Showing posts with label Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Review. Show all posts

Sally Seltmann - Heart That's Pounding

Over jaunty guitars and sprightly keys, sometime Fiest collobarator Sally Seltmann sings earnestly about being in love, being happy, becoming a better person, and...well, several thinly-veiled variations on those themes.

It's interesting and somewhat refreshing to hear someone avoid the common topics of depression and loneliness and instead focus on overwhelming positives, but - and maybe I just have a penchant for melancholy- over the length of a whole album, it gets old, and you keep hoping for some darkness to creep up to provide a change of pace.

'Heart That's Pounding' represents an interesting, but not unexpected twist Seltmann, who formerly released very textured and dreamlike, confessional music under the moniker New Buffalo.

Her debut under her own name is more straightforward, more generic-indie sounding- but she's still a talented songwriter and imbues every track with a clever hook, a catchy chorus, or an interesting little moment that keeps the album moving along. I was wholly un-surprised to discover she'd co-written '1234' after hearing this- that song could exist on 'Heart That's Pounding' as easily as it does on 'The Reminder.'

Ultimately though, this will prove to be a pretty divisive release. Just as some will find her fresh-faced lyrics and delivery empowering, others will see it as naive and annoying- and it's hard not to take issue with the sheer number of times the phrase 'hold me tightly' crops up on track after track. You could design a very effective drinking game based solely around that idea and a shuffle button.

When it comes down to it, though, it's hard to knock 'Heart That's Pounding' too much, since it becomes really obvious after a few listens that she's poured her unshakeably happy soul into the CD. It may not be something I'll personally listen too again- aside from the albums gospel-tinged closer and my personal favorite, 'Dark Blue Angel'- but for those swept up by the irrepressibly buoyant singer-songwriters charms, you probably couldn't do much better.

Daedulus - Righteous Fists of Harmony

Daedulus has been making expiremental and genre-bending electronic music for almost a decade, and 'Righteous Fists of Harmony,' his 10th release and first for Flying Lotus' Brainfeeder label, is an intriguing concept EP- a sound track to the Chinese Boxer Rebellion- that may inititially underwhelm, but proves itself upon repeated listens.

It opens with 'An Armada Approaches,' a curious and ominous track composed of two slow building, dread inducing sections. The cynic in me wonders if he wrote two openings and couldn't decide which one he liked better, as both parts serve the same purpose, but in the end they go together quite well.

From there on out, it's an interesting mash of sounds and styles, unified by the constant presence and intrusion of cinematic, nostalgic strings, and skittering drum loops.
There's the airy and pleasant, samba-esque 'Order of the Golden Dawn', the reverb-laden and unsettlingly romantic 'Stampede Me,' the enveloping, and comparitevly conventional 'The Open Hand Avows'.

What's curious is, for how disjointed many of these songs are from each other, and sometimes, from themselves, the album still manages to maintain some sort of overarching continuity.

Partly, this is due to a handful of tracks that bracket the album and the more adventurous songs. Though sonically interesting, they do little but help us transition between the varying styles and provide a sort of anchor, which brings us to 'the problem' with 'Righteous Fists of Harmony'- it's less of an album and more of a 26-minute composition.

It absolutely demands to be listened to in it's entirety. With the exception of 'Order of the Golden Dawn' and perhaps one or two others, it's hard to imagine listening to many of these songs on their own. Which isn't to say that they're bad, but without the framework and context of the album as a whole, they're just not necessarily terribly interesting.

Ultimately, 'Righteous Fists of Harmony' will probably go down as a solid and thoroughly creative addition to Daedulus' discography, but not an essential release. It's good, but it's more of an engaging novelty then an album on its own.

Alex B - Moments


'Moments', the self-released (on his own label, Elm&Oak) debut album from Pnuma Trio bassist and dj/producer Alex B, comes off more like a demo reel or a mix-tape then a full album.

It hits all the necessary notes- there's the obligatory rap collaboration, the song that samples dialogue from a sci-fi flick, the laid back, step-tinged track with females vocals- even a few repetitive beats just begging to be looped from a boom-box and free-styled over.

Now, this isn't to say that 'Moments' is bad, or conventional- there is a lot to like, from the shuffling bass and staccato vocal stabs on 'You and I Both Know' to the engagingly off-beat, introspective 'Talk it Out.'

But aside from those, and a handful of other tracks, most of the 17 songs on 'Moments' barely have time to develop. A beat is introduced, tweaked a little, and just when you expect it to evolve further, it cuts out. Few songs take off like you want them to, and far too many breeze by with hardly an impact.

Partly, this may be due to design. As the title suggests, most of 'Moments' songs are short little electro-vignettes, with the bulk clocking in around the 2:30 mark. But whether intentional or not, the end result is a CD containing a lot of interesting, but half-formed, ideas. It's no surprise that the best songs- like the aforementioned 'You and I Both Know'- are also the ones that feel like they've been given the most attention.

It's undeniable that Alex B knows how to make beats- the question for the future is whether he knows where to go with them.

Spoon - Transference (Review 2)


Transference is an interesting departure for Spoon.
Gone and buried are most of the bands poppier impulses- well, buried as deep as the usually effortlessly catchy band is capable of.
But Transference is all about songs that simmer along but never really explode, subtle production touches that warp and guide the music in unexpected directions. Vocals reverb out of nowhere, briefly overwhelm, and then cut straight out.
There's hardly a solo to be heard, with Daniels content to merely pound chord progessions into your brain with a single-minded punk ferocity unseen in his music since Spoon's earlier days.
But that's not to say this album is a throwback. 
Spoon ventures boldly into new territory on this album, building, and improving upon, the atmospheric 'The Ghost of You Lingers' from 'Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga.' It's no coincidence that that was also Daniels favourite song from the last record, as the longest and most important tracks on this CD share a similar slowly unwinding mentality.
That's not to say Transference is all quasi-minimalist pop rock.
'Written In Reverse' is a gutsy blues-comp that Daniels has probably been wanting to write all his life, and 'Nobody Gets me But You' and 'Who Makes Your Money' are Spoon at their hooky and quirky best, while the previously released single 'Got Nuffin' continues to circle my brain almost daily.
But Transference is definitely sign of a shift within the band, and, in my opinion, after a few listens comes off as probably their strongest whole album next to the seminal 'Gimme Fiction'.
It's a bit off-kilter, but they sell it with so much confidence and sincerity that you can't help but feel this is exactly the album they wanted to make.

Black Dynamite - A Fistful of AWESOME

Black Dynamite is a film nerds wet dream.
It is, quite probably, the single greatest throwback/genre spoof ever made, I'd say perhaps even beating out Tarantino's Deathproof for single minded devotion to genre conventions.
Of course, both films stray in their own ways- Black Dynamite by playing for laughs, and Deathproof by being tremendously self-indulgent- though, that never stopped me from enjoying it.
But I don't mean to even remotely suggest that you have to be a scholar of blaxploitation or 70's cinema to enjoy Black Dynamite- far from it.
The film is hilarious. Michael Jai White, who also co-wrote the script, absolutely owns the roll of 'Black Dynamite,' a jive-talkin' street-walkin' badass who becomes embroiled in a war against drug pushers, corrupt governmental officials, the 'Man', and other increasingly ridiculous foes.
Far too often these types of films are all about winking and nodding at the camera and saying 'look, we made a zombie film!' or ' hey, we're making a kung-fu movie!!' then they are about actually trying to make a film. They take away all the stereotypes, all the commonalites and mistakes that plague genre flicks...but they don't take away the parts that make them entertaining.
Black Dynamite skirts that trap nicely, for most of the film, though I won't deny there were some things that were probably a bit much.
But still, all the weirdness we love from blaxploitation and 70's action flicks is beautiful recreated- the silly plots, the constant dramatic reveal of characters histories that make no sense, the gratuitous sexuality, the wildly varying acting, the terrible editing, camera work, sound design, the scripts that have probably been recut and rewritten so many times, or so hastily, the swaths of the film make no sense and don't relate- it's all more or less here, and generally done subtly enough that it doesn't just become a gimmick, but a part of the film.
Black Dynamite is the most sincere genre throwback ever made. And it's also the most awesome mutha-fuckin' movie ever made.
Probably.

Devendra Banhart and the Grogs at the Showbox, Seattle - March 18th, 2010

When Devendra Banhart walked onstage, I didn't even recognize him.
Once known more for his bizarre dress and on stage antics, the former king of freak-folk looked downright respectable as he took the microphone- beardless, short haired, and wearing only a black shirt and jeans.
It took only one warbled note, however, to connect that wholly unique voice to the face.
He's currently touring with the Grogs, his backing band with which he's been playing for several years. It's comprised of several talented musicians- many of them leaders of their own bands, as well as Rodrgio Amarante of Little Joy, and whole menagerie of other side projects.
The set was varied and well put-together. They started with a few tracks from 'What Will Be,' Banhart's first major label album and probably his most conventional.
After a bit, the Grogs headed off and Banhart played a bunch of his older songs, including the brilliantly melancholy 'A Sight to Behold' and everyone's favourite slightly unhinged children's song, 'Little Yellow Spider.'
He talked briefly of Alex Chilton's death the previous day, saying he had too much respect for the man to attempt a Big Star cover.
The Grogs stealthily returned, quietly coming in during 'We All Know', before blasting in to a series of dancier, louder tunes, including a hard-edged version of the, on the record at least, rather pallid '16th and Valencia.'
The rest of the show was a bit of a mixed bag.
Banhart is an excellent showman, and he is eminently watchable, able to sell even the silliest of lyrics and endow his sometimes childish impulses with a sense of gravity.
The Grogs are a great backing band, and the interplay between the musicians was fascinating, as they took a lot of requests, and often seemed to be watching each other for chord changes and cues.
But when it came time for each of them, in term, to perform one of their own songs, the energy faltered a bit, with only Amarante's rendition of Little Joy's 'Shoulder to Shoulder' really winning the crowd over.
There was a lot of filler towards the end, and though the set all but concluded with the epic, sabbath-inspired 'Seahorse,' many of the songs before and after came and went with nary an impact.
That said, the show was always fun, the music was never bad, if not compelling, and there was no one in the crowd who was not hanging on every word and every lyric Banhart uttered.
I would have liked to have seen him at the peak of his weirdness, but I have nothing but good things to say about this new, straightforward version.
Unfortunately, Devendra Banhart was not dressed like this.

An Open Letter to MSTRKRFT (Review of Fist of God)

Dear MSTRKRFT,


You are awesome. We get it.


Even if you have pretty much one synth sound that you've ridden and abused to all hell- it's fine, because it sounds suitably bad-ass. 


Even if your style is so easily triangulated as to be discernible in any remix or collaboration almost instantly, it's not a problem.


You've never pretended to be anything other then an awesome dance party, and you've fulfilled that role to the tee. When you came out, saying all this shit about trying to rescue the dance floor, we might have thought that was a bit ballsy, but you delivered.


I'll admit- I worshiped at the altar of Death From Above 1979. When that band broke up, I devoured anything and everything you put out as soon as it was available. I was driving around town blasting your shit before you'd even released Paris, when you were just a few remixes and maybe the hint of a future EP.


And now you've put out 'Fist Of God'...and it's more of the same. But that's actually not that bad part- I'd be totally fine with that. Your music is awesome. It's your vocals I can't stand.


Seriously, nearly every song on this album has been ruined by some middling singer/rapper spewing out terrible shit over the music. At least with your debut, the ratio of excellent to irritating was limited to "She's Good For Business".


The other songs were awesome. The quirky vocoding, the hypersexual and campy lyrics- they didn't detract a bit from the sheer skull-fucking dance madness that is your music.


But...what's going on? What's happened to you? YOU HAVE A SONG ABOUT TWO GUYS WATCHING EACH OTHER SHIT AND PISS!


That's not cool. That's not sexy. It doesn't make me want to dance. It makes me want to clean my face.


Yes, 'Bounce' is probably one of the best party songs ever. But still...if you step back and actually listen to what Nore is saying, it amounts to some variation on "I'm Nore, You're MSTRKRFT, We party." Maybe that's good enough for you. For that song, it probably is. I'm not going to complain about that song. I haven't been able to get it out of my heads for months.


But, your collaborations with 'Jahmal of the Carp' sound like bad disco/soul, mostly because that's what that guy is wailing.


You make the excellent 'Click Click' and then let E-40 shit all over all the best parts.


You collaborate with Ghostface Killah...and then proceed to make a song where HE DOESN'T RAP. 


That is what he does. That is why he is famous. I was stoked for this song...until I actually heard it. Thats like inviting Frank Lloyd Wright over to design a birdhouse, or calling up Picasso because you made a scuff on your bedroom wall and wanted to paint over it. 


In summation- What the hell, man? You're still MSTRKRFT, and still awesome, and I'm still going to put this CD on any playlist relating to anything involving motion, but, you know, I can't help but feel like we're growing a bit apart.


People change, I know. I just wish you hadn't changed into such a drunken frat party.


Sincerely,
Me.


PS. Having looked over the lyrics for 1000 Cigarettes, I realize that it's not about two guys watching each other 'shit and piss', but about him watching hot chicks go to the bathroom in his house while he spies on them and does the same.


I was wrong, but I'm still speechless.

Spoon - Transference (Review)

My first thought, upon listening to Transference a few weeks before it released, courtesy of NPR, was this it was a whole CD built upon 'The Ghost of You Lingers.'
That's actually how I described it to a few people, and though my opinion of the album has changed quite a bit since then, I think it remains pretty valid.
Like that track, this album simmers and rolls along but never really explodes. It's full of weird, subtle production touches and songs that just seem to hover,  linger, and vanish, without taking off like you expect them to.
Initially, I wasn't too taken with it. I love Spoon- and have for years- and while there wasn't anything I could point to specifically, I was just pretty meh about the whole thing. There wasn't any song that was particularly standing out to me, and I found some of the lyrics a bit silly, especially the opening to 'Written in Reverse' a bit silly: "I'm writing this to you in reverse / Someone better call a hearse."
But...I kept wanting to hear the CD again, and seeking it out on the net when I could. 'Got Nuffin' and 'Who Makes Your Money' proved to be quite the unsuspecting earworms, and the albums closer 'Nobody Gets Me But You' has firmly grounded itself in my brain.
With a few weeks to listen to it, I can say that's it's grown on me massively. It's a stronger CD as a whole then 'Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga,' though nearly it's polar opposite. That was a like a string of unrelated but solid, poppy songs- and this is probably their most cohesive CD ever.
You get the sense, though, from listening to this CD, that this is exactly the album they wanted to make. Everything about it feels sincere, feels like it came together just as they wanted. Like Hot Chips also just released 'One Life Stand,' 'Transference' is a bit of a gamble- that succeeds both because of the talent of the band involved, and how wholly they invest themselves in the new direction they're taking.

What is the What? - Dave Eggers and Valentino Achak Deng

Wow, talk about a consuming book.
A friend more or less forced it on me while I was really busy- I cracked it open one night when I had a few moments of spare time, thinking I'd just see what it was about- and then spent every fleeting free moment I had over the next few days devouring it.
'What is the What' is the story of Valentino Achak Deng, one of the several thousand Lost Boys of Sudan displaced in the civil war that gripped the country from the 80's to the mid 00's.
It follows his early childhood, as the first shadows of conflict begin to emerge, to the inevitable attacks on his village, his long, harrowing 'escape' to Kenya, his life in the purgatory of refugee camps and lawless and dangerous world outside, and then his entry into the United States and his experiences there.
From a technical standpoint, this book is a staggering achievement. Writing from Deng's perspective over a few days in America, as he thinks about his life after being attacked and robbed in his own home, brushed off by the police, and generally treated like the failure and non-person he feels he has become, Eggers has found a way to capture what one would imagine both talking too, and being, Deng, is like.
Though not technically a true biography, I also found the process of how this book was written quite fascinating. Starting and working with Deng's intense, and just unrelentingly tragic and violent life, Eggers blended holes in his life with the stories and expierences of other survivors and worked in important events that provide context and further understanding of what was going on.
They're upfront in all this- the introduction tells you that some characters are composites, that some conversations have been imagined when they couldn't be remembered, and so on- but the result is a book that is more 'real' then real, a story that becomes less about an individual man and his specific life, and more about a country, and a people, going through something terrible.
There is no shortage of violence and horror in this book, as it should be. I'd say much of what happens is unfathomable in it's cruelty and inhumanity, except these are the same kind of accounts that come out of every genocide and war in which civilians are targeted or considered expendable casualties, and however outraged people are, nothing ever seems to really get done.
Books as well done as this go a long way towards humanizing and keeping these sort of tragedies relevant and fresh, and might inspire more people to be more active in the future, when these sorts of things occur again...though I know that's a rather idealistic outlook. But I can hope.
All in all, this is a great book, easily recommendable. It's harrowing, it's quite sad, and a lot of the little triumphs become, in the end, bittersweet. There are moments where, I was reading, and simply came across something particularly effecting and turned my head to the side and kind of smiled in the same way you do when you receive terrible news, and simply couldn't look at the book.
But it's the sort of book you won't be able to put down, and won't be able to forget.
I'd recommend reading the book before you delve into all the interviews, and stuff about Valentino Achak Deng, but his charity, which provides educational opportunities in Sudan, can be found here.
After you've read it, you should really read Dave Egger's essay on the writing of the novel. It's pretty fascinating about how the book evolved over time and the processes that went into writing it.