it’s certainly not terrible. Of the 11 songs,
5 and a half are good. That’s not a bad ratio, all
things considered, but not quite up to the band’s
usual heights. Just goes to show that mediocre Doves material
is better than most of the stuff out there.
"This Ain't No Jet"
April 1, 2005
Australia doesn’t begin and end with Jet.
While the multi-platinum rockers should given a pat on the
back for putting the freeze on the rap-metal revolution
and helping to bring commercial alternative radio back to
its roots, it’s quite saddening that a country once
renowned for its musical diversity – everything from
the leftist political anthems and post-punk rage of Midnight
Oil to the Technicolor synthesized pop of Split Enz to the
sultry funk-rock of INXS – is reduced to a second-rate
AC/DC imitation.
Perhaps Cinematic can alter that perception.
Sounding – thankfully, yes – nothing like their
brethren Jet, Cinematic has a stylistic palate that many
contemporary acts cannot fathom no matter where they’re
from. Back in the ‘70s, Cinematic would’ve been
labeled as “progressive rock,” especially for
the opening cut, “Roger Over,” which might be
a subconscious homage to Pink Floyd’s Roger Waters
except that the guitars are far crunchier than what one
would expect from a Floyd record. It’s certainly a
potent wake-up call, and surprisingly not characteristic
of much of the record. Cinematic specialize in depth –
and I’m not just speaking of in an emotional sense,
either. These lads can actually play and, depending on what
fictional movie is being scored, the tone is different each
time. If Stevie Wonder fronted Supertramp, it wouldn’t
have sounded too dissimilar from the mix-and-match of AOR
and soulful pop on this magnificent debut.
"Saturday Night's Alright"
April 1, 2005
The lines between what is considered an independent release
and a major-label product can sometimes be blurred. Buffalo,
NY singer/songwriter Scott Celani’s Saturday album
has no markings of Warner Bros. or Columbia yet it shouldn’t
be filed with Belle & Sebastian, either.
With record companies no longer having the relevance they
used to and technology becoming more accessible to unsigned
musicians, we have aberrations like Celani who sounds like
he is on a major label. And, seriously, despite my overall
lack of respect towards the corporate landscape, there is
nothing wrong with a solid, mainstream rock & roll record.
Which is exactly what Saturday is.
Reminiscent of acoustic-based rockers such as John Mayer
and Toad the Wet Sprocket, Celani is a straightforward storyteller
with little interest in irony or sonic innovation. Saturday
is an apt name as the CD has the breezy, carefree feel of
a weekend getaway, especially the romantic and highly catchy
title track. Slick production gives the album a radio-friendly
sheen that adds to the air of comfort.
Like others working within this genre, Celani is the sensitive
type, sharing his sorrow with no reservations but the choruses
are often emotionally winning. Considering that much of
what is considered alternative rock these days are merely
shapeless grooves with high-school haiku lyrics, it is refreshing
to hear clear and honest songs for a change. Don’t
expect to hear anything new on Saturday; just think of it
as a glass of milk and a bowl of chocolate chip cookies,
creating a sense of familiarity that is pleasing and leaves
you yearning for more.
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Bloc Party - Silent Alarm
Review by : Shawn Delaney
Where to buy: www.amazon.com
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"Party Around the Bloc"
Feb 22, 2005
Briefly known as Angel Range and Union, South London quartet
Bloc Party seems to have found the lucky moniker. Roaring
tooth and nail to the head of the 2005 class, their fist
pumping full length debut, Silent Alarm, is a surprise
gem that not only grabs quick attention, but rewards those
who come back to it again and again, day after day. It’s
tough to get a grasp on exactly where to place the band;
sounding fresh, but with a familiar subtext, they’re
a slippery lot to describe. A post-punk cross between Blur,
The Cure, The Futureheads and Idlewild or spiritual contemporaries
to Franz Ferdinand (although much more cerebral), Bloc Party
is all and none of these things.
Perhaps the first thing you’ll notice is that Vocalist
Kele Okereke sounds like a young Robert Smith. Maybe this
is what the Cure would have sounded like if they’d
be more skilled with their instruments and had hung out
at the pub instead of dropping acid in dark bedrooms. After
that you may listen to the frenetic drumming of Matt Tong,
who often sounds like he simply must have ten arms, or the
tasty, layered guitars of Russell Lissack. These guys have
got the chops, the taste, accessibility, and the songs to
put most of their contemporaries in the dust --and make
it sound effortless.
From rock-anthem opener ‘Like Eating Glass’,
to the International Noise Conspiracy-like polito-punk ‘Helicopter’,
to the melodic balladry of the gorgeous Blur-esque ‘Blue
Light’, Bloc Party display enviously incredible versatility.
And that’s without evening mentioning the best songs
on the album, sublime 2004 single ‘Banquet’,
and should-be-monster ‘This Modern Love’.
The band even shifts into full-on shoegaze mode for ‘So
Here We Are’, which is an out-of-nowhere treat.
Rarely straightforward, with just the right mix of subtlety,
attitude, politics and melody, it’s going to be hard
to top Silent Alarm in ’05. This is an album
I can listen to over and over again and hear something new
on each spin. I know I’ve said that before, but if
you didn’t believe me then, listen to me now (and
believe me later).
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Interpol - Antics
Review by : Shawn Delaney
Where to buy: www.amazon.com
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"The Slow Hand Killers"
Oct 25, 2004
While Antics may not be as instantly saliva-inducing as
its predecessor, one can safely say that it is one of the
better follow-ups to a modern classic in recent memory.
The boys of Interpol haven’t lost a step, and have
been able to write a record that sounds fresh while only
tweaking their sound in subtle ways. Suffice to say, they
didn’t make Turn On the Bright Lights 2, but it hasn’t
hurt them a bit. In general the songs are a tad less gloomy,
a tad more upbeat, and significantly more accomplished.
The organ intro of opener ‘Next Exit’, and
hell, the whole song, seem a tad out of place compared to
the rest of the album. It’s an odd choice for a first
track, but is quickly forgotten. ‘Evil’ gets
back to business with a bouncy bassline and weirdo lyrics
about “Rosemary/Heaven restores you in life“.
Even odder, you wouldn’t think this would make a catchy
hook, but “It took a lifespan with no cell mate/The
long way back/Say me why I can’t we look the other
way”, is shockingly hummable. Anyway, ‘Evil’
is a terrific song. Track 3, ‘Narc’, is pretty
super, featuring a reappearing ska(!) beat on the verses
that sounds incredible in context and blends in amazing
ways with the rest of the song. ‘Take You On a Cruise’
seems to be an exploration of “finer ships”,
featuring nice ebow parts and extra complex drums; the highlight
is the second half in which vocalist Paul Banks bellows
a shiver-inducing “I am the scavenger” to great
effect.
Groovy single ‘Slow Hands’ features the timeless
lines “We spies/yeah we slow hands/you put the weights
all around yourself/…/We retire like nobody else”.
I don’t pretend to understand this stuff, but it sounds
intriguing, and dammit I like it.
Despite the band’s rugged touring schedule over the
past couple of years, vocalist Paul Banks doesn’t
sound the worse for wear. He still channels the ghost of
Ian Curtis. Interestingly, however, as implied above, his
lyrics have become several levels stranger, becoming almost
an entity in themselves.
Antics isn’t perfect; it gives in to a bit of weak-song
letdown near the end. However, all things considered, it’s
just about as great a job of a sophomore release that Interpol
could pull off. For a band seemingly hamstrung by 80’s
gloom-rock comparisons (Joy Division, The Chameleons, etc),
Antics feels surprisingly fresh.
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Le Tigre - This Island
Review by : Rev OJ Flow
Where to buy: www.amazon.com
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"Shiny Metal Ass Kicking"
Oct 22, 2004
Le Tigre shows their confident handle of the strong opening
in their new LP This Island with "On the Verge."
It reminds me of a jam like U2's "Zoo Station"
over ten years ago: that song with a calling-all-cars lead-in
that gets the crowd amped for a rockin' time. Le Tigre has
also proven that they are more than ready to play in the
big leagues with this being their first foray into big label
production. And like U2's Achtung Baby, This
Island comes just in time to call out a Bush presidency
on its bullshit.
Le Tigre's third full-length disc is anchored by the protest
cut "New Kicks." While the song samples heavily
from a New York City protest rally a year and a half ago,
it couldn't be more necessary than now as we draw perilously
close to the prospect of another four years of the Bush
regime.
What makes This Island stellar, though, is the
musical diversity and opportunities for all three ladies
to shine. JD Samson, Le Tigre’s androgynous representative,
makes great use of her time on the mic with "Viz,"
a profile of the lesbian dating scene. Kathleen Hanna frequently
displays that danceable beats haven't dulled the former
Bikini Kill leader's punk edge, like in "Seconds,"
while her howl gives weight to a pop track like "After
Dark." Schlockier American Idol rejects (the ones creampuff
Paula Abdul praises as stars of the future waaaaay too often)
would've buried "After Dark" into irrelevance.
And Johanna Fateman's JJ Fad-style braggadociousness is
a slam dunk with the twin hype "Nanny Nanny Boo Boo."
Bonus points to Hanna and company for not allowing their
major label debut to be neutered by corporate tendencies
to stifle dissenting voices. Girls everywhere, not to mention
a few dudes, could really use this CD to clear out the cobwebs
that have built up in their collective heads over the last
four years due to conservative group efforts that have dulled
common sense, good taste, and freedom of choice all over
America. Le Tigre new release is the blueprint for protest
you can dance to. Did I mention that they cover the Pointer
Sisters’ “I’m Excited”?
Stand-out tracks: 1, 4, 5, 8, 9, 11. This album kicks some
shiny metal ass but is not for everyone (like Republicans,
Neo-Cons, Nazis, etc.)
"misguided into the sunset"
Sep 8, 2004
The imminent demise of indie legends Guided By Voices portends
one grand possibility: that of frontman Robert Pollard’s
frequent assertions that he will one day write the “perfect
pop album”. This is his last chance with his best-known
name. Surely the mastermind behind the near-perfection of
Bee Thousand would have something spectacular up his sleeve.
Unfortunately, I’m not happy to tell you that he didn’t.
Half Smiles of the Decomposed has to be regarded as a bitterly
disappointing finale.
The overarching problem, other than a grievous lack of
hooks, is that the album simply contains very little joy.
This is a Guided By Voices album, right? The instrumentation
is weak, there no joy or backbone to be found. What gives?
Here’s the decent stuff. ‘Sons of Apollo’
is effective, if perhaps misguided, featuring real actual
vocal samples for perhaps the first time in GBV’s
history. ‘Girls of Wild Strawberries’ is at
least recognizably GBV, if far too understated. The otherwise
OK ‘Gonna Never Have to Die’ contains an absolutely
awful acoustic solo outro. ‘Window of my World’
could be a good ballad if had any life at all, but as it
is it’s as disposable as the rest of the album. ‘Everybody
Thinks I’m a Raincloud’ has got to be their
most flaccid and disposable single ever. And, I gotta say,
‘Asphyxiated Circle’ is just plain old out of
tune.
Wow. Needless to say I’m floored by the mediocrity
of the whole affair. To be honest, the less said about Half
Smiles the better. Let’s hope that Pollard is just
saving his best stuff for his next solo record. Suffice
to say, it’s a damn shame that GBV had to go out this
way, not with a bang but with a whimper.
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Delays - Faded Seaside Glamour
Review by : Shawn Delaney
Where to buy: www.amazon.com
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"Fleetwood Verve"
July 29, 2004
Who’s that girl? That’s no girl, that’s
Greg Gilbert, lead singer for English quartet Delays! Sure,
he sounds an awful lot like Stevie Nicks, but who cares?
Delays, made up of two sets of brothers (Gilbert and Fox),
takes 60’s pop and turns it pear-shaped. They are
an odd, yet perfect, combination of pop, psychedelia, neo-shoegaze,
and 70’s AOR, with an unerring ear for melody. Intrigued?
You should be.
Springing from the ashes of their previous band (the all-acoustic
and unfortunately named Corky), Delays’ confident
debut album, Faded Seaside Glamour, is a no-miss
prospect. It’s consistent without being samey, catchy
without being saccharine, and noisy/swirly without the pretension.
Kind of a like a poppier and more lush Placebo, but with
sublime harmonies.
First single ‘Hey Girl’ is reminiscent of the
Pernice Brothers or any number of other 60’s pop nuggeteers.
‘Bedroom Scene’ sounds eerily like a Fleetwood
Mac track (it deserves to be said again: Gilbert has one
of the most feminine voices in rock history; it’s
unlikely that you could tell that the singer is a man without
being told). ‘You Wear the Sun’ channels The
Verve, while opener ‘Wanderlust’ is a winner,
despite an odd choice of a steel drum line. The centerpiece
of the album is arguably ‘Nearer Than Heaven’,
a sublime neo-shoegaze scorcher featuring some of the most
gorgeous harmonies in memory. Not counting a lead keyboard
line that gets old fast on ‘Stay Where You Are’,
there isn’t a bad track on the album.
With spirit, confidence, a unique sound, and enough hooks
to open a bra shop, Faded Seaside Glamour should
rank high on the buzzometer for those in the know.
