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(03/21/17 12:00pm)
by Preston Radtke
After five years of nomadic wandering in near irrelevance, The Shins surprisingly dropped an album. Heartworms is the fifth studio album by the New Mexico-based entity, following up 2012’s critically-acclaimed Port of Morrow. From the very beginning of the Shins, through all of their EP’s and LP’s, they strayed and scurried between three or four different somewhat-related genres within all of their albums. There’s the lo-fi indie-infused “New Slang” off of Oh, Inverted World, the fifties/sixties linked “Phantom Limb” from Wincing the Night Away, and the alt-pop classic “Simple Song” off of their 2012 release. But for the first time in their twenty-one year existence, the Shins may have strayed too far and too late. Heartworms dabbles in traditional Shins genres such as surf rock, indie rock, and traditional alternative rock. However, tracks like “Painting a Hole” and “Name for You” find the Shins crashing into the territory that is indie dance pop with confusing results. Unfortunately for the Shins, lead singer James Mercer still maintains his folk-leaning lyrical structures and delivery even on these new, beat-infused works. Furthermore, songs like “Cherry Hearts” and “Fantasy Island” see the Shins experimenting with some electronica and slight psychedelia. All of these stumbled-in-to-genre experiments all build to a singular question throughout the entire album: Is the rotating ensemble of bandmates and writers finally taking its toll on the Shins and rendering their music confused and misguided?
Vocals (Oh, to be young again):
This section will unsurprisingly center mostly on James Mercer. James Mercer’s light, care-free vocal delivery has won many hearts within the alternative and indie scene. Sadly though, Mercer’s voice comes across as much older and weathered on this album. He sings much lower, lower than even some of his low points on other albums, and he takes very few risks regarding high notes. The high notes he does attempt however, appear to be significantly diluted through use of generous reverb and vocoder. A prime example is “dead Alive”, a somewhat trippy experience hinting at folk rock, surf rock, and psychedelia. Mercer’s voice in this song is extremely distorted and echoey. When he goes up a few octaves, his voice takes on a more distant, and mystical sound. Aesthetically pleasing as this may be, this only furthers the idea that Mercer’s range has decreased noticeably from previous years. Frankly though, lots of reverberated vocals aren’t a bad thing, except the Shins do it so often on the previously mentioned “Dead Alive” and the title track, that the audience may get annoyed and disconnected from Mercer’s actual voice and consequently, the music as a whole.
There are vocal highlights on this album though. “Mildenhall”, the second single off the album, features beautiful imagery and pacing reminiscent of “New Slang” and other folksy Shins works from the past. The song “Half a Million” is an outstanding, hard-hitting dance ballad with perfect mixing and vocalizations by Mercer. The track prominently features the melodic randomness that the Shins have thrilled with before. The vocal patterns paired with the simple drum beat coexist to form not only the best dance track but one of the best songs off the album. “Half a Million” should have been the template for the Shins on their other dance-infused tracks. Instead, they focused more on beats and instrumentals and less on actual melody and vocalizations. When listening to this song, one thinks that Mercer wrote the lyrics, then crafted the beats around the structure and let them fill-in the vocal gaps in the piece.
Production: A New Kind of Anti-Folk
The majority of the tracks off Heartworms carry an unpleasant, almost too-perfect production standard that at times distracts from the actual songs. Save “Mildenhall” and “Half a Million”, all of the drum sections, guitar interplays, and synthes are just so clean and sleek sounding that they basically operate independent from Mercer’s vocals. The title track and “Name for You” feature overly produced instrumentals that nearly overwhelm Mercer’s folk-leaning lyrics. Furthermore, Mercer’s lyrics and delivery are not congruent with the production style and delivery of the instrumentals. The drums, guitars, and synths remind one of a slightly generic sounding pop rock work, whereas Mercer’s lyrics conjure up thoughts of surf rock, and mainstream folk rock. Other times on the record the mixer increased the relevance and dominance of Mercer’s voice to both overtake the odd instrumentation and to enhance his overall vocal reception. Admittedly, this does sound good, but it also furthers the divide between Mercer the artist, and Mercer the robot. The effect makes Mercer’s voice sound so much louder and more prominent than any backing instruments. With this increased comparative volume also comes increased echo and atmospheric constructs that allow his low-range voice to be hidden and distorted. No matter how much reverb and volume mixing, Mercer’s voice still lacks the range that it once had.
The State of the Shins (Is there a new Port?):
The Shins have thrived on randomness and kitschy quirk throughout their existence. Never taking things too seriously, the Shins have done numerous surprise shows, dropped singles after years of silence, and changed lineups rather cacophonously. That being said, one begins to wonder what the next steps could be for the Shins. This album was released five years after Port of Morrow, a fact that hints at irrelevance, desperation, and aimlessness. Why would a band release the lead single off of their new album nearly a year before the release date? Why would a band so late in their career try to near-drastically change their sound? Finally why would a well-established band with a reputation to uphold employ bandmates that virtually no one in the rock world knows of? In listening to this record, it almost feels as though this is Mercer’s big way of trying to show the music industry that his supposed single-handed dismantlement of the band in 2009 and all star lineup in 2012 was justified; as if they were all leading to this work. Unfortunately, this work doesn’t live up to the standards and expectations set forth by previous Shins releases. In the end, Heartworms is a solid enough pop idea, performed by a man trying to change things up too late in his career.
Top Tracks:
“Mildenhall”
“Half a Million”
Also in the Heartworms Family:
Band of Horses: Why Are You OK
Yeasayer: Amen & Goodbye
Deerhunter: Fading Frontier
All Images From: Billboard
(03/20/17 8:42pm)
by Ryan Fine
Husband-and-wife indie pop duo Tennis began their rise to power early this decade, growing an audience on the strength of simple, fun singles like “Marathon” and “Origins”. It’s been a few years since then, but for better or for worse, their sound has stayed remarkably consistent. Yours Conditionally is their fourth album together, released after switching labels for the second time in three years. On this record the band once again makes only minor adjustments to their sound, and to their credit, all of the changes are marked improvements.
Embracing girliness
To all the tough guys out there who hold monster trucks and football in high regard: Tennis is not the band for you. Vocalist Alaina Moore has made womanhood a central part of her identity since the very beginning, and on this album it is played up more than ever before. As is obvious from glancing at song titles like “Ladies Don’t Play Guitar”, this emphasis is often satirical and used to poke fun at societal norms.
Another song that tackles this head-on is “Modern Woman” which also happens to be the best song on the album. This song is a much more serious take on the subject, and Moore herself describes it as “a love letter to a friendship lost.” As promised, the lyrics directly address someone she used to be close to but whom she is no longer in contact with out of fear that she now hates her. The nostalgic melodies and regretful vocals make this one of the only truly emotional songs on the album.
The past is a well of inspiration
Even a cursory listen to this album makes it easy to tell that these guys listen to quite a bit of ‘50s and ‘60s pop music. Songs like “Matrimony” and “Please Don’t Ruin This For Me” mask this influence by introducing unconventional moods and production, while others such as “Fields of Blue” and “Island Music” don’t bother trying to hide it. Either way, it affects the sound of the entire record, giving a traditional feel to a collection of otherwise modern pop songs.
Of course, those who have listened to this band’s previous work know that this is nothing new for them. For the most part Yours Conditionally simply sticks to the formula of what came before it, and that formula has predictably led to yet another decent pop-rock record. The band could definitely stand to throw a curveball every once in awhile, but because they are clearly trying to appeal to fans of simplistic indie pop, this sound still works for them right now. Sooner or later, however, they will have to evolve in some significant way, or they will find themselves lost in the crowd behind Alvvays and Real Estate.
An improving melodic ear
The biggest thing that makes Yours Conditionally a noteworthy album in the Tennis discography is that its standard of songwriting is a little bit higher. While some of their previous albums had a couple decent singles surrounded by filler tracks, there are no notable duds on their newest one. You could make a case for “10 Minutes 10 Years” or “Baby Don’t Believe” as being noticeably less exciting than the rest of the album, but even those tracks have some standout moments.
Overall, it seems like Tennis is finally grasping some of the melodic beauty that eluded them on previous records. The opening two tracks are some of the catchiest pure pop songs the band has written, while “Matrimony” stays more vocally subdued and allows a Beach House-style organ swell to create most of its drama. There are times when the album gets a little bit monotonous, especially toward the end, but thankfully the last two tracks reel the focus back in and end the record on a high note.
Best tracks:
“My Emotions Are Blinding”
“Modern Woman”
“Island Music”
Recommended if you like:
Best Coast
Lana Del Rey
Beach House
All Images From: CoS
(03/17/17 10:19pm)
https://soundcloud.com/user-519363288/remixed-s1e3-the-question-of-selling-out
On this episode of Remixed, we discuss the sudden changes in both All Time Low and Linkin Park and ask what it means for an artist to sell out. How can you tell if an artist is genuine? We also take a look at new music videos from Katy Perry and Lana Del Rey, and have a surprise update about Lorde's newest single.
Hosts: Sarah James, Wes Womble, Tt Shinkin
Graphic: Daley Wilhelm
Edited by: Sarah James
Be sure to check us out on iTunes!
(03/17/17 2:00pm)
by Preston Radke
Beloved Pop/R&B artist Frank Ocean surprised everyone with the premier of “Chanel” on his Blonded Radio show on Beats 1 Radio on the night of March 10. Upon first listen “Chanel” sounds like track 18 off of Blonde; the piece contains similar atmospheric constructs, vocal patterns and lyrical themes found on Ocean’s revered 2016 album. “Chanel” is one of those tracks that one appreciates the more that they listen to it. On the surface, the song’s appeal and palatability do not change even after five or so spins. However, one realizes the more subtle, technical innovations upon further close listening.
As is expected with most of Ocean’s work, “Chanel” is a vague, yet specific love song. We don’t know who he is, or who he’s singing about. Yet the lyrics and the slowed down tempo imply a classic love song. The lyrics in the first half of the song seem to be pointing toward a partner of some sort, exemplified by the somewhat intimate vocalizations and rather vivid imagery. On the other hand, after the first chorus (“I see both sides like Chanel see on both sides like Chanel”) the song takes on a more disjointed, conflicted tone. Frank’s lyrics get distorted and cross recorded with his own voice raised a few octaves singing about this partner but in a more antagonistic or id-esque manner than before. Though this came across as different, and a nice change-of-pace, the inclusion of the aggressive cross recording really negatively impacts how the song connects to the listener. When I listened to it, I found myself getting confused and trying to figure out what Frank 1 and Frank 2 were saying. Instead of getting soaked up in the music, I almost felt like this was an assignment of Capture the Frank.
Ocean’s overall vocal delivery doesn’t stray too much from Blonde. “Chanel” starts out sounding more Channel Orange, but at around the 1.50 mark, the vocoder and/or auto tune effectively and artfully kick in, thus Blondizing this song for the duration. Ocean uses a simple somewhat layered beat. This is by no means a dance song, but there is a rhythm buried deep.
As brutal as this sounds, “Chanel” really felt longer than its 3 minute run time. The choruses were quick and not necessarily worth dwelling on; the cross recording lost its shine quickly, and frankly, the bridge-onward felt forced and disjointed. Ocean spent about a minute singing about different types of credit and gift cards that he has or will have. It felt like he was trying to be deeper and more symbolic than he came across.
Aside from the duel vocalizations, this song really didn’t move Frank Ocean too far forward. Blonde was a 17 track epic that redefined Ocean’s sound, yet this song really didn’t sound that different. If Ocean wanted to release something to get his name out there, then he should have produced something new and innovative. Again, this just feels like a track that could comfortably slot in after “Nikes”, or “Solo.”
All Images From: The Interns
(03/14/17 11:00am)
by Preston Radke
World Eater, the latest album by British electronic outfit Blanck Mass, is an inter-galactic roller coaster ride. The brain child of Benjamin Power, Blanck Mass arrives slowly on their third studio album building to something seemingly dark, terrible, and beautiful in almost every song. World Eater is by far the most ambitious, mature release from Blanck Mass. The work incorporates the power and majesty of the self-titled debut with the accessibility and awareness of 2015’s Dumb Flesh.
Accessibility: Power Remains Nice, Yet Firm
Benjamin Power has often been labeled “the nice guy of the electronic movement.” Through his work with Blanck Mass, Fuck Buttons, and his various film scores, Power has written raw, dark music that checks every box of electronica while still being accessible to the novices. World Eater layers many traditional instrumental and melodic patterns beneath thunderous drums, cacophonous guitars, and cosmic synths. The opening track, “John Doe’s Carnival of Error”, takes the hand of the listener through the use of a continual keyboard-induced melodic trope atop an almost pastoral-sounding synth part. However, at approximately the 2-minute mark, that hand gets ripped off and shredded when the piece suddenly acquires a rare yet unrecognizable vocal part, paired with a vicious beat. The rest of the opener, while sounding very electronic, takes on a more industrial aesthetic; the synthesizers and electronic drums sound more like factory machines rhythmically churning out iron and steel for some intergalactic warship. The fifth track, “Silent Treatment”, also lulls the listener into an unsteady comfort through the use of traditional, familiar sounding beats and melodies only to slowly, methodically crush the listener under murderous drum parts and indiscernible vocals.
Meaning: A 7-part Concept Album
With most electronic and noise records there is a concept and message from the piece. In almost all cases the concept or message is more assumed and hinted at, allowing the listener much more freedom to imagine and fill in the blanks with their mind. World Eater differs in the sense that all of the tracks almost feel like concept works in-and-of themselves. Fortunately, or unfortunately, it feels like they are all linked, but there’s no obvious, unifying trope or story arc to guide the audience from piece to piece, showing the listener what they’re supposed to be getting out of the experience. Instead, World Eater makes the listener think and decipher what Power is trying to imply. Tracks 1, 2, and 7 all have whispers of industrial warfare and social uprising while tracks 3 and 4 paint the picture of a dystopian superwar between multiple parties on some ravaged, crippled planet. Power pushes these implications and assumptions through his very heavy and slightly left-of-center drum fusions as well as his sneaky synth work. In many cases, Power’s synthesizers put the listener in a mood, usually a comfortable, yet measured one, while slowly increasing dissonance and chaos until the listener is totally overwhelmed and conquered by the avalanche of noise.
Impact: This Could Be a Landmark
World Eater just might be one of those legendary noise/industrial/electronic albums that the next Aphex Twin cites as a tremendous influence. The record certainly doesn’t feature any new or overly innovative instrumental parts, and the themes are old as time, but the record blends the post rock of Mogwai with the industriality of early-2000’s Nine Inch Nails with the atmosphere and luster of ambient legends such as the Orb and Squarepusher. The experience of Blanck Mass implies that Power is very familiar with all genres of music, blending many of them together to form his terrible beast. “Rhesus Negative”, the second track on the album, features a dance-ready beat, ambient pacing, industrial synths, all beneath an outline of a chorus that we think we could know. That outline of a chorus manifests itself into rhythmic instrumentals congruent with a typical chorus section of an alternative, or even a pop song. However, there aren’t any actual lyrics, just instruments backing a front with no leader. Other pieces carefully layer genre-specific motifs beneath somewhat familiar marquees and structures.
Highlights:
“Rhesus Negative”
“The Rat”
“Hive Mind”
In the World Eater Family:
Oneohtrix Point Never: Garden of Delete
The Field: The Follower
Caribou: Our Love
All Images From: BandCamp
(03/13/17 6:30pm)
by Ryan Fine
England’s Alt-J are a bit of an odd success story. Their 2012 debut An Awesome Wave didn’t seem like a typical candidate for worldwide success with its unusual song structures and alien-like vocal style. Nevertheless, singles like “Tessellate” and “Breezeblocks” slowly gained an audience in the Western hemisphere before the album was finally released in America a few months after its European release. By the time they followed it up with This is All Yours in 2014, the world was ready to hear something even more strange and dramatic. What they got instead was a quaint album with a loose story arc and only a few loud moments.
Their newest song, “3WW” (which I will forever pronounce “three-dubs”), follows that trajectory even further. Despite its subtle intensity, this is the most relaxed song the band has released by far, which is only to be expected as the lead single from an album called Relaxer. It notably contrasts acoustic guitar with synthetic percussion throughout the entire instrumental introduction, with the rest of the song going through various musical phases.
Generally speaking, a lead single is supposed to be catchy and immediate, especially when the song is also the opening track of the record. “3WW” is a bold subversion, guaranteeing that the first two minutes of Relaxer will be much more subdued than even the introduction tracks from Alt-J’s other albums. Even when the vocals finally come in and Gus Unger-Hamilton starts setting the story of the “wayward lad”, it doesn’t yet feel like the song has begun in earnest. For the rest of the song, it almost seems like this boy’s tale is happening in a different world from the main lyrics, which detail a narrator’s poetically vague experiences with love.
The song’s cryptic title is finally unraveled in the chorus, where it is revealed to stand for “three worn words.” Presumably, those three words are “I love you”, which many people believe are overused in media. The end of the chorus features the band’s most beautifully delivered line ever, as the instruments cut out and Joe Newman sings “I just want to love you in my own language.” Overall, these choruses are the lushest parts of the song, which is saying a lot since all of these sections are beautiful on their own.
The only real issue is that I’m not sure the various sections of the song flow into each other the way they should. Having three different singers, not all of whom are singing about the same thing, was a risky move when the choruses and verses are so instrumentally distinct from each other. It’s hard to connect all these pieces in only five minutes, but these guys do their best, and they patch it together in a way that still makes it listenable.
If the rest of the album sounds like this, as its title would suggest, then there is a lot of reason to be excited. This song is a lot different from anything this band has done before, bearing much more similarity to drummer Thom Green’s solo work. There are even some shades of early Pink Floyd in the storytelling sections, but it barely ever recalls even a moment from An Awesome Wave. It’s good to see that the band can paint with a different palette and still make it as serene and interesting as this.
All Images From: Genius
(03/11/17 12:00pm)
by Ryan Fine
When you have a band made up of three women, for some reason it becomes impossible for the media to focus on anything else. Such is the struggle of the Los Angeles pop-punk band Bleached, who is increasingly in demand for festivals since signing to Dead Oceans a few years ago. After releasing two full-length albums and hearing the question, “What’s it like to be a girl in a band?” one too many times, the band has crafted another short EP to channel their frustration.
Bringing on the energy…in some places
Can You Deal? begins with its skippy yet aggressive title track, whose contrasting moods make it one of the highlights from the first listen. The verses dodge the beat like an elementary school playground rhyme, making it feel like the rest of the record will be just as fun, but the chorus tells another story. As soon as it arrives, the drums go into double speed and the whole thing becomes much more punkish and angry. “Dear Trouble” is equally impressive musically, shifting seamlessly between moods of contempt and timid self-doubt.
“Flipside” is the simplest song on the EP, working in the same vein as many other spacious pop groups. It is a welcome change of pace between two cuts that are much more hard-hitting. Unfortunately, also sandwiched between them is the clumsy “Turn to Rage”. This track starts as the most face-melting rock song Bleached has made to date, but just as Clavin begins singing directly about her rage, the music instantly becomes slower and less emotionally charged. Sudden changes of pace are great when they work, but here they just make the song trip over itself and lose any momentum it might have previously built.
Playing in the lyrical kiddie pool
The great thing about the EP format is that it allows an artist to be quick and to the point. If there’s something important that needs to be said, it’s not that hard to hold people’s attention through the duration of the shortened product. The downfall is that if there’s an aspect of the record that’s not as fleshed out as it could be, or a song that’s noticeably weaker than the others, it affects the overall quality a lot more than it would on a full-length album.
For Can You Deal?, that weak point is the lyrics. The band had some great ideas for songs, but none of them reached their full potential because they couldn’t seem to scratch below a surface level for lyrical ideas. They attempt to describe their emotions on complex social issues with lines like “I’m really feeling heated,” or otherwise make use of age-old clichés like “Baby I wanna be your slave” or “Round and round, we can go all night.”
The only place where the basicness really works is the pointed closing track “Dear Trouble”. This track personifies the narrator’s internal bickering in a very direct way, which is summarized by the simple refrain of “Dear trouble, go away.” It’s just enough to tell the story and nothing more, which is a nice final thought to a record that doesn’t usually go far enough.
A melting pot or an identity crisis?
Out of context, there’s nothing actually wrong with the musical content of these four songs. The songwriting is rooted in snappy punk music, but the clear, spaced-out production style ensures that it isn’t heavy enough to lose its immediate appeal. Bleached offers a different take on pop-punk from most of the more popular groups in the genre, but its necessary qualities – its catchiness mixed with a tame aggression – are still there in droves.
The problem for Bleached is that most of it has already been done by their contemporaries. Listening through the record can lead to an odd sense of déjà-vu if you’re familiar with bands as diverse as Sleigh Bells, Cults, and even Queens of the Stone Age. It doesn’t necessarily mean that Bleached copied those bands on purpose, but it still makes me want to listen to those other bands instead, especially because in most cases, they pulled off the idea better in the first place.
This will not break the album for a lot of people, especially those who are more familiar with pop-punk music than indie or alternative. Still, even though I could see a lot of people enjoying this record quite a bit, I’m not sure Bleached is about to become anyone’s favorite band because of it.
Best tracks:
“Can You Deal?”
“Dear Trouble”
Recommended if you like:
White Lung
Paramore
Hinds
All Images From: Multipix
(03/09/17 1:12am)
by Ryan Fine
“…this is that drunk girl at the party dancing around crying about her ex-boyfriend who everyone thinks is a mess. That’s her tonight and tomorrow she starts to rebuild.” – Lorde (Beats 1 Radio)
It’s been four years since New Zealand singer-songwriter Ella Yelich-O’Connor, better known as Lorde, took over the world with her clever, lyrically dense pop breakthrough “Royals”. The album that followed it, Pure Heroine, mostly followed the same subject matter as its first single, dealing with disillusionment toward suburban life. It was noticeably toned down, sort of influenced by trip-hop music, and a lot more insightful than you would expect from a 17-year-old girl.
Since then, Lorde has been busy curating movie soundtracks and generally living life with only enough time left over to release a couple of standalone songs. Now it’s finally time for her to make her triumphant return. With “Green Light”, the lead single from her highly anticipated second album, Melodrama, Lorde sees herself embrace the pop music zeitgeist in full. It is not devoid of the unique lines that originally made her stand out, but the subtlety of Pure Heroine is gone, and she now veers closer to the shouted chorus territory of Icona Pop or Charli XCX.
On a first listen to “Green Light”, it’s easy to mistake it for being a happy song. The pounding beat and dance-like piano instrumentals make it feel like your average upbeat dance anthem. On a slightly closer look, it turns out this is actually Lorde’s first-ever undisputable breakup song. The Grant Singer-directed music video, which shows the pop star morosely wandering through the streets of Los Angeles, confirms that it isn’t about a pleasant experience, and the singer herself is quoted as saying that she wrote it about her “first major heartbreak”.
Of course, as harsh as it sounds, breakup songs have been done countless times before, and in that sense she’s really not blazing any new trails. In a way, though, the fact that she is now writing about the same thing as everyone else is an evolution for Lorde, simply because she has never done it before. It’s interesting to see her take on this trope for that reason alone. Her sense of melody is impeccable as always, and she still uses the necessary imagery to help us understand her rash anger (“Those great whites, they have big teeth / Hope they bite you”). Despite all this, “Green Light” is not Lorde at her most imaginative, and I hope she ends up going a bit deeper at other points on her new album.
Even if this is not a perfect song, it’s good to see Lorde finally arrive back on the scene. Her sound has not necessarily been missing, but that’s only because so many other pop artists have tried to emulate it in the years since “Team” and “Tennis Court”. That’s the only disappointing thing about this new track. Even though it’s a well-written song that expertly treads the line between catchy and emotional, there’s nothing new here to influence the way other artists make music. This isn’t a song people are going to complain about hearing on the radio; in fact, there’s no reason to think they won’t legitimately enjoy it or even love it. For the moment, though, Lorde is more of a follower than a leader, so even though “Green Light” is a very good song, I’m not yet ready to call it a great one.
All Images From: Anyarena
(03/07/17 9:01pm)
by Preston Radke
The latest single from lo-fi recording artist Alex G moans at you deep from the wilderness of his assumedly tortured and weathered soul. “Bobby” is an experimental breakthrough for the native Philadelphian, with a small string section, and an omni-present banjo accompanying his usual acoustic guitar and Elliot Smith-esque vocals. At only twenty-four, this release marks an extreme innovation in his work. “Bobby” is the lead single off of Rocket, his upcoming studio record to be released in May.
“Bobby” details the plight of a protagonist’s suffering relationship with someone (Bobby) who just seems to not care about the couple anymore. “Bobby” is one of those tracks where the meaning and fervor of the piece is gleaned more from the deep, and layered instrumentation than through the lyrics. The lyrics are very beautiful and heartfelt, but the interplay between the banjo, acoustic guitar, and violins truly set the overall tone and theme for the piece.
The theme of love gone awry via negligence is certainly not a new trope to either the listener or the artist, but it’s Alex G’s unique and textured delivery that truly makes this song stick out above others. He isn’t saying anything new here, but he’s delivering it in a very new and slightly complex manner.
Since his debut in 2011, Alex G has made his mark as a low-fidelity Indie songwriter. His previous works have had whispers of Pavement, Neutral Milk Hotel, and screams of Elliot Smith and Lucinda Williams. This single however added a new dimension. His piece, while still sounding very Alex G, sounded very folky, and even slightly country. The overall tempo of the piece marauded in a slow, consistent manner resplendent of slow, acoustic-based country ballads. The addition of the banjo and certain lyrical themes further pushed Alex G in to the country genre.
Alex G has detailed his recording style and production leanings. The artist has routinely said that he does all of his recording in his bedroom in his Philadelphia home, and limits the amount of mixing and dubbing, instead relying on his ability as a live performer. “Bobby” carries that same under-produced style reminiscent of his previous work. Naturally, there was some added mixing and production needed on this track due to the presence of additional instrumentation, but he was still able to maintain the minimal sound that he has stuck to for the past six years.
Also in the “Bobby” Family:
Pure Ex: Dream Over
Frankie Cosmos: Is It Possible/Sleep Song
Girlpool: Before the World Was Big
All Images From: Bandcamp
(03/04/17 11:00am)
by Preston Radke
The latest release from Cardiff-based outfit Los Campesinos! Is an exercise in nostalgia. Sick Scenes, is the band’s sixth studio album following 2013’s No Blues. This album does much well, and very little poorly. However, this album also does even less regarding innovation both compared to their genre, and their catalog.
Context and meaning (don’t look too hard now…):
Finding meaning in a Los Campesinos! song is effective, yet impersonal. Songs such as “I Broke Up in Amarante”, and “For Whom the Belly Tolls” all skirt the limits of deep, and sensitive topics. Unfortunately, in both cases, the context, and lyrical structure do not match the fervor or pace of the instrumentation. “I Broke Up in Amarante” lyrically details a breakup of a seemingly lost soul with a significant other, simultaneously eluding to internal, and psychological warfare. Los Campesinos! almost negate what they’re saying in this song, and many others, through the use of their overly bouncy, and seemingly positive instrumental constructs. Consequently, as a listener, we receive these constraints and mishaps as if they’re being told to us by a friend of the person, and that person really isn’t much to us.
With that in mind, one wonders if Los Campesinos! does this on purpose. On previous releases like 2013’s No Blues, they also heaped heavy, and deep lyrical parts over dance-ready beats.
Production: Well produced in nearly a poorly-produced sort of way:
Certain bands have a sound. For some bands that may come in the form of a singer’s voice, guitar parts, or even vocal melodies. Los Campesinos!’s “sound” is a merger of Gareth’s punchy, nearing-frantic vocal delivery; and Jason’s very-present, and near-cliched drum parts. Though still an independent band, Los Campesinos! did a great job mixing this album. They were able to maintain that approaching-garage-rock-but-still-discernable vocals-aesthetic that they’ve excelled at for the past eleven years. Gareth’s artfully shouted and carefree vocals are very understandable and discernable over Jason’s previously mentioned “very present” drum parts.
Evolution: For this band, time stands still:
Los Campesinos! Haven’t changed. Six albums in they are still producing the same dance-ready, college-leaning Indie dance pop reminiscent of Japandroids and Franz Ferdinand (but don’t say that so loud). With the exception of their second LP, “We Are Beautiful, We are Doomed” all of their albums feature very similar guitar sections, choruses, and lyrical content. This reviewer wishes that Sick Scenes harnessed and tapped in to some of the Noise Rock experimentation realized on their second release. That being said, if you love Los Campesinos! for what the majority of their previous releases were, then you’ll absolutely adore this record. If you were looking for some sort of innovation, or change-of-direction, then you’ll have to wait until their next release, which shouldn’t be too long considering the band’s previous release timeline.
Songs worthy of the Noble Order of Preston:
“Renato Dall”Ara (2008)”: The opening track allows Gareth’s high-energy vocals to grab the listener and bring them on a journey to whatever party, or rambunctious scenario that this man is involved in. Great drum and guitar interplay as well. A perfect example of phenomenal instrumentation, great vocal patterns, and totally meaningless lyrics.
“Got Standhal”s”: Seemingly buried on the record, this track gives a very, ever so brief glimpse in to some experimentation. The track, unfortunately lacking in lyrical significance, features nontraditional guitar work, and surprising synthe and keyboard constructs.
Other Highlights:
“The Fall of Home”
“Hung Empty”
“Sad Suppers”
In the Sick Scenes Family:
Japandroids: Near to the Wild Part of Life
Cloud Nothings: Life Without Sound
LVL: Return to Love
All Images From: DIY
(03/04/17 12:41am)
by Ryan Fine
Author’s note: Since I’m coming at this from a pop/rock background and I'm no expert on microtonal music, I wasn’t surprised to learn that I missed a couple of important details. First and foremost, this album was hugely inspired by the scales of several Anatolian/Turkish rock artists from the ‘70s with a similar sound, such as Erkin Koray and Moğollar. Second, the words “microtonal” and “xenharmonic” are not completely interchangeable. “Microtonal” does mean using notes outside of Western scales, but “xenharmonic” means sounding strange or wrong to our ears because of the extra notes. Since its use of microtonality is pretty mild, many people don’t consider Flying Microtonal Banana to be very xenharmonic at all! Big thanks to Steven Weigel (fearless leader of the BSU Xenharmonic Music Alliance) and Tolgahan Cogulu (microtonal guitar expert whose version of Âşık Veysel’s “Kara Toprak” was the basis for “Sleep Drifter”) for all the new information!
As you may be able to tell from their name, the Melbourne psychedelic rock band King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard are maybe the most deliberately bizarre musical group around right now. Even though they don’t go out of their way to make their music hard to digest, they experiment in very calculated ways to make sure they show a different side of themselves with each new release.
With Flying Microtonal Banana, their ninth studio album in only five years (and the first of at least four that they’ll be releasing in 2017), the band is dipping its toes into microtonal tuning, also known as xenharmonics. Rarely ever used in rock or pop music, microtonality simply refers to using pitches that cannot be found on a piano. The way these tones are used on Banana is obvious enough that they might jump out at the listener, but subtle enough that there’s no need to worry about it being too weird to stay interesting.
Melodically complex, structurally simple
Flying Microtonal Banana opens with the chugging desert jam “Rattlesnake”. Right from the starting gate, this song showcases some of the record’s biggest strengths, and reveals some of its biggest weaknesses. Like most of the songs that follow it, “Rattlesnake” is built on a strong classic rock groove as its foundation. This gives it an unrelenting energy for the whole track, which, while respectable, actually ends up being a part of the problem. It is the longest song on the album at nearly eight minutes, and I find myself wishing it would throw more curveballs to fill up the time.
That said, this is easily one of the catchiest songs on a record full of earworms. The other two singles, “Sleep Drifter” and “Nuclear Fusion”, as well as the bossa nova-influenced “Melting”, are also great songs that linger long after the album is over. The unconventional tuning only helps to ensure that their beautifully sculpted melodies will not be forgotten.
The only major structural flaw of the album is its relative lack of dynamic contrast. Nearly the entire 41 minutes is allotted for songs that are just as driving as the first one. The only slightly calmer moments are “Billabong Valley” and the closing instrumental title track, neither of which can really be considered highlights. King Gizzard has never been known for their ballads, but since they’re exploring new territory anyway and they’re not getting any louder, they might as well start getting quieter.
The lyrics: reading between the notes
From the drowning narrative of “Open Water” to the Beijing smog described in “Doom City”, the common theme of this album’s lyrics is urgency. The earth is melting. Fire is sucking all the oxygen out of the air. There is a rattlesnake following me. It seems like in many of these songs, there’s always something that needs to be done before it’s too late. And how do they make sure we know that it needs to happen right away? They repeat it over and over again.
Now, repetition is not necessarily a bad thing, and there are definitely spots where it works on the album (“Open Water”). Other times, like in “Rattlesnake”, it might be preferable if the band had something new to say. The repetition is really just a result of the simplicity, though, and simplicity is never really a flaw in itself unless you’re the drummer for The White Stripes.
The bottom line is, the lyrics in Flying Microtonal Banana are no work of poetry, but they’re not necessarily meant to be. The music is king, and the lyrics simply do what they need to do to bring the attention back to the music. They’re not meaningless, but they are clearly not supposed to be the focus.
Xenharmonics: Great experiment or just a gimmick?
If the word ‘microtonal’ was not in this album’s title, it might not always be obvious that there is something unusual about the tuning of these instruments. There are certainly a couple of tracks, like “Open Water” and “Billabong Valley”, where the rogue pitches are very out in the open. For many of the other songs, the band tries to make it all sound as natural as possible. I’m not sure there’s a note in “Anoxia” that couldn’t be played on a piano.
Could King Gizzard have done more to show how unique microtonal music can be? Absolutely, but it’s hard to say whether that would have improved the album or not. With a couple of small exceptions, the band uses xenharmonics as an aid, not a crutch. Coming from a band that has made very conceptual albums in the past, it may have been nice to see them have some sort of unifying vision other than microtonality, but it’s also good to see them celebrate an overlooked area of music with an infinite amount of potential.
If you enjoyed this, look out for the band’s next album Murder of the Universe to drop within the next couple months.
Best tracks:
“Open Water”
“Sleep Drifter”
“Nuclear Fusion”
Recommended if you like:
Tame Impala
Led Zeppelin
Queens of the Stone Age
All Images From: Spill Magazine
(03/03/17 10:21pm)
This week, The Deadbeat Club grabs their favorite vinyl and sits down in the lounge with their lo-fi album of choice: Cherry Peel by Of Montreal.
(03/02/17 8:09pm)
https://soundcloud.com/user-519363288/the-deadbeat-club-s1e5-cherry-peel-of-montreal
This week, The Deadbeat Club grabs their favorite vinyls and sits down in the lounge with their lo-fi album of choice: Cherry Peel by Of Montreal.
We breakdown song by song, and look into the Beach Boy-esque aesthetic of this album from barbershop quartet feels to A+ instrumentation in B- songs.
A lyrically complicated piece, sit down a listen as we fight for meaning on this episode of The Deadbeat Club podcast.
Hosts: Graham Taylor, Preston Radtke, Ryan Fine
Logo by: Daley Wilhelm
Edited by: Sarah James
Be sure to check us out on iTunes!
(02/24/17 10:13pm)
https://soundcloud.com/user-519363288/the-deadbeat-club-s1-e4-hokey-fright-the-uncluded
This week The Deadbeat Club examines The Uncluded's album Hokey Fright.
We examine whether it's better to take it seriously, go with the flow, or consider the dark and personal matters in this generally tongue-in-cheek, nostalgic album.
If you like quirkiness, sudden sadness, train noises (?), and Eyeball Soup give us a listen.
Hosts: Preston Radtke, Graham Taylor, Ryan Fine, Jacob Harding
Logo by: Daley Wilhelm
Edited by: Mitch Smolek
Be sure to check us out on iTunes!
(02/22/17 1:31am)
Lana Del Rey has released her latest music video for the single “Love,” the first from her unreleased fifth studio album slated to be released later this year. The video itself centers around a typical tale of romance set in Del Rey’s trademark “West-Coast” setting until the pair of lovers ride off into space, vintage car and all.
(02/20/17 9:28pm)
The Deadbeat Club returns to talk Camera Obscura’s 2009 album My Maudlin Career.
(02/17/17 8:05pm)
https://soundcloud.com/user-519363288/remixed-s1e25-the-grammys-in-review
We talk about the monumental event that was The Grammy Awards this year. We breakdown winners, losers, performances, and performers.
Obviously we talk about Beyonce. And Lady Gaga. And Metallica. And Agent Orange. A lot happened.
We live-tweeted the event over at @ByteBSU if you need a catch up on all the incredible happenings this year.
Hosts: Sarah James, Matt Yapp, Dalton Martin
Logo by: Daley Wilhelm
Edited by: Sarah James
Be sure to follow us on iTunes!
(02/15/17 7:33pm)
https://soundcloud.com/user-519363288/the-deadbeat-club-s1e3-my-maudlin-career-camera-obscura
The Deadbeat Club returns to talk Camera Obscura's 2009 album My Maudlin Career.
We talk strings, whether or not they're overused or overdone, the track by track breakdown, similarities of songs, folksy-ness vs country-ness, and much more on the exciting return of The Deadbeat Club!
Hosts: Graham Taylor, Preston Radtke, Ryan Fine
Logo by: Daley Wilhelm
Edited by: Sarah James
Give our iTunes some love.
(02/01/17 2:51am)
https://soundcloud.com/user-519363288/remixed-s1e1
Welcome to Remixed: music news, reviews and remarks. Go to The Deadbeat Club for album reviews, come here for all the latest happening in the music world.
This week we talk Ed Sheeran and his new album, Gorillaz coming back onto scene, Lady Antebellum and modern country, John Mayer, and the fact that Whitesnake and Def Leppard are touring together.
Strap in and give us a listen, there's a lot happening out there in 2017. Which shows will you go to? What albums will be your 2017 favorite?
Listen to our thoughts and feelings on festivals on our premiere episode of Remixed!
Hosts: Sarah James, Matt Yapp, Dalton Martin
Logo by: Daley Wilhelm
Edited by: Sarah James
Be sure to check us out on iTunes!
(01/04/17 11:00am)
by Courtney Tuchman
The first season of Hibike! Euphonium, or Sound! Euphonium in English, is one of the best anime of 2015. This slice-of-life series about a high school concert band is daring, coupled with beautiful animation, and a wonderful score to match. The ending, however, leaves much to be desired. Spoiler alert in case you haven’t seen the first season: the orchestra scores the chance to compete in nationals. Hibike! Euphonium 2 was announced shortly after the first season’s end and is meant to tie up some of the loose ends season one left behind. Kyoto Animation, the studio behind Hibike!, has often had a rocky history with sequel seasons (see any Kyoto Ani sequel besides Clannad After Story). Thus, Hibike! Euphonium 2 steps onto the scene with quite the stigma to overcome.
The story doesn’t hit all the right notes
... she’s the same person as she was at the beginning of season two.
One of the things the first season of Hibike! Euphonium accomplishes is perfectly balancing the drama with the music. The protagonist, Kumiko Oumae, starts as a freshman at Kitauji High School and only reluctantly joins the concert band after her friends pressure her into it. Throughout the season Kumiko experiences interpersonal commotions between her bandmates, denies a few dates, and also combats early morning practices and the pressure of mastering the euphonium. As far as season two is concerned, the drama is frustratingly more important than the music. Oddly most of the drama isn’t even centered around Kumiko. Problems happen to her family or the other orchestra members. It seems as if Kumiko’s just there to react in a classic anime, open-mouthed style to the things that are out of her control. She watches the problems unfold for a shy oboe player, Mizore Yoroizuka. That ends. Then Kumiko witnesses the developing, abusive mother-daughter relationship of a fellow euphonium player, Asuka Tanaka. Then that ends. Next, Kumiko’s sister drops out of college. That ends quickly too. The story arcs follow each other, step after step, with nothing ever really happening to Kumiko herself. Kumiko certainly becomes invested in each of these stories, but she never really faces more challenges of her own. She gets to experience a few new emotions when her sister is concerned, but besides that she’s the same person as she was at the beginning of season two. The journey would be more interesting if the other characters had been built up a bit more in the previous season, but aside from Asuka hardly any of them were granted a line. Therefore it’s a bit of a stretch to become emotionally invested in these people.
Another part of the story that makes no sense this season is how the upperclassmen hide the concert band’s past from the freshmen. In season one, a major part of the story is focused on Kumiko doing some detective work into what happened the year before she joined the orchestra, since there are very few second-year students. We eventually find out they all quit, but we never really find out why. Thankfully season two answers the question, but it takes way too long to find the answer. I would imagine any normal group of teenagers in real life would be glad to spill all of the poor decisions that struck them the previous year so history wouldn’t repeat itself. Hibike! Euphonium 2 thinks the secret is way too important to reveal, and it spends too much of its runtime on upperclassmen avoiding Kumiko.
Despite every flaw the story boasts, Hibike! Euphonium 2 is still worth the watch if you’ve seen the first season since it does a pleasant job of concluding the story. When the show decides to focus on the old side characters, it becomes enjoyable again. Additionally the band performances are always a pleasure. There aren’t as many of them this time around compared to last season, but the few uninterrupted, quiet minutes of stylized animation and band music are a refreshing luxury whenever they grace the screen.
The characters don’t measure up
...even poor Shuichi gets the boot. He has only one or two scenes with Kumiko this entire season, and they’re supposed to be longtime childhood friends.
The cast of characters is a rather large one in Hibike! Euphonium, seeing as it focuses on a massive, high school orchestra with three different conductors. Although a quick glance at season two might leave you wondering: where did all of the characters from the first season go? Haruki Katou and Sapphire Kawashima, a beginner saxophone player and a seasoned contrabass, respectively, are nearly demoted to background characters, which is a shame. Those two girls were a pair of memorable friends and a great support group to Kumiko in the first season. Now they’ve been reduced to one-liners and the sporadic supportive message for Kumiko. They are still heavily featured in the opening and ending, but they often get more screen-time there than in the actual show. In season one those two girls were allowed to develop their own drama with Haruki crushing on Shuichi Tsukamoto, a trombone player, being one of the turning points in the series. Following the path of the girls, even poor Shuichi gets the boot. He has only one or two scenes with Kumiko this entire season, and they’re supposed to be longtime childhood friends. All three of these characters had stories to tell, yet Hibike! Euphonium 2 threw them out the window to make room for the ever-so-important tragedies surrounding the friends of Kumiko’s friends.
I didn’t leave season one craving more information about Asuka’s home life. In fact, I left season one waiting for some further development of the lesbian relationship between Kumiko and the cold trumpet-player, Reina Kousaka. Their romance is only teased in the first season and never confirmed. Apparently the relationship is headed toward non-existence since the creators of Hibike! Euphonium 2 lost their consistency. The plotline is completely abandoned. You’re trying to tell me that this scene from season one is just implying that they are really good friends? Unacceptable. It’s practically impossible to interpret their relationship in any other way, and yet those at Kyoto Animation changed directions once it was time to add 13 more episodes of elaboration.
Cringingly, Reina spends the entire season crushing on the band’s director, Taki-sensei. This creative decision could be forgivable; perhaps if Reina had mentioned her crush during a previous instance, except it wasn’t declared a single time until season two. Reina is supposed to be the independent musician who decides to be in concert band to become special. Being a trumpeter is what she wants to do for the rest of her life. Now all she wants is to confess to her teacher and instantly loathes anyone who gets in her way. For some reason, the anime doesn’t pass this off as incredibly creepy and weird, either—which it most definitely is. Granted, we do eventually learn why Reina has a crush on the teacher, but the reasoning causes it to become even more nonsensical that these feelings were never brought up during the first season.
Hibike! Euphonium is based off of a light-novel, which is a Japanese-exclusive type of book that targets similar demographics as a YA novel would, so perhaps the creators felt like they couldn’t continue with the Kumiko-Reina relationship in order to stay faithful as an adaptation. Or their well-developed relationship was only intended to be fan service from the start and nothing more. Nevertheless, the abandonment of this plotline doesn’t excuse anything.
Animation is this show’s forte
If there’s one thing Hibike! Euphonium 2 has going for it, it’s the animation. It’s simply an incredible spectacle to behold. The animation never stops being beautiful. Every second, every single frame, is just about flawless. The attention to miniscule detail is astounding. The small motions other studios wouldn’t bother touching are where the animation loves to shine. It demonstrates tiny, unspoken traits for each of the characters or adds to the show’s world building. Walk styles, head tips, hair movement—they all subtly convey thoughts, feelings, and personality. There’s one instance where Taki-sensei is writing something on a chalkboard, and after he takes his hand away, a few chalk particles fall down from the print. The addition is so microscopic you might actually have to zoom in to catch it. Another lovely tidbit happens during a scene when Kumiko is crying on a train. A man in the background slightly turns his head to look at the weeping girl, then averts his attention after a moment. It’s a small element that absolutely didn’t have to be animated, but a stranger turning to look at a sobbing girl on the train would easily happen in real life. There’s also a moment where Kumiko drinks something hot, and she pulls her sleeves up over her hands so she can comfortably grip the can. These details are so tiny you might not even notice them. But when there are so many of them, they add up to be something amazingly large. In the entirety of the Hibike! Euphonium series, there is not one frame in which the animation reaches anything below breathtaking.
The voice acting falls flat
At the start of Hibike! Euphonium 2, I found it interesting that the original voice actress of Kumiko was replaced, since there was no apparent reason for her to be taken off the show. The voice acting in season one is par for the course. The switch sticks out too, since the new actress doesn’t try to emulate the tone of the old one. Much to my extreme surprise upon looking it up, the voice actress hadn’t been replaced after all. Kumiko is still played by the same performer; she just sounds like an entirely different person—and not in a good way. She sounds bored. No matter if Kumiko should be happy, upset, embarrassed, or thankful, all you really hear is someone who’s half-asleep. And it’s not like Kumiko is voiced by a teenager who went through puberty in the last year. The actress is 20 years old. The voice acting turns Kumiko into a shell of her former self. That might not be any fault of the actress’ own—maybe she realized how much more uneventful Kumiko’s life is in this season and adjusted accordingly. But that still doesn’t excuse the slack-jawed, emotionless performance Kumiko’s actress gives each episode.
As far as the rest of the anime’s sound goes, there’s no problem. Much of the score is recycled material from the first season. New tracks are still present, and they are just as lovely to hear as the returning songs.
TL;DR
Hibike! Euphonium 2 is an underwhelming continuation of its first season with the destruction of the balance between music and drama, several plotlines, and character motivations. However, if you’ve viewed the first season, it’s still a story worth watching since the plot is wrapped up rather nicely. The animation is as beautiful as ever too, so season two shouldn’t be a complete waste of your time.
All Images From: Otaku Tale, Anime Zone, Hibike! Euphonium 2, Giphy