First Half Surprises/Second Half Hopefuls (2011)

Revisiting the spirit of our Most Anticipated List back in January, Matt and I decided to have a look back at the year it’s been for music as well as what’s to look forward to for the rest of 2011.

First Half Surprises

Matt:
In our Most Anticipated Post that we did in January, Mike and I had five bands each that we spotlighted as usboth looking forward to. Of those five, three artists have already released new material. Two of them I am putting in a tentative top five of the year: Manchester Orchestra’s Simple Math and Death Cab for Cutie’s Codes & Keys. Both showed the growth of their respective band’s discography as each are at new points in their career. Simple Math takes a few listens to really sink in, but when it does it grabs a hold and doesn’t let go. And while DCFC’s Plans is one of my favorite albums of all time, Narrow Stairs just didn’t grab me in that same way. But the soft tones and simple yet sophisticated lyrics of Codes & Keys have made it one of my most played albums of the year.

The third one in the above of category was the self-titled release from Taking Back Sunday. Admittedly, these guys are one of my top two favorite artists so any music from them I am going to like. And I gravitated toward this release instantly, but noticed something when I finally took it out of my car - I never put it back in. Don’t get me wrong, if I hit play I still enjoy most of the tracks, but it’s missing that “I have to listen to this all the time” element. Two other bands that sort of had the same “We’ve been gone for a while/had lineup changes” sort of story was Panic! At The Disco and Yellowcard. Both came out with albums in the spring and both did their job. They weren’t great – but they were satisfying and showed that both may be back on track.

As stated earlier, with all the attention on the heavy hitters returning this year (Foo Fighters, Radiohead - both with good releases in their own rights) there was room for some newcomers to step up and provide a spark. In my opinion, Foster the People answered that call. When they debuted with “Pumped Up Kicks,” the band hadn’t even recorded other tracks for an album. But when Torches was released, there were more than just “those guys that kind of sound like MGMT.” Foster the People could end up being the best new artist of the year. Other surprises for me this year included how much I liked the Sublime With Rome album and gravitating to Sum 41’s Screaming Bloody Murder after hearing “Jessica Kill.”

Honorable Mentions: The Childish Gambino E.P. from “Community” star Donald Glover; Suburbia I’ve Given You All & Now I’m Nothing from The Wonder Years (thanks Liz); the overall album quality of Bayside’s Killing Time and some new artists (for me) I’m still getting into including Givers, Company Of Thieves and Cults. Oh yeah, I don’t think Adele’s 21 is the greatest album of the year, but singing along to “Rolling in the Deep” might be one of the funnest things to do.

Mike:
Records that surprise you have a way of sticking around. It’s not necessarily that they’re undiscovered gems, it’s more that they call your musical taste into question. Those albums force you to evaluate the way you explore new music, leading to some fascinating results. 2011 has been full of those types of releases and they’ve kept the year interesting amidst hyped LPs and critical darlings. Alkaline Trio’s Damnesia (4/5) is one such record that comes to mind; the Trio compile some of their most well known hits in a semi-unplugged format. It works because this stripped down approach displays just how tight Matt Skiba and Dan Adriano’s songwriting is, while their warm acoustic jangle grants these tracks a sing-a-long buoyancy that’ll please old and new fans alike. Speaking of older groups, it’s hard to argue that The Beastie Boys’ Hot Sauce Committee Part Two (5/5) is anything less than extraordinary. While they’re pushing 40, the Beasties came back with their fuzziest, synthi-est, and most urgent sounding album in years. Mike D, Ad Rock and MCA are still class clowns, but their musical elasticity is undeniably flawless.

Older bands aside, however, the one release that’s really made a lot of waves this past year is Foster The People’s Torches (3/5), a record I originally wrote off completely. Falling in-between classic MGMT and skittery 90’s dance, Torches has to grow on you despite its radio-ready aspirations. “Pumped Up Kicks” has been puffed up to death, but the real stars are songs like “Helena Beat” with its zippy, synth pop pulse and trapdoor drums. If Foster The People figures out how to add some substance behind their pristine sound, they might be in for a great career. Of course, keeping that fire alive is tough to do, something Incubus learned the hard way on If Not Now, When? (2.5/5). Resting within the calmer, keyboard/acoustic driven portion of the group’s sound, If Not Now… comes across as sedate rather than exploratory. While there are some breathtaking moments (The album’s blooming opener, the finger picked harmonics of “Tomorrow’s Food”) they sparkle briefly on a record that’s far too subdued.

Yet when it all comes down to it, the biggest surprise

for me this year was Yuck’s 90’s flavored self-titled record (4/5), an album that revels in masterful construction and rich sentimentality. Yuck runs the gambit of crunchy and crashy to calm and collected, never feeling overmatched with either. The album’s crown jewel is the drifting, open-picked “Stutter,” a sweet love song that examines why we fall in love and the comfort that comes with it. And much like Yuck’s composition, that’s the reason music fans love to be surprised, for such surprises put our musical adventures into a comforting perspective.

Second Half Hopefuls

Matt:

Going back to the five artists Mike and I collaboratively highlighted, there were two that have yet to show up, though blink-182 did announce a release date (Sep 27) for Neighborhoods and also debuted a new single, “Up All Night.” It’s nice to have something to look forward to - unlike Dr. Dre, the last artist in our collaborative five. It hasn’t just been pushed back for months, it’s been pushed back for years but for some reason 2011 looked to have been the magical year. Still it seems not to be and I have to be honest - the longer it takes for Detox the less interest I have in hearing it.

Another band toying with my emotions is Coldplay. They released a three-pack of singles (my favorite being “Major Minus”) but have still not given a release date to when we can expect the fifth album. But at least we know we are getting it sometime, unlike No Doubt whose new album may not arrive until 2012, which may be good due to the fact that this year has been so packed.

Here is what I’m still looking forward to:

Jay Z/Kanye West (a.k.a. The Throne)- Watch The Throne (Aug 9): This dynamic duo has released “H.A.M.” and “Otis” to mixed reviews for both. Doesn’t do anything to lessen the hype for what should be one of the greatest hip-hop albums of the year.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers- I’m With You (Aug 26): “The Adventures Of Rain Dance Maggie” is honestly a better single than I was anticipating and sheds all doubt about these guys still being able to get it done.

Sleeper Agent- Celebrasion (Sep 27): I’m a huge fan of their song “Get it Daddy” and am really looking forward to what this band can do with a whole album. Kind of hoping they turn into the second half’s Foster The People.

Jack’s Mannequin- People & Things (Oct 4): I have to be honest, I didn’t really care for “My Racing Thoughts” the first time I heard it, but it grew on me like I knew it would. Regardless of how good a single is, a new album from Andrew McMahon is always something to look forward to.

Honorable Mention:
Patrick Stump - Soul Punk (Oct 18)
Gym Class Heroes - Papercut Chronicles Part 2 (Fall/Winter)
Lil Wayne - The Carter IV (TBD)

Mike:

Though Matt and I outlined what we were anticipating earlier in the year, there are some releases I’d like to continue to highlight as well as some additional heavy hitters due up in the next 5 months:

blink-182- Neighborhoods (Sep 27): If lead single “Up All Night” is any indication of what to expect from Neighborhoods, then we should expect some great things. It includes everything we love about Tom, Mark, and Travis: Anthemic dual vocals, grinding riffs, and relentless drumming. 6 plus years seems like it was worth the wait. More please.

Jay-Z/Kanye West (a.k.a. The Throne)- Watch The Throne (Aug 9): Lead single “Otis” is oh-so-soulful, complete with a stutter-stop Otis Redding sample alongside Jay-Z and Kanye’s contagious chemistry. While it’s miles apart from the pseudo shock-rap of “H.A.M.” Watch The Throne seems to be aiming for high heights, which is all anyone would expect from Jay and Ye.

Saves The Day- Daybreak (Sept 13): It’s been 4 years since Chris Conley has given us anything new to sink our ear into. Thankfully, that dry spell comes to an end with Daybreak. Backed by an entirely new band, Conley is looking to conclude the trilogy he began in 2006 with songs like the power-pop punch of “1984” and the album’s multi-suite title track. Conley’s ambition seems big, let’s see if he executes.

Sainthood Reps- Monoculture (Aug 9): Derrick Sherman might be the touring guitarist for Brand New, but he’s got something to say, and he’ll say it alongside his band mates in Sainthood Reps. The album’s title track is a heaving, menacing love child between In Utero-era Nirvana and Alice In Chains. With minimal hype and solid singles, Monoculture might just be this year’s sleeper hit.

St. Vincent- Strange Mercy (Sept 13): Annie Clark’s music always strikes an interesting chord. One part Walt Disney grandeur, two parts morbid dread, St. Vincent’s sound is predicated on this fragile dichotomy. Strange Mercy is shaping up well though; the lead single “Surgeon” teases fans with Clark’s signature slinky voice, wrapped in hypnotic beats and swirling keyboards. Annie, have mercy and drop the darn thing already.

Honorable Mention:
The Horrible Crows- Elsie (Sept 6)
Jack’s Mannequin- People & Things (Oct 4)
Thrice- Major/Minor (Sept 19)

So what are YOUR past/future favorites of 2011? Let us know in the replies!

Tally Hall- Good & Evil (***½)

Timing is everything.

In Tally Hall’s case, timing meant delays. The multicolored tie-clad five-piece dropped the carnival pop bombshell Marvin’s Marvelous Mechanical Museum in 2005, remixed/recorded it for Atlantic records in 2008, and toured endlessly through the end of the decade. As such, they had to work sporadically on their follow up, Good & Evil, a record that arrives a full six years after their cult-like break out.

Talk about timing, that’s more like bad luck for their eager fans.

But despite the delays, Tally Hall have crafted bold follow-up with Good & Evil, a record that presents the band’s growth as well as their detailed song craft. Though more subdued (and less eclectic) than their debut, Good & Evil operates as a consistent pop record, one with clearly a defined mood that exhibits acoustic folk, shimmering keyboards, and sincere lyrics.

Things start out big: “Never Meant To Know” builds from acoustic strums to flittering synthesizers and shuffled drums, courtesy of Andrew Horowitz (Green Tie) and Ross Federman (Grey Tie). The accompaniment wraps around Rob Cantor’s (Yellow Tie) soft register as he delivers quaint couplets like, “Everything will fall away/To order from the disarray…” Though Tally Hall has always prided itself in its massive four-part harmonies, their musicianship has never felt so spacious and open, something that permeates throughout Good & Evil.

Yet after such a grand opener, one thing is drastically clear: The boys who once screamed about loving Potato Monkeys are mining a far different ideological nerve these days.

Much of Good & Evil is centered on the duality of extremes, the sources of conflict in our world, and what we’re willing to do for love. The Joe Hawley (Red Tie) penned “&” takes this to a literal sense over fuzzy bass work from Zubin Sedghi (Blue Tie) and shambling percussion, singing, “Stop & Go &/Hot & Cold &/John & Yoko/Dark & Light…” Elsewhere, the folky stomp and lilting keyboards of “The Trap” examines the elements that obscure our personal boundaries, “Whispered leaves on swaying trees and/Mysteries define/Summer nights of endless light/Remind us of the line that's/Yours & Mine…”

While this newfound lyrical cohesion really gives a voice to Good & Evil (and to the group’s overall songwriting), it does so by sacrificing Tally Hall’s famously whimsical sense of humor. Though producer Tony Hoffer helps glean warm clarity from the group’s instruments, he also doesn’t encourage them to push the zany heights they exhibited on Marvin’s. The music here comes across as expertly performed, but without the explosive rush and genre twisting that punctuated the group’s previous effort. A few more pinball machine freak-outs (“Turn The Lights Off”) and less by-the-numbers bubblegum pop (“Sacred Beast”) would have done wonders for the LP’s overall energy and momentum. Sadly, Good & Evil feels too comfortable (or at the very least, overworked) from a group that always seemed sonically elastic.

Yet when the album hits, it hits hard, and it’s on the more ornate tracks that the band’s magic really shines through. “Hymn For A Scarecrow” revels in a sleepy summer sway, complete with sweeping strings, syrupy psychedelic guitar, and sky-high whistles. Elsewhere, the album’s multi-movement closer “Fate Of The Stars” nicks the melody from Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata,” dressing it up with glitchy electronics, orbital harmonies, and Horowitz’s crystal clear ivories. Though multi-segmented songs are nothing new to Tally Hall, “Fate Of The Stars” reaches dizzying heights that some of their earlier work only hinted at, an impressive feat of growth for a second album.

Still, while Good & Evil is an easy record to appreciate, it’s a hard one to love.

Tally Hall’s experimentation leads them to some wonderful new sonic avenues, but Good & Evil seems labored. The group’s ability to dazzle listeners with simple transitions between big genre shifts has been eschewed for a more anchored sound. That ultimately takes a lot of energy out of the album, and out of the band’s performance.

Actually, Tally Hall’s old effervescence crops up only once on Good & Evil, on the expertly crafted “Misery Fell,” which features a thumping bass line, dipping and diving melodies, and some George Harrison-style lead guitar to boot. It’s the one time that the band feels unencumbered by expectations, even if they’re lamenting about heady concepts like faith vs. reason. When Cantor and Sedghi’s earnest voices break through the group’s quirky groove to deliver lines like, “The bad guys surrender their chemistry books at the fair/Oh well/Then frolic and take in the love that persists everywhere…” it works because there’s a looseness to it, a moment that feels earned rather than planned.

From its gestation period to its running time, Tally Hall’s second record was shaped by the idea of WHEN: When it peaks, and when it ends. It dictates the record’s energy, its construction, and how fans will ultimately react to it. In the end, timing defines Good & Evil more than anything else, which can be good or bad depending on when you started listening to Tally Hall.

The bigger question, however, is WHEN you’ll give this album a try.

Key Cuts: Never Meant To Know, Hymn For A Scarecrow, Misery Fell

Sounds Like: Abbey Road (The Beatles), The Broken String (Bishop Allen), A Night At The Opera (Queen)

Click on the artwork to sample Good & Evil for yourself!

Looking Back At June

Here are some records I've been mulling over this past month. Some have been out for a while but I felt like they needed a few more listens for me to digest them fully.

City & Colour- Little Hell (***½)

It was only a matter of time before Dallas Green pushed City & Colour’s somber sound past its acoustic leanings and into something new. Little Hell chronicles that process, an 11 song LP that effectively splits the difference between Green’s familiar, stripped down aesthetic and his new love of electric haze. Though Green's familiar fragile vocals are intact, like on the album’s slow-motion opener “We Found Each Other In The Dark,” they're now supplemented with swooning slide guitars and fuller drum kits. “Hope For Now” sports waves of swelling keys and crawling overdrive while “Natural Disaster’s” wistful Americana touches display an artist that’s growing gracefully rather than impatiently. In fact, such flourishes display a musician that exercises and values restraint above all else. The meatier tones Green implements on Little Hell serve to add texture rather than dissonance, but ultimately, the album’s more rewarding songs are the more basic, subdued offerings. From the naked acoustic fumble of “Northern Wind” it’s clear that Green is at his most inviting when unplugged. While Little Hell offers up some interesting sonic detours, it’s clear which road leads Dallas Green home again: The organic one.

Key Cuts: We Found Each Other In The Dark, Northern Wind, Hope For Now

In Flames- Sounds Of A Playground Fading (****)

By now it’s clear that In Flames are no longer catering to the metal fans anxious for a return to the group’s so-called “classic” sound. Thank goodness. Sounds Of A Playground Fading fearlessly takes the group’s unique brand of melodic death metal into more anthemic and experimental territory. The album’s most striking quality is its sense of balance as guitarist Björn Gelotte and singer Anders Fridén twist the group’s melodic sensibilities around guttural crunch and spacious production. For every relentless, dual guitar fire-fight like “Deliver Us” or “All Of This,” there is an equally engaging mood piece, like the blues inflected “The Attic” or the pseudo-industrial “Jester’s Door.” While this means more of Fridén’s clean vocals than his harrowing rasp, it also allows for greater sonic diversity. The album’s title track starts with shimmering acoustic tension before bursting into angular thrash, while the fuzzed out staccato of “Where The Dead Ships Dwell” is complimented by buzzing synthesizers and soaring vocals. Much like Metallica’s Load, Sounds Of A Playground Fading concerns itself with atmosphere and weight rather than by-the-numbers aggression. What results is an album that might not be immediately easy to categorize, but ultimately comes across as a more rewarding listen.

Key Cuts: Sounds Of A Playground Fading, Where The Dead Ships Dwell, The Attic

Thurston Moore-Demolished Thoughts (***½)

Sonic Youth’s music has always suffered because the band couldn’t decide if they wanted to be underground overlords or stadium art rock heroes. That tension always forced them to compromise dynamics, which in turn caused their songs to meander. Going solo, Thurston Moore is able to escape those pitfalls with the agency and luxury to craft music without such compromises. In fact, Demolished Thoughts comes across as the freshest set of songs Moore’s ever had a hand in creating. Its beauty lies in its simplicity: Demolished Thoughts hangs its hat on spindling acoustic melodies, soft keyboard accents, and sparse bass work, all with just enough reverb to take the place of percussion. It’s a soothing record, and songs like the chamber pop buoyancy of “Benediction” display Moore’s gift for creating sonic intimacy without playing to schmaltzy clichés. Far from a lo-fi recording, producer Beck Hansen adds small studio embellishments throughout Moore’s gentle musical odyssey, whether it’s in adding sloping strings to the pillowy pluck of “Illuminine” or creeping bass to the twitchy twang of “Blood Never Lies.” Yet throughout, Moore and Beck keep things dry and airy. The aesthetic does wonders for record’s overall mood, especially on songs like the wobbly “Space.” Yet in the end, what really makes Demolished Thoughts special is Moore’s voice, which for once, feels free and unencumbered by his surroundings.

Key Cuts: Benediction, Illuminine, Space

The Vines- Future Primitive (***)

To their credit, The Vines are still making sleazy, fist pumping rock & roll, in spite of fickle music critics and Craig Nicholls’ battle with Asperger’s Syndrome. What’s even more remarkable is how they’ve stuck to their guns to do it, well after they’ve lost the bid for the garage rock crown. Future Primitive doesn’t reinvent The Vines’ sonic template (Blend equal parts Nirvana and Kinks worship on HIGH), but it is comforting in the fact that fans know what to expect, and if anything, The Vines are at their best operating in such extremes. The album’s lead single “Gimme Love” provides the snarl with rusty, rubber band guitar work and Nicholls’ nasally bravado while the syrupy harmonies and acoustic strum of “Leave Me In The Dark” offers the sentimentality. So it goes for 13 tracks, alternating between the only two gears The Vines have at their disposal. Without a doubt, Future Primitive caters to the group’s hardcore fan base, one who’s more impressed by their sound than their substance (How many times can you rhyme “Crazy” with “Baby?”); nevertheless, they’ve managed to hide a few surprises to differentiate it from past offerings. The proto-thrash plod of “Black Dragon” is accentuated by dive bomb guitar leads and pulverizing drumming, all to remind listeners that sometimes fun music is just about the attitude. Good thing The Vines have that in spades.

Key Cuts: Gimme Love, Leave Me In The Dark, Black Dragon

Folk The World

Here are two albums, seeped in the folk tradition, that have started 2011 off with a big, giant, musical bang.

The Decemberists- The King Is Dead (****½)
No one would have thought that The Decemberists had it in them to exercise artistic restraint. Their back catalog simply doesn’t set a precedent for it, from the ornate 8 plus minute “The Mariner’s Revenge Song” to 2009’s over-worked/cluttered concept album, The Hazards Of Love. Refreshingly, The King Is Dead strips away the group’s penchant for sonic verbosity and leaves behind warm, rootsy Americana influences in its wake. Gone are the repeated musical motifs and the complicated character studies, replaced with thistle-blown melodies, tumbling bass work, and rich acoustic guitar. Whether it’s the rolling one-two punch of “Don’t Carry It All” or the impending, accordion laced theatrics of “Rox In The Box,” the group’s newfound appreciation for immediacy serves these songs well. Unlike like The Decemberists' pervious effort, The King Is Dead grabs listeners on first spin as opposed operating like a dense, musical puzzle box. This is largely due to Colin Meloy’s richly detailed songwriting, which seems to be concerned with the passage of time. The people that embody his prose fight change (or for change), heartache, and the seasons themselves, belonging to a kind of rustic world that has all but vanished in the advent of modernity. Still, it’s the connections to those feelings and struggles that continue to live on, and Meloy is a master of drawing up the parallels. Whether that’s singing about fading love over the mournful harmonica of “June Hymn,” or his bid for forgiveness on the tenderly strummed closer “Dear Avery,” Meloy is able to wrap his concise parables with a decorative vocabulary and a real sense of humanity. In the end, The King Is Dead succeeds because Meloy decided to craft songs, rather than craft music around ideological abstractions. This results in the album being one of the brightest spots in The Decemberists’ storied discography, one that holds the old and new worlds in balance by keeping lofty ambitions in check.

Key Cuts: Don’t Carry It All, June Hymn, Dear Avery

Iron & Wine- Kiss Each Other Clean (****)
Guitarist/wordsmith Sam Beam paid his dues by daring to unplug his six string in the 2000s while everyone else around him was busy rediscovering the 80s. As his output has grown, however, Beam’s begun to add to his sound with deeper atmospheres and slicker studio embellishments. In that sense, it’s reasonable to be hesitant, mostly because Kiss Each Other Clean sounds like a sonic train wreck on paper. Combining folk, gospel, and sometimes country sensibilities with spacious, electronic flavored textures seems about as natural as a KISS disco record. Yet Beam pulls it off, mostly because his songs come across as soulful rather than sterile. From the glacial electronics and twinkling keyboards of “Walking Far From Home” to the swirling acid-gaze psychedelics of “Run Rabbit Run,” Kiss Each Other Clean revels in a fascinating sonic tug of war. It’s earthy but pristine, organic yet synthesized. At its heart though, the record is a vehicle for Beam to ponder weighty themes such as salvation, love, spirituality and death. On the bare piano pull of “Godless Brother In Love,” Beam goes so far as to caution his own country with the concerned croon of “She is money and tabs/That broken freedom in/See her big children burning rags/By the riverside…” While Kiss Each Other Clean isn’t short on ambition, its main flaw is it fails to come across as intimately as past Iron & Wine albums have. Beam’s older material hung its frailty and vulnerability on his naked guitar, and it’s difficult to find that same sense of closeness in songs like the 7 minute, sax swathed groove of “Your Fake Name Is Good Enough For Me.” Though the hooks are front and center, and Beam avoids coming across like a robotic pastor, Kiss Each Other Clean is the sound of Iron & Wine attempting to find its footing in a fluid, keyboard-driven twilight. Often stunning, though sometimes clunky, it’s a real treat from one of music’s most brazen songwriters.

Key Cuts: Walking Far From Home, Run Rabbit Run, Godless Brother In Love

Mike & Liz's Monday Mixes: Volume Five (Autumn Audio)

I'm a sucker for autumn. I know I live on the West coast where our trees aren't as colorful like the ones back East, but we still get an autumn worth celebrating. For myself and other Californians it's apparent in the air, which cuts just a bit sharper as we head inside our warm homes. It's a time where we search for comfort in the midst of change, a time where we'd like to watch the world shift from a safe, cloistered distance. It's a time for reflection, for closeness, and for marveling in what it means to feel.

In my opinion, it's the most beautiful season there is.

I'm not alone in my love for autumn either, Liz over at Dance To The Radio also shares my in wistful enthusiasm. In fact, Liz shares it so much that she suggested it as our theme for this week's set of Monday Mixes. As such, we've come up with two sets of songs to help keep you company during those shortened days.

Looking over both our mixes, acoustic arrangements played a large part in both. I think the main reason for that is because of the images those sounds conjure. There's a charm and a softness to the minimal acoustic strum, a certain sway and sparkle that sounds as old as time but as present as ever. Liz employs this with great mastery by selecting some Nick Drake and Kevin Devine, and I think listeners will find that both mixes contain some of the most relaxing numbers we've selected thus far in our Monday Mixes series.

Yet, like leaves falling, that's only one aspect of the whole.

Both of our mixes feature intimate songs, mostly because it's a season that breeds such feelings. Personally, I attempted to construct my mix around soft textures as well as the season's two biggest themes: closeness and change. I think you'll find that both Liz and I approached the season in very different ways, but with very vibrant results. Hopefully, our mixes will add a little autumn cheer into your day. Enjoy!

Still- Foo Fighters

Soul Meets Body- Death Cab For Cutie

Meadowlarks- Fleet Foxes

Divine Intervention- Taking Back Sunday

Passing Afternoon- Iron & Wine

There, There Katie- Jack's Mannequin

Waterloo Sunset- The Kinks

Come Away With Me- Norah Jones

Whatever (Folk Song In C)- Elliott Smith

The Rose March- The Smashing Pumpkins

Work- Jimmy Eat World

The Leaving Song- A.F.I.

The Ground Folds (Acoustic)- Senses Fail

Stay- Saves The Day

Ever So Sweet- The Early November

Something Vague- Bright Eyes

Luca (Reprise)- Brand New

Misguided Ghosts- Paramore

What Makes A Man?- City & Colour

Hurt- Johnny Cash

September Gurls- Big Star

One Summer Last Fall- Jets To Brazil

Every Man I Fall For- Cold War Kids

Fall- Editors

The Crane Wife 3- The Decemberists

Sea Lion Woman- Feist

Tune Out- The Format

Close To Home- The Get Up Kids

October Leaves- The Good Life

Hiding From The Sun- The Goodnight Lights

Bring Back Recess- A Great Big Pile Of Leaves

November- Azure Ray

Ballgame- Kevin Devine

Will You Love Me Forever?- Margot & The Nuclear So & So's

Mid-November- Johnathan Rice

Place To Be- Nick Drake

The View From The Afternoon- Arctic Monkeys

Mr. November- The National

Reconstruction Site- The Weakerthans

Ready For It- The Stills

...And The Kitchen Sink

It should come as no surprise that my taste is eclectic. Right?

Brandon Flowers- Flamingo (***)
If there was any doubt that Brandon Flowers is the primary creative force behind The Killers, look no further than Flamingo. The ten-track puesdo-concept album about Las Vegas (or being lonely in Las Vegas) finds Flowers cherry picking from The Killers' Bowie meets Springsteen worship, with gentler and often successful results. “Only The Young” finds guitars chiming and crying over spacious keyboards while the stutter-stop twinkle of “Hard Enough” features tender guest vocals from Rilo Kiley’s Jenny Lewis. In true Vegas fashion, Flowers’ hammy and overwrought voice makes some of the songs overstay their welcome but that’s part of Flamingo’s charm. Flowers stayed away from making a serious record, as he often attempts to with The Killers, and he made an honest record for himself, rather than his band or his label. The results seem perfect for any night drive with miles of desert ahead.

Key Cuts: Only The Young, Hard Enough, Playing With Fire

Grinderman- Grinderman 2 (****)
It’s difficult to make dangerous rock n’ roll theses days. There’s no market for it; everyone wants something slick, auto-tuned, and compressed, something that’s heavy on beats but light on grooves. So when a dirty, sleazy, and downright evil sounding record like Grinderman 2 comes along, you know there’s some guts behind that decision. Nick Cave’s savage blues project has emerged from their bourbon soaked cocoon, producing an immense record with no apologies. While the content matter is familiar Cave fair of murder, obsession, and rough sex, he finds some interesting ways to inject humor into an otherwise demonic album (“I stick my fingers in your biscuit jar…”). Yet what really stands out on Grinderman 2 is the strides Cave has taken in expanding the group’s sound. Grinderman’s first album was loud and raw, but not much else. Grinderman 2 is decidedly larger in scope, reveling in longer songs that feature clamorous waves of wailing wah and dusty drums. “Kitchenette” is a loopy, low-end boogie while “When My Baby Comes” is swathed in eerie strings before erupting in phantasmal distortion. The excess works, and Cave manages to find a way of pushing the production without stripping the songs of their grit. With Grinderman 2, Cave created an album that rivals even his darkest material with the Bad Seeds by sticking to his guns and warped fantasies.

Key Cuts: Mickey Mouse & The Goodbye Man, When My Baby Comes, Kitchenette

Linkin Park- A Thousand Suns (*½)
Rap-rock was never highbrow art, but it’s hard to dispute Linkin Park’s mastery of it. It’s the reason fans were upset when Minutes To Minute turned into Linkin Park’s answer to The Joshua Tree. Those listeners were hoping for more consistency, not experimentation, and it was a shock to the system. In theory, A Thousand Suns should be an easier pill to swallow knowing the band could drop a surprise, except it’s not. While the album covers the similar, soft textured aesthetic of its predecessor, Linkin Park flounders under the weight of the album’s pretension. Half the album is comprised of ambient, glitchy interludes that go nowhere, while its actual songs come across as parodies of Public Enemy fed through Kid A’s iPod. Oh, and then there’s “The Messenger,” the album’s acoustic closer where Chester Bennington decides to scream out of tune for about 3 minutes. While the record sounds pristine thanks to Rick Rubin and Mike Shinoda’s deft production, the band sounds confused, attempting to be vaguely political with a record that lacks urgency. In all, it showcases Linkin Park dealing with ideas and sounds that are over their heads. At least they brought the rap part back, except not really.

Key Cuts: When They Come For Me, Year Zero (Nine Inch Nails)

Terrible Things- Terrible Things (**½)
When it’s all said and done, Terrible Things are a band comprised of scrappy castaways. Vocalist/guitarist Fred Mascherino (ex-Breaking Pangea/Taking Back Sunday), guitarist Andy Jackson (ex-Hot Rod Circuit), and drummer Josh Eppard (ex-Coheed & Cambria) thought they could make better music together than with the bands that shunned them, and the results are mixed. While their self-titled debut is a fun slice of lean power-pop, Jackson and Eppard play backing band to Mascherino the entire time. The disc employs the same crunchy but slick one-two punch of Mascherino’s solo effort, Bend To Break, but with more formulaic accents this time around. Strings come and go on “Been Here Before” while guitars inevitably sparkle before they crash on “Up At Night." Some how it’s not as exciting the second time around. Mascherino’s usual charm is evident behind the microphone but it overshadows Jackson, and the stories they tell fail to leave a mark. It's clear they're desperately upset at someone, or something, but the music isn’t telling the same tale. In the end, Terrible Things is very much Bend To Break: Part Deux, which is a shame considering most of the songwriting is credited to the whole band. The good news is that it sounds rather innocuous, which is perhaps why they were dismissed from their mother bands in the first place.

Key Cuts: Up At Night, Terrible Things, Conspiracy

The Weepies- Be My Thrill (***)
Charmingly intimate and instantly accessible, The Weepies never have to push hard to create a beautiful sounding record. Be My Thrill, their fourth LP overall, finds the musical duo of Deb Talan and Steve Tannen churning out soft rock anthems that would feel right at home in a Charlie Brown holiday special. Whether it’s the shuffling hook of “Red Red Rose” or the Elliot Smith-like harmonies on “Hummingbird,” The Weepies craft immediate pop music in refreshing fashion. With subtle embellishments of brushed drums and quaint piano, the record retains a certain level of minimalism without feeling lo-fi. There are some drawbacks though; the album’s tandem vocals sport a clear winner when it comes to charisma (Talan’s meek but silky delivery proves quite the attraction), and the album isn’t as richly layered as 2008’s Hideaway, but Be My Thrill is genuinely entertaining. It’s an album reminding music fans that middle of the road records can house decent songs without being contrived or calculated. Not everything needs to be a grand statement, and it’s refreshing to hear The Weepies embody that.

Key Cuts: Red Red Rose, Add My Effort, Hummingbird

Amanda Palmer- Amanda Palmer Performs The Popular Hits Of Radiohead On Her Magical Ukulele (****)

When a musical artist sets out to perform cover songs, it’s almost always seen as an insult.

Fans complain that it’s a sign of absent inspiration, that “real” musicians should be in command of their creative faculties at all times. To heck with the music we know, we want something new! Something exciting! Additionally, fans that appreciated the band being covered feel a sense of resentment towards this newfound interpretation. It’s as if someone took a painting that was perfectly fine, and needlessly added a group of dogs playing poker in the corner.

We all like dogs playing poker, but maybe not on the Mona Lisa.

Yet the ever-daring Amanda Palmer accepts the gauntlet thrown before her with a new and aptly titled E.P., Amanda Palmer Performs The Popular Hits Of Radiohead On Her Magical Ukulele. Drawing inspiration from the 40s and 50s, a time where half a long player record would consist of cover songs anyway, Palmer humbly approaches some of Radiohead’s most daring work with the precious pluck and charm of her ukulele. The results eschew some of Palmer’s more brazen theatricality, but ultimately pay careful homage to a band that’s clearly near and dear to her heart.

Popular Hits… begins with a quaint and miniature strum to introduce “Fake Plastic Trees,” a striking contrast against Palmer’s velvety voice. Yet what’s immediately apparent about Palmer’s version is how sparse the arrangement is compared to the 1995 original off The Bends. While other songs in the collection make use of playful musical embellishments, “Fake Plastic Trees” sets a strong tone of “less-is-more,” a daring choice that keeps her covers from coming off as pretentious and indulgent. For a sloppier musician, this sort of bare instrumentation could hinder one’s ability to enjoy these versions on their own terms. Thankfully, Palmer's full voice is as charismatic as she is. She understands how to carefully craft musical tension by coaxing the sweetness out of their morose and self-depricating trappings.

This quality makes Popular Hits… into a far more engaging listen than it might have been had Palmer given these songs the full electric treatment.

Throughout the E.P., Palmer allows this sense of minimalism to bring out the frailty in Radiohead’s songs, even when the originals would have descended into layered soundscapes. Soft piano splashes add resonance to “High & Dry,” while her swelling keys and music box flourishes add weightlessness to “No Surprises.” What’s refreshing is that for as big a personality as Palmer has behind the microphone, she keeps it in check on Popular Hits... Instead, she operates with an almost effortless amount of restraint, which is important considering it’s what the songs call for.

By and large, the Popular Hits’… standout has to be her twitchy take on “Idioteque.” Armed with a jumpy ukulele rhythm, scattered percussion, and sugary harmonies, Palmer keeps her acoustic version as tense as its electronic laced counterpart, which is no easy feat. Where Thom Yorke & Co. had a full laptop of skittering beats to work with, Palmer captures the same kind of restlessness with about half as many layers, further displaying her skills as a composer.

Yet given how well these Radiohead songs translated under Palmer’s control, there are some places where the punk cabaret pioneer could have avoided a misstep or two.

One version of “Creep” would have sufficed, the stronger of the two being the version recorded at a sound check in Berlin. This is partially because we’ve all heard her cover “Creep” in various states of intoxication, and this version’s lack of crowd noise adds to the song’s overall feeling of isolation. It would have also been nice to hear her try her hand at some of Radiohead’s more electronic flavored songs, especially given that her attention to detail really made “Idioteque” stand out.

Yet by and large, Amanda Palmer’s ukulele-infused valentine comes off as a success, simply because she doesn’t try to be Mr. Yorke or Mr. Greenwood. She sings these songs with care and conviction, the same qualities she’d use if the songs were her own. This type of whimsical reverence not only makes Popular Hits… a pleasure to listen to, but also adds an enchanting quality to these well-known tracks. While it’s entirely possible that some won’t care for Palmer’s take on Radiohead, it would be impossible to argue that it’s because of her craft. Listeners trying to find fault with Popular Hits… are probably just bitter that they didn’t think of it first.

Or that Amanda Palmer didn’t cover their band instead.

Key Cuts: Fake Plastic Trees, No Surprises, Idioteque

Sounds Like: The Broken String (Bishop Allen), Ukulele Recordings E.P. (Hellogoodbye), Radiohead…kinda.

Click on the artwork to sample Amanda Palmer Performs The Popular Hits Of Radiohead On Her Magical Ukulele for yourself!

Guest Post @ "A Rush Of Blog To The Head"

A few weeks ago, my very good friend Matt over at A Rush Of Blog To The Head asked if I'd be interested in contributing to a long standing segment on his blog. I don't guest blog often, save for the occasional blog swap, but I was immediately flattered that Matt thought enough of my writing to feature it. Simply put, it didn't take me long to say Yes, especially considering it's been one of my favorite segments to read for a good long while now.

Oh, and did I mention it's musically slanted?

Since January, Matt has been recounting down his top 50 albums one Sunday at a time, as part of his weekly (50) Sundays Of Music series. Part of the fun stems from Matt's eclectic taste, but the real draw comes from him sharing his attachments to these albums. Ultimately, Matt's segment gives his readers a deeper understanding into the albums that speak to him, while making us evaluate our own feelings and musical attachments in the process. It's brilliance is in it's simplicity.

I've posted my submission below, simply because I feel it's one of my more contemplative pieces, but I strongly urge you to check out Matt's blog, as well as the rest of his (50) Sundays Of Music segment. Remember, there's only 23 left!

(50) Sundays Of Music #24: Howl by Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

When Matt so graciously asked me to contribute this piece for his "(50) Sundays Of Music" series, I was immediately thrilled. I'd been following Matt's blog for a while, and I love the reflective nature and intimacy he brings to music discussions, something I've always attempted with my own writing. And after thinking about what a privilege it is to write something like this, I decided to comment about a record that has, only recently, made an impact on my life, rather than simply being one of my favorites.

Back in 2005, the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club (BRMC) released an incredibly polarizing record that split their fan base down the middle. It was called Howl, an homage to the poem by Allen Ginsberg as well as a thematic summation of what was inside its jewel case. I suppose if you'd been a fan of the group's blues-by-way-of-shoegaze cool, the record would have been incredibly off putting due to its acoustic character. There are no flashy guitar solos and no messy bridges on Howl. The record doesn't contain BRMC's signature drone, and it doesn't require amps that go to 11. Instead, it shuffles along, finding its pace in shimmering reflections and slow burning theatrics.

Yet the album is far from a collection of stripped down, "Unplugged" style b-sides.

The songs on Howl have an incredible weight to them, and that's the first thing I noticed when I spun the album. Like I said earlier, it's not so much a collection of stripped down songs, but an exploration of older, more organic ways to create music. These tracks are held together by the jangle of acoustic blues and folk, but they're fleshed out with weeping electric guitar, lumbering piano, and solemn strings. It's almost as if tinkering with these old (By 2010 standards) sounds puts an emphasis on how universal BRMC's lyrics are, a sense that no matter how far you travel, you'll always arrive somewhere familiar. So suffice to say, BRMC's lush harmonies and high production values make it a work to take seriously, an album that is more than just an acoustic novelty.

When I put it on, that's the quality that shines through the most: Authenticity.

There's an honesty through which these songs were assembled, and an earnestness to the truths they examine. Lyrically, Howl isn't so much a protest record as it is a lamentation on the choices men make. Throughout the album's 13 tracks, both Robert Been and Peter Hayes look at human morality as determined by pain and struggle. They don't necessarily come to a finite conclusion, but their journey has captivating highs and lows. Whether it's in exploring the anguish of change on "Promise" ("All lines are broken/And we need you to hold on/Your eyes have opened/But you've got to go on/I'll comfort you, I'll stay with you/It's a promise not forgotten") or the world-weary connectedness of "Shuffle Your Feet" ("Tiiiiiiiiime/Won't save our souls") BRMC's refreshingly grand scope makes Howl a deceptively thoughtful record through modest means.

Yet as true as these qualities are for me, as well as other fans of Howl, I suppose it doesn't say an awful lot about why this album is important to me.

To that, I have to simply reply that it's an album that perfectly parallels my present outlook on life. Suddenly, almost overnight, my world got bigger and my fears scarier in this post-college world. I often joke about how I feel middle aged at 22, but I'm beginning to feel a disconnect from young people that are hedonistic, and I yearn to connect with others that are searching like I am. You won't find any songs on Howl about romantic relationships, or nights out with your friends, and while those are all important aspects of life, Howl touches on the soul, spirituality, and the stuff that men are made of. At a time in my life where I'm confused about the future, it's comforting to have a piece of music that so eloquently asks the same questions I'm asking.

There's a vulnerability on Howl that really rings true for me, a quality absent from the vast majority of music today. Maybe it has to do with the way Been's naked voice sounds over plucked strings, or maybe it's because I've developed a voracious appetite for the blues. I suppose it might have to do with the idea of life as one loud cry for something intangible. Maybe everyone is howling for understanding, and confusion runs rampant because we can't hear each other over the noise.

Honestly, I'm not 100% sure.

Whatever it is, I find Howl instantly relatable and endlessly applicable, the sign of any timeless record. Perhaps if you take it for a spin, you'll feel that way too.

Live: Andrew McMahon @ Swedish American Music Hall (10/25)

At 22 years of age, I’m by no means an old man. I do, however, start to feel like I’ve been around for a while. I pay bills, maintain schedules, and I have to be responsible on a daily basis. As such, I’m finally starting to realize that there are patches of my life where I had to grow up, and I know what it means to grow up with something special, especially when it comes to music.

I’m not talking about simply remembering that hot single you were into as a freshman, radio hits come and go. I’m talking about growing up and learning about life with the records that mean the most to you. Because for me, that’s what Sunday night was about as I saw Andrew McMahon play an intimate acoustic show for an audience that hung on every word.

I went with my friend Steven, perhaps the biggest Andrew McMahon fan I know. He’s seen Something Corporate a few times, Jack’s Mannequin as well, but this was as exciting for him as it was for me due to the small space. Steven, like myself, grew up with McMahon whispering confessional thoughts and big ideas that resonated beyond the hooks they were written with. So naturally, we did our best to keep our excitement in check.

Anytime you see someone that has that kind of affect on you, it’s a big deal.

Additionally, it’s a sentiment the two of us shared with him during the pre-show meet and greet. Security ushered in about 30 of us, Steven and myself included, and we watched McMahon and his right hand guitarist Bobby Raw treat us to a sound check of “Crashin’.” McMahon then took the time to shake everyone’s hand, sign personal mementos, take pictures, and trade stories.

The whole experience was something of a dream, the fans polite and respectful while McMahon never showed the ego typical of most rock stars. Instead, he seemed upbeat, chipper, and gracious. When it came time to meet him, I told him that I’d really love it if he could sing my copy of Something Corporate’s Leaving Through The Window, since it was the album that made me fall in love with his music.

I also told him I wouldn’t be that jerk in the audience screaming for him to play “Konstantine.”

He laughed, his smile still large under the layers of beard that hung to his face, but he took it in stride. He told Steven and I a story about how one audience member in New York made his demands far too vocal and they had to remove him from the venue. McMahon seemed to appreciate the passion and the want to hear such a song, but also found it frustrating when trying to put on a show.

“I guess my reputation precedes me,” he grinned.

He went onto say that he was thankful I connected to his music, that while maybe he’s not in the same place anymore as when he wrote Leaving Through The Window, he’s proud of the snapshot it took of his life. He seemed to still hold a special place for it in his past, even though most fans rudely cry out for only that material when he performs live.

“Don’t worry though,” he said, “We’ll play some old stuff tonight.”

The three of us took a picture, wide smiles and excited looks all around, and that was that. I remember just mulling it all over in my head, the opportunity to meet the man I’d listened to so many times in high school with my jankey disc man. It was out of this world and something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.

The show eventually got under way, McMahon treating fans to stripped down versions of about 20 songs that covered his time in Something Corporate and Jack’s Mannequin, as well as some choice covers. Yet what really made McMahon’s set stand out, was the clear passion he plays with. Starting the evening with “Hammers & Strings (A Lullaby),” McMahon’s tiny frame swayed with the keys he tickled, his voice as immersive as his piano work.

It’s easy to see that McMahon cares a great deal about the things he creates. Having his songs stripped to their bare essentials, audiences can tell he pays attention to how his songs are constructed, the tiny details hidden in their dramatic rises and falls. McMahon has a way of writing that reaches for the moon but feels fragile and delicate. Thematically, his material always seems to portray portraits of people searching for something larger than themselves, people in search of near life experiences during moments of quiet reflection.

In addition to his disciplined playing and song craft, McMahon also resonates as a skilled storyteller. This is perhaps his most endearing quality, evident in the vivid situations he sets in songs such as “Bruised” or “21 & Invincible.” The venue’s intimate setting allowed for a closeness, not only to him, but to the characters he’d talk about. Whether it was in the gentle serene comfort found in “As You Sleep” or the small inklings of hope gleaned from “Swim,” McMahon puts his heart on his sleeve to create these songs, a quality that makes him truly special.

While the evening held many high points, perhaps the highest was when McMahon trotted out a little known Something Corporate song that was rarely played live when it came out. Found on the Audioboxer E.P., “Walking By” was easily the biggest surprise of the night that held the audience in complete silence. Normally a string-laden ballad, the song took on a slow and tender pace in the middle of Swedish American Music Hall, one that matched the frailty of McMahon’s timber as he sang, “Why do you look when you've already found it?/What did you find that would leave you/Walking by?”

It was an evening of breathtaking moments, fun stories exchanged, and some jerk that DID scream for “Konstantine.” It was, however, an evening that felt special not just because of sentimentality, but because it gave a small glimpse to the creator of these songs.

After the show, Steven and I waited once more to see McMahon as he greeted the faithful outside the venue. We expressed how much we loved the show and that “Walking By” was a big highlight for us personally. He smiled, perhaps glad that there were people that thought about songs that weren’t singles, but it almost felt like he got something back from us enjoying a song that clearly bared a great deal of his soul.

Maybe in some way he experienced something close to what we did that night, understanding the affect he’s had on people with the songs he’s made. If that’s the case, I’m glad Steven and I could have shared that with him as he shared his songs with us.

Folsom Prison 5 Year Old

She's cute now, but I see an all black wardrobe in her future.

The Smashing Pumpkins- American Gothic E.P. (****)

A happy 2008 goes out to all my readers out there. With a great year of music behind us, it’s time to push forward and pay attention to the new. As such, it might be difficult as we’ve hit a dry patch in January with many releases slated to hit later this year rather than sooner.

However, the first major release of the year is a charmingly pleasant surprise.

For all the griping about the new Smashing Pumpkins, it’s a wonder to me that they had any fan in the first place. It’s been established that Billy Corgan and Jimmy Chamberlin wrote the classic songs anyway, yet their new material is met with such backlash it’s unreal. People need to get over that Zeitgeist was repackaged by heartless label executives and listen to the music, of which is incredibly high quality.

That being said, the band’s new digital E.P. American Gothic is further proof that their songwriting chops have aged like fine wine. According to the great pumpkin himself, Corgan stated that these four tracks are the product of their touring residencies in Asheville, North Carolina and San Francisco, California back in the summer of 2007. The songs were written on the road and teased numerous times during these shows to wonderful audience reception.

The acoustic strummings of American Gothic are a short shot in the arm, four concise songs with Corgan at his most gorgeous and melancholy. The production is fantastic on this release, lush enough to allow for depth and atmosphere but without a thick layer of studio gloss. The material here is organic in nature, with Chamberlin’s percussion still feeling like a full kit and still allowing Corgan’s acoustic guitar to flourish.

The collection leads off nicely with the romantic sounding “The Rose March.” The number begins with a cascading acoustic melody that is further strengthened by multiple tracks of Corgan’s gentle “la la las” harmonizing over each other. It’s a thing of fragile beauty, as Corgan laments about catching the moon, and laying pedals down for the one he loves. Gentle keyboard swells punctuate the song, further rounding out the wonderful arrangement.

As a whole, the collection reminds me of the folkier experimentation they flirted with on Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness. While none of the songs here quite reach those indulgent heights, it’s interesting to see the band in a “less-is-more” mentality. It’s as if Corgan’s realized that he doesn’t need to make every song into a symphonic statement. The tracks here can stand up on their own, without a full orchestra backing them, further displaying the expert song craft.

“Pox” is easily the E.P.’s crown jewel, twisting into a dark and desolate soundscape. It’s the most caustic that Corgan gets on the collection, singing “We’re giving back a dream…” His current pre-occupation with Americana is strongly evident here and Chamberlin’s percussion is as it’s most mesmerizing, chock full of spidery rolls and tumbling cymbal crashes. It’s a guttural track, where Corgan’s tortured wail seems to be enveloped in the disparity of the music itself. Of all the songs present on American Gothic, is the only number where you’ll yearn for some beefy overdrive and messy guitar solo, and perhaps the only one that would translate over well to a full electric version.

The quaint charm of American Gothic closes with the fleeting “Sunkissed.” Organ swells and elegant guitar harmonics run rampant through the track. It further proves that Corgan at his most mournful is still a master of creating an uplifting music piece. The song also finds Corgan finally feeling comfortable with where he is in the universe, with him “Calling upon the wisdom of my age…”

For those complaining about Zeitgeist’s baroque take on meaty and almost metal arrangements, they should be the most adoring of American Gothic. There is something distinctly American about the tracks as well, from the folky undertones to the lyrical content. It basks in its somber beauty and simple make up, but never attempting to pass itself off as something contrived.

In this sense, Corgan has truly made the American statement many feel he didn’t make with Zeitgeist.

Sounds Like- 9 (Damien Rice), Either/Or (Elliott Smith), Adore (The Smashing Pumpkins)

Key Cuts- The Rose March, Pox, Sunkissed