Mono - Hymn To The Immortal Wind (2009)

4.5 ★/9.0 - 9.9

It's easy to understand how Mono has never quite achieved the same level of respect as their post-rock forefathers. There's already been far too many post-rock bands in pretty much every corner of the world, pounding into our heads their philosophy of quiet-loud-quiet dynamics, pushing the limits of epic instrumentals, and for the longest time, yet another Mogwai copycat didn't seem necessary. Even up to last year's (mostly) acclaimed You Are There, it was easy to say that Mono were essentially doing for Post-Rock what Bush was doing for Grunge - introducing the world to a third tier of third-rate artists, in the interest of record companies trying to capitalize on popular musical trends.

But Hymn To The Immortal Wind is a different beast altogether. Perhaps it's the new instrumentation. You Are There didn't even try to step out of Explosions in The Sky's established formula and consequently suffered for it. When they did use instrumentation other than guitars on that album, it felt like they could have just as easily been using more guitars. But enlisting a full-fledged orchestra for their follow-up was the best move they could have possibly done. Songs are clearly written with the new instruments and their capabilities in mind, making the band's usual sound feel much more natural and vital, rather than contrived and redundant. For example, the stunning opener, "Ashes in The Snow" is based on gentle twinkling of glockenspiels, lending actual weight to the layers of guitar riffs, and the swells of strings that accompany the sweeping chords turn what could've easily been another boring exercise into something genuinely affecting. The second half of the same song, meanwhile, sounds like a beautiful collaboration between Ennio Morricone and Hans Zimmer.

So, obviously, before tagging Hymn... as "another post rock" album, expect to encounter traces of hesitation, because the music within shares far more in common with modern classical music. Admittedly, bands like Sigur Ros and Godspeed You Black Emperor may have already laid claim to such intentions, and that's probably why one would think that Hymn..., no matter how good it might be, couldn't possibly reach the same heights as those aforementioned bands. But neither them nor their followers have created anything quite as cinematic as Mono has here. The mind-splitting opener, and the similarly breathtaking closer, "Everlasting Light" (which is every bit as beautiful as it sounds), are worth the price of admission alone, but there are 5 tracks sandwiched in between them, and almost all of them are just as good. Hymn To The Immortal Wind is a startlingly consistent labor of love, crafted track-for-track with a single goal in mind; to show that, even when Post-Rock dies, genuinely moving instrumental music will always be around, fulfilling man's primal need for meaning and capturing the deepest, most romantic emotions through sound-paintings that continually ebb, flow and soar into the stratosphere. Read more...

The Hold Steady - Stay Positive (2008)

4.5 ★/9.0 - 9.9

I highly doubt there will ever be a band I enjoy listening to more than The Hold Steady. Yes, there are many more talented and versatile bands out there. After all, at the end of the day, The Hold Steady still prefer to describe themselves simply as "Bar Rock", and none of their albums have broken any grounds or anything. But never question their ambition, which has proven itself to be far wider than your everyday bar band. Just listen to the chorus gang shouts and "larger-than-life" bridge of "Constructive Summer". Better yet, just read the lines that Craig Finn is sneering: "We’re gonna build something, this summer! We’ll put it back together - raise up a giant ladder with love, and trust, and friends, and hammers!" There should be no surprise that they're now on Vagrant, sharing their space with artists like Alkaline Trio and Dashboard Confessional. When you figure out the reason why Craig Finn references drinking so much in his songs, his intentions suddenly appear pretty close to Chris Carrabba's. He just wants to get everyone singing along. And with soaring anthems as huge and catchy as "Yeah Sapphire" and "Magazines", his success is practically guaranteed.

Still, when 2009 is coming to its end, Boys And Girls In America is probably going to be looked back on as one of the greatest, straight-up "Rock" albums of the decade, so regardless of how shamelessly enjoyable Stay Positive is, how exactly does it fit into the band's rapidly growing legacy? Both in terms of quality and sound, the answer is somewhere between Separation Sunday and Boys and Girls, although leaning more towards the latter. Plenty of moments touch upon the ragtag, sinister-sounding narratives of the former (see the apocalyptic acoustic passages of "Both Crosses", or the chugging, minor-keyed "Joke About Jamaica"), but overall, thanks to tracks like "Sequestered In Memphis" and the brilliantly anthemic closer, "Slapped Actress", most listeners will probably associate it more with the throwback arena rockers of Boys and Girls. Another reason Stay Positive seems unable to be detached from its predecessor is that the album structure is identical. The driving "Navy Sheets" is comfortably placed as track four, where the same-minded "Same Kooks" sat on Boys And Girls. And instead of "First Night" calming things down after a lightning-charged burst of energy, the equally affecting "Lord I'm Discouraged" functions as the obligatory ballad.

However, rather than come off as redundant, Stay Positive benefits from the blueprint laid out for it. 40 minutes and 11 tracks is an extremely effective format for an album, and while The Hold Steady probably ran the risk of criticism by cutting it so close to their recent-past triumph, the immediacy and craft of almost every single song is undeniable, regardless of what form it's in. Stay Positive is The Hold Steady's least conceptual and adventurous album yet, but it's also their most unabashedly enjoyable one, and besides Boys And Girls, their most consistent one, securing their reputation as the greatest Rock band alive. Read more...

Aesop Rock - Bazooka Tooth (2003)

4.0 ★/8.0 - 8.9

"Hey Aes, how's it going?"

"EVOLUTIONARYREVOLUTIONARYSPINNINGCRABCAKESINTOWILLIAMTELL'S WHIPPERSNAPPERPIGSNATCHERSLOWBREATHINGFASTFEEDINGFRENZY INTERBREEDINGTHEDAVINCIPINNOCHIOSCISSORHANDSLIKEALONELYBRO RIMSHOTHOBOCLOCKBIFOCALDIVERSIONSINHORATIO'SINTRAVERSIONS BELLIGERENTHODGEPODGENARCISSISTDEVELOPMENTINTOMISHMASH HOGWASHINTRICATEINTERGALACTICSUPERCALIFRAGILISTICTYCOONSWOON MOONCHARACTERLESSMIRRORLESSPREPOSTEROUSMONSTEROUS TYRANOSAURUSEXPIALIDOCIOUS"

"err..."

Remember when Aesop would at least say hi before pummeling you with poetry? The Def Jux-signature style confrontation has usually worked because the artists would lull you into their nightmarish constructs first, and what's more, they would always know when to relent. But Bazooka Tooth doesn't even take the slightest moment to do that, throwing you head-first into pandemonium and never stopping. Triumphing as one of the densest albums ever recorded (possibly second only to Fantastic Damage), it finds the much respected, nasal-voiced underground poet taking his already excessively-complex lyrical style into previously unheard-of levels of incomprehensibility, while shifting his flow and personality as well. Once a weary, world traveler, delivering words of wisdom in a relaxed, detached manner, Aes now sounds positively pissed, aggressively sputtering coked out, yet highly literate, battle raps. Furthermore, unlike Labor Days, where beats were mostly made by somber classicist, Blockhead, Bazooka Tooth features Aes himself primarily handling production duties and crafting beats that are far more tuneless, glitchy and in your face. Just as it sounds, the net result of all these shifts in style is an album that comes off as highly influenced by the rest of the Def Jux label, particularly in emulation of its star pupil, El-P. The influential producer even uses the centerpiece space for his own feud with Esoteric, featuring the scathing diss-rap and album highlight, "We're Famous".

But through its quest to pay homage to the "def jux sound", Bazooka Tooth overlooks having something original to say for itself. What's more is that it reveals a problem as common in underground rap as the lack of talent is in mainstream hip hop; failure to realize that making something inaccessible and obscure doesn't necessarily translate into good music. Tracks like "The Greatest Pac-Man Victory in History" and "Mars Attacks" prove this with pounding webs of jarring percussion and half-assed concepts that both fail to engage. Similarly, most of Bazooka Tooth is exhausting and the amount of effort required to appreciate it fully isn't always worth it.

Sure though, the reasons to hear Bazooka Tooth far outweigh its flaws. Mainly, the material speaks for itself; the hilarious horn-laden "Cook It Up", the militaristic drums of "No Jumper Cables", the fat atmosphere of "Super Fluke", the slinky electronics of "Easy", the drooping horror of "Babies With Guns", the jerking subtleties of "Kill The Messenger" and the list goes on and on. On a simple track-for-track basis, the album is as consistent as one should expect from Aesop Rock and his wordplay is still miles ahead of every other rapper alive. Chances are you won't return to Bazooka Tooth as much as you will Labor Days or Float, and depending on how you listen to music, that might be saying something. But for those fascinated by the impenetrable and with plenty of headphone time to spare, it won’t make a difference. This is quality underground rap and there’s no denying it. Read more...

Beck - Stereopathic Soul Manure (1994)

1.5 ★/3.0 - 3.9

In 1999, Sonic Enemy Records remastered Beck's cassette debut on CD without his permission. When Beck found out, he was furious, and the company halted production. Of course, within the first ten seconds of the opening track, it becomes apparent why. Golden Feelings sounds like it was recorded by a belligerent drunk. But could you blame Sonic Enemy for releasing such an inane recording into a discography that includes something as grating and befuddling as Stereopathic Soul Manure?

Beck is right, however, in that Stereopathic Soul Manure has something that most poorly performed, lo-fi rubbish doesn't (his own included). All the grating, completely pointless noise and talentless acoustic mish-mashing of Golden Feelings is here, but it's been enhanced by an undeniable sense of humor and charm. I challenge you to listen to that nervous runt deliver his ridiculous bullshit stories ("8.6.62", "11.6.45", "8.4.82") without laughing out loud or the witty hoe-down, "Satan Gave Me A Taco" without smiling extensively. Some might say the fact that there's actually some genuine attempts at songs here is what makes it worth hearing, but I'd counter that simple songs like "Rowboat", "Modesto" and "The Spirit That Moves Me" are just as forgettable in their cleanly-recorded, country stylings as "One Foot In The Grave" is in its pedestrian blues or "Tasergun" in its listless sludge. No, the real reason to listen to Stereopathic Soul Manure at all, is to hear a man's story of finding an unopened bottle of beer by a dead wild cat, or to hear Beck's priceless Ozzy Osbourne imitation. But seeing as how it is the music we're dealing with here... Read more...

Caribou - Andorra (2007)

4.0 ★/8.0 - 8.9

Like most musical artists, Daniel Snaith aims to use sound to express emotions. But coming from a genre that's known for it's disregard of humanity (IDM) and possessing a songwriting style that's appropriate for such a background, this has to be quite the challenge. The disconnect between the title of his last album and the sounds within only further proves that. If Daniel had any sincerity with titling his debut as Caribou, The Milk of Human Kindness, it was completely lost on the album's contents; sterile, Krautrock-rooted jamming and genre-hopping nods to record geeks.

The sound of his follow-up however, suggests that maybe the two album names just got mixed up on Daniel's cutting room floor. There's far more "human milk," so to speak, on the first two tracks of Andorra than on the entirety of its prequel. Admittedly, tracks like "Sundialing" and "Niobe" are still tightly constructed with precise, unforgiving rhythms and intensely satisfying build-ups, and electronics still form the basis for most of these songs (See the brilliantly sampled and looped "doo doo doos" of "She's The One"). But whereas the debut came off as mechanical and unforgiving, Andorra's sun soaked glory manages to express something much more than the sum of it's precise polyrhythms and calculated constructs.

Or perhaps it's much less, because if you trek through it's computer driven dense noodling looking for the source of it's humanity, you'll overlook that Andorra is just a plain fun record, filled with Zombies-style sunshine pop, soaring choruses and outlooks as simple as "love is nice". Maybe that's why it works. It sounds as if Daniel came to terms with what he could and couldn't express with his style, and made a rational compromise; to perfectly match his superficial backdrops with equally superficial emotions, crafting an album that's bursting with signs of organic growth and moments of beautiful grace. Read more...

Nine Inch Nails - Pretty Hate Machine (1989)

4.5 ★/9.0 - 9.9

Since day one, Trent Reznor has always been a better producer and songwriter than a front-man and performer. His background in theater clumsily translated into a career plagued by an unhealthy fixation on melodrama. Even Reznor's biggest supporters have probably always had a hard time defending the most frequent criticism of Nine Inch Nails, and especially Pretty Hate Machine: the abysmal lyrics. Usually, skeptics of the landmark industrial-crossover album will avoid dealing with any of the music (mainly because it's near-perfect), and instead whip out a list of the lyrical-sheet's biggest offenders, which falls to the floor and consists of at least one line on every single track; "how can you treat me like this, after you taught me how to kiss", "slipping on the tears you've made me cry", "grey would be the color, if I had a heart", "I still dream of lips I never should have never kissed" (Reznor seems to have a 3'rd graders obsession with kissing), and a host of other "cat-in-the-hat-delivered-by-an-angsty-leather-clad-teenage-goth-isms" are inherent in Reznor's delivery, making all his brooding and shouting feel a little cartoonish. As a matter of fact, on "Something I Can Never Have", where his voice is front-and-center, driving the entire minimalist ballad, it almost becomes too much to handle, and when you realize that Reznor would go on to craft much more subtle and affecting ballads thereafter ("Hurt", "Another Version of The Truth", "Lights in The Sky"), this song becomes an enormous, overlong pitfall disrupting the otherwise flawless sequencing of everything else. Of course, to like Nine Inch Nails at all, you have to embrace the infantile nature of Reznor's poetry, but even after doing so, Pretty Hate Machine can never quite rise above a near-masterpiece because of that steaming pile of failure in the center.

But Pretty Hate Machine is still a 'near-masterpiece'. The usage of keyboards, electronics and digital noise exhibited in almost every moment of the album are what make it one of the high points of 80's production, and while that means that listening to the album today makes it feel a little dated, like most of keyboard-heavy music from the decade, it doesn't change the fact that, for its time, this fusion of industrial, pop and dance was unique and breathtaking. The first 3 lead-off tracks and singles all exhibit brilliant hooks on the surface, urban polyrhythms under the exterior, and generally brilliant composition, while the electro-punk of "Sin", dramatic changes of "That's What I Get" and punchy slap-bass driving the infectious grooves of "Sanctified" and "The Only Time" push the album into classic status.

Over time, Reznor's studio wizardry would proceed to evolve and get even better in some ways, while his over-the-top delivery would stick around and fester. But no matter what changes he would proceed through (or avoid), whether for good (Year Zero) or bad (The Fragile), the Nine Inch Nails moniker would never achieve quite the same muscularity and consistency it captured here. Read more...

The Decemberists - The Hazards of Love (2009)

4.5 ★/9.0 - 9.9

Now this is the way that artists should do things; an organic evolution with a constant slope and none of that inconsistent ducking and playing around with genres and style variations that almost every band seems to go through at some point in their career. The Decemberists are too professional for that. They had been hinting at something like Hazards of Love for almost a decade, with each new chapter in their discography taking things slightly deeper, at a pace of change that has been so gradual and delicate that it hardly feels like there's been a change at all. The move from their early-period Neutral Milk Hotel-isms to the multi-suite songs of their mid-period career never once felt self-conscious, and their next leap into straight-ahead prog on The Tain and The Crane Wife was equally level-headed. Every step felt like a goal, and the following step forward would only serve to reveal the last stage as transitional. But now we finally arrive at an end-point - A full length, full fledged Rock Opera. Of course, there still might be something beyond this. Perhaps this is just yet another a step to something even bigger (if such a beast of an album is even possible). But for now that hardly matters, because the resulting LP is a joy to listen to. The band was once just sitting in the shadow of Jeff Magnum's fully realized folk project, but now they've stepped out of it and offered a sprawling near-masterpiece of their own, that even stands toe to toe with In The Aeroplane Over The Sea at a handful of moments.

Those moments include the beautiful title track, the jagged and chilling lead single, "The Rake Song", which describes, in horrifying detail, mass infanticide, and the beautifully grandioise finger picking of "Margaret in Captivity". More brilliance crops up in "Won't Want For Love", "Repaid" and "The Queen's Rebuke/The Crossing", which all take sensational cues from Black Sabbath, lurching and overflowing with ravaged distortion that perfectly matches the anger of Meloy's various characters at key moments, and both versions of "The Wanting Comes In Waves," housing one of the album's greatest hooks (second only to the spine-tingling chorus of the passionate and fiery "Annan Water").

But before the end of this review, apologies must be made for the NMH references, because it's a tad misleading. There's nothing "indie" about The Hazards of Love. This is pure Prog, without any compromises, and when it does give in, as on the conventional structure and corny ending of the last track, the album falters. The best thing about Colin Meloy's songwriting is how its simplicity and immediacy allows all the complimentary jamming, charming instrumentation and storytelling prowess to come naturally, and the first 16 tracks deliver that in spades, creating a fun catalog of Now That's What I Call 70's Prog that deserves to be replayed and memorized note by note, line by line, like all the best Rock Operas. Read more...

Sunset Rubdown - Random Spirit Lover (2007)

3.5 ★/7.0 - 7.9

When it comes to Wolf Parade, Spencer Krug has made the band for me and not just because of the absolutely perfect song that is "I'll Believe in Anything". His style of songwriting is just more dense. Boeckner is the brute of the band and Spencer Krug is the poet. This is even clearer when you compare Boeckner's band, The Handsome Furs to Krug's band, Sunset Rubdown. Whereas the former band's album from this same year is the sound of simple pleasures (hooks and synths, oh boy!), Krug takes the high-art route.

Lyrically, he's clearly a storyteller of the highest order, in full control of his densely packed imagination, singing of fantastic worlds inhabited by aristocrats, royalty, magicians and tricksters. Disturbingly cryptic imagery surround each songs' brief stretches of beautifully yearning sincerity, forming a dense labyrinth of lines that will have you reading deeply into the lyrics sheet in ways that few, besides Jeff Magnum perhaps, inspire one to do. But furthermore, unlike the sometimes underwhelming Shut Up I Am Dreaming, the compositions here soundtrack the unpredictability of his freakshow-theater lines perfectly. These songs are ragged yet enormous, spiraling, inspiring, and stunning in their ability to balance intimacy with power. A full minute of trash can percussion, spinning layers of a capella vocals and some of Krugs' most vulgar phrasings unexpectedly erupts into a melody that never leaves your head on "The Courtesans Have Sung". "Stallion" casually creaks and cackles disturbingly under it's woozy piano and dissonant guitar riffs, while "Trumpet, Trumpet, Toot!" basically ascends for 5 minutes straight. But "Magic Vs. Midas" is where the breaths really get taken away. Coming after the sensational rocket-car guitars and feverishly anthemic passages of "The Mending of The Gown", the song is perfect; a comfortably settled series of delicate metaphors, acoustic pickings and charmingly ramshackle crescendos, all held together by some of the greatest poetry of the decade. It's genuinely tragic that the song writing gets just a tad too obtuse in parts of the album's second half. Had Krug treated some of the later slow tracks and transitions ("Setting Vs. Rising", "Child-Heart Losers", sections of "Colt Stands Up, Grows Horns") with the same memorable craft as his centerpieces, this could have been something really special, perhaps even surpassing Wolf Parade's last big release. As it stands though, Random Spirit Lover still contains some of the most magical moments you can find in indie rock today. Read more...

The Yeah Yeah Yeahs - It's Blitz! (2009)

3.0 ★/6.0 - 6.9

It's almost too obvious that The Yeah Yeah Yeahs should never have gotten as big as they did after Fever To Tell. The problem is that Karen O and company have always sounded best when you could hear their filthy NYC garage background (see the early EPs). Nick Zinner's monstrous razor-blade guitar, Brian Chase's precise yet minimalist drumset and Karen O's desperate shrieks captured a sound that was positively vital at the time. On their debut LP, emotive tracks like "Maps" and "Y Control" worked because they were the exceptions and therefore managed to deepen the bands signature cacophony. But instead of using that as a stepping stone, they foolishly made it a blueprint and stumbled into a field that was dominated by countless bands already. Show Your Bones was Alternative Radio 101; as inoffensive and utterly lifeless as it could possibly be without actually being bad.

So that's why it might be hard to shake off the feeling of disappointment from It's Blitz. Even if their song-craft has improved from their last effort, the bottom line is that they're still stumbling in the wrong field for them and it couldn't be more obvious since they're now messing with Electro Pop and New Wave. Ultimately, the best thing to take away from It's Blitz is that, with a mastermind as consistently brilliant as David Sitek behind the board, they could easily get back on track at any time. His noisy, mind-blowing studio magic tricks are what make The Yeah Yeah Yeahs unambitious vision on It's Blitz worth hearing. The dangerously radiating laser beam synths on "Zero", the noisy wall of majestically towering sound on "Skeletons", the backwards yawning on "Soft Shock", the staccato horns coming in at the end of "Hysteric" and the twin fluttering guitars on dance-punk beast, "Dragon Queen", all seem to benefit from the cues they take from last years' major album of the year, Dear Science. But therein lies the problem. Ultimately, this is just a watered down version of Dear Science. Whenever Sitek steps back to let the front-people do their thing, The Yeah Yeahs Yeahs hardly distinguish themselves. Sure, they've got an ear for a hook or two, and Karen O still sounds great, but a braver band wouldn't waste their time dramatizing new age stinkers like "Heads Will Roll" or "Little Shadow", grandstanding on the overlong "Runaway" or dulling up the already-dull "Dull Life" with a series of power chords The Offspring wouldn't mind using. The band deserves credit for trying something new, as well as crafting an album that feels fully formed, but once you strip away the gloss and sheen from the highlights, this is a hollow indie-lite affair. Read more...

Red Light Company - Fine Fascination (2009)

4.0 ★/8.0 - 8.9

There's no denying it; Youth is wasted on the young. Of course, many would beg to differ with various, perhaps legitimate, arguments. Acne, raging hormones, drama, high school, living with the parents, locker room antics and regularly following regrettable fads in order to "fit in", are all things that we, as adults, are probably glad to have gotten out of the way early. But then there's that intangible spark of idealistic longing that, over time, through the pain of responsibility, hardens into cynicism. The absence of that is a little more tragic, and Fine Fascination fulfills the very basic need to relive those past glories and optimistic times. The album is utterly charming for the way it perfectly captures the nature of youth, complete with sneering boyish vocals, hopeful crescendos, and a musical slant towards immediate pleasures; soul-affirming, arena-rock gestures and pop hooks. Seeing as how Los Campesinos! and, to a certain extent, Frightened Rabbit, beat them to the punch last year, the album will probably be extensively criticized for lack of originality. Quoted from the lines of one of the exuberant centerpieces, "The Architect", Red Light Company can mimic and deliver, but they don't really know how. Still, they only fail in the endearing way that most teens usually do; earnestly reaching for the stars, without the slightest clue about how far away they actually are. Fine Fascination still triumphs as a consistently satisfying 40 minutes of wistfulness, from the jagged bar rock of "Words Of Spectacular" to the rumbling bass, space and explosive climax of "When Everyone is Everybody Else". Whip out your lighters, warm up your air guitar skills and prepare for some quality nostalgia. Read more...