Rock
Xerophonics
By Jeremy Saperstein There’s a definite warm solace to be found in the fluorescent hell of work. Once you’ve arrived for another eight-hour sentence, the rhythm of the workplace begins to nudge you like a tide, making action and reaction easy as you work through the day. Coffee at eight and ten, lunch at noon, candy bar at three. Without the routine, most of us would go insane. Xerophonics, a new ‘genre’ assembled entirely from the sounds of office appliances by one Dr. Stefan Helmreich is simultaneously the next great idea of industrial music and its denouement. Largely built on the repetitious patterns of noise that high-speed copiers emit (and named things like “Toshiba 2060” and “Xerox 5425 (Bookmark 35)”) Copying Machine Music is that great rarity in popular culture – a catchy prank – and exactly what you might expect to find on Negativland’s Seeland imprint. The unending rhythms of the copiers relax and capture me, taking me back to the countless copier rooms and desks I’ve occupied as a worker drone in America. From now on, I hope to hear more of the music that always plays around me.
May 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Various Artists
By Jeremy Saperstein Man, there’s no reason I should like this as much as I do. OK, sure, it’s a tribute album not to a band, but to the (relatively) obscure 70s film Two-Lane Blacktop, and that’s a movie I have a strange place in my heart for. That conceit alone makes the work of Filippo Salvadori in compiling this disc something special. But the music, unlike tribute albums, which have an unfortunate lack of width and breadth to them evokes the odd, existential feeling of the film wonderfully – from the opening banjo stomp of Sandy Bull’s “Little Maggie” to the closing drum-machine and fuzz-guitar freakout of Roy Montgomery’s “2LB”. The music surprisingly takes you on a little journey, with bits of the monotony and featurelessness of a long cross-country drive (Sonic Youth’s “Loop Cat”, which evokes distant memories of Kraftwerk’s masterwork “Autobahn”) and brief bright spots that arrive to break things up (Cat Power’s “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction”, itself an odd echo of the movie’s female lead Laurie Bird off-handedly singing the song). There are plenty of reasons to own this: current faves Wilco, Mark Eitzel, Calexico and Giant Sand all contribute songs, with the trophy going to Will Oldham, who offers a song (with Alan Licht) that combines all of James Taylor’s movie dialogue with an interpolation of Evita’s “Don’t Cry For Me Argentina” in an ear-friendly nugget.
May 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Various Artists
By Jeremy Saperstein It’s perverse to review this: there’s no identification on it (beyond label name), no titles or artists, and it’s rumored to have been removed from distribution for copyright reasons. It’s nigh impossible to find a copy (I got mine on the Internet at Turntable Lab – turntablelab.com/index1.html). Perverse, yes. So why review it? Aside from displaying how cool I am to own a copy, I want to share the news about this release for the handful of others who are sure to enjoy a digital copy of some truly funky old 45s. The CD is a nonstop death-ride of white-knuckle funk, through-and-through, played with the sort of garage-rock enthusiasm found in collectors-only ‘Pebbles’LPs. If you ever wondered if a funk revolution was being spawned by those initial groundbreaking releases by George Clinton, this is the proof that all around, the youth were getting restless and working to emulate Uncle George – and even top him. If all of that sounds tasty to you, I recommend this with no reservation. If you can’t find a copy, drop me a line and we can arrange a listening party with some malt liquor and cheese-whiz refreshments.
May 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
The Blow
By Jeremy Saperstein The Blow is Khaela Maricich. Formerly known as Get the Hell Out of the Way of the Volcano, Maricich has released at least a pair of tremendously idiosyncratic records featuring her strong breathy vocals, and appeared with other artists from the K stable, including Phil Elvrum (The Microphones) and Calvin Johnson (K czar). Sounding like a multi-tracked cross between a child’s nonsense rhymes and the tight harmonies of some sort of weird classical chamber music, Maricich’s songs never fail to make me think, either because of her clever turns of lyrical phrase (“Don’t you think we should kiss while Hüsker Dü is playing?/Do you like Grant Hart’s songs?/Do you like Bob Mould’s songs?/Have you ever sung along to ‘New Day Rising’?”) in “Jet Ski Accidents”, for example, or “Someone said that you’re a piece of paper/a piece of paper just pasted on the sky/I’ve a hunch that you’re a giant ball of rock/a million miles from me and all the people in the town”) in “The Moon Is There, I Am Here” or her clever and sophisticated-seeming (while maintaining a blisteringly charming naivety) compositional skills (the aforementioned “The Moon Is There…” or the contrapuntal harmonies in “The Touch-Me”). Throughout, the sparse instrumentation and smooth pop melodies make Bonus Album a far better bet than the studied twee of other new pop bands. Khaela Maricich is a hardcore original, like Beck or Captain Beefheart or any of a thousand others. I’m looking forward to seeing what comes next as I enjoy this release.
Apr 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
The Belles
By Jeremy Saperstein I’m pretty sure I’ve sworn off nice pop records a hundred times. Some sort of social consciousness bug invades my system and I swear I’ll never listen to simple lyrics of love again. But I always crack. Omerta is a fine record to crack to. The Belles are, surprisingly, only a duo – Christopher Tolle and Jake Cardwell – from Lawrence, Kansas (the stomping grounds of American pop legends The Embarassment), but the sound is anything but sparse. Filled with power-pop and indie-rock allusions, the record will get a lot of references to other bands whose name start with ‘B’ – Beatles, Big Star, Beach Boys – and that’s not a bad comparison. The opener, “So, I Sing” is a bit of chamber-pop with what sounds like a mellotron and some gorgeously lush backing vocals, while “You Can’t Have It All” rocks with a bit of acid lead guitar seemingly lifted directly from a Buffalo Springfield record.
Apr 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
St. Thomas
By Jeremy Saperstein I’ve gotta start this review with the same thing I’m sure every other review will start with: singer/songwriter Thomas Hansen sounds remarkably like Neil Young, in lyrics, delivery and musical construction. Okay, now that’s out of the way… If you’re already fond of the works of Mr. Young, the odds are good you’ll very much like St. Thomas as well. Formed in Norway, the band’s record is like nothing so much as country music or Americana, but from the land of the fjords, not Fords (sorry, I couldn’t resist). Without knowing him personally, I’d have to guess that English is not Hansen’s mother tongue, which leads to some inspired lyrics like: I’ve never seen a cowboy before Never told a story so sore Hey, baby, take a look at me I think I’m ready for the kick-down I can never give you in Have you ever seen my chin An umbrella is dancing on the corner Now everything is beyond her But it’s easy to poke fun at people who don’t use English well (late night talk show hosts prove that about our president every night). St. Thomas is exactly the sort of record to listen to in your car as you drive I-94 late at night between LaCrosse and Tomah, or in the echoes of your empty house after your lover has left, or if you can’t understand why other people think your Nick Drake records are depressing.
Apr 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Nuna
By Jeremy Saperstein This Milwaukee trio delivers an extremely energetic and catchy disk that seems to defy pigeonholing under any convenient label. Because they’re a trio and their music offers many of the dynamic shifts that Nirvana (and the Pixies before them) did in their ascendancy, I’m sure most critics will identify them as grunge, but there’s a quality to the songs that transcends easy categorization. While leader/singer/songwriter Nuna Minch has a tendency to use the ‘f’ word as a conversational stop gap (like some people say ‘uh’ ), he has a definite way with a pop tune as evidenced in the lilting instrumentation and sing-along melodies in “Nose Candy”. While Headcase is a fine disk on its own, I’m looking forward to watching Nuna grow and expand (and to seeing them live – they play in the area fairly frequently, according to their website).
Apr 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Greg Koch
By Brian Barney When Greg Koch was in the third grade, he cut out a cardboard guitar, and while using a sewing machine foot controller as a makeshift wah, proceeded to emulate Jimi Hendrix. Yeah, sure, we all did that, but Koch kept the delirium alive and went on to become one of the best and most original guitarists to ever pick up an axe. His latest release is a collection of songs, not quite songs, and spoken word that mixes music, mayhem and Kocks’ wet/dry sense of humor into a gelatinous substance called Radio Free Gristle. From its’ opening track, “The Mansqwatch Chronicles”, where a Steve Vai-like tone rides over the top of a friendly yet frightening arrangement of chord meets discord, to the last, “Your Blues” (do the math); the disc reads like a hard-boiled crime caper that you can’t put down. Standout cuts like “Chopin’s Redneck Hideaway” and “The Joy of Ax”, show Koch’s amazing approach and a style that simply can’t be categorized; where scales derail, and madness becomes melodic. Interspersed throughout the record are snippets of spoken word that range from the hilarious to the unexplainable (mostly hilarious). Koch is a Frank Zappa type for today with his musical prowess and humorous musings, and, while Radio Free Gristle will probably never reach the mainstream, fans are in for a treat with Greg Koch’s most complete work to date.
Apr 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Collections of Colonies of Bees
By Brian Barney The latest from Collections of Colonies of Bees is comprised of musical murmurings that crescendo to eclectic swellings with acoustic guitars and analog keys. Each song seems to fade into the next with a fluid motion that mimics a boat drifting down a stream, occasionally bumping flotsam represented by sharply picked harmonics and blips of carefully manipulated notes from the keyboard. Chris Rosenau handles acoustic and lap steel guitars along with keyboards while Jon Mueller adds percussion and miscellaneous noises. This journey toward serenity in track after track of image shaping music sounds like Ravi Shankar spending an afternoon with Pink Floyd, where the occasional pop of a snare drum or rattle of a sundry percussive device shakes the listener out of a pleasant state of rapture. While probably best-suited for ambience, the occasional thud, or electronic swell of pitch causes a deviation from the flow, leaving the listener peering around the corner in anticipation of what might happen next. "fa.ce (a" will be a welcome addition to any new age collection.
Apr 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
By Haven Langhout What can I say? It’s a Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds album, but more mellow than ever this time around. I’m a big fan of Cave’s earlier work so I didn’t enjoy this album too much on first listen. But the more I listen to it the more I like it. There are still the somber violins and tinkling pianos, but now the love ballads have happy endings to them. There is a theme of hope and redemption throughout. Could it be that the Godfather of Goth has finally gone (*gasp*) happy on us? Well, sort of…but not quite. My favorite track off the album is “It’s a Wonderful Life”, a moody ballad where Cave admonishes his dour listeners to cheer up by singing lyrics like: “We can build our dungeons in the air and sit and cry the blues/We can stomp across the world with nails in our shoes/We can join the troubled chorus who criticize and accuse/ It don’t matter, we’ve got nothing much to lose but this wonderful life.” Kinda hopeful, huh? Another song with a positive feeling is “Bring It On”, where the tempo picks up a bit and Cave sings “Every little tear, bring it on and I’ll make them disappear.” Not too much moping on this album. On previous albums, bittersweet ballads such as “Where the Wild Roses Grow” or “The Ballad of Henry Lee” ended up in one of the lovers meeting such gruesome ends as being knifed or hit in the skull by a rock. (Yeah, it’s funny in a dark way- admit it). But that isn’t the case with the love ballads on the new album. Nick Cave is obviously very in love with his wife- as evidenced by “Rock of Gibraltar.” He pledges his eternal unwavering devotion and love to his wife with lyrics like “The best thing I’ve done is make you the one to walk with me to the altar” and compares their love to the rock of Gibraltar. It sounds like Nick Cave has finally made peace with all his demons on this album. On Nocturama, growing up sounds good.
Apr 1st, 2003 by Vital Archives
