Dancing On The Corpse's Ashes

Artist: The Mars Volta
Album: Octahedron

Comments: The Mars Volta are the most polarizing band of my lifetime. No other group has caused so much mindless devotion and vehement hatred in my quarter century on earth. It is either loved and praised for its mind-bending amalgamation of genres and sounds, or reviled and hated for it's self indulgent tendencies passed off as progression. There is no middle ground: everyone falls into one of these two camps.

I, along with anyone else raised on bare bones punk rock, I suspect, fall into the second group of fans who wish that Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodriquez-Lopez would hurl themselves off a cliff (or wish, at least, that they had stopped with At The Drive In).

That being said, each Mars Volta album has always been able to spark some interest, generate some small good will. Despite all the dissonance, the gibberish, the swirling, meaningless clouds of noise for noises' sake, the endless bullshit of it all, each album has always had some redeeming quality. Be it fragmented pockets of actual songwriting (“Ciatraz ESP,” “Drunkship of Lanterns” off Deloused in the Comatorium), snippets of interesting guitar work (a number of songs off Frances the Mute) or the band just cutting through their progressive title and simply kicking some ass ("Goliath" off last year's The Bedlam in Goliath), TMV have always been at least marginally interesting, at least to the point that an album would warrant a handful of listens.

And then there was Octahedron, the band's latest album.

It's hard to pin down exactly what is so repulsive about this record. I mean, it sounds fine, which is to say it sounds like every other Mars Volta record: hyper active drums, ethereal guitars, bad high school poetry style lyrics delivered in a goofy falsetto, massive breakdowns of meaningless sound.

What's lacking here is any kind of interest. Octahedron sounds like a band going through the motions, making music out of obligation and not inspiration. Every note, every movement, every single element of every single song comes off as lazy and uninspired. It is as if the band said “Fuck it, this is good enough,” and released the first thing that came to mind. If the guys themselves can't even muster up some excitement, what are we listeners supposed to do?

Its as if the band can't even muster the energy to try and write new songs. Album opener “Since We've Been Wrong” sounds like a second-rate “The Widow.” “Teflon” plays like any track off Amputechture. Some bands write the same song over and over again because its all they know, but TMV have proved themselves talented enough to progress, even within their own brand of shitty “progressive rock.” This is not some pop-punk band using the only three chords they know. This band can do better, has done better. This is laziness.

Maybe I am being closed minded. I've already admitted that I don't like the band. Its possible that I am just totally missing the point, and Octahedron is a masterwork of rock so far above my head all I can do is bad mouth it. Still, every other Mars Volta album has jumped out at me at least once. This album passes by without a single interesting note, without one thing to engage a causal listener, devoid of anything worth going back to.

In a recent interview, Bixler-Zavala and Rodriquez-Lopez talk about a possible At The Drive In reunion, calling such a thing unlikely given the amount of material they still want to make as The Mars Volta. Octahedron makes that claim extremely hard to believe. This is kind of album bands put out before a break up.



Key Tracks: Since We've Been Wrong, Teflon

Buy, Steal, Skip: Skip

100 Best Rap Songs Ever: #35

Artist: Wu Tang Clan
Song: Triumph
Album: Forever
Year: 1997

Comments: 36 Chambers is, for my money, one of the top 10 rap albums of all time, and probably high on the list of "Best Debut Albums." Forever is not nearly as good, but it does feature what might be their best song in "Triumph," a hookless banger of a track that finds ever member of the Clan absolutly killing it (except for OBD, who plays hype man).

Pay special attention to Method Man (second verse), U-God spitting waaaaaaaay above his usual ability (forth verse), RZA being his usual werid self (fifth verse) and Ghostface Killah taking a shit on Masta Killa by starting his verse with "Hey yo, fuck that!" (seconf to last verse). Try and listen to this song without getting amped. You won't be able to.

And, not for nothing, but how awesome is this video?



BONUS VIDEO (To make up for the lack of ODB on "Triumph")

100 Best Rap Songs Ever: #67

Artist: Clipse
Song: Grindin'
Album: Lord Willin'
Year: 2002

Its The Return Of The...Oh, Wait...Not Really

This review appears on No Ripcord.

Artist: Eminem
Album: Relapse

Comments: Despite all the negative things I am about to say about Relapse, there are two very important points that must be kept in mind.

1) From a technical standpoint, Eminem is the best rapper alive. Better than Lil Wayne, better than Jay-Z, better than any backpacker, underground, grime or regional act anywhere else in the world. His flow, delivery, internal rhymes and complex structure will always be more important that his content, and in these areas he is without rival.

2) Relapse is, by a wide margin, the man's best album since The Eminem Show.

Those facts established, let's talk some shit, eh?

Controversy played an enormous part in Eminem's success in the late '90s. In fact, one could argue that shock was the main factor to his meteoric rise, more so than his talent, his production or his skin color. Considering his fall from the public eye thanks to diminishing releases and a four-year absence from rapping, it is not surprising that Relapse leans heavily on the scare tactics. The rapper downs bottles of pills, kills everyone in a McDonald's, jerks off to Hannah Montana and drinks his cousin's bathwater. All on the first track.

The difference here lies in what is behind the words and not the words themselves. Sure, Eminem's albums have always been twisted, violent affairs. However, the mania on previous albums was fueled by an almost palpable anger, a desperate search for some kind of peace through ultra-violence. And while tracks like "Underground" and "Beautiful" are powered by this same intensity, the vast majority of the album's tracks are little more than gross-out jokes.

Speaking of jokes, odds are good that by the time this review hits the web, "We Made You" will have been played over 10 times in a single day on most mainstream FM stations. Clearly this track is an attempt to re-create the angry frat humor aimed at pop culture that served Em so well in the past ("The Real Slim Shady", "My Name Is"). This song and the album at large miss the mark in this respect as well. I have a theory that in this modern age of hyper-fast celebrity news turnaround, such songs like this cannot work any more. It would certainly explain why jabs at Lindsey Lohan, Kim Kardashian and Sarah Palin cause more eye rolls than chuckles.

More likely, however, is that Eminem has lost the fire. His first albums were, as he was quick to point out, combative middle fingers aimed at everyone and everything that pushed against him. Now he's making albums about recovering from addiction, sounding worn out and uninspired. Dude needs to find a muse or something.

"I may be done with rap / I need a new outlet," Em raps on "Beautiful." I hope it doesn't come to that. Even at his worst, Eminem is worlds more talented than anyone else rapping today. When he's on, like on "Crack a Bottle", "Stay Wide Awake" and the other previously highlighted songs, he is a titan. Relapse is billed as a return to form, but it plays more like a departure note.



Key Tracks: Underground, Beautiful, Crack a Bottle, Stay Wide Awake

Buy, Steal, Skip: Steal

Dan Deacon Gets His Empire Strikes Back On With More Serious Second Album

This review appears on No Ripcord

Artist: Dan Deacon
Album: Bromst

Comments: Time is a son of a bitch. It robs us of our bodies, minds and good looks. It takes our friends from us. But perhaps most damagingly, it alters our view of the past. The further detached we are from events, the more blurred they become in our memory, which leads to broad strokes of emotion in place of and accurate recalling of events. Right now, I am 23 years old with no job, no health care, no car and less than 1,000 dollars in the bank. This is undeniably a shitty time in my life. And yet, I am sure that a few years from now, I will look back on this as a "golden age of my early 20s" where I "found myself" and "discovered what I really want to be."

This same principal applies in music. When Dan Deacon's first record came out in the summer of 2007, I originally claimed it was silly, fun music for silly, fun people. Since then, however, my view has shifted and distorted the album into some kind of electronica classic, a high water mark for the genre and as essential an album as The Blue Album, The Lonesome Crowded West or Doolittle. I look at that album now less as a fun record of goofy experiments and more as serious art that strives to push forward. By looking back through rose-colored glasses, I've forgotten what attracted me to that album in the first place, the fact that it was fun, easily accessible electronica for anyone with a pair of dancing shoes and a sense of humor.

Time is fucking me again. It's been two months since Bromst was released and odds are good that if you are reading this website you have already formed an opinion on it. The record has received tons of positive press, and the general take on it is that it is a big step forward for Deacon, one that establishes him as a serious, mature artist. As if there was something wrong with making music with a sense of humor in the first place.

And so, we have Bromst, an album that does indeed show signs of Deacon taking his music seriously, but at the expense of what initially made him great. His skills as an arranger and sequencer are as strong as ever. The album's opener "Build Voice" is a prime example of this, almost as if the track is nothing more than a warm up exercise for the rest of the album. The slow fade in of theme, the addition of melody, the development and exposition, the breakdown, the final crescendo: the track is a blue print, a note to other, lesser artists explaining "This is how it is done, this is the way the pros do it." The track itself isn't nearly as interesting as what it seems to say.

In an effort to grow up his sound, Deacon has introduced new noises to his normal pallet of 8-bit video game midis and Saturday morning cartoon blasts of colorful notes. Bells, horns and unaltered human voices are just some of the new, more mainstream effects that he uses to create his music. Of course, calling Deacon mainstream is like calling the Mojave desert a nice summer vacation spot. Deacon still deals in spastic bursts of fuzzed out dance music with a manic communal feel, but the fun doesn't come as easily this time around. "Red F," "Padding Ghost," "Woof Woof," and "Get Older" all strive for that Spiderman of the Rings feel. Only "Woof Woof," with its barking dog samples, achieves the same level of exuberance. "Baltihorse" and "Surprise Stefani" find Deacon taking a shot a slower, more restrained songwriting, and though these tracks do eventually grow after repeat listens, casual fans may not stick around long enough to be drawn in.

While the album lacks a powerhouse number like Spiderman's "Wham City," Bromst boasts two of Deacon's finest tracks in "Snookerd" and "Of The Mountains." The songs are placed next to each other on the album, and they embody every good thing that Deacon does. They are layered and arranged beautifully, each song working together to create a 15+ minute anthem that rises, falls, swells and sways with a weight and beauty that modern pop music so rarely achieves. Classically arranged, professionally rendered and lovingly created, these two songs are as close to symphony as any electronica artist has ever come, and stand as Deacon's finest work to date.

It is in moments like the final chorus of "Snookerd," or in the whistle-lead breakdown during "Of The Mountains" that maturity looks best on Deacon. Those moments show that when he puts his mind to it, Deacon can advance his music while retaining the sense of fun that made him such a hit in the first place. Bromst is not as immediately enjoyable as its predecessor, but that's OK. Deacon is out to be your new favorite artist, not just some flash in the pan. Time fucks with everyone, and I am sure I will look back at this album differently two years from now, but right now, Bromst is an excellent followup to a slightly more-excellent debute, and proof that Deacon is here to stay.



Key Tracks: Snookered, Of The Mountains, Woof Woof, Build Voice

Buy, Steal, Skip: Buy

Band With Stupid Name Deliver Most Sincere Rock Record of the Year FTW

Artist: Japandroids
Album: Post- Nothing

Comments: Low-fi is a ridiculous genre. To think that an entire class of music can be defined by how it is recorded is a testament to how far rock music has stretched itself. Most of these low-fi artists, artists who are allegidly creating something new in rock music, are nothing more than punk bands with extra fuzz and a Sonic Youth fetish. The recent surge in buzz-rock is all the proof anyone needs that history repeats itself. It's New York, 1976 all over again.

Perhaps I'd be more open to the idea of the "genre" if so many of its flagship bands didn't leave me disinterested and cold. While Wavves, No Age, Women and myriad other hip-today low-fi bands have lit the blogs on fire, too much of their music is too self-conscious, too fashionable, almost as if these bands are trying as hard as they can to look like they aren't trying. There is nothing less appealing than a group more concerned about a look or an aesthetic than they are about making music, and that stylistic urgency is all over recent hits like Nouns and Wavvves.

It is in this respect, an emphasis on sincerity over style, that Japandrioids set themselves apart. While their core sound is not much different from that of their peers (fuzzy guitars, low-mix drums, gang vocals), the honesty found on Post-Nothing makes it the first low-fi rock album to actually matter.

According to the band's myspace page, Japandroids originally set out to be a full band and only exist as a two-piece because of their impatience to find bandmates. It's easy to believe this claim. The duo fills their tracks with shouts, layered guitars and thundering drums, making as much racket as they can to compensate for absent band members. The thick layers of guitar on "Heart Sweats" and the crashing enthusiasm of "Wet Hair" beg to be filled out and highlight the band's low production as circumstance and not a stylistic, trend-catching choice.

Post-Nothing cackles with energy. Lyrics about drinking, girls and being young are delivered straight-faced, with an emphasis on directness over flowery prose. There is never any question about what is being said, their meanings are simple and without unnecessary confusion. At worst, lyrics come off tongue in cheek ("Let's move to France / so we can French kiss some French girls" on "Wet Hair"). On the other hand, there are moments (like the thrilling youth chorus of album highlight "Young Hearts Spark Fire") where the straightforwardness of the lyrics provide them with that much more punch.

Post-Nothing is an album that can wear a lot of hats. The sound lumps it in with the cresting wave of indie low-fi. The band's simple and unpretentious discussion of young love and young lives puts them more in line with the long-gone emo bands of the mid '90s. The underlying growl of their music has ties with Constantiens-like post hardcore. Regardless of classification, Japandroids have created something pure, something without pretense and without any concern for how smart or cool they will sound.

In the underground, where status is more important than comfort, Post-Nothing is a beacon of safety, a true rock record for everyone.




Key Tracks: Young Hearts Spark Fire, Heart Sweats, Crazy/Forever, Sovereignty

Buy, Steal, Skip: Buy

Goodnight to the Rock and Roll Era

Left of the Dial is going on hiatus for a few months on account of some spontaneous employment (I know, I'm just as surprised as you are).

In my absence, I advise you to check out the following sites for your music needs:

Picasso Blue (For your punk / indie needs.)

In The Wake of Poseidon (Like rock music? So does Paul.)

The Garbage Man and the Ambulance (Dudes, this is what the hipster gals are listening to. Ladies, this is what you should be listening to if you want to be hip.)

Also, check these ones out, too.

Nickmongo (Comics that occasionally feature jokes.)

Drunk and Stuck in Philadelphia... (A good read if you live in Philly and like alcohol.)

Well, that's it! You can still read my thoughts at Punknews.org and No Ripchord, on occasion. Thanks for reading this mess, everyone. I'll bring it back around again when I've got the time for it. In parting, I leave y'all with this:






One love,
Mr Dogg

Haiku Reviews #4

Artist: And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead
Album: The Century of Self

Epic and complex
Rocks throughout but holds no hits
Best work still in past

Buy, Steal, Skip: Steal

**********

Artist: Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Album: It's Blitz!

Synth but not dance rock
Karen O still writes good songs
Everyone relax

Buy, Steal, Skip: Buy

**********

Artist: Dan Deacon
Album: Bromst

Still does same old tricks
Mature but fun, fills out sound
Deacon is the man

Buy, Steal, Skip: Buy

**********

Artist: Wavves
Album: Wavvves

Fuzz punk songs are good
Total four good tracks, no more
Don't believe the hype

Buy, Steal, Skip: Steal

**********

Artist: The Black Lips
Album: 200 Million Thousand

60s garage punk
It's been done, but still sounds good
VU fans should like

Buy, Steal, Skip: Steal

**********

Artist: Mi Ami
Album: Watersports

I like the idea
Flashes of good guitar work
Not a fun listen

Buy, Steal, Skip: Skip

**********

Artist: Say Hi
Album: Ohhs & Ahhs

Weakest record yet
Too much indulgence, Say Hi
Get Ferocious Mopes

Buy, Steal, Skip: Skip

Get It Now!: Oxford Collapse - Young Love Delivers

Oxford Collapse came to my attention from the most unlikely of places: the MTV corporation. The charmingly homemade video for "Young Love Delivers" flashed across my screen and burned itself into my mind. As I watched the band eat cheese burgers in a Delorian (no joke, this video was fucking system), I couldn't help but fall in love with the band's reckless and friendly brand of indie-rock. I strongly urge you to pick up Bits, the band's 2008 release on Sub Pop records. In a more perfect world, this is what the underground would sound like.

Oxford Collapse - Young Love Delivers

Buy Bits Here

Get It Now!: Superdrag - Slow to Anger

While I know a shitload about 90s power-pop, my knowledge of that spunky also-ran Superdrag is minimal. What I do know is that "Slow to Anger," the opening track off Industry Giants, their fifth album and first in as many years, is a three-minute blast of strong, feelgood rock. With its simple song structure and classic-rock melodies, the track is not only a great "in-the-car-warm-weather" song, but also a template for fledgling rock bands; this is how to make a simple idea sound great. If only the entire album was this good...

Superdrag - Slow to Anger

Get Industry Giants here

Nerds and Hip Hop, Together at Last (In A Good Way, Not The MC Lars Way)

Artist: Team Teamwork
Album: Ocarina of Rhyme

Comments: While Danger Mouse didn't invent the mash-up on his copy write-violating 2004 record The Grey Album, he certainly propelled the art form into the public eye like never before. In the wake of his success, the music world has seen a slew of like-minded projects, from the good (Girl Talk's last two albums) to the not so good (LushLife's WestSounds, which brought the Beach Boys and Kanye West together with disastrous results). The relatively unknown Team Teamwork (whose Myspace page has less than 10k views at the moment) is the latest group to try their hand at mashing with their Ocarina of Rhyme mix tape.

Dorks and gamers will probably have a pretty good idea of what's going on already, but for the uninitiated, OoR is a play on The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time, one of the best selling and most popular video games of all time. Team Teamwork's record takes selections from the game's score and pairs them with some of hip-hop's best lyricists (and Slim Thug).

To recap: music from video games + rappers = Ocarina of Rhyme.

Considering how ridiculous this looks on paper, the album's success to failure rate is surprising. True, the first few bars of the opening track, a mash of Clipse's "Virginia" with the "Lost Woods Theme," is a bit hard to swallow. Even someone with no Zelda familiarity will have a tough time rectifying the pairing of lighthearted flute with Clipse's ice-cold verses about laying suckers down. However, the song is a winning one, and the juxtaposition in styles will eventually sway even the most stalwart of naysayers.

Indeed, most of the album is legitimately good, pushing itself way past novelty and into the realm of legitimate work. Team Teamwork do little to the original songs, occasionally adding heavier percussion or outside instruments, but never ruining the original spirit of the songs or their concept. There are some truly brilliant pairings to be found on OoR. The mix of the "Hyrule Field Theme" does wonders for Pimp C, making the rapper sound much more triumphant and commanding than his own tracks can, and MF Doom's "Vomit" sounds right at home over the "Lon Lon Horse Race Theme," a pairing that makes almost entirely too much sense (I mean, odds are good that Doom would have wound up doing something like this on his own, anyway). The real album highlight is Aesop Rock's "No Jumper Cables" mixed with a drummed-up version of the "Goron Village Theme;" the minimal tribal beat gives weight to Rock's intricate wordplay and affords the track a level of punch that is shockingly missing from most mainstream rap productions.

Like any mash-up collection, the album is not without its misses. Common's "I Used to Love H.E.R" sounds just a little bit too playful mixed up with the "Hyrule Market Theme," and the combination of "Still D.R.E" and the "Getting Treasure" theme is an outright car wreck. While Team Teamwork is to be admired for trying to create a track from such a small and quick fanfare, the song is stretched way too far and collapses before even getting out of the first verse. But to be fair, it's a lot harder to make Mike Jones and Slim Thug sound elegant (which is exactly what happens when they are paired with the "Fairy Fountain Theme") than it is to make Dr. Dre sound any better.

Ultimately, mash-ups like Ocarina of Rhyme (and even The Grey Album) are only as good as the novelty of collaboration will allow. Once the combos become commonplace, the album usually falls to the wayside. The best that can be hoped for is a handful of legitimate tracks and a way to get your name out there. To that end, Team Teamwork's hip-hop nerd wet dream is a success. Not bad for a day's work.

Key Tracks: No Jumper Cables + Goron Village, Still Tippin' + Fairy Fountain

Download the album here from free.

Do We Really Need Another Band That Sounds Like Guster? No? Cool.

Artist: Fiction Family
Album: Fiction Family

Comments: Fiction Family, the collaboration between Switchfoot lead singer Jon Foreman and Nickle Creek guitarist Sean Watkins, is a classic example of a band that can do one thing (and only one thing) well. The group's self-titled debut album is awash with soft-spoken, gently strummed acoustic ballads that aim to couple nicely with Foreman's earnest prose and sincere delivery. Their familiar brand of emoting can be charming on individual tracks, but stretched out over the course of an album their one trick loses steam quickly.

Fiction Family is pleasant to a fault. The album utilizes a formula that hinges on Watkin's new-folk instrumentation and Foreman's coffee house croon with the aim of delivering both lyrical and musical charm. While this formula works in small bits (“Betrayal,” “When She's Near”), the album quickly blends into cliché on both fronts, reducing the record to little more than a pile of overused chords and horse-whipped sentiments about love.

Nickel Creek die-hards will no doubt hear Watkin's touch all over the album in the form of sitars, pianos, and violins melded into his folk arrangements, and while there are some nice structures to be found, lyrics like “You spend your life inside a box looking through stained glass / And dream about a better day and hope it finds you fast” quickly obliterate any musical goodwill.

The record is such a slave to its familiar routine that any slight break from the mold (like the catchy, loopy “Out of Order”) stands as a titanic success in the face of such willful, agreeable mediocrity.

For a certain group of people, the people who watch Garden State once a month, who can't forget the first time they ever heard Guster, whose play lists are riddled with acoustic singer-songwriters wailing about emotional gambits with the opposite sex, Fiction Family's self titled debut will likely be the album of the year. For the rest of the world, however, Fiction Family is nothing more than a bland collection of pleasant soft-pop, good for high school mix tapes, background music, open mic nights, and little else.

Key Tracks: Out of Order, Betrayal

Buy, Steal, Skip: Skip

Someone Call Zack Braff! Scrambles Will Change Your Life!

Artist: Bomb The Music Industry!
Album: Scrambles

Comments: It doesn't matter how many times Fight Club comes on, nothing can prepare you for failure. Sure, heartbreak, lonesomeness and isolation are powerful, but there is no feeling quite like the exotic mix of apathy, self-loathing, bitter anger, and frustration that comes with hitting bottom. Finding oneself unable to live up to personal expectations, let alone the expectations of society at large, is a truly crippling thing. As an unemployed guy in his mid 20s living on the poverty line in a country falling apart from the inside out, I can understand the smoldering frustration and anger that threatens to boil over at any time. Forget high school, being on the brink of adulthood is fucking terrifying.

It's at times like this when punk rock is more important than ever. Regardless of how you wish to classify it, (as a movement, a genre, a lifestyle, etc), odds are good that we all got into it for the same reason: at some point it spoke not just to us, but for us. It gave us sense of belonging and kinship that was otherwise unavailable, not to mention a mouthpiece for the feelings we were too feeble to describe. Punk put the words in our mouths and spat them out as a defiant scream. It gave us strength when we felt weakest.

Well what was true at 16 is still true in your mid-20s. The world still makes no sense, and we still occasionally need someone to speak for us, to give our internal struggle a voice, something to sympathize, something that understands. No one comprehends this like Jeff Rosenstock, the ringleader of punk's finest musical circus Bomb the Music Industry!. Scrambles, the collective's latest album, is a testament to confusion and impotence on the doorstep of legitimacy and how we can find hope even in the face of such titanic self-doubt.

After four albums of kitchen-sink punk rock, Roesnstock's skills as an arranger and composer are fully honed and razor-sharp. Never content with simple sequences, Rosenstock has found a balance between his epic aspirations and conventional song structure, resulting in songs that throw everything together without ever sounding jumbled or unorganized. Where on previous albums songs were occasionally too excitable to be reigned in, Scrambles is a well-structured serving of fist-pumpin', boot-stompin' punk rock that manages to sound controlled without sounding limiting. Tracks like "25!" and "Sort of Like Being Pumped" are bursting with life and excitement, piling on layers of sound without ever getting too messy to enjoy. Even more scaled back tracks like "Saddr Weirdr" and "Wednesday Night Drinkball" spare themselves no indulgence without ever actually sounding indulgent.

In his book Nothing Feels Good, Andy Greenwald points out that Blake Schwarzenbach was idolized for his ability to write songs that were intensely personal yet able to appeal to a mass audience at the same time. Rosenstock also has this ability to speak for us all, to let his personal stories stand as parables and metaphors for our own lives. Scrambles finds him on the verge of becoming one of punk's most vital song writes, a low-fi Jarvis Cocker singing for the man-boys who are old enough to drink but still living in the gutter, unable to pull a life together.

The album features songs about party-going dance clubbers and their drugs of choice, losing friends when moving out of town and (of course) a track about the foolishness and hypocrisy that runs rampant within the punk scene. While these songs are certainly good, it is the ones about Rosenstock's life as a man-child living in the city that are the most impactful, the most essential to the album's emotional core. On "25!" Rosenstock breaks down burden of the late-bloomer with simple and elegant prose, cramming a lifetime of frustration and panic into a two and half minute piano stomp ("We got our ideals but no way to achieve them / We swallow our pride over piles of problems / We're reaching for answers like nobody's got 'em").

Of course, you don't have to be at a life crossroads to feel confused about what to do, and if the album was nothing more than a laundry-list of complaints and whining, it wouldn't be nearly as good. At the end of it all, however, Scrambles is an album about overcoming. Sometimes things fall apart. There are times when the rigors of life will beat down even the most optimistic of individuals. Scrambles is a life vest at those times. It is an album about spinning wheels, about hovering between adulthood and adolescence, and ultimately, about how even something as small as seeing the sunset from the back of a train can give you enough strength to carry yourself home.

Key Tracks: Stuff That I Like, It Shits!!!, 25!, Saddr, Weirdr, Young Mind Fresh Body, Sort of Like Being Pumped, (Shut) Up the Punx!!!

Buy, Steal, Skip: Buy it now. In fact, you can download it for free at the band's website, but you really should donate some money (which you can also do from the website).

Adult Nights Too Similar to Every Other Night

Artist: Wild Light
Album: Adult Nights

Comments: My first experience with Wild Light was not a good one.

See, I saw them open up for Tapes n Tapes a week ago, and they made me sick. While the band has been getting some pretty good press all over the place, all I saw was four guys in tight pants making stupid faces and playing what could charitably be called "synth pop" and more accurately called "generic dance-rock bullshit." I left the bar with one of their matchbooks (yeah, this band has got fucking match books, for chrissakes), fully prepared to rip their album Adult Nights to shreds.

To be fair, Adult Nights is not nearly as bad as the band's live show lead me to believe. First of all, their songs are much more synth pop and much less dance bullshit on the album, and it's always better to make synth pop than dance bullshit. In fact, some of these tracks, like the one-two album opening punch of "California on my Mind" and "New Hampshire" are pretty nice little pop songs. With strong vocals and catchy hooks that get stuck in the head the way good pop songs should, Adult Nights is a hit as long as you stop listening after the first two songs.

After those songs, however, the album quickly runs out of charm. Every song after the first two is either a retread of those first two or a reminded of other, better bands. At any given moment listening to Adult Nights, one will be reminded of Death Cab For Cutie, The Shout Out Louds, The Legends, Belle & Sebastian, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, even the Arcade Fire (of which one of the members of Wild Light is a former member). It's one thing to listen to an album and think "Hm, this reminds me of something else" and another to listen to an album and think "Hm, I wish I was listening to one of these other, better bands right now. I think I'll put that on!"

Still, Adult Nights is not at all the train wreck I hoped it would be. It's a perfectly fine album if you can't wait for the next Train album, or if you're a high school girl, or if you just really, really like average keyboard pop. Harmless and toothless, I'm sure this album will appeal to someone, but with some many better bands doing the same thing at a higher level, I'm just not sure who. The only way to really look favorably on Wild Light is as a springboard to better bands, which is a noble enough purpose, I guess.

Key Tracks: California on my Mind, New Hampshire

Buy, Steal, Skip: Skip

Get It Now #2: Constantines - On To You

(Get It Now! is a new segment at LOTD, and, as the title suggests, it is an instant recommendation of what sounds good in the moment. Act fast before the mood changes!)

The Constantines are a hard band to pin down. Their complex guitar layering avoidance of traditional song structure and gruff vocal delivery make them consistently interesting, if not always instantly successful with first time listeners. However, when these Canadian post-rockers put their mind to it, they can make one fine song. While they've never delivered a knockout album from start to finish, tracks like "On To You," "Young Lions," and "Shine A Light" off their watershed 2003 release Shine A Light proves that when Constantines get it right, it's time to sit up and listen.

Constantines - On To You
Buy Shine A Light Here

Indie Rock's Mustached Meatloaf Strikes Chords, But Not Without the Occasional Strikeout

Artist: Franz Nicolay
Album: Major General


Comments: I'll always have a soft spot for over-the-top balladeers like Meatloaf and Billy Joel. Say what you want about their theatrical tendencies and their ham-handedness, but when one makes their entire musical career about the trails and tribulations of love, mankind's most overblown emotion, there has to be a sense of presentation and grandness. It is this mentality, the idea of magnifying emotions through music, that drives Franz Nicolay's Major General, the first solo record from the mustached troubadour responsible for ivory tickling with The Hold Stead and World Inferno/Friendship Society.

The existence of this album doesn't make much sense, until one pulls back and realizes that Nicoaly, with his operatic voice and flair for the dramatic (I mean, have you SEEN this man?), is one of the few members of their band with enough character to support a solo album. And if there is one thing Major General has, it is character. In spades.

Nicolay must have been working on variations of these songs for years. The music jumps around in style so much that Major General is more a collection of ideas than an actual album. Some of the ideas are quite good, too. Take for example the album opener "Jeff Penalty," a punk smasher about Nicolay's time at a Dead Kennedys reunion show. The song builds toward a big multi-vocal breakdown that doesn't work as well as one would hope, but is still worth repeat listens. In the same vein is the excellent "Confessions of an Ineffective Casanova," in which Nicolay regales us with tales of his botched romances. Both songs might be a little bit too "Hold Steady" for some, but those people are just being dicks (on "Quiet Where I Lie," however, that argument is much more apt).

Of course, an album of just punk anthems would never stand for someone as quirky as Nicolay. The rest of Major General is all over the place, jumping from Joel-like character sketches ("Dead Sailors" and "Hey Dad!") to an honest to God smooth lounge track ("Do We Not Live in Dreams?") and every classic rock touchstone in between. All this jumping from style to style insures that the listener is never bored at the cost of robbing the album of any sort of cohesive flow or connection. And while Nicolay has a distinct voice, it does tend to waver at times, reveling why he's been a backup singer in most of his bands.

Major General is a pretty decent collection of songs from a man who obviously has more ideas than his two bands will allow him to release, but probably too many ideas to ever button down and release a steady unified work. Still, if you've got a soft spot for the dramatic blowhards who know more about the human heart and aren't afraid to sing about it, there's a lot to like in Franz Nicolay.

Key Tracks: Jeff Penalty, Do We Not Live In Dreams?, Confessions of an Inefective Casanova, I'm Done Singing

Get It Now! #1: Wintersleep

(Get It Now! is a new segment at LOTD, and as the title suggests it is an instant recommendation of what sounds good in the moment. Act fast before the mood changes!)


Artist: Wintersleep
Album: Welcome to the Night SKy

Comments: Snow Patrol, The Fray, Keane, Travis, Belle & Sebastien, and early Death Cab For Cutie. Wintersleep could be mentioned in the same breath with any of these bands, as well as any band that makes mid-sized emotional pop music. The comparison wouldn't be wrong, especially considering how pleasantly unremarkable Welcome to the Night Sky is on first listen. Those who recognize the strength of the band and go back for repeat listens, however, will find a wealth of better-than-average pop songs that hit much harder than their soft-rocking brethren. Tracks like "Weighty Ghost" and "Laser Beams" have much better composition and structure than anything Snow Patrol has done, while mammoth album closer "Miasmal Smoke & The Yellow Bellied Freaks" is a post-rock turned soft titan, a beautiful and epic closer to an album that is as yielding and adventurous as the season that named them. Philadelphia is covered in snow. There is no better time to get into Wintersleep.

Fight Seasonal Affective Disorder With The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

Artist: The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
Album: The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

Comments:Despite the massive snow storm that will surely have destroyed us all come Monday morning, there is no doubt that Spring is well on its way. Soon enough teens will be falling in love, plants will rise to greet the new found warmth of our mother sun, and the music world will see a slew of sunny, poppy releases that will aim to match the bright and frivolous joy of the season. The Pains of Being Pure At Heart self-titled release is the first of many albums in this subgroup, and it might be the best one as well.

The band has seemingly been universally compared to My Bloody Valentine, and while touchstones like R.E.M, The Cure, The Cars and Polaris (best known as the house band for Nickelodeon's hipster training program The Adventures of Pete & Pete), there is something undeniably 80s going on throughout the record. It's not hard to imagine a parallel universe where TPOBPAH would sit snugly next to other sweet, fuzzed out love songs on some John Hughes movie soundtrack.

Breaking down an album like this on a song by song basis is pointless, as almost every track sounds identical to the one before it. The only honest to God standout on the record is the drum-less opening track "Contender," a song that sets the charming tone of the record but is still strong enough to operate on its own. However, while saying an album is similar throughout is often a bad thing, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart sidesteps this criticism by working fantastically as a whole record. Clocking in at 10 songs in just over 30 minutes, the album is the perfect length: not so long that it overstays its welcome but not so short that the listener feels gypped.

These punky, new-wavey, synthy, mildly fuzzy songs might not become the new anthems for teen love, they certainly make for nice music to listen to while walking on a spring day.

Key Tracks: Contender, This Love is Fucking Right, Hey Paul (Not that it really matters, it's all gravy - Ed.)

Despite Serious Star Power, N.A.S.A Can't Quite Touch the Sun

Artist: N.A.S.A
Album: Spirit of Apollo

Comments: If fantasy sports, all-star teams, super groups, and My Life in the Bush of Ghosts have proven anything, it is that America loves the idea of collaborations. The idea of the biggest and brightest coming together to make something is always enticing, especially in the world of music.

Given this inclination for collaboration, N.A.S.A's Spirit of Apollo is a music dork's wet dream. Founded by L.A producers Squeak E. Clean and DJ Zegon, N.A.S.A (which stands for North America / South America) is a vessel for uniting people of different genres and cultures together under the universal idea that making music is cool. As if this hippy, free-love ideal wasn't enough on its own, Spirit of Apollo contains some of the biggest and best names in both hip hop and indie rock. Including artists like Kanye West, Karen O, Chuck D, David Byrne, RZA, Santagold, Ghostface Killah and Tom Waits (Tom Waits!), on paper this album is the best idea of all time, ever.

The album even lives up to this insanely high standard on occasion. Listening to Ol' Dirty rap from beyond the grave while Karen O sings the most adorable hook of 2009 on "Strange Enough" is both compelling and tragic. "Spacious Thoughts," which pairs Kool Keith and Tom Waits, is another genius track that can only come from two innovative artists combining forces for a 4 and a 1/2 minute march of awesome (Tom Waits really can't do any wrong, it seems). "The Mayor," which pairs Ghostface's drunken-master prose with the endless confidence and smooth delivery of the The Cool Kids, is far and away the strongest track on the album and a definete candidate for "Song of the Year."

Sadly, Spirit of Apollo can't live up this unreasonable expectation forever. The sad truth is that the majority of the tracks are little more than novelty. It's interesting on the first listen to see who is paired with whom (kind of like prom), but by the second and third spins, the album's flaws being to stand out. Too many tracks are samey and poorly produced, too many songs suffer from their ham-handedness, too many tracks collapse under the weight of their stars, and too many songs are forgettable. "Money" features a rare uninspired verse from Chuck D and a nonexistent contribution from Seu Jorge (he of The Life Aquatic fame), and "Gifted" featuring Kanye West, Santagold and Lyyke Li is an absolute mess from start to finish.

While Spirit of Apollo does yield some truly good tracks, most of the songs are only as good as long as one's fascination with the collaboration's last. Still, no album could ever match up to the collaborations in the heads of listeners all over the country and N.A.S.A's heart is definitely in the right place, so maybe the album deserves a break. While it's worth checking out, it'll never replace the fun of mixing and matching bands in your own head.

Key Tracks: The Mayor, Strange Enough, Spacious Thoughts

Buy, Steal, Skip: Steal

OK, So Maybe This Is a Picture of a Dude, but Still, Freaky.

Artist: Antony and the Johnsons
Album: The Crying Light

Comments: Music as art is sometimes cumbersome to listen to. Luckily, one of the years first truly awesome musical releases blends the line of artistic expression and beautifully crafted songs into a listening experience of a lifetime. Antony and the Johnsons latest album, The Crying Light, takes it's inspiration and amplifies the beauty into some incredibly sublime music. Antony Hegarty's muse is not another musical act, but a 102 year old Japanese Bhuto dancer, Kazuo Ohno (who graces the cover of the album.) Hegarty was so moved by the lyrical dance of this frail but incredibly passionate dancer , that the album exudes an air of gentle beauty that seems at any moment could break. The album is simple, but it dazzles from start to finish. The music floats above the air and Hagerty's voice takes front and center stage and shoots the music to the limits of the sky.

The album opens with "Her Eyes Are Underneath the Ground" which starts immediately with a trembling Hegarty delivering the lyrics at such a beautiful, melancholy timber that it's almost impossible to not be moved by the song's first few seconds. The arrangements are simple and not overpowering, but add another element of beauty to an already gorgeous melody. Hegarty's voice is reminiscent of Nina Simone and Tim Buckley giving it a very ethereal feel. It adds so much to the songs. "Epilepsy is Dancing" takes a physical condition that is restrictive and makes it into a beautiful art form. Strange, yet it is a beautiful image to say that a physical ailment could actually be a wondrous piece of art. The ideas of death, physical restriction and art are definitely a theme on this album.

Running just a little over a half hour, the album seems like a sweeping epic even though it's over quickly. All the praise goes to the centerpiece of Antony Hegarty's voice. The most up-tempo and musically flowering song, "Kiss My Name", is really the only time that the music stands up to the power of the vocal performance. It's a fast waltz of sorts with very snappy drums and elegant flute and string arrangements that flutter about your ear drums. Other than that, it's all Hegarty's beautiful bravado. Luckily it's not just baseless vocal show boating. The lyrical content is poetic and poignant. During the title track, Hegarty delivers one of the most romantic lines I have ever heard in: "I was born to adore you/As a baby in the blind/I was born to represent you/To carry your head into the sun/To carve your face into the back of the sun." Something about this line screams dedication and sheer love for someone and Hegarty's delivery here shows that passion and amplifies it by 100. "One Dove" also has this element of poetic beauty that gains value with its master's voice. It trembles along as Hegarty begs for "mercy" from the tracks guiding force. It's genuine.

One thing for sure is that Antony is more important then the Johnsons here, but this is not to say that the music isn't fit for the style and mood of the album. It's subtle and quiet and somber and is the perfect balance to his voice. It's like Meg White of the White Stripes. It's not that shes a bad drummer (Come on dude, she totally is - Ed.), but the bravado and flashy eccentricity of Jack White's guitar and vocals needs something simple but a good backbone. The Crying Light is a triumphant record. It's some of the most beautifully poetic music you will ever hear and it does not get tired or old. The unique voice of Antony Hegarty is filled with utter desperation and melancholy, but instead of it being overbearing or cumbersome, it's somber and gentle and inviting. Rather than alienate the listener with something so artistic, The Crying Light invites you to share with the emotions and the grandiose-yet-simple structures of the songs is what makes this record excellent. It will make you weep at times and it will fill you with a romanticism that music rarely does.

- By Paul Tsikitas




Rating: 9 out of 10

Key Tracks: Epilepsy is Dancing, One Dove, Kiss My Name, The Crying Light

Buy, Skip, Steal: Buy