Live: TV on the Radio 9/26/06

I arrived in Pomona an hour and a half early. Fuck. Los Angeles traffic can be unpredictable. Of course, part of it’s my fault—I chose to leave Santa Monica at four to be at the show at seven-thirty. But I mean, come on, it’s TV on the Radio. I couldn’t risk being there any less than an hour before the opening band came on.

I burned some time by grabbing a sandwich at Quizno’s (mmmm…toasty!) and decided to take a walking tour of the neighborhood surrounding the Glass House. I saw little of interest, which was not surprising, given my preconceived notions of Pomona. I did notice the Glass House Record Store, however, and so I decided to check it out.

Inside, I was delighted to find Kyp Malone, the backup singer and guitarist of TV on the Radio. He was chatting with a couple acquaintances and browsing through the records and so I began the fifteen-minute affair of working up the courage to talk to someone I practically worship. (For Tunde, it probably would have taken me around thirty minutes, and he probably would have left by the time I got up there nerve.)

It was an awkward encounter. I asked if he would sign my ticket, and he mumbled something along the lines of “yes”. As it turns out his signature was the word “Canejo” (I don’t know what it means) in bubble letters. I asked a couple ridiculous questions (why I get so star struck, I’ll never know) to which he muttered undecipherable answers before he told me, in a thick German accent, that I should go in the Glass House early to see the Ohsees. I assured him I would and thanked him for the autograph.

I got to thinking, and realized Kyp probably didn’t have a German accent. I was pretty sure he was American, and I recalled overhearing his voice in conversation with the other folks. It had sounded pretty normal to me. Later this was confirmed when he spoke during their set. He was just fucking with me, mumbling and speaking in a German accent just to dick around. I’m not sure what to think about that. It was funny, I guess—but mostly it was just kind of awkward.

Doors opened at seven-thirty. After a lot of waiting, the Ohsees came on at nine. They played a short but great set to an entirely unresponsive crowd. I am entirely unsure of how to describe their music, but I know I can confidently recommend it to you. Their set ended at nine-thirty five. TV on the Radio’s soundcheck began and ended fifteen minutes later. More waiting ensued. At ten-seventeen, the lights dim and our minds are blown.

Portrait of an artist:

Gerard Smith, one of the band’s most recent additions, hiding in the corner of the stage behind several levels of synthesizers and keyboards. He spends most of the time facing the drum kit, his back to the crowd, clearly trying to stay out of the spotlight and, most of the time, succeeding. Every now and then he’ll glance nervously at the crowd and quickly turn back around to focus on his bass playing.

Jaleel Bunton, his short dreads alive with whatever beat he happens to be channeling. Lanky and energetic, one would never guess he didn’t know how to play drums prior to joining TV on the Radio a year and a half ago. He remains inconspicuous, but solid and appreciated.

Dave Sitek, slightly unshaven with a small belly protruding from his tight t-shirt. A set of chimes (which, most of the time, are pretty arbitrary) hang from the end of his Fender Telecaster, which he, on occasion, beats with a tambourine. A massive pedalboard sits in front of his feet. Around his neck is a necklace with a large hummingbird pendant on the end, a perfect symbol due to how much his lighting-fast picking resembles those of a hummingbird’s wings. He assumes a position of endurance to help him play as fast as he needs, and spits profusely as his sings the words aloud to himself.

Kyp Malone, raining falsetto down upon the audience from behind his monumental beard. At least one of his strings is always broken. He remains calm and collected for most of the evening, though every now and then the music seems to consume him and send him into either a stiff-legged hopping frenzy or a quick shuffle of the feet. He solicits the crowd on several occasions for applause of the Ohsees. He speaks entirely free of a German accent.

Tunde Adebimpe, clearly the center of attention on stage, sweating from every pore on his body. One hand manhandles the microphone, the other waves wildly with the music’s momentum in a “stand up and testify” sort of way. He can’t decide whether to keep his glasses on his face or not. At the beginning and end of almost every song, he fiddles with his effected microphone. The more soul he puts into a note, the farther he bends backward, often to a point where it seemed he would inevitably fall over. He jumps all over the stage. He is larger than life. His energy is insatiable. He is the shepherd and we are his flock. He is the god of the carnival, hammering down on the button of the strong man attraction and sending the indicator speeding into the meter’s bulbous peak before breaking it all together and disappearing into the clouds while we, the children, watch in awe.

They began with “Wash the Day Away” and from then on received nothing but worship from the eager crowd. The sound was excellent, with the correctly mixed vocals and atmospheric guitars making all the difference. Songs from all over the TVOTR catalogue were played, including two from “Young Liars” EP. The band spiced up a couple of their songs—namely, “The Wrong Way” and “Satellite”—with a quicker tempo that had the whole audience jumping up and down in a frenzy. “Wolf Like Me” was, of course, a huge hit. The live versions of “I Was A Lover” and “Poppy” (which Kyp described as a “extremely idealistic love song”) both far exceeded the still-excellent quality of the originals, mostly due to Tunde and Kyp’s unrestrained vocals. “Young Liars” was also a rousing success, made curious by Tunde’s statement that the song was about someone who died and someone who was never born.

At one point, Tunde asked the audience to put their electronics away and proceeded to yell “Wet Zone!” while throwing the contents of his water bottle everywhere. When someone yelled for David Bowie to come out during the encore, he replied that Bowie was hiding in the shell of the bass drum, “armadillo style.” Otherwise, he generally didn’t seem to know what to do with such adoration, mumbling into the microphone through a huge, appreciative grin.

They never once slipped up, delivering song after song with an absurd amount of raw energy and artistic experience, aside from a little occasional chime abuse. When they closed the night with a dense, powerful version of “Staring at the Sun”, everyone present knew they had witnessed something special. Things so good should not exist on the world. It doesn’t seem possible. It was perfect. There are no words to describe it, hence the long-winded and awkward article that you’re reading now. But I will say that I have yet another thing to add to my long list of why TV on the Radio is one of the best bands in the world. I’m even going to go out on a limb and say that it was right up there with Man Man for the best live set I’ve ever seen. DO NOT MISS THEM IF THEY ARE WITHIN ONE HUNDRED MILES OF YOU.

I don’t remember the exact order, but here are the songs they played:

First Set: Satellite, Young Liars, The Wrong Way, Dreams, Poppy, I Was A Lover, Hours, Wolf Like Me, Let the Devil In, Dirty Whirl, Wash the Day Away
Encore: Province, Blues from Down Here, Staring at the Sun

Download:
TV on the Radio - Young Liars
TV on the Radio - Poppy
TV on the Radio - Dirty Whirl

- Dominick Duhamel -

Related Tags: TV on the Radio, Glass House, Cookie Mountain, mp3

Album Review: Chad VanGaalen

“Skelliconnection”
Sub Pop; 2006
6.5/10

There are several people I know that stand by Chad VanGaalen as the most criminally underrated voice in indie rock. I am not one of them. Of course, I think that his debut album, last year’s “Infiniheart” should have sold more than a measly 1,000 copies, but in general I never saw what was so special about him. And while “Skelliconnection” doesn’t give me any real answers, it does clarify a few things.

The lanky Canadian’s sophomore album shows a nearly exponential growth in songwriting maturity. His musicianship sounds much more confident, as if he’s learning to control his mind’s prolific output. And while this, at times, seems to subdue his eclectic tendencies and stranger arrangements, the music’s increased surefootedness works to his advantage. And, when he does break into banjo parts or xylophone solos, he does it with enough bravado to really sell them. He’s also found a better context in which to place his vocals, taking advantage of his high warble to further texture the music instead of rest uncomfortably on top. The chorus of “Mini T.V.s” is a perfect example of this, the chorus betraying his strained voice but bringing the valuable perspective of weakness to “They don’t love you, they don’t love you.”

His lyrics, too, have taken a huge step. My chief problem with “Infiniheart” was its alienating, sci-fi-focused musings. This time around, VanGaalen retains much of his paranoia of technology and fear for collective humanity, but tempers it with more accessible subjects that connect listeners with the music on a much more basic level. Verses like “Broken hearts last for a million years” and “If your words were to run away / I’d circle everything you say / and point the bubble back towards your mouth” bring the kind of balance necessary to let VanGaalen’s ramblings about needles and machines and blood loss develop into a real, veritable theme.

But despite the huge steps he’s taken in the last year, VanGaalen still has a long way to go. The main problem I have with this album is with the transitions. There often seems to be a lack of flow from verses to choruses to bridges, making it seem often as if VanGaalen has sort of forced the pieces of the songs to fit together instead of allowing them to flow together, which often jerks the listener out of focus. Several of the songs work magnificently, of course—opener “Flower Gardens”, “Mini T.V.s”, “Red Hot Drops”, and “Dead Ends” are all outstanding—but the majority of them are too easily seen as part of a learning process that VanGaalen is still very much a part of.

“Skelliconnection” is, then, more an indication of a bright future than anything else. VanGaalen has an enormous amount of potential, and its good to hear him slowly working his way toward it. But, as of now, we have three or four fantastic songs and an album decent enough to keep our fingers crossed for his next release.

Download:
Chad VanGaalen - Mini T.V.s
Chad VanGaalen - Dead Ends

- Dominick Duhamel -

Tags: Chad VanGaalen, Skelliconnection, Sub Pop, mp3

Track Review: Yo La Tengo

“Pass the Hatchet, I Think I’m Goodkind”
from “I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass”
7/10

So this week I was planning on doing a review of another Mystery Jets song, this time something from their UK release. However, I’ve barely had much time to do anything amidst what else is going on. With band camp all week for the UCLA Marching Band, I’ve maybe spent a couple hours in my apartment. So really, I just haven’t been listening to much lately besides marching stuff.

But I did find some time to pick up Yo La Tengo’s new album, “I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass”, and to sample a few tracks off it. Right off the bat, the album probably has one of the coolest titles ever. Really, I’ve seen it kick a few guys’ asses—it sucked for them. Also, the opening track is just awesome.

It starts off layering the groove with drums, then bass, and then some percussion with a strong backbeat. It establishes the groove very nicely, but what’s best are the tones of these instruments and the collective rhythm section. The ride cymbal has just enough of the wash sound so it gives the groove a nice soft layer of sound and some definition, and the toms that come into the verses every now and then have a great low end without being too loud. Also, the bass line is pretty phat. That’s the only way it can be described; the tone is just nice and thick. All of this creates such a nice sounding groove too, that these guys decide that they should just continue playing for pretty much eleven minutes.

Now that is not as badass it sounds. Eleven minutes of the same backbeat and bass line sounds tedious, but it actually passes quickly. The guitar solos all around the song create some very cool melodies every now and then. Then at other times, it’s fooling around with some light feedback and other impromptu things. In addition to that, the drums also play around with the main groove by throwing in toms here and there and playing some short but essential tom fills. In the end, the band keeps everything interesting and fresh.

Yet, I must say that generally I’ve just been playing this song as background music when I get up in the morning and go to bed. It’s not really an active listening piece; I believe it works best if it was just background. And since it is essentially one groove repeated the whole time, it makes sense. That’s why I’m keeping the score lower than I normally would. I really like everything about this song, but I feel that if there could’ve been some verses or chorus with audible lyrics that I might enjoy that a lot. In fact, there’s a lot of places this song could go. It probably could make for a very interesting live song.

Download:
Yo La Tengo - Pass the Hatchet, I Think I'm Goodkind

- John Higgins -

Tags: Yo La Tengo, Pass the Hatchet, I Am Not Afraid of You, mp3

Album Review: Cat Power

“Live Session – iTunes EP”
Matador; 2006
7/10

I like to equate reviewing a Cat Power album to listening to the girl you love play you the only thing she knows on guitar. No matter how clunky the chords to “Born to Be Wild” (or in Ms. Marshall’s case “Wild Is The Wind”) might sound it’ll always ring with a bit more splendor than it actually deserves due more to the performer than the actual performance. So am I saying I’m in love with Chan Marshall? Yes. In fact the first and only time we’ve spoken I proposed marriage to her (she said maybe). Am I saying the songs contained on this EP aren’t all that good? Not entirely. If you’re a fan of the Cat Power of yesteryear this might be exactly what the doctor ordered; a plaintive, stripped down and above all simple collection of songs recorded exclusively by Cat Power herself with none of that Memphis Rhythm mumbo jumbo around to muck it all up. Unfortunately, (because I know she pays very close attention to reviews on Paperstereo) I’m not one of those people. The gorgeous strings and fantastic backing band on her most recent album, “The Greatest”, provide a far more expressive backdrop than a simple guitar or piano can to a performer who had by that point in her career done as much as one really can with said instruments. It was about time that the pallet was extended and “The Greatest” turned out remarkably.

The disparity between these two styles is highlighted immediately with her reinterpretation of one of the most poignant tracks from “The Greatest”, “Love & Communication.” Where the album version swells and expands; this version slowly limps along to a fairly nondescript climax. Luckily Chan’s voice could carry even the most unexceptional song along, with all its cracks and sometimes achingly stunning power. “House of the Rising Sun,” a live staple for years, gets a similarly low-key rendition, though in its case, much like her version of “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” benefits greatly from annexing every nonessential element. Like Ryan Adam’s “Wonderwall” it’ll leave you wondering just how to hum the original because it so ingrains itself to your consciousness, sounding the way you secretly thought the song should always sound, but you weren’t quite able to put your finger on it. Having released a covers record, with another in the works it’s no surprise that Cat Power knows how to make a song sound all her own, a fact that is made extremely evident on her version of “Who Knows Where The Time Goes.” Her voice takes the lyrics for a ride, intoning and emoting with the best of them, but the real star here is her piano work. It’s both restrained and expansive, moving the song forward the way her voice usually does, plinking out the final notes with disquieting melancholy. Lastly, Cat Power puts in a fairly phoned-in version of “Wild Is The Wild.” Not surprisingly her voice is in top shape, the a cappella “You you you you” rising immaculately, but it somehow doesn’t seem to hold the desired weight one expects from a Cat Power song, especially one we’ve heard before in a similar fashion. So maybe this is simply four beautiful, if not a bit dumbed-down, versions of great songs by a remarkably prolific artist. Maybe this is just a throwaway stopgap between proper recordings, not to be taken all that seriously. Or maybe I’m just bitter that she turned down that marriage proposal.

- Matt Lindsay -

Tags: Cat Power, Chan Marshall, Live Session, iTunes, mp3

Live: Delta Spirit 9/16/06

It was only a couple of days ago that Matt and I were talking about how bad San Diego music really was. We spent an entire meal brainstorming, trying to think of a San Diego-based band that we actually liked. Sublime? No, they were from Long Beach. Pearl Jam? No, they came from Seattle, though most of them grew up down here. Louis XIV? That flame died pretty quick. Pinback’s not bad, I guess, but is that the best we’ve got? It’s sort of depressing, realizing that your city is the hardcore/scene capitol of the world and that all good music comes from other places.

Which is why God, in His infinite wisdom and perfect timing, brought Delta Spirit into my life. I first heard of them from Matt, who, while dicking around on the Lou’s Records website, noticed they were playing a free live show. He gave me the heads up, and so I headed over to their myspace to check them out. The first thing I noticed was that a long-haired troubadour by the name of Jon Jameson played bass in the band. Jon is sort of a celebrity among my friends—he and his sister, Jenn, went to my high school and he was one of the founders of Noise Ratchet, a fairly popular emo-rock band several years back. I hadn’t heard much about him since, though I noticed several weeks ago with great surprise he and his sister starred in Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s most recent music video, Cursed Sleep.

I played the tracks posted on their myspace and was instantly impressed. They had a “Kings of Leon head west with Britt Daniel and Julian Casablancas in tow” kind of feel to them, and so I agreed to see them at Lou’s the next day with Matt.



The atmosphere around Lou’s was pretty relaxed—the band was still setting up outside the record store a half-hour after they were supposed to have started, indie kids were leaning on cars and park benches chatting, and people were still inside browsing through the aisles. Matt and I picked up a copy of their EP, “I Think I’ve Found It!” (which isn’t actually released yet but for some reason was still on sale), got my camera from the car, and headed out front.

When they finally kicked off the set with the southern-fried “Gimme Some Motivation”, the crowd had reached around 35 people. But despite the small number in attendance, Delta Spirit rocked, and rocked hard. The singer (I’m not sure of his name) gave a soulful performance (which is one of the “five pillars” of their music, according to their blog), never failing to use his voice to its raucous, full potential. The rhythm section was phenomenal, the drummer nailing tight but unique grooves while Jon delivered the bass like the veteran he is. The guitars were mixed down a bit low, and the lead guitarist particularly seemed a little unsure of himself, but sonically the group was solid and energetic throughout.

The set only lasted about a half hour, as is the case with most in-stores, but nevertheless delivered some very memorable moments. One of the highlights came during the song “French Quarter”, as the singer took to the piano and belted the line, “You oughta know, I’ve lost everything but I still have my soul,” after a momentous guitar solo. Also fantastic was the anthemic end of “Streetwalker”, which found the singer and Jon howling “Oh Lord, set me free, set me free!” After telling anyone in the crowd over 21 to join them for the Phoenix show later that evening, the band began thanked the sufficiently rocked audience and began to pack up.



Matt and I mingled for several minutes after, talking with Jenn about what Will Oldham was really like in person (the line “Such a sweet” guy was repeated several times). She introduced us to Andy Bruntel, who directed the “Cursed Sleep” music video, with whom we talked about how shitty most music videos were these days. He mentioned a possible video he was doing with Art Brut, which was of particular interest to me as I had interviewed Eddie Argos for the Daily Bruin the week before. A large part of the audience stayed late as well, hanging out with the band and generally having a good time. It was everything a concert should be, only a little bit shorter.

But the point is this: Listen to this band. Buy their EP, which comes out sometime soon. Go see them play if they are within two hours of you. Please. The integrity of San Diego music depends on you. Plus, they rock hard, plain and simple.

Delta Spirit just got signed to Monarchy Music. Check out the label’s website and pre-order their EP here. Check out their myspace, too. Out of respect for the band, we’re not posting mp3s this time. Just trust us and buy the album—it’s worth every penny.

- Dominick Duhamel -

Tags: Delta Spirit, San Diego, Live, mp3

Live: The Black Keys 9/12/06

For how good the Black Keys are, there certainly weren’t very many people present for their short set at Amoeba Records in Hollywood. The duo of Dan Auerbach and Patrick Carney have been delivering solid blues-rock since their debut in 2002, and their show at Amoeba only further secured the crown of low-fi, white-guy blues upon their head.

The set was a short one—almost painfully short. They kicked it off with “10 A.M. Automatic” and “Girl On My Mind”, a couple of their more well-known tracks from 2004’s “Rubber Factory”. Auerbach’s voice is as raw and glorified live as it is on their albums, emanating from his bearded visage in a way so natural that its difficult to imagine him anywhere other than standing in front of you, singing his heart out. He was a joy to watch on stage, the music flowing through him and contorting his body at times, which, I’m fairly certain, had to do the fact that he was stoned. Carney was in top form as well, hammering out his trademark beats on a miniature jazz drum kit and doing his best to hide his priceless drummer faces.

They continued with a few tracks from their new album, “Magic Potion”, which had been released that very day. Both rocked pretty hard, though the extended and hard-rocking version of “Strange Desire” (which starts out with the terrific line “I don’t wanna go to hell / but if I do / it’ll be because of you.”) was the highlight over “Just Got To Be” and the album’s obvious first single, “Your Touch”. After a couple of older songs, the band closed with “Set You Free”, a fan favorite from 2003’s “Thickfreakness”. The set lasted twenty-five minute in all, and most in attendance were left wishing they had bought tickets to one of The Black Keys’ sold-out shows in L.A. later that week.

After getting our albums signed (a very rushed and impersonal process), my friends and I headed across the street to Jack in the Box to hold us over until we got home. On the way back to the parking garage, we bumped into Dan and Patrick, who were staying late talking to a few people. They both seemed socially uncomfortable, but I managed to strike up a conversation with Patrick, with whom I discussed his jazz drumset and style of drumming. He saw the signed vinyl copy of “Magic Potion” I had it in my hands and proudly pulled it out, explaining that the vinyl was very high quality, and that it sounds really great on a record player. We exchanged awkward goodbyes. And that was that.

Download:
The Black Keys - 10 A.M. Automatic
The Black Keys - Strange Desire
The Black Keys - Set You Free

- Dominick Duhamel -

Tags: The Black Keys, Live, Amoeba Music, Magic Potion, mp3

Mixtape: Songs For The Sleepy

Play this mixtape quietly as you begin to nod off to sleep, and you will have sweet and melodic dreams.

1. My Bloody Valentine – Sometimes [Download]
Probably most recognizable from the “Lost In Translation” soundtrack, “Sometimes” is one of the best tracks on “Loveless”, the group’s 1991 masterpiece. It’s all atmosphere and the perfect transition from the hurried pace of every day life into the peace of sleep.

2. Jens Lekman – Sky Phenomenon
Mostly piano and vocals, this song is the cushion that “Sometimes” falls upon. It’s slow and dreamy, even at the end when Lekman announces that he can’t dance the funky chicken.

3. Seu Jorge – Una Mujer
A track from 2005’s “Cru”, “Una Mujer” is jazzy and spacious, leaving plenty of space for Jorge’s soulful vocals.

4. Sun Kil Moon – Glenn Tipton [Download]
My personal favorite track from one of my personal favorite albums, “Ghosts of the Great Highway”. This song is Mark Kozelek at his best, wistfully sorting through memories across a nice acoustic background. It’s heartfelt and, ultimately, very peaceful.

5. Six Organs of Admittance – Lisboa
The delicate instrumental closer to 2005’s “School of the Flower”. Chasny’s subtle fingerpicking is magical, as always.

6. Ugly Cassanova – Hotcha Girls
Probably the quietist track off of “Sharpen Your Teeth”, this track catches Brock in one of his more delicate moments. The violin work is gorgeous and, several minutes through, gives way to a quiet, vocals-only chorus that’s truly something to behold.

7. Vashti Bunyan – Wayward
Few artists make music as peaceful as Vashti Bunyan. This track from her 2005 sophomore album showcases here pristine vocals and serene musicianship. Simple and wonderful.

8. Iron & Wine – Sodom, South Georgia
Bedtime is the perfect time for Sam Beam’s soft acoustic musings, and this track is no exception. One of many tracks that would work for this mixtape, “Sodom, South Georgia” is the narrative of a man reflecting on events of his life with peace and understanding.

9. Feist – Gatekeeper [Download]
This track is the quiet, jazzy opener from “Let It Die”. Feist’s voice is sublime as she sings of love and the changing of seasons.

10. Gustavo Santaolalla – Zenda
Best known in America for his contribution to the soundtrack of “The Motorcycle Diaries”, Gustavo Santaolalla is an instrumental artist from Argentina with a wonderful ear for dynamics. This track is among his quieter compositions, swelling only momentarily in the middle before slowly drifting off.

11. M. Ward – Let’s Dance [Download]
”Let’s Dance” is the perfect song to listen to right before you fall asleep. Ward’s voice is gentle and intimate, his guitar work is slow and moody, and his lyrics are romantic and soothing. Closing your eyes and savoring your last waking moments has never felt so good.

- Dominick Duhamel -

Previous Mixtapes: Murder Ballads, An Acoustic Evening, Artists On My iTunes That Start With "B", Badass Drum Mix 1

Tags: Bedtime, Mixtape, M. Ward, mp3

Live: The Wedding Singer on Broadway 9/6/06

I’ve been in New York for the past week now with my family. We came for our good friend’s wedding, and we decided we’d stay a little longer and see some sites and Broadway shows. Since I don’t really have anything to say about the new Beyoncé album, or the new Mars Volta album (which I heard last night, it’s pretty bad), or the just-released Justin Timberlake album, I guess I’ll talk about one of the newest Broadway shows that’s playing right now, The Wedding Singer.

Yeah, it’s a musical now. Who would’ve thought, huh? And guess who they got to play Adam Sandler’s role (Robbie Hart)? Stephen Lynch is actually a pretty awesome choice, but sadly he wasn’t performing the night I saw the show. Instead it was understudy Kevin Kern, who actually looks kind of like Stephen but with some curly hair. Then the other note-worthy character is Sammy, the bassist in Robbie’s band, who is played by Constantine Maroulis. You may recognize that name, he was one of those “rock” singers that was on American Idol two seasons ago.

In regards to the plot, it remains basically untouched. However, with a much smaller cast, a lot of the smaller characters (i.e. most of Robbie’s family) are cut out all together. What’s left to fill the void is Robbie’s band, which plays a more important role in the story. And of course, since it is a musical, there is much more singing and more songs in this version.

Overall, I thought the music was just what was needed for the story. Since everything’s set in the 70s/80s, the instrumentation is also pretty retro. For the most part it’s just a four piece band of drums, guitar, bass, and synths. The instrumentation can get a little too thin at times, and it definitely could use a small string/horn section here and there. But then again, there’s always money and time issues with Broadway so I can see how it can’t always work out. The outcome isn’t so bad, though.

The opening song, “It’s Your Wedding Day,” was a strong indicator of what was to come: some nice, funky pop music along the lines of Chicago (the band), Tower of Power, and Earth Wind & Fire. Also a cool little note is that when Robbie’s band is on stage playing the songs, Stephen and Constantine are actually playing their instruments. And Stephen really can sing; he’s more than simply joke songs, he’s about joke songs with a catchy melody and memorable vocals. I couldn’t get him out of my head singing that damn chorus over and over again.

Some of the songs get kind of cheesy, but in that cute way. Take “Get Out of the Dumpster,” for example, sung by Julia after Robbie’s first day on the job post-Linda. After insulting pretty much everyone at the wedding, Robbie gets thrown in the dumpster and decides to stay there, too depressed to get out and move on with life. Julia’s attempt to get him out includes lyrics like “Everyone has a dumpster / a stumbling block they can’t ignore / but to fight it makes you stronger / and next time you might stand.” They’re meant to be cheesy—this is a comedy after all—so it works.

There’s some great sounding pop rock songs, sweet mid-tempo funk tunes (“Someday”), pretty pretty ballads (“If I Told You”), and even a hip-hop, all about weddings, break-ups, and love. Nothing’s too ground breaking, but it’s damn catchy and performed very well. They even incorporate “Grow Old With You” with some light organ and percussion, which was a brilliant addition.

One of the few bad comments I have about the show are about all the synths. Sometimes they add a nice layer of lushness and energy, but other times it sounds like it comes out of some cheap plastic Casio keyboard. Other than that, I recommend The Wedding Singer for anyone that’s going to be in New York sometime soon. And if you won’t get a chance to see the show for a while, you can always get the soundtrack. It’s pretty much the entire show, so you can’t miss much.

Download:
The Wedding Singer - It's Your Wedding Day
The Wedding Singer - Come Out of the Dumpster
The Wedding Singer - Grow Old With You

- John Higgins -

Tags: Wedding Singer, Stephen Lynch, Broadway, mp3

Track Review: Joanna Newsom

“Emily”
from “Ys”
9/10

After allowing ample time for the dust to settle after Joanna Newsom’s 2004 debut, “The Milk-Eyed Mender”, I think I can safely say that there’s very little middle ground between those who love her and those who hate her. And, from the several times I’ve sat at listened to “Ys”, that middle ground is only going to shrink. The new album is, from a critic’s standpoint, so epic (six tracks, an hour of music, and hundreds of listens worth of subtleties) that the thought of reviewing it terrifies me. And so, until I can overcome the fear of taking on such a daunting project, I’ll stall with a review of the album’s first track, the beautiful “Emily”.

The second longest track on the new album, “Emily” runs for over twelve minutes, during which the music undergoes every change thinkable, jumping from momentous to carefree to weird to beautiful to poetic, all with a grace and effortlessness that makes the song interesting and enjoyable the whole way through. It’s truly an epic track—and though I hate using the word “epic” twice in one review, there’s really nothing else that works quite as well. Newsom’s harp acts as the subtle anchor throughout the song, skipping along while Van Dyke Parks’ string arrangements provide stellar dynamics and quirky embellishments. The strings, for the most part, complement Newsom’s own performance very well, though occasionally they grow too concerned with being unconventional and break apart from the song as a whole.

Newsom’s grown up in the last couple years, proof of which can be found all over this track. Though on her debut her voice sometimes sounded more like a gimmick than something to be taken seriously, on “Emily” she sounds as if she knows where her voice belongs best—over an epic (Damn it! Three times!) story-song that gives her room to explore the subtleties of her voice rather than a conventionally formatted pop song that casts her voice into uncomfortable roles. Rest assured, her vocal idiosyncrasies are still alive and well; they simply fit in better with music that’s almost equally as idiosyncratic.

Her lyrics, too, are as charming and poetic as ever, exploring strange metaphors, natural imagery, and storytelling elements and combining them into a mostly indiscernible but nevertheless beautiful whole. Though a single narrative on “Emily” is difficult to distinguish, Newsom comes back twice to a set of lines that could be considered a chorus: “The meteorite / is a source of the light / and the meteor’s just what we see / and the meteorite / is a stone that’s devoid / of the fire that propelled it to thee / and the meteorite’s / just what causes the light / and the meteor’s how its perceives / and the meteorite’s a bone thrown / from the boy that lies quiet and offering to thee.” Which, I think, speaks for itself.

“Emily” is a powerful song with layers of depth that, after several close listens, I’ve only touched upon, and a track that promises to yield treasures for some time to come. This is Newsom as Newsom ought to be—majestic, emotional, strange, gorgeous, overwhelming—and you can either take her or leave her right there. Me, I’m taking her.

- Dominick Duhamel -

Tags: Joanna Newsom, psych folk, Ys, Emily, mp3

Live: Sparta 9/1/06

Here’s what I learned from last Friday night: when in San Francisco, don’t go see a concert at Popscene.

The place is a pizzeria during a day and a “cool” and “hip” indie dance club on certain nights. Granted the club’s music selection was pretty good, it wasn’t attracting the crowd I thought it was going to. And I guess in addition to all of that that, many bands have been doing shows there throughout the years. I never heard of the place ‘til recently, when my brother, some friends, and I all went to see Sparta perform last week.

I’m not a huge fan of Sparta or anything, but I do believe they don’t get the credit they deserve. I think that’s partly because they have been stuck in Mars Volta’s shadow ever since “Frances the Mute” became such a huge hit. That, and Geffen didn’t try to promote their second album “Porcelain” at all. It was actually a pretty good album. So, yeah, I think it’s a shame, but oh well.

Now after a record label change, Sparta’s back with new guy Keeley Davis taking over after guitarist Paul Hinojos’ departure to be a “sound manipulator” for Mars Volta. As a side note, I don’t know why anyone would want to be the sound manipulator for a band when they were doing fine being a guitarist. It just seems like a step down, right? Anyways, it seems like the Jim Ward and Co. are more concerned about establishing themselves as a strong band rather than talking about their messy history. Too bad they played at Popscene.

After sitting through and playing mafia with my friends during the first two bands’ sets, we got up and went over to the stage for Sparta. We then waited another long while, and finally at 11:30 they started playing. They opened with the “Porcelain” track “Hiss the Villain,” but something was notably amiss. First of all, it was too fucking loud. The place was essentially a box made of brick, and it didn’t lend itself to good acoustics. The sound was pretty much just too loud and there wasn’t much that could be done. Then the guitars were noticeably out of tune. Then the drummer started skipping beats and losing his place in the song. Keeley also did this once or twice. How can this all happen with some veteran performers? The crowd, most of whom were really drunk by now, didn’t care and cheered and jumped their way through the song, but it really bothered me. After the song, Jim told the sound guy to turn the bass way down, as it was to loud for everyone on stage. Ok, so maybe that was the answer.

By the second song, another “Porcelain” track, the guitar issues seemed fixed, but the drummer continued to mess up here and there. Then, I believe before the fourth song, which I think was the Wiretap Scars track “Rx Coup,” (I apologize—I have a horrible time remembering setlists—but these songs were played) Jim Ward told the sound guy to turn up the click track on the drummers monitor. Ok… so maybe that’s the answer. But no, the dude continued to make fairly noticeable mistakes through the songs that followed.

And it was quite obvious what it was when I watched his reactions during the song: he couldn’t hear at all what was going on. The overall sound of the band was so reverbed and so washed out by Popscene’s acoustics, it was very hard to hear what was actually going on. You could tell a song was taking place, but guitar rhythms were pretty much nonexistent. And that must’ve made it extremely difficult for everyone on stage to know if they were even playing together or not. You could see they were second guessing themselves and stopping and coming back in trying to find their place in the music.

Regardless of all this, though, the purpose of the show was to promote Sparta’s upcoming album “Threes.” The first song they showed off was “Taking Back Control,” the track they put up on their myspace. And you know, they nailed that song. It was a relief to know they could manage to pull off a full song with no mistakes despite the difficulties. Another new track they played, “Weathering the Storm,” also seemed pretty neat.

But above all, the venue pretty much ruined the night. I had seen Sparta open for Incubus a few years ago, and they sounded much better than. But then again, they were playing at the San Jose Arena, with a much better sound system and better (though not great) acoustics. So I’m pretty sure that something must just be wrong with Popscene. And it’s fine that Sparta has an off night, it happens to the best of us.

Download:
Sparta - Hiss the Villain
Sparta - Sans Cosm

- John Higgins -

Tags: Sparta, Threes, Popscene, mp3

Artist Profile: Adrianne

Coffee house performers tend to be hit or miss. These small and intimate venues seem to attract either incredibly talented, non-mainstream artists or horrible musicians and singers who can’t get heard anywhere else. Los Angeles-based singer-songwriter Adrianne is a rare member of the former. She’s a touching performer with a natural talent for writing solid songs.

When you see Adrianne step onstage in her black tank top and tattoos carrying an acoustic guitar, you may start preparing yourself to hear the unfortunate results of a tough punk front-woman moonlighting as a singer-songwriter. Instead, her beautiful voice reveals an honesty and vulnerability that is the stuff of teenage diaries, expressed with the maturity of a grown-ass woman. Her vocals are straight from the gut and from the heart. Even if Adrianne didn’t posses the pipes she was blessed with, she could have a solid career as a songwriter. She knows the importance of song structure that is lost on so many others of her genre. You won’t hear any never-ending wailings of unintelligible lyrics from this woman. Adrianne’s songs are built to last, with great attention paid to indestructible chord progressions that sound fresh every time and choruses that could have been tailor-made for love-sick AIM away messages (that I’m guilty of posting myself).

What makes Adrianne even more appealing is her outstanding stage performances. She is both humble and confident, ready to share stories in between songs as if she were already best friends with each and every member of the audience. She giddily tells of how one of her favorite songwriters wrote a song about her, and urges us to listen to it on the band’s MySpace page--but she makes us promise not to tell anyone who it is. We hear of her embarrassment being the house performer in a restaurant in Mexico who was teased by the kitchen staff for not knowing any Spanish, despite her Latino heritage. She then sings a heartbreaking and flawless rendition of “Bésemé Mucho”, the one Spanish song she learned to appease them. In fact, Adrianne frequently compliments her own songs with unique covers. Most recently, she performed the Violent Femme’s “Blister in the Sun” in a style more lovely than I could have ever imagined anyone could achieve. Her most notable use of covers is on her song “Shooting Star”. Both live and on her record, Adrianne ends the song with about a dozen samples of popular songs that have the same chord progression. A good-humored jab at herself, the performance also illustrates the fact that Adrianne knows how to take what works and make it genuinely her own.

“Down To This” is one of Adrianne’s three albums. It is a collection of live recordings that sound just like they do each time I hear them performed. One of the best songs is the opening track, “Shout it Out”. When I first saw Adrianne by accident about two years ago, this song stuck out to me. I only heard it once before I was able to finally buy her album a year later, but I never forgot it. “Don’t whisper in my ear, shout it shout/ Shout it out loud so I can hear.” The driving acoustic style is catchy in the best way possible. In a more poignant song, “As I Am”, Adrianne tells of the challenges of facing prejudice but ends with the uplifting message of loving herself and only feeling sorry for those who just don’t understand her: “For them I might be praying/ I’m thinking they need saving/ For all those righteous feelings going round.”

Adrianne’s music is perfect for any time-–studying alone at night, nursing a broken heart with a pint of ice cream, driving in your car, or sipping an iced mocha in a coffee shop with your best friend. If she’s playing a show near you, do not miss out on an opportunity to see this talented musician live. If you can’t make it to see her, buy her CD, and I guarantee you will never get tired of it.

Download:
Adrianne - As I Am
Adrianne - Shout It Out
Adrianne - Shooting Star

- Stacey Capoot -

Tags: Adrianne, Down to This, mp3

Album Review: Bonnie "Prince" Billy

“The Letting Go”
Drag City; 2006
9/10

Introduction
I’m sure that anyone familiar with the work of Will Oldham is sick of hearing of critics who are still awaiting the “follow-up” to Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s masterpiece, 1999’s “I See A Darkness”. The fact is that these critics should go fuck themselves because: (a) “I See A Darkness” is a perfect album and expecting Oldham to produce something better is unreasonable and (b) Oldham does whatever he wants and I can guarantee the thought of making a follow-up to “I See A Darkness” hasn’t even crossed his mind. His last few albums haven’t done anything to quiet these bothersome critics either; his good-not-great minimalist folk left most fans still hungering for a dose of Oldham’s humanity in all its raw glory. But finally, in the Year of Our Lord 2006, Mr. Oldham has left us with “The Letting Go”, an album that is awe-inspiring in its own right and, I sincerely hope, enough to shut up ignorant critics for at least a couple months.

As I began to suggest in my track review of the album’s first single, “Cursed Sleep”, Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s most recent effort is all about juxtaposition. The elements that have gone into this album are many, and the result of their interaction is part of what makes “The Letting Go” so profound.

Love vs. Sex/Death/Sadness
The many forms of love have always had a significant role in Oldham’s work. One of Oldham’s stranger themes, and the one most unique to his lyrics, is the relationship between love and sex. As with any of his albums, erotic and suggestive verses are snuck throughout, often times in unsettling places. The ragtime blues of “Cold and Wet” ends with the line, “When things, they get too warm / make them a little wet,” while on “Cursed Sleep”, Oldham croons, “I dreamed of her inside of me.” The final thirty seconds of the story-song title track contains the surreal verse, “In the quiet of the day / I laid her low / and used her skin as my skin / to go out in the snow.”

Death plays another interesting concept against which to measure love. The album begins with the haunting first line, “When the number gets so high / of the dead flying through the sky / oh, I don’t know why / love comes to me.” On the track that follows, “Strange Form of Life”, he sings, “Across the nation / you found myself racing / forgetting the slayings.” The entirety of “No Bad News” dwells on the subject of death, its chorus declaring, “Something bad happens / and a lot of people go bad themselves / that’s how awful it is / turning half the heart / into something hard and dark.”

Sadness, too, plays a role, as it does in so much of Oldham’s work. His woeful vocal delivery aside, the lyrics never stray far from a partially gloomy outlook. “From what I know / you’re terrified / you have a mistrust / running through you / your smile is hiding / something hurtful,” he sings on “Lay and Love”. He laments the loss of his friend in the title track during the verse, “Then one December / bad weather came on / I went to our shared place / and nobody came / and it was dark / before I made my way home.” Again on “Cursed Sleep”, Oldham sings that, “I slept sweetly unpretending / that the night was always ending.”

But despite these strange and gloomy themes that appear throughout, love remains the centerpiece and counterpoint to all else. The album opener contrasts verses telling of despair and loss with a chorus of, “Love comes to me.” “Lay and Love” is a tribute to a lover in all her humanity, responding to both her strengths and weakness with, “It makes me lay and love you.” Later on the album, Oldham sings, “Love found us easily / and if that’s all we have / you will find / we need nothing more.” Love is clearly the stronger theme throughout, though the continued presence of sex, death, and sadness provide a context in which the true meaning of love comes to light. In a sense, the themes affirm that love is but a part, albeit an important one, of a variety of emotions and circumstances that make up human existence, and a firm foundation upon which to endure whatever may present itself as a challenge.

Oldham vs. McCarthy
From the very start, the interplay of Oldham’s vocals and Dawn McCarthy’s harmonies is the thing that makes “The Letting Go” stand out from Oldham’s other work. Oldham has always had a voice deeply rooted in loose and flawed delivery, his southern drawl perfect for his own purposes but hardly crystal clear and entirely controlled. McCarthy, on the other hand, never misses a note, her voice remaining consistently pitch perfect and otherworldly. Oldham’s voice remains the anchor for much of the tracks, often taking verses unaccompanied and allowing his characteristic wail to be heard elsewhere. In several cases, however, McCarthy’s breathtaking harmonies overtake Oldham’s melodies, making his parts secondary and somewhat less memorable. When McCarthy sings the verses on “Strange Form of Life”, when she changes the harmony to a minor at the end of “Lay and Love”, and for the entirety of “No Bad News”, Oldham is shifted the backburner, a first for someone who is rarely harmonized by anyone other than himself. There’s no sense of Oldham being less important, however; as he remains the focus of the majority of the material, McCarthy’s occasional possession of the spotlight serves the songs beautifully. Each time Oldham takes a step back, the transition from somber humanity to heavenly melody demands attention and brings to light the constant shift from strain and sadness to hope and beauty both on the album and in the perspective of the listener. McCarthy’s presence gives Oldham’s vocals a whole new meaning, bringing the focus away from the morose introspection and instead highlighting the ephemeral nature of human emotion, bouncing from pessimism and desperation to truth and wonder. The interaction of the two singers not only yields some truly gorgeous and interesting melodies, but musically reinforces the struggles and contradictions expressed in the lyrics.

Orchestral vs. Folksy
Another of the instantly noticeable departures from Bonnie “Prince Billy form is the string arrangements permeating almost half the album’s tracks, courtesy of Björk-producer Valgeir Sigurdsson. The fusion of Oldham’s traditional southern low-fi rock and the sweeping strings, contrary to some expectations, work together much better than ever could be expected. In addition to contributing to the album’s stellar dynamics and providing a new angle to the drums-guitar-bass setup, the strings’ most significant contribution is the sense of space within the songs. The songs that include such arrangements have a sort of openness to them, calling easily to mind images of barren expanses, hollow chambers, and natural wonder. In contrast to these tracks, those without string arrangements have more of a folk element to them, remaining simple and intimate and centering more on the words and melodies than rendering images through music. The contrast between these two types of songs, as well as the effect of alternating between them, serves the album fantastically, bringing the listener from a mental landscape to a moment of simple and truthful emotion and back again. Such shifts allow the listener to experience Oldham’s music as both introspective and revelatory, something that comes from within, whose source is basic human needs and emotions, as well as something that is experienced from without, filtered through perception and associated with images readily available in the mind.

Album Opener vs. Album Closer
When comparing the album’s first and last tracks, the differences are immediately apparent: the first, “Love Comes to Me” is a well-arranged song, tightly delivered and melodically conventional while the last, “Untitled” seems shoddily pasted together, several elements all out of time and using some strange effects, though it does provide for an interesting listen. If you look at the album as a whole, however, you can see that the transition from the first to last track takes place on a greater scale. The first five songs (four of which are focused a bit more on the orchestral) are the tightest and most traditionally arranged. The following three tracks all stray from this pattern, however: one of the guitars on “Cold and Wet” sounds as if its straining to get out of the amp, clicking and ringing inconsistently; on “Big Friday”, the duel acoustic guitars are slightly out of time, as are the vocals; there’s also a strange effected drum kit beneath the mix in “Lay and Love”. (As a side note, these three middle songs happen to be the weakest on the album and, while two of them still serve the greater good, only “Big Friday”, ironically the exact middle track of the album, could be done without.) The last five songs get even stranger. “Then the Letting Go” is all call-and-response, with no identifiable chorus. “God’s Small Song” is home to a strange wailing sound and a crescendo of trembling dissonant guitars. In fact, it seems the whole album shifts from the conventional and the traditionally arranged to the strange and uniquely collaged. This gradual destruction of form and the abandonment of tightly interlocked song elements parallel the breaking down of the world’s illusion of coherence and understandability into bits and pieces that don’t quite fit together. There’s a vague pattern, connection, and meaning, to be sure—but as the album progresses it becomes clear that it’s arranged in a way that represents the transformation of sure-footed steps into a sort of aimless wandering, for better or for worse.

Conclusion
I’m sure that, so far, this essay-like review has made me seem a pretentious, over-analytical, and generally uptight critic, putting astronomical weight on something that’s really just supposed to be music. And while hyperbole is par for the course in my average literary endeavor, it has its foundation in truth. Bonnie “Prince” Billy was never music for the casual listener, for the light of heart, or for the impatient. Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s music was always more woven into the fabric of reality than painted atop it, embracing the struggles of everyday life. And “The Letting Go” does this fantastically well. Here we have love as foolish but all-encompassing, sadness as a necessary evil, the conflict between hope/beauty and desperation/humanity, the problem of reality being both internal and external, and the desire to sort out the ill-fitting puzzle pieces of human existence. For those who listen to music to escape the pressures and sadness of life, this album is not for you. For those who want to embrace life with all its pains and flaws, there is no listen more refreshing than the work of Will Oldham, of which “The Letting Go” is among the best, and quite certainly the best since… well, you know where I’m going with this.

Watch:
Bonnie "Prince" Billy - Cursed Sleep [Music Video]

Quick Update: Oldham performed a stripped down (and breathtaking) version of "The Seedling" from "The Letting Go" during his Daytrotter Session, which you can download here.

- Dominick Duhamel -

Tags: Bonnie "Prince" Billy, The Letting Go, Will Oldham, mp3

Track Review: Justin Timberlake

“My Love [Feat. T.I.]”
from “FutureSex/LoveSounds”
9/10

Very rarely do I venture into the realm of pop music. There are a few pop songs I’ll admit I enjoy—Britney Spears’ “Toxic” and Beyonce’s “Crazy in Love” are a couple—but usually I’m content to stick with my indie roots.

This song is starting to make me question this decision. I’ve always been subject to an extraordinary amount of Timberlake’s work; my two best friends in high school were (and still are, in fact) the gnarliest *NSYNC fans I’ve ever heard of and I would rarely hang out with them without watching JT’s appearance on Saturday Night Live (“Bring it on in to Omeletville!”) or watching as they sang “Bye Bye Bye” into hairbrushes. I know, I know—I’m a real man’s man, aren’t I? Well, fuck you.

The fact of the matter is, this song is sick as hell and while I don’t know enough about pop music to make the absurd amount of pop culture references and technical explanations that I do in my articles on indie music, I still gotta spread the love.

This song is great in all the right ways. Timbaland’s production is crazy—it’s got washed out, delayed synths with a totally irresistible beat that’s one part bass/snare clicks and one part beatbox whisper. And, if you listen close enough, there’s what seems to be a Radiohead-style Ondes Martinot wail going on in the background. Badass. Just try not to dance. You can’t resist.

J.T.’s in top form too, spitting off hopelessly idealistic lyrics (“I can see us holdin’ hands / walkin’ on the beach, our toes in the sand / I can see us on the countryside / sittin’ on the grass layin’ side by side”) and snapping from loose, high-note crooning verse melodies to ultra-tight and melodically perfect choruses. The only bad thing you could say about this song is that Justin’s kinda being girly and melodramatic—but of course, that’s why he brings in some help. T.I. plays the yin to J.T.’s yang, contributing a little one-liner to the choruses and then taking the bull by the horns during the last verse and spitting some badass rhymes before Timberlake lays one more sweet chorus down. It’s perfect.

The last Justin Timberlake song I remember liking was “Cry Me A River” (though the last half of "Senorita" was pretty cool), and since that was a while ago, it’s good to hear something so damn solid from him again. This song gives me a reason to turn on the radio again and an incentive to risk occasional ventures out of my indie rock world. Pop and R&B doesn’t get any better than this. J.T.’s got eggs, and damn if he knows how to cook ‘em.

Because this song has not been released in any form, we can’t post it for download. But, if you can manage to track it down on the internet somewhere, it’ll be very worth your time, I promise. Until then, you can find a live video of the song here.

- Dominick Duhamel -

Tags: Justin Timberlake, My Love, FutureSex/LoveSounds, Timbaland