Category: Album Reviews

Interpol was a band I always stated was a staple of the “My First Indie Rock” song collection. It was the gateway to the more obscure and weird and experimental artists all along the blogosphere. However, the band hasn’t been as synonymous with that as it used to be. Artists like Arctic Monkeys, Lana Del Rey, Twenty-One Pilots, and the like are the new staples for a new brand of indie rocker. Interpol seems to be pushed back for the youngbloods and because of the mixed opinion on their last album, people thought that Interpol has lost their edge. Longtime listeners stayed with them but there was that hint of doubt. El Pintor is giving a slow, skeptic hope that they will continue being a indie rock standard.

The lead single, “All The Rage Back Home” does show that these guys aren’t getting too ahead of themselves as they produce this fast-paced, surprising, bursty and thrashing song. The guitars just yelling “yehehehehe” in the background is a subtle production dream, and the return of Paul Banks’ voice, untouched by age is something fantastic to hear. “Anywhere” has a cool indie rock aesthetic too. The drums still punch like on Antics and the synthesizers mixed with the high-pitched guitar give a cool sound, but pushes the vocals to the back, something that I’ve criticized shoegaze albums for. “Same Town, New Story” has this weird hammer-on, pull-off riff that actually does it better than “My Desire”. The reverb and pushed back vocals on this give it a deeper sound, something that I haven’t really heard from Interpol before. “Blue Supreme” takes a softer approach, taking about someone who you desire to be. Although at some points it sounds like a Coldplay track.

Most of the album does have some very good music, despite the biggest departure from bassist Carlos Dengler. The duties have been taken over by frontman Paul Banks, but you can hear the difference in change almost immediately. The intricacies of scale and note changes are almost nonexistent here. If you listen to “Obstacle 1” on Turn On the Bright Lights and “Breaker 1” here, the changes are very noticeable. Also, the bass seemed to bring the most out of the vocals, but Banks seems to be all over the place. At one point, he’ll be singing a faded falsetto on “My Blue Supreme”, and then back to his original voice on “Ancient Ways”. “Tidal Wave” teases us with a synthesizer opening and what seems like the opening notes to “Barricade” and leads into another odd combination of falsetto and whatever the hell Paul Banks is supposed to be singing in. And the final track “Twice As Hard” has some pretty cool production on the vocals, but the slow, spacey, tremolo of the song really takes the cake.

Final Verdict: It’s the Interpol we would have liked to see Carlos Dengler on, but for the first time without him, they sound new. If we take out all of the critical acclaim from their previous albums and judged this solely on its own merit, it’s a decent album with some cool production that didn’t need to be completely streamlined for it to work. There’s enough variety in the album to keep it going and it has enough poppy punch to keep you listening to it for a while. Is it the best? No, not at all, but it’s a start in the right direction. I wanna see Interpol become something more than a has-been band, and this album has proved it to me, and should prove it to other avid listeners. I’m a little skeptical that the youngbloods will take these guys over, but I want to see them influence other bands again.

I used to have a noise rock themed radio show in college. It all began when I picked up a copy of Whip It On, the debut EP from The Raveonettes, at a Princeton record store. It honestly blew my mind. The entire EP was written in Bb minor, and drenched in sweet, delicious fuzz. I kept the CD in my car for months. Numerous years and albums later, Danish band, The Raveonettes, have dropped their newest album out of seemingly nowhere. Pe’ahi is an album as powerful as it is pleasant to listen to.

The Raveonettes have had a lot of time to develop their sound over the years. They started as a noise rock band, moved to a 60s rock style, and eventually to the realm of dream pop. This album combines all of the band’s past styles, blending them into one unique voice they can call their own. It is almost a greatest hits album, but with all new material. First of all, the album is wet with reverb, producing a very relaxed feel. The guitars find a proper balance between soothing and jarring. There is a beauty in the chaos that is heavily distorted guitars. A lot of the drum tracks on the album have a hip hop or trip hop feel to them. Some tracks sneak in a little slide guitar and harp, but they are not misused or out of place whatsoever. The dual vocals of Sune Rose Wagner and Sharin Foo shine just as much as when they sing alone.

The Raveonettes never wrote happy songs about dancing in a field of flowers, and they are not about to start. There has always been a dark twist to lyrics from this band, even when exploring topics that should be positive. Lyrical themes cover topics such as Wagner’s difficult relationship with his father, the recent passing of aforementioned father, Wagner’s near drowning experience, and general infidelity. Pe’ahi, the album title, is a popular surfing spot in Maui, Hawaii. The album art features a small, vertical switchblade on a light cyan background. The symbolism here is obvious, and the minimalistic approach of the album art is very much appropriate. Every track shines in its own way on this album but check out “Killer in the Streets” and the first track “Endless Sleeper.” I also find “Sisters” to be an artistically beautiful song.

Good grief this band is hard to look up on the internet. Apparently a lot of things out there like to be number one. Obvious Highlander quote aside, I stumbled across this band and their self-titled debut LP through the typical Bandcamp digging and am happily content. The Number Ones is a Dublin band made of members of other bands from the area. Europe seems to have a lot of musical incest going on these days. Completely acceptable.

This is POWER POP in its purest form. The dirty guitars, dancing bass lines, and crashing cymbals follow a lovable format to whip you back to the late 70s where bands like The Buzzcocks left your appetite fulfilled. I would not be surprised if this album were recorded all in one take, straight through. Despite the rawness of the sound, the band is comfortably tight and well-rehearsed. The lyrics are juvenile in nature. If you are currently a teenager, have ever been a teenager in the past, or intend on being one in the future, these lyrics are not going to change your life.

This album is less than twenty minutes long. A bit unsettling, as it is quite short for a full length release. This brand of music does not demand the longest album lengths, but The Number Ones definitely push it here. All songs are under three minutes, and most are even under two. Together, the ten tracks spell out innocent summer fun. I do not want to mess with specific decimal scores on this one. Solid three and a half stars! Seven outta ten! I really want to hear this band develop in the future. Maybe focus on more mature lyrics and their own sound while sticking to their roots. The band seems like they are really having fun with this album. I really enjoy “Heartsmash” and “Sixteen”. “Girl” is also a solid track.

Debut albums are tricky things to assess. An artist’s first full-length is not a reliable litmus test for how their career will pan out, or in some cases, their artistic validity. But it’s the unique blend of hype and mystery that always makes debuts exciting to listen to. That lack of history combined with the concocted narrative provided by the blogs du jour makes for a first listen that’s brimming with anticipation and yet is a venture into uncharted territory. All of that makes it confusing when a band like Adult Jazz releases something like Gist Is, a debut album that’s refined and familiar but foreign in its precociousness.

Clocking in at nearly an hour with only nine tracks, Gist Is might initially appear to be an exercise to get through. With only one song shorter than four minutes, the band certainly takes the “long player” form to heart. Quite happily, the album hardly drags, as many songs have multiple movements within them, and each song itself plays nicely into the next. These elongated structures allow for the band to really explore and wring out the most from their instruments. There is a real freedom to the interplay between the four musicians, almost bordering on (as cliché as it is to say here) jazziness. Off-kilter rhythms, especially in songs like “Am Gone”, are given dipping accents with economical bass playing, while guitar and vocals dance over top, unafraid to clash with the rhythm section or each other. Guitars and vocals take a huge amount of cues from the David Longstreth School of art rock, dangling off the edge of song structure (though perhaps Mr. Longstreth himself would push these sounds further). This means a lot of skronky electric figures (see “Donne Tongue”) and singing versions of high-wire acts (“Pigeon Skulls”). It makes for highly expressive sounding music that tests the boundaries of its focus without ever really endangering it.

If the album has a lived-in quality to it, that may be due to the fact that it was recorded in The Black Byre, a 16^th century bastle house. The slight reverb of frontman Harry Burgess’ voice at times recalls someone shouting in an empty room, and gives a special feeling of captured reality. Adding to this great “living” sound is the juxtaposition of those performances against interesting studio tricks.  The pitch-shifted vocals on “Hum,” what sounds like the tail end of a chant on “Idiot Mantra”, and the various cut-and-paste, chopped off bits and phrases found throughout make Gist Is feel like both an artifact and alive at the same time.

There are a couple of things to grapple with on this album. There are some jams here that would surely rock the festival crowd. “Springful” has a wonderful palette of sounds and a killer chorus, and “Am Gone” has a lilting summery pace that anyone on Bonnaroo ‘shrooms would wave their hands to. But there’s a certain paint-by-numbers going on here. “Hum” basically could be a James Blake song; the rest of the album arguably sounds as though Grizzly Bear, The xx, and Dirty Projectors collaborated, and the similarities are easy to spot. But it usually makes for a damn good listen, and this is a debut album, so for now, who cares? Better to draw our concern to the lyrics, which are for the most part inscrutable without liner notes. Some lines do stick well, like the opening three from “Am Gone” or these from “Spook”: “and I do not have no will/and I write these songs to trick God/ and I do not take it lightly.” Burgess, who has a good, unique voice, is not afraid to stretch words with onomatopoetic license, or to repeat phrases, or to generally test the limits of the language he uses. But this can and does bloat some of the songs unnecessarily. Also, the fake patois he occasionally uses is an artistic decision that is hard to understand, and comes off as silly.

Gist Is is like IKEA furniture: a collection of modern influences that, when combined, creates something that isn’t earth-shattering but is certainly stylish, and ultimately something you want to live in. Adult Jazz demonstrates a sophistication and assuredness in its sound that is worthy of repeat plays and spending serious time with.

I was on Tumblr the other day when I saw this post called the “Anatomy of Music”. It listed different genres and it gave the general (and very funny) structures of the songs that are associated with them. Indie music was comprised of banjo, twentysomething problems, faster banjo and it made me think of the state we’re in now of indie rock being grouped as just “the genre that The Lumineers share” and no newcomers look for other bands except what’s played on the radio. That’s where this album can hopefully change all of that because They Want My Soul is perfect for being the new staple in the indie rock savant’s collection.

They Want My Soul starts off with the medium-paced single “Rent I Pay” that takes blues to the next level and instead of talking about the twentysomething problems that make indie rock repetitive, it talks more about problems with insomnia, not finding peace and how everything comes back to you no matter what you do, problems in the now rather than the plight of teenage romantics. We then get into the beautifully slow “Inside Out” which shows a bit of the psychedelic side with minimal guitar, soft synthetic harp and a pushed back “mmm” that rides the whole track with the with the treble-reduced production. “Rainy Taxi” has a bassline that makes you remember why Spoon grooved with simplicity and a drum riff that keeps you feeling badass, like walking into a wedding reception and you have more life than the groom. The single “Do You” still has to be my favorite song off of this release. Everything about is brilliantly paced, the triple Britt Daniels’ voices work off of each other gracefully, the little do do dos and hm mm mms paired with the reverberated flute make a dreamy ending that people will try to replicate.

“Knock Knock Knock” has the dark piano, acoustic guitar, ethereal phasing moans and subtle drum groove (paired with an equally sublte flanger) that slowly reveals a tired friendship. “Outlier” is more a instrumental that has a jazz background akin to that of a heist film, and the title track is a hilarious Randy Newman/Sonic the Hedgehog soundtrack sounding song about paranoia that has Daniel shrieking about how card sharks, street preachers, sellers, palm readers, post-sermon socialites, park enchanters in skin tights, educated folk singers and even Jonathan Fisk (from the album Kill the Moonlight) all want his soul. “I Just Don’t Understand”, “Let Me Be Mine” and “New York Kiss” all end the album in different ways, a blues track with enough soul to be a Black Keys track, a traditional indie rock track, and a synthpop track that combines Cut Copy and the traditional sound with glitches and production tricks.

Final Verdict: This is one of the best indie rock albums I’ve heard in a long time and it is the first perfect indie rock album I’ve heard this year. The production tricks are the ones I’ve come to expect from Spoon’s earlier work on Transference while still maintaining an accessible collection of songs that are friendly to all ears. While nothing is as crazy with experimentation as “The Mystery Zone” or “Who Makes Your Money”, They Want My Soul doesn’t need it and its heartfelt soul from Britt Daniels and company is a breath of fresh air in this age of Imagine Dragons hardness and Parachute softness. This’ll be on blast forever at my place.

If you’ve been following the genre since its inception, I’m sure that I don’t have to tell you that pop punk hasn’t always been the emotionally-charged melting pot that it is today. While classic pop punk bands such as Blink-182 may have occasionally ruminated on the nuances of growing up, they ended up spending most of their time writing songs about alien conspiracies and getting stoned, all the while indulging in some of the most sophomoric humor ever to grace a pair of headphones. Hell, one of the most popular singles to ever bring the genre to mainstream radio is about little more than seeking a cure for boredom in the act of… well, we’re all familiar with Green Day’s “Longview”.

On the other hand, nowadays you’ve got acts like the Front Bottoms begging you to kiss your knuckles before you punch them in the face, Modern Baseball celebrating the simple joy of your crush sitting next to you on the couch, and most recently on Joyce Manor’s third LP Never Hunger Again, Barry Johnson quite literally wearing his heart on his sleeve (or somewhere on his body, the dude never really says specifically where).

In many ways, Joyce Manor are a perfect pop punk band. Relatable, catchy and instantly quotable, their songs are over in the blink of an eye yet paint vivid pictures, offering fresh and clever takes on subjects that have been long-standing staples of the genre such as dysfunctional friendships and small town angst.

Much like on their previous album, 2012’s Of All Things I Will Soon Grow Tired, the band still thrive on chaos, forsaking anything resembling a traditional introduction to a song in favor of simply propelling their listeners into the tune. The effect can be disorientating; if Never Hungover Again is your first experience with Joyce Manor, you might be forgiven for thinking that you’ve accidentally downloaded a copy of the record that’s missing the first 30 seconds of each MP3. You may initially bemoan the fact that some of your favorite tracks here are too short, but once you learn to appreciate the band’s style for what it is, you’ll realize that they’re just not messing around; the songs may not last long, but literally every moment of them is good. All killer, no filler, to quote a band you may have bumped in middle school.

Front and center of these songs is singer Barry Johnson, who seems to be working harder than ever to fill the shoes of the pop-punk-Morrissey both fans and journalists have hailed him as ever since his band swiped the Smiths’ jangly swagger on “Bride of Usher” two years ago. The parallels are not for nothing: Johnson’s friends may ask how he can be happy when he wears all black, but one only needs to turn to one of the Smith’s underrated b-sides to learn that he probably wears black on the outside because black is how he feels on the inside. Still, nowhere are Johnson’s Moz aspirations more striking than on the record’s closing track, “Heated Swimming Pool”, which finds the singer sharing a strange confession with a friend: “I wish you would’ve died in high school, so you could’ve been somebody’s idol.” Oh Manchester, so much to answer for.

Of course, Joyce Manor make sure to pay tribute to the veterans of the genre that paved their way, as well. It’s hard to hear the backing vocals that close out album highlight “Heart Tattoo” without the nasally whine of Blink-182’s Tom Delonge springing to mind, while the band’s biting sense of ironic humor can only be described as Jawbreaker-esque. Meanwhile, the stoned, summery production of the record harkens back to the basement sounds favored by punks of every era, from classic bands like the Descendents and Circle Jerks, to more modern acts such as the Ergs!.

Essentially, Never Hungover Again has something to offer you no matter what kind of punk rock you enjoy. From Barry Johnson’s clever yet relatable lyrics to the band’s uncompromising ability to whip up an instrumental fury, Joyce Manor have crafted what will undoubtedly be the pop-punk record of the summer, an album you’ll want to start over the second it finishes. Trust me, brevity has nothing to do with it.

It’s really hard for me to write about a Conor Oberst album because Bright Eyes is and will forever be one of my favorite bands of all time. When Oberst started to release solo albums again in 2008, I was a bit tepid. His self-titled album sounded like a lighter version of a Bright Eyes Album, which was an odd feeling. The album lacked the overwrought lyrics or powerful meanings that every Bright Eyes album had preceding it. The over-the-top dramatics that ended feeling poetic is part of the reason Bright Eyes became such an important band to me, so when Oberst began his simpler solo projects I was turned off. However, when I say this was his best solo released album to date, I mean it.

I will admit that I haven’t paid much attention to his solo projects prior to his self-titled in 2008, but the progression of Oberst as a musician is evident here. It’s somewhat of a call back to the effortless and intimate “I’m Wide Awake It’s Morning,” while still drawing from the Southern California Folk Pop that led his recent return to solo work. While his album doesn’t become as tragic as his previous work in Bright Eyes, the introspection feels so genuine.

The mix of upbeat folk with the melancholy of the lyrics end up working to support Oberst’s vocals and its simple instrumentation become a refreshing reminder of Oberst’s long career that allowed him to mature as a musician.

While much of the album featured strong storytelling, none are as complete and profound as that in “Enola Gay.” The 2:24 song features one of the most lyrically honest songs (“mashing Charles Mason songs up with show tunes”) of Oberst’s career set against such a beautifully complex instrumentation that plays off mostly like a classic mellow California folk rock groove, but includes small piano interludes that add a whimsical feeling to the song. Eventually the song builds into one of the most haunting endings of any song I’ve ever heard.

Overall, Upside Down Mountain is a massive step in the Canon that is Conor Oberst. For some musicians unhappy is them at their best. I will put in that I have been wildly anticipating Death Cab’s post-Ben Gibbard divorce album for some time now. However, the need for raw unadulterated emotion is unnecessary, which is what makes Conor Oberst one of the great musicians of our time. His work always feels so urgent. Whether it be about not knowing love until I met you or about a bad break up his music begs to be heard. This album begs to be heard because of its great storytelling and ability to tap into the emotions we feel as we all gradually move toward death. As a fan of Oberst I am thrilled that he is still able to put out this quality of work, as a lover of music I am thrilled he is able to speak truths in an industry full of bulls**t.

Radiator Hospital makes the kinds of records that your teenaged heart wishes it could have. Principle member Sam Cook-Parrott has meshed punk energy with pop songwriting since 2010 and has steadily stacked his discography with straight-up gems crafted with a great sense of earnestness, and yet all the modesty of a high school secret admirer. On this his 12^th (12^th!) release, Cook-Parrott delivers a forward-charging, focused batch of songs and stories that, while less idealistic than previous LP Something Wild, refuses to get bogged down in emotional bombast.

Torch Song has a similar feel to it that Superchunk records do, in that you go in knowing what to expect, but never in a “ho-hum” way, because you know the songs will kick ass. And like Superchunk, Radiator Hospital knows how to musically pack a genuine punk sensibility into songs that skew more towards mid-tempo or slower, as is the case with songs like “Cut Your Bangs” and “Five & Dime.” At the same time, the more obviously “punk” songs never sacrifice lyrical importance. This is key for an album focused more firmly on reality; as such, “Leather & Lace,” “Blue Gown,” and “Honeymoon Phase” work beautifully at introducing and sustaining a sense of urgency while ensuring that no chance to develop the record’s theme goes wasted. There are plenty of other really cool elements to be found throughout the record, though; from the surfy vibe of “The Eye,” to the dive bar, Hold Steady-esque jump of “Midnight Nothing;” the best lead-in Straylight Run never had on “Just May Be The One;” and, of course, the presence of the wonderful Crutchfield sisters on “Blue Gown,” “Five & Dime,” and the aforementioned “Midnight Nothing.”

That’s not to say that the album doesn’t succeed in its quieter moments. Cook-Parrot can get down with Waxahatchee-style minimalism, as heard on “181935” (try and tell me the line “the dogs are out for blood tonight” hasn’t resonated with you before) and “I’m All Right,” taking simple guitar/voice arrangements and using them as contrast against the rockier numbers.  The conciseness of his songwriting is great for this kind of variation, and as a result the record has neat dynamics to it. Also, being Torch Song, the album would be incomplete without one, so RadHos delivers, albeit unconventionally, with the two-part “Fireworks”. The first part is sung by Maryn Jones (of Saintseneca), the reprise by Cook-Parrott, separated by half an album’s worth of songs. Appropriate to its lyrics, this distance mirrors the “another place, another time” feeling of the relationship it describes, and fully realizes the overarching theme of the album.

When comparing Torch Song to Something Wild, production stands out the most. Whereas Something Wild meandered in fidelity, and had a real sense of being recorded in various places (and various distances from the microphone), Torch Song has a more consistent, forward-sitting mix, which keeps the energy up, maintains its momentum, and lets those quiet moments feel more intimate. The only time this doesn’t quite come off is in “Sleeping House” which sticks out by being a little too synth-heavy and lurching, despite fulfilling a necessary spot lyrically. However, it does bring about an interesting question: what would Radiator Hospital songs sound like with more synth?  Altogether, a big shout out needs to be given to engineer Kyle Gilbride and his mobile recording rig Wherever Audio for continuing to prove that DIY recording can have great results and bring the most out of great songs.

Torch Song is another solid release from a band with almost exclusively solid releases. There are a few outright jams to be found here, and a slew of other songs with sticky enough melodies and hooks that will find their way into your subconscious. In an efficient 33 minutes, Radiator Hospital delivers a batch of experiences and stories that lend themselves to numerous replays.

When I talked about while (1<2)’s first disc (see the review here) as being this perfectly paced venture into a non-traditional deadmau5 album, I meant it. Everything about the first disc brought new light into the way that house albums could be played, and if it was just kept at the first disc it would’ve been more than enough. I’m only saying this because the second disc does not bring the same punch as the first. I’ll explain why in a minute.

When you hear a deadmau5 song, you think of the pumping bass, the kicking hooks, and sometimes the screaming voice of Gerard Way in the background while watching him fight in a giant robot amongst a crowd of thunderous fans… just me? ok. You don’t think of the piano interludes and the “gentle” deadmau5, you think of the “bursting with personality, assaulting” deadmau5. And although the first disc was a huge change of pace for Mr. Zimmerman, he still retained the house tracks throughout and kept that punch like Floyd Mayweather. BUT, when the second disc comes into play, it shouldn’t have to take 8 tracks (SERIOUSLY, 8 TRACKS) to get into the full Tron-like prog-house jam that we’ve come to expect.

The second disc is paced and laid out like a soundtrack to a movie about a DJ who can’t make it like his friends can or something to that effect. I can praise the instrumentals for the use of piano and even acoustic guitar, but it’s not house, it’s not progressive house, it’s not even resembling anything close to what Zimmerman’s put out in recent years. “Acedia”, “Errors in my Bread”, “Mercedes” and “Pets” are the only house-like tracks on this disc, and I say “house-like” because they’re surprisingly underwhelming and dare I say, nice. I don’t follow most house musicians for their “nice” music, I follow so I can be punched in the face and ask “please, may I have another?”

That being said, the piano tracks are beautifully arranged and have a somber tone to them, just like in the first disc. A track that really piqued my interest was “A Moment to Myself” which incorporated little glitches and ambient synths that make it seem like a lost M83 track that’s great for taking a load off from a long day. The remix of Nine Inch Nails’ “Survivalism” was decent too, but it’s not like the How to Destroy Angels’ remix in the first disc. And the final track “Seeya”, has the grooves of Disclosure, but like most of the album, it’s NOT. DEADMAU5. (And more importantly, it took 14 tracks to get to this REALLY GOOD TRACK?).

Anyway, as a whole, the album is a crazy change from > album title goes here <, and it is refreshing to hear a new take on house music. However, the name deadmau5 has a lot of weight in the EDM world and if it was put under another name it would be just a decent album. The instrumentals are nice, but it’s not house. The whole album is nice, but that’s not the style we’ve come to love. There are a few tracks that leave you wanting more, but what you get is not what you wanted. Joel Zimmerman, if you’re gonna make a new album with a new sound, don’t make it musical whiplash next time.

Honeyblood’s debut reminds me of  Veronica Falls’ Waiting for Something to Happen, some Icona Pop, Widowspeak, and a splash of The Breeders and Yuck. It’s a mish-mash of sounds and ideas while still maintaining a really cool sound that should be praised but falls under the umbrella of most household names in indie pop.

The sound is praise-worthy and the production for most of the songs sounds like the crunch of leaves from fall; it’s brittle, it’s loud and it’s something to marvel at. The drums crash and the guitars have a great dynamic between the grind of the tracks themselves and the chorus effect staple. You can hear the little influences with the slow, headbobbin’ grooves of the guitar and the vocals that seem angelic and juxtaposed with the devilish production.

The songs have an immediate punch to them- while they don’t get as loud as bands like The Men and My Bloody Valentine, they have a power to them that makes you feel “just punk enough”. “Biro” and “(I’d Rather Be) Anywhere But Here” take it a bit smoother with catchy indie-pop lyrics talking about the problems of the past and the overall ennui of life, love and hometowns. But that’s where the umbrella comes in.

Most indie pop has had these lyrics about leaving home and missing someone and complaining about no change and complaining about change, the whole spiel is getting very old and I want a little edge and variety with my indie pop nowadays. “Fall Forever”, “Killer Bangs”, “Choker”, “No Spare Key”, “Joey” they all have just about the same theme and if you’ve never heard of Honeyblood you’d just think it was the indie pop Pitchforked flavor-of-the-month.

Final Verdict: As amazing as it is to listen to the instrumentation and clever breaks and vocal melodies that fill this album, digging any deeper isn’t going to yield a diamond. You’ll find some garnet and some cubic zirconium, but nothing that’s worth as much as it was years ago.

Antarctigo Vespucci is a project that was born from musical masterminds Jeff Rosenstock, who just recently put the music collective Bomb the Music Industry! to bed, and Fake Problems’ vocalist Chris Farren. What was created was an incredible 7-song debut called Soulmate Stuff that brought me to believe that no matter which way the music industry goes, two friends can get still get together and make amazing music.

That’s part of the charm of the album, that everything feels so organic. There’s no cohesion or planning. The sound of the album is hard to pin down since it feels like the duo didn’t want to be tied down to a specific genre. It pulls from nearly era of rock. Some songs, like “Don’t Die in Yr Hometown,” sound like they fell of of Springsteen’s Born in the U.S.A, but then “I’m Giving of U2” and “Bang!” are reminiscent of Weezer’s catchy choruses and relatable lyrics.

The instrumentation contributes to the album’s uniqueness with some tracks backed solely by an acoustic guitar and some become so varied in their instrumentation that something like a glockenspiel could be heard. Farren supplies the vocals to all seven tracks, which is an added bonus considering his laid back emo voice adds so much familiarity. As do the lyrics like: “Just don’t fade out/cause all I want to do is ride my bike and think about sex, yeah.”

It must be said that Casey Lee’s guitar solo in “I’m Giving Up on U2” and Laura Stevenson’s vocals on “Sometimes” are incredible additions to this album.

It’s something to rock out to in the shower or car, or just when you need sometime alone. They supply the summer jams that we have so desperately been wanting all winter. Apparently this might be a one time gig for Chris Farren and Jeff Rosenstock and if it is then so be it, because what they created is timeless.

Want to know what the most charming album of 2014 is? Well, you found the right review. PHOX is a six-piece indie pop band out of Wisconsin who prior to this year has only released an EP. However, the band has been at it for years and that shows in this album. I’m a guy out of a town that I am shocked to know more than 3 people in, so when these hometown friends exude a charm that is so unique and endearing, it was a bit comforting.

Their first full-length self-titled effort combines all the elements you’re looking for in a folk album with the elements of a pop album and brings them to a happy medium to create a sound that sounds so familiar, but you can’t place. The familiarity is comforting, but when the album begins to soar, like in the track “Evil” with its light guitar strums and surreal harmonies, you just have to buy into it.

After the charming two opening tracks, we come to the album’s lead single “Slow Motion”. Monica Martin is completely charming with her smokey and ever-moving vocals. The song is gently reminiscent of a gentle soul groove, but incorporates elements of folk to create a smooth and catchy track the perfectly leads into the strictly folk “1936”. With its soft guitar twangs and harmonic vocals, the track gives us yet another taste of this hometown charm that this group is bringing.

Despite the album’s charisma and seeming innocence, songs like “Laura” bring us lyrics like: “you can try and hide away from all the things that people say, that you need to be ok but you just stay the same.” That is the type of narrative maturity that makes the band so refreshing. So often in a band’s first outing are the lyrics so shallow and insincere, but there is a candor in the writing here. There are moments where that shallowness comes out, but it is always made up for with the punchy melodies supporting them.

PHOX sounds like an album written by a group that has has far more experience than this relatively young band. With tight harmonies, catchy melodies, and captivating instrumentation, PHOX was able to deliver an album that gives the listener everything they need to fall for a band. While the album lacks the power that we’re yearning for from the beginning, it doesn’t fail to deliver some great tracks.

If you were born in the early 90’s, you might have discovered a few years back a vague but fond recollection of R&B radio hits of that decade. You’ll recognize the names: Whitney Houston, Janet Jackson, Jodeci and their spin-off K-Ci & JoJo, Boyz II Men… Keith Sweat. This rekindled affection may have stemmed, in part, from releases like Love Remains, How To Dress Well’s first album. That album sounded like a half-remembered memory in and of itself, hazy and collaged together, and helped spawn a tackily-named sub-genre whose artists helped push the boundaries of popular music in turn. Now, that movement has played out in the same way that so many others have in the Internet age, with the wheat separating itself from the chaff through instantly classic albums. Krell has solidified his status in that superior group with his latest release, What Is This Heart?

In his relatively short career, Krell has time and time again pushed the boundaries of R&B in exciting directions by refracting pop music through his own lens. Up to this point, his songs have played like deliciously deconstructed or even outright damaged gems, simultaneously proving the worth and endurance of a good pop song, first through the noise of Love Remains, and then by pulling that noisy veil back to reveal how vulnerable silence can sound on Total Loss, his previous full-length. What Is This Heart? synthesizes those aural theses into actual pop music; it achieves universality while also breaking its own new ground. Newness in the idea that the sounds found on this album are the result of a careful distillation and reduction of pop music trends of the last three decades, bringing out the highest physical and emotional catharsis within each song. The bass and synth strings on “What You Wanted”, screwed vocals on “Face Again”, subtle, slightly 808s and Heartbreaks auto-tune on “Precious Love”, the Purple Rain coda homage on “Words I Don’t Remember”, and guitar sounds pulled from just about everywhere in 80s and 90s music found throughout the album are all executed with enough precision and restraint to remind you why Top 40 radio overuses them. Much in the way that Love Remains rekindled a love for that later period of R&B, What Is This Heart? lets the listener delight in the blur of something new, exciting, and yet somehow familiar.

Part of this credit has to be given to producer Rodaidh McDonald, who worked with Krell on Total Loss. The pristine sheen he applies here is similar to the kind found on that album, but emphasizes the usage of space to more dramatic effect. This is especially apparent on the balladesque tracks “See You Fall” and “Pour Cyril,” where washes of sound fill formerly naked space epically yet without bombast. The opener, “2 Years On (Shame Dream)”, evokes a humbleness even as it reaches a crescendo, a breath of noise behind Krell’s singing of shaaaame on a note just out of your range. Those signature super-processed Love Remains-style vocals appear now and then to raise the stakes, to build that cathedral of harmony as only found on How To Dress Well records. But the presence of these large sounds act as the atmosphere for other, smaller sounds to exist in, as is the case with “What You Wanted”. A wood-knock rhythm and synth-y sounding guitar flourish against the aforementioned synth strings and huge bass, popping out and making memories. It’s a special moment early on in an album filled with them.

How To Dress Well’s focal point, even in its noisier days, has always been on the vocals. Krell is at his strongest both vocally and lyrically on this album, his falsetto soaring as he ruminates on love of the familial and romantic variety, as well as philosophy approaching religion and death. “2 Years On (Shame Dream)” is a stark vignette about family, love, and things that are out of one’s control. Despite being perhaps the most sonically minimalist of the tracks, it sets the tone of the album through its emotional honesty. This is punctuated and emphasized through the rhythm of Krell’s delivery, which has always been one of his strongest assets. “No one ever told you life would be this unfair but oh it is” stands out in that song as it builds and tumbles down, notes and rhythm working in unison, poetic without pulling punches. On the follow up song, “What You Wanted”, a staccato performance in the first verse leads into a chorus that dominates rhythmically: “You never say just what you wanted when you want it”. The lyrics do venture into more impressionistic territories at times, but never at the expense of conveying some kind of feeling. The previous two HTDW albums established that Krell does that well, but when “Face Again” conveys personal conflict and confusion in such a way that you’re yelling them with him like you’re at Warped Tour, you realize that he’s developed his songwriting talent even further. “House Inside (Future is Older than the Past)” is as close to gospel music as philosophy (writ large) is going to get, providing hope without explanation or resolution, but merely the statement “this world is such a pretty thing”. It’s a beautiful way to end an album that spends its time expressing the tension between hopes and tribulations.

The most succinct summation of the entire album lies in the three song run of “Repeat Pleasure”, “Words I Don’t Remember”, and “Pour Cyril”. It has the hooks, emotional bareness, and penchant for the epic. And even with that, it doesn’t tell the full story of an album that begs to be taken fully in a single dose. If Total Loss was supposed to sprawl with sincerity a la Janet Jackson’s Velvet Rope, then WITH takes that sprawl and personal honesty and condenses it while also amplifying every eccentricity, every signature sound within each song. The entire album is a masterpiece in that it captures Krell’s vision of “pop without being populist,” and is the strongest evidence of “artistic growth” that any artist has shown in years, however misconstrued that notion may be.

-Kyle J. Greco

Stellar news! This town IS big enough for two noisy-angry Copenhagen bands on Matador Records. We are now introduced to Lower, and their album, Seek Warmer Climes. Contrasted with the hardcore punk influence of Iceage- a local contemporary- Lower brings a heavy early goth/post-punk feel. This is Lower’s first full-length, and fortunately for them, it’s on a pretty solid record label.

Lower’s sound leads me to believe that they performed a séance to channel post-punk band Bauhaus when they simply could have phoned the band since all of its members are still alive. From this, we got deep, introspective, free form post-punk glory but without the horrible gated snare drum sound that plagued so many bands from the 1980s. The drums, in fact, are quite lovely if I might add. Very tom heavy, but not in the cheesy tribal way that dime-a-dozen indie pop bands do it. The floor tom gets plenty of air time here. It feels like a heartbeat, purposefully faster than a human heartbeat, leaving you struggling to keep up. The bass guitar is reminiscent of a classic low end sound, a bass guitar with a humbucking neck pickup played with a pick near the bridge. This tried and true method gives a heavy, chunky bass tone that has no problem cutting through the mix. The guitar is as much a forefront instrument as the drums. But this isn’t a guitar-centered band whatsoever. The guitar is played harshly, but the tone is not. It comes off jangly, lightly distorted, with a hint of chorus shimmer. The guitarist plays a Jazzmaster, objectively the best guitar in existence (according to me). Vocals here are your typical European post-punk fare, where the vocalist sounds like he should be yelling at you, but isn’t. It fits in well with the music. It is dark, but hopeful, despite being pessimistic.

The cover art features a photograph of a fellow, clad completely in white, who appears to have just fallen in some red dirt, possibly on Tatooine. He wears a painful demeanor on his face, as if he were a young lad who had just dropped his ice cream. I believe it speaks well to the overall tone of the album. In an interview with Pitchfork, vocalist Adrian Toubro describes his influences from boredom in life, to famous poets and novelists. One of the songs describes his time spent in Africa, disillusioned, and almost kidnapped in the Tanzanian city of Dar es Salaam.

I enjoy most of the songs on this album. It can drag a bit. Might be a lot to chew all at once for some. This isn’t the most accessible music in the world, but if you enjoy it then to hell with everyone else. The album clocks in a tad under 35 minutes. Any longer and it would have watered down the message. Check out “Soft Option”, a gem packed into the B-Side of the record and “Another Life”, the first song on the album.

Seek Warmer Climes is best enjoyed live and in person. Not that I would know, just seems like they’d be a damn fine live band. I just looked up their USA tour dates. They played in Philly a few months ago. Bollocks…

Many think of Heavy Metal or any of the subgenres like Progressive Metal, Technical Death Metal, Sludge Metal, Serbian Turbo-Folk Metal and the like as an acquired taste. Some are right to think that way, but it gives us the chance to laud some of the albums that let us enter into another world of music without being punched in the face with some of the deeper cuts in the genre. The only reason I’m saying this is because Mastodon’s “Once More ‘Round the Sun” is an accessible metal album that also delivers for the fans who want to hear more of the sludginess and technicality.

If you’re coming from albums like Blood Mountain, Remission and Leviathan then this is going to be a bit weird. The vocals are a lot cleaner and the production value changes IMMENSELY from Mastodon’s earlier stuff. There are some gruff moments like in the title track “Once More ‘Round the Sun”, “Tread Lightly” and “Feast Your Eyes” where the vocals seem to growl with the fury of the Metal Gods. But the main thing to praise throughout this entire album is the technicality in the instrumentation. The drums have never felt so evil and blasting with quick snare hits, and the use of the ride in almost every song swoops in and takes you in the talons of a winged beast. And “Halloween” has that punk rock energy that has an original Mastodon flair to it, progressive in every way down to the end.

But heavy metal mythology aside, the songs that are brimming with influences on its sleeves are fantastic. Songs like “Chimes at Midnight” have that Avenged Sevenfold-like doom looming over it and the vocals seem to take the same road without being so 7th grade, whereas “Asleep in the Deep” takes the Soundgarden (yeah, I said it) aesthetic of alternative rock that’s so prominent in the chorus that you wouldn’t be able to tell who was playing. “Ember City” also continues the soft vocals with a catchy chorus that pleads “And it was slipping away! What do I say to you? What do I say to you? And if I want you to stay? What do I say to you? What do I say to you?” It almost rivals the little “I need a little escape” on “Black Albino Bones” from Fucked Up’s The Chemistry of Common Life.

There might be a few moments on here that don’t quite hit the mark. “Aunt Lisa” sounded a bit noisy and scatter-brained and although it had QOTSA-like choral vocals, the music itself was way too distracting for me to pay attention, just like “Floating Coffin” from Thee Oh Sees’ album last year. And the last track “Diamond in the Witch House” is just another one of the final tracks that I utterly ignored. Not only is the length daunting, but it’s almost constant in terms of the beat and it’s forgettable in my opinion.

Final Verdict: This is easily one of the most catchy, accessible, and yet well-crafted metal albums I’ve heard since Kvelertak’s debut. It will entertain even the most novice of metalheads and the most devout of alterna-rockers. With its clean production but sludgy and progressive technicality, it has some of my favorite songs of the year so far and will be going in my book as a near-perfect metal album.