We Could be Heros...

A few weeks ago a friend with somewhat distinguished tastes made mention that he in fact believes that the band Radiohead is the "most important rock band in the world."

Not speaking as a fan of Yorke, Greenwood and Co. (I'm not) I must admit that there was a time when that statement might have been true, when the album Kid A was released in 2000. Not trying to sound like some hippie burnout (I'm not), that album really did blow some minds. The album was really one of the most challenging albums to shoot to a #1 spot on pop charts and the band played stadium sized shows on their US tours in it's wake.

Once again, that album was released in the year 2000. Since then, it has become sort of this point of reference for people who like to make mention that they really "enjoy challenging music." Maybe I'm just a dumb Yankee (I am) but something about Radiohead always rubbed me as pretentious. Like some sort of British thing that I just really couldn't understand*. I drew my conclusion eight years ago that Radiohead was not the most important rock band in the world.

The flip-side to Radiohead is a band that had never really created challenging music (compared to the bands they were influenced by/stole from). had taken a nose dive and gone from bearable to downright awful. In October of 2000, U2 released their album All That You Can't Leave Behind and the band collectively smiled and nodded as a bunch of people shit themselves and proclaimed that once again U2 was the most important band in the world. Soon after that, frontman Bono would champion just about every single cause under the sun, making fans of just about every single human being on the planet who needed a mouthpiece for their guilty conscience. I'm sorry to say it, but I believe that anybody with taste who gives a quick listen to the above mentioned album will fast realize that the album in fact sucks and U2 is really not the best or important band in the world.

Today, the newest album by TV on The Radio shall be officially released into the public consciousness.It is my guess that within 48 hours, major publications all across the country will be hailing it as the record of the year. Critics and music fans alike will proclaim that Dear Science, is either the defining moment of the Brooklyn groups career or simply another component to a sequence of albums put out by a group that has become the most important band of their generation. Even though all the results are not yet in, I am just going to ruin the surprise and let everybody in on the secret, both statements are correct and work together to bring on that result.

TV on the Radio has put out the best album of the year for a band that is the most important one of the decade.

With all the above talk bashing U2 and Radiohead you might think that I am indeed slaughtering sacred cows for the thrill of the kill but I must make mention that I am not the biggest fan of TV on the Radio. I have only realized after one full listen to Dear Science, that the band has pulled off something that is quite rare in any day and age: they have created an album full of urgent, cohesive, and catchy songs, all done without a bit of compromise.

Really, if you want a song by song breakdown, I'd suggest Pitchfork or basically any other blog on the entire interweb. Some are written by fans, others by journalists. In some cases, reviews will be written by shills of the corporate beast known as the record industry that is slowly dying (good riddance). What I am proposing is you take my advice and purchase, steal, download (same thing?) or borrow Dear Science, by TV on the Radio and bask in the golden age where we finally live in a world that finally has a most important band on it.

*In 2000 I was in fact paying close attention to bands like Black Dice and Arab on Radar. I don't know what that says about my grasp on what is pretentious but for the sake of fairness I figured I should make mention of this fact.
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Reviewed: Pt. 2

Okkervil River
The Stand Ins
Jagjaguwar


If I could do it all again, I'd do it right.
I'd give Okkervil Rivers The Stage Names it's rightful title of best album, 2007 because it really had everything I wanted in an album. While musically the band bridged the gap between alt-country and twee pop, it was lead singer Will Sheff crooning in a Morrissey-Scott Walker sorta way that made the album what it was as well as lyrics that bolted Sheff to the head of the class to become the newest Poet Laureate in underground music.
That was all last year. An entire 365+ days ago.
With the release of Okkervil Rivers newest album, The Stand Ins, I feel that I have a chance to make amends without making too bold of a statement because the reality is this album just seems like a continuation of what The Stage Names started. All the souls reaching for that spiritual brass ring are given a voice by Sheff. Their short stories compressed into these songs fit perfectly and never overreach but never seem to gain closure at the same time. Every behind the scene loser and every wanna-be gets called to their podium for a chance to make their case.

"Lost Coastlines" opens up the album and set's the tone as The Stage Names "Our Life is not a Movie or Maybe" did. The band bravely tackles early Tom Petty jangle in a world filled with the dust of post-Strokes fallout that can easily harm your lungs or your career.
The song "Singer-Songwriter" calls to task exactly who the title makes mention of. "I Heard cuts by The Kinks on your speakers. I saw Poe and Artaud on your shelves" is pointed directly at all the over-hip that call themselves artists. Sheff obviously has a bone to pick with them and he writes a scorching assessment of what he sees as their hypocrisy.
With all that, if I have to pick any track as the standout, the closing track "Bruce Wayne Campbell Interviewed on the Roof of the Chelsea Hotel, 1979" is it. Sheffs heartbreaking narrative of the late glam-rock icon Jobriath seems a fitting end to an album that seems now to have spanned two years and two discs as well.
The curtain falls as Sheff sums up the story of Jobriath by letting you know very little about his short rise but more to his inevitable fall, possibly summing up the entire theme of Okkervill Rivers last two albums. You can get to the top, as anything is indeed possible, but crashing is a possibility and it's a long way to the bottom. A hard floor that Sheff and Co. visited last year when singing about John Berryman on "John Allyn Smith Sails" and now give narrative to the end of a glitter rocker in the most poetic way possible.

Early September. I can't really tell you much about the "best album of 2008." All I know is that Okkervil River has completed a story with this album. An essential batch of stories that have been written and recorded at an epic pace and places Okkervil River on the short list of artists creating the most vital music these days.
http://www.myspace.com/okkervilriver
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Reviewing: Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me...

We'll go ahead and get this out of the way first, we'll clean house and we'll air things, like rugs, and opinions, and bedsheets. The Walkmen are one of the best bands is America. Yes they are. Their new record, You and Me, has been receiving strangely hesitant but positive reviews, as though people have (or at least are acting as if they have) forgotten about them, or as if they've released a string of bad records and are redeeming themselves with their latest. You'll see blog posts about the record that begin:
"I’ve always felt a little iffy about The Walkmen’s music. I think it’s because of their downright stubbornness to not stray from their “comfort zone.”'

(Ed.- Though, to be fair, this from a blog whose best new music is the new Rancid record, those models of adventuresome stylistic modification)

or:

"...since then I’ve sort of lost track of them. I know I have Bows & Arrows (2004), A Hundred Miles Off (2006), and even Pussy Cats (2006), and I remember enjoying each one...but they’ve all faded into the depths of my musical mind...seemingly lost forever..."

Fair enough, if one is willing to accept the constant shortening of contemporary attention spans.

The truth is that there are only a handful of bands with any significant measure of popularity who have been able to define themselves, aesthetically and thematically, in a meaningful way, along with Liars and Animal Collective, most importantly. Unfortunately, in the deceptively heated race to relevance in new media (deceptive in that it is created, maintained, and popularized only by those who engage in it's histrionics), true artistic progression is valued far less than it should be in favor of short-term publicity. Which means undue hype, which means that bands who'd rightly never have received any positive recognition become celebrated, or that unnecessary aesthetic shifts are hailed as artistic innovation.

Now, on their fifth LP, the Walkmen's sound is further defined and distillated: the guitars ring more clearly, the drums rumble with more power, the vocals sit higher, and the lyrics more athletic. All to say, of course, that the The Walkmen's aesthetic spirit quest continues, for the benefit of those among us possessing the requisite strength to fend off the entreaties of sweet smelling but lower hanging fruit. Read more On "Reviewing: Everyone Who Pretended to Like Me..."!

Reviewing: The Ladies of Summer

Noa Babayof
From a Window to a Wall
Language of Stone Records


Adron
Adron
New Street Records


August is like a bad hangover after two swirling months of the grandest party this side of the Roaring Twenties. The never on-time train coming to whisk you away to another steaming destination, the stale smells that seem to linger at nose level, and the never-ending throngs of tourists crowding the streets are some of the signs that we have journeyed to the threshold of the dog days of summer, and easing this pain calls for a very particular kind of medication (besides booze, of course).


I listened to the first release by Israeli singer-songwriter Noa Babayof while waiting for one of the aforementioned trains, knowing that it might not be the best setting to begin listening to a release I was to review as the uncomfortable slow-roasting of the below-ground oven can quickly translate any new experience into an uncomfortable association.

Babayof sings with the sad soul of Nico, but with a harmony in her voice that at sometimes reaches out to Joni Mitchell. And while the concept of a dark folk chanteuse is nothing new to the Language of Stone family of music (Lights, Ex-Reverie), Babayof brings something new to the young label. While most of the bands on the label dollop their recordings with spaced out guitar (provided by producer/label honcho Greg Weeks of Espers), a different yet perpetual air of dreaminess envelops From a Window to a Wall. The baroque arrangements are clean and tasteful, proof that The Beatles' influence has indeed carried all over the world.
She also shares a definite association with contemporaries like Hope Sandoval, Marissa Nadler, and even nodding to Sharron Kraus.
Babayof has created a work of beauty, and for Language of Stone, yet another wonderful release in a summer that has seemed to belong to them.

The destination of 21-year old Adron's (real name Adrienne McCann) quest seems to be on a parade float in Rio de Janeiro during Carnival basking in the sun. Her debut self-titled record could easily find it's way into the happy ears of any fan of some Elephant 6 Records more notable alumni. And while the Beatles-esque psych pop is on display here in heavy doses, it's Adron's interpretation of 60's Brazilian Tropicalia . She breezes into OS Mutantes territory the way Devendra Banhart only dreams he could as he lays awake at night in his cottage in Laurel Canyon.
Out of nowhere (actually Brooklyn by way of Atlanta) she has produced a debut of such surprising maturity that the sheer idea of what she will do in the future is almost too good to imagine. Read more On "Reviewing: The Ladies of Summer"!

Reviewing: Vetiver

Things of the Past
Gnomonsong

Over the course of the last two albums, Andy Cabic has had a revolving door for guests that want to jam with him under the group that he leads, Vetiver.
It's quite a democratic process, and has allowed Mr. Cabic to work on music with pal/label partner Devendra Banhart (or as we like to call him, King B.), Hope Sandoval, Joanna Newsom as well as folks from Espers, My Bloody Valentine, Beachwood Sparks and a whole bunch more.


It's democratic, but almost isn't fair because it always sound so damn good. Cabic's ability to get these sorts of people always equals a fine album of material that goes above and beyond the insipid tag of "freak folk." Now on the third proper LP Sir Andy drifts a rag-tag group of friends (Vashti Bunyan, The Chapin Sisters, The Papercuts, Michael Hurley) into an ocean of cover songs, and in some cases lots of friends guesting + covers album could equal a disaster. This is however Vetiver we are talking about, and they have no problem making the best of covers from such names as Townes Van Zandt, Norman Greenbaum, Loudon Wainwright III, Biff Rose, and a whole lot more.
It seems to me that once you get to the point of a third album, an artist has already defined themselves. In the case of Vetiver/Cabic with the ability not only to work with so many guests, but to be able to pull off a covers album with such grace, they have defined themselves as musicians whose talent transcends the tag's they are commonly given. Read more On "Reviewing: Vetiver"!

Reviewing: Endless Boogie

Focus Level
No Quarter

Having your ear to the ground the last few years might confirm that everybody from Stephen Malkmus to Matt Sweeney has been mentioning Endless Boogie like they were a secret society of mystical men, whose music might change your entire outlook on life.
Keeping in mind that we live in a cynical age, hearing about this race of supermen playing this stuff that re-defines "riff rock" seemed more than unlikely. There have been many that have tried, and many have failed (some of them quite badly). Most of those hacks have come and gone, leaving me somewhat skeptical to the whole genre. This lack of trust caused me to question the current subject as possibly another group that would remind me of the bar band in the film Ghost World. Even after such esteemed member of the underground rock community have taken their side.
Things changed after witnessing one performance, I understood how totally wrong I was. The Church of Endless Boogie had me in their grip, and Just like their live show, from the opening seconds of their debut LP, you know this album is nothing short of a deliverance. On Focus Level the Brooklyn quartet plays Fun House-era Stooges hanging out in Memphis BBQ. They build layered, heavy psych like they have been doing it their whole lives, and with the results that come out of this album, I might believe it if they told me that was the case.
They make it seem so easy when they open the album and sound like they are doing a real hard ass take on "Takin' Care of Business" or when they make the guitar squeal in the middle of an 11 minute jam like "Executive Focus."
This might be a case of a band being naturally good, and maybe there is a slight chance that anybody who is planning to make music anything like this without going 100% should reconsider.
Simply put, death to false blues rock! Long live Endless Boogie!


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Reviewing: Loto Ball Show

Levy on the EyeWay
Gifted Children records

I believe this is what St. Lester Bangs referred to when he was talking about "skronk."
No Wave funk getting Skin Graft (the procedure and record label) onto the zombie of Albert Ayler.
This will fuck with your head so good. In fact, this record sent me into 3 different emotional states upon the first listen, as ex-Phantom Limbs guy Loto Ball and his big band re-taught me how to dance.
For this, I thank thee.

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Reviewing: Tweak Bird

Whorses 7"
Challenge the Throne Records

Somebody explain to me how two people could make this sort of thing? Like The Melvins and The Dirtbombs jamming together while tripping balls and causing a riot in the streets of L.A. Then the b-side sounds like that, but with Rush joining in. How does that happen?
All I know is thats its a couple of dudes, making the most messed up post-garage racket I may ever hear. This is nothing short of world changing. Here is an MP3.
Whorses.


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Reviewing: Albert Hammond Jr.

¿Como Te Llama?
RCA Records/Black Seal

I'm supposed to hate this because the guy is in The Strokes? Really?
Okay, fine. But before you make me go and do that, listen to song two on this album then try and tell me if you have ever written a song that sounds like a cross between Thin Lizzy and "Instant Karma?"
Then ponder this. All this guy has to do is sit around, count his money, and figure out how to make better albums than the ones his full time band makes.


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Reviewed: Bowerbirds

Hymns for a Dark Horse
Dead Oceans

Do you know what makes me love this album? The fact that the title of this album actually gives me the feeling the song's bring. Bowerbirds ability to create song's that sound like the haunted roads leading all points south, past unmarked graves of Confederate soldiers and Wildwood Flowers that spring up all over the landscape that stretches back into the darkest corners of the region.

It's might not sound as such, but it is the sort of peace that very few (myself included) can really grasp, but I love the sound of it.
Brings to mind spookies with beards like Will Oldham, Black Heart Procession, and Iron and Wine.

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Reviewed: The War on Drugs

Wagonwheel Blues
Secretly Canadian

This album is sort of like a bunch of shitty alt-country but done totally right. All those times you wanted to like that Pete Yorn song (whatever it’s called) but you didn’t because you saw the video and realized Yorn is a total yob, here is your vindication.


Maybe call it alt-shoegazer, or something dumb like that?

Wagonwheel Blues will fuck with you on like 18 different levels. The perfect example comes on the 6th track “Needle in your Eye #16” where the band somehow manages to cross breed Spacemen 3 with “Dancing in the Dark” by The Boss.

How do they pull that off?
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Reviewed:Steve Von Till

A Grave is a Grim Horse
Neurot Recordings
I have owned no less than 4 Neurosis shirts in my life, and if I lost this one I have now, I would not even thing twice to buy another one. Why? Because Neurosis has kept it realer than real, and STILL put makes better stuff than 3 quarters of the chumps trying to make "heavy" music.


With that in mind, the guy who helped create the bleak, atmospheric doom that the band has been cranking out for about twenty years has put out his third solo album on the bands record label Neurot Recordings. On the third release, Von Till still writes and sings haunting folk that brings to mind the broken dark side of Americana. A much different affair than his full time band, but in some ways not that far off.
My guess is Von Till is aware that these days there is a market for this sort of stuff. Michael Gira in his post Swans life, Six Organs of Admittance, Mark Langdon have been proving that. But judging by his past work, I don't think Von Till cares much about a market.


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Reviewing: Harvey Milk

Life...The best game in Town
Hydra Head Records

All I know is that prior to reviewing this album, my friends and I were getting drunk, and "Rusty Cage" by Soundgarden came on, and all I could think was "damn, Chris Cornell became such a douche. playing in that Rage Against the Machine Pt. 2 band."
Then as I sat down to listen to this, I got to track 9 called appropriately titled "Barnburner" and I got to thinking about how if only Cornell could hear this song, he might find his way back to us, and maybe be cool again.

Quick points

- They cover Fear.

- Look at that cover. How good is that thing?





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Reviewing: The Pink Noise

The Pink Noise
Dream Code
Sacred Bones Records

If at all possible, The Pink Noise out of Toronto would be an event that took place between the first Modern Lovers recordings and a bunch of dope fueled nights in some Lower East Side loft listening to the theme from Beverley Hills Cop 1978 to 1982. They bring to mind strange romantic notions of times long gone, or that never were on this fantastic 14 song LP recorded through the years 2005 to 2007. Thanks to the good people (person?) at the young upstart label Sacred Bones, this broken, cold gloom wave pop has seen the light of day.



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Reviewing: Silver Summit

Silver Summit
S/T
Language of Stone

What Greg Weeks has tapped into with his label Language of Stone is a moment in time we should all stand still and recognize. The albums they have been putting out in the last few months including Festival, Ex Reverie, and Lights have been nothing short of mini-monuments to musical gods that don't seem to be from this world.
The latest comes from the Brooklyn duo that go by the name of Silver Summit. Together, Sondra Ow Sun-Odeon and David Shawn Bosler weave together a tapestry of songs that take bits and pieces of any good vibration they could find around them.
At some points this sounds like bits of music taken from any various spot in the universe, and at others trying to channel Incredible String Band and Pentangle. Sometimes pulling close to White Magic, in both the band and the art of even touching on Cocteau Twin's territory. All that, and a Bert Jansch cover.


Watch the video of them (with full band) live at Union Pool a few months back.

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