Ramona Falls. Prophet LP

Ramona Falls Prophet
2012, Barsuk


Martin White


7.1 / 10


Brent Knopf has always had my favorite vocal features with Menomena.  His is an innocent cadence, occasionally weary but often it is filled with a feeling of awe and wonderment.  It is a characteristic that separates him from his former bandmates' brazen confidence.  Menomena's final LP, Mines, found Knopf's influence shining through on "Killemall" and "INTIL," tracks whose origins felt pulled from Ramona Falls' debut LP, Intuit.  While Prophet feels like a continuing evolution in this direction, there are some potholes along the way.  


   

While these densely textured and intricately pieced together songs certainly do sound like the work of one of Menomena's founders, Knopf imprints an air for the dramatic on his music.  Prophet's tracks are also imbued with a measured thoughtfulness, though Knopf does not always handle these themes particularly cleanly.  Opener "Bodies of Water."  The song plays out like Ramona-Falls-by-numbers, introduced by tinkling pianos, layer upon layer of guitars, strings, stumbling percussion.  And the lyrics are filled with platitudes and cliches like "I have to...let go," "You can't take it back," "softest lips, sharpest tongue," and concludes with the narrator's desire to "swim there....where we fell in love."  It comes across as an overwrought breakup song, though I'm not sure that's what was intended. 


Though Knopf may not communicate his sentiments about love and life in the most artful way, his earnest delivery and knack for hooky melodies keeps these songs afloat.  The depth of sound on the record is quite vast, it all comes together on some deceptively simple choruses that are anthemic and very catchy.  "The Space Between Lightning and Thunder" and "Archimedes Plutonium" set themselves apart with their genuinely uplifting choruses that are drenched in layers of Knopf's gorgeous, trademark sound.  "Plutonium," in particular, is one of the album's highlights, pulling the sound back with handclaps, acoustic guitar, distant twinkles, before brushing it again with waves of tumbling keystrokes and deep piano reverb.  


Highly textured sounds and complex song structures are certainly one of the Ramona Falls/Menomena trademarks, yet occasionally these serve to obscure certain moments.  And though Knopf's piano-based themes are certainly one of the elements that makes his music stand out, he must also be careful that they don't start all sounding the same.  "Fingerhold" and "If i Equals u's" both begin very similarly and are flecked with some of the aforementioned issues.  The former has a very unnecessary prog-rock coda that awkwardly brings the song to a close, while the latter's refrain of "I haven't lived a day in my life" is obscured by an excessive use of synth bloops and feedback-laden guitar.  The two form a bit of a mess toward the middle of the LP.  Fortunately, the two tracks that bookend them, "Sqworm" and "Brevony" highlight two of Knopf's better rockers.  These tracks call back to Friend and Foe-era Menomena, full of chugging guitars and searing riffs, but it is their simplicity that help them stand out.


However, Prophet's most satisfying moment arrives with its penultimate song, "Proof."  Again Ramona Falls deftly combine strings, guitars, and piano to create a truly haunting send-off for the record.  It is an overwhelmingly pretty song that could easily become eye-rolling material without Knopf's deft hand. 

The Men. Open Your Heart LP

The Men Open Your Heart
2012, Sacred Bones Records

Martin White

8.7 / 10

The Men return with their successor to last year's Leave Home with Open Your Heart.  As with Leave Home, the band deploys sheets of distortion and feedback, but with a few more vocal hooks and catchy riffs lurking beneath the fuzz.  This is especially true of the mid-album run of "Please Don't Go Away," "Open Your Heart" and "Candy," the record's three most immediate songs. 



"Candy" is also the biggest surprise here, a rollicking acoustic near-ballad that exhibits strong shades of Westerberg and Chilton, and could have easily fit on Let it Be or #1 Record.  It's one of the band's first songs that stands out perhaps more for the lyrics and songwriting than for careening guitar riffs.  But there are plenty of those here, too.  "Cube" follows "Candy" with the band's trademark group vocals and chugging, searing, neurotic guitars.  Again The Replacements are a touchstone but this time it is a song like "We're Comin' Out" that may be the forbear for "Cube."  

The Men certainly touch on a lot of influences, from Sonic Youth ("Ex-Dreams") to kraut-rock ("Oscillation"), but they still manage to retain their own, clearly identifiable sound.  This is certainly thanks somewhat to their dense, noisy sound but also to the exhilarating, off-the-cuff spirit that pervades this record.  Open Your Heart exudes that no-nonsense attitude at every turn and it's one of the reasons the LP is so exciting and irresistible.  

Shearwater. Animal Joy LP

Shearwater Animal Joy

2012, Sub Pop

7.3 / 10

by Martin White

For the past decade, Shearwater has churned out new LP's like clockwork.  Every two years you can basically count on the group to release a new LP with a new wrinkle added to their sound.  For eleven years, they have been gradually molding and playing with their delicate and unique folk-rock sound.  But Animal Joy, their 7th LP, finds Shearwater taking perhaps their biggest step forward yet, simplifying their sound and crafting some of the most immediate songs in their repertoire.  Here, the band builds off of the harder-edged, more aggressive sound of songs like Palo Santo's "White Waves" or Rook's "Century Eyes."  Whereas those albums often relied slowly unraveling folk excursions, the songs here are more straightforward, concise, and even upbeat.  And singer Jonathan Meiburg  minimizes his pensive Mark Hollis side, replacing it with surging, exuberant proclamations that bring to mind Richard Thompson's most inspired work. 

And Meiburg really does sound like Thompson at times (though he certainly doesn't match the the English accent) while the narrative imagery of opener "Animal Life" and rollicking folk rock of "Immaculate" recall the great British folk artist's more recent work on Mock Tudor.  The Talk Talk side is not totally absent, but instead of the pensive, textured sounds of Laughing Stock, Meiburg's more straightforward songs go for the sophisticated, mature pop of Colour of Spring.  On "Open Your Houses" and "Believing Makes it Easy," hooky piano and guitar leads lend these songs an immediacy that Shearwater has never really had before.  Though "Open Your Houses" isn't exactly "Happiness is Easy," it is certainly one of Shearwater's catchiest and most instantly memorable songs to date.  

Just like the rest of Shearwater's work, this is not a terribly easy album to characterize as it doesn't fit in with much else that is going on in indie rock these days.  Even though they have further moved toward more conventional, louder songs, the band still occupies its own unique piece of territory and the emphasis on a heavier sound absolutely pays off.  The slow-burning build-ups are still here, with "Breaking the Yearlings" features a variety of thundering percussion instruments knocking away against a metallic and squealing guitars.  The longest track here, "Insolence," provides a view forward at the same time as it looks back to the band's trademark sound.  It begins quietly behind a skeletal arrangement of percussion and shimmering harp, before growing into a monolithic anthem of pounding piano chords, gritty guitar riffs, and Meiburg's gripping, howling refrain that "Joy is real / It's real / One more time, it's real."  So, sure, the group's more accessible side definitely pays off, but they still know how to write a great epic.

The more buttoned-up, direct approach isn't without its pitfalls, however.  It isn't immediately clear whether these simpler songs will necessarily stand the test of time, and there are a few songs here that do sound similar enough that it takes a handful of listens to really discern them.  On a few of the tracks the sound just feels somewhat cluttered and compressed, as if all of the vast instrumentation that the LP contains was condensed into a little container.  Meiburg's vocals also end up sounding a bit muddy on some of the songs, especially when he becomes overwhelmed and submerged by the reverberating kick drums and ambient noise that just seems to hang in the background.  On "Immaculate," for instance, his vocals feel like they've been compressed into a narrow bit of the sound-stage and they end up falling into a sort of compressed purgatory.  These songs are good enough that they probably could have cut back a bit on the additional instrumentation and vocal effects; a bit more negative space would be appreciated.

For the most part, Shearwater sounds more focused--and more energized--than ever.  And though Animal Joy is more easily digestible than their past work, it is no less thoughtful, and for me it is quite a bit more fun to listen to again and again.  

Burial. Kindred EP

Burial Kindred
2012, Hyperdub

8.5 / 10

by Will Fairchild

Burial (also known as William Bevan) has been in hiding for far too long. His eponymous debut album in 2006 gained him critical acclaim from nearly every music outlet, and after his stunning 2007 album, Untrue, Burial had amassed an impressively large fan-base. These two releases were enough to single-handedly create the genre we know as future-garage. Fusing elements of dubstep and garage with hazy ambient landscapes and manipulated high-pitch vocals, Burial imagines one of the most interesting and unique sounds of the London underground scene. After seemingly disappearing in 2007, Burial re-emerged last year and presented a short 3-song EP entitled Street Halo. It was open, deep, and masterfully produced. But his newest EP, Kindred, is easily his most cohesive work yet.

Kindred is a concept we can all relate to. Family members or very close friends. They are the people we share close connections with, they're also the people that can hurt us more than anyone, more than any other physical object in the universe--without them we can't function mentally for long. "Loner" opens with a sample from the movie Evil Dead II. "There is something out there" whispers a frightened man. Slowly the rain builds into a tumultuous, dark city street with windy, razor-sharp arpeggios piercing through everything. The next 30 minutes are filled with lamenting men and women lost in a storm, seemingly strangled through computers and slowed by time repeating lines like "I belong with you/Don't leave/You are the light." "Kindred" calls to mind the surrealism of a lost friendship, one that you know has failed and can never be restored. The end of these songs offer a sense of warmth, some sort of light at the end of the tunnel. Like crepuscular rays providing light after a storm, these short ideas at the tail end of each track offer guidance through rusty and sometimes often dark relationships. 

The trio of tunes represent Burial's tightest, most razor-sharp release yet. It's hard to say whether Burial has a collection of a hundred songs and picks the best to release, or simply works on one until it is perfect. Either way, fans are salivating for more and this EP is a new and exciting direction for Burial. Street Halo was a great collection of songs, but Kindred is more of a perfectly executed idea--a suspension in a dark, turbulent world. All that is left to ask is, what's next from Burial? Hopefully more of where Kindred came from.

Grimes. Visions LP

Grimes Visions
2012, 4AD, Listen on NPR

by Jordan Brown

9.2 / 10

In this day and age there are very few artists that know how to push the envelope in terms of composing truly unique music landscapes. However, Montreal-based singer Claire Boucher definitely has the know-how. With her third release, Visions, Claire takes on the role as a curator of “sound” as she style-flexes from genres such as IDM and glitch to trip-hop and dream pop with relative ease. The result is something I can only describe as a faux futuristic, almost otherworldly listening experience at times. 

Pulling from influences such as Enya, Aphex Twin, and Kate Bush, Visions is undoubtably an atmospheric journey from to start to finish. The bulk of the album is riddled with emotional and sensual overtones that find themselves forced through some sort of futuristic filter. The resulting product can only be described as fantastic. Despite all these alien descriptors, at its core Visions still feels very organic and natural in its presentation.

Experimenting with a variety of sounds, Claire still finds a way to entice listeners with incredibly catchy hooks and pulsating rhythms. Lead singles “Oblivion” and “Genesis” manage to do just that by mixing tribal-like influences with that of ultramodern percussion and electronic elements creating a sound that you'd expect to hear from neighboring planets. The two-minute track “Eight” takes a page right out of early Daft Punk’s book with a robotic backbone and a distinct pop hook. “Vowels = Space and Time” is a nod to her previous work, highlighting her distinctive falsetto over an ethereal ambience that takes the listener on a truly emotional and phantasmal trip. One of the album’s clear highlights is “Skin” which is possibly the closest thing to a completely stripped down, vulnerable slow jam that we have ever seen from her to date. “Cicumambient” and “Nightmusic” also stand out amongst the other greats on Visions, as both are truly rich, eerily sexy songs that you can’t help but want to blast through your speakers.

As a whole, there are very few faults to be found here. At 48 minutes and 13 tracks long, I am sure some will find fault with the album's length and cite that there is some filler that could be cut. However, I do not personally find this to be true. If anything, "Colour of Moonlight (Antiochus)" is the only true clunker on the album, as the song itself meanders around and ultimately fails to build into anything meaningful or exciting. With that said, Visions still remains the most cohesive and best Grimes album to date.

Visions is, in brief, a sonic listen from start to finish. It’s clear that Claire has taken marked strides from her earlier lo-fi releases and found a way to focus her often-schizophrenic sound into dazzlingly complex and impeccable works of pop genius. Beneath its software-sculpted landscape is a beautifully crafted album that is waiting to reward its listeners with each and every layer unearthed. Despite being admittingly crafted during a time of darkness in her life, it’s hard to not to see anything but a very bright future for Grimes.

John Talabot. ƒin LP

John Talabot ƒin

2012, Permanent Vacation

by Martin White

8.2 / 10

Spanish producer John Talabot's new LP, ƒin, is one of the sharpest, classiest, and most compulsively listenable techno records I've heard in quite a while.  Talabot builds dark, slightly ominous beats that defy easy characterization but belie a subtle incorporation of micro house and techno, breezy balearic, and R&B.  Talabot's skill lies in his ability to introduce a simple set of loops and beats, then constantly revolve them around one another, keeping the music interesting and the listener off-balance.  You never feel as if you are driving in circles, treading over the same ground.  Instead, the sounds are constantly weaving back and forth between different combinations of the same loops and beats, something added here, taken away there; Talabot's songs are constantly evolving, gradually building up steam until the final payoff.

ƒin is a clean, immaculately-constructed record but it excels because it is not purely intellectual house.  There is a strongly instictual element that complements the intellectual, and both of these sides work themselves out in the masterpiece of an opener, "Depak Ine."  It is the slowest track to develop out of the entire bunch, gradually layering ephemeral atmospherics onto the dark, loud beat.  There is always an element of found sound here, with chirping crickets and birds constantly living in the song's background.  These field sounds combine with the constricting beat to produce a feeling of roaming through the jungle floor.  But during the final third, the beat fully drops and the song becomes a serious, four-on-the-floor banger.  It's fantastic, adrenaline-pumping stuff.  

Of course, the opener may be the LP's best track and not everything here is perfection, most notably the vocals.  "Destiny" has some fantastics sounds and a great beat, but at times comes across as formulaic, mostly due to the nondescript vocal melodies from Pional.  It feels like it's headed for huge club banger territory, but it never fully lifts off.  The build-ups are gentler, less obvious, and when the beat drops for the last time, it happens quickly and without fanfare.  When Pional appears again at the end of the LP on "So We Will Now..." he and Talabot enjoy considerably more success.  On the finale, the two create a glitchy, propulsive sound with cut-up vocal samples all doing some soulful battle over a minimalist, deep-synth rumble.  The tone of the two different vocal elements is very evocative of James Blake's work on his self-titled LP.  But then Talabot just starts growing the atmospheric synths and stretching them out over the song until Pional is finally buried under the suffocating beat.  

Still, the vocals don't always succeed, as on the by-the-numbers "Journeys" with guest Ekhi.  Fortunately the record quickly hits its stride again with tracks like "Last Land," "Estiu," and "When the Past Was Present" which each bring different elements of Talabot's sound and influence to the forefront.  "When the Past Was Present," in particular, rides in on a quick tempo and drops a massive house beat that carries the track straight to the dance floor. 

ƒin is so good and so incredibly listenable because it takes smart, even sophisticated house music and makes it a hell of a lot of fun.  Certainly a simple track like "Estiu," one of the shortest bits here, can roll along just fine on its heavy, laid-back beat.  But it's that slowly shifting and gradually developing accoutrement of crackling tape loops and deeply buzzing synths that make this track worth coming back to again and again.  It's easy to get lost in the beat because these songs just groove so hard that they kind of rock.  But taking the time to explore the album's abysmal depths is equally as rewarding.

Sharon Van Etten. Tramp LP

Sharon Van Etten Tramp
2012, Jagjaguwar

by Martin White

8.4 / 10

Sharon Van Etten's Tramp feels like this year's successor to High Violet and The Walkmen's You & I.  Like Matt Berninger and Hamilton Leithauser, her lyrics often deal with her own shortcomings, self-consciousness, and the sad-ass shit of our every-day lives.  And this thing is littered with insightful statements that are full of gray imagery.  "Like cigarette ash, the world is collapsing around me" stops short of being totally depressing by being followed with the line, "Let's try to do the best we can."  But The National member and producer Aaron Dessner is certainly responsible to the comparisons to The Walkmen and his own band.  His recording gives many of the sounds a rounded-off-at-the-edges warmth and provides plenty of extra texture and instrumentation to the previously bare songwriting while still giving the music plenty of dimension and space.  On album highlight "In Line," Van Etten's voice is so close that it feels like she is singing right next to you.  And the snare clicks and snaps right inside your head, but there are these ghostly reverberations and artifacts of sound drifting in and out of the background that deepen the sound.  When she sings "When you were on my side / the world was shitty then" there is a distant echo, a distorted shadow of her own voice thrown against the murky backdrop.  The same effect is achieved with the hazy yet reassuring pianos that permeate "Magic Clouds." 
 

"All I Can" begins with a languid and relaxed pace, but Van Etten's vocal gradually becomes more motivated.  By the end, the song feels suddenly anthemic as she sings "I do all I can / We all make mistakes."  It's a mantra for the every-man and the every-things and it's a line to get you through the day.  The song is matched with the thoroughly uplifting "We Are Fine" to kick off the second side, with the latter appropriately featuring Zach Condon.  The touch of ukelele and the song's waltzing gait would put it right at home in the Beirut songbook.  Both Van Etten and Condon deal with social anxiety, and it is easy to see that coming to life in this song.  Yet, its lyrics have meaning that are far more universal and the gently cradling piano and ukulele give it an optimistic, looking-forward-and-not-back attitude.  

Occasionally, though, Dessner's warm and cozy production does become a bit overwrought and I am left missing the clearer, rawer sound of epic.  At times it is difficult to understand Van Etten's vocals when they are slightly muffled or crowded out by the extra instruments and ambiance of the production.  This does work in Tramp's favor on tracks like "Kevin's" where Van Etten's voice takes on a shrouded, mysterious quality.  But it can also keep her lyrics from cutting too deep or with as much force as they may have in the past.  This is the case for the nebulous "I'm Wrong," which just meanders along, buoyed and timidly supported by some horns and guitar feedback.  Perhaps a more focused piece of songwriting with the simplicity of Van Etten and a guitar would have worked better here.  

But then we get "Joke or a Lie," the closer and the quietest, simplest song here.  Van Etten's soft, gorgeous voice whispers lines like "Chip on your shoulder / how do you deal with that weight?" with the help of the occasional, sharply strummed acoustic string and some twinkling pianos.  Her voice pulls you in and the songs are catchy and memorable enough to remain with you for days.  But it's her direct, revealing songwriting that really makes Sharon Van Etten's music timeless.  

of Montreal. Paralytic Stalks LP

of Montreal Paralytic Stalks
2012, Polyvinyl

by Martin White

9.1 / 10

Paralytic Stalks is one fractured, disorienting mess of an album.  Not only is it fairly long, but it actually becomes more and more difficult to digest as it progresses.  It is a collage of ideas, meticulously constructed, then shattered and hastily thrown back together.  Any description I provide will surely fail to capture the full scope of the album's sound and content, but I'll try anyway.  There are spoken word passages, sometimes puzzling passages of avant-garde noise, deliriously catchy hooks--as good as anything Kevin Barnes has put on record since Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer, and countless layers of instrumentation and orchestration.  That this all comes together with even a shred of coherence is probably a stroke of genius.  Mostly, though, the record's barely controlled chaos reflects its personal nature for Barnes.  What you find in these songs is a reflection of his state of mind and the turmoil going on inside, concerning his depression, relationships, and beliefs.  Of course, none of that is likely to fall into neatly digestible song structures.  But this gives of Montreal's 11th LP a sense of freedom from convention and an unpredictability that results in a piece of work that is brilliantly exhilarating and exceptionally unique.  

The real key to the record's success is Barnes' renewed melodic and lyrical incisiveness.  He deposits track upon track of instrumentation, back-up vocals, fragments of sound and texture; but the central musical and lyrical motifs come through with a cleaner and more focused intent than anything he's released in half a decade.  "It's fucking sad that we need a tragedy to occur to gain a fresh perspective in our lives," he snarls at the start of "Spiteful Intervention." It's hard to imagine hearing a more sardonic indictment of our society.  But he doesn't stop there, delivering another stab with the line "Nothing happens for a reason, there's no point even pretending / You know the sad truth as well as I."  The song features a seething Barnes throwing barbs at whomever he pleases.  And often himself.  Here, like Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?, Barnes returns to the damaged ground of his own conscious.  "Ye, Renew the Plaintiff" is a plunge into self-loathing on the same scale as "The Past is a Grotesque Animal."  Except this time he has replaced the urgent-but-slow-burning disco with a stomping, insistent, and psychotic rock-out interjected with howling guitars and scarred pleas to his wife Nina.  Even when he "should be happy," he feels "corrupted, broken, impotent, and insane!"  These are the disturbing words of a man revealing what likes in the dark corners of his mind with a frightening directness.  

Musically, though, Paralytic Stalks is very different from anything in of Montreal's catalog or the current indie landscape.  There is a healthy list of touchstones and influences, however.  Barnes has said that he was inspired by progressive composers Krzysztof Penderecki and Charles Ives, and this becomes very evident on the back end of the record.  "Wintered Debts" and "Authentic Pyrrhic Remission" develop in multi-section suites, both featuring dissonant string conflicts before they resolve with a more upbeat conclusion.  But the first half of the record owes more to 70's glam rock than anything else, and the hooks on "Dour Percentage" are the best that David Bowie never wrote; a sublime hybrid of everything from Ziggy Stardust to Station to Station and Low.  "We Will Commit Wolf Murder" sounds like a direct descendant of The Flaming Lips with its percolating bass lines, tumbling and cascading drums, and swelling string arrangements, dripping with sarcastic melodrama.  He drops melancholy, neurotic refrains of "someone's terrorized my pysche to get even / lately you're the only human I believe in," while the revelation that "there's blood in my hair" calls back to Wayne Coyne's realization, on The Soft Bulletin, that "I accidentally touched my head / and noticed that I had been bleeding."

But in the end, it is Barnes' creative voice and personality that make this record.  The pure bass-driven funk of "Authentic Pyrrhic Remission" is exactly what of Montreal has always done best.  

It is also refreshing to hear Barnes return to a very personal place to create something out of pure expression, without concern for what critics will say or people will think.  It doesn't necessarily work all the time, and there are some questionable moments that might test your patience.  For one, it is not quite clear what part the "Revolution 9"-esque "Exorcismic Breeding Knife" plays here.  Perhaps it is just a subconscious expression of Barnes' Beatles fantasies that could not be filled by his pop contrivances.  The emotive string arrangements of "Wintered Debts" are significantly more purposeful.  Some will point to moments like "Exorcismic Breeding Knife" and claim pretension.  But great art (and music) is never universally loved anyway, and it takes a lot of risk and a sense of adventure to create something that is really worth standing the test of time.  Certainly Kevin Barnes has never shied away from taking risks, and this time he might just have crafted another near-masterpiece.  

Favorite Tracks: January

I thought about doing an album wrap-up for January but then said fuck it.  In its place, here are ten tracks from the past month (and probably a bit further back) that you need to hear.  I probably missed a lot, so correct me if you need to.

Grimes "Genesis"
Claire Boucher might just be the next big thing in indie music.   Songs like "Genesis" are daring but refreshing in their simplicity.  And absolutely exciting to listen to.  The goth/dream-pop aesthetic definitely requires some good doses of ethereal reverb, but it isn't used to obscure the music.  Instead, the sounds are bold, with the low, stuttering synthesizer pattern taking center stage. 


POLIÇA "Wandering Star"
Silky vocals meet gloriously crisp drums and bass.  Futurist, minimalist R&B.  There's a sighing, decaying accordion (?) sample constantly levitating in the background.  There's the jazzy, shifting rhythm section.  But its Channy Casselle's distinctive singing that steals the show and makes a real case for auto-tune as not just a novelty act.


The Men "Open Your Heart"
"Open Your Heart" is the first single to the same-titled album.  And what a great track it is.  The band's dirty, noisy, thrashing sound can't obscure the greatness of the riffs on this tune.  


Cloud Nothings "No Future/No Past"

Attack on Memory received this site's highest rating with an 8.7 from Justin Bautista.  And I agree.  The record is the class of January, and "No Future / No Past" is its best, most ominous, most brooding, most cathartic track.  When Dylan Baldi sings, I imagine his vocal chords looking a little something like this:

Chairlift "Wrong Opinion"
The post-punk rhythm is what really sets this song apart.  The deep bass and snappy drums just propel this thing along with so much attitude.  And they just keep motoring along through the fantastic coda before Caroline Polachek's ethereal vocals take the song out. 

ScHoolboy Q "There He Go"

Q shows off his supremely charismatic flow and the beat is phenomenal, twisting around the piano and sax of Menomena's "Wet and Rusting."  It's such an inventive beat, but it's also so subtly put together that it doesn't jump out at you.  Not the kind of sample you'd use to be cool because most who hear this thing aren't even going to recognize it.  

of Montreal "Dour Percentage"

I'll have a review oM's new LP next week, but "Dour Percentage" was probably my favorite single released in January.  Funky bass and sax, singing flute, multi-tracked vocals, and bar-room piano collide and when the verse ends and the hook begins is anyone's guess; the entire track is just that catchy.


Sharon Van Etten "Serpents"
"Serpents" was released toward the end of 2011, but the record is out next week and it is a fantastic first single.  It streamrolls in on the back of its sturdy rhythm section, but as with the rest of Tramp, Van Etten grabs you and doesn't let go, constantly delivering slinky, slippery melodies and pointed lyrics.  


The Shins "Simple Song"

The first song from Port of Morrow is promising, bringing hints of the keyboards and atmospherics that made Broken Bells so intriguing.  This is certainly a heavier, harder rocking direction for the Shins, as the highlight of the verses is a sharp guitar riff that could have been on Genesis' Foxtrot.  


Porcelain Raft "Shapeless & Gone"
Strange Weekend didn't particularly impress me (though Brendan Athy enjoyed it), but "Shapeless & Gone" is one of the LP's best songs.  It's a great slacker jam full of Galaxie 500-isms like the lazily strummed acoustic guitar and the shots of distant, reverb-laden electric guitar.  

ScHoolboy Q. Habits & Contradictions LP

ScHoolboy Q Habits & Contradictions
2012, TDE

by Martin White

6.4 / 10

Habits & Contradictions is the second LP from Black Hippy member ScHoolboy Q.  Of course, Kendrick Lamar hit it big last year as a part of that outfit, and Q seems to be set to be the next to take off.  He's got a catchy flow and cadence and a knack for being able to adjust his voice to match the attitude of a given track.  And this thing absolutely has its share of great tracks and fantastic beats.  But the problem with Habits for me is that Q just gets so caught up his foibles, impulses, and fixations (most of which center around women) that it becomes difficult to get a real sense of his personality. 

Like a lot of hip-hop discs, this thing is pretty long.  There are a ton of tracks here and with that comes some filler.  Some of it doesn't really make much of an impression negatively or positively, but tracks like "Sexting" and "Sex Drive" and "NiggaHs.Already.Know..." feature hooks that are annoyingly repetitive.  Their monotony lulls me into a bizarrely numb state of unconsciousness for their duration that leaves me strangely confused when they end.  And then there's the fact that so many of these tracks are littered with references to Q's obvious obsessions and insecurities about "hoes" and "bitches."  He is often so hung up on getting laid that it just obscures any depth his rhymes might otherwise have had.  Unfortunately, there isn't a whole lot of actual content or meaning beneath the surface.  

The production on this thing is damn good, though.  It has those floating, ethereal atmospherics that formed LiveLoveA$AP.  These beats are not so shimmering and pretty, though.  Instead, they are grimy and seedy, living in the shadows and dark alleys.  "My Hatin' Joint" is one of the best tracks here, its beat perfectly matching the laid-back, chopped and screwed rhythm that A$AP Rocky mastered on his LP.  So it's no surprise that Rocky does appear here, on "Hands on the Wheel."  The track has one of the catchiest hooks on the entire record, but it is somewhat marred by Rocky's weak verse that just rehashes the topics ("purple drink" and a lot of dope) that he covered on his own mixtape.  

There are a handful of great tracks here, though, and that's what you have to take away from Habits & Contradictions.  It does create a textured, fleshed-out sound and it's hard not to respect the unique places that some of these beats pull from.  On "There He Go," Sounwave creates a subtly shifting beat by smoothly cutting up the most moody elements of Menomena's "Wet and Rusting," then layering on some crisp live boom-bap drums.  Q then kills it with one of his most charismatic flows.  And you have to respect a track like "Gangstas in Designer," which pulls a flute sample from 70's prog-rock (Genesis' "Firth of Fifth) to create a beat that sounds more like Dave Brubeck.  It's exciting and it's not obvious, unlike Kanye's slap-you-in-the-fast sampling of King Crimson's "21st Century Schizoid Man." 

Also not to be missed are "My Homie," "Grooveline Pt. 1" and  "Blessed" (featuring Kendrick Lamar).  All of these tracks also have the suspended, uneasy jazz beats that were all over Section.80, but "Blessed" clearly shows Q's promise.  He's got an indelible flow, and like Kendrick, he's got the ability to make you feel the urgency of his rhymes no matter what the content.  


Listen to "There He Go." 

Chairlift. Something LP

Chairlift Something

2012, Kanine Records

by Martin White

7.5 / 10

Perhaps adult alternative is the next thing for hipsters to attach to and exploit for its irony.  With Something, Chairlift may have beaten everyone to the punch, though.  Their new LP is filled with the kind of smooth pop that shouldn't be cool.  They create an immaculately clean aesthetic, just a little reminiscent of the sound that Steely Dan aimed for; their knack for simple hooks recalls the quirky catchiness of synth-pop veterans Junior Boys.  But Chairlift's sound is much warmer and more human, anchored by a deep, pulsing low end and expressive vocal performances from Caroline Polachek.  

Her impressive range allows her to shift and transform her voice to match the needs of each particular song.  Occasionally, Chairlift relies a bit too much on Polachek's ethereal vocal to make something out of a song like "Turning."  However, the new-wave / dream-pop of "I Belong in Your Arms" succeeds because of her precocious, earnest refrain.  However, Polachek and Patrick Wimberly do create some deceptively strong musical arrangements, always knowing just when to throw in some foreign instrumentation to the confident mix of bass, drums, and synthesizer.  Album highlight "Wrong Opinion" is propelled by its persistent post-punk bass, but the metallic, clattering percussion is what really separates the song from the rest.  It's a moment of revelation that takes a nice, moody piece of new wave and gives it a shock of suspense with a sound straight out of an eighties action-comedy soundtrack. The introduction of a lightly strummed acoustic guitar on "Frigid Spring" initially sounds out of place, but Polachek quickly makes her case as the female James Mercer as she delivers summery verses that are reminiscent of early Shins.  

The entirety of the first half of Something is pretty inscrutable, each of the first six tracks are brimming smart hooks and impressive songwriting.  On tracks like like "Sidewalk Safari" and  "Take it Out on Me," the funky, head-nodding beats are excellent vessels for sparkling synthesizer figures and Polachek's playful vocals.  But it's not all bubbly synth-pop; on "Ghost Tonight," the beat's underlying nineties R&B influence is revealed in full in the chorus' huge gymnastics chorus.  And the gauzy, moody, shadowy neo-soul of "Cool as a Fire" would not sound out of place alongside Sade's "No Ordinary Love;" it's a song that surely has more to do with adult contemporary than the current indie pop trends, but the influences are incorporated so neatly that you don't bother to stop and notice.  

Something is not without flaws, however, as the quality of the second side drops off substantially.  There is the awkward "Met Before," which matches somewhat tuneless verses with a far-too-effervescent refrain.  It's a song that sounds like it is just trying as hard as it can to be a single.  Unfortunately, you can't create a chorus out of nothing.  "Amanaemonesia" opens with a tumbling bassline, but the vocals never quite match up with the jittery rhythm before the song disjointedly drops into its cloying chorus.  The overarching focus of the record holds it together in the end, though.  There is a lot of variety here, but every song feels distinctly part of the world of sound that Chairlift has crafted.  A lot of that is thanks to Polachek's charisma, but also to the consistent rhythms and beats that worm their way into the back of your head. It's an intoxicating sound that sticks with me in a way that most indie pop does not.  

Howler. America Give Up LP

Howler America Give Up
2012, Rough Trade

by Michael Piske

7.6 / 10

At cruxes in our society’s history, we have needed a soundtrack for the times: records and songs providing crucial social commentary that cuts through the muddle and speaks directly to what people are thinking, feeling, and acting upon. Despite the title of Howler’s anticipated debut, this is not that kind of album.

And that is completely okay.

First, some other things that America Give Up is not: lyrically profound, especially original, musically expansive, or long in duration.

But again, this is just fine.

Howler, the brainchild of Jordan Gatesmith and his young Minneapolis pals, don’t try to achieve these lofty explorations. Instead, they have more fun in 32 minutes than you had in the last three weekends.

Upon first listen, one may take the easy way out, declaring that they’re just a Strokes/Television knock-off, plowing through fuzzy surf rock jams as Gatesmith tries hard to sound like he doesn’t give a shit, with lines like “I wish there was something I could do / ‘cause I hate myself more than I hate you” from “Told You Once”.

But when you let your guard down a bit, one realizes that Howler is just doing what they love - and having a blast while they’re at it. Their influences are obvious, but they pay them due respect. On the incredibly delectable “This One’s Different”, which feels as if it were picked up off the Is This It cutting room floor, dusted off, doused in PBR, and magnificently spit back out, Gatesmith sings “I said I could live without your touch / If I could die within your reach”.

For the most part, they push all the right classic garage/surf rock buttons at precisely the right moments. Opener “Beach Sluts” switches between sunny hand-claps and upbeat double time with squealing guitars. “Back Of Your Neck” has the ubiquitous “woo woo” vocal accompaniment to its signature guitar lick - oh, and a whammy-bar drenched guitar solo for good measure.

There is inconsistency and some repetition of course. The sonically wonderful fifth track “Too Much Blood”, a sunset-induced lazy jam that counts as the records only ballad, comes just as the listener is beginning to wonder if they have indeed listened to four separate tracks preceding it. “Pythagorean Fearum” gets way too ahead of itself, and the band members seem to struggle to keep up. The closer “Black Lagoon” feels more like when you’re wondering why your still up and everyone else is passed out, instead of the half-drunk walk to your car the next morning that the album should conclude with.

Not every good album needs to “mean something” or “make a statement” or “change you”. Not every sound has to be “ground-breaking”. Not every band needs to be “the next (insert artist here)”. America Give Up shows that as long as you’re having fun, who cares?

Craig Finn. Clear Heart, Full Eyes LP

Craig Finn Clear Heart, Full Eyes
2012, Vagrant Records

8.5 / 10

by Justin Bautista

Diet Cola. Light Beer. Decaf roast. Not exactly a Mississippi riverbank kind of party. But a de-imbibed and subjugated version of Craig Finn is pretty much what everyone expected from Clear Heart, Full Eyes. And the anticipation for the record had been mostly that—sobering.

Those most disappointed with the last Hold Steady output, 2010’s Heaven is Whenever, understandably questioned whether Finn’s creative flask was running dry, or if it had just plain evaporated. The sing-along songs were triumphant yet sparse, the felon beat-evangelists were hush and faithless, and the lovable underdog characters were non-existent, save our favorite "pretty good waitress."
With the lead singer’s solo effort, one should beware the absence of other Hold Steady staples: be it the fiery jolt of Tad Kubler’s guitar, the comforting buzz of Finn shouting rock novels into your ear, or the tavern-counter choruses that rupture vocal cords in bars and cars across America. But when standouts like “When No One’s Watching” and “New Friend Jesus” come on for the first time, the missing pieces become an afterthought. Our saucy, pseudo-melodic savior is putting doubters to rest.

Craig’s got some hypnotizing new parables to tell his thinking-man congregation. He replaces stories of hard drugs, murder, and sorority girls with songs of deceitful admiration, hopelessness, and — yes — love. We reunite with some old friends such as Gideon and Jesus Christ himself, and we’re introduced to some new buddies who all make a great first impression, such as the heartbreaking “Jackson” and the unstable Stephanie. Even ‘Maria’ makes a cameo—perhaps harkening to the same lover that tore up fellow sleeve-hearted frontmen Adam Duritz and Brian Fallon. 

Finn’s most hardcore apostles may find themselves touching upon a sensation that a Hold Steady album has never made them feel—that is, surprised. As we can immediately tell from the opener “Apollo Bay”, this backing band isn’t quite from the same part of the city. From the southern Whiskeytown twangville of “Terrified Eyes” and “Balcony”, to the gritty British pop grooves of “Honolulu Blues” and “No Future”, it sounds like they have flown in from everywhere. Fans may be divided on whether or not it works.

As exotic as they sound, the sugary refrains are just as sweet. But the unfamiliar violins and slide guitars take us on a different journey—one that must be musically liberating for Finn. So when you go see him on tour this winter, trade in your 40’s for something more forgiving. Don’t ever stop singing along, though. Perhaps through Craig’s newly inspired lyrics maybe you, too, can find out how a resurrection kind of feels.

Porcelain Raft. Strange Weekend LP. Two Takes

Porcelain Raft Strange Weekend
2012, Secretly Canadian, (photo courtesy Album of the Year)

8.1 / 10

by Brendan Athy

On the surface, Strange Weekend seemingly fits into the category of generic dream pop that has dominated the indie scene for the past three years or so. It is hard to sound fresh when the formula is simple: lots of loops (drums, synths, basslines), an ethereal atmosphere, and whispered, airy vocals about existential subjects. It is even harder when you will inevitably be grouped together with respected acts such as Beach House, Wild Beasts, and The Radio Dept.  In the midst of a genre that has become quite repetitive and derivative, Mauro Remiddi--the man behind the instrumentation, lyrics, and vocals of Porcelain Raft--has created a piece of music that seems formulaic on the surface but offers something unique when stripped to its core. 

But before we dive into what is special about Strange Weekend, let it be clear that on first listen, it will sound like every other dream pop act (just with more reverb) that gets a 6 – 7.5 score from Pitchfork, Consequence of Sound, or any other music critique site that (unintentionally) strives for pretentiousness. The hook for Strange Weekend, at its foundation, is a handful of extremely accessible songs that are catchy and mysteriously intriguing. The opening track, “Drifting In And Out,” which is reminiscent of the guitar riff from Memoryhouse’s “To The Lighthouse,” describes exactly the beauty of the record; you will drift in and out of this record. That may sound like a characteristic an artist would generally try to avoid but Remiddi seems to embrace it. 

There are the stand-out tracks that will be easy to pick out upon first listen: “Drifting In And Out” with its catchy acoustic guitar riff and introduction to Remiddi’s high pitched voice; “Put Me To Sleep” combines an infectiously jumping drum beat with some layered introspective lyrics about the perils of being drunk at a party while searching for a girl just to fall asleep with; and the highlight of the album, “Unless You Speak From Your Heart," its flawless production (earworm synths, shoegazing electric guitar riffs, blaring snare drums) and Remiddi's best vocal performance. If you’re like me, you will drag these songs into a playlist to listen to again and disregard the rest of the album.  However, that would be a major mistake as this record really shines on subsequent listens. 

“Shapeless & Gone” sounds like a song you’ve heard hundreds of times before but that is what works for it--familiarity. It has that quality that welcomes revisits to a song even though you’ve heard it a countless amount of times. “Backwords” comes off as a cheesy, epic ballad initially but upon another listen you notice how well it flows and, once again--as is true throughout the record--the production is stellar with layers and layers of sound. “Picture” is just a straight-up great indie pop song and doesn’t try to be anything more; it’s simple and that is refreshing on a record that has a good amount of “noise” on it. 

What is important about Strange Weekend is that it shows that the boundaries of dream and indie pop are still expanding. In this case, some of the experimentation present can be a pleasure, as is the slow breakbeat drums and glitches on “If You Have A Wish," but in others, not so much. “Is It Too Deep For You” has a synth lead that is comprised of about three notes (not the catchy “Niggas In Paris” kind) that is bland, repetitive, and annoying.  On"Is it Too Deep For You," the constant wailing is downright irritating. Overall though, the great moments shine much brighter than the lulls by quite a considerable margin. This is a special dream-pop record in a genre that is being plagued by mediocrity. 
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

5.7 / 10

by Martin White

Strange Weekend is a frustrating record because occasionally it is great, a sublime mixture of ethereally lush textures with a deep, deep sound, but too often it becomes mired in reverb-laden mediocrity.  When Porcelain Raft, aka Mauro Remiddi, allows a bit of clarity to come through, as on the chiming "Shapeless & Gone," he can really strike a nerve.  But there are simply too many moments where the sum of all of his loops, textures, miscellaneous sounds, and echoing vocals all add up to much less than the sum of their parts, and that's a bit unfortunate.

Porcelain Raft is at least efficient in its brevity, but after a handful of listens only a few of the ten tracks make much of a lasting impression.  Each of these songs follow a pretty typical formula.  A song is introduced with a rhythm or loop that forms its foundation, and that loop often remains the same for the entire song.  From there, more and more sounds and instruments are stacked on top, often with a thick layer of reverb.  Shimmering chimes, buzzing synthesizers, echoing drums, falsetto after falsetto, all playing at once.  

Remiddi crafts a lush, full sound with a nice range of highs and lows, but it is his trademark sound that ends up obscuring any potential for his songs to stand out.  Some songs lean a bit more toward the R&B-influenced territory occupied by Active Child, others incorporate a little bit of the by-the-numbers adult-alternative slowcore of The Antlers' Burst Apart, and there are even moments that give a nod to the amorphous soundscapes of chillwave.  In some cases ("If You Speak From the Heart"), all of this is combined with a generic message to top it all off.  

But all is not lost, and the album succeeds when it brings the acoustic guitars to the front.  A bit of relaxed strumming provides a crisp edge to the sonic territory of "Shapeless & Gone," "Picture," and "Backwords," where Porcelain Raft is most reminiscent of classic Galaxie 500.  And that's a very good thing.  If Remiddi continues to pull back the veil of reverb like this, he just might have something.  As it is, it's just another all-too-forgettable piece of shimmering dream-pop.  

Cloud Nothings. Attack on Memory LP. Two Takes

Cloud Nothings Attack on Memory
2012, Carpark, Stream on Soundcloud

by Justin Bautista

8.7 / 10

College dropout, hook fetishist, and lo-fi darling Dylan Baldi has seldom been a vessel for surprises. His songs have never had a knack for too many words, and remnants of teen hormones ooze out of his shrill pipes, emoting images of living rooms filled with skinny skaters sporting broken hearts, breaking things. The scenery doesn’t change in Attack on Memory. In fact, it’s a whole lot more bitter, and a whole lot better sounding. 


In “Forget You All the Time”, a standout from last year’s self-titled success, we see signs of crisis from a hope-laden teenager as he comes to terms with getting older. Bearing in mind the speaker sounds like he’s singing in a drugstore basement littered with confetti and NOS balloons, we have so much fun that we never really bother wondering if life turns out as peachy as he expects.


As we hear right away from the first track (“No Future No Past”), things aren’t going so well for our sparkly-eyed friend. He’s a little older, still not so wordy, and a whole lot more dirge-y. The uphill drums and spinning needlepoint screams set up a nice, not-so-subtle barebones outline for the rest of the record. That is, a resentful “fuck you” to yesterday, and a drab, sullen mourning of tomorrow. The second track isn’t bashful with its 9-minute rock-out that culminates with the most chilling line of the record: “I thought I would be more than this.” If you’re in your 20’s, starving, and nodding along in stop-and-go traffic, you might need to pick up the pace with the headbanging in order to fight back the tears.


Failing to betray Baldi’s usual pop-punk recipe, even the tastiest hooks have the most gut-wrenching one-liners. Whether you’re commiserating with the self-assuring loser anthem “Stay Useless”, or ruffling the feathers of regret singing “I miss you cause I like damage” to portraits of old lovers, it’s hard to be a futureless self-loathing romantic and not fall in love with Attack. After a couple of dates, you might even consider talking about something more serious and long-term. Besides, it’s never been hard to understand what Baldi’s saying about his feelings. He uses so few words. But this time, for once, you feel with him.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

by Martin White

7.8 / 10

When Cloud Nothings are at their best, Attack on Memory is razor-sharp, violent, and positively exhilarating.  The opening one-two of "No Future / No Past" and "Wasted Days" are immediate but decidedly deliberate.  The band exudes a confidence that allows them to sit back and let these tracks simmer, not unlike the way Slint achieved a similar aesthetic on Spiderland.  The opener builds ominously, stomping and plodding along repetitively, spiked with gut-shots delivered by Dylan Baldi's frayed vocal.  A very subtle quickening of the tempo over the first three quarters of the track is a smart touch that heightens the tension.  "Wasted Days" re-uses the pace shift over the instrumental section that makes up its second movement.  Fortunately, it just happens so slowly and naturally that you don't even realize they've done it again, and the head-rush of searing energy that accompanies the final minute of the track is one of the record's best moments.


Attack on Memory does stumble a bit in its distracted mid-section, which fails to capture the seething, captivating intensity of the record's opening.  "Fall In" and "Stay Useless" aren't necessarily bad songs but they do feel somewhat nondescript and derivative.  The former recalls mid-90's Green Day with its ragged pop-punk, revisiting a sound that was probably better left forgotten.  The latter, on the other hand, sounds straight off of Is This It as Baldi does his best Casablancas.  It's a nervy, catchy tune but it just falls flat a bit toward the end and certainly lacks originality.  


"No Sentiment" is the highlight of the back end, returning to the group's darker, more foreboding side with a song that brings the violence of Shellac and Big Black.  Noisy, feedback-ridden guitars battle for territory and it is impossible not to stop and admire the awesome tone of those towering, heavy riffs.  They hold serious weight, ringing out above the rest and also helping to hold down the low end.  


"I miss you 'cause I like damage / I need something I can't have" Baldi repeats on the coda to closer "Cut You."  It's a direct, unpretentious statement that reflects the conciseness of the LP; a fitting parting shot and one of the album's best lines.  I am left wanting more of the slow-burning tracks like "No Sentiment" and "No Future / No Past" and "Wasted Days," but the record does succeed because it rejects indulgence; it gets to the damn point and doesn't linger on it for too long.  

M83. Hurry Up, We're Dreaming LP

M83 Hurry Up, We're Dreaming

2011, Mute

by Michael Piske

There is something commendable about just plain going for it, balls-to-the-wall, with no regard for outside perception. It’s also one of the most frightening things to do for most people, but not for Anthony Gonzalez and the rest of M83.

On Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming, M83 reach for a grandiosity that is rarely seen, and is often scoffed at when attempted. Being a “double album” already puts it in a category that garners smirks and skepticism. Throw in a loose concept of revering childhood innocence; dreams versus reality. It is rife with crescendos, climaxes, strings, 80’s electronic drums, synths galore, breathy vocals, spoken word bridges, and some of the catchiest hooks in recent memory. Oh, and of course several instrumental interludes.

If an effort like this were undertaken with even the slightest reservation, it would fall flat from the get-go. But fortunately for the listener, Gonzalez and co. exhibit unbridled joy and brash exuberance on every note - making it all work.

The record begins with possibly the best opening two songs of 2011 in “Intro (f/Zola Jesus)” and “Midnight City”. It becomes clear that Gonzalez is going all-out very quickly, incorporating a whispered intro-within-“Intro” which sets the tone for the loose concept of dreaming which comes through at various points in the record. The chorus synth line from “Midnight City” is of the ilk that gets lodged in your head for days and you’re extremely happy about it.

As with almost all double albums, some would say that Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming would benefit from being scaled back to one disc, throwing out the dreamy symphonic interludes and focusing solely on pop masterpieces like “Claudia Lewis”, “New Map”, “OK Pal”, and “Steve McQueen”. Along with the tandem that opens the record these are my favorite tracks, but the beauty of M83’s ambition is in the ebb and flow of the album as a whole. Scaling it back would do these standouts an injustice.

As far as the concept of dreaming, it is scattered throughout the record, embedded both in Gonzalez’s lyrics as well as in almost every melody. As a child, you are constantly dreaming; the discovery of imagination, the furious exhilaration of learning, the realization that a refrigerator’s box can be transformed into a spaceship. As an adult, dreams become something entirely different. They are either “oh my god I had the weirdest dream last night” or unrealistic fantasies that you will never accomplish because real life is destined to get in the way.

But over a sprawling, epic, and truly joyful 72 minutes, M83 transports the listener back to a childhood where all of your dreams were scattered across the carpet, able to be picked up and played with, without a wisp of uncertainty.

Fleet Foxes. Helplessness Blues LP

Fleet Foxes Helplessness Blues
2011, Sub Pop

Helplessness Blues was one of the most anticipated and critically acclaimed records of 2011, and it certainly is impressive.  The songs are composed of gorgeously rendered tapestries of Americana, musically and lyrically brimming with richly colored imagery.  Yet what is most admirable about this record is its unexpected maturity and Robin Pecknold's uncommonly thoughtful writing, especially for a 25-year old.  


Helplessness Blues unfolds and carries a well-rendered narrative from beginning to end, though some of the individual tracks here are less distinct than those found on Fleet Foxes.  After listening to this record dozens of times, I would still be somewhat hard-pressed to remember quite how "Sim Sala Bim" or "Lorelai" or "Bedouin Dress" sound exactly.  I wouldn't necessarily say that a handful of things songs are filler, but a few aren't particularly memorable.  


Still, this is one of 2011's best-recorded LP's, and the sounds here are pretty impeccable.  The depth of the soundstage on "Montezuma" makes you feel as if the song is being performed right in front of you.  It sounds like Robin is singing while he sits in the chair next to you, while the rest of the group sings the back-up harmonies outside the window.  And then those warbling electric guitar bathes the song in a comforting, warm haze.  The wide range of instruments are recorded and mixed so perfectly that I'm left with the feeling that more instrumental segments and further dialing back of the harmonies would be appreciated.  


However, there are some commendable exercises in restraint here.  The band rarely goes for the easy emotional peak with melodramatic string arrangements, and the record as a whole is less reliant on the prettiness of the harmonized vocal set pieces.  Instead, Helplessness Blues favors hushed, subtler routes that focus the listener's attention simply because there are many moments of uncommon quiet.  "Someone You'd Admire" and "Blue Spotted Tail" rely chiefly on the combination of Pecknold and an acoustic guitar, while "The Plains / Bitter Dancer" never gets terribly loud, but still shows off some brilliant dynamics.  The song slowly approaches behind a mesmerizing two-bar melody; as soon as it finally comes fully into view it nearly disappears, leaving behind a single acoustic guitar.  This is a complex song but it doesn't feel like it; the easy-going tempo and sighing vocal and flute melodies give the song an accepting tranquility.  It truly is one of the masterpieces of the record, a simple song that seems to be about the inevitable arrival of death, a fact of nature "just as the sand made everything round" and "the tar seeps up from the ground."  


It's Pecknold's writing that takes this album places.  He has a new-found awareness of the world around around him and while there are still times when the flowery imagery is perhaps a bit much, there is a lot beneath the surface here.  Pecknold's songwriting has always looked at the world with a great amount of wonder, but here he takes time ponder its inner-workings and his place in it.  "So now I am older / Than my mother and father / When they had their daughter / Now what does that say about me?" he wonders in the opener, while in "Lorelai" he quite bluntly states "So, guess I got old / I was like trash on the sidewalk."  It's something many of us in our twenties finally realize: we will eventually get older and weaker and more useless.  Helplessness Blues pauses to ask why the world works the way it does and wonders what part we play in it.  But it also realizes that those questions don't often have clear answers. 

The Boats. Ballads of the Research Department LP

    cover art courtesy 12k

The Boats Ballads of the Research Department
2012, 12k

by Will F.

8.6 / 10

Experimental music offers little in its description to tell you what sort of sounds you are about to experience. Most people scurry away at the thought of ‘experimental’ as it conjures up an avant-garde bassoonist playing in 12/7 time over a tape recording of a blender. The Boats, however, offer something entirely refreshing and new to the concept of experimental music.


The duo, composed of Andrew Hargreaves and Craig Tattersall, focuses on pushing the boundaries of music through unexpected instrumentation, arrays of string sections and intense nocturnal timbres. In recording the album, the duo sought to explore and distort the traditional sense of a ballad, expressing (from 12k):


“We wanted to present the ballad in a new form employing sounds as well as words to tell our stories. These stories are not as lyrical as the ballad form of the past and are open to the listener’s interpretation. They are investigations into the uncertainty of our time, love, woe and hope.”


Such investigations of uncertainly are beautifully expressed on the opening track “The Ballad For Achievement,” opening with a warm drone cascading slowly into an Eno-esque piano-sprinkled melody. The excellence of the opening track is found within its slow layering of strings, wind-chimes, drums, and upright-bass. “The Ballad Of Failure” is drenched in emotive guitar reverb and dreamy vocals, creating a hybrid of ambient and shoegaze. Continuing their unhindered exploration of love, woe, and hope, “The Ballad For The Girl On The Moon” highlights the duo’s careful balance of unexpected turns. The cathartic string ballad transitions swiftly from a more classical violin solo into a modern showcase of departure, loss, and depression--all while brilliantly carrying the motifs of the preceding melody.


The highlight of the album is easily the closing ballad, “The Ballad of Indifference.” Showcasing The Boats' refreshing musical experimentation, the ballad combines Burial aesthetics with a cascading symphony of haunting, nocturnal, and excessively engrossing vocals performed by Japanese vocalist Cuushe. As if slowly moving down a deep river with only moonlight to guide your path, the last ballad gracefully bends and turns, trickles down your back and illuminates the dark shadows hiding in the corners. The resulting product is a gorgeous ballad, the likes of which I’ve never experienced.


Few albums explore the depth of human love, loss, and conscious reality as thoroughly as the Ballads of the Research Department--all while pushing the boundaries of genres and redefining expectations. Like a fine red wine, or wading through a surreal, never-ending dream, this album is more of an experience than an actual album. It is drenched in modesty, patience, and sincerity. This is an album I can listen to repeatedly without hesitation and be floored by its beauty on every listen.


Stream Ballads of the Research Department here, buy the CD from 12k's website.