mVault

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

Artist: Emily Jane Powers

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

http://emilyjanepowers.bandcamp.com/

Stumbling upon the recorded output of Emily Jane Powers made my day. The expansive six LP collection, including one as Introductions (with Jasen Reeder, who's on other recordings as well), ranges from homespun sing-song recalling Liz Phair and Best Coast to the minimalist folk rock of a Cat Power. [Usually the Phairian hints are vocal in nature, but Apple Blossom's “Wayne County” recalls Liz's “Shatter” for their deep sonic backdrops.] There's also glimpses of Wall of Sound-era girl group (“Undertone”), as well as a vocal twang not often heard outside of country. But something in the calming vocal layers of Undertones' “Beatrice” brings to mind the gifted nature-folkie Laura Veirs.

The standout is Undertones' “Amelia and I.” As the two-minute ray of sunshine bounces merrily along [on second thought, a two-minute sunbeam could be more painful than pleasant], the speedy vocal phrasing ending in girlish squeals sounds right at home among the current crop of indie-but-really-pop darlings, Haim or Chairlift. Nearly as good on Undertones is “Give it Up,” with its angelic introductory harmonies (at :13); sophisticated, bass-driven pre-chorus (1:20); well-placed drum fills worthy of the accompanying pop vocals (1:37); and homey soft rock bridge built on descending guitar and bass (at 1:49). It's the little things like these that make all the difference between mere singer-songwriters and the pop pantheon [typified by the Beatles' “She Loves You”].

As for Saltwater, with gentle strumming, a charismatic vocal performance, and the crackling recording, bringing to mind front-porch picking in the summer haze, “Get Cool” gently beseeches a summer love to play hooky and cool off either by swimming in the lake or lying in bed (sans clothing, apparently). Another notable track on Saltwater is “What You Want,” which showcases a lyrical hook – “If it's what you want, it's what you want, it's what you want / Then I guess that's what you'll get” – with bells (1:02), strings (1:50), and fiddle (2:11), additional vocal tracks supplying dimension both on their own (2:37) and in backing (1:03 and 1:50).

Other fine particularities include the ascending harmonies (:38), warbling background vocals (1:01), and intriguing instrumentation (:42) of Artifacts' “Codes”; the harmony/tambourine mini-hooks (e.g. :26) of Artifacts' “All the Good You'd Ever Want”; and the atmospheric melodies and vocal blends (2:27) of Apple Blossom's “We've All Got Your Back.”

I suppose there are occasional mixing issues, where a vocal and/or instrumental track out-volumes the others (brief moments of Saltwater's “What You Want” and Apple Blossom's “What Makes You”). But given this is the worst that can be said of an astonishingly accomplished assortment by an artist previously unknown to me, over six LPs no less, that's quite the compliment. So Emily Jane Powers, please proceed. We're listening.

*** The author of this review, Ronald Clark, plays the bamboula for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: The Cosmos Kids

Links: https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Cosmos-Kids/203472103045620

http://thecosmoskids.bandcamp.com/album/volume-ii

The Cosmos Kids were duly adulated for their promising debut, Volume One. Indeed, the Cosmos Kids tipped their hand at greatness with “Saying Goodbye,” “Been So Long,” and to a lesser extent “Desert Song” and “Ally in the Sky Part Two.”

Their sophomore effort, Volume II, pushes past the indulgences of the original, leaving its instrumental middle section at the side of the road – seizing, spastic, spasmodic. The Cosmos Kids apparently discovered that building the perfect psychedelic garage is a functional pursuit. Namely, if support columns (jam sessions) don't reach the ceiling (add to the song), then knock those fuckers down.

On their Facebook page, the Cosmos Kids list diverse influences that include “The Entire Nuggets Compilation” (which I'll presume includes songs from the 1998 CD reissue). Nuggets: Original Artyfacts from the First Psychedelic Era, the compilation of American garage rock singles that were released in the mid-to-late 1960s, can be broken down into knockoffs and originals. As for the imitators, we get obvious knockoffs of the Beatles (“One Track Mind” by The Knickerbockers), the Rolling Stones (“Don't Look Back” by Barry & the Remains), and the Beach Boys (“My World Fell Down” by Sagittarius), in addition to Ray Charles (Sir Douglas Quintet's “She's About a Mover”) and the Kinks (bitten by the Kinks themselves via The Rationals' cover of “I Need You” aka “All Day and All of the Night”).

But then there are Nuggets tracks that aren't inspired by commercially successful output. Had the Cosmos Kids been born in that age – and who said they weren't (time travelers, all of them!) – they'd fit nicely into this camp. Theirs is a down-tempo woozy feel with vocals conveying a dreariness balanced by surfy reverb. [Comparing it to the Nuggets, the Cosmos Kids' kinfolk are “I'm Gonna Make You Mine” (The Shadows of Knight) and “Can't Seem to Make You Mine” (The Seeds).]

The song-writer(s) for the Cosmos Kids (and related projects) are among the best in Chicago. Their considerable faculty with hooks is on full display here with Volume Two – check :33 of “26 and 24” and :33 then :44 of “Our Love.” “And We Sing” is perhaps the best example of how the Cosmos Kids operate. A rarity in popular music, the song starts with a catchy melody driving the song: on bass. Then woozy vocal leads jockey for position: in rounds. The “la la la” pre-chorus sets up yet another memorable hook (at :52). Better yet, the standout track, “Come Back Home,” doesn't have any transcendent moments, because you can't rise above perfection. (If I had to choose though, notable moments are the guitar accents, e.g. at :14). Even the instrumental, “Eclipsing,” is effective relative to those on Volume One. The difference? The Cosmos Kids opt for atmospheric flourish over repetition (Volume One's “LongTimes”) and high-volume lead guitar-work (“Cosmos”).

Not unlike the contemporary master of the throwback, Ariel Pink, the Cosmos Kids sound like drug music written by people not on drugs. As it turns out, Pink Floyd would approve (http://www.cracked.com/article_20633_5-pleasant-surprises-about-famous-people-you-had-all-wrong.html).

*** The author of this review, Kenneth Martin, plays the assotor for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Bitter Valentines

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

BitterValentines.com

So what makes Bitter Valentines so special? I asked myself that question a number of times over the course of my three-show stint in New York City (Trash Bar, Don Pedro, and Freddy's). Could it be that, despite them rocking Brooklyn venues, the quartet hails from Queens, the NYC borough deemed the "most ethnically diverse urban area in the United States"? (Per Wikipedia, 48% of Queens' 2.2 million inhabitants were born outside the US.)

Perhaps that has something to do with it. After all, what would BV be without the propulsive drumming of Taka (Asian descent) or the powerful punk rock vocal of Der (Spanish/Cuban descent)? But there's tons of bands in Queens' melting pot; so that alone can't account for BV's unique brand of melodic hard/punk rock. More likely, BV's success can be attributed to the fact they know what they're good at: writing catchy songs showcasing Der's singular vocal, built on a locked-in rhythm section (Matt/Taka) and accented by appropriate guitar flourishes (Rob/Der).

First, Der's voice. Two facts: Singers in protest punk emerge if they're credible; Many have accents. Taken together, I'll make the logical leap that, when there's an accent, audiences are more likely to believe these frontmen are singing about struggles existing outside the American dream. It's the reason Blink 182 can sing about Attention Deficit Disorder, but not war. By contrast, Flogging Molly's Irish vocalist could sing about political turbulence in general, and we'd instantly presume he's singing about the Provisional IRA in particular.

Now combine Der's vocal power and credibility with BV's catchy song-writing, and we get memorable vocal hooks like: "Unify" (which was just as cool when I thought it was, "You defy"); "Get up, it’s time to fight" (on "To the Sun"); "It’s just another fucking lie" ("Freedom to Comply"). Case in point: Having a singer with an accent lament America's National Defense Authorization Act and the Patriot Act gets us thinking that, even in this post-9/11 world, there might be valid complaints in the area of recently diminished rights to privacy and due process. So we're nodding our heads when Der prefaces the howl of "It's just another fucking lie" with "Our democracy is a joke / ‘Cause we vote for freedom / 'Cause we vote for freedom, yeah / ‘Cause we vote for freedom to comply." But often, the songs' power will also emanate from instrumental cut-outs that supply Der with space to sneer. Behold 1:04 of "Yesterday," which spotlights Der's vocal through the use of choppy guitar chords and pulsing drums and bass.

Bitter Valentines bring to bear punk rock's loaded arsenal. Fire up the intros to "Facing Angels" and "Freedom to Comply," and note the snaky riffs, prominent bass, and rhythm section interplay, that channel the garage punk of Murder City Devils. Check the pop punk of "Feed Me Cyanide," recalling the radio-friendly hits of Cheap Trick. (Just try to forget that hook: "But I forgot to mention / I could use your love tonight / Got nothing, nowhere to go / So baby feed me cyanide.")

As a fan, I was pissed "She" and "Closing Doors" weren't included. (Word has it they will be included on forthcoming product, e.g. an LP.) But for those punk devotees not yet schooled in the ways of Bitter Valentines, this EP serves as the perfect introduction: Der is the singer to hear before you die; and BV is the band you'll listen to on the way there.

*** The author of this review, Mark Jackson, plays the apinti for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Bare Knuckle Conflict

Link: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Bare-Knuckle-Conflict/143412369057672

Imperium is an all-consuming barrage of snarling guitars (Dustin Tinnon/Kevin Bowen), slamming rhythm section (Jimmy Pourdas/Andrew Crain), and Josh Whitt's sinister scowls from (and for) the pits of hell.

But the carnage that is Bare Knuckle Conflict barely cloaks their origins in groove metal alongside Machine Head and, to a lesser extent, Pantera. It's everything we love about thrash metal, slowed down to the mid-tempo. Like "Darkness Within" and "Cemetary Gates" of their aforementioned ancestors, Bare Knuckle Conflict will often introduce extended melodic sections -- as they do with "Authority Figure," "Memory Lapse" and "Hardpill" -- before going postal. And even when the melody is not carried by the vocal, we still get glimpses of it with mood-setting arpeggios and guitar patterns that help to darken the landscape (as on "Bloody Knuckles," "Authority Figure" and "Mankind").

Add to that list, "Black Eye," a standout on Imperium. It's the exemplar of Bare Knuckle Conflict's many strengths. After the clean/dark pattern of introductory notes, we get chunky chords separated by distorted guitar riffs. And it's joined by Whitt's finest vocal performance on the album: it's as excellent as it is raw, harsh and, most importantly, fast. This is the speed suitable for Whitt's considerable metal chops. He not only doubles the riff; he fits a rhythmically-perfect lyric into the machine gun interplay that is the locked-and-loaded rhythm section with guitar. And just before the vocal: the drums, which single-handedly carry the song from melodic opening, to the down-and-dirty sludge we've come to expect by this, the tenth song.

Like Machine Head before it, Bare Knuckle Conflict adds further definition to the amorphous genre that is groove metal. (I say "definition," because "refinement" doesn't belong within a hundred feet of this heaviness.)

*** The author of this review, Thomas Taylor, plays the xylophone for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Amateur Hour

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

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

Here we get to hear demo versions of songs Amateur Hour will be entering the studio with. Rest assured, when I go buy the finished product, it will include "Cesspool" or someone will get an earful from me. The track showcases everything that makes Amateur Hour great. Specifically, Amateur Hour is resplendent with two female leads that, at Amateur Hour's best, are perfectly complemented by moody guitar that both matches their emotive vocals and builds choruses that dial up the feeling. Case in point, on "Cesspool," Amateur Hour uses distorted acoustic guitar chords to set up a narrator/character's plaintive entreaty, "the baby's cradle wasn't made to be so cruel."

There is another side of Amateur Hour -- snaky Santana riffs, Latin-tinged bongo drums, and dare-I-say Spanish lyrics -- and it's no less praise-worthy. But it is less distinctive. Other bands could match it. But those same bands couldn't top the "Cesspool" vocal that haunts us as Martina Topley-Bird once did for Tricky. The vocal on "Solitario" similarly recalls Portishead, suggesting that treating the vocal on certain songs wouldn't disturb the vibe set by "Cesspool."

With the aforementioned reference points in mind, Amateur Hour might have found their road map for successfully spotlighting the female leads; and rather than it being Latin-influenced, it may be the very landscape inhabited by both Tricky and Portishead -- that is, trip hop. Regardless, Amateur Hour have smartly built their band around phenomenal females; and we simply sit back and enjoy.

*** The author of this review, Richard Miller, plays the steelpan for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: 8090

Links: https://www.facebook.com/8090jams

http://8090music.com/

The sequencing of this album is a thing of beauty. Album-opener, "Introduction," introduces a possible alternate meaning for the band's name, 8090, which ostensibly refers to the duo's roots in Oakland and Seattle. Namely, with the lyric, "born in the 80's / raised in the 90's" (80 then 90 is 8090), you're well-prepared for the hip-hop to follow. The very next track, "Talk About It," tells us all about what 8090 are, and what they're not: On this album called Work Music, the MC's make it clear they won't be bragging on Watch the Throne-level racks on racks on racks -- but rather, they'll be hating on boss on boss on boss. Bosses, plural. Not one job, but three of 'em.

This would be a mere avenue for differentiation, but 8090 dives down so deep that, by the end, we're convinced that it not only sounds good, but also sounds right. Who can't get behind: "Work with the new girl / Hate that bitch / Fresh out of school / Her shit don't stink" ("Talk About It"); "Not to the point of rolling in dough of the soulless / Just to the point we don't owe shit" ("Golden"); and "What's rainy day money / When every day's a hurricane / I might as well be Gene Kelly / And sing and dance inside it, man" ("Pay Day").

Even crime is treated with nuance, presented as "Contemplations of a Side Hustle." Only a realistically-rendered rap persona first contemplates the crime (which is "servin' improv nerds 20 dollars a blunt"), and then pursues it only "on the side" of his day job. And 8090 is as funny as they are thoughtful. Check the hilarious originality of "Work Shirt," an unapologetic ode to the narrator's Cintas-style work shirt, e.g. "My fashion statement is / I'm employed."

Another standout track is "Girl at Home," which recounts efforts to keep at bay a female supervisor who admires male hires. Try futilely explaining it to someone who isn't listening, and hope it comes out as funny as: "It's like she won't understand, I got a girl at home / I got a girl / At home / You know, come to my home / You'll see my girl's name on the mailbox / She lives at that home." Perhaps Das Racist would have left it at that, but 8090 won't leave well enough alone, adding Buffalo Bill-style weirdness with a Silence of the Lambs allusion, "She's the basket to my lotion / Only she be tellin' me she wants to get a hose in."

But "City Lights" might be the coup de grace. After a beautiful Outkast-like hook, "Oh shine those city lights / On the streets of Chi / Working overtime / Where we own the night / Oh shine those city lights," we hear a narrative ending with our ambitious, hard-working MC working several jobs including graveyard finally admitting, "What I really wanted to do was rock the microphone / But most nights I just wanted to be home."

Simply put, 8090 is us. They live how we live. And fall like there's something to lose. (Because there always is.)

*** The author of this review, Michael Jones, plays the clapsticks for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8

Artist: Hannah Thomas

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

http://www.hannahthomasband.com/music/

Carrie Underwood has been having another moment. For the last year or so, she's been a pop-cultural force, retaking the American Idol relevance both the show and she had in 2005. Whether it was replacing Faith Hill on Sunday Night Football, or updating Julie Andrews' Maria von Trapp in The Sound of Music Live!, Underwood regained pop icon status, becoming “People's Champ” via Billboard's fan-voted Milestone Award, and receiving the Academy of Country Music's Gene Weed Special Achievement Award, given to The Voice's Blake Sheltons of the world.

All of that is to say that the world is now ready for Georgia's Hannah Thomas. Check out “That's What She Said.” Hannah has that same “badass country chick” vocal phrasing as Carrie had on “Before He Cheats.” But Carrie is what you listen to if Garth Brooks did it for you; Hannah is what you're rocking after switching from Garth to the Highwaymen of Waylon & Willie, Cash & Kris. (By the way, if anyone can muscle his way onto that Mount Rushmore, it would be “Bocephus” Hank Jr. – Beam bottle in hand.) Simply put, Hannah Thomas is the rebel version of Carrie Underwood.

Like Underwood though, Hannah gladly traffics in the finest of country music traditions. This is primarily heard in Hannah's fierceness, which has ruled the country airwaves since Reba McEntire. But Hannah also displays two additional attributes, in just one song (“Watch Out for the Deer”). The first is rapid-fire vocal delivery, which has entertained us on such hits as Clint Black's “Tuckered Out,” Sawyer Brown's “The Race is On,” Patty Loveless' “I Try to Think About Elvis,” and to a lesser extent on Alan Jackson's “I Don't Even Know Your Name” and Collin Raye's cover of Johnny Cash's “Big River.” The other of country music's standout signifiers is a winning mixture of country partying with a flash of humor. Hannah is “sippin' on a Bud in a pickup truck” and singing Hank lyrics with the radio up [country party]; but while all-comers are welcome to the party, all-goers should definitely watch out for the deer on the way home [humor]. In this regard, Hannah's “Deer” is the latest in a long line of country hits like Chris LeDoux's “Cadillac Ranch,” Tracy Byrd's “Watermelon Crawl,” Alan Jackson's “Chattahoochee,” and Hal Ketchum's “Small Town Saturday Night.”

Even as Carrie Underwood tasks her songwriting teams with going platinum by keeping it universal (keying cheaters' cars), Hannah is staying true to her Georgia roots. We all could use a bit of that right now.

*** The author of this review, James Smith, plays the agung a tamlang for the following band: http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8