Rantings, reviews and lists from a person who structures half his life around obsessing over music.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend (2008)

4.5 ★/9.0 - 9.9

Vampire Weekend couldn't have picked a better name for themselves. Vampires are an inherently serious species, championing their purity and inhuman superiority above all other creatures. Their humor is dry and their pride is unmatched. Actually, their similarity to stereotypical hipsters in today's indie subculture is uncanny. But even Vampires need to take a break from all that strict doom and gloom sometimes and have some fun. Hopefully Vampire Weekend's joyful self titled LP will also be a wake up call for all indie snobs to just turn off their brain and enjoy themselves. You see, Vampire Weekend contains all the regal conventions of a pitchfork-darling debut: originated from New York City, slurred vocals ala Arctic Monkeys, obscure influences (Afro-Pop, David Byrne, Paul Simon) and a quirky, "cleverer-than-thou" approach. But the music doesn't dare take itself any more seriously than a tip-toe-through-the-tulips, fun-in-the-sun, dance on the beach. I suppose that's why the band has been called The Strokes of 2008. In terms of sound, they're pretty far apart, but both of their debuts feel so simple, effortless and well...fun. Remember when music was just fun? Take apart their background and what you have should be high-art. But look at the result and what you have is simply a good time. Perhaps that's where all the backlash for these NME cover bands comes from. When music this simple and carefree gets big, people just tend to over-think it. Or maybe they're just angry that they didn't think of it first. Whatever the reason is behind hating them, let this be a plea to everyone to let go of their suspicions, because without it, Vampire Weekend will bring joy to your life like no other. Read more...

Monday, January 14, 2008

The Magnetic Fields - Distortion (2008)

3.5 ★/7.0 - 7.9

By now, we should be keenly aware of Stephen Merritt's laziness when it comes to album titles. 69 Love Songs was literally 69 songs about love, i was a bunch of songs starting with the letter I, and Distortion is...well...distorted...for the entirety of the album. Think Jesus And Mary Chain style screeching noise and reverb drums blanketing syrupy pop hooks and you've pretty much heard this album. But as generic as some of these songs are ("Till The Bitter End", "Mr. Misletoe" and "California Girls" could've been cut), it's still nice to see Magnetic Fields forge an actual album. Their last two works supposedly had concepts behind them, but musically there was absolutely no connection between any of their songs. i hardly had an identity in and of itself; it might as well have been called 14 More Love Songs. Distortion at least benefits from having a recognizable sound and unity amongst it's tracks. Oh and also from the catchy melodies, as usual. "Three Way" sounds like a shoegazer update to the opener of David Bowie's Low. The quirky "Xavier Says" and kinky "The Nun's Litany" are beaming with exuberance. "Old Fools" is just plain gorgeous, nearly rivaling the heartbreaking closer, "Courtesans", while "Drive On Driver" is a festive square dance slowed down and led by a whirlwind of guitar and synths.

From Santa Clause and Miseltoe mentions to it's romantically twinkling haze, Distortion is a traditionally dull Christmas album at heart. Most of the songs' whimsy and even some of the melodies fit in comfortably right next to well known carols. But what makes it worthwhile is how Stephen Merrit, with his cynical whiskey soaked approach to otherwise joyful pop anthems, refuses to conform to the cliche heartwarming standards of most winter jingles. When you hear him morosely hollering on the acapella intro of "Too Drunk to Dream", "sober life is a prison, shit faced it is a blessing," you know this isn't quite the holiday cd of choice for family gatherings (unless your family contains alcoholics and a nun who's aspiring to be a topless waitress). It's quintessentially Magnetic Fields, and well, that's saying something. Read more...

Saturday, January 12, 2008

The Mars Volta - The Bedlam In Goliath (2008)

2.5 ★/5.0 - 5.9

There is a lot to love about The Mars Volta: their sound, their style, their insane live shows and stage antics, their goofy afros, their drive to integrate prog, electronica and dissonance into punk, their knack for grasping Can-like grooves and bringing epic intensity to the forefront. The only thing that's frustrating about them is actually listening to them. Or at least on The Bedlam In Goliath it is. There definitely once was a time when they were the aural equivalent of ice cream for many (or, as on Amputechture, a tasty pastry). Unfortunately, Frances The Mute was around the time that half of those people decided that they tasted and looked more like broccoli. It's an interesting thing, how little kids interact with the strange-looking vegetable. A common reaction is to only eat the flower heads of broccoli and throw away the stalk. Similarly, Frances The Mute gave fans enough to bite into, but half the people who tried to get full stomach from it, just ended up with a nasty taste in their mouth.

The Bedlam In Goliath
may sound close to Amputechture, but it's disappointment is closer to Frances The Mute. It has it's share of heart-pumping peaks, but also too many dull valleys, plagued with angst-ridden, mind numbing sameness. Omar is still constantly dry humping his guitar, the band is still on a needlessly twisting, high speed chase to nowhere in particular and Cedric's lyrics are still poetic nonsense. "I've got a penis that could rip through the very fabric of time," is one of the few lines on the whole album that stands out from his usual projectile vomiting and it sadly illustrates just how striking The Mars Volta could be if they just put a little more of their power into actually engaging their listeners. De-Loused In The Comatorium took no prisoners and went straight for the throat, something that slithering tracks such as "Wax Simulacra", "Ouroborous" and "Goliath", do with ferocious results. But too often on this overlong mess, the band is overlooking their strengths in favor of a towering wall of auditory masturbation. Read more...
"How many times must a man look up
before he can see the sky?"