Rock
Trans Am
Trans Am’s eighth studio album finds them in an organic state of mind – no vocoders, more guitar work and averting their own comfort level by recording with borrowed equipment. On Sex Change, the classic Trans Am sound manages to remain brilliantly confusing and captivating, borrowing from prog, krautrock, electro-synth, pop, space-rock, funk and techno. With minimalist and often over-tweaked vocals, Trans Am’s sound has not necessarily evolved since the band’s formation in 1993. It’s merely perfected the art of genre-bending. While their last release (2004’s Liberation) took a new direction with its politically infused post-9/11 focus, Sex Change retains nothing of this. The band’s Washington D.C. habitat is not as strong an influence this time, and Trans Am chameleonizes its sound further with their chosen recording location of Auckland, New Zealand. The first few tracks really do project a wide-open, spacey sound. After an almost dance-y start (a la early Depeche Mode), the album picks up the pace with the very ‘80s “Conspiracy of the Gods” then interchanges between their pretty New Order influences (“4,738 Regrets” ) and harder techno influences, compliments of Orbital and the Chemical Brothers (“Tesco vs. Sainsbury’s” ). In showcasing a hardcore guitar lead in “Shining Path,” Trans Am demonstrates their further capacity to be genre-encompassing. Although all over the board, Sex Change manages to be attention-grabbing and upbeat – characteristics that are not always a given with this band.
Mar 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
Ted Leo and the Pharmacists
Ted Leo might occasionally feel nostalgic – one of his best-known songs, “Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?,” yearns for old-fashioned ska – but he’s not. Better than any other current musician, he understands that punk rock is unfinished business: a promise that needs to be kept. He also understands that punk rock is less a style or an ideology than a commitment, and that understanding suffuses Living With the Living. Leo has never shied away from songwriting variety, but this album might be his most wide-ranging yet, even as it showcases a further tautening of the threads connecting him to Pharmacists bassist Dave Lerner and drummer Chris Wilson. Some of the paths Leo and the Pharmacists take aren’t particularly unexpected. “Bomb.Repeat.Bomb” is a typically blistering, coolly angry attack on attackers, “A Bottle of Buckie” explores friendship via an Irish-American take on the Pogues and “Army Bound” cuts Leo’s razor-barbed guitar riffs across a martial rock beat. But “The Unwanted Things” is a surprisingly fluid, sweet angle on the punk-reggae combination explored so well by Elvis Costello and The Clash, while “La Costa Brava” mixes crunchy pop-rock with a romantic urge to travel to sunnier climes. If Leo weren’t in such good, tuneful voice, these stylistic transformations would be even more surprising than they are. Producer Brendan Canty of Fugazi helps to keep the music lean. Ted Leo’s intelligence and intensity come through quite clearly, each undimmed by the other. Living With the Living keeps the promise. VS
Mar 1st, 2007 by Jon Gilbertson
The Higher
That maddest of alchemists, the music industry, has managed to seamlessly spin the two most popular genres from the two most dominant high school cliques (punks and preps) into SoundScan gold: the Mallpunk Boy Band, personified by fresh-faced and darling (but edgy and badass) kids like Good Charlotte and Fall Out Boy. And now, Epitaph Records has jumped into the game with The Higher, a competent quintet of lads who expertly paint by numbers with their debut, On Fire. This has the makings of a top seller, so I suppose it’s hard to blame Epitaph, formerly home to politically-charged, socially relevant punk rock like Bad Religion, for releasing something this languid and dispassionate. The performances are solid, the production slick, the hooks not out of place on a Justin Timberlake album. The Higher are destined for commercial success, sure to dominate the Warped Tour mid-card for years (and getting close—so close!—to finally headlining over Motion City Soundtrack). And good for them. Having Fall Out Boy’s Patrick Stump remix one of their tracks (“Pace Yourself” ) won’t hurt, either. It just sounds like a band looking to cash in. With On Fire, one must, at the very least, hope that the kids discovering punk rock through bands like this will take note of the label releasing them, stumble upon Bad Religion and look back at this release with the critical eye of a suddenly more seasoned listener. Perhaps then they will file The Higher away as a band that served their purpose: a junior-high gateway drug to music with substance. Then, in their own special way, The Higher will have mattered. VS
Mar 1st, 2007 by DJ Hostettler
Van Morrison
By Blaine Schultz Ducks don’t come much odder than Van Morrison. He refers to his biggest hit “Brown Eyed Girl” as “the money shot” when he deigns to play the tune live. Often times it is not on the set list and it is strange that a guy who doesn’t exactly banter with the audience would offer a pornographic backslap to introduce the tune. As the teenage leader of Belfast’s Them, Van wrote the garage-punk anthem “Gloria” and that tune typically gets short shrift as well at his performances. Yet give Morrison utmost credit for being true to his muse over the course of a four decade career. He’s gone from garage R&B to pop hits to the stream of consciousness masterpiece Astral Weeks to albums that veer dangerously close to New Age, but he’s always done it on his own terms. Only Bob Dylan and Neil Young have lead such long and winding careers. For his 1974 appearance at the Montreux jazz festival Morrison’s most recent studio album had been Hard Nose the Highway – a likeable record but not exactly a career marker. For this date he’d left behind his sprawling Caledonia Soul Orchestra and, according to legend, assembled a piano/bass/drums group at Montreux. Very few artists, even in the open minded post-hippie 1974, would be willing to take such a chance with a pickup band of stellar players. Which goes a ways to explain why so few artists fall into a category with Morrison. And true to form, the set list reflects no expected choices and is littered with tunes that would be played rarely over the years. “Twilight Zone” eventually surfaced on the Philosopher’s Stone compilation as a different arrangement featuring an odd falsetto vocal. At Montreux Van acquits himself on acoustic guitar picking out spare bluesy riffs while Jerome Rimson’s upright bass and Pete Wingfield’s piano also take melodic turns. He also takes turns on harmonica (impressive) and saxophone (less so). If the first show is a unique document the second avails its riches with repeated viewings. In 1980 Morrison would again return to the expanded band format, highlighted here by ex-James Brown sax player Pee Wee Ellis’ extended solos. It is evident that Morrison trusts his musicians and gives them reign to tap into the moment while Morrison loses himself as well. “Summertime in England” builds to a Morrison and Ellis call and response near-Evangelical situation verging on hypnosis and as the tune fades the band launches into “Moondance” and Morrison looks like an alarm clock just went off in his head and he’s wondering what he’s doing onstage. This particular segment is a gem; that sense of a Holy Grail moment that players and listeners will tell you justifies an obsession – to paraphrase Van himself – sometimes “it ain’t why, it just is.” The next pair of tunes “Haunts of Ancient Peace” and “Wild Night” offers a similar juxtaposition. The set list is a near-perfect 15 song travelogue moving from trance inducing […]
Mar 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Allen Toussaint @ The Pabst Theater
By Blaine Schultz After an quick instrumental tune to warm up, Allen Toussaint ran through a medley of some of the hits he wrote and produced for other artists – just in case you didn’t know who he is. In 2006 Toussaint collaborated with Elvis Costello on a post-Katrina album and tour that refreshed the public’s memory that since the 1950s Toussaint has written and produced a swath of music that remains quintessentially New Orleans. “A Certain Girl,” “Mother In Law,” “Fortune Teller,” “Working in a Coalmine,” “Lipstick Traces,” “Brickyard Blues,” “What Do You Want the Girl to Do?,” “Yes We Can” and “Southern Nights.” While fire engines swarmed City Hall Saturday night at the Pabst Theater, Tousaint and his four-piece group moved seamlessly from regional hits to blink-and you-missed-it classical interludes to anecdotes introducing many of the tunes. In his double-breasted suit and Birkenstock shoes, Toussaint comes off as the personification of erudite and just plain cool. As a vocalist he’s laidback and funky. It’s easy to see him as living through vocalists like Lee Dorsey and Ernie K-Doe while settled into the studio life of a writer/producer/arranger. But this night’s rare performance proved he’s equally adept on stage. The audience could have used a dance floor. As a musician, Toussant’s piano playing is heir to the great Professor Longhair, and it is that rolling lefthand rhumba that anchors many of the tunes. But he also exhibits his genius in re-imagining Longhair’s rollicking “Tipitina” in a minor key as “Ascension Day” on the Costello collaboration, The River in Reverse. At the Pabst Toussaint alternated between the two. While he’s been covered by everyone from The Yardbirds to Devo to Warren Zevon (not to mention arranging horns for the Band), arguably Glen Campbell’s cover of “Southern Nights” is where most listener’s have come into contact with Toussaint’s music. He ended his set with long spoken introduction to the song, reminiscing of family trips out to the Louisiana countryside as a child to visit relatives, all the while playing variations on the tune’s melody. The band members listened with their heads bowed as if transported as well. It was one of the few moments all night the audience was still. Opener Pieta Brown played a short set of her folk and blues tunes accompanied by guitar guru Bo Ramsey. As the daughter of esteemed songwriter Greg Brown, Pieta is challenged to move away from the old man’s shadow – but she is well on her way. Her singing coupled with Ramsey’s filigrees created some hypnotic moments that took the listener into movies her lyrics created. Songs about escaping small-town life and characters with a “train in his head just looking for a track” suggest her career is moving in the right direction. VS
Feb 19th, 2007 by Vital Archives
The Early Years
Already in play to sell Nike shoes, the single “All Ones & Zeros” gets The Early Years’ debut out of the blocks at lightning speed; but it’s false advertising for the record as a whole. Although the intro song is a propelling dash, what follows lacks similar kinetic force. Intentionally. This three-piece, comprised of a drummer and pedal-happy guitar duo, adamantly refuse to chase after the skinny-tie, post-punk revivalist trend. Instead of worshipping Gang of Four, the self-proclaimed “experimental” band cite Neu!, Television and Mogwai as influences. If experimental means ambience, feedback and droning, and the preceding bands were reputably boring and uninventive, then these guys are spot on. The Early Years sound more confident when they aren’t trying so hard. The majority of songs, including the utterly beige “Brown Hearts,” are like a game of hot/cold (getting warmer…even warmer… ). The musicians find direction as the tracks count down, leaving questions as to how much improvisation they employed while recording. Likewise, the last two and a half minutes of “High Times And Low Lives” show potential and should have been the project’s starting line. Here, parts move – the darling avant-garde electronics live rightfully among the twangy guitar and incisive percussion. Regrettably, the disc’s closers, though pretty, deflate any remaining hope of resurrecting the buzz. The Early Years live up to their name; they play a diluted imitation of art rock’s early years, contributing little more than better technology. They’re on the heels of something good, but until their sophomore release, why buy a knock-off when you can just as easily listen to the real thing? VS
Feb 1st, 2007 by Amber Herzog
The Shins
The advent of the Shins’ latest sees them with not an entirely clean bill of health. They’ve paled from the short-term convalescence that the indie film and television world has bled them into. Yet they’ve somehow grown a muscular sonic extroversion from this bloodletting, while still managing to leave their lyrical core of persistent pathos intact. James Mercer’s sweet tenor will never quite echo the nerviness of The Fall’s Mark E. Smith, but it’s more of a “hell yeah” than an “oh, hell.” “Sleeping Lessons” is a fantastic kickoff, much in the way “Kissing the Lipless” was for Chutes too Narrow. Creeping in quietly, it assaults the unsuspecting listener’s ears with the volume cranked up to catch the Lewis Carroll references, blasting a train-chugging bass and a quick-click drumbeat with upswept, Beach Boy vocals. “Phantom Limb” catches the band at their wistful best, creating an atmosphere of ‘60s jangle-pop with an ‘80s bass line often associated with teen films, and a plotline to match. To hear Mercer sing the oh-wah-oh chorus is swoonable. The album is sonically variant starting with “Phantom Limb;” that track, “Sea Legs” and “Turn On Me” are all illuminating. The best surprise is “Sea Legs.” Containing a prominent Beck-ish bass line, flute and lounge piano chords, it features a smokier-voiced Mercer. “Red Rabbits” is another variation, but simple innovation and keyboardist Marty Crandall’s keyboard noodling is not enough to create a decent song. Wincing amps the listener up first with its familiarity, then further with a swing into the new, but fails to push through at the end. It’s promising, but The Shins are apparently still in that awkward stage; they still have plenty of room to grow. VS
Feb 1st, 2007 by Erin Wolf
The Apples in Stereo
As any negative nabob can tell you (and in fact is telling you right now), it’s extremely difficult to favor the pop – or pop!, onomatopoeically speaking – in pop-rock without coming across as a chirpy Pollyanna. Even the Apples in Stereo, for all their honest effervescence, have periodically seemed like the token frown-upside-down representatives inside the Elephant 6 collective. Apples leader Robert Schneider has often overcome such perceptions with pure conviction. And New Magnetic Wonder, the band’s first full-length since 2002’s The Velocity of Sound, layers a considerable amount of ambition atop Schneider’s foundation of belief. Actually, New Magnetic Wonder layers a lot of layers: the opening two tracks, “Can You Feel It?” and “Skyway,” quite un-ironically recall the massive, colorful edifices once erected by ELO and Queen. (There are even a few guitar figures reminiscent of Brian May’s overheated parts on the Flash Gordon soundtrack.) Various effects and exotic and/or vintage instruments reinforce the hugeness. Yet Schneider’s ever-youthful voice and childlike romanticism temper the grandeur, and a song like “Sun Is Out” is as charmingly ramshackle as one of The Beatles’ looser offerings. A generous handful of light interludes, including Mellotron samples and the accurately titled “Vocoder Ba Ba” also help to erase the threat of grandiloquence. The only sad thing about this album is that it marks longtime member Hilarie Sidney’s departure to devote full attention to her band, The High Water Marks, although her positive glow shines with “Sunndal Song” and “Sunday Sounds.” Otherwise, New Magnetic Wonder brims with joy. While it’s playing, the world actually looks brighter. VS
Feb 1st, 2007 by Jon Gilbertson
The Bird and the Bee
One can’t help but feel like the self-titled debut from L.A. duo The Bird and the Bee answers the question that’s burned in the minds of music aficionados for years: What would it sound like if Jewel and Stereolab grew up on Martin Denny and Herb Alpert records? The opening track (and first single), “Again and Again,” immediately calls all three touch points to mind, as it’s the perfect declaration of what the duo’s all about: providing the soundtrack to cocktail parties on Mars. The entire album speaks to a fascination for merging past with future. The exotic flavor of “Again and Again” is augmented by a thick, fuzzy synth, adding some space-age low end. “I’m a Broken Heart” ups the stakes with some ‘50s R&B/Doo-Wap stylings – if the girls were wearing vinyl and tinfoil and performing on one of those moon bases artistically rendered in atomic-age In the Year 2000 picture books. And the absence of nearly any real drums in favor of machines and sequencers brings the “yesterday’s music tomorrow” vibe home. The duo doesn’t skimp on the hooks, either – “Broken Heart” is instantly hummable, as is the fantastic chorus to “I Hate Camera” and, really, most any of the tracks on the CD. All the singing is done by the female member of the duo, Inara George (a name that is too awesome to be real), and her ability to harmonize with herself is to be envied; her background vocals move the melodies in some very interesting, attention-demanding directions. The Bird and The Bee make party music for people who like to party without raising their voices while sipping their martinis. Throw it into the disc changer at your next formal. VS
Feb 1st, 2007 by DJ Hostettler
Cortney Tidwell
By Nikki Butgereit Cortney Tidwell’s Don’t Let Stars Keep Us Tangled Up is an imaginative blend of subtle vocals and electronic sounds that is altogether unexpected from an artist touted for her relationship to the Nashville music scene. Echo effects enhance the delicate, breathy quality of Tidwell’s voice. On the album’s title track, she sounds like vintage Björk, with her combination of quiet enunciation and powerful yodels. Each song is layered with multiple instruments and vocal tracks, which lends an experimental feel to the record. Most songs meander along without verse or chorus, creating an emotional experience rather than something to which you can sing along. “Illegal” is a creative cacophony, with buzzing, whirring and crowd noise alongside keyboard beats and chords. Upbeat synthesizers and stronger vocals on “Missing Link” add another facet to the otherwise down-tempo album. This song is much more frenetic than the others and shows off Tidwell’s underlying versatility. Cortney Tidwell’s music is not pushy or jarring – each track sort of dissolves into the next. Headphones really highlight the intricate craftsmanship – in the car or on a home stereo, the music tends to create a mellow hum, and you can almost forget it’s on, save for the relaxing mood it elicits and the occasional abrupt upswing in volume and tempo. Tidwell has created an enjoyably mellow listening experience built on layers of experimental sound. Don’t Let Stars Keep Us Tangled Up manages to be low-key and exciting all at once. VS
Feb 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
February 2007
By Erin Wolf February 6 The Apples in Stereo New Magnetic Wonder Simian/Redeye The Backyard Fire Vagabonds and Hooligans OIE/Redeye Bloc Party A Weekend in the City Dim Mak/Vice/Atlantic Fall Out Boy Infinity on High Island/Fueled By Ramen Patty Griffin Children Running Through ATO/RCA Rickie Lee Jones The Sermon on Exposition Boulevard New West Belinda Carlisle Voila Rykodisc The Dexateens Hardwire Healing Skybucket The End Elementary Relapse Sondre Lerche Phantom Punch Astralwerks Lonely, Dear Lonely, Noir Sub Pop Eleni Mandell Miracle of Five Zedtone Lee Ann Womack Finding My Way Back Home Mercury Nashville Mnemic Passenger Nuclear Blast Yoko Ono Yes, I’m a Witch Astralwerks Jesse Sykes & the Sweet Hereafter Like, Love, Lust & The Open Halls of the Soul Barsuk The Used Berth Reprise February 13 Anais Mitchell The Brightness Michael Chorney Young Dubliners With All Due Respect: The Irish Sessions 429/Savoy Label Group Seafood Paper Crown King Cooking Vinyl The Infamous Stringdusters Fork in the Road Sugar Hill Lucinda Williams West Lost Highway February 20 The Ataris Welcome the Night Isola Recordings/Sanctuary Jill Cunniff City Beach Streetwise Lullabies/The Militia Group Dolly Varden The Panic Bell Undertow Explosions in the Sky All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone Temporary Residence Ltd. The Frames The Cost Anti-/Epitaph Fu Manchu We Must Obey Century Media Kittie Funeral for Yesterday Kiss of Infamy The Magic Numbers Those the Brokes Heavenly/Capitol Reel Big Fish and Zolof the Rock & Roll Destroyer Duet All Night Long ReIgnition The Nein Luxury Sonic Unyon Trans Am Sex Change Thrill Jockey Trouble Simple Mind Condition Escapi February 27 Dean & Britta Back Numbers Zoe/Rounder Dr. Dog We All Belong Park the Van Kaiser Chiefs Yours Truly, Angry Mob U.K.-Universal Jesse Malin Glitter in the Gutter Adeline/Warner
Feb 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
Rockin’ Bones – 1950s Punk and Rockabilly
By Blaine Schultz Everyone knows Elvis Presley, Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash and Carl Perkins, but when you think of rockabilly’s iconic image the person who comes to mind is Ersel Hickey. You might not know the name but trust me, odds are you’ve seen the photograph of this proto-rockabilly cat – all greasy pompadour, suggestive stance and hollow body guitar. It has been said that rock & roll died when Elvis was inducted into the Army. Truth be told, around the same time Little Richard saw the Light, Chuck Berry was doing time and Buddy Holly died in a plane wreck. So, yeah rock & roll had pretty much shot its wad by the end of the ‘50s. But prior to that there were untold countless backwoods wannabees, regular guys who had a little talent and inspired maniacs who were aimed like Halley’s Comet for their one shot at the big time. Rockabilly’s premise couldn’t be simpler: here’s three chords stolen from country music or the blues and some primed teenage angst. Toss in the sharpies at small record companies looking to make a buck, a handful off green pills and more attitude than Hollywood could ever manufacture and what you have is mid-20th century American History in four acts. Produced by former Milwaukeean Cheryl Pawelski and James Austin, this four disc set plays out like a soundtrack to a time when things were changing fast. For the first time in history teenagers had expendable income and were beginning to challenge the older generation in terms of popular culture. Every parent’s nightmare was that their son would end up a juvenile delinquent or their daughter would be attracted to one. (And while the title of this collection uses the term “punk,” no self-respecting JD would have been called that without a fight breaking out.) Now in a perfect world we would all have access to The Cramps’ record collection, but this will save you the time you’d spend digging up all these 45s on your knees in dusty backrooms of thrift stores (presuming you own a record player), not to mention the collector scum prices you’d fork over if you went the auction route. Consider each of these gems a musical resume whereby the artist gets to grab your attention. And usually in little over two minutes it’s the musical equivalent of 0 to 60 and a chugged Red Bull. Lightning in a bottle, even. In the world of rockabilly obscure is often better. While the Big Four are all represented – plus a pre-operatic Roy Orbison – it is not with their most recognized tunes. In Fact, Elvis’ “One Night of Sin” oozes blues. Representing what can be considered the next echelon of artists – never quite becoming household names – these folks managed to have careers in the music biz, and were often held as icons in Europe and Japan. You get a dose of Gene Vincent, Eddie Cochran, Link Wray, Johnny Burnette/Rock & Roll Trio and […]
Feb 1st, 2007 by Vital Archives
