Last week finally saw the release of Chance the Rapper's newest mixtape, Acid Rap. This is a free download that you can get right HERE. Seriously, that's all you have to do. Click on it. Now.
Chance the Rapper is a twenty year-old MC from Chicago -- I say "MC" specifically because Chance is the most entertaining new artist I have heard in quite some time. Where Kendrick focuses on the ever present dispositions toward violence being bred in certain geographic areas, Chance explores the same subject matter but in a much more enjoyable manner - there is more than one "Backseat Freestyle" you can enjoy on an album packed with an intelligent social conscience. And like Kendrick nearly perfected on his debut, there is a two movement song on Acid Rap, the seven and a half minute long "Pusha Man", though it's not as smooth a transition as Kendrick's "Sing About Me, I'm Dying of Thirst".
Being from Chicago obviously carries Kanye comparisons with it, West being the most notable Chicago artist in recent memory. Hearing Acid Rap for the first time did bring me back to the first time I heard "All Falls Down", The College Dropout. It's feel good music with an educated backbone. While fellow young Chicago rapper Chief Keef is very much a trap artist focusing on fully embracing gun violence, Chance has a much more cautious, controlled attitude toward gun violence - exhibited in the second half of "Push Man".
Acid Rap unfurls like a proper debut, much like how other growing rappers in this blog-heavy atmosphere's first notable mixtape felt big - the entire Black Hippy crew, the Pro Era kids, and ugh, Odd Future. Yeah, he is rapping about taking acid, drinking, and drugs, but it's self-conscious and incorporates crafty wordplay, awarding these songs a lot of stability and a projected longer lifespan. Ab-Soul, Action Bronson, Childish Gambino, and even Twista show up to expand the mixtape's voice and reach. And the beats are as well selected as the features are.
On all fronts, Chance the Rapper's Acid Rap kills it. This is a proper introduction to one of the most promising talents to debut in the past year that cannot be missed, seriously.
Check out the video for album single "Juice" below and download Chance's first mixtape #10Day HERE.
I won't shirk the claim that James Blake is my favorite artist to debut in the last couple years; that's a pretty concrete feeling I have. He seems to do everything right - his EPs allow him to experiment with new styles and sonics, his LPs are focused on furthering his songwriting and catalogue. That being said, Overgrown feels much more complete than Blake's eponymous debut. It is pure joy to pick out the little nuances Blake buries in his music, whether it be the subtle shifting of elements from foreground to background or just a noise I cannot begin to fathom constructing myself. He is at the forefront of Electronic music, passionately concerned with moving the genre forward.
Overgrown finds Blake stripping back the digital masking on most his vocals, offerring a more honest listen to his maudlin crooning. What makesBlake's second effort much better than his first is the song writing. His lyrics are tight, pensive, organic -- this is why I was rather disappointed that Blake didn't include a lyric sheet in his physical release like the debut did. I'm not just humming along to these songs anymore, but singing the lyrics clearly all day: chewing, digesting the material. The structures of these songs are complex and unique, more so as the record progresses into its increasingly experimental second half.
Enough Thunder, one of the two EPs in between the debut and Overgrown, saw Blake flirt with a Bon Iver collaboration and a beautiful Joni Mitchell cover; and even though the former wasn't anything to write home about, it allowed the artist to broaden his musical palette by including someone else in the song writing process. With this experiment under his belt, Two legendary musical figures, RZA and Brian Eno, helped James Blake with two songs on Overgrown. Both efforts are wins, the RZA song being one of the best songs Blake has done, giving hope to anyone (me) who wanted him to produce for rappers - his mix of R&B singing with stellar production dovetails RZA's heartfelt and serious lyrics pointedly.
There are more traditional songs - "Overgrown", "I Am Sold", "Retrograde" - on Overgrown than any of James Blake's previous efforts, be it EP or LP. And even though, as previously mentioned, the back half is a little experimental, there aren't any Lindisfarne ones and twos taking up record space. When it comes to a bonus track, a concept Ben Goodheart is vehemently against, "Everyday I Ran" may be the first bonus track to warrant a couple extra bucks, as it is just as good as Blake's breakthrough "CMYK".
I cannot wait to see where he goes from here; hopefully we get more experiments and new musical approaches on an EP in the near future, which isn't hard to imagine considering how dense the artist's output has been since his emergence.
What should you expect from a band with a drummer nicknamed "Cool" and comparisons to Dinosaur Jr, even sharing a birthplace with the Alternative legends? Loud rock and great riffs coming fast and loose. California X deliver a winning effort with their eponymous debut album for Don Giovanni Records.
From the instant "Sucker" bombards with kick drum and heavy guitar, California X feels familiar: that heavy sound making you grit your teeth. The riffs here are catchy enough to carry entire songs, much like how Yuck was able to do so by using only a handful of licks per song, never showing their full hand. But where Yuck failed to keep up a driving momentum, writing slower songs to accentuate the quicker ones, California X focus more on keeping people moving than a shift in dynamics. Though, the songs that do yield a little bit - "Pond Rot", "Lemmy's World", "Mummy" - are the better cuts from the record, resonating more than the others. The rest of the record is consistent in building up those memorable guitar lines, sometimes making the verses feel tacked on for lyrical purposes - this is understandable due to the saccharine nature of the guitar lines, being careful not to over sweeten songs with these catchy instrumental breaks. But it ends up being the instrumental breaks on the record that serve more purpose than the lyrics do, staying with you long after the words are digested.
What helps portray the larger, louder than studio sound on California X is the production of the drums. The drums are huge, filling a lot of the space on this record - the opening to "Lemmy's World" is a salient example. The drums are, in a lot of ways, an ersatz Steve Albini recording; and anything close to Albini-level drums should be considered an accomplishment. With a lot of the songs featuring a two-chord progression, the drums help move things along and keep the songs from settling. The vocals have the same filling effect as the drums in the mix, existing mostly as ethereal musings and nothing reveling in ennui like J Mascis often does. California X sounds a lot more fulfilled, or content, than any Dino Jr releases, when it comes to the vocals.
This is a sturdy debut from a band trying to escape its influences as much as it is comfortable with them - a dichotomy more and more bands are trying to decide which side to lean toward. California X is best when it's thoughtful, though, taking its time in the muck. And I can see California X getting better with touring, allowing songs to spawn out of their live show; a band like this can only benefit from turning up the amps, beating the drums, and letting adrenaline get the best of them.
Equal parts Pavement, Minutemen, and Replacements, Parquet Courts establish their own slacker, protester, Americana sound out of the stated influences. The kind of music your mom tells you to turn off, Light Up Gold is a sturdy gem. Their lack of effort perfectly sets out the sometimes - when the band feels like giving a shit - starkly abrasive lyrics; lines like "Socrates died in the fucking gutter" really pop in the quasi lo-fi mix. The cover of this record vaguely tells the story of the formerly Texan band relocating to New York City to try their hand at swimming in a bigger pond: an annotated picture of a ritual often associated with Texas -- that shouldn't seem pejorative toward the band, or simliar bands, especially when they're this good at relocating, advancing their sound.
Balancing the slacker mentality with some of the aggressive political songs is what makes Light Up Gold such a treat. It doesn't dwell on anything too serious for long. The Middle America anti-fight song "Careers in Combat" is followed by the two part cool down tracks titled after the record - it's a rest, letting the band and listener let what previously transpired sink in. So, as hard as anyone tries to draw conclusions about the band sounding too much like one of its aforementioned influences, the album's track listing and composure defends its originality in spades. "N Dakota" and "Stoned and Starving", the album's two best tracks, anchor the middle of the album perfectly; so rarely do people look forward to the meat of an album, often focusing on the openers and closers too closely. The latter track is a perfect example of how the slacker and Americana influences Parquet Courts cite blend so well together, with ease. "No Ideas" feels so lazy that it sounds like the band forgot to tune their guitars, nearly achieving Sonic Youth guitar harmonies.
While many people couldn't get over The Men's recent leanings toward The Replacements, Parquet Courts' Light Up Gold does Open Your Heart a favor in distancing it from those critics, further carving out the niche this brand of music is beginning to inhabit. I can't really see this being an Album of the Year contender, but it could easily fall into the middle of my list. And while it is somewhat original, none of the tracks are going to grab you instantly - it might take a few listens to full appreciate this album. This record is one of the few moving people away from the term "Indie" when describing music, an inappropriately coined genre, though it is inching it further into the "Rock" label, a term that feels stale from too much exposure.
There's an art in subtlety, and Roc Marciano knows this. If Action Bronson sounds like Ghostface - a claim which I find only discouraging to one of the best up-and-coming underground rappers - then Roc Marciano is certainly the Raekwon to Bronson's Ghost; Reloaded even implements the same stripped-down beats and movie samples Blue Chips featured. But what makes Marciano's efforts so notable is how cohesive this record is. If the album's opening track, "Tek to a Mack", teaches us anything, it's that Marciano is well aware of how talented he is and he's going to make damn sure you remember by the time the fifteenth track is done.
This feels like an album from the first wave of Wu-Tang solo records: the beats are simple, gritty; the words carry more weight with each listen; and there's nothing a life of drug dealing can teach you better than a unique flow carrying stories of the streets. And Roc almost carries the entire record with his spitting, using only two features. It's amazing how Roc's languid flow and tough guy voice never border on becoming tedious or repetitive - there's enough variety to warrant multiple listens, which is the goal of any word heavy album.
Roc Marciano has always been one of my favorite featured rappers on some notable raps albums - Sit Down, Man's "Roc Marciano Joint", Blue Chips' opener "Pouches of Tuna", and NY Finest's "It's So G" - and though I slept on 2010's Marcberg, I was excited to see this album announced. Though it isn't entirely produced by the rapper like his previous album, Marcberg, Reloaded does see Marciano bear most of the production weight, adding that auteur watermark; it is a controlled environment Marciano dwells in. The other beats are from lauded producers The Alchemist and Q-Tip - "no rookies, only veterans" seems to be Marciano's m.o. on Reloaded. This doesn't feel like someone sharpening their teeth, despite this being the rapper's second solo album, but someone who has seen the rise and fall of multiple ersatz rap revivalists.
If you're a hip-hop fundamentalist, this album will feel like a welcomed return to form. Marciano is a steam of conscious rapper spitting over low-key, boom-bap beats. "Not Told" slights Nas's outsider perspective vaguely, but Marciano is way too far along to pick any sort of beef with rappers, though I'm sure he'd have no problem squashing anything; he's focused on his own survival, not making any compromises along the way.
Yes, Good Kid came out over two weeks ago. Yes, it's a critically lauded album. But when an album carrying the weight of returning Compton back to its glory days, you take time with it. I have spent about three weeks with Kendrick's latest release. I had extremely high hopes, as I loved Section.80, and fellow Black Hippy releases from earlier this year, Habits & Contradictions and Control System. The aforementioned Black Hippy efforts solidified my confidence in the rap collective. And with just one more member needing a proper release, Jay Rock, this first wave of proper solo albums might end up being cited as the impetus for a west coast rap revival.
This album is a study in different flows, characters, beats, and styles, as much a result of his roots as his originality. Good Kid does as much for advancing the legacy of Compton as it does for paving the road for Black Hippy. ScHoolboy Q struck the iron first with Habits & Contradictions, Ab Soul threw a curve ball with Control System, and now Kendrick used every resource available to produce a modern masterpiece with Good Kid -- it's difficult to separate Kendrick from his colleagues due to the resurgence of the rap collective and the overall movement of recapturing Compton as a dominant rap force.
To focus on the album as a whole is difficult; it's dense. When a friend of mine, equally as excited for the release as I was, asked me how it sounded, I could only reply "dense." There's a lot here, more than I anticipated. Yes, it lacks the sudden impact and familiarity as Section.80, though Kendrick himself said it would be, though this album is also ready for radio: a Drake feature, an already charting single with "Swimming Pools, and Aftermath's backing. It's the contradictions, following ScHoolboy's lead, that demand multiple listens and your full attention. If properly marketed, this could spark an upheaval of what we consider marketable rap - music with substance and a message.
The songs' diversity make Good Kid feel like a mixtape and Kendrick the keystone, bearing the weight of progressing rap. A microcosm of the album is the lengthy, yet earned, "Sing About Me, I'm Dying of Thirst". To understand this song is to translate the entire album. It features multiple, well-developed characters; a helplessness cast by inheritance, the implausibility of escape; necessary skits, never feeling superfluous; and two distinct movements. Lamar's first character is a difficult concept to grasp at first, but certainly helps you grasp each character following. With the first listen, it's someone struggling with the loss of his brother, but with each listen a layer is revealed, finally displaying a meta character - it's Kendrick playing a fan of a pseudo-Kendrick rapper. The second character sees a former Kendrick song dedicated to a woman discredited by a working girl. She wants nothing to do with Kendrick's progressively messaged songs, quagmired in the working girl life, seeing his efforts as futile and exploitative. Lamar refutes his previous character's plight to be remembered in song, but by being in a song adds a layer of irony -- I told you this was layered and complex. This is a song of dedication to those trapped within the ghetto, fully aware that their mentality is set, but hoping someone, possibly Kendrick, will carry their message out of the void. Kendrick is the third character here, spitting a verse inundated with references and messages from Nas, Biggie, and the "classic" era of progressive hip-hop: a rapper accepting his position and influence, defending it. All of this is enough for entire album, but Kendrick one ups himself by adding a second movement to the song, shifting the dreamy beat with a skit detailing a turf dispute and revenge. A militaristic beat is brought forth, characters are thrown out. What follows is the most powerful four and a half minutes of music I have heard in recent memory: a litany of gruesome situations, rules to survive by, and an ever present struggle for change. This is Lamar's best song to date.
With an understanding of "Sing About Me, I'm Dying of Thirst", the rest of Good Kid seems much more serious, stripping back any humor displayed by Lamar's characters featured on the album. It's a jaw dropper the umpteenth listen thought that I believe will only get better with time, as the Black Hippy catalogue grows. I could go into as much detail with almost every other song on the album, but writing about "Sing About Me..." was exhausting, much like the first couple listens through Good Kid, M.A.A.D City. But this isn't a calculated obfuscation of art, it's organic music from a true human. Nothing is manufactured, and that, from an outside perspective, is horrifyingly eye-opening.
Final Grade: A+
I know, I know, such a bullshit grade and Flatted Third has already marked two albums as classics, but fuck you - have you heard this thing?
We all have those albums that completely fly under our radars. Last year, that was Chelsea Wolfe's Ἀποκάλυψις (pronounced Apokalypsis). I don't at all remember how I came about finding her, but I do remember the chilling sense I got from listening to the single "Mer"; dark but ultimately beautiful in every way. Released under Sargent House -- home to bands like Russian Circles and Daughters -- I had no clue what I was in for. I tagged her as some singer/songwriter that somehow must have snuck her way onto a metal label. But I was blown away with what I got. That amazement continued when I actually saw her open for Russian Circles at the Middle East in Boston this past summer. I was floored. To this day, I still consider her one of the top 5 acts I have ever seen live.
Now, as 2012 comes to an end, Chelsea Wolfe has released Unknown Rooms: A Collection of Acoustic Songs, a record that has been on my must listen list for months since its announcement. One thing that makes Chelsea so appealing is her pairing of vocal style with her unique style of music: some have called it "acoustic doom metal," which i think is very funny every time I see it. For me, Chelsea Wolfe is a blend of drone-metal and folk. In other words, think of Sunn o))) but with an actual melody, an acoustic guitar, and a pretty girl singing. None of this sounds bad, right?
Unknown Rooms is an excellent album, one that lived up to my expectations. The main reason being her ability to transition her plugged-in performance to a stripped-down acoustic guitar and strings arrangement. With Apokalypsis, many of her songs are lined with reverb and vocal effects that actually work in her favor (unlike some singers *COUGH* BEACH HOUSE *COUGH*). Instead of flattened vocals, Chelsea Wolfe treats her listener to something that has depth. It's haunting and dark, but again, one of the most beautiful female voices I've ever heard. This is what I believe sailors heard before crashing into a mess of rocks, leading to their ultimate death.
The album opens with "Flat Lands", the first single off the LP. It's simple, yet very effective, starting with just an acoustic guitar, then slowly building to more strings. You're soon treated to "Appalachia", a song closely resembling something you could hear on a Damien Rice release. Overall though, this release feels a bit short, running less than twenty-five minutes. One other thing that bothered me was Wolfe's choice to leave two extra tracks off, and leave them as bonus downloads. Both "Virginia Woolf Underwater" and "Gold" serve as the best tracks on the album, even though they don't really exists unless you buy them from iTunes. If you can, I highly recommend spending the $1.98 on both tracks- totally worth it.
Chelsea Wolfe has been described as gothic, as well as servery melancholy. As depressing as this may seem, from the darkness comes something beautiful; something where the term short but sweet actually exemplifies itself. And as annoying as it is that she left two of the best tracks off the album, the small amount it takes to listen to them is worth the asking price.
Final Grade: A-
For fans of: Sun o))), Russian Circles, Damien Rice -- It's difficult to describe, but hopefully this helps
“Blah blah blah the Monitor defined the past two years of my
life and LocalBusiness is a total
let down because blah blah blah.” I guarantee you’ll see most every negative
review of Titus Andronicus’s newest full-length Local Business begin with some variation of this line. Before I go
any further, yes, The Monitor did
define my freshman year of college; I played it into the fucking ground. I
learned the chords to “The Battle of Hampton Roads” and played it when I was
drunk. I toyed around with the idea of getting a tattoo dedicated to the band. The Monitor marks a confusing, often
frustrating time in my life that I’m glad to have survived. That being said, Local Business is not The Monitor, but I don’t consider that a
pejorative statement. Who wants to hear the same record twice?
Local Business, as its own entity, is a very strong release. The vision Patrick Stickles and co. puts forth is cohesive and defined. There are less instances of lyrical
interpolation and more existential crises. Stickles seems even more wary and
cautious of the world before him than he has previously.“Ecce Homo” kicks off the record with a confident, conversational manner. The build up for this record is
deliberate, though. “Still Life With Hot Deuce on Silver Platter” is where you
really gotta turn the volume up, because that track rips. The momentum barrels
through “Upon Viewing Oregon’s Landscape with the Flood of Detritus”, easily
the most energetic song, but with insanely bleak lyrics; arguably the darkest Stickles
has written.
The rug that ties the room together is found on “My Eating
Disorder”. Stickles is notoriously a proponent of three movement songs, and
this cut is no exception. By this point, Titus has honed this hobby of sorts
into a master craft. The first movement is catchy and angry. “No I haven’t had
dinner, what about it!?” The pathos continues into the second movement, with
just the repetition of the track’s name. Before you know it, we’re in the third
movement, with Stickles espousing “Spit It Out” in conjunction with the
heavy-ass guitar riff. There’s nothing technically complex about it, but
everything about this song screams like a twisted anthem.
A lot of the lyrics on Local Business reference or reflect statements Patrick Stickles has made on Twitter a number of times. Therefore, I felt more as if this was a very conversation album. These were ideas that have clearly been gestating for sometime, and it’s interesting that Twitter provided the first insight into the lyrical content.
If nothing else, Titus Andronicus knows how to structure an
album. We get “Titus Andronicus Vs. The Absurd Universe (3rd Round
KO)” which nicely transitions into the one-two punch of “In A Big City” and “In
A Small Body”. These songs perfectly exhibit the band’s shift towards less monumental
songs and more organic songs that incorporate a lot more piano. It’s a very
casualalbum, and the sound
compliments it quite nicely. Penultimate track “I Am The Electric Man” does
last a little too long for its own good, straddling the line between a
necessary comic relief and drawn out filler. The album ends on a high
(depressing) note with “Tried To Quit Smoking”. The strength here isn’t the
lyrics, but the music. On such an organic album, this ending is inevitable and
necessary.Say what you will, Titus
knows how to close.
Again, I’m sure there will be some negative reviews of Local Business focusing not on what the
album is, but how it's not The Monitor.
It’s a shame, because in its own right, Local
Business is an incredibly strong third record that deserves to be blasted.
Don't jude a book by its cover - no truer words have ever been frequently quoted, especially in literature and music. I absolutely hate the cover of this album, so much so that I put off listening to it when it was first critically lauded. Then, Pitchfork implored their faithful readers to pick it up, furthering my skepticism. It took one of my friends to tweet about how lucky we were to get Frank Ocean's "Thinking 'Bout You" and Miguel's "Adorn" in the same year; boy, was he ever right: this album feels like a gift, insight to Miguel's mind. It was that little bit of pathos that put me over the edge, and I finally checked out Kaleidoscope Dream.
"Adorn" is just as adept as "Thinking 'Bout You" is to open an album, but the twist here is Miguel produced the song, along with getting co-credits on a lot of the other songs, and there are even other songs on here solely produced by the singer himself, "Pussy Is Mine" and "Candles in the Sun". The songs on Kaleidoscope Dream aren't stripped down or simple; they're maximalist, sounding like something Janelle Monáe would sing over -- actually, that would be a pretty amazing collaboration. I can best describe these songs as "What Prince would make, had he been from the year 2032." Miguel's voice is sharp and pointed, effortlessly crafting melodies from thin air. I couldn't tell you a moment on this album that doesn't feel organic, and it's because of Miguel's understanding of his own voice.
One of my favorite moments on the album comes in the last fifty-five seconds of "Don't Look Back" where an undulating synth line, seemingly from nowhere, backs Miguel crooning, finally ending with the line, "It's the time of the season for loving." I don't think anyone else could possibly utter that line with any severity and pull it off. It seems like everything on this album works, which seems harder and harder to do in a genre that was deemed a joke in the late nineties when New Jack took a turn for the worse. It's great to see 2012 have some of the best R&B albums I've heard since Voodoo - it's hard not to use D'Angelo as a benchmark.
The most adventurous part of Kaleidoscope Dream comes with the eponymous song. You may recognize the sample immediately, as it's the same from Eminem's "My Name Is", arguably the rapper's biggest song. To challenge such an institution of a song, and to be completely successful, is something special. He makes it all his own.
While Frank Ocean challenged everything R&B had previously established about sexuality and love, Miguel expands the genre outward, showing a glimpse of growth within itself. And, although Kaleidoscope Dream isn't vying for a top spot on my personal year end list like Channel Orange is, that certainly doesn't discredit anything accomplished on this record. It's witty, fun, craftily produced, and a much needed release to move R&B out of R. Kelly's closet.
Final Grade: A-
P.S. Check out Miguel's spirited performance of "Adorn" on "Letterman"
I first listened to Trash Talk around 2007 or 2008 when I
was in high school and didn’t really have a good grasp on hardcore. On the
recommendation of a forum I frequented, I checked out their self titled and I
hated it. I just absolutely hated it. It was so noisey and abrasive and had no
discernible song structure, and I was just a little baby who liked pop-punk. It
was a horrible introduction to hardcore and I wasn’t comfortable checking them
out again until I had really gotten into the genre.
Now, five years later, they’ve released 119.
I’m sure that if this was the record I was introduced to in high school, I
would have gotten into hardcore much earlier. That’s not necessarily a compliment,
but at the same time, I’m not deriding it outright. 119, if nothing else, is accessible. It’s loud, but not noisy; it’s political, but not in a complex way; it’s fast, but not thrash; and finally, It’s slow
but never gets to the apex of stoner hardcore. It’s essentially tailor-made as a jumping off point for people who haven’t listened to hardcore. That’s
not a bad thing though. There’s nothing bad with being a “gateway” band for a
genre. Exclusivity is dumb, so if you can get a person into a genre, great.
I guess this album is just a bit disappointing. It always
feels as if it’s going to break and explode into the glorious exercise of
violence that Trash Talk was in the past, but it never really does. 119 is essentially a longer, less
noisey, more boring version of last year’s Awake
EP. Well, perhaps boring is a bit harsh. I do enjoy listening to this album, and skating to it is quite fun.
It has a much stronger first half than it does second. “Eat the Cycle” is a
great opener and “My Rules” is enjoyable mosh bait. The only really, really
strong song on the album is lead single “F.E.B.N.” Things get dicey about the
time the band decided to have Hodgy Beats and Tyler, The Creator spit verses on
“Blossom and Burn”, a song that otherwise would have been the stand out track
of 119. I understand the band
probably enjoys working with their bosses - as they are signed to Odd Future
Records - but this was the largest misstep of the entire record. Hodgy’s verse
is passable, as it fits in with the mix, but Tyler’s verse is god-awful. I’ve
never been Tyler’s biggest fan, but the verse is embarrassing. I’m a big
believer that hip-hop and hardcore, at their roots, are very similar and can be
used together to great effect. I still believe that, but “Blossum and Burn”
certainly is not that product. From there, the record just tends to drag. 119 is only 22 minutes, but it feels
like 35, which is a far too ambitious time marker for a hardcore band.
If you have any interest in hardcore but don't know where to
start, 119 is a good jumping off
point. If you like hardcore and haven’t listened to Trash Talk, skip 119 and just listen to Awake.
Metz are a heavy trio of dudes from Toronto that play a noisy garage rock most like The Jesus Lizard but a bit heavier. It's not the music that is necessarily heavier, but the production is covered with a patina of grime and fuzz that smells like teen spirit - you'll understand more about that "joke", and not roll your eyes so much, when you understand the band's simple song structure. It is most reminiscent of a less dynamic and experimental Heavier Than Air Flying Machines, who released last year's excellent Siam, one of my favorite records of that year. The difference in vocals is stark between the two bands yet the musicality of the band's is very similar.
Metz starts off with the excellent romping "Headache", which sounds like when Daughters got a little poppy with its rhythm section on their last album, Daughters. There is a slight noisy interlude, then the "ohs" that started the song close it out. There aren't a lot of "wow, that was completely original" moments, but the song certainly doesn't suck, and it is one of the highlights of the album; and there are only a few of them, as the record is less than thirty minutes long.
Metz continue to implement some traditional song structure throughout the album, only veering off the path on tracks like "Wet Blanket" and the previously released "Negative Space" - the latter song is actually what originally piqued my interest in the band when they were featured on one of Spin's list of artists to watch. These tracks are memorable and add another dimension to Metz's sound, but every other song on the album sort of has a similar feel. I didn't walk away from multiple listens being able to discern which song featured parts I liked - it all sort of felt like one long song or setlist, which isn't such a bad thing when your formula works. And I feel like, in Metz's case, the sound does work, but only for a short time.
Sure, this is a fun release that could perfectly score a hooligan's last stand with cops circling the supermarket he has held hostage, albeit for less than a half-hour, but there isn't a lot of new featured on this album. I've heard this kind of music before, either much harder or a little softer, so it doesn't feel like something I will be suggesting to any friends - well, at least not to anyone who enjoys poppy music. I was able to complete this review in under ten minutes, which is funny because that's how much of Metz's music will stick with me. So if this album interests you, go over to Heavier Than Air Flying Machines's website and download Siam; it's a much more entertaining listen.
I guess The Mountain Goats weren't content with releasing just an album just last year; they had enough material for two, this year's Transcendental Youth. The latest effort sees John Darnielle and the gang a little more comfortable with their characters, not to mention the happier sound of the tunes -- well, I guess happy for The Mountain Goats. There are obviously moments of losing your cool - "Lakeside View Apartment Suite" feels almost like a Jack's Mannequin song, up until the protagonist pukes in the sink. But what Transcendental Youth does for the Mountain Goats' discography is add another dimension to its already padded reputation -- I don't see anyone trying to rip off their sound, but I can definitely see Darnielle's songwriting being cited influential in many years to come.
"Amy aka Spent Gladiator 1" kicks off the record, an ode to Amy Winehouse and any other youthful sprites living for the moment. "Just stay alive" is the chorus, endearingly honest and true. It's a shame Winehouse could never collaborate with The Mountain Goats, as I think that would produce a successful, if not completely strange, result; I understand that would be almost as random as the tribute itself, but apparently Darnielle had a message for the late songstress strong enough to produce a song. Transcendental Youth continues to build on the success of the opening track, ending with the beautiful eponymous closing track.
The Mountain Goats expand more on the full band they have established in recent releases by adding a horn section to most of the songs. "Cry for Judas" sounds a bit like a Beirut song with the horn section taking charge throughout most of the track. And although the tracks here are have a lot more pep than what was featured on All Eternals Deck, the lyrics still point toward the helplessness you can expect from the band.
What can be extrapolated from Transcendental Youth is The Mountain Goats extend their winning streak long enough to be inspired by contemporary artists, while still maintaining their structure and sound. There's no "See America Right" or "This Year" on the record, but once all the melodies and lyrics sink in, you won't feel like you wasted your time listening. I would be happy with releases like All Eternals Deck and Transcendental Youth every year, if they are as stable as The Mountain Goats' releases continue to be. I don't see this record as a reinvention or anything that will blow people away, though it's a solid exercise for a band that is ever-shifting laterally, comfortable and confidant with what they create.
A nice trend Flatted Third has shown lately is the welcoming of fall, and with it, the onslaught of new and season-appropriate music. Also, right off the heels of Kyle's 3 Huge October Albums mini-list, we are treated with an early listen of Flying Lotus' new album Until the Quiet Comes. And what a treat it is.
Electronic music is new to me. I was only introduced to it 3 or 4 years ago by close friends in college. Looking at all the music that comes from it though scares me sometimes, which got me a bit nervous about writing this review. Electronic music has so many sub-genres it just became a confusing mess to me (which is odd because you can say the same thing about metal for the most part). I've thankfully come to a point where I know what my style is and what I like, and Flying Lotus is top of the list.
For old listeners, Until the Quiet Comes will feel pretty familiar to his first album, 1983. Filled with a blend of nu-jazz and hip-hop influenced beats, Flying Lotus was able to make a name for himself - something other than "that guy who creates the music for bumps on Adult Swim." But with his newest release, we see a whole new DJ. This is part of Flying Lotus' appeal; he strives to evolve and challenge himself with every album he releases. With this new LP, get ready to be treated with more jazz influenced hip-hop beats, but with a more low beat sound and tempo to it.
The first track "All In" sets the mood for the entire album. Unlike Cosmogramma's insane opener, you're treated with a much calmer beat, leading into one of the best tracks on the album "Getting There". For a majority of the first half, old fans will notice a much more polished, lo-fi beat. Things seem to meld together fluidly, sending the listener into a sort of calming zen -- which for me, blends together appropriately with the upcoming fall season. "Sultan's Request" and Putty Boy Strut" feel like classic cuts that would've fit easily on any previous LP he's released. The latter half of this album does provide some of the more weaker material (though I say this lightly). "Only If You Wanna" feels reminiscent of a Nicolas Jaar track; lazy beats over some slight horns breaks the whole mood of the album. Until the Quiet Comes does a fantastic job keeping a certain pace and feel, throughout its whole listen. From start to finish, Flying Lotus is able to throw in his signature mixes and beats ("See Thru to U", "Electric Candyman") while incorporating a whole new side to his constantly evolving releases. For some fans, this may be a big change of pace from what he's previously recorded. Yes, a few tracks do sound lazy, but this is an unbelievable release. Flying Lotus is a good showcase in just how far an artist is willing to go to keep his music fresh and fun, and for him, it works perfectly.
Grade: A
For fans of: Bibio, Burial, Fourtet, Madvillian
Check out his new video for the song "Putty Boy Stut" off the new LP
When you see Dinosaur Jr. is releasing another album, their tenth, you know what to expect going in: J Mascis's slurry ennui, ripping solos, solid musicianship, and a good listen - this is exactly what I Bet on Sky amounts to. The album is concrete, nothing special, nothing that will top a year end list, nothing that will change how you think about the indie rock stalwarts.
I Bet on Sky does have its highlights, obviously, but they never shine bright enough to lift the entire effort above average. "Watch the Corners", the album's first single, is a great romping track -- the video is equally awesome, having been produced by Funny or Die and featuring Tim Heidecker as an angry dad -- but nothing feels new about it.
Referencing Farm, Dinosaur's 2009 effort, I noticed it had a little pep and energy to it, with songs like "I Want You to Know" and "There's No Here", but it also had lazy balancing songs "Said the People" and "Plans" that built and undulated. I Bet on Sky seems to have J, Lou, and Murph's half-attention; no one really steps out. Sure, there are some added keyboards in songs and Lou sings lead a few times, but nothing reinvents the wheel here.
Assuring the exercise is not entirely wasted -- and that I finish my compliment sandwich -- "Almost Fare" adds some extra country instrumentation and provides an entertaining listen; it's a fun song that would fit perfectly into a spring into summer playlist. Album highlight "What Was That" starts with a usual Mascis epic guitar riff, but then tumbles into a hefty Lou Barlow bass jam, finally finishing with the band implementing some attack and release, much like what can be found on You're Living All Over Me. "See it on Your Side" is an excellent closer, as it makes everything before it seem like it was just the legendary band stretching before a big finish; I guess it's always important to go out big.
So as we near the 25th anniversary of You're Living All Over Me, we find a band still playing together, since reuniting in 2005, and sometimes trying new things. But when I first listened through I Bet on Sky, I found myself trying to find just what exactly makes Dinosaur Jr. so important, often reviewing their older material, and getting caught up, forgetting to reference forward to I Bet on Sky; all of this created a really disorientating process -- I think I'll go listen to Bug and You're Living All Over Me.
Final Grade: C+
P.S. You can check out the album, streaming in its entirety, over at NPR.
2009 saw Grizzly Bear's Veckatimest play bridesmaid to Merriweather Post Pavilion on more than a few year end lists, including Metacritic's all important total list - Grizzly Bear took eighth that year of all music, second in critics' top lists. This year we see Animal Collective, Baroness, Mount Eerie and Dirty Projectors all come out with records; the only difference in 2012 is that Grizzly Bear is in pole position to take more than a couple year end lists.
Shields, from the moment "Sleeping Ute" starts to where "Sun in Your Eyes" ends, is abrasive, gorgeous, and fully engrossing, never feeling hindered or forced - the first time I previewed the album my jaw gave way. The album, in a year where Indie's heavy hitters all planned releases, far exceeds any expectations I had for it - and my expectations were extremely high, having been severely disappointed by both The xx and Animal Collective.
On the surface, Grizzly Bear haven't done much to change up their sound, not like Animal Collective seeing the reunion with Deakin ultimately producing a "too many cooks in the kitchen" situation and maximalist poppycock. It's still the same full band that released Yellow House in 2006, but Grizzly Bear continues to grow. Songs like "Yet Again" and "What's Wrong" perfectly blend elements from Yellow House and Veckatimest, while "Adelma" sees the band's first use of a purely instrumental interlude track, one that has its own movement and doesn't request a skip; Shields is perfectly planned out and executed to be an album, and entity.
While Veckatimest was dark, at some times even brooding, Shields seems much more cheerful: a band comfortable with its current state of affairs. Grizzly Bear has always impressed me with its use of acoustic and electric guitar - a formula so traditional that I try to avoid any music labeled as such - but they always sound fresh and inventive, despite their tried and true formula. The non-traditional tunings, brittle electric guitar tones, and syncopated rhythms are what make Grizzly Bear unique in the already too specific freak-folk genre.
I can see Shields taking a lot of critics' top spots on their year-end lists, not just because of how inconsistent this years' followup records were, but certainly by its own accord. A gigantic display of raw talent, originality, and growth are what make Shields my favorite record of the year so far -- so sorry, Mr. Ocean.
You might remember a short lived show on MTV called “From G’s to Gents”. It featured a number of young men seeking to reform their umm... “urban idiosyncrasies” and become proper gentlemen. The show only lasted two seasons and didn’t prompt any spinoff’s. In fact, I’m pretty sure the show’s host, Fonzworth Bentley, went back to holding Diddy’s umbrella to pay off his Howard student loans (I’m not entirely sure he went to Howard or if that joke is racist). However, someone did emerge from this reality show a star in his own right.
Riff Raff, hailing from Houston, Texas was eliminated by the 2nd episode of season 2. But that’s all he needed. This was the perfect amount of fame needed to springboard his career. However, Riff Raff possessed a marketable “skill," unlike many reality stars who try to make a lifelong career out of what should only amount in short term fame.
It was not Riff Raff’s rapping ability which kept him relevant after his brief stint on MTV. To be completely honest, he’s rarely consistent with his verses, at times meandering through tracks like a drunk ESL student.
Riff Raff has made some waves in the music world in the past through his attempts to stay relevant.
First, he adopted his own brand of SEO. By adding “MTV” to his Youtube handle (MTVRiFFRaFF) his videos would appear in the sidebar in all of MTV’s official videos. After some of his music videos and home movies began surpassing MTV’s videos in search results, they threatened to sue and he took the tag off his username. He added SODMG (which I can’t be bothered to care with this stands for) to his Youtube and Twitter handles after reportedly signing a deal with Soulja Boy’s label. But, the deal fell through, or maybe never even existed at all. That’s the way Riff Raff rolls. He deals in deception.
More recently, he signed a 7 album deal with Mad Decent. According to some sources, which might just be Riff Raff himself, the deal was apparently worth seven figures. All parties involved, including label owner Diplo, are keeping quiet on the exact terms of the contract.
Arguably the most important trait when trying to dissect Riff Raff is his insane sense of self-awareness. Riff represents everything that was wrong with Hip-Hop by the end of the Noughties, when artists like Soulja Boy, Nelly and the Ying Yang Twins have rose and fell from fame after they had become parodies of themselves and the genre as a whole; and he knows this. Riff Raff’s rhymes hail us back to a time when braggadocio surrounding one’s wealth, whether is was truth or fiction, was commonplace in both underground and commercial rap. But, Rapping about your garage full of cars and the price of your chain is no longer en vogue in the current hip hop and economic climate.
As the underground took a turn towards the harrowing and soulful, Riff trudged through, not paying any attention to the trends adopted by his contemporaries, staying “true” to himself -- or the version of himself he created: a point debated later -- authentically inauthentic. It is this commitment to his character...for lack of a better word, which has led some to label Riff Raff as a “performance artist," rather than believe that a human like this can actually exist and accept the decline of western civilization as a whole. The idea that Riff Raff is an innovation from the mind of a pretty clever hip hop fan from Houston seeking to point out the udder fucking ridiculousness of other white southern rappers isn’t that farfetched. I think the general consensus among fans is that Riff is more of a one man Spinal Tap.
Much like the Rock and Roll invention of Rob Reiner, Riff Raff’s music is at times infectious and catchy (Riff , Tap). It’s also seems like a pretty clear parody of everything that critics use to rail against the genre as a whole during a particular period. However, at the end of the day Nigel Trufnel takes off his wig and spandex pants, puts on his pajamas, and goes to bed Christopher Guest.
But Riff Raff doesn’t sleep.
Or wear pajamas.
End rant.
Riff Raff’s debut mixtape Birth of an Icon is probably not what you might expect after reading the description of him above. Despite some of his flaws as an MC/human being, he takes his craft seriously, and there are many points on this mixtape where that shines through. Sometimes he tries to take himself too seriously or goes out on a limb, fails, but comes right back with something you can bounce to.
The mixtape starts of with the Caspa produced slow jam “Jody Highroller”, named after his soulful after ego/twitter handle/actual name. The feel of this track is in stark contrast to most of Riff’s other previously released jams, but not the last time he explores his softer side on this mixtape. There’s also “Lil Mama”, “Don’t Wait” and “Only I Can Cure Your Broken Heart” where Jody croons about some of his lost loves. The tracks are both listenable and help round out the “emotional spectrum” of the mixtape, something that Riff wants to remind everyone that he has, but there’s really nothing spectacular about them.
The other standout track on this mixtape - if only for how different it is - “Time” is Riff Raff’s chance to right the wrongs he committed on his way to the top (which is actually somewhere towards the middle, but hey, a false sense of self importance never killed anyone). This weird attempt at trying to get deep comes off as very insincere and contrived, even for a guy who still wears fronts. Also, the fact that its uses a Plain White T’s sample doesn’t help.
But if you’re willing to get on board with Riff Raff and his image, which includes his flow that can be kept up with at times he dances around the beat, there is a lot of fun to be had with this mixtape. “Jose Canseco”, “Rap Game King Tut” and “Terror Wrist” probably best sum up what I mean, and also give you the best idea Riff’s overall style. There’s a bunch of clever rhymes about ice and cars, as well as some catchy as hell hooks.
Where this mixtape really peaks for me is on all the collaborative tracks. There’s “Bird on A Wire” with Bronx based MC Action Bronson, which I would label as one of the overall strongest tracks on the album. It’s noticeably a bit smoother than some of the other songs and Bronson’s deep outer borough accent and the flavor that comes along with it makes a nice contrast to Riff’s higher pitched voice and slightly noticeable southern drawl and diction.
So, my advice is this: Pick up this mixtape and have fun with it. Keep bumping the songs you like and don’t give a second chance to the ones you can’t get into. Don’t worry, you’re not going to miss anything. There’s really not much to be gained by a second critical listen to Birth of an Icon. There’s nothing deeper hiding beneath the surface of any of these tracks.
But I don’t know if I can say the same for Riff Raff.
The band that launched a million blog posts, everyone's favorite neo-psychedelic-folk-pop-rock band, that band that Avey Tare and Panda Bear play in, Animal Collective, released their latest album, Centipede Hz, about two weeks before its proper release via radio station - I wrote an opinion article about what the early stream meant last week. It shouldn't be a surprise that people ripped the stream, sorted the MP3s, and leaked webrips of the album. I refrained from downloading until a proper album rip was leaked, and it has been, obviously. So I have previewed the album a few times and this is what I have concluded: they still deserve every decible of buzz, but may be grounding out.
It pains me to say that I'm an Animal Collective fan - as soon as you admit it, you're grouped in with the "hipsters." They certainly are what most people consider the quintessential "hipster" band -- if you're wondering why "hipster" is always quoted, check out this article on Flatted Third. But it's not hard to be a fan of the enigmatic band; they've released solid, original material for about a decade now. With a track record including Sung Tongs, Feels, Strawberry Jam, Merriweather Post Pavilion, and Fall Be Kind, Animal Collective will be a band that continues to draw attention until the music begins to lack, which Centipede Hz may be the flag boy for. Fall Be Kind, the band's last proper release, followed the almost mainstream breakthrough of Merriweather Post Pavilion with slow, minimal, and effective, while Merriweather found a band adding as many instruments as could fit, certainly more electronics than earlier releases. This shift to what sounded like the electronic version of Campfire Songs left fans wondering where the AnCo would go next. Well, Centipede Hz continues to build of the progress of Merriweather, with poppier, maximized songs, but also features some meandering jams. This leaves Fall Be Kind as strictly an exercise and not a progression for later releases.
The return of Deakin, who sat out during both the recording and touring of Merriweather Post Pavilion, Centipede Hz creates some beautiful production, samples, and song bridges. Also, to much surprise, Deakin even sings lead on a track, the stomping "Wide Eyed", which ends with a Person Pitch-esque time shift at the end. Although the bridge from "New Town Burnout" to "Monkey Riches" is as beautiful as it is mechanical, making the track seem as though they are cut from the same clothe, "Wide Eyed" does nothing for the album. The Deakin cut lies in the middle of the record and just sort of stays at the same pace with random stops and starts, never really sounding interesting or beckoning multiple listens. Deakin's return is certainly a give and take, but it's always nice to reinforce the use of "collective" in the band's title.
The record begins with "Moonjock", a 7/4 romp that could have seen a spot on Merriweather. From there, the band jam packs instruments and melodies into the excellent single "Today's Supernatural", but this is where the album takes an interesting turn with "Rosie Oh". The song is collected and smooth, sounding like a dialed back "For Reverend Green". "Applesauce" is a trippy-go-happy Avey song that doesn't fail to deliver pop like you've never hear it before. The first four songs establish the head of Centipede Hz as an excellent effort.
"Wide Eyed", as mentioned before, lacks anything special, but the trio of "Father Time", "New Town Burnout" and "Monkey Riches" pick the album right back up. Even with the seventeen minute, three song recovery, the album dips again with "Mercury Man", a song with a weak beginning but extremely strong, bass-filled finish - it's not a bad song, but it could have been a lot shorter, as a lot of the other songs on Centipede Hz could be, and is a testament of poor album flow.
"Amanita" finishes off the album, named after a genus of mushrooms that offers some of the most deadly species. The song details a hiking trip that dips further and further into bright and colorful depths, until everything is washed away in delay, a fitting end for an album that is as dense as it is frustrating.
It's too bad "Honeycomb" or "Gotham" didn't make the cut because I really enjoyed those singles. The latter featured a sound commonly found on Feels, my personal favorite of the AnCo catalogue; it would have fit perfectly in the meat of Centipede Hz, easily able to replace Deakin's "Wide Eyed" or even the tail end's "Mercury Man". "Honeycomb" would have a much more difficult time fitting into the record, as it comes off as a standalone single.
It seems that when you strip away all the excess production and instruments, Centipede Hz is just solid, almost traditional songs in an inconsistent package. That isn't to say that it's a bad release, just something a fan wouldn't list as his or her favorite. This comes as a disappointment, to me at least, because I really enjoyed both Merriweather and Fall Be Kind for two completely different reasons. And I would have loved to have seen how those two sounds meshed. Oh well.
Grade: B
P.S. Check out this great interview by Stereogum with the band about the recording process, and watch the band's video for "Today's Supernatural" below:
Psychologist Abraham Maslow places self-actualization at the top of his hierarchy of needs, the ability to accept one's own being for what it is. It is not until we are placed outside of our comfort zones that this is tested most, and also given a comparative entity. Dan Deacon prefaces his newest release, America, with a beautiful tale of how he never really identified as "American" until he left the country on a world tour. What he sets out to do on America is provide his own definition of what it is to be "American," challenging both the world view and personal self-reflection.
America debuts with "Guilford Avenue Bridge", a sprawling, complex track that seems to lift itself languidly out of a static caul. At about the three minute point, the static comes back but molded into a colorful mass, undulating engagingly. From that point, the album continues Deacon's "HOLY SHIT, LET'S PARTY" music, right up until "Prettyboy", a veiled slow jam much like Spiderman of the Rings' "Big Milk". Deacon is completely aware of the song's effect on the album flow, as he follows it with the crescendoing "Crash Jam", a track so aptly named and paced. But it is what comes after "Crash Jam" that makes America such a noteworthy release from the Maryland-based artist.
"Crash Jam" is followed by a suite in four parts, each title starting with "USA." The first of which, "USA I: Is a Monster", starts out with symphonic strings followed by the over-torqued electronics Deacon has made his trademark. These saliently evoke the dichotomy between organic and digital instruments Deacon mentions in his cathartic tale most. By introducing what sound like Native American tribal chants, he begins his direct narrative of American history. "USA II: The Great American Desert" takes over where "Is a Monster" deposits all its dial tone feedback and frantic loops, finally taking shape at about the 1:30 mark. The seven minute track reintroduces Deacon's vocals, which have been heavily coded in digital artifacts throughout the album, now coated with a shining layer of reverb, an ethereal result. It drags on a little toward the five minute mark, for a whole minute, until almost all the digital instruments give way to xylophones and drums, eventually flowing over into pizzicato strings that transition into "USA III: Rail", the most beautiful of the four part suite. By the end of "Rail", I am reminded of what Sufjan Stevens was doing on Illinois, with its sweeping instrumentation and arrangements. Where we end, "USA IV: Manifest", has Deacon going back to the overcrowded digital realm he's from, ostensibly the America he most identifies with. It combines different elements from the first three parts into a track that appropriately evokes the strong song title. "Manifest" breaches into clarity at 2:25 and resolves accordingly; finally, the journey of self-actualization is complete and Deacon has found an America he can identify with: his own.
What we're left with at the end of America is an album that struggles with as much as it accomplishes. If you're a fan of Dan Deacon, the release should find you pleased with the growing pains. If you're just a dabbler in electronic music, America may confound you. But the album is dense, rewarding, and challenging, as most great albums are, so be sure not to sleep on this one.
Grade: B+
P.S. Be sure to check out the super fun video for "True Thrush"
In 2011, metal giants Mastodon released their fifth full length album, The Hunter. Though the album garnered some pretty positive reviews, fans of the band were polarized. The Hunter marked a new direction that the band was taking; it may or may not be permanent, but for the time being, Mastodon started to do something many fans didn't appreciate: they started having fun.
Why start this review with a Mastodon album from last year you ask? The reason behind it lies in the recent wave of "pop-centeric" metal that has been released. First, there was Mastdon in 2011. In 2012, Florida sludge-metal group Torche released their new LP, Harmonicraft. And now, summer has brought the long anticipated double album from the Georgia metal band, Baroness. Admittedly, there is a certain "pop" to these records, but each band still holds true to the metal genre they are reshaping for this new generation.
All except for Baroness.
Although Yellow still follows the band's vision of a new sound, it also feels familiar, which will more than likely calm some fears fans may have over this album. Yellow opens up similarly to Green, but as soon as the theme ends, "Take My Bones Away" instantly comes through with a sludge riff that essentially kicks off the mood for the rest of the album. Here, Baroness is showing off a more polished band; the time for harmonized screams and nonstop heaviness seems to be behind them.
The largest amount of change fans will notice though comes from Green, the latter half of the double album. Green starts off incredibly slow with its theme; minimal drums and reverb heavy chords soon give way to the anthem-like break that I can only describe as having a post-rock, hair-metal feel. The next 40 minutes are essentially a test when you first listen to Green. The slight heaviness from Yellow
is replaced with a more ambient, post-rock feel. One thing that makes this particular album so enjoyable is that it doesn't feel boring. Baroness lines Green with airy tracks that are meant to calm the listener, taking them through a new mellowed out version of the band. "Board Up the House" offers a taste of hard rock, but then glides through tracks like "Stretchmarker" and "If I Forget Thee, Lowcountry" showcasing how versatile Baroness can be.
Many fans are angry with the new direction though, more often than not, for the wrong reasons. While looking at their recent video for "Take My Bones Away", there was a YouTube comment a user left stating his displeasure for the band's new album and direction. Throughout his musings, he kept citing "They are having fun now, just like Mastodon has been, and it has ruined all the good parts of the band." This really got me thinking; since when are bands not allowed to have fun while they play their own music? Fans act as if these bands owe us something, which in reality, they don't. They provide us with hours of listening entertainment, and we thank them by tormenting their music and criticizing it to no ends. If you are familiar with The Simpsons (if not, try to be. I know my wonderful friend/blog frontman Kyle Murphy will reference it NUMEROUS times), entertainment tells us that they don't owe us. If anything, we owe them.
For anyone afraid of listening to this new double album, I'll leave you with this quote from an interview with PitchforkTV.The thing about changing - gaining and losing fans - it shouldn't be part of the thought process when you craft an album. The only thing that should ever matter are the songs - "Are we genuine; are we moving forward?"
I have obtained a leaked copy of The xx's Coexist. After a couple of listens all the way through, I have reached a conclusion on my first impression of the album: It's lackluster.
What made The xx so interesting was their use of minimalism to inspire such a burning, grand sound. Every track glistened or was so covered in darkness, only an outline of something larger was broadcasted. It was the beautiful dichotomy between songs like "Shelter" and "Crystalized" that drew a listener into a constant rotation of the record. XX bloomed; Coexist sprouts, revealing an almost unfinished product.
All of these dark, sparse songs come as a huge surprise considering Jamie XX, the band's producer and beat maker, revealed what would be the first details about Coexist, in an interview with Pitchfork:
I think it will definitely sound different than the last album and anything I've ever done, just because our ears have been opened to so much music. Two years ago, I wouldn't have dreamed of listening to most of the stuff I listen to now. Like, I wasn't interested in techno and house at all before but, when I was in Chicago, I bought a bunch of Dance Mania records from the 80s and 90s, and I've listened to a lot of that.
I had Coexist pinned to be more of the dance inspired bass music Jamie XX was doing solo, or the Gil-Scott Heron remix album. I was sure the record would be a lot more of the stuff I loved off of XX, but with more "danceability." What Coexist does do is create a dark veil over the music, one that I'm sure will eventually lift, revealing a melancholic beauty, but for the first time through, it feels too shrouded.
With singles "Angels" and "Chained", The xx displayed the usual slow build, but with shifty, unpredictable drums. These features only make slight appearances in the other songs on the album, "Missing" being a highlight of this; you can feel the heartbeat, uncertainty, and hurt in the production. "Try" starts off with an eery guitar riff, yet it seems to stay at the same pace and never really excites. A lot of other songs, like "Tides" and "Our Song", feel almost like sketches or outlines for a larger song, never fully building into anything.
But maybe this is exactly where The xx is going, a starless yearning that is never fulfilled. It certainly doesn't produce anything you can show to someone and have them instantly latch onto, much like what XX accomplished. For right now, after a half-dozen listen throughs, Coexist feels more like an "honorable mention," for what it aims for, than a "best of," because of what it accomplishes.
-America.jpeg)
