mVault_1: March 2015

Saturday, March 28, 2015

Artist: Teen Mom

Review by Jessi Roti – @JessiTaylorRO

Artist: Teen Mom

Album: Gilly

Links: https://www.facebook.com/teenmomdc

http://teenmomdc.bandcamp.com/

Washington, D.C.’s Teen Mom, while adopting the feminized band name, aren’t strangers to their emotions. The band’s four-track EP, Gilly, explores an understated, sugary sweetness that only a trio of “sensitive guys” could produce.

Opening track, “Kitchen” introduces the band’s lo-fi fuzz, which echoes the likes of My Bloody Valentine or Real Estate. Toward the end of the six and a half minutes, a bossa nova vibe breaks up the monotony of the languid, neo-shoegaze sound. And while there are moments of droning reverb that leave you wanting a more explosive, shredding guitar or the bang of a bass drum, the tracks flow together seamlessly enough to act as their own breaks.

“Prom Song” and “Say Anything” epitomize the romanticism that the band employs along with the lushness of the instrumentation, giving the release, as a whole, a much more expansive feel rather than a static wall-of-sound that most lo-fi, indie pop falls prey to.

Gilly’s acoustically-driven “Stay Inside” sounds like the end of summer, or of a summer romance. It shrugs off any need of something “heavier,” or less pop, as a truly inspired guitar riff tears up the end of the track. It’s just nice, like feeling the warmth of the sun on your face. Not to mention, it could easily fit on now-defunct band, Girls’ final album.

But here’s the thing, is an EP of four, semi-static, love songs featuring young, Conor Oberst-like whispery vocals enough? Is the vulnerability compelling enough to expand across an LP in the future? Maybe. For a band from D.C., there is an effortless, west coast cool to Teen Mom’s delivery; a beach-bum innocence, if you will. The band knows its identity and knows what it’s doing, but new ground is going to need to be treaded sooner-or-later.

Teen Mom is going to have to turn it up to 11.

Friday, March 27, 2015

Artist: Hail Farm

Album: Perfect Human

Links: https://www.facebook.com/hailfarm

Available for free/pay-what-you-want download at http://hailfarm.bandcamp.com/releases

Metallica is not the complete band. I thought they were. Right after hearing their S&M album – the one with the San Francisco Symphony (conducted by Michael Kamen, “yeah!”) – I thought they had it locked. The lead track was what I assumed was a Metallica deep cut I never bothered to listen to. “The Ecstasy of Gold” was, to my ear, another example of Metallica trading the “live fast, die young” ethos of old school metal for the delayed but deeply gratifying dynamism mined for commercial gold with 1991's Black Album. It would be interesting at best, tedious at worst, had they decided to instead drag an orchestra full of instruments more subtly evocative than crushingly brutal as Metallica just rode the lightening for two hours.

But “The Ecstasy of Gold” intro was not theirs. It was written three decades earlier by Ennio Morricone. You know, the Academy Award-winning Spaghetti Western guy whose scores somehow made gun-draws more dramatic? (Without him, who knows ... we might have realized idiots were dying for lack of wrist speed.) Mars Volta also used Morricone as entrance music, and I'm guessing WWE wrestlers are next.

But Morricone is influential for a reason – the same reason Kirk Hammett shouldn't be allowed to sloppily wah-wah all over him. Simply put, the guy can write a theme. And he exploits it with minimal (and unconventional-sounding) instruments to maximum effect. And so it is with Philadelphia's Hail Farm.

Fire up the lead track of Hail Farm's Perfect Human, and you'll hear why I just wasted all that hot air on Morricone via Metallica. With “Anniversary,” Michael O'Neill nails the spirit of Morricone. Over rolling drums (Asher Berlin), guitar set on reverb, O'Neill summons that same movie magic with layers of guitar textures, patterns and melodies.

The lyrics too are at their best when imagist and fantastical. On “Leaves,” you see, hear, and experience the peaceful serenity of: “my sisters they live in the stars / They come around once a year in the dark / Did you see me in the trees? / I was counting up all the leaves.” It's the same idyllic scene captured by Hum's “Stars.” But instead of Hum's “Creep”-like wall o' guitar (Radiohead not TLC), Hail Farm does more with less. Whether it's the doubled cello that I mistook for a classy-ass harmonica (at 1:20 of “Anniversary”), an upper-register bass fill (Bradford Dessy at 3:01 of “Anniversary”), or dramatic horns (1:52 of “All These Words” or 1:00 of “Not the Moon”), Hail Farm creates physical settings much like Porno for Pyros' “Porpoise Head” and Finley Quaye's “Supreme I Preme” did for me – soundscapes, all.

So too with “Skyscrapers,” which pointed towards a more appropriate micro-genre than Spaghetti Western. Because the title itself conjures “Skyscraper” by Julian Plenti aka Interpol's Paul Banks. Like Michael O'Neill for Hail Farm, Banks' own “Skyscraper” builds impressive structures with intricate guitar patterns as beams and melodic riffs as decorative columns.

And it is this skill-set O'Neill can use to dip into and out of musical styles at will. 'Cause he might need it. The stud cellist (Ben Austin) and trumpeter (Ian Cochran) of Hail Farm might soon be busy with a Morricone score for whatever Tarantino's got planned next.

*** The author of this review, Allen Murray, plays the tamborita for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Monday, March 23, 2015

Artist: Black Market Rebellion

Review by Jessi Roti – @JessiTaylorRO

Artist: Black Market Rebellion

Album: Act Two: The Blasphemy Tapes

Links: https://www.facebook.com/BlackMarketRebellion

http://www.reverbnation.com/blackmarketrebellion

Rock and roll, like many genres, is multi-faceted. When all of those facets work together, there’s truly nothing better. Your heart pounds and your pulse races to the tempo set by the drums, while your head bangs along to dueling guitars and a subtle bass groove.

These familiar feelings flood back while listening to Black Market Rebellion’s 2014 release, Act Two: The Blasphemy Tapes. As the title suggests, rock and roll thematics follow suit across 10 tracks. The opening track, “The Unexamined Life” is a solid introduction. Like the revving of an engine, the band definitely hones in on a power-chord heavy, adrenaline rush.

Every piece of Black Market Rebellion fits. Bryan Kelly’s lead vocals are what you’d want, or expect, from a rock singer. Heavy, but not all that intimidating, while hushed with a hint of sensuality when the track calls for it. “2 More 4 Mischief” exemplifies the line that’s been drawn in the sands of rock music, the line between being authentic enough for the harshest critic, while engaging in just enough sexuality to be interested in by the mainstream.

“Louisiana Roots” really showcases the talent this group of four possesses. The crescendo of the guitar flows seamlessly, while drummer A.J. Jackson knows when to drum full-force and when to pull back and utilize the hi-hat. At its simplest, Black Market Rebellion produces enjoyable rock and roll with classic, metal influence.

But while it’s enjoyable, it is almost too familiar. References to Foo Fighters and Finnish-“love metal” act H.I.M. are pretty blatant. Slightly more pop-tinged tracks like “Marie” are reminiscent of something Poison would have released at the height of ‘80s hair-metal. This, again, is enjoyable, but nothing new. Black Market Rebellion has monster potential, but at the end of the record, they’re still a moderately young band looking to establish their own identity amongst a scene that’s as saturated as ever.

I say, leave the pop tracks behind and go for the jugular. With a band that has four, ridiculously strong talents, don’t water-down your sound to the likes of Bret Michaels. Go for Ozzy.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

Artist: WaxWorks

Links: https://www.facebook.com/waxworkschicago

http://waxworksmusic.bandcamp.com/

As much as I love Pearl Jam, Eddie Vedder's evolving roles have presented issues. But at least Mike McCready blessed Vedder's guitar-playing: "Even though there are three guitars, I think there's maybe more room now. Stone will pull back and play a two-note line and Ed will do a power chord thing, and I fit into all that."

There's something about Chicago's WaxWorks that got me thinking about that. Because when a band brings to bear a considerable complement of professional musicianship, they still need space to work with.

Whether it be the whipsaw drumming starting at 1:49 of WaxWorks “Modern Love” (which is closer to “Golden Years” than Bowie's titular doppelganger); a bass that single-handedly carries a song (i.e. intro to “I Got a Woman”); a guitar that runs from silly sophistication (at 2:00) to seriously shredtastic (at 5:15) on “All Tore Up”; and a staggering vocal that ranges from the visceral soul showcased on “All Tore Up” to Lenny Kravitz-like power on “I Got A Woman” (at 2:39) – it's the space, the lull, the quiet before the storm, that sets up effective punches like the crunchy distortion at :33 of “Cold Bones” or its vocal-fill-turn-hook at 2:23.

And I have no idea if it's friendship or mutual respect that has the band acting like, well, a band; but one Mad Love song sums it up for me. “I Got a Sorrow” starts with a narrator paced by a solitary guitar. The moment he hints at quiet desperation, his friends are by his side (at:29) – with airy drums over pulsing bass guitar. Together they fall into their old rhythms, helping their friend “burn” away his pain, back at the old stomping grounds (lake). (It's almost like they knew that relationship wouldn't last.)

The two singles WaxWorks released in 2014 were “recorded on cold days with minimal production.” WaxWorks is a band that can do this, with product that can withstand repeated listens. How much you wanna bet they can do it live?

*** The author of this review, Rodney Gibson, plays the tsuzumi for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Top Shelf Lickers

Links: https://www.facebook.com/topshelflickers

http://thetopshelflickers.bandcamp.com/

First thing's first. Top Shelf Lickers' latest EP lacks the harmonica that helped distinguish their previous LP. Circumstances are weird when we're talking about harmonica in a punk review, but that's TSL – not your average punk band. All it takes is a few spins of Neil Turk wailing on that thing during Head First's “Mr. McShakes” and “Off My Head” to know how much instruments like that add to TSL's mix. But if harmonica is Top Shelf Lickers' role player cherished for its reliable contributions behind the arc, then it's Turk's pop song-craft/harmonies doing the heavy lifting of an MVP [think Tony Snell versus Joakim Noah].

In other words, Heart Beats Brain! has enough memorable moments for the highlights shows, even without Snell's corner three: the nothing-but-net hooks of “Dead Beat Dad” and “Can't Stop Dreaming”; the uber-punk transitions of “Bobby the Bullshitter” (“one, two, three, four” at :43); the harmony-laden bridge of Can't Stop Dreaming” (“Had it all back then but I didn’t know / I was full of gratitude but it didn’t show” at 2:25); and the multiple melodies of “It's Never Enough” ( I don’t want to go with you no more …. I don’t need you” from :51-1:17).

Top Shelf Lickers is kind of like a starter bra for fans developing punk tendencies (“stop staring at my punk tendencies!”). Having spruced up tight chord charts with conventionally non-punk instruments on Head First (piano/harmonica), they now melodically mention artists more familiar to the indie scene. After hearing TSL's “Without You,” you go back and realize that neither The Smiths' original nor Billy Bragg's cover of “Jeane” could reach the heights TSL does through the perfected pop punk chorus (“Time ain't on my side when it comes to you” at :53).

But inhering in any EP-length release, is that when something's great, there's never enough of it. Perhaps TSL acknowledges as much when it titled “It's Never Enough,” a song that starts with a standout guitar-permeated intro, but doesn't repeat the riff till the very end. Note to TSL: When you scratch my itch, it's never enough.

*** The author of this review, Leonard Fisher, plays the taiko for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Thunder Driver

Links: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Thunder-Driver/110891022308430

http://www.reverbnation.com/thunderdriver

Though the music industry is not a pure meritocracy, I was still surprised not to have heard of Thunder Driver. And I would have remembered it if I had. The band name itself is like manna from heaven. That is, you'd be hard-pressed to find a better name for a band of this caliber channeling late-70's/early-80's American rock.

With fuel to burn, and song titles like "Down N' Dirty," "License to Rock" and "I Want it Wrong," Bart Goforth's vocals are not far off from AC/DC's, but he tempers it with Motorhead so as not to cloy like Brian Johnson. Lyrics in the Kiss tradition are a great fit here: "If you got it right, then I want it wrong"; "What I hunger for / is rotten to the core"; and "Descending on the Legion Hall / a black leather swarm / no one could believe what they saw."

If every song is a structure, then Thunder Driver is building stadiums to fill, with riffs as rebar. Don't believe me? Call up Spotify, fire up the first half-minutes of "The Bronski" and "Invader's Blues," and check out those riffs and fill-laced chord progressions. Or just listen to the intros of "I Want It Wrong" and "Night of the Gypsy," then tell me you wouldn't rather listen to Thunder Driver than haul out your dusty record collection.

So yes, you'll stream Thunder Driver online; but it's not until you make it to that Legion Hall, with the black leather swarm, that you'll truly learn what it means to be a "Thunderhead."

*** The author of this review, Tony Jordan, plays the shime-jishi daiko for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Supercell Mothership

Link: www.facebook.com/SupercellMothership

Supercell Mothership are self-described “post-genre.” Even without a listen, I'd be inclined to believe it since they're gigging with my favorite New World Ancients, a band who straddles genres like an adonis. But listen I did, and tried to nail them down.

And entertaining it was, as I analyzed the two advanced singles, concluding that a “psychedelic rock” label could stick given the guitar of “Golden Flower,” which brought to mind “Venus in Furs” as it deliberately induced daze through plodding paces. Relevant here, Supercell had been kind enough to admit to a few influences, one of them being the Black Angels, who are not only psych-rock, but named after a Velvet Underground song. Add to this Supercell's layered chorus vocals (“Golden Flower”), permeating keyboard arrangements (“Circles”), and a song-stopping middle section injecting space through lovingly off-kilter riffs (“Golden Flower”) – and Supercell clearly descend from Cale, Reed & Co.

In assembling the puzzle though, I ran across a few pieces belonging to another set. The guitar angles wouldn't sound out of place in Interpol/Strokes-era NYC, and the tone/effect recall the spacious guitar work of The xx. So too with the keys: a tone/setting befitting the best of indie music. But at times (“Circles”), the vocals shade to the mainstream rock stylings of Salvatore Paul "Sully" Erna, who is per se awesome, but persona non grata in the hipster circles frequented by the Interpol/xx/Strokes of the world.

All this could confuse the indie press monolith (itself, the new mainstream). But here, where indie still means something, it's the fans who decide. And decide we will. Loudly. As Supercell Mothership psych-rock us into oblivion. (Yeah, I said it ... psychedelic rock.)

*** The author of this review, Earl Woods, plays the piccolo snare for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Spinning Red

Links: https://www.facebook.com/SpinningRedMusic

http://spinningred.bandcamp.com/

On their self-titled debut EP, Spinning Red proudly display the influences that make them what they are today. What animates this collection, and what makes it eclectic, is that the influences span every decade, or at least the ones that matter, i.e. the guitar decades.

Courtesy of guitarist/founding member Art Rento, the riff intro of Spinning Red's "Stop and Go" pays proper homage to "Purple Haze"-era Hendrix (1967). The 70's was disco, so no one cares. Spinning Red's "The Void" is snarling grunge smoothed out by dark and brooding Staley/Cantrell-caliber harmonies (quite like "What the Hell Have I"); and Alice in Chains entered the recording studio for Facelift in 1989. And on "Judy Two Moons," Spinning Red perfects the ska punk storytelling of Sublime circa 1995's "Date Rape."

Spinning Red is chameleon-like in their ability to blend into whatever guitar genre they're inhabiting. Mark Burd is just as proficient at Weiland rock vocals as he is in owning both of the prototypical punk vocals (on "Judy Two Moons"). And Spinning Red's tightly coiled guitar and rhythm section execute with a professional precision that's matched only by this EP's polished production.

The beginning of "The Void" unfolds with moody strumming joined by haunting vocal harmonies and expressive cymbal work. The calm is devastated by the storm, an angry bass announcing aggressive riffs of distortion. When Rento's riffage relents (2/3rds of the way through), the moody intro is re-introduced, but this time it's altered -- its context darkened by climbing bass (excellent), churning guitars, and spoken word. When the vocal hook resumes, you'll note the expert percussion that amplifies Spinning Red's unique brand of melodic hard rock. (The drums are outstanding throughout this EP.)

But "Judy Two Moons" is the standout track for me. Spinning Red does punk better than most bands devoted to the genre, doing so without resorting to tired power chords. Burd is clearly cognizant of punk phrasing and melody, and double-times his vocals with effects on, slowing down with them off. Spinning Red is just as good at rock (as this EP shows); but it could be that its proficiency in musicianship and song-writing shines more brightly when viewed in light of the limitation that is the two-minute song length.

Whether Spinning Red chooses to focus on punk or rock or to continue with both, there can be no doubt that the guitar decades will forever serve as their inspiration. And in this, we will always be well-served by Spinning Red.

*** The author of this review, Philip Graham, plays the octaban for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

LIVE! Skindance

Artist: Skindance

Link: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Skindance/844078655636919

Skindance's guitarist/singer/frontman John Dilday reminds me of The Melvins' Buzz Osborne, fully inhabiting the duo's rhythmic interplay [of drums/guitar] as he moves, screams, yells, and generally throws himself wherever the guitar's going. But not unlike the girl-with-cigarette on his Dinosaur Jr. T-shirt, I'm sure Dilday could give a fuck what he looks like.

The “rock first, rock always, live and let die” ethos of the best live acts in the visceral rock genres (grunge/punk/garage) was on full display. Check the chronology of this particular Skindance show: Treat your guitar like the punk-bitch it is, break a string. Pull out another guitar, grind it against the amplifier, promptly break two more strings.

Then proceed to nail the blistering vocals and feverish interplay of the recorded versions. In fact, if Dilday and drummer Tony Panizzo were not separated at birth, I'd argue their locked-in rhythms suggest they at least share the same beer bong. High point of the night? A fan requested “FATS,” and Skindance fired it up without hesitation, thrilling us all with Dilday's bloody-raw vocal and that memorable riff.

Given his faculty with melodic verses, Dilday bathed in the pretty stage lights could trick an unsuspecting listener into resting comfortably ensconced in serenity. Word to the wise: Snap the fuck out of it. It's just a prelude to power.

*** The author of this review, Shawn Myers, plays the naqareh for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Sean Magwire

Links: https://www.facebook.com/seanmagwiremusic

http://www.noisetrade.com/seanmagwire/among-the-burning-stars-noisetrade-version

With minimal percussion, we are Among the Burning Stars, silent -- alone with beauty. Sean Magwire builds lush environments with layers of vocals, acoustic guitar, cello and piano. Check out Magwire's craftsmanship on "Sun Goes Cold." Piano chords form the sturdy window pane, so keyboard notes can fall like raindrops. Then Magwire doubles his vocals, achieving the same gorgeous tone as Peter Gabriel in his prime. And on the same track, Magwire adds falsetto blends, accenting the song the way Bon Iver does -- Magwire doing so in rounds, no less.

Other contemporary touches include ascending harmonies on "Be Here" (a la Mumford & Sons) and the quick chord changes of "Dear Dear" (Mumford; Philip Philips). "Golden States and Restless Ways" is another example of Magwire's skill. After a second hook capped by the memorable line, "[Katie,] I forgot to write you into my story," we get a perfectly-placed bridge of marching piano.

"Best of Me" is where, lyrically, Magwire shines. Magwire's narrator sings to his ex-[but all too current]love, "Lost myself outside your door...I gave you all I had...Seasons come, and the years go by / I set my course and I close my eyes / 'Cause you are where I want to be / Right there with the best of me / If I go before you leave / Let me know what you have found in me." Sean Magwire is where he belongs: Making us happy with song. He is passionate, and beloved.

*** The author of this review, Jesse Russell, plays the katem for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: ReDeMeR

Links: https://www.facebook.com/redemertime

http://www.reverbnation.com/redemertime/songs

The closest analogue to Chicago's Redemer is Death Grips. Putting aside their pretentious Chateau Marmont stint, and the heavy-handedness of the art school documentary memorializing it, Death Grips has brought us splendidly chaotic entries threaded with traces of 90's mainstream hip-hop. At one point, it even looked like Death Grips had a sense of humor. [No dice: It turns out the No Love Deep Web dick pic album art was just further evidence that the band includes one or more self-serious ideologues. But their bold statement was bargained away long ago – the moment the band presumably contracted away their right to stop the music from being streamed on outlets that pixelate the appendage, e.g. Spotify.]

Well, Redemer does have a sense of humor, happily singing about magic fucking turtles, and how these shelled reptiles might just fuck your wife – or save your life. They also have the 90's box checked with “Wrong Turn”'s allusion (at 3:14-3:22) to the intro of MJ/Janet's “Scream.” Simply put, Redemer's musical mosaic is no less gripping for its lack of penis pictures.

Case in point is the dual-blade buzz saw of “Rock Show.” We get the sneering snarl of a David Yao (or a Tasmanian devil); and while this is nothing new (Pissed Jeans made a career out of it), this is the first time I've heard it alternated with the guttural growl of metal. (Redemer's rhythm section toggling between bouncy and beast mode like it's a PlayStation.)

Redemer's Facebook page hints at a breakdown in their musical order – that Redemer has died. It wouldn't surprise me. Sometimes a mass of human entrails comes courtesy of four horses galloping in different directions. But it'll be a hiatus, if that – the music itself reanimates corpses. So let it be said, Redemer makes music that makes zombies. [Heck, I'm convinced the whole of “Wrong Turn” is just that: the mobilizing chants; the carnage that ensues when the magic works; then the charged silence of a world that's both void of human life and full of dormant zombies.]

*** The author of this review, Ernest Foster, plays the maddale for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Artist: The Bad Bees

Links: https://www.facebook.com/beezpleazzz

https://badbees.bandcamp.com/

There are born singers. Singular voices who don't just survive but thrive in musically minimal environments. Not many instruments are as instantly recognizable as the voices of Sam Amidon (“I Wish I Wish”), Antony & the Johnsons (“Kiss My Name”), or Elliott Smith (“Angeles”). They nail it time and again with originals and covers, e.g. Hegarty's “Knockin' on Heaven's Door.” They do more with less, and can bring a tear to an eye with practically anything. (Sufjan Stevens' “John Wayne Gacy, Jr.” is proof of that.)

But there are others. Just as gifted. Maybe by ditching chorus class, they amassed a charisma befitting a particular setting. You can hear it in the rollicking spirit of the White Stripes (“Screwdriver”), the ghost of the hauntingly sinister Portishead (“Cowboys”), or that compelling hybrid of the two – which I term Evil Jack White mode – typified by the Wytches of the world (“Burn Out the Bruise”).

Then there's the middle ground, and that's where the Bad Bees' gifted vocalist puts in work. But before now, I haven't had a reference point for it, and the Bad Bees' song titles don't help. “Grey to Blue” brought to mind Billy Bragg's memorable “From Red to Blue,” but the bright noise was closer to “My Girls” (Animal Collective not Temptations). “Cowboy Coffee” recalled Modest Mouse's “Cowboy Dan,” but only insofar as it is a story-telling song name-checking something cowboy in nature. (And while the execution of both “Cowboy” songs is admirable, description of unlikable main characters will always have a limited capacity to affect real emotion in listeners.)

But after taking in all the Bad Bees' music, I finally found it. The reference point for vocalists who are not so distinct/one-note as to conjure comparison with the Tom Waits of the world (“Filipino Box Spring Hog”), but who cannot abide the self-limitation of indie folk. The comparison can be found in the Cold War Kids (“Go Quietly”). And like those major label indie rockers (an oxymoron?), in Jake Barbadoro the Bad Bees have a vocalist who can belt bluesy rock (“Where Ya Comin' From”), tip over into falsetto (“Supermoon”), or carry the lion's share of songs like “Harvest.”

More than that, because the Bad Bees build musical bridges spanning vast expanses – “Where Ya Comin From” (at 2:53) and “Harvest” (2:23) – the Bad Bees can go where most bands don't. It doesn't matter that “Supermoon” opens like Paul Banks' “Summertime is Coming” then Wavves' “Baseball Cards,” because the song changes. Then changes again. Percussive nuance serving as signposts for several prechoruses (:46/:59/1:12), which set up a slow-burning hook with distinct phases of its own (1:26 then 1:52). But like “Grey to Blue” (sounds/effects at :51), “Supermoon” really shines when the Bad Bees add colorful brush strokes to already sophisticated lines, applying layers of drums (2:18 then 2:32), guitars (at 2:25), and backing vocals (e.g. 2:39).

The standout tracks are “Grey to Blue,” which is what I hope the Bad Bees' “sound” is, as well as “Supermoon,” which showcases song-writing abilities that will keep fans excited regardless of any experimentation beyond that one “sound.” Add to that a singer who can do it all.

This guy could elevate Spotify ads to must-listen streaming.

*** The author of this review, Bobby Washington, plays the lambeg drum for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Steve Layman

Links: https://www.facebook.com/stevelaymanmusic

https://www.facebook.com/barnburnerrecords

Steve Layman self-describes as “acoustic punk”; and with various manifestations across two releases, these roots show. While working on a second full-length (which is scheduled for a 2015 release date), Layman tides us over with Keepsakes. Across the five song EP, Layman's punk can be heard in the raw acoustic strumming bringing to mind Dinosaur Jr.'s J Mascis' Martin + Me, which is alt rock, and the power vocals of a Seven Mary Three (“Headstrong”), which is grunge – unique touchstones for a singer-songwriter. As for punk on his Hope Is All We Have LP, Layman lyrically deep-dives inconsistencies inhering in the genre's ever-evolving/devolving ethos (“Pigeonholed”), and on “Death & Taxes” attacks that same bankrupt American culture NOFX assails, doing so through rollicking rock that moves and shifts like the best of Cymbals Eat Guitars (“XR”).

It is on this debut full-length that Layman introduces considerable dynamism through the addition of instruments (including Layman's own electric guitar) and musicians – Ron Grieco (drums), Mike Cox (bass), and Tony Bucci (guest vocals). If Hope Is All We Have provides any clue, we can come to expect from Steve Layman albums dimension-adding percussion (:44-53 of “Take You Back”) and bass (3:04 of “Take You Back”); acoustic guitar that paces (:36 of “For The Hills”) and commands attention through intricacy (intro of “Fly Creek”); and an electric guitar that expresses with embellishment, fills (:44 of “Take You Back”), and solos (3:00 of “Irish Guilt”) – not to mention vocal diversity through layering and screamo a la the REM-turn-Thursday of “Fly Creek” at 3:04 (or 1:43 of “Irish Guilt”).

Through melodic mentions in “For the Hills” and “Highway Lines,” we find that Steve Layman shares ancestral relatives with Frightened Rabbit (“Late March, Death March”) and Mark Lanegan (“The River Rise”). And like them, whether alone or with musical friends, Layman often establishes enduring connections with the listener through observation and poetry.

Layman's choice observations are too numerous to go into here, so allow me an illustrative example: a lyric to “Pigeonholed.” After taking on punk's extensive rules governing DIY, Layman applies blunt honesty to both himself and the human condition (“I’ll play with whoever I want, wherever I can / Because chances are we’re all a little out of step / Success is not measured in wealth”) and then: (1) writes lyrical truth (“And you don’t need to start a family to feel love”), (2) but doesn't deliver it, (3) because he subsequently discovered an even more enlightened bon mot (“Procreation's not the only form of creation”).

Likewise, poetic turns of phrase abound, but “Wildflower” provides a perfect example: “You say 'I feel like a wild flower / The ones we found down by the stream / The ones that you picked out for me / On that lazy afternoon / ….I wish the wind would set me free.” And on “Unfit Dullard,” when Layman finds he has “no time for allegory,” he is a man of few words. But still, for ignorant hate-mongers, he summons the most poetic admonition of all:

“Get fucked, you ignorant piece of shit.”

And when Steve Layman says it, it’s making a lot of sense.

*** The author of this review, Howard Patterson, plays the kendang for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

LIVE! Bitter Valentines

Artist: Bitter Valentines

Link: https://www.facebook.com/BitterValentines

We arrived late to Freddy's, but were fortunate enough to see some of Bitter Valentines' set. A traditional four-piece, all of whom add something to BV's compelling brand of hard rock, the Bitter Valentines thundered through their set on the strength of Der S.'s vocal performance. Although BV is more rock than punk, Der's vocals bring to mind some of the best protest punk singers in the business. Imagine the vocal performances that have you checking Flogging Molly's live calendar; and then get in line for Bitter Valentines instead. Unlike a Flogging Molly show, right now in NYC you could be just footsteps away from a frontman who makes you feel the way he does. (Heck, you might even slam-dance with him, as fans did here.) Never did his howling voice fail him (or us). Not once was I less than moved by his emotive vocal musicianship.

*** The author of this review, Jeremy Jenkins, plays the igihumurizo for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

LIVE! Brooke Fox

Artist: Brooke Fox

Link: https://www.facebook.com/BrookeFoxMusic

It's just Brooke Fox and her guitar on-stage at the Trash Bar. She won't be needing anything else. Her voice will always be enough. Like other singer-songwriters, she'll cover Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah"; but Brooke's is the rare voice that matches the song's lyrical transcendence. And she has the ability to showcase it right out of the gate, nailing ever higher notes in her first song. That's the pattern Brooke wisely employs in her originals: In chorus, she selects a phrase to repeat, and with every utterance her voice ascends and soars on a talent rarely seen even in New York City. (She'll never encounter a note she can't hit or even top by an octave or two.) So seek her out. You'll never forget her vocal power.

*** The author of this review, Billy Ross, plays the ingoma for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

LIVE! Vultus

Artist: Vultus

Link: https://www.facebook.com/pages/VULTUS/385046891160

Although a few other genres still rattle around their sound, at its best Vultus is a metal-edged rock band with Danzig-like vocals. (You'll understand that as a compliment when you recall that Glenn Danzig founded the Misfits before shooting the video for Mother '93.) Vultus' drummer is superior. He drums better than you, and the band knows it. And they'll let him change time just to prove it, supremely confident he'll lead the way. (It's a blast watching Vultus' bassist contentedly surf that percussive wave.) Vultus is a band bound by chemistry moving together as one organism. With a distinctive voice, and dueling leads swapping riffs and fills, Vultus dispatches rock songs with metal precision.

*** The author of this review, Harry Bennett, plays the goblet drum for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

LIVE! Full Molder

Artist: Full Molder

Link: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Full-Molder/198439316836643

Full Molder's singer/guitarist/frontman, Jali Lin, has rock swagger to spare with grunge/punk anthems howling for "more more more." And if you wonder whether a drummer can keep time while standing on his drum stool, the answer is yes -- if it's Full Molder's drummer, Animal. Animal is everything a rock drummer should be: shirtless, tatted, he hits the skins hard, and crashes the cymbals early and often. (And his wingspan and hair makes the kit appear small, toy-like.) Animal aims for a high degree of difficulty and for the most part nails it (exception: cymbal casualty). Rocking out to Animal is bassist Rob who uses all 24 frets of his gorgeous cutaway bass, never settling for root notes, but not letting them get lost in the flourish. Full Molder is intimidatingly cool. But with their music, they invite you to bash it out with them. You leave spent, convinced you belong. And that's the secret of any good rock band. Full Molder is rock 'n' roll as it should be.

*** The author of this review, Bruce Sanders, plays the dollu for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

LIVE! The Nymphidels

Artist: The Nymphidels

Link: https://www.facebook.com/Nymphidels

The Nymphidels are a Providence, Rhode Island duo with a cool name and an even cooler female front, Jess Moroney. Jess truly rocks out on vocals and electric guitar to Pat Flanagan's rollicking drum beats. As for musical style, the Nymphidels are the direct descendents of Liz Phair and Veruca Salt. The duo could add a guitar/vocal, freeing Jess to rock us even harder. But if it would diminish her alt-rock swagger - I mean, at all - I wouldn't change a thing.

*** The author of this review, Nicholas James, plays the dholak for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Eliza & the Organix

Links: https://www.facebook.com/ElizaAndTheOrganix

http://elizaandtheorganix.bandcamp.com/

https://soundcloud.com/elizaandtheorganix

Eliza & the Organix self-describe as a rock group with foundations in jazz and blues. I don't know about the “rock” part, though “Fanciful You” (at 1:30) touches on the same guitar tones as Van Halen's “Top Jimmy.”

But jazz and blues do permeate E&O's The Organix Experience. Whether it be the jazz-cool instrumentation of Erik Snow (drums, percussion) and Kristen Tivey (alto saxophone), or Eliza's electric guitar licks that span jazz (“I Just Wanna Dance”) and blues (“Fanciful You”), the music showcases a powerful vocal dripping with charisma – Eliza's chief instrument, attracting a serious suite of talented jazz musicians.

Although E&O invokes jazz, it would be unfair to compare Eliza with the Billie Holidays of the genre. But the voice of Eliza, strong and clear – especially on the verses of E&O's “The Autumn Has Arrived” – does withstand comparison to the best in female-fronted indie folk/rock acts: “Let Me Have This” brings to mind Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs; and “Cold Comfort” recalls Fiona Apple.

Better still, just like Jewel, Eliza can go either thick or thin on vocals. That is, unlike other one-note singers (including the aforementioned notables), someone like Jewel freshens up the passion-power play, breaking it up with the occasional wispy vocal delivery. Eliza also brings to bear both singing styles; her reedy-thin mode operates in the hooks of “Lullaby for Fools” and “Autumn,” and is akin to that of nature folkie, Laura Veirs.

E&O's bio cops to quirkiness, and this might be the only subjective element the listener will have to weigh in on. Because the beginning of “The Bazaar” might be Ella, but the rest of it (starting at :37) is all Eliza – Eliza with a “z.” (Speaking of: Liza Minnelli could also sell this song segment – jazz hands and all.) But the stop-and-start song construction, along with its monkey-centric lyrics, recalls the lovely “freak folk” harpist, Joanna Newsom-Samberg. Lyrically speaking, “Fanciful You” includes such gems as “you bring your baby to term” and “you eat your Snickers bar with a knife and fork,” which just might be a Seinfeld reference, and could by itself place E&O into Camp Quirky.

Whether Eliza continues to find her fun lyrically, or instead opts to marshal that idiosyncrasy through complex song construction a la “freak folk” standout Tune-Yards (just discovered “freak folk” is a genre that also boasts indie stalwarts Animal Collective and Sufjan Stevens), E&O will remain a band to watch. Because night or day, regardless of weather, Eliza's vocal will be the shining beacon for any direction E&O chooses to take.

*** The author of this review, Willie Ward, plays the dhimaya for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Monday, March 16, 2015

Artist: The Prairie Ghosts

Links: https://www.facebook.com/PrairieGhosts

http://www.reverbnation.com/prairieghosts/songs

The Prairie Ghosts are something to behold -- a thing of beauty, even. While a number of songs on Habit are night blues, it's the unexpectedly chill daytime road trip feeling we get from songs like "Rust," "Habit" and "Devil Dance" that capitalize on the Prairie Ghosts' beautifully-toned electric guitar and fascinating organ/bass lines.

It's this truly American brand of song-craft that sets the tone for lyrical highlights such as "Now it's time to move on / But I can't say I don't love her / There's only one thing that helps me / That I have discovered / Ain't gonna pick up the pieces / I'll just leave them behind." (Usually their lyrics are a study in contrasts: "I've got the motive, baby / you've got the means"; "You heard what I said / but not what I think"; "You give me what I want / but not what I need"; and the entire hook of "Rust.")

Luckily, whether the music runs dark or light, Michael Shehan's richly textured baritone carries compelling songs that, like the band, are built to last. Notably, a song like "Vagabondage" hints at a potential that's even more complex and alluring -- rarely is such musical sophistication heard in a genre known for song titles that include "vagabond" and "bondage" or, as here, both ("Vagabondage"). Perhaps unlike that song title then, The Prairie Ghosts are aptly named, and as good as they come.

*** The author of this review, Gerald Richardson, plays the tof for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Phil Jacobson

Links: https://www.facebook.com/pjmusic

https://soundcloud.com/12phillyj/sets/loverightnow

On the Love Right Now EP, we hear the smooth vocal of Phil Jacobson as it nimbly moves over expert supporting musicianship produced by Grammy-nominated Dan Warner. Although we hear hints of Michael Buble (phrasing), Hanson (harmonies) and Justin Timberlake (timbre), Jacobson's music is closer akin to Jason Mraz with melodies that, while lighthearted and playful, are not without substance.

For example, "Don't Let Me Leave" features Jacobson capably dueling with Taylor Byrd on acoustic guitar; they're joined by the incomparable organ of Peter Wallace (excellent throughout this EP), and we're instantly transported to that delightfully chill place first inhabited by Looking Glass' "Brandy" (who's a fine girl).

Popular as the genre is, Jacobson will face some fierce competition; but he's already halfway there with quality production, and instrumental flourishes that are minimally employed to maximum effect. The trick will be fitting his solid vocal choruses with lyrics that are not only music-appropriate, but that also create nostalgic or romantic spaces that are novel or at least definite -- with John Mayer, it was the halls of his high school, or the deep sea of blankets on his lover's bed. (In contrast, some of "Don't Let Me Leave" has Jacobson's narrator on a plane.)

Without a doubt, with his considerable talent and support, we'll be hearing from Phil Jacobson for many years to come.

*** The author of this review, Jonathan Murphy, plays the tabl for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Palmflower

Link: https://www.facebook.com/pages/PALMFLOWER/62439546408

The Breeders put on a clinic with Mountain Battles. Songs like “German Studies” and “Istanbul,” “Here No More” and “We're Gonna Rise,” taught solitary singers dimensionality through vocal harmony and interplay. But that Ohio-to-Chicago signal seemed a bit lost in transmission. Until Palmflower. Like the Sisters Deal, Palmflower's vocals-first approach conveys considerable charisma and charm. And though “I Write Myself Notes” shares the same gravity-defying propulsion as the Breeders' “Cannonball,” Palmflower cannot be relegated to the limits of alt-rock.

Palmflower resides where ambient and dream pop intersect. The music of Palmflower is all loose beauty – amorphous, atmospheric, ethereal. Beholding the wonder of Palmflower's gift is to re-train our eye permanently towards artistry. Before, we were content to look out the window; now, nothing less than the stained glass of Gothic cathedrals will do. Palmflower calls itself “future church music.” Indeed.

Palmflower uses all manner of affected guitar, organ and vocal to transform ordinary instruments into lush soundscapes. With “Buried Under,” and not unlike the Verve's A Storm in Heaven, Palmflower renders for us a cavernous space reverberating with echoing guitars, vocals and sound droplets (which gather into puddles for us to jump into or trip out on). Similarly, and despite a hypnotizing vocal lead, it's the descending background vocals of “Skeletons Can't Swim” that streak the night with color like trailing fireworks.

Palmflower's song-writing mastery is evident on “Newlywed Lovers,” which features a slow-rolling introduction ultimately cutting drums and adding bass to begin the song proper at :39. But it is the tension/release (1:05/1:19) of “Day After Dead”'s pre-chorus/chorus that reaches the high bar of “intuitive pop” Palmflower sets for itself. Few artists (save for maybe Atlas Sound or Wild Nothing) reach such dizzying heights.

And for those convinced Neil Young's “Like a Hurricane” is per se perfect, let's keep an open mind. Because Palmflower did it: They did the song justice, and may even be the preferred drug of choice for Neil Young junkies. The trick? Letting the lyrics shine through. Because as emotive a voice as Young's is, it is also pained, and there cannot be two focal points. There's only one eye of the hurricane, and it took Palmflower (with pulsing organ and minimalist guitar accent) to finally introduce metaphorically appropriate calm.

Perhaps Palmflower will continue adding layers a la Spiritualized. Or maybe they'll just keep charming us with their Breeders-esque vocal superiority. Regardless, it's the first “gospel pop” I've heard. And it is good.

*** The author of this review, Joe Cook, plays the daul for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Sunday, March 15, 2015

Artist: OK Sara

Links: https://www.facebook.com/oksaraband

http://oksara.bandcamp.com/

OK Sara has heard Mumford & Sons, this we know. (There's a joke at the expense of these folk-rock exemplars-turn-scapegoats.) But all that second-hand listening didn't sink in – I mean, at all. OK Sara instead subsisted on a steady diet of Dinosaur Jr. (hear “Feel the Pain” in “Hey”), The Pixies (“Gigantic” and “Where Is My Mind” in “Boyager”), Modest Mouse (“Polar Opposite” in “Moving Castle”; “The World at Large” in “Env Chem”), Bush (“Glycerine” in “Boyager”), blink-182 (“Dammit” in “Boyager”), Weezer (“Death and Destruction” in “Brokly”) and Titus Andronicus (in OK's “Tumblrkrbrzkr”).

OK Sara uses the bass guitar to introduce songs replete with melodic guitar accents and Chicago references. These set up a lyrical cleverness previewed by that Mumford joke (on “Try”): “I'd rather listen to Mumford and Son[s] than another fucking word out of your mouth / Be careful what you're drinking, baby, I don't want you to stain your pretty blouse.” OK Sara turns that scathing indictment inward on “Tumblrkrbrzkr”: “I went through 37 pages of your Tumblr before I realized you're not for me / I'm not in art school / You won't think it's cool / To stay home and watch TNG.”

Just as Mark Hoppus' tale of a young adult fling was leavened with prank phone calls and ADD-inspired TV viewing (“What's My Age Again”), OK Sara mixes and matches both macro and micro elements, with entertainingly original results. To wit, on “Brokly,” after a blissfully lethargic intro that contrasts nicely with the uptempo open of “Try,” OK Sara gets Chicago-lovers all aroused with a loving allusion to the Berwyn/Bryn Mawr Jewel-Osco. Our narrator ditches a bug-ridden produce purchase, expecting the inevitable ants to carry it away. After speculating the ants' queen will just as soon feed on the mites' carcasses as the broccoli, the narrator proceeds to catalog his own concerns, both personal and dietary: “When I die, I hope they don't find me / Don't wanna be eaten, 'cause I doubt that's vegan.” I love that: a concern for dietary purity even in the face of death. (Also behold the macro/micro of interscholastic sports/internet dating on "OKS II": "Coach says I won't win my match / At least I got this match for free.")

With a charismatic vocal, minimalist guitar embellishment, and high-minded lyrics documenting the normal life, OK Sara's Mutt Tracks LP is well worth your time.

*** The author of this review, Arthur Morris, plays the daf for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: The New World Ancients

Links: https://www.facebook.com/newworldancients

http://newworldancients.bandcamp.com/

Wow. The opening track of Temporal Beast, "Eternal Return," had me thinking my listening experience would be Bono singing over Depeche Mode -- U2's "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me," in other words. Then "Shapeshifter" started, and the vocal recalled Tomahawk's Mike Patton and Jesus Lizard's David Yow. But then "Word to the Unwise" began, the vocal was a dead ringer for Talking Heads' David Byrne ("Progress is messy / But success is sexy / Progress is necessary / And excess is customary"), and I gave up trying to classify them altogether. So I just enjoyed.

The New World Ancients rock at the intersection of experimental and progressive. The musicians involved are studio-caliber professionals that give a song exactly what it needs and nothing more. But all of that would be just showing off if the parts didn't mesh. And boy do they ever: on a track like "Two Sirens," the band's proficiency couldn't be more clear.

Not unlike English progressive rockers, Mansun, TNWA writes songs that move the listener, have him convinced he's heard something original, and leave a lasting impact rivaled only by the band's ambition to do something completely new. As the track unfolds, we get a spaghetti western with its bending acoustic guitar notes and harmonica. But what comes next? Clanging guitar not often heard outside of Sonic Youth noise rock. The sinew connecting these dramatic scenes is a falsetto resembling Mansun's Paul Draper or even Radiohead's Thom Yorke. Actually, this song, with its vocal, guitar tones, and second-half jam, could have made it onto Radiohead's seminal OK Computer.

On "Caesar!," and like Radiohead's "Life in a Glasshouse," TNWA brings the horns; but these horns are confirmation of the Squirrel Nut Zippers' notion that there exists a jazzy night club in hell. On "In Defense of Man or the Destroyer Returns," after prominent bass lines -- and yes, the rhythm section is so good that TNWA can and does build songs around it -- we get skilled vocal phrasing of excellent lyrics, "Fear / Is a powerful emotion / It does wonders to a man's otherwise reasonable notions of plausibility / And as for me, I do, I do, I feel a certain responsibility / For the work my hands have done." (And then we get gentle, precious singing about birds, which sets up more hard rock.)

Simply put, TNWA is good. Really good. And so again I say wow.

*** The author of this review, Douglas Edwards, plays the dabakan for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Mike Michalak Band

Link: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mike-Michalak-Band/175051799191072

So progressive rock has always had a flair for the dramatic. Mike Michalak Band is no different. With darkness and acid rain falling on Super Pig as it flies over the kingdom it surveys ("Super Pig"), there can be no doubt. But there's also no arguing the appeal of the track's Faith No More-style doubling of gorgeously-toned electric guitars.

I'd also argue that outside of some fantastic flute playing, any progressive outfit worth its salt will have a guitarist who can manage a lick or two. Suffice it to say, MMB has its own Alex Lifeson. On a song like "Really Want to Know," we get southern rock guitar giving way to snake-y Slash-like riffs, ending in what I would conservatively term a shred clinic. But it's not limited to that song: Nearly every track features sonically arresting guitar work, including song-appropriate solos and textural definition.

And the song-writing is just as good. After "Another Day," an album-opener reminiscent of the splendid "Sister Havana" by Chicago's native sons, Urge Overkill, we get the standout "Times Like This." It starts with some low-in-the-mix guitar sounds, being panned, adding dimension. This is interrupted by choppy guitar chords, but even these give way to singing that ends up being largely supported by a prominent bass line (the bass, excellent throughout the album), with the guitar jumping back in only to accent the melody of a compelling vocal hook, "When you get up on the road / In the middle of a daydream / You can never go home." (And of course, later in the song, we get an admirably restrained solo ending in a speedy run.)

Further in, "Product" has some nice ascending harmonies of the progressive style, running into a brick wall of rock riffage. And just to show that they can flex that muscle, MMB brings us "If She Comes Around," a ballad carried by the band's considerable talents in song-writing and guitar textures, as well as by rock vocals that, as on "Times Like This," recall those of the propulsive Vince Neil.

This band is so much more than the sweet-ass visual that is the super pig. But without a super pig, MMB might not be the MMB we know and love today: thrilling guitars, vocals and rhythm section; and memorable rock anthems.

*** The author of this review, Patrick Parker, plays the tumba for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Magatha Trysty

Links: https://www.facebook.com/MagathaTrysty

https://soundcloud.com/magathatrysty/sets/your-clothes-will-wear

With a band name like Magatha Trysty, it's a wonder they don't resort to cleverness more often, because singer Christopher David, in perfect harmony with his wife, Catherine Louise (herself, a Chrissie Hynde-caliber vocalist), sounds completely at home going quirky -- "when I wake up in this hotel bar / with working girls on my MasterCard" or "I'll say I lost you in the war" and "I draw your face on...bits of pages torn from Popular Mechanics" -- with a nasal-tinged voice that's strong in tone and full of character a la They Might Be Giants and Green Day's Billie Joe Armstrong.

This collection of up-tempo power-pop chord progressions make for standout performances by bassist Billy Blastoff; and the capable piano is rivaled only by the under-employed xylophone/glockenspiel. As promised, Your Clothes Will Wear Themselves is stuffed to the gills with all manner of catchy musical hook and verse. In fact, listening to the first minute of album-opener "Want to Stay" would make most bands trade the one reliable drummer they know for Magatha Trysty's pop musicianship.

Generally speaking, bands avoid cliche by focusing on particularity -- the credit cards and magazines that populate real-life romantic encounters, rather than vague master narratives of love and love lost. It's when Magatha Trysty does so that it delivers on the promise of their genre. And it's here that it all comes together (to wit, the poetic hook of "I'd make you perfect like before / before all of the damage").

*** The author of this review, Jerry Roberts, plays the conga for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Leper

Link: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Leper/51298450805

On the Leper song, "What Does it Mean to Die," we hear a snippet of conversation featuring a male adult asking, "Should we dig up some graves tonight?," to which a young child excitedly responds, "Oh boy, a field trip!"

This bit of hilarity is well-situated in a long line of hard rock humorists marked by Buckethead's "Onions Unleashed" and "I Come In Peace" and the entirety of Cornbugs' catalog (all of which pair Buckethead with the brilliant lyrical/spoken word talents of horror actor, Bill Moseley). Of course, since Leper's spoken word comes through samples, and not a live vocal, a more apt comparison would be Atari Teenage Riot. Regardless of reference point, "horror humor" works well only if the music has an undercurrent of menace. Luckily, with Leper, we get Tomahawk-like ferocity with songs like "Chop Chop Chop" (a song with a cadence rivaling that of Korn's bastardized nursery rhyme, "Shoots and Ladders").

Putting aside the samples on the album, you'll also notice that Beautiful Gray Day is paced by electronic-sounding beats reminiscent of Adore-era Smashing Pumpkins and, when coupled with prominent bass, Depeche Mode. Leper cops to NIN and Cure leanings, so it's appropriate to bring up nearly-90's artists and the bands they inspired. But it's not surprising hard rock's Leper would be influenced by Cure. After all, a stunningly broad cross-section of artists found success with Cure covers (Tricky/311/a recent American Idol finalist).

Topping it all are the gorgeous vocals of Skot Shaw. His rich baritone recalls that of Geoff Tate, who (despite his Queensryche affiliation) is consistently ranked among the best voices in metal. Leper's strong vocal lead transforms quality lyrics into memorable turns-of-phrase: "There's just one thing that I would want / Darling, haunt me" ("Haunt"); "It doesn't bother me / If you worship me / In the end, all I wanted was attention from you" ("The Artist in You").

Some bands settle for the equivalent of speaking softly and carrying a big stick (Teddy Roosevelt); Leper could have done so, and just went with its top notch vocal. But Leper walks softly and carries an armored tank division (Colonel Jessup), ratcheting up the vocal power with screams (on "I'm Not Afraid to Sleep Anymore"); effects-laden chants ("Words are weapons, chop chop chop"); and on standout track "The Artist in You," guttural growls, rhythmic breathing, and background whispers/screams, that wouldn't sound out of place on a Marilyn Manson track.

You expect a lot out of a band called Leper. But after listening to Beautiful Gray Day, you'll conclude that not only were your expectations wrong (there's nary a narrative about rotting human flesh), but also that Leper managed to exceed them anyway.

*** The author of this review, Raymond Nelson, plays the veekku chenda for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: James Montjoy

Links: https://www.facebook.com/JamesMontjoyMusic

http://jamesmontjoy.bandcamp.com/

James Montjoy is noteworthy for his Johnny Cash-style story songs, which are laced with danger befitting the road ballads first popularized with "Wanted Dead or Alive." The latter reference point is apropos as Montjoy's brooding charisma wouldn't have sounded out of place on those JBJ/Sambora ballads.

Tracks like "West Texas" and "Hero's Fate" recount stories of heroic figures battling forces beyond their control, while "Jen's Song" focuses on a significant other who inspires in the narrator the desire to do something more to show his feelings -- it includes the poetically direct, "Sometimes I feel you don't feel loved / So I put it in a song."

Montjoy folds in some nice instrumentation -- harmonica on "Hero's Fate" and strings for "Jen's Song" -- which adds considerable dimension to otherwise minimalist acoustic arrangements. The spoken word sections of "Acoustic Hoopla" make it a welcome addition to that line of bouncy, not-so-serious pop songs begat by Cake's "Sheep Go To Heaven." And the prominent harmony vocals of "Jen's Song" add a lighter, or at least more vulnerable, side to Montjoy that represents a sign-post marking a path for future exploration.

The standout track, "West Texas," opens with gorgeous acoustic strumming, joined by scene-stealing lead guitar flourish, which is accented here-and-there by a nice slide electric. Montjoy's narrator regales us with the fascinating tale of a road warrior who stops off at a bar in West Texas. He makes eyes at an attractive bar patron, which she reciprocates, but it is just her distracting him as her two confederates sneak up from behind, steal his gun, and put him out of commission. When he regains consciousness (with busted lips and a swollen eye), his hands are tied, and his gun is gone. I won't spoil the ending, but I'll just say (a) no one really ever escapes anything of consequence, and (b) there's always a smoking gun.

I could listen to these stories all day long, and I look forward to a great many more from James Montjoy. His is a fine tradition: that of epic storytellers.

*** The author of this review, Eric Scott, plays the barriles for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: The Idle Rich

Link: https://www.facebook.com/IdleRich

On Brain Devour, the propulsive garage rock of the Idle Rich conjures the savagery of early Yeah Yeah Yeahs and, well, Savages. Look no further than standout tracks, “I'm Already Dead” and “Man Like Me,” and behold the blistering garage-blues vocal of Holly Winters, who approaches Grace Slick and Karen O (that is, of Fever to Tell-vintage) with her fierce power and charisma. Be it pulsing waves of distortion or simply a naked bassline, the song structures shape-shift to showcase Winters' visceral howl.

But there's a second female lead fronting Brain Devour's other half – and it's this, Jenn Spitler's unassailably punk vocal, that adds a whole new dimension to the Idle Rich. Recalling The Scream-era Siouxsie and the Banshees, check Spitler's sing-songy warning, “Leave / Me alone / Get the fuck / Away from me,” a shot chased by the lyric establishing her punk rock bona fides of a life that's been lived in, “I don't want this complicated / Mass of shit that's human love” (“Insignificant”). And this is to say nothing of Spitler's considerable gift for melody: “Bury me / In flowers, please” (1:32 of “Flowers Please”); “[Wait now for the] blow” (1:18 of “Brain Devour”); “Oh dawn / It laughs at me” (1:55 of “Next Sunset”).

So pick your poison. It's Holly or Jenn. 'Cause either way, it's the Idle Rich.

*** The author of this review, Larry Wright, plays the bongo drums for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Go Fight

Link: https://www.facebook.com/gofightband

Go Fight self-defines as “electroscuzz.” A Google search of the word turns up Go Fight on the very first page; so they're either big on the scene, or made up the word. Neither would surprise me. Because while their Facebook page reveals a sense of humor, their music is perfectly produced provocation.

But there's a question whether “electroscuzz” is an apt descriptive. Of course Go Fight is “electro,” but is it “scuzzy”? There's nothing about the music itself that is “dirty, grimy, sordid, or repulsive; disgusting.” And as for subject matter, an open-minded listener shouldn't be “repulsed” or “disgusted” by Go Fight's celebration of all things sexual (especially if he gets past song titles like “Pussygrinder,” “Sex Theology,” and “Fuck Like a Movie Star”).

I suppose that, topically, Go Fight songs can be “sordid” insofar as highly sexual beings can be “meanly selfish, self-seeking, or mercenary.” I mean, they're “mean,” but only to partners who can't emotionally handle “self-seeking, mercenary” sex. (Of course, they had no problem with it physically; they just bitch about it afterwards.) And yes, sex-without-the-waiting can sometimes involve “dirt” and/or “grime.” So electroscuzz it is!

Another genre/descriptive could be “electro-industrial,” which struck me as apropos when viewing KMFDM's Wikipedia page. But go there, and risk getting thrown for a Wiki-loop. Go Fight is unquestionably “electronic” with a few “industrial” accents, but Wikipedia gets you to wondering: Does the band also belong to electro-industrial's progeny? For example, is Go Fight also “dark electro”? (Probably not, no elements of horror.) Is Go Fight “aggro-tech” too? (Also unlikely, no lyrical pessimism, nary a harsh or overly synthetic vocal.)

But within its cohesive catalog, Go Fight displays a musical range to rival the delightfully explicit lyrics of “Fuck Like a Movie Star.” Use Spotify to fire up the first 30 seconds of “Light of Day” and “All God Now”: the former is a symphony of moving vocal parts; the latter boasts a percussive rhythm section laced with flashes of melody (which is a feat that still distinguishes Skrillex from his drop-heavy peers). With an audience as sexy as its music, Go Fight is one of Chicago's few live acts that can single-handedly define a genre.

*** The author of this review, Gary Allen, plays the repicador for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Saturday, March 14, 2015

Artist: Frances Luke Accord

Links: https://www.facebook.com/franceslukeaccord

http://franceslukeaccordkandote.bandcamp.com/

Frances Luke Accord is not just a musician. It's actually two. And they share obvious similarities with Paul Simon. Like their father in folk, the Chicago duo spent time in Africa, recording with a Ugandan children's choir. And like that other duo, Frances Luke Accord's are quiet landscapes painted with gorgeous string tones and gentle harmonies. [FLA also does a mean “Boxer” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-2xZ2FW3e8k); and provided you've grown accustomed to CTA acoustics, their “Sounds of Silence” is worth checking out (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rkSCjlQnuHQ).] But Frances Luke Accord aren't constrained by the Simon & Garfunkel mold – their debut LP, Kandote, is living proof of that – anyway, Simon broke that one long ago.

But if their newest single is any indication, their next EP, Queen for Me, will impress even beyond their promising debut. To the extent there was any room for improvement on Kandote, it was that Frances Luke Accord were selfless to a fault, in that they shared the spotlight with others. Kandote's “Amaholo” is a good example. Though it was truly fascinating, combining world music chants with choir backing, there was none of the characteristic vocal/guitar interplay that distinguishes Frances Luke Accord.

“Over Your Roof” on the other hand (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sV4wRoTPRkE) hints at an EP that fans of the duo's live show likely hoped for. The lead single is two-and-a-half minutes of melodically memorable harmonies, intricate interactions of lovely string instruments, and yes, humming and whistling. An EP full of FLA soundscapes would mean not only rewarding headphone listens, but also spot-on live renderings. And that is the Frances Luke Accord we know and love. Live. (No choir required.)

*** The author of this review, Jason Walker, plays the buleador for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8