2011: The Year In Music

I know it's been a long time coming, filled with self-promotion and waiting, but I can definitively say that THESE are the albums in 2011 that caught my ears, piqued my interest, and took up space on both my iPod and computer. For a more complete list of music releases this year, check this out.

And now, without further adieu…

Best Release of 2011: No Devolución by Thursday (*****)
Complete albums, ones that make a specific statement in mood and execution, are hard to come by.  That said, Thursday’s No Devolución is perhaps the MOST complete album of 2011. Here, the New Jersey five-piece is at their most inventive, merging shimmering post-rock flourishes and icy keyboards with their already visceral, car-crash style guitarwork.  The frostbitten synthesizer stabs and twisting guitar chime of “No Answers” displays a group that’s interested in sculpting the space around them.  Elsewhere, the oozing bass driven dirge of “A Darker Forest” shows they’re unafraid explore heavy overtones without always pushing their instruments into the red.  Yet the storm-like atmosphere might be the most engaging part of No Devolución, for Thursday effortlessly shifts from bludgeoning, angular dissonance (“Past & Future Ruins”) to glistening reverb soaked heights (“Magnets Caught In The Metal Heart”).  Through it all, Geoff Rickley’s dream-like explorations of intimacy and devotion ties it together, throwing his personal struggles against this musical maelstrom.  While his prose is more abstract than past Thursday offerings, Rickley explores the tightrope we all walk in search of authenticity, acceptance, and ultimately, love.  This conceptually coalesces in the swirling, white noise dénouement of “Stay True” where Rickely ultimately reveals that devotion is only real if we ourselves remain true about our desires and dreams.  Discovering this sort of truth has lead the group calling it quits after 14 years, but even still, it’s breathtaking to see a band follow their instincts, conviction, and hearts to create a modern masterpiece.  If this is the last time we hear Thursday, at least we’ll know they went out following their vision with an incredible swan song in No Devolución.  Key Cuts: No Answers, A Darker Forest, Past & Future Ruins

Best Debut: Yuck by Yuck (****½)
Someday, the 90s will be remembered liked the 60s: As a hot bed of musical creativity both in sound and aesthetic.  Until then, however, we’ll have to settle for a handful of groups that understand that while the critics and the mainstream calls it “retro.”  Yuck is one such band invested the sonic freedom that the 90s fostered (even if it’s 2011), and they used their exciting blend of Archers Of Loaf fuzz-pop and Smashing Pumpkins style emoting to create the year’s most exciting debut.   The group’s self-titled album starts with the reckless crunch and wail of “Get Away,” while “Shook Down” incorporates pillowy vocals and drifting acoustics before the feedback-wrapped solo knocks it into the stratosphere.  Yuck doesn’t stop there; “Suicide Policeman” falls somewhere in between the quaintness of The Kinks or The Beatles if Butch Vig got them signed to Sub Pop.  But by and large, the album’s real standout is the slow-motion ballad “Stutter,” where Daniel Blumberg’s dreamy vocals make time stop over trailing guitar lines and heartbeat bass work.  Part of the charm of these old 90s groups was their knack for finding a way to make the most intimate moments seem like lifetimes, and whether you listen to Yuck with nostalgia or critical curiosity they’ve certainly accomplished that here.  Key Cuts: Shook Down, Suicide Policeman, Stutter

Best Rock Release: Belong by The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart (****½)
How do you make your charming indie debut seem like a demo tape cut in your Mom’s basement?  You write a blissfully transcendent record while hiring Flood and Alan Moulder to add some much needed punch to the mix.  For The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart this resulted in Belong, a 10-track journey through shoegaze, twee pop and everything else in between.  The album’s title song starts things off with a blitzkrieg of space-like riffs that would make Billy Corgan blush, while the 80s-inspired synthesizers on “Heart In Your Heartbreak” display the group’s ability to balance texture with swirling, kaleidoscopic guitars.  Aside from its obvious genre cues though, the thing that makes Belong sparkle is its intimacy, both in sound and in subject matter.  Kip Berman spends a lot of time using his soft, androgynous voice to explore the moments where relationships fall apart or when the realities of impermanence catch up to us.  On the hazy, haunting power-pop thump of “Even In Dreams,” Berman examines the ideal of boundless loyalty, existing in a place we could only imagine.  Like the best rock albums, Belong catapults listeners into a place where mood becomes paramount to rationality, giving us impressions of feelings all too familiar, yet larger than who we are.  At the end of the day, this accounts for very little growing pains for The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart, as they've created a record that displays natural maturity while keying in on the hurt that happens when we all grow up.  Key Cuts: Belong, Heart In Your Heartbreak, Even In Dreams

Best Punk/Post-Hardcore Release: Parting The Sea Between The Brightness & Me by Touché Amoré (*****)
Urgency has always been the hallmark of great punk rock.  Today, this is doubly true to separate the spectacular from the mundane; groups are playing louder, vocalists are harsher, and with the democratization of recording technology everyone can have an “authentic” sounding record. Yet listening to Touché Amoré’s sophomore album, you get the sense that urgency may still be alive and well, even if it’s simply relegated to the underground.  Clocking in at around 20 minutes, Parting The Sea Between Brightness & Me is the most important punk record this year.  Clayton Stevens and Nick Steinhardt smash each other’s guitars together like crashing waves, while Tyler Kirby’s sliding bass hits like a low-end battering ram.  “The Great Repetition” is a driving, sonic tailspin of claustrophobia, while “Art Official” benefits from slam-and-release style distortion.  Though things slow down on the funeral-style piano ballad “Condolences,” don’t think it’s the token sensitive track on the record.  Everything on Parting… has been constructed to be immediate and raw; the group recorded this album live in the studio, drummer Elliot Babin’s brash beats stop/start on a dime, and NONE of the tracks clock in over 2:21.  In short, Touché Amoré aren’t interested in distractions, they're interested in what’s real, both lyrically and in execution.  On “~,” Jeremey Bolm’s sandpaper shouts layout the group’s musical manifesto, set against adrenaline rush riffs and shimmering vistas, “If actions speak louder than words/I'm the most deafening noise you've heard…”  Key Cuts: ~, The Great Repetition, Art Official

Best Metal Release: Time Is Up by Havok (****½)
Contrary to what every 13-year old with an Internet connection believes, metal music doesn’t succeed solely on how fast or how LOUD the musicians might be.  A great metal record creates mood, a level of energy that gets your blood pumping and head banging.  Here’s where Havok comes in, because with Time Is Up, they’ve fashioned an exciting metal record that focuses on something crucial: Atmosphere.  Of course the riffs here are mean fighter pilots of palm-muted crunch, especially like on the blistering opening of “Prepare For Attack,” but amidst the plethora of laser dive bombs and pick slides they’re able to establish some infectious grooves that add heaviness without blowing out your ear canal.  The entire disc falls firmly in between the Metallica/Megadeth school of 80s thrash, but Havok isn’t afraid to shift time signatures with purpose, which ultimately avoids the current ADD-style riffing that needlessly complicates modern metal.  “Killing Tendencies” begins with a fat, low-end march, before exploding into a frenzied onslaught, while “D.O.A.” sports an honest to goodness spider-riff that would make Dave Mustaine tear up inside.  Though Jesse de los Santos’ vocal range may only cover a howl-to-shriek type of delivery, the thing that really gives Time Is Up its teeth and its staying power its sense of melody.  The solos here twist and flurry with the best axe men, but they suit the arrangements rather than being a flavorless grab bag of self-indulgence.  Indeed, Havok have delivered something special here, reminding us that sometimes composition and tension are just as important as rocking the hell out.  Key Cuts: Prepare For Attack, D.O.A., Killing Tendencies

Best Electronic Release: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo OST by Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross (****½)
Let’s get the obvious out of the way: Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ kinetic, clamorous cover of “Immigrant Song (Feat Karen O.)” is as sexy and sleek as it is gothically inclined.  Moreover, the layered, slow-burn drift of “Is Your Love Strong Enough?” (Featuring How To Destroy Angels) provides another haunting bookend for The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo OST.  But where this three-disc collection of music really ascends is in Reznor and Ross’ continued drive to retain their signature voice while expanding their sonic palate.  Decidedly less glitchy than The Social Network OST, Girl… finds Reznor residing on the softer end of the spectrum, while creating menacing and tense soundscapes.  Synthesizers swirl and moan all over Girl…, casting shadows over these creeping, slinking arrangements.  Rumbling bass work often gives the sense of impending dread, while organic percussion is looped and warped to shimmer and hum, creating an ominous instrumental fog.  Additionally, white noise freak-outs are at a premium on Girl…, allowing Reznor and Ross to display their touch for the delicate without coming across as too ballady. On “What If We Could?” listeners are treated weighty piano while tense electronics create a wailing haze against twinkling xylophones.  While it probably adds another layer of weight to David Fincher’s new film, Reznor and Ross should be proud of what they’ve accomplished here, once again proving how innovative their creative chemistry is to electronic music.  Key Cuts: Immigrant Song (Feat. Karen O), What If We Could?, The Heretics

Best Produced Release: Codes & Keys by Death Cab For Cutie (****½)
The more Chris Walla takes up the producer credit on albums, the more impressive his ear and his skills behind the boards seem.  With Death Cab For Cutie’s latest offering, Walla helps Ben Gibbard and Co. blend soft keyboards and programmed drums with an organic, live-in-the-room sound.  Most of the time, Codes & Keys comes across like a vintage photograph, evoking vivid/arresting moods while seeming distanced from the harshness often displayed in modern production.  It's a special kind of feeling on Codes & Keys, soft but clear.  Though the album’s title track is a lumbering mix of stompy piano and soothing strings, cuts like the robotic hum of “Unobstructed Views,” or the buzzed out, zippy “Monday Morning” feel effortlessly spacious, and warmer than their keyboard-centric instrumentation would lead you to believe.  Gibbard’s surprisingly self-assured song craft is in fine form here, but Codes & Keys largely succeeds because of how in balance everyone’s instruments are.  Each player’s contributions are highlighted within Walla’s pristine mix, whether it’s Gibbard’s soaring guitar lines on “You Are A Tourist,” or Nick Harmer’s decisive bass work on the echo-soaked “Some Boys.”  Yet ultimately, Walla’s touch grants some crisp cohesion to an album that could have just as easily gone off the sonic railroad track.  Amidst soaring strings, snappy cymbal sequencing, and syrupy guitar lines, Walla allows all of his band mates to shine on Codes & Keys, a feat only a deft producer could display as effortless.  Key Cuts: Codes & Keys, You Are A Tourist, Monday Morning

Best Comeback Release: Neighborhoods by blink-182 (****½)
From plane crashes to Grammy announcements, the story of blink-182’s storied reunion has been plastered all over then Internet and then some.  The biggest question after the hatchets were all buried though, was could this trio recapture the promising potential they displayed on 2003’s (untitled)?  The short answer is Yes: Neighborhoods adds some beefed-up punk punch to the group’s continued preoccupation with 80s style synthesizers, trailing delay effects, and the tried and true dual vocals of Tom DeLonge and Mark Hoppus.  Look no further than the album’s opening number: “Ghost On The Dance Floor” features Travis Barker’s thunderous drumming, shining/technicolor snyths, twitchy guitar lines, and climbing bass work before it all explodes into a raucous, flange soaked bridge.  Though the group opted to self-produce given the passing of long-time “fourth member” Jerry Finn, they seem a lot more comfortable melding their divergent musical interests without an outside influence.  From the ascending, star-struck buzz of “Up All Night” to the downstroked frenzy of “Heart’s All Gone,” Neighborhoods might be the most diverse blink record yet, even if the production errs on the dry side.  Lyrically, Neighborhoods keys in on the decay of youth and old haunts, which seems apt given the trials and tragedy surrounding blink’s reunion.  Whether it’s the broken relationships immortalized on the high-hat heavy “After Midnight” or the twisting, Cure-flavored sexual tension of “Snake Charmer,” Neighborhoods finds blink-182 looking within while sticking to their adventurous sonic instincts.  Welcome back guys, it’s been a long 8 years.  Key Cuts: Ghost On The Dance Floor, Up All Night, Snake Charmer

Best E.P.: ††† by ††† (*****)
While the Deftones had a smash album last year, leave it to lead singer Chino Moreno to get antsy on the road.  Much like his 90s electronic side project Team Sleep, ††† (pronounced “Crosses”) has allowed Chino to scratch that creative itch while exploring yet another huge electronic trend: Witch House.  Yet unlike Salem, oOoOO, or any other variant of typographically challenged acts, ††† is a shining example if what the genre can yield rather than an exercise in tired beat making and pitch-distorted vocals.  Things get witchy pretty quickly on this E.P., whether it’s the snappy clatter and keyboard shower of “Op†ion” or the phantasmal shine of “†hholyghs†.”  While considerably lighter on gothic flourishes in relation to other witch house contemporaries, Moreno makes up for that with his often breathy, desperate, and hungry croon.  ††† as a whole does a great job of continuing to showcase how gifted a vocalist he is, especially on the midnight séance come-on of “Bermuda Locke†.”  But ultimately, what separates this fabulous E.P. from the deluge of lesser bands it’s grouped with is Moreno’s sense of grandeur.  With a little bit of financial means to back this vanity project, ††† never sounds like it was recorded on a janky four-track, and the large cathartic swells here seem bigger, brighter, and more powerful then one might expect from this genre.  On the closing, middle-eastern tinged “†,” Moreno’s project sounds simultaneously dream-like and cultish, the perfect musical storm for this supernatural take on electronic music.  Key Cuts: Op†ion, Bermuda Locke†, †

Most Ambitious: Bon Iver, Bon Iver by Bon Iver (***½)
Justin Vernon couldn’t go back to crafting ramshackle acoustic numbers after collaborating with everyone from Kanye West to Gayngs in 2010.  When you fly that close to the sun, the expectation is that you’ll shine brighter, and Vernon has done everything to make Bon Iver, Bon Iver into a vivid work of art.  If For Emma, Forever Ago was the sound of a man’s heartache secluded in a winter cabin, Bon Iver’s follow up is the thaw afterwards, with percussion that sounds like babbling brooks, keyboards that rise like the sun, and an infusion of horns and electric guitars to sculpt dreamy soundscapes.  Vernon takes sonic cues from icons like Peter Gabriel and Phil Collins, all in an effort to make his record feel like expansive place, almost like its Thomas Kinkade-style cover alludes to.  From the smoky guitar ring of “Perth” to the sighing keyboards on “Calgary,” Vernon marries slick instrumentation with soft atmospheres to give these songs a quiet sense of tranquility.  Arrangements weave and bend here, rather than rattle and creak, and the warmth suits Bon Iver even if it’s a bit distracting at first blush.  While this push towards a brighter, fuller sound can sometimes get him into trouble (The horn heaving “Beth/Rest” comes to mind) it’s commendable to see an artist, so lauded for his simplicity, stepping into something that requires a bit more meticulousness in terms of composition.  On “Holocene” Vernon’s whisper-honey voice chimes “And at once I knew, I was not magnificent…” over finger picked tension, but don’t buy it, it’s a sly misdirect.  Even with its imperfections, it’s hard to deny the pristine glimmer of Bon Iver, Bon Iver.  Key Cuts: Perth, Holocene, Calgary

Most Experimental: The King Of Limbs by Radiohead (*****)
Though it might not be entirely shocking that The King Of Limbs is unlike any other Radiohead album before it, it still stands to reason that Thom Yorke and the gang continue to twist our conception of music with every successful release they put out.  Not only that, but they make it seem effortless.  Borrowing everything from free-jazz to dubstep glitches, woodsy folk, and weightless space-rock, Radiohead’s latest release might be their most genre-bending batch yet.  Whether it’s the sultry clatter and groove of “Lotus Flower” or the misty, echo-soaked acoustics of “Give Up The Ghost,” Radiohead seem more insistent to challenge their listeners (and themselves) more than ever before.  Yet despite the increased level of programmed drums and laptop buzz, there’s something about The King Of Limbs that feels organic and secluded, a hidden sort of beauty that only reveals itself after repeated listens to these sometimes fractured songs.  “Bloom” unfolds with swelling horns, thick beats, and Charles Minus swagger, while the piano dirge and sole French Horn call of “Codex” is blissfully mesmerizing.  Though if there’s one constant in the land of Radiohead, it’s Yorke’s continually ethereal voice, balancing a wistful tenor with a darkly sexy coo.  He shifts from confrontational (“Morning Mr. Magpie”) to immersive (“Separator”) with a master’s touch, often contributing the most arresting moments on the LP.  While it may only be 8 songs long, The King Of Limbs is a confident display of restraint and experimentation, a labor of love from the most forward thinking group in modern music today.  Key Cuts: Lotus Flower, Codex, Separator

Most Eclectic: Hot Sauce Committee Part Two by The Beastie Boys (*****)
One of the most exciting aspects of hip-hop has always been the cut-and-paste hodgepodge of sounds that producers and DJs string together for MCs.  There’s a beautiful sense of diversity/ingenuity that comes from mining those found sounds, proliferating the craft of turn tabling as well as allowing the music itself to be aesthetically accessible to just about anyone.  Championing this in the 80s (and making a nearly 3 decade career out of it), The Beastie Boys reminded us in 2011 just how much fun that kind of music making could be with Hot Sauce Committee Part Two.  There’s thick, overblown bass, chunky reggae rhythms, spaztic jazz passages, punk rock whirlwinds, and a song called “Funky Donkey” for goodness sakes.  While the deceptively youthful Mike D., AD Rock, and MCA keep their dynamic tag team rhymes intact, it’s the instrumentation that takes precedent on Hot Sauce...  From the metallic clang and slide of “Nonstop Disco Powerpack” to the mammoth-sized beats and synthesizer pulse of “Long Burn The Fire,” the Beasties work like musical mad-scientists.  No sound is too strange, no instrument or aesthetic too far-out to pair with their absurdist bravado.  “Lee Majors Come” again features rhymes about the 6 Million-Dollar Man, set against dirty bass work and twitchy record scratches, while the speaker blasting fuzz of “Too Many Rappers (New Reactionaries Version)” feels gargantuan.  There are guest spots of course; everyone from Santigold to Nas, but the real feat here is how the Beasties still make their “everything-and-the-kitchen-sink” approach to hip-hop work, especially after 30+ years in the business.  With cuts this good, we can only imagine what Part One might be like.  Key Cuts: Nonstop Disco Powerpack, Long Burn The Fire, Lee Majors Come Again

Most Crapped On: Lulu by Lou Reed & Metallica (***)
For reasons other than the hype and pretension surrounding its overblown release, Lulu is an easy record to hate.  It’s needlessly long, dangerously monotonous, and to top it off, Lou Reed sounds like a homeless Allen Ginsberg at the depths of a heroine binge.  HOWEVER, if you can forgive all of the above (Which believe me, is a TALL order), you may actually find something to appreciate on this two-disc monster.  This is mostly because in the midst of Reed’s self-indulgent homage to a set of German plays exploring sexuality and violence, Metallica actually strings together some interesting arrangements, even exploring texture and mood in addition to their usual savage thrash metal.  While “The View” has been ridiculed for James Hetfield’s rough proclamation of being a table, the song’s main riff is doom-inspiring and Sabbath-esque, before crumbling into a chugging bridge and Kirk Hammett’s splattering lead work.  It doesn’t stop there: “Pumping Blood” alternates from clean passages to “Leper Messiah” style crunch, while “Mistress Dread” cuts faster than some of the group’s work on Kill ‘Em All, possibly for twice the length.  Elsewhere, the menacing heave and plod of “Iced Honey” recalls RELoad’s biker metal cool, proving that with all the problems surrounding Lulu’s execution and conception, Metallica aren’t an overwhelming part of that.  Still, it’s sort of a shame to feel like this star-studded album is simply a rough draft, especially when Reed’s dried-up croak makes an interesting collaboration into painfully average one.  Key Cuts: Pumping Blood, Mistress Dread, Iced Honey

Biggest Surprise(s): Camp by Childish Gambino (****)/No Kings by Doomtree (****½)
I had to pair these next two records together because I think with their DIY aesthetic and hunger they BOTH hit me in the exact same way.  Additionally, they’re both from underground artists that have been honing their craft for a while now; ones who are just now starting to see their discipline pay off.  With Camp, Donald Glover (a.k.a. Childish Gambino) has put his pop-culture machine gun of a mouth to good use, spinning tales of his awkward upbringing, while undermining the hyper masculine bravado still prevalent in hip-hop.  Over an expansive mix of genres, Glover hits on just about area sonic area imaginable, whether it’s 90s R&B glide of “Fire Fly” or the slash and burn fuzz of “Bonfire.”  The real gem, however, is “Backpackers,” where Glover’s Hans Zimmer-meets-Kanye West clatter provides the backbone for him to call out his contemporaries with masterful precision.  Given his tenure in the television world (30 Rock, Community), Glover has a comedian’s sense of timing that truly elevates his delivery on Camp, displaying a sense of timing that other rappers would cut their arms off for.  Elsewhere, No Kings by Doomtree takes a slightly different approach: While this Minneapolis rap collective has spawned some great individual artists (P.O.S, Dessa) No Kings is the first time the group exudes confidence, both in their music and in their message.  Whether it’s the barracuda bass line of “No Way” or the aching blues shuffle of “Little Mercy,” Doomtree are able to marry the punk spirit of rebellion with the gritty realism found in hip-hop.  The music here goes for the jugular: “Bangarang” features a shower of dizzying synthesizers, while cuts like “Bolt Cutter” and “Gimme The Go” relish in chip tune dissonance and expressive electronics.  Yet what sets No Kings apart is the fact that it’s a call to arms; addressing everything from the Occupy movement to racial inequity and social justice, No Kings is the kind of record that pushes people to see how the sausage is made, and whether or not it’s worth the price.  That said, the only question left to answer is with hip-hop records like Camp and No Kings, who needs Drake?  Key Cuts from Camp: Fire Fly, Bonfire, Backpackers / Key Cuts from No Kings: No Way, Bangarang, Little Mercy

Biggest Letdown: Major/Minor by Thrice (**½)
Though the bar may have been set to astronomical heights following Thrice’s sonically adventurous The Alchemy Index and the crystalline slow-burn of Beggars, it’s hard not to be disappointed with Major/Minor simply on a basic level of composition.  This may be the most vanilla sounding album of 2011, from Dave Schiffman’s “11-hues-of-flat” mix to Teppei Teranishi and Dustin Kensrue’s disappointingly cumbersome riffs.  Riley Breckenridge’s drum kit sounds muddled and muted throughout the entire record, and his brother’s bass simply disappears at times.  Nothing leaps out of your speakers, nothing makes listeners appear that things could go off the rails at any moment, and the result is a listening experience that never really takes off.  Part of the problem may be the group’s lack of initiative to explore new sonic territory.  Thrice went back to that stripped down, live-in-room setting they explored on Beggars, but with about half as many quality riffs.  Though the group occasionally finds a grinding groove (“Yellow Belly”) or a glimmer of grandeur (“Anthology”), it all seems too careful and calculated to really resonate in a meaningful fashion.  While Kensrue’s strained and cracked vocals add insult to injury, Major/Minor ultimately suffers from lack of purpose.  The album is a re-tread of ideas that Thrice have performed better on previous offerings: Nothing here is heavy enough to grab our attention, or surprising enough to defy our expectations.  Perhaps the group’s self-imposed hiatus will allow them to think about where to go next, rather than offer us another record like Major/Minor.  Key Cuts: Yellow Belly, Call It In The Air, Anthology

Biggest Blog Buzz: Torches by Foster The People (****)
From Pitchfork to NPR, you couldn’t adequately cover music in 2011 if you ignored Foster The People’s lively debut.  Propelled by the nimble bass bump and twitchy electronics of “Pumped Up Kicks,” Foster The People’s MGMT Jr. charm either won you over or stood as the commercial thorn in your side.  Place this blog and this reviewer in the former: Torches won me over not because of its sonic similarity to a lot of other electronic indie-pop acts, but by how it was able to sound pristine and immersive while still demanding your attention.  “Helena Beat” buzzes and slides with skittering keyboard chatter while the chiming “Waste” just might be the brightest sounding ballad this year.  Though the group’s ability to craft a radio-friendly hook is well established on Torches, the sweeter part of the record is how the group is able to maintain a great sense of space and balance throughout the disc’s running time.  Most pop production smashes instruments into an unidentifiable soup of sounds, but Foster The People put in just enough ear candy (a synth line here, a looped sample there) to keep things lively while allowing each instrument to occupy its own space.  Whether it’s the two-step arcade push of “Houdini” or the drifting fog of “Miss You,” Torches was the ready-to-listen-to record no one could ignore in 2011, and it’s no wonder why the radio and blogs kept buzzing about it.  Key Cuts: Helena Beat, Pumped Up Kicks, Waste

The Record That Should Have Caught On: Elsie by The Horrible Crowes (****½)
If The Gaslight Anthem’s last album (and Bruce Springsteen elbow rubbing) made them a household name, one can only hope that Brian Fallon’s ever growing notoriety cultivates some love for his low-key side project, The Horrible Crowes.  Drawing on jazz bar angst and smoky blues grit, Elsie might be the best record you haven’t heard this year.  From the thunder and sparkle of “Sugar” to the pub-crawl slur of “Ladykiller,” Fallon and co-partner Ian Perkins weave tales about fractured love in an all-or-nothing kind of world.  While the aesthetics may not be innovative or earth shattering, the songs feel fresh and new, almost cinematic without an overabundance of fancy instruments.  “I Witnessed A Crime” benefits from weeping guitars and Fallon’s weary croak, while the finger picked “Cherry Blossoms” is as aching as the disintegrating relationship it chronicles.  Spacious and rich, Elsie is nighttime music, the kind of record that’s as confessional as it is majestic.  On the chilly hymnal closer “I Believe Jesus Brought Us Together,” Fallon explores the cold burn of emotional distance with lines like, “Do you wanna come over?/I was just about to miss you/Did you say you were lonely?/I was just about to call you…”  Though there might have been more upbeat and effervescent albums this year, the songs on Elsie demand your attention.  Fallon taps into something primal here, exploring all the worries, scars, and ghosts that creep into our heads before we hit the pillow.  If you’re looking for a new record to speak to you in that starry-eyed sort of fashion, pick up The Horrible Crowes pronto.  Key Cuts: Sugar, I Witnessed A Crime, Cherry Blossoms

Worst Release of 2011: Angles by The Strokes (*½)
If I wanted to listen to an emotionless Flock Of Seagulls tribute band, I’d hit up Google.  Were Julian Casablancas to get over himself in the slightest I might consider cutting The Strokes some slack, but this is lazy music making.  For every dual guitar thrash-out that you hope will lead to something interesting, that hope is dashed away by a nasally croon that sounds like it'd rather be anywhere else than in the recording booth.  No thanks.  Key Cuts: Machu Picchu, Two Kinds Of Happiness, Games

WILDCARD: Strange Mercy by St. Vincent (****½)
As with my past WILDCARD picks, this is always a space for me to highlight a noteworthy album that I can’t seem to highlight in anywhere else.  There’s a certain amount of irony attached to my pick this year, mainly because the music present on St. Vincent’s Strange Mercy defies any sort of traditional categorization in its own right.  A cross between a swelling Disney soundtrack and a drugged-out, electronically bent nightmare, Strange Mercy finds multi-instrumentalist Annie Clark at her most musically adventurous.  Whether it’s the quirky zips and dives during the pulsing thump of “Cruel” or the twisted, gauzy climb of “Cheerleader,” Clark has finally settled into a sound that’s as threatening as it is elegant.  Though her voice may seem sculpted by angels, Clark spends the majority of the disc lamenting on how absolute faith and devotion can destroy absolutely everything, pairing it with her icy musical touch.  Indeed, love is a dangerous proposition in Clark’s world as she coos to be cut open on the blanket soft “Surgeon,” or rants about its production and sale on the frosty drift of “Champagne Year.”  For Clark, intimacy can be as much of a suffocating monster as loneliness can, and the twisted robotic crunch she brings to her soaring sweetness sonically mirrors this lyrical dichotomy.  In the end Strange Mercy, much like love, finds its beauty resting in the womb of contradiction, a delicate tightrope of pain and passion, light and dark, feeling and numbness, a set of contradictions that Clark is able to craft within her uniquely compelling musical perspective.  Key Cuts: Cruel, Cheerleader, Champagne Year

So there you have it, the records that left a sizable impression on me this past year.  What were your favorites of 2011?  Your most hated/loved?  Underrated?  Leave a comment below and share what records from 2011 stuck with YOU.

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

Beauty & The Beast

I'll let you decide which is which.

Bon Iver- Bon Iver, Bon Iver (***½)

Bon Iver fans HAD to expect that they weren’t going to get another For Emma, Forever Ago. After being heralded as indie rock’s new singer-songwriter Jesus, Justin Vernon spent the year collaborating with anyone he could get into a studio booth, including maximalist hip-hop mastermind Kanye West. There was no way he could come out of that as the same musician. As a result, Vernon no longer seems interested in the quaint acoustic strums we’ve come to associate with his main band. Bon Iver, Bon Iver is the sound of Vernon “going electric,” a 10-track work that aims to blend the synthetic with the organic, creating shimmering sonic vistas instead of ramshackle melodies. “Perth” introduces us to Vernon’s new, fleshed out sound, complete with disciplined marching band percussion, pregnant horns, and smoky guitar work. It doesn’t stop there, “Wash.” revels in twinkling ivories while “Michicant” is a flood of finger picked reverb and see-saw harmonies. Though Vernon seems less focused on Emma this time around, his lyrical images are still as arresting as ever. Bon Iver, Bon Iver seems to be a testament to where he’s been and where he’s going, evident even in his choices for song titles themselves (They’re all places.) On the pristine guitar pluck of “Holocene,” Vernon examines his own worldview and perception with lines like “…And all at once/I knew I was not magnificent.” Ultimately less confessional, Bon Iver, Bon Iver seems to be focused on creating something outside of Vernon’s reach instead of crystallizing a moment in his life. Yet for as meticulous as the album is, it does misfire on occasion, partially because Vernon has jumped head first into new sonic territory. “Beth/Rest” is an indulgent, horn-swathed number that will polarize the most loyal Vernon supporters. Even if Yeezy has taught him well this past year, a sense of self-editing could really aide Vernon in the future. Many of these songs lack the strong resonance of his old material, even if they’ve been expertly crafted. Often mesmerizing, Bon Iver, Bon Iver is the sound of an artist blooming into something special, and like with all kinds of growth, expect some growing pains.

Key Cuts: Perth, Holocene, Calgary

Lady GaGa- Born This Way (**)

It’s ironic that Lady GaGa would put out a record titled Born This Way given that it’s such a gross misrepresentation of the album’s actual material. Coming across like a suicide cocktail of S&M dungeon chic, lazy Madonna worship, and Def Leppard riffage, Born This Way is GaGa’s desperate/failed bid for mainstream immortality. The problem lies in the album’s construction; Born This Way sounds sonically confused and ideologically labored, two things Mama Monster has avoided up until this point. When the album reaches towards the Top 40, it’s a snooze; “Born This Way” falls flat with muddled beats and sterile programming that would embarrass even Teddy Riley, while “Americano” rehashes the Latin theatricality first explored on “Alejandro,” but with twice as many studio layers. Sadly, the record doesn’t know if it wants to be a crossover smash or take an aesthetic risk. While The Fame displayed a pop star that had a knack for synthesizing various musical styles, Born This Way seems sloppy, the product of a pop star throwing everything together to see what will stick. “Judas” sports the meanest, most metallic dance beat on the record and it’s squandered under a wailing hook that goes nowhere. Surprisingly, the album’s brightest moments are on its second half, when GaGa decides to push atmospheres rather than choruses. “Bloody Mary” is positively sultry with throbbing low-end contrasting GaGa’s rather restrained vocals. Elsewhere, “Heavy Metal Lover” sports glitchy drag beats over a heavy dose of chipmunk soul. Yet the biggest shock seems to be how GaGa has phoned in her once subversive voice, writing an album’s worth of clichés when she used to write pointed satire. The pre-packaged sloganeering on “Born This Way (“Don’t be a drag/Just be a Queen”) or “Hair” (“And I want you to know/I am my hair…”) ring hollow and calculated, cutesy turns of phrases to help move CDs instead of opinions. In the end, Born This Way is less a statement of strong individualism and more a drunken confession of insecurity. Lady GaGa wants so desperately for you to like her that she will kill herself to sell her persona. Too bad it’s not worth buying.

Key Cuts: Bloody Mary, Heavy Metal Lover, Electric Chapel

Mike & Liz's Monday Mixes: Volume Ten (Rebel Songs)

Though my post is a bit late this Monday, it's as vital as any in the Monday Mix Series. Liz from Dance To The Radio and I decided we'd focus our playlists this month on protest songs, songs that have moved people to action in the face oppression. If you think about it, rock & roll doesn't exist without the mindset of rebellion, and what better way to celebrate that than with anthologies of our favorite calls to arms? Hopefully these tracks speak to you like they spoke to us.

Civil War- Guns N' Roses

Sunday Bloody Sunday- U2

Know Your Rights- The Clash

Rise Above- Black Flag

When The President Talks To God- Bright Eyes

East Jesus Nowhere- Green Day

Killing In The Name- Rage Against The Machine

Uprising- Muse

Fuck Tha Police- N.W.A.

Head Like A Hole- Nine Inch Nails

Maggie's Farm- Bob Dylan

Let Them Eat War- Bad Religion

Friends In The Armed Forces- Thursday

Luke's Wall/War Pigs- Black Sabbath

United States- The Smashing Pumpkins

The Earth With Shake- Thrice

Download & Enjoy!

World Sick- Broken Social Scene

Revolution (Beatles Cover)- Elliott Smith

Rise Up With Fists!!- Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins

Gimme Shelter- The Rolling Stones

Revolution- Terrible Things

American Hearts- Piebald

Don't Hold Back- The Sleeping

Barfight Revolution- Margot & The Nuclear So & So's

Losing My Religion- R.E.M.

Up In Arms- Foo Fighters

I Fought The Law- The Clash

Dancing In The Dark- Tegan & Sara

Soft Revolution- Stars

Baba O'Riley- The Who

Stop!- Against Me!

Peace Beneath The City- Iron & Wine

Download & Enjoy!

Author's Note: We also opened up this month's Monday Mix to a few of our blogger friends. Allison over at My Quarter Life Crisis has a GREAT one.

My Chemical Romance- Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys (****½)

In the midst of bulletproof vests, black eyeliner, and all the classic rock theatricality, a certain aspect of My Chemical Romance’s craft has been lost: Their sense of perfectionism. Whether or not you bought into their penchant for ambition, it’s impossible to say MCR makes music for anyone but themselves. A simple glance at their career reveals a group obsessed with continually topping their previous artistic output, setting the bar higher and higher with each new release.

This is nothing new. Since the band’s inception, they’ve been focused on creating consistency in all realms of their art. This is apparent from their physical appearance to the intertextual Easter eggs embedded in Gerard Way’s prose. Nothing is an accident in the world of MCR, and 4 albums into their career, the very notion of a multi-media style concept remains tied to the fabric of their identity.

They go big, never opting to go home.

That said, it’s been a long journey leading up to Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys, and by the sound of the record, it appears to have been one hell of a ride. After scrapping an entire album of darkly tinged, Stooges-influenced punk, My Chemical Romance treat fans to their most eclectic and diverse album yet. While 2006’s The Black Parade was a testament to careful construction and traditional arrangements, Danger Days is splattered with looser songs and vibrant tones, the sound of a group embracing all the overblown recklessness rock n’ roll can offer.

By now, it’s clear that MCR’s concept would be anything but mundane (The record plays out like a radio transmission from 2019, where the group is a rag-tag gang of laser wielding outlaws in a dystopia-style Wild West), yet the album is light on narrative this time around. While pirate DJ Dr. Death Defying pops up every now and then, the songs are the real stars on Danger Days, capturing a sense of urgent rebellion against a backdrop of big melodies.

The snarling, snotty blues of “Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)” and the snyth-laced Trans AM crunch of “Bulletproof Heart” start things rolling, and the band never looks back. Frank Iero and Ray Toro effortlessly trade Iron Maiden-esque lead work like it was second nature, while Mikey Way holds the low-end with menacing proficiency. Yet it’s Gerard Way’s impeccable range that ties it all together, his voice marrying pulpy adventures with arresting images (“You got a bulletproof heart/I got a hollow point smile/We had our runaway scars/Got a photograph dream/On the getaway mile…”). Though the melodies are sing-songy, Way has a sincerity in his delivery, a sense of insistence that elevates his romantic, yet dangerous prose to meaningful places.

This tight sense of storytelling succeeds on two levels, allowing MCR the chance to refine the themes they’ve been singing about for nearly a decade, as well as push their music into new sonic territories.

While Danger Days has its share of loud, fast rock n’ roll (The gritty assault of “Party Poison” and the spikey metallic riffing of “Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back” come to mind), MCR has really embraced electronic embellishments this time around. “Planetary (GO!)” might be alarming for some longtime fans, but its blasting sirens, propulsive beat, and glitzed up synthesizers are like sonic heroin. Elsewhere, “SING” relishes in mammoth drums and twinkling piano, while “The Only Hope For Me Is You” implements thick electronics and shimmering guitars. Unlike some groups that force an aesthetic, MCR use these instruments carefully, branching out just enough to suit a specific song or the album’s future-chic concept.

The real beauty is how MCR makes Danger Days feel cohesive, without feeling directionless.

Even if the sounds and textures they’re experimenting with are processed in nature, the music isn’t. This is clear on the album’s crown jewel, “S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W,” a flange flavored combination of Beatles psychedelics and Smashing Pumpkins denseness. Toro’s ethereal axe-work takes the song to dizzying heights, but “S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W” finds the band operating on all cylinders, striking a delicate balance between bold experimentation and musical restraint.

In short, it’s clear that the band has grown a great deal since their last full length.

The 4-year gap between Danger Days and The Black Parade seems to have really assisted MCR in their soul searching. Danger Days finds Way mining the depths of his deepest fears, whether it’s cultish nature of religion on “DESTROYA” or the group’s detractors on “Vampire Money,” but he does so with perspective, not compulsion. Unlike other MCR records where ability to hope and love was buried under anguish (or perhaps found at the end of the journey) these seem to be the paramount themes on Danger Days. The group is simultaneously coming to terms growing older (“Hold your breath when a black bird flies/Count to seventeen and close your eyes/I'll keep you safe inside…”), without growing cynical. They’re able to embrace who they are while accepting life’s decay, preserving the urge to fight while realizing how far they’ve come.

And make no mistake, Danger Days is a bold call to arms. Cuts like the grungy, spazzed out “Vampire Money” keep the adrenaline flowing amongst all the lofty keyboards, but the real treat is how it all comes together. My Chemical Romance has made an album that stands up to the best of their back catalog, creating something many groups aren’t interested in making anymore: A big, uncompromising, rock album.

It’ll be wild seeing them top this one.

Key Cuts: Bulletproof Heart, Party Poison, S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W

Sounds Like: Origin Of Symmetry (Muse), Mellon Collie & The Infinite Sadness (The Smashing Pumpkins), Raw Power (The Stooges)

Click on the artwork to sample Danger Days: The True Lives Of The Fabulous Killjoys for yourself!

Author's Note: The deluxe edition of Danger Days has a bonus EP with one song that survived from the previous album, the much fabled "Black Dragon Fighting Society." While I can’t complain about the songs that ended up on Danger Days, I wonder how incredible the scrapped album still might have been since, quite simply, "Black Dragon Fighting Society" melts faces.

Surprise, Surprise!

With my hometown San Francisco Giants in the World Series, it’s only fitting that I begin this entry with a baseball-related lead…

There are times where artists give you big curveballs, the 12-to-6 breaking types to be exact (Sue me, I’m a Barry Zito fan). Here are a few records I didn’t expect to stick with me in the ways they have. Whether it’s a sonic twist, an interesting musical wrinkle, or a question of quality, these are some interesting listens that kept this reviewer on his toes.

Bad Books- Bad Books (****)
It’s hard to say what people were expecting when Andy Hull and Kevin Devine revealed they were working on music together. Both men take vastly different approaches to their song craft: Hull gravitates towards a more binge and purge style of emoting, while Devine constructs delicate cathedrals of metaphors from his words. The big question was would they attempt to collaborate, or would it feel like two E.P.s smashed together? In a lot of ways, maybe it was fair to expect songs that sounded like another Manchester Orchestra album, one that merely featured Devine as Hull’s main stay band provided added instrumentation. However, Bad Books’ self-titled record is a fuzzy, folky, and intimate set of songs that feels like its own beast completely. Less the sum of its parts and more the work of a full band, Bad Books breathes with a tender life of its own. Both Hull and Devine create revealing portraits with their words, whether it deals with the life’s bad luck gamblers (“The Easy Mark & The Old Maid”) or the completely clueless (“You Wouldn’t Have To Ask”). Aside from its melodic immediacy, what keeps Bad Books consistent is Hull and Devine’s ability to make listeners empathize with these flawed characters; they feel real, or are at least comparable to people we all know. Sonically, the group wears their love of 90s style rock proudly. The thumping swirl of “Baby Shoes” recalls the quirky jangle of Pavement, while some of the album’s more angular cuts mine Pinkerton era Weezer without feeling derivative. Subtle piano flourishes and full keyboard textures round these songs out nicely, and Bad Books succeeds in creating something no one would have ever expected from Hull or Devine: This year’s sleeper hit.

Key Cuts: The Easy Mark & The Old Maid, Baby Shoes, You Wouldn’t Have To Ask

Hellogoodbye- Would It Kill You? (***)
With their new album, Would It Kill You?, Hellogoodbye pose a big question to listeners. The real issue, however, is should they care? At this point, fans will be happy just getting a new album from the Huntington Beach pop outfit. It’s been 4 years since Hellogoodbye dropped their saccharin milkshake of electronic laced power-pop, Zombies! Aliens! Vampires! Robots!, and yet somehow it feels longer. That wait certainly creates lofty expectations for Would It Kill You?; if the band took this long to record an album of pop songs, it really has to be a homerun. And while the album begins with the jumpy rattle and energetic strum of “Finding Something To Do,” Would It Kill You? fails to match up to its predecessor both in songwriting and production. Make no mistake, lead songwriter Forrest Kline can write a chorus as syrupy as Vermont’s finest (“And this thought/Made it clearer/I ought to/Be near her…” he sings on “When We First Met”), but the coy images he conjures somehow lack the charm of the group’s debut. There was a sincerity to his lyrics on Zombies! Aliens! Vampires! Robots!, one that’s lost in Kline’s obsession with Magical Mystery Tour era Beatles song craft. That’s the other really tough sell on Would It Kill You?: The group’s decision to scale back the spazzy keyboards and auto-tune theatrics. Cropping up only in small bursts (The presence of laser beam synthesizers on the horn heavy “Betrayed By Bones” being one of them), Hellogoodbye consciously dial back the slickness in favor of more organic arrangements. There are cleaner guitars (“Something You Misplaced”), more sugary background vocals (“I Never Can Relax”) and a general lack of chaos, which kind of made the group appealing to begin with. It’s an album that’s seeped in sleepy strings, shambling melodies, and delicate percussion. While it sounds nice, it also sounds innocuous. Kline was so focused on making a pristine sounding record that he forgot to really push his arrangements, and that’s big the difference. The old Hellogoodbye would never ask if something would kill you, they’d kill you with kindness.

Key Cuts: Finding Something To Do, Betrayed By Bones, Something You Misplaced

Senses Fail- The Fire (***½)
After their meandering, overproduced third album, Senses Fail had something to prove. Lead singer Buddy Nielsen drove his drinking and his daddy issues into the ground, and the group lost a skilled axe man in Heath Sarceano. Yet, the biggest problem with Life Is Not A Waiting Room was that it stretched their sound to its extremes. The heavier numbers attempted to bludgeon listeners, while the ballads leaned towards melodramatic. This, in turn, made the songwriting feel rigid and stale. The Fire, however, attempts to leave that behind, bringing in truckloads of energy to a band that desperately needed a spark. The album’s title track starts things off with ominous gang vocals, thick muscular breakdowns, and Nielsen’s much improved vocal delivery. While far from an album of hardcore anthems, Senses Fail continue to keep the energy up through The Fire’s 11 blistering tracks, even on the ballads. Both the sharp stomp of “Saint Anthony” and the spidery melodies of “Safe House” remind fans just how addictive the group can be, while the soaring “Landslide” displays the group’s much more vulnerable side. Still, the album’s real strength is its urgency, evident from the furious coarseness of “Coward” or the relentless, crashing riffs on “Lifeboats.” While Brian McTernan provides Senses Fail with his familiar mechanical production tweaks, the songs just come across as more consistent than their last album, even if The Fire’s highs aren’t as memorable. Yet, the album’s brightest spot is its willingness to go out on a limb, to be exposed without relying on clichés. The group seemed a bit lost on Life Is Not A Waiting Room, and while they retreat to some familiar territory here, they should have no problem stepping forward with confidence on their next release.

Key Cuts: Safe House, Coward, Lifeboats

Weezer- Death To False Metal (***)
A strange sense of transparency has permeated throughout all things Weezer in the post-Weezer (The Red Album) era. Fans used to wait 6 years between Weezer albums, under the mindset that Rivers Cuomo was tinkering away like a mad scientist in the studio. While Cuomo has been lauded as having a Fort Knox size collection of demos for potential Weezer songs, Death To False Metal represents a mere ten-track tip of that iceberg. Unfortunately, it’s not a lost album of power-pop gold, and Weezer shows fans that even if you hated Make Believe, they are great editors. The songs that populate Death To False Metal are primarily sketches, and it’s easy to see why Weezer left them off their proper studio albums. The goofy Top Gun style synthesizers of “Auto-Pilot” and the jangly strum of “I’m A Robot,” find the group having fun in the studio, but not really holding anyone’s attention. Still, there are some interesting ideas hidden within Weezer’s familiar chunky fuzz, if not fully formed songs. “Everyone” rumbles with sharp metallic riffing, and “Losing My Mind” expertly displays twinkling melodies against soothing strings. The real highlight, however, is the album closing cover of “Un-Break My Heart,” displaying some desperate sentimentality with mammoth sized bravado. In all, Death To False Metal feels like an inconsistent patchwork quilt of experiments, but grants Weezer’s old and new material some interesting context.

Key Cuts: Losing My Mind, Everyone, Un-Break My Heart (Toni Braxton Cover)

Three's Company

Keeping up with all that’s leaking and releasing is no easy task. It’s kind of like John Ritter trying to make it with both Suzanne Somers and whoever that brunette was. The opportunity of choice paralyzed him, and Don Knotts barged in with hilarious, if counterproductive, results. So here’s my chance to avoid Mr. Furely and get the girl(s?) with three albums that have recently hit the net.

Hopefully, I’ve learned from John’s mistakes.

Deftones- Diamond Eyes (****)
Gotta hand it to the Deftones, after their bassist car crashed into a coma, they shelved the entire album they had just completed. Part of it was processing the tragedy; part of it was their wish to someday play those songs with him. Whatever the reason, the incident pushed them to enlist Sergio Vega and record Diamond Eyes. A noticeable step up from the murky and directionless Saturday Night Wrist, Diamond Eyes finds the Deftones perfectly balancing nightmarish dreamscapes with crushing riffs. The stutter-stop drumming of “Diamond Eyes” and the bone crushing relentlessness of “Rocket Skates” illustrate just how ferocious the group can sound. However, the Deftones have always been a bit more concerned with atmosphere than your average metal band and this is where Diamond Eyes truly shines. “You’ve Seen The Butcher” features slow, crawling riffs as shimmering keys build towards frightening heights. Elsewhere, “Beauty School” balances the group’s interest in trip-hop as it’s set against hazy distortion. Okay, so the record’s not perfect. The second half feels rushed when it comes to hooks, and fans are still curious about the unreleased material. But make no mistake: This is the Deftones most sonically realized album, perfectly balancing crisp sounds with monolith-sized anguish. With an album like this in their repertoire, who knows where they could go next.

Key Cuts: Diamond Eyes, You've Seen The Butcher, Beauty School


Minus The Bear- OMNI (***½)
By now, Minus The Bear has carved out a sizable niche for themselves within the proggier side of post-hardcore. Chalk it up to their workman-like attitude. This is a band that doesn’t seem intent on changing minds, just making music on their terms. OMNI certainly reinforces that notion with everything fans have come to expect from Minus The Bear. “Summer Angel” features the familiar melting guitars, as well as Jake Snider’s smooth voice and jazzy flavor. Album opener “My Time” bounces along with electronic slides and wavy rhythms while “Animal Backwards” relishes in processed loops, pulsing beats, and all manner of blips. Yet for a band priding themselves in complexity, the disc is arrested in mid-tempo, even if the time changes are a different shade of mid-tempo. OMNI might display Minus The Bear at their most accessible, but their zest for exploring dynamics comes across as muted. As it stands, OMNI is a pleasant record to run through but one that fails to leave a strong impression. Maybe they need their fans to break up with them before they make another daring record.

Key Cuts: My Time, Summer Angel, Animal Backwards


Ratatat- LP4 (***)
It’s more or less easy to point out what works on the new Ratatat album, LP4. For one thing, the dorky duo of Evan Mast and Mike Stroud has pushed their playful glitch rock into more organic territory. Strings (And honest to goodness piano!) crop everywhere on LP4, leading listeners to believe they’ve expanded their palette quite considerably. Whether it’s the slow moving, syrupy build of “Bilar” or the weeping drift of “Mahalo,” Ratattat certainly feels more comfortable than they did on LP3. In fact, their more up-tempo numbers have become even more captivating, especially when it comes to the spazzy beats and synthetic fluttering of “Drugs.” Unfortunately, their arrangements operate on the surface, and the atmospheres aren’t nearly as immersive as they’d like you to think. For lack of a better way to say it, Mast and Stroud still write songs like Ratatat, almost to a fault. While they always come off as bright and upbeat, and maybe a little Legend of Zelda inspired, it’s clear that their reliance on organic instrumentation is to cover up their idling sound. It’s too bad; because Ratatat always show promise with their blurry take on electro rock. Perhaps if they blurred some more boundaries, they’d stumble on their watershed work.

Key Cuts: Drugs, Mahalo, Sunblocks

Metallica- Death Magnetic (*****)

Metallica have never been satisfied with being the band the public wanted them to be.

While their 1991 self-titled album made them into superstars, they spent a majority of the 90s trying to distance themselves from their 80s output.

1996’s Load and it’s sister album RELoad found the Four Horsemen flirting with bluesy overtones that sharply contrasted their thrash roots. In addition, they released a covers collection, had a live bout with the San Francisco Symphony, and attempted to cleanse their inner demons with 2003’s critically dismissed St. Anger.

So, what does one make of Death Magnetic, an album that was promised to be a return to their 80s roots as well as their first with bassist Robert Trujillo?

Well for one, it’s an album that is focused, lean, and incredibly baroque. While producer Rick Rubin encouraged the band to capture the energy they had during the making of 1986’s Master Puppets, Death Magnetic seems to draw more from their 1988 album …And Justice For All, with its progressive leanings and constantly shifting melodies.

Guitarists James Hetfield and Kirk Hammett trade off staccato and crunchy riffs that stutter and stop on a dime, infusing them with dual harmonies and frantic urgency. The album’s opening track “That Was Just Your Life” explodes with thick lumbering riffs and hard-hitting drums from Lars Ulrich, all capped by a blistering solo from Hammett.

For 40 year old men, they’re playing like they’re 20.

Death Magnetic revels in arrangements that average around the seven-minute mark, compositions that twist and turn with effortless ease and precision. Metallica throw in chugging breaking downs and rapid time changes that don’t feel rushed or pasted; as if they’ve rediscovered their love for the complex song craft that marked their earlier works.

And this newfound youthfulness can be attributed two key factors: the addition of Trujillo to the fold and Hetfield’s returned confidence.

Trujillo’s perhaps best known for his work with the Suicidal Tendencies, but he brings that punk energy to Death Magnetic in truckloads. Tracks like “The End Of The Line” successfully showcase Trujillo’s ear for dynamics as well as how powerful his mammoth bass is. He locks in, with a sense head-banging grooves and smooth delivery, adding fullness Metallica’s sound.

Elsewhere, Hetfield has begun to mine what made his 80s lyrics so powerful. After coming across as desperate and neurotic on St. Anger, Hetfield’s growl returns with anger and authority. While he’s always had one of the most dominate voices in heavy metal, he seems comfortable for the first time here since Metallica’s self-titled album, and that presence really ties these songs together.

Lyrically, Hetfield laments on death and decay on Death Magnetic and the images he conjures up are incredibly visceral, while avoiding macabre clichés. On “Cyanide,” Hetfield presents us with such striking images as, “A narrow freshly broken ground/A concrete angel laid right down/Upon the moon that swallows fast/It’s peace at last…”

It’s refreshing, after the communal lyrical input that marked St. Anger, that Hetfield has finally settled into a comfort zone with his writing.

“The Judas Kiss” expertly features Hetfield’s sinister swagger with lines such as, “Bow down!/Sell your soul to me!/I will set you free!/Pacify your demons!” Against an onslaught of Iron Maiden-inspired guitar lines and dissonant starts and stops, “The Judas Kiss” builds into an eerie blend of wah-soaked atmospherics and deep drumming.

And unlike the raw and caustic production on St. Anger, Rubin has kept things bone dry on Death Magnetic without sacrificing warmth. Trujillo’s bass rumbles. Hammett’s guitar sears, and Ulrich’s drums are commanding. The venomous “Cyanide” illustrates this best, with movements that effectively showcase clean guitar tones, but are juxtaposed with dirty riffs, booming bass, and rolling drum lines.

But for all this talk of returning to their roots, Metallica hasn’t forsaken what made their music compelling in the 90s. “The Day That Never Comes” revisits their exploration texture and dynamics with shimmering leads and a massive chorus, before it launches into a mess of punk riffing and fluid arpeggios.

The band also reexamines “The Unforgiven” with “The Unforgiven III,” channeling bludgeoning blues riffs alongside Ennio Morricone influenced strings. The result is something more than a mere sequel, but a track that evokes a sense isolation and self-reflection as it slowly culminates into fiery Hammett solo.

Yet this aspect of self-reflection is why Death Magnetic succeeds.

Metallica have finally begun to be comfortable with who they are as musicians as well as their legacy. These songs don’t just represent music that comes easily to them or a regression, but represents a synthesis of what they excelled at in the 80s as well as what they’ve learned from their experimentation in the 90s.

The album’s third track, “Broken, Beat & Scarred” exemplifies this philosophy for Metallica. A staggering six minutes and 26 seconds of fluid double bass drumming, snarling bass, and an avalanche of sharp guitar lines; it features Hetfield’s gruff vocals as he shouts, “You rise/You fall/You’re down and you rise again/What don’t kill ya/Make ya more strong!”

And with an album like Death Magnetic, it seems Metallica will be going strong for a very long time.

Sounds Like: Rust In Peace (Megadeth), …And Justice For All (Metallica), Core (Stone Temple Pilots)

Key Cuts: That Was Just Your Life, Broken Beat & Scarred, Cyanide

Click the artwork to sample some of Death Magnetic for yourself!

Author's Note: This review appears in a recent issue of the Sonoma State Star. As this is the author's own writing and this is his own blog, in addition to holding the position of A&E Editor for the Sonoma State Star, he posts it here with express consent of himself. Duh.

In Flames- A Sense Of Purpose (*****)

Consistency is a difficult thing to find the world of metal music.

Bands are the constant mercy of their fickle fan base. For the multitude of flash in the pan one-hit wonders, this fear forces bands the progress in two very specific ways. They can either attempt to experiment with sounds or instruments that aren’t native to metal music, or they can attempt to simply make a heavier record than their predecessor.

Either extreme can spell disaster but bands that steadily tinker within their established sound, in addition to growing as song-writers, tend to be the ones that last the longest.

Sweden’s In Flames are no exception.

A Sense of Purpose, the band’s ninth studio album together and it all at once is a step forward for the band as well as a humble look back at their distinct take on melodic death metal. The band’s new material excels at climbing melodies, thunderous drumming, and arena-sized choruses. Yet it has a subtle but evident shift in sound that allows for rich atmospheric touches and seamless musical transitions.

The band recorded the songs in their Gothenburg based studio and decided to self-produce this album like 2006’s Come Clarity.

And from the sounds of things, the band doesn’t really require and outside producer. A Sense Of Purpose greatly benefits from immaculate production, allowing listeners to absorb the wonderfully textured moments on the album.

Every squealing arpeggio and grinding riff is given enough space to breathe in these compositions, with nothing overpowering the mix. Fans can actually feel Peter Iwers’ growling bass work unlike other contemporary metal bands that needlessly bury their bass lines. Nuanced electronic touches add depth, while seamless transitions to intricate acoustic guitar passages make for an incredibly dynamic listen.

The album’s first single, “The Mirror’s Truth,” serves as the perfect introduction to the material. Frantic, palm muted notes, lead into Daniel Svensson’s explosive machine-like drumming as the song simply takes off. Elsewhere, Anders Fridén’s vocals grate and tear alongside the harmonized fretwork of guitarists Bjöm Gelotte and Jesper Strömblad.

For a band that’s been around since the mid-nineties, there isn’t anything on A Sense Of Purpose that feels sloppily thrown together or rehashed. The band takes care to make the tracks immediate and urgent, with lightning quick time changes and colorful solos that suit the compositions.

“Sleepless Again” finds the band leading off with a stunningly rich acoustic guitar before the crunching grit of Gelotte and Strömblad strike again. The track exhibits some of the best guitar work on the album, capped with a tumultuous solo that seems to move the song upwards before gently cascading down in an air of calm. The humming feedback adds just the right touch of atmosphere to really grip the listener’s attention.

Lyrically, Fridén is still preoccupied with the themes of alienation, subjugation, salvation, and insanity but implements articulate prose to get his point across. The crashing, groove oriented “Alias,” finds In Flames channeling their fascination for thick hammering guitar lines and catchy keyboards. It’s against this bludgeoning backdrop that Fridén’s tortured howl spills out lines such as “Don’t tell me/Tell my ghost/Cuz I blame him for all I/Don’t want to know…”

Despite how well refined In Flames sound on the album, the real treat is where the band decides to experiment with longer and more progressive song structures. “The Chosen Pessimist” is the epic centerpiece of the album. The brooding track builds from darkly tinged open notes in conjunction with spidery melodies and dense synthesizers.

It’s the longest recorded In Flames song to date, but it’s one of their biggest sounding as well. The track is a tragic statement about futility and fate, with Fridén’s vocal delivery ranging from quiet desperation to passionate anguish. At around the six minute mark, the band locks onto a solid groove with such expansive and encompassing zeal, that it’s simply awe-inspiring as the song falls into white noise.

The album remains consistent through out, never running into repetition but keeping the tracks lean and focused. From the percussive roll of “Condemned” to the driving rhythms of “Disconnected,” it’s clear that In Flames set out to make the tracks link together sonically, but differentiate from one in other in song structure.

And ultimately, this is what separates In Flames from the myriad of other bands in the metal world. A Sense Of Purpose is the sound of a band that has a clear vision for their sound, as well as enough control to know how to expand it. The album is a brave step forward for the band’s song writing in addition to a clear display of their strengths.

In Flames have crafted an album that finds them reaching onward and outward, and consequently, A Sense Of Purpose is the sound of a band that’s pushing the limits of their sound while continuing to deliver quality songs.

Sounds Like: Reroute To Remain (In Flames), Powerslave (Iron Maiden), Master Of Puppets (Metallica)

Key Cuts: Sleepless Again, Alias, The Chosen Pessimist

Author's Note: This review appears in a recent issue of the Sonoma State Star. As this is the author's own writing and this is his own blog, in addition to holding the position of A&E Co-Editor for the Sonoma State Star, he posts it here with express consent of himself. Duh.