Record Reviews

Danielson

originally published May 31, 2006

If you don’t review CDs, you probably don’t have the experience of first being thoroughly invested in a band (or whatever you’d call the collection of projects Dan Smith heads up), requesting its new album for review and then sitting on it for months, grasping for something to say. It’s harder when it’s someone whose music you’ve committed to, let alone someone who hasn’t done anything that disappointed you yet. And harder still when you’re cool with that person doing something different, and yet the new thing just won’t grab you.

All this means that Ships is difficult in a way no other Danielson Famile or Brother Danielson album is. Smith hasn’t scaled back his ambitions or attempted to normalize his voice (though the production is far too smooth at times, with bass in particular that sounds like it could almost be backing Norah Jones), but it's more that something hasn’t been achieved. The metaphor of the self as ship (or seafarer), tossed helpless on the waves of the world, clinging to the Cross as to a mast, is no doubt one that Smith knows, but this doesn’t bear that out. Ditto for the use of the ship as a vehicle for the righteous (Dante’s dead bound for Heaven arrive in one, singing hymns of praise in unison), but the songs don’t have that kind of direction.

Fluxblog's Matthew Perpetua suggested that the change may be due to the increased presence of Sufjan Stevens this time around, and there’s something to that. Stevens’ mushier, more watery Christianity is nice if you’re frightened of fire and conviction, and it works with his soft appreciative songs, but it seems to have blunted Smith’s larger joy into a less shaped, less directed creation.

Hillary Brown Danielson is playing at the 40 Watt Club on Tuesday, July 4.

Hillary Brown

Danielson is playing at the 40 Watt Club on Tuesday, July 4.

Record Reviews

Unavox

originally published May 31, 2006

What exactly compelled this Athens band to move to California (before moving back) is anyone’s guess, because I know for a fact that there is a contingent of music fans in town that would be all over what Unavox is doing. And what this band does is make very competent, keyboard and guitar based electro-pop. Having much more in common with post-Black Celebration Depeche Mode than, really, anyone else this new EP by the band is a decent outing.

The opening track “RITR” has only one major flaw and that’s the transitions between the parts of the song. After coming in strong with the keyboard, rhythm and guitar, the band drops out completely a couple of times to reintroduce the keyboard and bassist Meggan Cooper’s backing vocals. It’s either badly edited or badly constructed, and in any case, the track loses all potential impact.

The EP's title track suffers only from a nearly 40-second introduction of soft, empty space, but progresses nicely into a distorted guitar mass punctuated with distinctive ringing keyboard notes. A solid rhythm and emotional vocals round out the track, making it one of the EP's more solid.

The third track worth attention is the final cut. On “What Still Remains,” vocalist Micheal Murray shines; his voice is much higher in the mix than on the other songs. Although I don’t like how aggressive the music gets at some points - the song actually loses some power through this - I understand what the band is going for. Sonically, this type of music requires very nice studios and very fancy equipment to fully capture what the band like this wants, and Unavox hasn’t quite gotten there yet. But, if Angels Dance Upwards is evidence of the direction this group it heading, I hope it continues forward.

Gordon Lamb

Gordon Lamb

Record Reviews

The Shut-Ups

originally published May 31, 2006

The Shut-Ups have always created very clever, hook-filled songs. With The Stud Album, however, they’ve really upped the ante. Gone are the easily comparable, easily categorized types of songs. On this record the band has synthesized all influences down to a sound that is, while not entirely unique, certainly closer.

Opening with “Other Bands,” the Shut-Ups run lyrics admonishing the audience for listening to, well, other bands. The piano melody is pretty and a schmaltzy guitar solo wails over the melody a couple of minutes into the track. The standout track on The Stud Album is “Becky B. (It’s Summer).” It’s a tightly-wound guitar-pop song with a rising chorus, nervous and jerky verse parts, and lyrics that are simultaneously very dirty and somewhat romantic. But, that’s just the way The Shut-Ups do things.

Lyrically, well, the band has only increased its level of gut-punch humor and tongue-poking. There’s an intelligence at work here, though, that places the Shut-Ups well above other acts that think they’re being funny. Simply, the Shut-Ups are funny. But, they’re also no joke. Check out these lyrics: “Why do you listen to other bands? / Why are they not discarded? / Might you be squarer than a bell-bottom wearer? / might you be retarded?” or “I’m the boy with the blue goatee / Thrift store corduroys for me / I’ve slicked my hair back / In case they stare back.”

The Shut-Ups' brand of guitar pop and rock is becoming more and more a thing the band owns and, as such, The Stud Album is the most cohesive collection of songs produced by the local group so far. Even those folks who generally cringe at the idea of humor-laden rock music must admit the tunes on here are so tight and catchy that the lyrics are immaterial to enjoying the songs. If you don't pay attention, however, you’ll be missing out on half of The Shut-Ups experience.

Gordon Lamb The Shut-Ups are playing at Lunch Paper on Thursday, June 1.

Gordon Lamb

The Shut-Ups are playing at Lunch Paper on Thursday, June 1.

Record Reviews

The Walkmen

originally published May 31, 2006

There was a time when The Walkmen really meant something. Used to be, back when New York was the hip epicenter of indie cool, these five well-dressed gentlemen could be considered part of the NYC Holy Trinity alongside The Strokes and Interpol. Of course, times have changed, and for whatever reason, people seem to understand now that New York bands are a dime a dozen. But that doesn’t stop The Walkmen from cranking out quality material.

A Hundred Miles Off is just that, and much like its two predecessors, this album finds the band offering up a breath of fresh air in a musical climate (read: white boys with guitars) that can oftentimes come off sound-alike, or worse, redundant as all hell.

One thing that hasn’t changed is that Hamilton Leithauser is still stretching his raspy voice to the brink of insanity. His gravel-throated stoner vox is adapting with the rest of the band though, and at times, emulates Bob Dylan in rapid fire, whiny delivery (this is a good thing). Meanwhile, many of the vintage fallbacks, such as the tired-but-lovely piano sound of "Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me is Gone" have been replaced with punk rock drumming and a horn section.

You could argue that The Walkmen were riding a wave of NYC renaissance when they bounded onto the scene in 2002. But you would be wrong. A Hundred Miles Off shows a band still in transition, not ready to get boxed into any one sound.

Austin L. Ray

Austin L. Ray

Record Reviews

Music Hates You

originally published May 31, 2006

It’s been a long time coming, but the debut album from Athens’ Music Hates You is worth the wait. Blurring the lines between metal, punk and hardcore, Music Hates You has crafted a more than decent album with only a few missteps. Although this type of music (i.e. incredibly loud, guttural and viciously angry) has yet to be embraced by the Athens hipster set, Music Hates You has no pretensions about desiring or expecting such acceptance.

The live favorite “How Do I Get Him The Fuck Out Of My Living Room?” starts the album off, and it grinds back and forth with the band dropping in and out of both melody and harmony. This track, as well as a couple of others on the album, utilizes the loud/quiet formula done best by Nirvana (although Music Hates You has clearly absorbed more Slayer than Kurt Cobain’s beloved Pixies).

From this point, there's no let up in the band's playing. Music Hates You becomes heavily melodic and catchy even when buried underneath layers of unbelievably heavy guitars. The title track is easily the best, most distinctive track on the album. With Noah Ray’s from-the-gut vocals, sounding more like a threat than an anguished revery, and the band's full-on driving rhythm, the song sounds more like it’s going to run you over rather than invite you along for the ride.

There are a couple of things about this album that bother me, but they don’t concern the music. First, the artwork makes it difficult to determine which songs are which in the middle part of the album (is the song called “Here Goat” or is it two different songs?). The lack of a lyric sheet is pretty frustrating, also, because any listener would want to know what the hell is going on when the passion is raised so high in the vocals, but it sadly all gets lost.

Music Hates You simply rocks, and doesn’t rock simply. A mountain of thought was put into this album and the band plays with an intensity not easily faked. This is the music you hear coming from teenagers' cars in the parking lots of fast-food restaurants and rural high schools. Say what you want, but rock and roll has always, thank God, been for the kids.

Gordon Lamb Music Hates You is playing at Tasty World on Saturday, June 3. See feature [here].

Gordon Lamb

Music Hates You is playing at Tasty World on Saturday, June 3. See feature [here].

Record Reviews

Johnny Watson

originally published May 31, 2006

Johnny Watson’s new independently released self-titled album is an engaging forest of melodies and instrumentation that floats over an obvious Neutral Milk Hotel influence while maintaining an individual, DIY feel. I usually shrink from comparing artists to other artists, but the clear Elephant Six association is attributable to Watson’s use of layered vocals and woodwind/ brass additions to most songs. There are catchy hooks and a poppy feel on most tracks that could lend themselves to radio play for a broad audience, but with an unmistakable sneering rictus of experimentation that keeps Watson’s songs interesting after quite a few listens.

Recording over the winter of 2005, Watson played most of the instruments by himself a la 4-track, tethering them into the simple, pretty little cellophane-wrapped offering released last month. Like the inside of a skull, this album is, start to finish, a complex maelstrom of emotions and moods. It breathes as a cogent whole, and is boundlessly more enjoyable when taken as such.

The original press includes two bonus tracks, "Address" and "Krunk-Nations," which differ entirely from the established personality of the first eight tracks. Here we have a more humorous Watson steeped in beats and rhymes.

This is an album that screams debut release - an artist still searching for a groove, trying on various coats before stepping into the theater. Promise glimmers around the edges, and we can look forward to new adventures with this fledgling Athenian artist under his own name and as half of newly formed gang punk duo Goodness Gracious.

David Commins

David Commins

Record Reviews

Wes McDonald

originally published May 31, 2006

Formerly of local onetime next-big-thing The Ohms, Wes McDonald has made an impressive showing as a solo artist since relocating to Birmingham a few years back. McDonald’s latest and fourth solo release, 1:50 in the Furnace, continues his swerve down a road littered with distorted jittery guitars, self-deprecating lyrics and catchy power pop-laden melodies.

An album shot full of windmill guitar riffs, husky harmony vocals and intermittent background chimes, 1:50 in the Furnace chucks the reckless ethos of Westerberg, Townshend and Black Francis into a trash compactor resulting in a great mish-mosh of slacker guitar rock and rebellious “don’t give a damn” prerogative. “Gonna need skills or we’re gonna get killed,” McDonald hisses on the swirling “Chinese Rug” and, after preaching its intro like an inebriated Tom Waits, “All Revved Up” takes McDonald and band one cup of coffee over the line.

McDonald is an obvious student of guitar pop’s basement-dwelling roll call of years past, but this outing shows, above all, that in a few years his name too could very well wind up on that list - hopefully not for erratic off-stage antics or an abrupt career lag, but for the smartly written/ arranged, charismatically performed and stick-to-your-cerebral-cortex rock that 1:50 in the Furnace exudes so well.

Michael Andrews

Michael Andrews

Record Reviews

Dilated Peoples

originally published May 31, 2006

Here’s a massive generalization for you: most rappers who can be filed under “backpacker” are either from New York or adopt a New York style - that is, simplicity of backing tracks and a more aggressive flow. And if you’re concerned with the downturn the culture has taken (a frequent topic, though why being intelligent necessarily leads to denigration of the status quo isn’t entirely clear), you’re likely to move in that direction because it’s considered the foundation of rap.

Dilated Peoples is a little different, and illustrates how the field of “consciousness rap” is expanding its borders in the present. You can say, for example, that Talib Kweli (New York), Common (Chicago) and Little Brother (North Carolina) all fall under the same large heading, while bringing diverse sounds to play. Dilated Peoples sounds like California, with sharpened clinky keyboards, the kind of circular song structures that lend themselves to a place with a lot of highways and a slightly obsessive concern with the varieties of marijuana. But 20/20 does double duty, as both a kind of green that theoretically clears your vision and the group’s desire to enlighten you on the current state of things. Does it do a decent job mixing stoner philosophy with coherent political musings? It does pretty well, but the album’s not terrifically cohesive, held together by a series of brief skits about smoking weed.

There are isolated tracks that could make you both bounce and take notice (“Alarm Clock Music,” “Kindness for Weakness”), and it’s nice to hear some well-done scratching, but, while it’s a step in the right direction (good lyrics and good sound), it’s not well-constructed enough to make much of an impact with anyone who’s not already a fan.

Hillary Brown

Hillary Brown

Record Reviews

Bird Show

originally published May 31, 2006

I saw Ben Vida perform as Bird Show last spring in Atlanta with drone luminaries Keith Fullerton Whitman and Greg Davis. It was an entrancing performance (if you're into zoning and blissing out for 90 minutes). Vida impressed me especially because he didn't merely round out the sounds produced by the two veterans. The rookie actually changed the show into something else entirely. Green Inferno, Bird Show's debut, took the drone genre and wove ethnic and tribal layers into the drifting tapestry, achieving a perfect balance between Animal Collective's mutated pop and Whitman's processed sound.

Now with Lightning Ghost, Vida has chosen a path, and the seesaw has tottered to the pop side. Vocals are prominent throughout the nine tracks, and at first listen, this truly is a pop record. It's on repeated listens or through headphones that the illusion breaks. Lightning Ghost is not as immediately exciting or awe-inspiring as its predecessor, but beneath the strummed guitars and vocal melodies and tribal percussion lies just as much strange cargo. The strange insistent squeals riding beneath the hypnotic intoning of "Seeds," the clattering multitude of percussion on "Beautiful Spring," the Eastern vibe carrying the stunning vocals of "Sleepers Keep Sleeping." The overall feeling I get is a heavy Caribou/ Manitoba spirit, if Dan Snaith did way more drugs.

I can't say this reaches the heights of Green Inferno, but it's yet another triumph for a recently very active Kranky. If any of the aforementioned artists are too mellow - or not mellow enough - Bird Show can scratch your itch.

Michael Wehunt

Michael Wehunt