Glen Phillips
The Secrets of the New Explorers
Umami
originally published July 9, 2008
I don't think I've ever fully gotten "concept albums," but the idea of a concept EP was immediately attractive to me - mostly because I have debilitating ADD, and there's never really been an album about a single idea that's ever held my attention past about midway through it. Glen Phillips (former Toad the Wet Sprocket frontman) has put out an EP titled Secrets of the New Explorers that's an ideally concise six songs long, and it's all about space travel. I'm not kidding, it's actually all about space travel.
What's kind of shocking is that Secrets of the New Explorers is pretty perfect. Sure there are songs that are better than others. "Solar Flare," for instance, is just awesome. The simplistic lyrics sound like they could've been written by a 10-year-old Phillips lying on his bed and dreaming of soaring through space one day. "Space Elevator" almost sounds like a Ween track; not quite as bizarre as Ween, but it has a chorus that's corny (in a good way), and the backing music is as funky as I've ever heard Phillips create. "The Spirit of Shackleton" and "A Dream" come across a little campy, but I've heard a lot worse - especially music supposedly in praise of, or influenced by, the concept of space. It's a pretty lofty subject, and you should expect at least a little over the top "awe" music here and there. Phillips simply manages to write about space in myriad ways in the span of only six songs. Nice job.
Glen Phillips plays the Melting Point on Friday, July 11.
Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra and Tra-La-La Band
13 Blues for Thirteen Moons
Constellation
originally published July 9, 2008
It's certainly no surprise to anyone following the trajectory of Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra and Tra-La-La Band that there's more singing and more rocking on the fifth full-length. The primary branch of the Godspeed You! Black Emperor tree dropped its first pinecone in 2000, existing apart from the trunk as little more than a far smaller combo, predictably summoning music that was more intimate and more beautiful. As the band gained inches to its name and members to its ranks, de facto leader Efrim Menuck began singing his perfectly off-key heart out, and the dynamics of the whole Montreal post-rock scene shifted a millimeter.
2005's Horses in the Sky found the group's body of work far surpassing that of its fellow scene members. But that album's ferocity and increased vocal focus is nothing compared to 13 Blues for Thirteen Moons. This album absolutely burns - brimming with rock-god power and then spilling all over your shag carpet. "1,000,000 Died to Make This Sound" tricks you into a sense of complacency for a few minutes before exploding in your face, and the pounding just keeps coming.
But, just as ever, that inimitably bleak yet gorgeous tone remains throughout - that Montreal-ness these people helped mold in the first place. And by the time "Blindblindblind" arrives to finish things, and you're drenched in sweat and smiling broadly, the palpable sense of hope that many have (falsely) accused the band of lacking leaves you gasping with that life-affirming end-of-a-great-movie feeling.
Nethers
What the Wind Will Never Tell
Izniz Recordings
originally published July 9, 2008
The Nethers bring melancholic modern folk-pop that's unafraid to embrace a melody in these drone-heavy times and smart enough to forego the feather-headed histrionics of what’s come to be called “freak-folk.” It's not bad coffee-drinking music. For what it's worth, it's pleasant, mostly-upbeat tuneage that could harmonize rightly with the first thing of a morning. If I woke up on a Tuesday and for some reason had geometry homework to do, this’d do just fine.
Recorded capably in L.A. by some dude whose name is supposed to ring a bell of mine, it has all the trimmings endemic to the subgenre: turned-in introspection focused mostly on the really sad differences between the lonely city and a life in Bucolia; twinklin’ tambos and bassdrums a-thumping; tremulous harmonies and a somewhat esoteric instrumentation that attempts to texturally elevate this above the dime-a-dozen epitome with which it still so plainly equates.
Lead singer Nikki West’s alto isn't dissimilar to Athens’ own siren Madeline, and she’s got elocution, thankfully, that avoids the faux-country play-acting that suede-fringed Oberlin grads seem lately to truck in. I’d hazard that West appreciates Rodgers and Hammerstein, or at least Sandy Denny, and she sounds pretty damn good most of the time.
Problem is, a really shiny dime is really nice to find, but it still won’t buy you much these days, and this record’s general affect compares to this forgettable everyday scenario: nice in the moment that something glimmery grabs your attention, but, generally, how much does it change your day, or even your current color-of-mind, at all?
PacificUV
Longplay 2
Warm
originally published July 9, 2008
Aside from the obligatory hails to R.E.M. and In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, I'd personally buck the Athens trend and choose PacificUV's self-titled debut as my favorite local record... of all time! I still regularly dig it out and marvel at how well the band pulled off the post-rock sound, which even then was a bit tired. While I would have preferred the group change its name to SoutheastUV and stayed in town, the boys relocated some time ago to the Pacific Northwest and shifted their sound a few inches along the spectrum away from the debut.
The string- and piano-laden mood is still firmly present, but there's a looser shoegaze vibe this time out, something hinted at in the past but now more fully realized. While opener "Alarmist" bears the usual taste of more cinematic Explosions in the Sky, a Slowdive breeze drifts through the track before a gorgeous string melody wrenches the song into its ending moments. "Need" smacks of early Spiritualized with spacey effects, gauzy vocals and unfortunate guitar solos. "Waiting" is a genuinely great languid pop song, something that'd fit right in as the ballad on a Ride album.
All in all, the record is a bit too influences-on-sleeve, but there are bursts and sighs of true beauty and compositional power here. It's very difficult not to recommend it. And while the debut admittedly fell prey to its influences, too, it transcended most of them. There's nothing legendary on Longplay 2, but often that's too easy a criticism to throw upon a band.
Jay Reatard
Singles 06-07
Vice
originally published July 9, 2008
This is a groovy compilation of 7"s released by a prolific Memphisian idjit-savant who gallantly attempts at every opportunity to live up to his expository stage name. This is an illuminating collection that does wonders for Jay Reatard’s appeal. The deluxe hodgepodge of home recorded one-offs conveniently presents J.R. as the inventive garage-dwelling creep-genius that current legend holds him as. Where his hyperactive stage-spiel bludgeons you with relentless monotonic sputums of crosseyed snot, his singles are highly evolved, sharply diverse and texturally variegated. Shorn of the goofball haircuts and matching flying Vs, the moronic blur of typical punk-rock distorto-snore and his Ramones-ish sense of brevity, you get a clear-view of what kind of an artist this Reatard actually is. In short: you can hear just what the boy’s all about, and that’s just great.
Here you get shimmery acoustics, arty angles of the halfway-to-Devo variety, adenoidal vocalizing that radiates pure intransigence and some oddball bedrock keyboarding, all of which comes as a cool, colorful surprise if you’re this late to Reatard’s game. He plays everything on every track, all songs clock in at around that perfect two-minute mark (except for the neato Go Betweens cover, which is an opus-like 3:04), and you can absolutely feel how fun it would be to get blotto by yourself with this pile of wax in your lap. This record offers the perfect vista-view into a pissant misanthrope’s solipsistic joystick brainpan.
From First to Last
From First to Last
Suretone/Interscope
originally published July 9, 2008
Hot Topic punk is something that anyone over the age of 25 will never understand. The metal chuga chuga guitars collide with the out in out fury of the booming drums and the whiniest vocals this side of an O-Town album into a sonic storm that leaves this fickle reviewer out in the cold. But somewhere just beneath the surface, after multiple listens to From First to Last’s self-titled album, you realize that the Hot Topic punk bands have less to do with The Clash than they do with Poison. That’s right faithful readers, hair metal never died; it just cut its hair and got its lip pierced.
This isn’t entirely a bad thing. From the beginning track of the album (“Two as One”) to the final minor chord strums of the hilariously whiny “In Memoriam in Advance,” listeners are treated to hummable melodies, air drum worthy blasts of percussion, and hooks so big that they could land Moby Dick. While From First to Last may not be for everyone, the songs aren’t exactly the most repugnant sounds ever laid to tape. Instead, it’s perfectly acceptable listening if you want your music light and thought free.
Think about it this way: “Pour Some Sugar on Me” was mindless drivel and so is From First to Last, but it is drivel that, much like Def Leppard’s aforementioned classic, will fuel someone’s big teenage moment, and that’s not a bad thing at all.
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