Ice Cream Socialists

Belles & Missiles

Blind as a Bat

originally published September 6, 2006

In this era of nu-twee, you can suddenly think of something as "twee" without assuming it's also "embarrassing." Partially this is because instead of playing regular music badly (and un-aggressively) like the K Records crew of yore, bands like the Decemberists and the Danielsen Famile sound like an ensemble of precocious middle-school band students, competent and clean. More importantly, their lyrics avoid golden-age twee's boldfaced juvenilia for more diaphanous subjects: literature, American history, religion, and, uh, whatever the hell Daniel Smith is singing about. (Notably, Smith only became respectable within indie rock when he gave up the high-pitched, hyper-hypo vocals and weird lyrics of his Danielsen Famile albums for the lower-pitched simple mysteriosos of his solo album.)

Musically, the seven Athens musicians in Ice Cream Socialists fall firmly within this tradition; you hear toy piano and accordion, the drums sound like your kid brother practicing in the orchestra room, and the best adjective overall is "jaunty." But while the songs on the debut album Belles & Missiles are lean, mean and inventive, the lyrics are about cats, birds, school and robots. We're back in K waters, minus twee's redeeming quality: sexuality. And okay, they quote both Pachelbel's "Canon" and "Chopsticks," and that's both musical and embarrassing.

But, ICS rocks that Canon out, and it's saying something that on an album with an average track time of about two minutes, you still lose your way. The band has a real knack for structure, inventive but not proggy, throwing bits of songs and interludes together in a way that flows but doesn't repeat. Unfortunately, this talent doesn't necessarily extend to arrangements, and the flow here stems in part from a monotonous tone.

They're best when broken down, as in the beginning of "Bird'z Tale" (birds) and the end of "Zagnut's Revenge" (robots?). But the standout track is also the longest: "Day of the Danny," which comes in at 3:43 and starts with extremely cringey lyrics ("kiss the girls by the water fountain," iee!) but only gets better, with a quiet, metrically interesting pre-chorus that slides into a chant of "We will become / astronauts when we're older / we will become / human fireflies," then a faster part and another verse and Stephanie Davis' violin break, and then back into a bunch of repetitions of the chant/ chorus. That's one of the few times on the album the Ice Cream Socialists let a section ride a cappella until interrupted by an absolutely awesome drum/ bass hit from Payton Bradford and Brantley Jones, and then a rocking coda. It all fits together way better than it should, and is remarkably effective; it makes the lyrics work.

In context, Ice Cream Socialists may be slightly dangerous, but in the abstract, these guys are worth a listen.

Michael Barthel Ice Cream Socialists are playing a CD release show upstairs at Tasty World on Friday, Sept. 8.

Michael Barthel

Ice Cream Socialists are playing a CD release show upstairs at Tasty World on Friday, Sept. 8.

Mellowdrone

Box

3 / Red Ink / Sony BMG

originally published September 6, 2006

I have a proposition for all you rock bands out there. Now, you know that unless you're AC/DC or Elliott Smith, a good rock album should have a variety of different songs: a fast, rockin' number to kick things off, then a slow, relaxing song to contrast the rockin' songs, little interludes to change the pace, and mid-tempo songs to get radio play, right?

Thing is, very few bands nowadays can do all of these different kinds of songs well, and when they try and make albums full of nothing but their strong suit, it's samey in sound and uneven in quality. So why doesn't everybody get together, here during rock's waning days, and pool their talents? Coldplay could trade songs with Blink-182, Audioslave could team up with Death Cab for Cutie, and Fountains of Wayne and Sigur Rós could give little bits to everyone. The net result: better albums for all!

In this rock-and-roll workers' paradise, Mellowdrone would produce the mid-tempo songs. The band is very good at this (the name is accurate, if damning) but not much else. Certainly not singing - the naked lady on this album's cover is the most exciting thing about Box. Mellowdrone delves beyond the traditional rock format, but ends up where many mainstream bands found themselves the late-'90s: a sort of trip-hop/industrial wasteland that appeals only to program directors. When we drop our pretensions and structure rock like a pop machine in preparation for its revitalization, Mellowdrone will play a valuable part; until then, however, the band is best avoided.

Michael Barthel Mellowdrone is playing at the 40 Watt Club on Friday, Sept. 8.

Michael Barthel

Mellowdrone is playing at the 40 Watt Club on Friday, Sept. 8.

Over It

Step Outside Yourself

Virgin

originally published September 6, 2006

Over It is one of those “should” bands that should be selling millions of records, that should have a song on the radio and that should have a video on MTV. Hopefully the band’s new album will help accomplish just that.

Step Outside Yourself picks up right where Over It’s 2005 effort Silverstrand left off (minus the large helping of California sunshine) and honestly, there’s no better place to start. Whereas Over It used to be just another punk band, the members, now California residents (but Virginia natives), have transformed themselves into a slick rock band and have demonstrated this change on their last two releases.

The new album kicks off with “Think Against the Grain,” whose mini-breakdowns suggest that the remaining 12 tracks are going to be a lot harder than they are. Although Step Outside Yourself is, comparatively speaking, a little edgier and heavier than Silverstrand, by no means is it a dark or heavy album. It’s still full of heavily-produced, melodic and infectious rock songs that will provide a perfect soundtrack to end the summer. “Siren on the 101" is the only song to make the jump from Silverstrand and it sounds as huge and anthemic as ever. Guest vocals from Mike Herrera of MxPx and Sean Mackin of Yellowcard pop up on the rockin’ “Dishonor Disorder” and the poppy “The Energy,” respectively. Some of the highlights include “Where the Sky Begins,” “Feels Like Affection (Turn It Up)” and the sunny album ender “Like Satellites.”

Though Step Outside Yourself is one of those albums where every track is solid and there’s not a single song that requires use of the fast-forward button, “Lost” is out of place amongst the rest of the songs, sounding more like an '80s monster ballad than a SoCal rock song. Regardless, Over It shines on this major-label debut.

Leah Weinberg Over It is playing at the Masquerade in Atlanta on Friday, Sept. 8.

Leah Weinberg

Over It is playing at the Masquerade in Atlanta on Friday, Sept. 8.

Outkast

Idlewild

LaFace

originally published September 6, 2006

Cut in half, Idlewild might be great, but it would also most certainly be lesser. Outkast hasn’t made the catchiest album out there, and there is a palpable absence of joy, something the duo captured ridiculously well before; what they have done is managed to make the listener feel a double narrative, even without seeing the movie for which this album is the soundtrack. One can grasp the plotline of the theatrical release reasonably well through the songs (André 3000 = Percy, Big Boi = Rooster; they both perform in a 1930s club, and there are love stories and ups and downs), but running on the next track over is some kind of subtler, quieter machine that hums with why they made an album (and a movie) like this rather than sticking to what they do better.

It’s elusive, but it speaks of exhaustion with the state of the world and a desire to retreat into nostalgia rather than deal with reality, the problem is that it’s not a very interesting nostalgia. Actually, it’s pretty much the same plot as the “Once More with Feeling” episode of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," which featured similar notes of weariness, darkness and sadness. By the time one reaches “Makes No Sense” at all, which spins faster and faster in a form of hysteria, the only real moment of relaxation and happiness (“Morris Brown”) is a distant memory. “The Train” tries to hit the same heights, and the attempt is appreciated, but it strikes the listener as a put-on, a veneer of cheerfulness or lessons learned to reprise over the credits as you leave the theater.

The end, “A Bad Note,” makes one witness to the void, all disharmony and no structure, and leaves one with a bitter taste in one’s mouth. Why, boys? You’re clearly still capable of doing something extremely interesting, but is the pressure so strong that you can’t relax and give us a little more of what we want? Get a massage. Have a glass of champagne. Lower your self-expectations and get back to some love.

Hillary Brown

Hillary Brown

The Essex Green

Cannibal Sea

Merge

originally published September 6, 2006

The Essex Green has pulled off an interesting trick with its album Cannibal Sea in that it has made an album that is utterly unmemorable. With most albums, you can at least recall the genre or general mood, even if you're not humming any of the tunes while walking down the street, but here, you're honestly left with no recollection of even which of the most rudimentary elements of music it included. You assume that it has rhythm and tonality, but who knows?

In a way, this is a selling point - every time you listen to the album, it's a fresh surprise! But surprises don't write record reviews. So let's start from the outside and see if we can deduce the contents. The cover art is actually very nice, with toothy waves made from paper, but the credits are little help: "The Essex Green Are: Jeff Baron, Sasha Bell, Christopher Ziter" and then just "Players," which tells us nothing aside from it's probably not hardcore (the "players" number 11). So we play the album, and aha! It's kind of like Belle & Sebastian, although hearing the singer scream "I WAS REHEARSING FOR THE ILIAD!" over a thrashy pound would've been arguably more fun.

When you do listen close, Cannibal Sea is actually okay, with a song that sounds like a union ballad ("Rabbit") and a song where the singer sings along with the organ ("Cardinal Points") and a reasonably energetic one ("Don't Know Why (You Stay)") but then, "okay" isn't even interesting anymore, is it?

Michael Barthel

Michael Barthel