Album Review: Umphrey's McGee - Anchor Drops

Umphrey's McGee: Anchor Drops

[SCI Fidelity 2004]

8/10

For a jam band like Umphrey’s McGee, it is understandable that their comfort zone lies on stage where their extended jam sessions and creative genre-fusion experimentation yields an enthusiastic crowd response. In the studio, however, the goals are somewhat different: like always you want to entertain and otherwise move the audience, but the lack of live, in-person energy must be considered. Speaking for myself, at least, extended jam sessions (I’m thinking several tracks off of the Allman Brothers Band’s At Fillmore East) can grow tiresome even on a live album, let alone an album recorded in the closed, comparatively stale environment of a studio. While Umphrey’s McGee’s 2004 album Anchor Drops is not without the epic jam journeys that are in their nature, it is a very tight, well-produced album that carries over energy from the stage to the living room.

Hailing from the Chicago area, the band members embrace the city’s strong jazz influences and urban culture while fusing numerous other genres like rock, heavy metal, funk, and even some country. This fusion lends to some incredibly complex and carefully constructed song compositions with styles, melodies, and instrumentation changing abruptly in many songs. The large band behind this blend consists of Brendan Bayliss and Jake Cinninger on guitar and vocals, Joel Cummins on keyboard and vocals, Ryan Stasik on bass, Kris Myers on drums and vocals, and Andy Farag on percussion. Over the course of the album, just about every member has time in the spotlight, from the organ-like keyboarding in “Miss Tinkle’s Overture” to the furious drum intro to “Mulche’s Odyssey.” More constant and predominant, however, are Stasik’s funky and outstanding basslines and Bayliss and Cinninger’s heavy guitar riffs and warm, clear vocals.

The album’s opener “Plunger” well characterizes the album as a whole with a prominent scratchy guitar riff leading into a number of pace and style changes from a psychedelically synthesized guitar portion to acoustic fingerpicking, calming piano melody, and then back to a gritty electric guitar riff. It’s one thing to incorporate these elements within a single song, but it is quite another to do it well and seamlessly, which Umphrey’s McGee accomplishes more often than not. “Anchor Drops” and “In the Kitchen” are two of the catchiest songs here, with the first offering a groovy bassline and climactic guitar work, the latter bringing alternately foreboding and uplifting melodies and excellent lyrics, and both radiating pure coolness.

The pace and style of the album then abruptly changes with the slow, laidback country tune “Bullhead City” on which Bayliss’ wife Elliott Peck provides a wonderful harmonizing vocal. The song is very calming and beautiful, but it (along with the acoustic instrumental closer “The Pequod”) feels out of place on the album. While the structure of numerous songs leaves the door open for even greater experimental jamming, song lengths are kept to a minimum (maxing out at 7:43) and the album is better for it. “Miss Tinkle’s Overture,” an epic instrumental jam session driven by keyboard and a soaring guitar, lets the band flex their instrumental muscle, as do the bluesy-rock of “Jajunk Pt. I” and “Jajunk Pt. II” and the psychedelic machine-filterings of “Robot World.” As impressive as these demonstrations are, however, many songs do tend to step on each other’s toes and contribute to a sense of repetition.

The last standard song on the album, “Wife Soup,” is also arguably the best. Beginning with another groovy bassline, the song descends and then rises into an upbeat guitar and brass section (courtesy Karl Denson on saxophone and Andy Geib on trombone) before making a number of piano-driven melodic detours. For all its intricacies, the song converges twice with a soaring, catchy, and instantly sing-along chorus that makes the song standout on the tracklist.

As mentioned earlier, Umphrey’s McGee wears their pride for Chicago on their sleeves. If their Chicago pride weren’t obvious enough from their album cover, the album is dotted with urban sound effects and references from the “doors closing” announcement of an L train (“Anchor Drops”) to street scenes (“Jajunk Pt. II,” “Robot World”) and lyrics depicting urban living (“In the Kitchen,” “Walletsworth”). The city’s love of jazz and blues music is embraced throughout the band’s work in addition to a number of other genre influences. In addition to the jam band formatting their music expertly into a studio album format, their consistent musical energy and masterful jamming abilities should make Chicagoans and jam bands alike proud.

Album Review: Real Estate - Real Estate

Real Estate: Real Estate

[Woodsist 2009]

9/10

Does New Jersey truly suck? Admittedly, I've only been on the excellent, highly abridged tour: the picturesque beaches of Cape May, the nice parts of Camden County that are far cries from actual Camden, the affluent suburbia of North Jersey, and not-unpleasant excursions through said region's more dilapidated, less Kodak-worthy cities on the way to New York. The state has its haters for its undoubtedly shitty aspects, but you will nevertheless find plenty of natives with boisterous, non-ironic pride for the Garden State.

Lo-fi surf rockers Real Estate are patriotic Jersey boys, but absolutely not in the Bruce Springsteen way. Their self-titled debut is a seamless blend of mellow psychedelic folk, surf pop, and alternative country that whispers odes to the home state and the imagery of chilled out fun in the sun. "Carry me back to sweet Jersey, back to where I long to be" sings Martin Courtney, whose everyman vocals are usually buried in the mix, but the emotional resonations of his words make up for the physical distance of his voice. The overall effect is not too dissimilar from James Mercer's layered croon on Oh, Inverted World. The suburban imagery is more evoked sonically through patient, looped rhythms and warm lo-fi glow.

Resting on Courtney's reserved singing are airy guitar riffs that hit decidedly country tones (Read: the second half melody of opener "Beach Comber" will hook you on these guys). But as informed by CCR (at their slowest) and outdoorsy folk as Real Estate may be, it is still a sound that lives on the Jersey Shore. The jangly guitar chords and psychedelic underpinnings flesh out the band's mellow, summertime aesthetic. "Atlantic City" is an instrumental, slow motion hang ten that's far prettier than its namesake, and "Let's Rock the Beach" doesn't so much rock it as it puts on a blissed out liquid light show for the beachcombers. Only closer "Snow Day" breaks seasonal rank, serving sing-along folk and softly soaring vocals not far removed from Robin Pecknold and Fleet Foxes.

As much as the tunes stick, you may realize, once broken from trance, how effortless and unassuming Real Estate really sounds. The post-college members of the band seem to speak to a time when summer actually meant trips to the beach and relaxation before another school year, not actual jobs and actual stress. It's not all sunglasses and above-ground pools, but damn if it isn’t a beautiful life created in Real Estate. Courtesy of sweet Jersey.

"Beach Comber":

Album Review: Christmas Island - Blackout Summer

Christmas Island: Blackout Summer

[In the Red 2009] 

4/10 

The members of Christmas Island appear to be well into their 20s, but the hallmarks of their debut peg them more in the middle teenage years: messy outbursts, undirected angst, general "why me" confusion over girls and life, and pessimism to boot. Once you've grown through the pubescent years, you probably have less sympathy for the melodrama and self-pity that teens rub in peoples' faces. In music, particularly brands like punk and indie rock that often pedal in teen angst, it takes a lot to make this material compelling and make you care, and the lo-fi garage pop of Blackout Summer misses that mark.

The band's aesthetic does include certain influences that would be lost on the typical teen garage punk band, including Beach Boys-inflected melodies and guitar work that hints at surf rock. The songs of Blackout Summer seem to reach for surf pop hooks and an underlying sense of innocence, but any pop approachability is kept at bay by the bleak lo-fi recording quality that buries the guitar and drums in heavy muck. Whether it's by drums of impending doom ("Pre-Apocalyptic") or horror movie organ ("Egypt"), Christmas Island takes a number of slanted pop tunes and weighs them down with stark production and off-kilter instrumentation.

The effect is less off-putting, though no less unsettling, on the tracks more imitative of straight punk rock, like the cymbal-crashing "I Don't Care" and the start-and-stop of "Anxiety Attack". Besides lo-fi production that purposefully lends Blackout Summer a gristly demeanor, tying the tracks together are the vocals of frontman Brian Island. Delivered with complete articulation and a nasally impersonation of a nerdy teen punk, Island's vocals are simple, blunt, and eventually tiring. While the band's lo-fi aesthetic sounds in part like fellow San Diegan Wavves, Island's vocals are mostly distinguishable above the guitar and drums, creating a less claustrophobic atmosphere than Nathan Williams' relentless fuzz. How much Island's voice, and the band's general sound, is aimed at mimicking (sympathizing with?) garage-playing kids is not clear, but whatever the aim, the album loses traction fast for its lack of maturity.

Island's one-dimensional vocals already denote a simplistic worldview, but the lyrics further stress a grating lack of intelligence. It's easy to point the finger here at "Dinosaurs", which stomps along with lines like "Dinosaurs, I can't believe you ever existed" and "Stegosaurus…Tyrannosaurus REX!" Elsewhere, as on "My Baby", simplicity doesn’t amount to any sort of charm: "My baby, I love you, more than the stars above you. My baby, please hold me, if you don’t I'll die slowly."

For all the aesthetic choices that, at parts of the album, feel like self-sabotage, there are moments where Island's ramshackle moan and instrumentation confused between surf pop and downer punk make for interesting ditties, even if they are just that. The feverish guitar licks of "I Don't Care", the rare (at least musical) uplift of "It's True", and the accessible melody of "Bed Island" are replayable tracks, even if they still subscribe to an aesthetic that gets old fast.

Christmas Island can go ahead and muddy up their pop songs with lo-fi production, gloomy instrumental effects and punk inflections, but ultimately, the band must face up to the question of why anybody should care. And it's hard to invest much into Blackout Summer when it so often hints that it's almost brain-dead.

"Blackout Summer":

 

Photo: Loud and Quiet

Album Review: Ambulance LTD - LP

Ambulance LTD: LP

[TVT 2004]

8/10

"Guitar solos are so back!" raved Rolling Stone magazine in May, 2004. Those solos would be courtesy of Ambulance LTD, an indie rock outfit from Harlem with a sound varying from dreamy pop to loud, dense shoegazing. It was back in 2004 that the band released this confident, mature rocker, officially titled "LP." But neither Rolling Stone's nod nor the praise of numerous other music critics has given the band much notoriety or public recognition since it was released. Furthermore the state of the band since has been turbulent and unfortunately dissolving: 3 of the 4 original members left to form The Red Romance citing "interpersonal dramas", leaving lone member Kevin Congleton on his own until 2008 when he acquired 3 new bandmates. But it was also in 2008 that their record label TVT filed for bankruptcy and then tried to sell their artists' back catalog, prompting Congleton and labelmates The Polyphonic Spree to sue.

All this is such a shame, because LP is indeed a very satisfying rocker that has the potential for mass appeal, even years after it was released.
 

Opener "Yoga Means Union" immediately shows the old Ambulance LTD flexing its guitar might as this instrumental rocker leads to an exciting climax. The use of distortion and the removal of drums at the climax add to the incredible ambiance and attitude of the song, which immediately is candidate for the best song on the album.

Enter Michael Di Liberto, the confident yet simultaneously restrained lead vocalist and guitarist of 2004's Ambulance LTD. His vocal debut on the album's second track "Primitive (The Way I Treat You)" is full of promise, but the song's high attitude and swagger suffer also come with a bit of cockiness and annoyance that is not smart for an early track in the album. The band quickly recovers, however, humbling themselves with an acoustic guitar, keyboard, and a muffled drum beat and electrical guitar on the more pleasing "Anecdote," which was featured in the background of a recent Nokia commercial. While pleasant sounding, it is ironic that this has basically led to the band's only 30 seconds of mainstream fame, as it can easily be interpreted as a depiction of heroin use.

Coming off that foot-tapper is the best song on the album, "Heavy Lifting." Half of the song is recorded as a lo-fi, almost Sebadoh-esque dream song that is undeniably cool in its delivery. Then, quite unexpectedly, an unshielded electric guitar leads the way into a drawn out falling action for the song that, wordlessly, closes out the first half's dreamy landscape in a totally different mood.

"Ophelia" and "Stay Where You Are" follow Ambulance LTD's standard, engaging formula of combining a quite standard, melodic rock guitar riff with a vocal presentation covered in a light cloud of distortion to create a calming, psychedelic environment, that simultaneously...well, rocks. "Sugar Pill" similarly combines both elements, but added is a constant "beeping" beat and loud, fast drumming that create a sense of panic and urgency that is also present in "Stay Tuned". It is especially not on the next track "Michigan," whose slow buildup and forgettable melodies make it the low point of the album. Next with that aforementioned song, "Stay Tuned" has a rather intense opening mood that is combined with mysterious lyrics as well as a lighter, more pop sounding chorus that is thoroughly satisfying.

On "Swim," Ambulance LTD combines both dreamy instrumentation and vocals to create a very mellow whose melody rises over the chorus like a wave. The tempo changes a little over halfway through the next tune "Young Urban" when the mellow song rises to a climax followed by the loudest minute in the half on the album. This final minute and a half is the clearest example of shoegazing on the album as the song builds in intensity with loud drumming and a heavily distorted vocal and guitar riff.

The album's concluding piece is where the band's Velvet Underground connection lies. The band performs a solid cover Lou Reed's "The Ocean" from his self-titled debut solo album from 1972. Furthermore, in 2007, Congleton was working with John Cale to develop new material for what would have been a new Ambulance LTD album, but in keeping with a trend, neither a new LP nor any Congleton/Cale collaborations have surfaced.

So what is Ambulance LTD today? Your guess is as good as mine. With no new music in five years (after 2006's New English EP), it's perhaps easiest to say they're down for the count. The cruel intervention of the music gods have made sure a promising band in Ambulance LTD was cut down just as it was blossoming. But to dwell too much on the band's perhaps fatal growing pains is to miss what we should be thankful for: LP. The reason we think about where they are now is because in 2004 Ambulance LTD released a confident, melodic, fully accomplished shoegaze-rock album that still holds its own today. Through the reshuffling, lawsuits, "interpersonal dramas", and bad management, to the four guys behind LP: be proud.

Album Review: Mishka - Above the Bones

Mishka: Above the Bones

[j.k. living 2009]

4/10

Each time I listen to Above the Bones, the third proper album from Bermudan reggae singer Mishka, I can’t help but think of Ras Trent, played by Andy Samberg on Saturday Night Live last year. That boneheaded white Rastafarian spends his days quoting Selassie I, smoking pot, and otherwise trying to be the ultimate, oh-so-cool college Rasta just like the Jah-loving scenesters that have inspired him. And I can imagine that besides adorning his walls, Ras Trent’s iPod is full of Bob Marley, as well as any other reggae artists with a leftist message and chilled out groove. All things considered, Ras Trent would love Mishka.

That’s not to say that Mishka’s musical intentions are inherently inane. Reflecting a childhood bouncing around the Caribbean, Mishka is a straight up reggae man with a gentle, widely accessible aesthetic. Bob Marley is his man, the legend’s music permeating deeply into his style and vocals, and surely there’s nothing wrong with having the king of reggae as a major creative influence. But what Mishka does with this influence is what’s important, and unfortunately, on Above the Bones, it isn’t much.

Mishka’s brand of reggae is rife in adult contemporary pop clichés, and while Above the Bones may make for good background music at a chill college party or a pleasantly simple source of relaxation, it’s still a predictable and generic record. The problems start from the get go, as opener “Higher Heights” plods along on a dime-a-dozen slow reggae rhythm before reaching an unimaginative chorus. “Train Again” doesn’t sound too dissimilar, except here the song is marred by a guest vocalist whose deep-voiced toasting is grossly overdone.

While ultimately a flop, at least “Train Again” takes a risk, which is more than can be said for the safe soft rock that elicit bored yawns elsewhere on the album, especially on “Mountains Meet the Sea.” “Peace & Love” is a slow pseudo-kumbaya of mind-numbing simplicity, while the acoustic closer “Guy With a Guitar” is cheesy, overly-suave, and designed to elicit lovestruck sighs in girls’ dorm rooms.

The gentle soft reggae rhythms match the album’s generic lyrics, making Above the Bones a boringly tame listen. Even the brief periods of ambiance sound effects, like the party crowd on “Higher Heights,” the train noises of “Train Again,” and the wash of the tide on “Coastline Journey” sound clichéd and amateurish. In singing in generalities and not varying his Marley-like vocals, most of Mishka’s songs pack no punch and become exceedingly forgettable. When Mishka most directly confronts social ills on “3rd Eye Vision,” which is musically one of the few catchy bright spots on the record, his lacking songwriting skills are most evident. Although sporting an enjoyable chorus and a nice use of horns, the song’s lyrics are laughably ridiculous, as Mishka shares that “I keep wishing corporations/ And the politicians/ Would make title restrictions/ On the fossil fuel emissions.” It’s one of those toothless songs for political change that you know will end up accomplishing zilch.

Despite its rudimentary treatment of world peace, love, and other feel-good notions, Mishka does manage several worthwhile tracks besides “3rd Eye Vision.” The title track is an uplifting, relaxing tune helped out by female backing vocals and Mishka’s most graceful singing on the album. Darker tones mark the more serious, but still relaxing “Some Paths,” another highlight.

In the end, however, besides being a competent soft reggae album, Above the Bones offers no surprises. Mishka sticks to a tired formula that ultimately yields few rewards, while his lyrical takes on world politics and “peace and love” are sorely lacking creatively and intellectually. Between thought-provoking social consciousness and radio-friendly tunes geared for the college set, Mishka can’t accomplish both, and ends up with more of the latter. So while the gospel for folks like Ras Trent remains Bob Marley and the other legends of real roots-reggae, there’s a good chance the reggae heads will find time to obnoxiously blast Above the Bones down the hallway.

"Coastline Journey":

Album Review: Candy Claws - Hidden Lands

 Candy Claws: Hidden Lands

[Twosyllable 2010]

6.5/10

One childhood fantasy that hardly ever dissipates with age is the dream of discovering unseen worlds. Brushing apart the tall grasses, stepping out of the space capsule, stumbling upon a world of color when all you’ve known was black and white.  Hidden Lands promises in its title to show you this alternate universe and the songs (“Miracle Spring”, “A Strange Land Discovered”) further guarantee sights seemingly foreign to this earth.  Such a virginal utopia can cater to a multitude of experiences: carefree leisure, wild adventures, or, as Candy Claws seem to like it, a meditation like none other.

The sleepy indie pop soundcapers are at total ease in the dream worlds they create.  While their 2009 debut In the Dream of the Sea Life was billed as a “musical companion” to the 1951 best-selling book “The Sea Around Us”, their follow-up takes more cues from their Colorado roots, inspired by Richard M. Ketchum’s “The Secret Life of Forests”.  Birds chirp, babbling streams flow by, and the majesty of sweeping forests and mountain slopes take form in lush washed out keyboards and orchestral accents.

Despite the wealth of delicate sounds populating Hidden Lands, the album is considerably, and perhaps overly, quiet (or “feeling” quiet).  The effect of quaint children’s songs on loads of Benadryl is accomplished in whispery, droned vocals layered in unison.  Lyrics are vague at best, as the vocals clearly serve to be another calming tone among the rest (similar to cited influence My Bloody Valentine).  As serenely as these compositions flutter past, the songs maintain a subdued hum that can be hard to shake, in that the band doesn’t shake things up.  While “Sunbeam Show”, with its mesmerizing sirens and clean melody, is a gentle charmer speaking to the best of dream pop intentions, the interweavings of “On the Bridge” and “Hiding” blur the lines between sleepy and sleep-inducing.

Candy Claws radically endorse a connection to nature through a drugged-out psychadelia that stays firmly in one gear.  But in this sleepy haze, there is a colorful sonic diversity that rewards focused listens.  Whether stuck in first gear or happily never wanting to leave it, beautiful serenity is an accomplished goal here.  We may never see strange new worlds like the ones we imagined in our youth, but perhaps the lesson in Hidden Lands is that the undiscovered is all around us; we just have to slow down, be quiet, and listen.

"Silent Time of Earth":

Photo: DigiDan

Album Review: Ken Nordine - Colors

Ken Nordine: Colors

[Asphodel 1967, 1995]

6.5/10

The year was 1966. Ken Nordine, the widely recognized baritone voice behind dozens of commercials and movie trailers of the time and the originator of “word jazz,” which involves spoken word narration over cool jazz, was approached by advertising agent Bob Pritikin. Pritikin wanted Nordine to narrate radio commercials for the Fuller Paint Company that would focus on the colors of the spectrum, giving them distinct and absurd personality traits. Nordine agreed, and in the studio recorded ten commercials of the rich make-believe world of colors, complemented by the almost improvisational smooth jazz of the project’s band, led by Dick Campbell.

The result? Fascinated radio listeners called into the stations asking to hear the “colors” again, perhaps unaware that they were commercials. Spurred on by the success of the commercials and Nordine’s own enjoyment with the project, he decided to expand the idea of colors in word jazz into a full album, recording narrations for secondary colors and removing references to the Fuller Paint Company. With the addition of 10 bonus tracks left off of the original album, 1995’s rerelease of Colors covers 34 colors, ranging from lavender to orange to mauve, all in about 1 1/2 minutes each.

While Ken Nordine denied that he was a “beatnik,” his surreal narratives, social commentaries, and prominence in the poetry-and-jazz movement at the height of the beat era make his recordings, especially Colors, sound very much entrenched in the subculture. Knowing this background is helpful in understanding what you’re getting into in listening to Colors: mystery, bizarreness, intellectualism, and a large helping of pretentiousness.

Colors finds “Olive” being named “color of the year,” “Azure” feeling “bored with just being blue,” and “Crimson” described as “sick in the red!” One of the best and most well known tracks is “Yellow,” a mystical story of yellow being added to the spectrum. “Yellow” famously begins with “In the beginning… oh, long before that…” Nordine’s brief illustrations of the colors, whether they be short stories or wild sketches of personality, are often funny, frequently puzzling, and always artsy. His rich, expressive voice certainly breathes life into the colors, showing that perhaps no other voice could pull of this daring project. Supporting the endeavor, the jazz band assembled for the album does a solid job of providing clear moods and well-fitting tones for Nordine’s color interpretations. But regardless of the quality and necessity of the band’s performances, they take a backseat to Nordine’s suave poetry; this is Nordine’s work, and his words are always prominent and at the center of attention.

However, even when broken down into small portions of the color spectrum, the idea can be grating with over 30 colors covered, and many listeners will find the obtuseness and intentional elitism of Nordine immediately annoying. An example of this intellectualism is on the back cover of the album, which features a scientific-styled slide of some blue and black figure with the description “obviously the infratension is too facile and this has sorely affected the darkest force just behind the left kneecap.” Its meaning is entirely lost on me, and I can imagine that it’s understanding can only be faked by those of Nordine’s highly educated, artistic persuasion. But I feel that Nordine was very aware of his often-snobby approach to artsy poetry; he was aware of its pretentiousness, but his intentions were always, at their core, lighthearted and in the name of fun.

While Colors may not have a lasting enjoyment for many listeners beyond being a “colorful” remnant of the ‘60s beat era and an important album in “word jazz”, it is an amusing oddity. Music lovers looking for a unique, high art experience may find some special pleasure with Colors, but don’t be surprised if you get some strange looks from your friends. In fact, they should be expected.

"Green":

Album Review: Umphrey's McGee - Mantis

Umphrey's McGee: Mantis
[SCI Fidelity 2009]

4.5/10

Before Mantis, we didn't see Umphrey's McGee as one of those jam bands. They weren't the kind to launch into overly meandering prog rock journeys or have a 30 second "Preamble" track. From their onstage jam sessions ("Jimmy Stewarts") to the compact radio-ready songs of Anchor Drops and Safety in Numbers, UM has stayed user-friendly; everyone's Rock with a capital R. For all it’s familiar elements, however, Mantis trades the warm and accessible for unfocused rambling that flies by in a messy blur.

The lead up to Mantis quickly revealed that the album would be a game changer for the band. Rather than road testing new songs, like they had done their whole career, UM was mostly hush hush on new material, instead crafting them in the secrecy of the studio. It was an inward-looking recording process that is not inherently misguided, but is surely risky considering the band's preeminence as a live, crowd-pleasing group (you know, a jam band).

Mantis is still recognizable as UM, but only in a piecemeal form. Trademark UM melodies and propulsive rhythms dot the landscape, but they are soon absorbed into aimless experimental riffing and spacey detours. "Turn & Run" is Umphrey’s McGee in true form until around the two-minute mark, when spacey synths transplant the steady groove into alternate dimensions for the next 5 and a half disjointed minutes. In fact, "disjointed" appropriately describes much of Mantis, from the bloated 12 minute title track to the forgettable meandering of "Spires". I’m sure the frequent tempo shifts looked great on paper (I would think so too), but in practice, they more often leave listeners lost and confused.

Even the album's several bite-sized tunes can't register the energy and excitement of previous records. Its flat chorus renders "Made to Measure", the first song and single, utterly forgettable and "Prophecy Now" is a dull mood piece. Closers "Red Tape" and "1348" simply pack in the prog-inclined exercises of the longer tracks into tighter quarters. Could it be that the most enjoyable track is the tight, bass-driven dance beat of "Cemetery Walk II"? Well, "Cemetery Walk" is the only long-runner here that doesn't collapse under its own weight, but altogether, Mantis delivers few of the really memorable, hook-adorned tunes that proliferated Safety in Numbers ("Nemo") and Anchor Drops ("Anchor Drops", "In the Kitchen").

Had this prog rock experiment worked out better for UM, Mantis could have its long-runners, but smoother transitions, more patient tempo shifts, and more cohesive song structures would have to be part of the equation. When the songs aren't submerged in obtuse prog foolery, Mantis at least shows that Umphrey's McGee can still be catchy and fun as hell. But listening to the band's latest outing, as the minutes pass by, I shouldn’t be asking myself: "What song am I listening to again?"

Album Review: Streetlight Manifesto - Somewhere in the Between

Streetlight Manifesto: Somewhere in the Between

[Victory 2007]

8.5/10

In 1007, original material had been a long four years in the making for Streetlight Manifesto, who have arisen to become one of the preeminent ska punk bands today. While the 90’s had the original Keasbey Nights, a landmark recording by Tomas Kalnoky’s old outfit Catch 22 in that decade’s third-wave ska boom, the 2000’s brings us Somewhere in the Between, Streetlight’s best work yet and a new pinnacle in this decade’s ska scene. This record is exciting, smart, aggressive, and fun. There are good things to be said about pretty much every aspect of this album and altogether, Somewhere in the Between is brilliant.

First and foremost, as is critical to the reputation of a ska band, is the instrumentation, especially in the horns department. Like in their 2003 debut Everything Goes Numb but perhaps even more so, Somewhere in the Between is sonically pristine and very polished. The great saxophone work, especially, contrast nicely with the hard and angry guitar, like on the album’s opener “We Will Fall Together.”

Elsewhere, Kalnoky brings the pace of action down to delicate melodies complemented beautifully with electric guitar plucking and occasionally soft backing vocals. Speaking of backing vocals, they play a huge role in this album, as they always have in Streetlight’s music, increasing the force and energy of each chorus, which has been one of the band’s best qualities.

While thematically darker than it’s predecessor, Somewhere in the Between continues in the style of Streetlight’s knack for peril-minded melodies in that the songs are often musically of an epic quality, which are supported completely by Kalnoky’s excellent lyrical work. The album does, however, have plenty of light moments, like on the extremely catchy “Down, Down, Down to Mephisto’s Café” and “The Blonde Lead the Blind,” which sounds the most like fellow kings of ska Reel Big Fish. The big divergence here, however, is that while RBF thrives on sarcasm and self-deprecating humor to launch into commentaries of adolescent life, Streetlight Manifesto seem to take themselves quite seriously, but with Kalnoky’s lyrics to support, the album feels smart and sophisticated while still being fun.

Despite the dark themes, the message delivered by the dynamic lyricist and leadman Tomas Kalnoky is thought provoking and inspiring. Kalnoky’s ear for catchy, satisfying rhymes extends to the larger scale of emotionally abrasive yet inquisitive narratives and snippets from life. Somewhere in the Between sounds like a commentary on mankind’s battles between good and evil and heaven and hell. We are, as the title suggests, in the middle of this eternal struggle. This idea also seems to be reflected in the album’s stylish cover art.

It is hard to find many flaws in this album, let alone any glaring ones. The final two tracks, while being strong and passable respectively, seem to step on each other’s toes in similarity. What is perhaps most disappointing however, is the length. Given the time Streetlight has had to record it, one would hope that for their sophomoric release they could muster up more than 10 songs over 44 minutes, which is about 10 minutes shorter than Everything Goes Numb. At least, however, they have put quality over quantity.

For Streetlight fans, they can rest assured that Somewhere in the Between does not break from the formula that produced their critically hailed debut from 2003, and it in fact exceeds that effort. New listeners to Streetlight Manifesto and even to ska itself will find much to enjoy hear as well, as the album’s plethora of catchy hooks and infectious energy make it the band’s most broadly appealing release yet.

Album Review: My Bloody Valentine - You Made Me Realise

My Bloody Valentine: You Made Me Realise

[Creation 1988]

9/10

Outside of 1988's Isn’t Anything and 1991's landmark Loveless, the work of shoegazing kings My Bloody Valentine is spread out over a string of almost a dozen EPs, many of them documenting the band’s earlier gothic rock style. As the band moved into shoegazing, a genre My Bloody Valentine could pretty much be credited with as creating, one of the earliest examples of their later style is in the EP You Made Me Realise from 1988 and just prior to Isn’t Anything. It is uniquely more instrumentally upbeat than Loveless and more lyrically clear while still captivating with the “wall of sound” that is the band’s hallmark.

You Made Me Realise begins with the namesake of the EP and one of the strongest tracks in MBV’s catalog “You Made Me Realise,” a powerful song featuring soaring vocals from Kevin Shields and Belinda Butcher and a simmering guitar riff. As opposed to the use of vocals as sounds more than anything in Loveless, the lyrics are quite clear even amid distortion and carry out the frenzied pace of the song. A little past the minute and a half mark, the song begins to descend into a very thick layer of guitar distortion, almost seeming to showcase the use of ambiance to deliver the surrealistic sensations of their music, before the standard guitar riff reappears to close out the forceful opener.

More relaxed and dreamy is “Slow,” which seems to make little effort in trying to conceal that it is about a blowjob. Shields’s groaning vocals encapsulate the quite explicit nature of the song, which fits under the intimate themes in much of MBV’s music. Evident here is a consistent ambient melody through the entire song that is indicative of Loveless. More sunny and pleasant images come to mind in the next song “Thorn,” which showcases MBV at one of their lightest moments. The strongly pop-oriented melody is only restrained by the distorted ambiance that carries on in the background.

“Cigarette in Your Bed” brings the EP back into a darker, dreamier landscape that is complemented by cryptic lyrics (“Arms untied / Scratching your eyes out / With a smile”). Be it some description of S&M or something else, while the song is perhaps a bit off-putting, the band keeps the song from reaching any more morose with the familiar fast strumming of an acoustic guitar and more innocent vocalized melody from Butcher.

The EP’s conclusion with “Drive It All Over Me,” the only song here given joint-writing credits between band members (the others written by Shields), shows that each band member was right on the same page. Back into “Thorn” territory, “Drive It All Over Me” is another uplifting daydream, spearheaded by the once-again innocent vocals of Butcher backed by a wall of distortion and powerful drumming from Colm O'Ciosoig.

Alongside the popularity of Loveless, You Made Me Realise showcases the band’s ability to apply the same shoegazing innovations to a more down-to-earth release that could even be considered more accessible.

Album Review: Cut Chemist - The Audience's Listening

Cut Chemist: The Audience's Listening

[Warner Bros 2006]

5/10

The wikki-wikki scratch from a DJ’s turntable is, in essence, a musical surprise. A steady melody is stopped abruptly and a most unnatural scratching fuzz takes over. The DJ freezes the original piece in place, goes forward and backward in time, makes it do his bidding. It can be exciting, it can be as fun as hell, but standing in front of a huge apparatus of musical control, it’s understandable that a DJ is susceptible to letting all that power go to his head in a bad way. What might an over stimulated DJ sound like? Perhaps something like The Audience’s Listening, the first solo, full-length album of Cut Chemist, who is off-stage known is Lucas McFadden. While certainly enjoyable and interesting for several key tracks, Cut Chemist’s time to shine on his own suffers from the symptoms of a DJ just trying to do too much with his resources without a coherent plan.

Cut Chemist’s first solo album comes off of a long history of affiliations, compilations and contributions to other artists. In addition to his work with Latin fusion band Ozomatli, alternative hip hop group Jurassic 5, and a diverse list of other artists in the late ‘90s and early ‘00s, Cut Chemist conspired with sampling legend DJ Shadow on several DJ mix albums that more closely characterized the alternative club/dance/hip hop of Cut Chemist’s The Audience’s Listening. This latest collaborative duo opens the door for what could be some largely harsh comparisons between the two. However, with the comparative successes of DJ Shadow’s sampling work, as on the colossal critical hit Endtroducing from 1996, and Cut Chemist’s respected but less acclaimed behind-the-scenes engineering, the duo hints at a master-apprentice relationship between DJ Shadow and Cut Chemist. Regardless, Cut Chemist’s solo album is his opportunity to chart his own artistic direction independent of DJ Shadow’s. To give McFadden a fair shake, let’s table the DJ Shadow comparisons for now.

That said, Cut Chemist’s hybrid of club genres on The Audience’s Listening doesn’t quite play to the club scene, nor does it cater perfectly to an earphones listen or radio. In whatever environs, the album falls short of being an engaging listening from start to finish. The songs, which seldom break from a sense of repetition, feature promising, often electronica-influenced beats that aren’t employed to their full potential. Examples include “Metrorail Thru Space,” which unsurprisingly evokes thoughts of futuristic space missions but with vocal accenting that wears off the novelty quick, and “2266 Cambridge,” whose brooding beats and cityscape atmosphere end up not going anywhere. The reverse, in which Cut Chemist’s techno stylings mar an interesting vocal layer, occurs with “Storm,” where the abrasive rapping of Edan and Mr. Lif is dulled by an obnoxious, spacey beat of honks and beeps that leaps too far out of the background and into the foreground of the song.

What should instead be a major asset to the DJ, Cut Chemist’s scratching does little to advance the drama or excitement of the pieces. As if filling a quota, Cut Chemist’s scratches focus on already dull sections of songs, particularly the clichéd children’s screams on “(My 1st) Big Break” that are not enlivened by scratching. All in all, the scratching just doesn’t “ooh” and “aah” like it should, and the more times it fails to illicit a response, the more irksome it gets. However, the one ironically shining moment of Cut Chemist’s scratching here is on “Spat,” in which a clever use of scratches take center stage over a lounge piano and bass groove to create a humorous sketch.

Back to “(My 1st) Big Break” the song is a jumbled, annoying mess (save for a cool glass shattering effect) that epitomizes the excessiveness of Cut Chemist’s tweaking with his resources. The song further suffers from an atrocious overuse of blank vocal samples that creeps into other songs as well and is rarely interesting until the opening of “Spoon.” When it’s not a vocal sample that lets Cut Chemist down, it’s usually an actual singer or rapper. Aside from the moronic “The Audience is Listening Theme Song,” “What’s the Altitude” is the worst vocal culprit and probably the album’s worst song. In addition to inconsequential scratching and sampling, the hip hop tinged singing of Hymnal sounds horribly laid-back, mailed-in, and silly on top of atrocious lyrics.

Amid the dullness that permeates most of the album, the few bright spots on The Audience’s Listening are worth a listen. Despite a fierce non-message, “Spoon” features an almost Gorillaz-esque groove of a prominent bassline and funky guitar and is one of the few organic-sounding parts of the album. Another such moment of brilliance is the Brazilian bossa nova journey of “The Garden,” which is far and away the best song here. The song is a mysterious and dramatic piece with interesting scratching and appropriate vocal samples. At center stage, Cut Chemist resurrects the angelic “Berimbau” by Astrud Gilberto (of “The Girl from Impanema” fame) to give the “The Garden” a natural gracefulness and quality the rest of the album doesn’t touch.

Whether due to uninteresting scratches, thoughtless vocal sampling or poor basic song design, The Audience’s Listening simply lacks life. Except for on a few choice tracks, the songs come and go with nothing learned, nothing felt, and not even a particularly fun beat to dance to. Cut Chemist’s future works would be best served by a better control of his own DJing tools; perhaps turning down the bells and whistles, bringing back the surprise to the record scratch and injecting some more heart and soul into his compositions. Ultimately, in Cut Chemist’s moment in the spotlight, he throws a plethora of techno beats, random voice samples and plenty of scratching onto the album’s musical palette, but very little sticks.

Album Review: George Strait - 50 Number Ones

George Strait: 50 Number Ones

[MCA Nashville 2004]

9.5/10

He isn’t an early singing-songwriting pioneer of the early country music sound, as that was Hank Williams. He has never quite gained the cross-genre celebrity, and certainly not the rebel image, of the legendary Johnny Cash. To those who have not grown up with and enjoyed his music for so many years, the pretense for George Strait’s position as the king of modern country music is in the numbers.

Strait has sold 65 million recordings, has a record 42 #1 songs on the Billboard country charts, the third most gold or platinum-certified albums ever behind Elvis and the Beatles, and he has had a record 55 #1 songs on all country charts. When Strait hit the big 50th #1 hit with “She’ll Leave You With a Smile” in 2002, it came as no surprise that two years later his top hits would be compiled into one album. Perhaps needless to say, it is a masterful collection from a living legend.

The 2-disc 50 Number Ones tracks Strait’s string of hits over 20 years starting in 1982. It starts with the first release of Strait’s new single (at the time) “I Hate Everything,” which turned out to be his 51st #1 hit. Following this, without any further ado, are all the #1 hits in chronological order. While more than a handful of these songs are instantly recognizable as modern country radio staples, others may be familiar only to the at least 40-somethings who have enjoyed Strait’s music from the beginning. This makes the album accessible for newcomers to Strait’s music as well as long-time fans young and old.

It’s nearly impossible for George Strait fans to have any qualms with this record. There are several great hit songs that, by the rigid technicality of the lack of a #1 ranking, are not here, most notably “Amarillo By Morning,” which despite becoming one of Strait’s most popular songs in his entire catalog, never became a top hit. Otherwise, this album is sure to satisfy, from the heartbreak songs like “Let’s Fall to Pieces Together,” to the impossibly cute “Check Yes or No” and the powerfully optimistic “Blue Clear Sky.”

Listening chronologically, you understand why Strait’s music has made him one of, if not the, most esteemed and worshipped men in country music: the formula. While the development of Strait’s career are marked by the inching up song lengths and the incorporation of better song production and more pop-friendly choruses, he remains true to his western honky tonk roots throughout. Strait’s often-subtle adaptations to the changing country music scene have let him court new era country fans as well as older country mainstays.

If you are just not a country music fan, then this album is not for you; for George Strait is the best embodiment of traditional country music. On the other hand, if you consider yourself a country fan, the greatest hits collection from country’s greatest hit-maker is an essential.

Album Review: Title Tracks - It Was Easy

Title Tracks: It Was Easy

[Ernest Jenning 2010]

6.5/10

I caught Title Tracks live by chance about a year ago when they played the last set of the Fort Reno outdoor concert series, a summertime tradition in Washington, DC. The hipster-ish audience had properly cogitated over the previous high-concept bands when Title Tracks started playing a slice of infectious pop as irresistible to the artistic set as it was to the passersby on the street. Soon enough, a few dozen people had gotten up from their blankets on the grass and started dancing together in front of the stage like they were all best friends. It was a memorable scene to see just about everyone letting loose so blissfully, but I’ll also remember it for one guy struggling to let down his guard: frontman John Davis.

Davis is not averse to this kind of setting. For years he was on drums for the notable post-hardcore outfit Q and Not U and briefly performed with Laura Burhenn in the indie pop project Georgie James. I didn’t necessarily need him to sell his music with a commanding stage presence that night, although that would have surely improved matters. Standing somewhat rigidly and giving only shy half-smiles early in the performance, Davis didn’t quite reflect the exuberance of his music that the rest of us were so charmed by. Regardless, I tracked down the debut LP It Was Easy upon release six months later to see if the lack of confidence translated to the recorded medium. For all Davis’ skill in crafting tight and universal pop songs, It Was Easy begs for a little more assertiveness at the helm.

As Title Tracks, Davis seems intent on playing his favorite kind of broad-appeal powerpop that was obscured in Q and Not U and perhaps not fully embraced in Georgie James. Surely songs like “Every Little Bit Hurts” and “Steady Love” are irresistible testaments to his impressive songcrafting. Each accomplishes what any proper pop song should: delivering an exceptional chorus and bouncing around in your head long after their three minutes are up.

A half dozen or so tracks prove Davis’ skill in melody, but they don’t always translate to successful pop. The aggravating jingle “Black Bubblegum” and the simplistic “No, Girl” feel overly deliberate in a quest for universal likeability. Painting more of the songs, unfortunately, is a lacking production quality. When Davis isn’t at his most convincing, the songs feel recorded on a tight budget when the sonic subject matter deserves much more. Within the context of fairly simple pop songs, muffled lyrics feel more like production flaws than stylistic choice. Perhaps it was too easy.

The ultimate surprise on the record is two guest appearances by Tracyanne Campbell from renowned Scottish indie pop group Camera Obscura. She provides backing vocals on “No, Girl” and, much more noticeably, alongside Davis on a so-so cover of “Tougher Than the Rest”. (Campbell seems to be passing this around: Camera Obscura performed their own excellent cover earlier this year.) I don’t know how Campbell became familiar with Title Tracks, let alone decided to contribute vocals to them, but while it’s a pleasant addition, she’s ultimately not a game-changer here.

What may read and sound like an underwhelming debut I actually prefer to contextualize as a promising debut that’s just stumbling out of the gate. The album’s hooks, and Davis’ efficiency in cranking them out, are undeniable, but a brighter future would be characterized by a shoring up of production issues and incorporating a broader melodic palette so that each track isn’t a simple sink-or-swim pop song. Oh, and also, smile!

Album Review: Five Iron Frenzy - Our Newest Album Ever!

Five Iron Frenzy: Our Newest Album Ever!

[Five Minute Walk 1997]

 6.5/10

Christian bands get a bad rap. Often categorized as preachy, musically predictable, and melodramatic, explicitly Christian musicians more often than not rub less- or non-religious listeners the wrong way. Simply put, most Christian music seems to preach to the choir, leaving little room for newcomers to the faith or those who want to listen to the music but bypass the messages expressed.

In the crowd of such bands, Five Iron Frenzy, a ska punk outfit from Denver, became one of the few Christian bands to achieve modest appeal outside of their core religious fanbase in the late 90’s. It turns out all that was needed were some catchy, upbeat ska tunes and a lighter, less dense approach to the word of God. The proof lies in songs like “Oh, Canada,” in which lead singer and songwriter Reese Roper remarks, “I want to be where yaks can run free / Where Royal Mounties can arrest me.”

It is an understandable criticism that their brand of music was just one of many copycats and look-alikes that combined to form the third-wave ska explosion of the 90’s. The jumpy melodies, upbeat horn instruments, and satirical themes are all qualities found in many ska punk bands of the era including Five Iron Frenzy, but where the band lacks in musical originality they make up for in their unique Christian themes, mastery of the catchy ska chorus, and the clear, powerful vocals of Roper.

Through the rise and fall of third-wave ska’s mainstream popularity, Five Iron Frenzy lasted from 1995 to 2003. At the time of 1997’s Our Newest Album Ever, the band consisted of Roper on lead vocals, Micah Ortega on lead guitar and vocals, Scott Kerr on guitar and vocals, Keith Hoerig on bass, Andrew Verdecchio on drums and vocals, Nathanael "Brad" Dunham on trumpet, Dennis Culp on trombone and vocals, and Leanor Ortega on saxophone and vocals.

Regarded as one of the band’s best releases, Our Newest Album Ever! begins on an interesting note with “Handbook for the Sellout,” which chastises the longtime fans of alternative bands that become popular to the point that those same fans turn their backs on the past idols because, as the song states sarcastically, “Being popular is lame.” In addition to being quite catchy, the song is a funny commentary on the cool factor that comes with loving obscure bands. The issue of bands selling out, however, is nothing new that FIF is bringing to the table, not even to the 90’s ska scene: powerhouse Reel Big Fish kicked of their 1996 album Turn the Radio Off with “Sell Out,” the band’s biggest mainstream hit and a song about payola scandals on FM radio.

What “Handbook for the Sellout” as well as the next couple songs demonstrate is that the band extensively shifts the focus of their music from religion to common, if often childish and silly, situations and occurances that the masses can relate to. “Where is Micah?” is an extended musical joke on how guitarist Micah Ortega frequently missed band rehearsals. Following this is “Superpowers,” an upbeat song describing life as a band. What is interesting here is that the song very subtly hints at the band’s religious message: “Don't want to rock the mic / Don't want to meet the pope / I just want to share with you / How we got this peace and hope.”

After these three catchy yet similar songs comes the interesting “Fistful of Sand,” which seems to bare a Middle Eastern influence and clear lyrics describing the emptiness of life on earth without God. To complement the serious nature of the song, Ortega breaks out a loud guitar riff implying impending doom while Roper sports an impassioned screaming of the lyrics just under 3 and a half minutes into the song that stands out against the other optimistic tracks here.

The album continues along at an excited pace, going back to high school days in “Suckerpunch” which reassures outcast youth that God still loves them, through the nonsensical joke/throwaway song “Kitty Doggy,” and “Blue Comb ’78,” Roper’s catchy but lame attempt at secular sentimentalism. The remainder of the album is marked by the infectious “Oh, Canada,” one of FIF’s best known songs, and “Every New Day,” a powerfully optimistic closer, that stick out amid a pool of solid yet repetitive songs.

The album is instrumentally polished and the band communicates well together to create good ska and pop punk melodies. But overall, in terms of instrumentation and songwriting, there are few big surprises as the band stays close to a bouncy ska rhythm formula. Roper’s songwriting skills yield satisfying rhyme schemes and, for Christians, some inspiring words of worship, but overall Roper is caught in the down-to-earth, often immature lyrics that are innocent but lacking much depth.

As far as 90’s ska bands go, Five Iron Frenzy fits into a common mold and formula with a large part of their individuality stemming from their Christian beliefs. Despite this, Roper’s clear, powerful vocals and tight instrumentation from the rest of the band make FIF a particularly interesting and fun ska band to listen to. Listeners can take what they like away from the band’s music in terms of religious teachings, but moreover, ska fans will enjoy a slew of infectious melodies with Our Newest Album Ever!.

Album Review: Quasi - Featuring "Birds"

Quasi: Featuring "Birds"

[Up 1998]

8.5/10

Photo by Nathan Backous

Forget New Year’s resolutions, forget self-improvement, forget about “getting out there”. If your stuck in the doldrums of existence, it can often be so much easier to let time pass you by and just accept the futility of the world and life itself. After all, aren’t we all just dust in the wind? Portland indie rockers Quasi seem to think so, but that’s nothing to get down about. The band could have found an outlet for their persistent pessimism in self-hating grunge or tearful emo. Instead, thankfully, Sam Coomes and ex-wife Janet Weiss prefer to wrap the shortcomings of life in sweet pop melodies and witty dark humor on 1998’s sorely underappreciated Featuring “Birds”.

The strong pop sensibilities of the group are perhaps a byproduct of years of rubbing shoulders with the legendary Elliott Smith, with whom the band toured, collaborated in the studio, and at a time, shared a band (Coomes and Smith in Heatmiser). But while Smith’s brand of pop barely concealed the thoughts of a troubled mind, Quasi’s “*** happens” outlook on life makes for a much cheerier, if still bitter, message and album experience.

The album appropriately kicks off with “Our Happiness is Guaranteed,” which drops listeners into a chaotic pit of Coomes’ distinctive keyboards, Weiss’s drum slamming, and loud guitar fuzz before the main pop melody arises. Coomes’s light and clear voice is as pleasing and likable as is needed to take on the Quasi’s sardonic subject matter. His electronic keyboard is another powerful component of Quasi’s sound, contributing to the innocence of the melodies and their interesting contrasts to the lyrics.

Despite packing most of their tuneful pop jams into songs below the 3-minute mark, the band still finds time for wordless instrumental experimentation and ambiance building. “Nothing From Nothing” builds anticipation on a lengthy and energetic drum-led introduction (well, it’s 2/3 of the song, but still a great listen). “I Give Up” features bouts of rompy keyboard and crazed drumming before letting Coomes’ get a word in. The band even sets aside almost a minute and a half of simply birds chirping on “Birds,” the album’s self-proclaimed centerpiece (get it?).

As is clearly evident, the lyrical nature of Featuring “Birds” is darkly humorous and full of wisecracks and sighs on despair, hopelessness, and boredom. Summing up these notions, on “California” Coomes laments “Life is dull, life is gray / At its best it’s just ok / But I’m happy to report / Life is also short.” While Coomes smartly puts such downer musings into witty matter-of-fact phrasing, the pure pop intentions of the melodies and energetic instrumentation make the message work in consistently interesting, fun, and unique ways. And beyond being fun, the album is certainly funny (“Walt Disney cannot make me happy” Coomes moans on the mesmerizing “It’s Hard to Turn Me On”).

Considering the album’s plethora of solid pop gems, it’s difficult to pick favorites, as they are almost all designed for eager replay, if not a sing-along. Highlights surely include the sunny tempo pickup of “The Poisoned Well,” the utterly fantastic, rocking guitar riff of “Ape Self Prevails in Me Still,” and the delicate Elliott Smith-brand folk number “Please Do,” whose closer is probably the album’s most lyrically heartfelt, and heartbreaking, moment. Not to be forgotten are the vocal contributions of Weiss, who, in addition to acing the drums, sings the haunting “Tomorrow You’ll Hide” and provides sweet backing vocals, as on the drawn out howl of “Repetition.” Finally, the wordless concluding song “Only Success Can Fail Me Now” is, as the album’s final statement, a beautiful and lush piece of acoustic guitar strumming and a building-up drum beat that is a testament to Coomes and Weiss’s chemistry together (musical chemistry, that is) and a pleasantly optimistic sounding end to the album.

Armed with a knack for warm melodies and a biting humor, Quasi’s broadly accessible indie pop makes for an ironically fun celebration of the downers in life. In the end, perhaps Sam Coomes and Janet Weiss have been looking on the bright side all along (Coomes encourages us to “Smile, it’s not so bad” on 1999’s Field Studies, but that’s another issue). So, on the other hand, the good advice is to go out and actively enjoy life. Sure you’ll feel down sometimes, and sure you’ll want to, temporarily at least, just mire in your own dissatisfaction with life for awhile. At least now, when you do, you’ll know the perfect album to listen to. 

Album Review: Augustana - All the Stars and Boulevards

Augustana: All the Stars and Boulevards

[Epic 2005]

5/10

Coming away from Augustana’s 2005 debut album All the Stars and Boulevards, what first came to my mind was “I’ve heard this all before.” Sure, there are numerous songs that are really quite melodic and pleasing, but there is nothing groundbreaking on this mainstream pop rock release. Taking pages from bigger-named modern rockers like Dashboard Confessional, Goo Goo Dolls, and even a little from Matchbox Twenty, Augustana offers no big surprises, except for perhaps their biggest hit to date “Boston,” which is the album’s high point. Playing by the book, however, does mean emotional undertones and catchy choruses abound to satisfy an audience probably consisting mostly of teenage girls.

At the forefront of this soft rock barrage is lead singer, guitarist, and pianist Dan Layus, who actually holds his own as a strong vocalist, even if he does simply sound like a more contemplative John Rzeznik (Goo Goo Dolls). But unlike the Goo Goo Dolls, Augustana’s formula of a usually optimistic melody carrying pensive and often woebegone lyrics result in songs that are rather forgettable in the long run. Given this formula, it is best to describe the instrumental quality of the album as meeting the standards for anthemic teenage soft rock and doesn’t stand out as being particularly interesting or innovative. The job is done by Layus, Jared Palomar on bass, keyboards and backup vocals, Christ Sachtleben on guitar and mandolin, Justin South on drums, and John Vincent on keyboards and vocals.

Right off the bat, album opener “Mayfield” sums up much of the basic sound of Augustana. The chorus truly soars and is enhanced by vocal harmonization with the melody. Underneath the polished covering, however, are unclear and shallow lyrics. Basically, it sounds like something you would hear during a first kiss scene from some network teen drama. In much the same way, “Stars and Boulevards” uses relatively quiet verses to accent a dramatic chorus, only this time some more lyrical quality is present: “One last / Phone call from you / It wouldn’t hurt much / Just like to hear your voice / And pretend to touch / Any inch of you that hasn’t said it all or read it all / I sung my life away.”

Just before this is “Boston,” which is the band’s main hit, and deservedly so. The song is strongly driven by an excellent piano melody played by Layus that quietly leads up to a powerful, lengthy chorus that appeals to the desire for change and escape. Of note here is that it seems as if this hit single is the root cause of calling Augustana a “piano rock” band. While the piano does appear on numerous tracks, its impact on the song pales in comparison to its effect in “Boston.” Judging by the song’s music video featuring the band playing on a beach covered with old pianos, the band wants this as an image for themselves, perhaps enhancing their music’s emotional, sentimental underpinnings.

The album continues at a monotonous pace until slowing down for the decent “Sunday’s Best” which features a pleasant acoustic guitar. The album’s closer “Coffee and Cigarettes” is even more pleasantly led by gentle guitar picking and a serene complemented by some of the most dreamy lyrics and vocals on the album, making it one of the few songs that break from the common formula. Although doubtful, hopefully the band can make their last track’s innovative sound reverberate over the entirety of their next album.

In terms of substance and innovation, Augustana proves their depth only sporadically throughout the album. Rather, the band seems to be following a soft rock formula aiming for the emotional, melodramatic teenage audience, but at the same time staying away from the musical tendencies that would characterize Augustana as a flat-out emo band, which they are not. With the formula accordingly come the catchy hooks that make the genre popular and instantly likable to many. With that in mind, Augustana, for better or worse, are traveling a well-trodden path.

 

Album Review: Q and Not U - No Kill No Beep Beep

Q and Not U: No Kill No Beep Beep

[Dischord 2000]

8/10

The conventional understanding of punk, in particular that harsh brand that loyally draws lineage from the violent mosh pits of the hardcore ‘80s, tells you that punk is all politics. And if you consider D.C. punk? Well break out the megaphones, the White House is a few blocks away! But while the proud history of punk rock in the nation’s capital has surely seen plenty of anti-machine and “*** Bush” bands, some of the most important bands of the scene have eschewed the soapbox and instead got more personal and analytical; the targets of firebombs are not world leaders but societies, perceptions, ourselves. They are bands that not only leave us more impassioned, but also smarter.

Add Q and Not U to the list of such groups. Their 2000 post-hardcore debut No Kill No Beep Beep is as slanted and code-talking as its title. The album enlightens, but certainly in a lyrically avant-garde way with cryptic one-liners and fragmented imagery. Deciphering listeners require dictionaries (“No cognoscenti / can stab critique in the back for making me cognizant”) and imaginations (“Tired of waking up with a new haircut every morning / so it’s no scissors in bed”). Much of the lyrics seem to vent the frustrations of the young and urban, albeit in abstracts.

However the interpretations go, you will at least find the band’s signs and symbols are more often than not ripped to shreds by jagged riffs, beeping guitars and furious drumming. Lead singer Chris Richards spits composed, clear vocals while leaving strangled cries to Harris Klahr, whose shaky pronunciations and unstable aesthetic nicely balances out Richards. It is more credit to Richards, however, for keeping No Kill No Beep Beep consistently melodic. As machine-like guitar beeps scream for attention on “And the Washington Monument (Blinks) Goodnight”, Richards’ composed singing retains clarity and weight. “Fever Sleeves” is perhaps the most melodic track here, however, as the guitars offer less resistance to the tuneful rise and fall of the action. On many other tracks as well, Q and Not U remain tuneful, even catchy, but they never lose their rough edges.

A cursory but reasonable description of No Kill No Beep Beep would be that it definitely sounds a good deal like fellow Washingtonians Fugazi. The band has clearly memorized End Hits and it’s dabbing of the punk rock brush into quiet, brooding compositions is not lost here: “Kiss Distinctly American” and closer “Sleeping the Terror Code” both explore quiet, pensive territory (and both are great songs, by the way). Furthermore, it is a D.C. punk band after all, so it’s not surprising that Q and Not U are on the legendary Dischord records and have Ian MacKaye’s fingerprints all over it, having produced the album. Richards even pays homage to Fugazi with a rewording of a line from “Do You Like Me” off of Red Medicine, something astute fans will register.

The album also abounds with dance-punk influences that suggest the influence of the Dismemberment Plan, another D.C. band. While never reaching the Plan’s level of silly insanity or Emergency & I’s pop-accessibility, Q and Not U share their herky-jerky flirtations with danceable music and offer flashes of light-hearted play (See: “Hooray for Humans” about a minute in).

But unless you’re a strict, no-fun purist, the fact that Q and Not U rubs shoulders with its influences does nothing to minimize the band’s own creative directions and punk energy. Q and Not U is not posturing, they are simply a product of their environment that has taken their influences and made a new animal with so much force and brains that they don’t need blow horns and lame sloganeering to make waves. Their unique fusion of styles is more than the sum of its parts on No Kill No Beep Beep. Their debut, smart and furious, firmly builds upon D.C.’s true punk tradition.