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(08/29/17 8:22pm)
by Preston Radtke and Ryan Fine
The release of Brand New’s most recent album was a bittersweet moment. Seemingly out of the blue, the band decided to drop their much anticipated fifth LP last week with very little press. Bitterness came in the form of the band making no bones over the fact that Science Fiction will in fact be the final act for the emo-punk luminaries. However, to make up for that bitterness, the album itself contains enough sweetness to keep dentistry alive and well for centuries to come, until presumably earthlings will have biogenetically programmed teeth that need no cleansing.
Brand New have always moved the emo needle. They were a band that lassoed in angsty high school alternatives with “The Quiet Things that No One Ever Knows”, exposed them to darker, more introspective works like Daisy, and spat them out as multi-faceted listeners ready to take on acts such as Sunny Day Real Estate, Wolf Parade and the eternal Radiohead. As expected, Science Fiction is different and progressive in morose and gloomy manners. Science Fiction definitely fits in with the rest the Brand New catalog, but its depth also goes head-to-head with some of the most complex indie-emo records of all time. Mental health, nuclear Armageddon and aging are all topics on which Jesse Lacey and friends pontificate on this new classic.
Lacey preaches patience
The eight years between this album and the band's previous one, 2009's underrated emotional powerhouse Daisy, were apparently full of thoughtful introspection for Jesse Lacey. One of the most obvious evolutions on Science Fiction comes through in its low-key progressions and stripped back sounds. Yes, there are acoustic ballads, but songs like “Lit Me Up” and “Waste” force listeners to hang on Lacey’s every injection.
Though standard Brand New inflections and choruses can be heard on this record, listeners should also look for the record’s unique beauty in its themes and its resilience. Sound-wise, Science Fiction isn’t a record that is immediate in its appeal. Many listens must be undertaken to uncover the album’s true color. Even "137", which possibly features the most dramatic progression on the record, has a lot of hidden layers that reward listeners for giving it multiple listens and close attention.
Compared to many other bands that are heavily circulated in the indie universe, Brand New holds a special place in fans' hearts not only for their quality, but for their longevity. Especially after their first album, the music of Brand New is impressive for just how powerful it remains even after a decade-and-a-half of listening to it. Returning to the limelight after so much time in the shadows, many of the band's early fans are listening to completely different music than they were back then. The band has once again grown with their listeners, asking us to have the same patience when hearing their new music as we did when we were waiting for it.
A thematic whirlwind
Some of the standout albums from Brand New’s two-decade history, including The Devil and God are Raging Inside of Me and Deja Entendu, found the outfit pedaling in almost cliché emo topics, like heartache, going to college, and friend dynamics. Even some of the greatest anthems from their first two albums, like “Jude Law and a Semester Abroad” and “Sic Transit Gloria...Glory Fades” sometimes turn out to simply be clever takes on relatively adolescent topics under the surface.
This record, on the other hand, features the band dealing with heavier issues. The most consistent theme throughout the record is mental health, specifically self-harm, confidence, and forgiveness. Possibly the record’s supreme moment, “Same Logic/Teeth”, is a stirring, haunting chronicle of the effects of self-harm. The song is a slow-progression piece whereupon Lacey waxes poetic on the problems and relevance of self-harm, and how impactful self-harm can be to people’s loved ones.
“137” details a fictional apocalyptic scenario due to nuclear warfare. Cryptic lyrics allude to man’s impatience and brashness. “137” appears to be one of many warnings that Brand New issues on the record. The band even touches on fundamental Christianity on “Desert.” The track presents a harsh criticism of fundamentalists, juxtaposing real-world statements and actions with the Biblical scripture that Lacey does not think this ideology reaches the standards of.
Experience with a youthful twist
Brand New very easily could have sounded old, crusty and washed up with a new record in 2017. True, men in their forties with kids may not have the same pulse of the scene as they once did. Luckily, though, through expert writing, instrumental work, and artful vocalizations, the band comes across as experienced and advisory, rather than trapping themselves in their old sound, forever dooming them to finish their career as caricatures of themselves.
Fortunately, the brand new Brand New is mature, but not too mature. Songs like “Can’t Get It Out” and “Could Never Be Heaven” feature many early Brand New instrumental tropes and deep-rooted allusions to past band glory. Though there is a lot of wisdom shared on Science Fiction that the Brand New of 2001 may not have had, they still have enough faith in their early work to appease those of us who were just delving into the wide world of music when Deja Entendu was released.
An attempt to please the entirety of the diverse Brand New fanbase would have been futile, and it's true that some Your Favorite Weapon listeners will find this far too self-indulgent to hold any merit for them. But instead of widening their scope too far, the band deliberately zoned in instead, spending several painstaking months in the studio and frequently going back to the drawing board. They even scrapped a few previously released singles to make sure that every part of their grand finale would be up to their standards, and they delivered in nearly every possible way. A treat for both old and new fans of the band, Science Fiction is well worth the many listens it may take to fully absorb its brilliance.
Top tracks:
“Same Logic/Teeth”
“Lit Me Up”
“Waste”
“Could Never Be Heaven”
“137”
Also in the Science Fiction family:
Taking Back Sunday - Where You Want To Be
American Football - American Football
Sunny Day Real Estate - Diary
(08/28/17 5:46pm)
Another year, another VMA. From a show that usually gives us spectacular performances like Britney Spears performing with a giant, live python in 2001 or unexpected moments like Kanye West's infamous Taylor Swift acceptance speech hijacking in 2009, this year's awards show seemed fairly run-of-the-mill in comparison. But as always, some nominees and performers left The Forum with a heap of Moonman awards and others left disappointed and empty-handed.
(08/28/17 5:25pm)
by Ryan Fine
Another year, another VMA. From a show that usually gives us spectacular performances like Britney Spears performing with a giant, live python in 2001 or unexpected moments like Kanye West’s infamous Taylor Swift acceptance speech hijacking in 2009, this year’s awards show seemed fairly run-of-the-mill in comparison. But as always, some nominees and performers left The Forum with a heap of Moonman awards and others left disappointed and empty-handed.
The biggest winner in last night’s categories was the Compton hip-hop juggernaut Kendrick Lamar. He opened the show with a medley featuring two songs from his critically acclaimed new album DAMN., a performance in which a man was literally ignited into flames. His video for the song “HUMBLE.” went on to win a grand total of five awards including Best Hip-Hop Video, Best Visual Effects, and the coveted Video of the Year award. Interestingly, he ended up losing the Artist of the Year award to Ed Sheeran.
The other winner of the night was Taylor Swift, who used the opportunity to premiere the music video for her new single “Look What You Made Me Do”. Despite not actually being at The Forum, she picked up as much attention for the video as she did for the song itself, as it features Taylor Swift as a hybrid zombie snake queen while inviting all of her past personas into the fold. She even ended up nabbing a Best Collaboration award for “I Don’t Wanna Live Forever”, her duet with Zayn Malik for the Fifty Shades Darker soundtrack.
The genre categories also picked up a lot of one-time winners, such as Alessia Cara, Fifth Harmony, and Twenty One Pilots, and P!nk was awarded the Michael Jackson Video Vanguard award for her well-documented music video legacy.
But when one person wins, another must lose. Katy Perry, who hosted the show, did not end up with any awards despite her nomination in five categories. Though her performance of “Swish Swish” was as dramatic as one would expect from her at this point, most of the social media attention went to Taylor Swift, with whom her infamous feud is still ongoing.
Lorde sits somewhere in the middle of conquest and failure. In spite of a pestering flu, she performed “Homemade Dynamite” from her summer hit album Melodrama, powering through the song with understandable awkwardness. On a night that tended to be politically charged and angry, minor triumphs like this one ended up being highly charming, and although the raw excitement was toned down, there were a number of nice moments that shone through the fog.
Sources: Video Music Awards
Image: Lokál
(08/27/17 8:00am)
by Sarah James
It is the era of the diss track, and Taylor Swift, who is no stranger to writing a song about every event that’s ever happened to her, has joined in on the fun with her newest single “Look What You Made Me Do.” This song is the lead single from her upcoming album Reputation, and the music video for the song will be released during the 2017 MTV Music Video Awards later tonight at 9:00 p.m. Eastern Standard Time. Taylor Swift has dominated the VMAs over the past several years, so this music video announcement comes as no surprise.
Which brings us to the song itself. “Look What You Made Me Do” bids farewell to the old country-gone-pop queen and opens the door to new Taylor (who is emo now?). The song starts off promising with its orchestral introduction, beat-driven verse, and angsty lyrics; it’s almost reminiscent of an old school Panic! at the Disco song. The verses tell the story of a Taylor Swift who’s tired of playing games with people in the industry, which builds into a piano driven pre-chorus where Taylor stands her ground, saying she’s gotten smarter and stronger through the years. And then we reach the chorus. The chorus loses all momentum, and all we’re left with is a simple beat underneath Taylor speaking the repeated lyric of “look what you made me do.” It’s jarring, doesn’t sound great, and is honestly disappointing. The chorus is supposed to be the strongest and catchiest part of any song, and Taylor Swift has a record of doing exactly that. Yet, “Look What You Made Me Do” takes a potentially good track that marks another genre shift for Taylor and drops the ball due to its lackluster chorus.
There’s no telling exactly who this song is about. People have theorized it’s a clap back at Katy Perry’s diss track “Swish Swish,” which is speculated to be about Taylor Swift. Or it could be about Kim Kardashian and Kanye West, who have had issues with Taylor for years. Or it could even be about her recent sexual assault lawsuit. Either way, this song is about Taylor taking control of herself and saying that she won’t put up with this anymore. However, the songs lacks the punch that similar songs by other artists utilize (think “Sorry Not Sorry” by Demi Lovato) and honestly falls short as a lead single. That being said, it is interesting to hear another different sound from the singer-songwriter, and with Reputation set to come out this November, time will tell if this new sound is here to stay. Because the old Taylor is dead anyways; who’s to say the new Taylor can’t be emo?
All images from Billboard
(08/17/17 9:41pm)
The All-American Rejects and Dashboard Confessional performed on the Chevrolet Silverado Free Stage at the Indiana State Fair on Aug. 16. The show was free for everyone who purchased a ticket into the fair.
(08/11/17 6:41pm)
by Jeremy Rogers
“August 11 is going to be a #BitOfADay... for a few reasons.” So was the message from the official Hamilton social media team this past Tuesday. After fans have been waiting for some news about what special thing was happening on August 11, Hamilton the Official App was finally announced and released for free on Android and iOS.
The app description claims it facilitates “Fans’ access to all things Hamilton: An American Musical.” Key features of the app include a ticket lottery, Stickers to share on social media, the “#HamCam” which offers Hamilton-specific filters, news updates about the show, and a store from which fans may purchase official merchandise.
Though the App is sitting pretty with a 4.9 out of five stars on the Google Play Store, the announcement was met with more mixed reactions from fans expecting the release of the long awaited original cast video recording.
The original announcement said that there may be more than one reason for today to be a “#BitOfADay”, so maybe more announcements are on the way. One thing the Hamilton team should keep in mind though? The Internet has its eyes on you.
Source: Facebook, Google Play Store
Images: Facebook, The Wine-Dark Sea
(08/02/17 1:10pm)
by Ryan Fine
In the now-ancient year of 2004, Arcade Fire released their undisputed masterpiece Funeral, the debut album that arguably reignited the importance of indie pop music for the new millennium. Made popular by its brilliant slow-burning melodies, poetic storytelling, and of course the wordless inspirational chorus of “Wake Up”, countless popular bands like Wolf Parade, Of Monsters and Men, Fun, Vampire Weekend, and Florence + the Machine may never have reached their current levels of success without the influence of this album.
For a band that started out with such a celebrated release, it would be nearly impossible for them to keep the same standard for their entire career. But despite never making another Funeral, Arcade Fire’s next three albums were all unique and wonderful in their own right, and that fact alone heightens the disappointment of the band's unremarkable new album Everything Now. Fully embracing the disco influence that their previous album Reflektor had hinted at, Everything Now has some moments worthy of the Arcade Fire discography. But sadly the album does not stop there, and many of the other tracks range from forgettable to just plain bad.
Poe’s Law in action
The press rollout for Everything Now has easily been one of the most bizarre spectacles to watch in the music world this year. From the creation of a fake Billboard article claiming that the band was suing for the rights to the “Millennial whoop” to an ad which hilariously spins quotes from an insulting Stereogum article to make them look like compliments, it was often difficult to discern Arcade Fire’s true message from their trollish social commentary.
This entertaining advertisement tactic began around the same time that Arcade Fire unveiled the first single from this album, the titular ABBA-esque jam “Everything Now”. This isn’t a terrible song, but it comes packed with a little bit of irony. For a band that suddenly seems to be so concerned with pointing out the absurdity of commercialism in the music industry, this sure does sound like the most radio-ready song they’ve ever released. From the catchy piano hook all the way down to the “na na na” bridge, it truly contains just about every pop music trope imaginable.
Going in a more pop-oriented direction isn’t inherently a problem, but instead of owning up to it, they seem to be trying to convince their audience that it’s part of the joke. This is the only way I can justify “Chemistry”, the first true dud of Arcade Fire’s career. The band who once put colorful poetry to music in songs like “Crown of Love” and “In the Backseat” is now writing inexcusable lines like “You and me, we got chemistry / Baby you and me”. This is not even to mention the odd polka groove at the beginning of the song, which is entirely out of place and drags the entire thing from just okay down to trainwreck status.
Even if these abhorrent lyrical efforts are in fact “part of the joke”, that doesn’t actually make them any better. The band dabbled in parody on their previous album with “Normal Person”, which managed to effectively criticize “born in the wrong generation” rock music culture while also being a really fun rock song. So now that their aim is to satirize pop music, there’s no reason they shouldn’t be able to write great pop songs to support it.
Disco fever
Where songwriting and lyricism fail to bring the band’s intentions to the spotlight, the production ensures that at least it sounds good in the process. A handful of experienced producers were involved in crafting the sound of Everything Now, including members of Portishead, Pulp, and Daft Punk. Also lending a hand was Markus Dravs, who was behind the board for Arcade Fire’s Grammy Album of the Year-winning opus The Suburbs back in 2010.
This situation could easily have amounted to too many cooks in the kitchen, but as demonstrated by their famously huge membership roster (sometimes in the double digits of touring members), Arcade Fire has never really believed in that philosophy. As expected, each producer’s sound is apparent in different parts of Everything Now, but the album also sounds fluid and unified as a whole under its disco-dominated soundscape.
Disco music is certainly not foreign to Arcade Fire. On Reflektor they worked partially with James Murphy (ringleader of LCD Soundsystem and master of indie disco) for percussion and production, and they had been writing songs like “Sprawl II” since before even then. But all of the singles from Everything Now are reminiscent of the genre to an extent never before heard from this band. It is as apparent in highlights like “Signs of Life” and “Electric Blue” as it is in the lesser songs on the tracklist. It’s definitely a far cry from Neon Bible, but a decade has passed since then, and there are some spots on this album where they really do their new sound justice.
Diamonds in the rough
If there is hope for the future of Arcade Fire, it is certainly not to be found anywhere between the fifth and eighth tracks of this album. After the sunny pop banger “Creature Comfort” comes “Peter Pan”, which is probably the least noteworthy song on the record. It’s not great, it’s not terrible; it’s just kind of a watered-down version of “Flashbulb Eyes” (which was by no means a highlight of Reflektor). This is followed by the appalling trash fire that is “Chemistry”, which is trailed by the two halves of “Infinite Content”.
This song, which is for some reason split into two tracks, does not save the flow of the album in any way. It begins as a monotonous pseudo-punk song, then abruptly transforms into a confusing, bluegrass-inspired mess between tracks. The band was bold enough to name their worldwide tour for this album the Infinite Content Tour, but if this was supposed to be one of the better tracks, it really is difficult to tell what the band was going for.
Thankfully, the bookends of this album save it from being a complete disaster. That's not to take into account the unnecessary reprise tracks of “Everything Now”, but rather the bouncy, fun tracks near the beginning and the more sophisticated cuts near the end. “Signs of Life” is the best-structured pure disco song on the record, building intensity through simple lyricism and Murphy-esque repetition. “Electric Blue”, the only song to feature Régine Chassagne on vocals, mixes softer disco influence with something a bit more foggy and nostalgic, and in its strange atmosphere it ends up being a clear gem of the record.
The album ends on a strong streak with the darker tunes “Put Your Money on Me” and “We Don’t Deserve Love”. The former falls somewhere between Eurythmics and New Order in mood, trudging along in murkiness but gradually clearing away the mud as the song builds. The latter is quieter and more rhythm-driven, pointing slightly back in the direction of The Suburbs without sacrificing the dance vibes of the previous eleven tracks. With tracks like these scattered throughout Everything Now, it’s clear that Butler and Chassagne are still capable of teaming up to make great music, so while disappointing, this album does not eradicate all cautious optimism. With any luck, it’ll all get better from here.
Top tracks:
“Electric Blue”
“Put Your Money on Me”
“We Don’t Deserve Love”
Recommended if you like:
The Killers
ABBA
Passion Pit
(07/28/17 12:37am)
by Preston Radtke
“Pumped Up Kicks.” It seems that mammoth bubblegum rock release of yesteryear has become a curse that Foster the People is wishing to exorcise. Torches, the band’s initial full-length release in 2011, was dotted with carefree indie numbers with danceable, benevolent beats. The album has sold literally millions of copies and received praise from Paul McCartney and other luminaries in the mainstream rock canon. Then Supermodel happened, a slightly similar package to Torches but with less rhythm and more storytelling. Though the 2014 release didn’t garner as much immediate success, critics were pleased with the implied direction and songwriting of the group.
Which brings us to Sacred Hearts Club. To put it bluntly, Sacred Hearts Club is what happens when you only pay attention to the EDM fans who loved the beats found on Torches and paid no mind to song structure or writing. If you like overdone, corny beats, annoying synths, and amateurish vocals, this record is for you. If you want to hear the same song twelve consecutive times, this record is for you. If you enjoy listening to a blend of well-measured guitar and percussion bars, smooth vocal deliveries and varied yet applicable themes, this record, unfortunately, is not for you.
The apple doesn't even fall from the tree
So here’s how song structures work on Sacred Hearts Club: electronic intro with hip-hop beat, echo-y, repetitive rolling vocals by Mark Foster, and a rising chorus featuring hypnotic electronics and heavily punctuated vocals. Repeat this twice more plus a bridge that’s basically the chorus with alternate instrumentation, and there you have it. Then multiply by 11 to make a full album worth of songs. It would have been nice to see more elaborate and adventurous songs off this record. The band’s first and second albums allowed Foster to carve out a niche and perfect their song archetypes. Longer songs, more complex choruses and expansive verse structures would have been an effective direction for the outfit. But instead they picked one style and beat it to death multiple times to stubbornly unvarying lengths.
Honestly though, the issue isn’t exactly that this style gets done over, and over, and over again; it’s just that the presentation of this style is so poor, and the band isn’t aware enough to try something different. For instance the introductions almost always feature an extremely obnoxious and over-the-top synthetic part (see “Loyal Like Sid and Nancy”) that assaults the ears more than inspires the revelry. It’s so obvious that Foster the People was trying to make a record for the EDM crowd that they committed synth overkill. We get it; you want to be played at a massive club with stretch limos out front. But maybe after the eighth song you could at least add a little in the way of dynamics.
Foster’s vocals are also incredibly predictable. Gone are the days of slight vocal experimentation and frankly, any ounce of vocal life. His vocals on this album are delivered so blandly and disinterestedly as to be a highly unfortunate foil to the dramatic synths.
Is this the new normal?
Forecasting what could come next for Foster the People is an extremely grim affair. The songwriting, delivery, and deficiency of personality paint a solemn picture of what the band may do next. Both Torches and Supermodel had a lot of promise. Standout songs like “Broken Jaw”, “Best Friend”, and yes, “Pumped Up Kicks”, alluded to a band who could become a giant in the indie, dance, and pop genres. Back then they had perfectly toed the line of rhythm and accessibility. Now though, they are one-dimensionally rhythmic with virtually none of the positives from past material.
On the other hand, with some experimentation and refining, Foster the People could reshape themselves in the future. They’re going to need to scale back and more astutely craft beats and rhythms, and vocalizations from Mark Foster will need to be cut down. Some sampling and maybe even guest appearances could also provide more interesting shades for the band. Sadly though, there’s almost nothing that the band could positively build from Sacred Hearts Club.
The meaning: Maybe I'm just not getting it...
Probably the most effective inclusion on this record are song titles. Titles like “Loyal Like Sid and Nancy” and “Static Space Lover” are as evocative as they are alluring. However, these songs and many others off this record lack any sort of personality or story arc. “Loyal Like Sid and Nancy” instrumentally feels like a hard-cutting dance experience with little linking it to the musical Sid and Nancy pairing to which the title almost certainly alludes. “Static Space Lover” seems to be about some acquaintance or daunting relationship. But Foster’s vocals are so vague and elementary that the only other parable we can look to for understanding is the instrumentation, and again, all we have is a hopelessly generic blend of percussion and synthetics. Foster’s lyrics are obviously written more to prop up the instrumentals, but in that light the personality and context of these songs is miserably hard to discern.
Don’t fool yourself; Foster the People has never been a band to stand on any soapbox to deliver political or social commentaries with their music. Nonetheless, previous songs like “Are You What You Want to Be” and “Helena Beat” gave just enough assumed context and personification for listeners to feel a greater connection to the band. Sacred Hearts Club is impersonal and generic. That ever-present rhythm and bass shrouds any semblance of personality or concept for the record.
All images from Genius
(07/21/17 3:46pm)
by Preston Radtke
The recent fad of indie giants releasing new records after moderately long hiatuses has now come to impact Toronto. This time the band in question is Broken Social Scene with the new album Hug of Thunder; the project’s first studio release in seven years. Hug of Thunder is both BSS at their pure essence and the dismaying reality of a departure. Both top-heavy and marauding, overall Hug of Thunder is a mixed bag of mixed bags.
A team effort
A truly remarkable aspect of BSS’s career is just how marvelously they’re able to juggle at times more than ten different musicians on a single album and still maintain cohesiveness and uniformity. Both Forgiveness Rock Record and their self-titled LP feature upwards of a dozen different musicians playing or singing on different tracks while still keeping a consistent aesthetic and sound. Hug of Thunder is much the same. The performances, both vocal and instrumental, blend together to forge a definable album color and highlight strengths of the performers themselves.
On the heels of her own new record, Leslie Feist’s performance on this record is a retro reminder of how one shouldn’t pigeonhole the songstress in to the acoustic-led cabin. “Hug of Thunder” is the Feist showcase on this record, where we see her experimenting with new textures, inflections and backing instrumentation. The resulting sound paints the picture of the resilient nature of Broken Social Scene, and just how dynamic Feist can be.
The ever-present guidance of Kevin Drew, one of the original members of the project, has also not waivered. His writing and song structure is all over this record. “Venity Pail Kids” and “Protest Song” are the most complex creations off this record, and both remind the audience just how prolific Drew is at tapping in to subtle, somber themes and subjects. Nearly two decades on, Drew’s voice still has that token minimalist, no-nonsense flavor he perfected in the early 2000s.
Of course, it wouldn’t be Broken Social Scene without a prominent new member. Ariel Engle, a touring member since pre-hiatus 2010, was brought in as a studio member of the outfit for Hug of Thunder. Engle brings Feist-ian and Haines-ian aesthetics and style to the band, plus some never-before realized grit and street smarts. Be sure to check-out “Skyline” to find Engle at her absolute apex.
The past is past
Broken Social Scene is a rock band. Excluding their first record, Feel Good Lost, all of their records settle comfortably in the left-of-center rock genre. With these previous releases have come escapes to ambient, baroque pop, and electronic genres. The blend of rock and these tangent genres has produced one of the more unique and tasteful catalogues in recent memory. Unfortunately, Hug of Thunder feels almost exclusively like an alternative record. Kevin Drew’s fingerprints are indeed all over this record, but his experience with ambient and electronica seems to have missed it. The majority of songs are blatantly guitar and vocally driven. The amount of layering and textures is either distorted or overshadowed by traditional rock instrumentation. Sadly, the only songs that hint at retro BSS synthetics are the prelude “Sol Luna” and the late cut “Victim Lover.”
The electronic experimentation on landmark albums You Forgot It in People and their self-titled release is the one thing that defines this band. Without that, BSS simply feels like a variety show of different indie singers. Without that experimentation, Broken Social Scene lacks an identity and personality.
Reznor would be proud of this downward spiral...
There is no flowery way to say this: the last five tracks on Hug of Thunder are bland compared to the first seven. Emotionally speaking, songs like “Halfway Home” and “Stay Happy” touch the listener on a very personal, relatable level. While they are both rock songs at their core, the writing and vocal performance on these tracks allow the listener to feel one with the music. “Halfway Home” is the song to cheer you up, and “Stay Happy” is the one to make you think.
Unfortunately, the second half of the record lacks accessibility. Vocals are delivered rather blandly and with a lack of punch. “Towers and Masons” seems to be about some sort of childhood experience or memory, but the delivery is just so lifeless and forgettable that the message doesn’t really land. “Victim Lover”, a song about someone who has been wronged in a relationship, should be one of the most heart-wrenching tracks on the album. But the writing is overly simplistic and generic, and again, the vocals are delivered with no emotion. While there is a lot to love about the early tracks, the instrumentation of the final act isn’t dynamic or cutting-edge enough to carry the momentum through to the end.
Top tracks:
“Halfway Home”
“Protest Song”
“Skyline”
“Stay Happy”
“Hug of Thunder”
Also in the Hug of Thunder family:
The New Pornographers: Mass Romantic
Yo La Tengo: I Can Feel the Heart Beating as One
Wolf Parade: Apologies to the Queen Mary
All images from Spin
(07/13/17 10:00am)
by Preston Radtke
St. Vincent is back! Such was a thrilling sentiment for many an indie and chamber pop junkie on the morning of June 30, 2017. This sweeping euphoria stemmed from “New York”, St. Vincent’s first single off of her upcoming album rumored to be out in late summer or fall. In interviews Annie Clark – the woman behind St. Vincent – promised a rather noticeable style change on the new record, and those changes are starkly apparent on “New York.” It is still very St. Vincent, but there are in fact certain colors present with which Ms. Clark has never before painted.
St. Vincent deserves praise for the content and meaning of this song. True, it is an oft overdone subject—losing a loved one and waxing nostalgic—but few modern pop or indie tracks today feature quite as much emotion as Clark infuses into this track. Strains, inflections, and vocal tempo all mold perfectly to paint the picture of a near Miss Havisham persona. Clark beautifully paints the picture of their former relationship, and what her life will now be. She mentions old haunts in which they used to spook, her desire to change in a more drastic manner to save herself, and she even bemoans the loss of a close somebody who appeared to be the final remnant of a fragmented and separated friend group.
Stylistically though, this track kind of disappoints. Frankly, the delivery and structure work fine, except for the chorus and song length. The song’s build is very vintage St. Vincent, and very well executed. Unfortunately though, the chorus lacks dynamics and screams pop music. This radio-friendly chorus consists of the repeated lines “I have lost a hero, I have lost a friend.” This phrase, draped in hypnotic repetition, is sung so plainly as to almost be boring. The rest of the song is seriously beautiful: Clark’s voice, the piano, the content. But the chorus really drags it down. Clark could have harmonized or inflected a bit differently for each chorus. It’s apparent that the emotion is supposed to carry this song, and in most ways it does, but the heartstrings being pulled can only distract for so long.
The song is also oddly short. At around two-and-a-half minutes it is in fact on the quicker side of St. Vincent’s catalog, but it is also the structure of the song that makes it feel fast. The chorus takes a while to arrive, which results in a track that, bizarre as it is, doesn’t seem to have any sort of resolution or climax. There is no bridge, no grandiose progression, none of the classic climactic indicators. The song just kind of ends rather suddenly. Maybe to symbolize how suddenly this relationship ended?
The lyrics off “New York” are surprisingly predictable and cliché for someone of Clark’s creativity. Referring back to the chorus, the line “I have lost a hero, I have lost a friend” is one of the most predictable and obvious lyrical inclusions possible for a chorus. Unfortunately the lyrical subtlety and wit found on standout albums like Actor and St. Vincent don’t seem to be present on “New York.”
All images from Genius
(06/30/17 5:54pm)
by Preston Radtke
Hype is an interesting thing in the independent music world. Local grassroots hype for an underground band usually takes such forms as friends boisterously proclaiming this band to be the next Strokes or My Morning Jacket or Yeah Yeah Yeahs. So often in the indie music world does the hype nearly ruin a band's work before it is even released, the idea of what they might become overtaking the fact that, as of yet, they only have an EP and a collection of well-placed shows.
The newest attendee to the indie hype parade is the Brooklyn-based garage/dream pop/punk squadron known as Cende. Cende is the perfect natural creation of an indie band: they’re from Brooklyn; they all live in the same house; they’re currently opening for Japanese Breakfast and (Sandy) Alex G; and they even roped in indie favorite Greta Kline to feature on one of their lead singles. Despite the hype and the band’s near-cliché composition #1 Hit Single, the band’s maiden full-length release is a quick yet satisfactory record nearly as obvious as their Brooklyn upbringing. At only 22 minutes, Cende packs elements of garage rock, punk rock, and even facets of dream pop to a saga of sound that on its own may seem un-noteworthy, but in context provides an exciting glimpse into what Cende can become.
Songs: Closing the garage door and staring at Converse
#1 Hit Single is varied and diverse in such a specific way that it feels as if the album is more a display of how many different genres Cende can spill into without coming across as disrespectful or unlistenable. Tracks like “Voids”, “Erase the Line”, and “While I’m Alive” are all classic-sounding, guitar-driven garage rock with just the right amount of weathered effects. Though these tracks sound amateurish and slightly sophomoric, the lyrical content is not. All three of the tracks deal with relationships in New York City and how to survive socially in such a metropolis. Meanwhile, “Out of City” and “Don’t Want To” are fast-paced, Descendents-esque punk rock sprints that feature aggressive guitar loops, slightly cacophonous choruses, and punctuated drum sections. These two tracks were more along the lines of what many people thought Cende would be like, and maybe they will go in this direction in the future. But for now, they only give us two fleeting glimpses to their punk side.
The most bizarre and surprising submission by Cende were the tracks “Bed” and “Moment Too Late.” Still holding on to garage and indie constructs, the works are surprisingly dreamy and effect-filled. Furthermore, the guitars seem to blend together, making it very difficult to distinguish bass from lead. It’s not too much of a stretch to say that both tracks actually smell of shoegaze. This is a very ambitious attempt; the shoegaze genre has been rather bereft of new artists lately, and quite honestly these two tracks seemed more like experiments rather than indicators. Nonetheless, Cende deserves credit for attempting a genre in which would have expected them to dip their toes. If they do want to pursue shoegaze, the songwriting and vocal performance by Cameron Wisch is going to have to improve significantly. The vocals are too rough and punctuated for traditional shoegaze despite the noticeable scale back compared to their other songs. Furthermore, the drums are still too present, at times overshadowing the guitars and giving the piece too much punch.
“What I Want” is a near perfect summation of Cende’s work on this album. Featuring Greta Kline of Frankie Cosmos, the track is nearly 5 minutes, by far the longest song on the album. Both Cende and Kline put out beautiful harmonies and vocal interplays that give the song an almost heavenly sound. The beginning of the track sounds very indie pop with both singers taking turns on the first and second verses. From the bridge to the final chorus, the song wanders and actually features elements of noise rock and industrial rock, which is a perfect foil to the more linear sound in the beginning of the song. Both vocalists make a return at the end, this time singing in perfect tandem to guide the track to its conclusion via the same harmony and chorus from the beginning.
Room for structural improvement
At only 8 songs, the album doesn’t have much room for error regarding song layout. However, Cende really self-concussed themselves by placing the shoegazey “Bed” as the first song on the album. Along with a less-than-stellar instrumental open, the song lacks the energy and attitude that the album on the whole seems to promote. It’s too dreary and misplaced at the beginning of the album; the song would have been better placed later on, between the slightly contrasted “Erase the Line” and “While I’m Alive.” The perfect opener on the album would have been “What I Want”. The song’s tempo, aesthetic, and diverse journey lend itself more to an all-encompassing opener.
Meanwhile “Out of City”, the fourth track on the album, is placed horribly awkwardly after “What I Want” and before “Moment Too Late.” At 53 seconds, the song feels like both a bridge and an intermission between two heavy and different songs. However, the fourth song seems too early to have a track that brings minimal constructs to the table. The song would have operated better if it was closer to the end, or quite frankly if it wasn’t there at all, as it really adds the least of all of this album’s tracks.
The future is bright in Brooklyn
The blending of several genres beneath an indie rock cap yields an exciting future for Cende. The guitar work found on many of the album’s tracks makes one think that they are ready to produce Strokes-esque guitar ballads, while the harmonies specifically found on “What I Want” could find the band even crossing over into mainstream rock. Though the shoegaze element was a nice surprise, that isn’t necessarily a direction that the band should follow too religiously. Not that they wouldn’t find success in it, but they are already so prepared and polished in the indie vocation.
Unfortunately, this album is so short that the audience still needs to see more to truly ascribe definite feelings toward the band. On the bright side though, more music seems to be an imminent possibility considering the band’s recent aggressive track record of releases. Additionally, their touring with (Sandy) Alex G may allow them to get more experience and even borrow some of his folk influences.
Top tracks:
“What I Want (featuring Greta Kline)"
“Don’t Want To”
“Erase the Line”
Also in the #1 Hit Single family:
DIIV: Oshin
Preoccupations: Viet Cong
Teen Suicide: Bad Vibes Forever
All images from Bandcamp
(06/22/17 9:11pm)
by Ryan Fine
A follow-up to Lorde’s Pure Heroine has been one of the most widely anticipated pop records worldwide for the last couple years, and understandably so. While clumsy at certain points (“You buy me orange juice”), Ella Yelich-O’Connor’s first album as Lorde showed an incredible amount of promise for a musician still in her teens. Four years later, she has teamed up with Jack Antonoff of Fun and Bleachers to create an album that is noticeably more straightforward in its pop format. Yet despite its increased structural conformity, Melodrama takes advantage of plenty of conceptual and sonic experimentation in its eleven songs, with the final product adding up to one of the most varied and consistent pop records this side of 2010.
Pop with a dash of salt
A couple of days before the release of this album, when the world thought it had heard everything it needed to whet its appetite, Lorde released one of her strangest singles so far, “Sober”. “Sober” is certainly a dance song, but it is a bit of an off-kilter one. It throws offbeat percussive noise and synth-y brass detail randomly into the mix and dares its listeners to dance to it anyway. Like most of the pop-leaning songs on this album, there's quite a bit of unexpected space debris here to throw off her impersonators, or better yet, to challenge her fans.
Take the closest thing this album has to an epic, the EDM-infused “Hard Feelings/Loveless”. This song is in two parts and six minutes long, which is gargantuan by Lorde’s standards. After the relatively standard first part, the encore seemingly comes out of nowhere and at first feels like a straight-up dance floor instrumental. The vocals come in eventually and feel petty in nature, and the refrain echoes it, saying “Guess you wanna rip my heart out / Guess you wanna skip my calls now / Well guess what? I like that”. With this song, Lorde moves into the anger phase of grief in a way that feels almost poisonous.
There are a few spots where the experimentation doesn’t pay off as much as it could have, namely the two reprise tracks and “The Louvre”. Though the latter contains one of the most interesting soundscapes on the record, it feels like it skips forward when it should be much smoother, and contains the line “They’ll hang us in the Louvre / Down the back, but who cares, still the Louvre”. Whatever she meant by this was probably a nice sentiment, but didn’t quite land on these ears. The sequel tracks, particularly the reprise of “Liability,” could have served as nice interlude tracks, but didn’t add anything necessary to the story arc and ended up feeling a little bit filler-ish.
A painting of many colors
Although I quite enjoyed “Green Light” when it dropped back in March, I lamented that we would have to wait until the release of the album to see if Lorde would expand the current world of pop music to the extent that she did on Pure Heroine. A week later, she proved me wrong with the release of “Liability”, a ballad featuring only vocals and piano. It immediately cemented its place as one of her strongest songs lyrically and one of her more unique songs musically, bearing similarities to the sound of Conor Oberst’s recent solo album Ruminations. Even more surprising is that there are other points on this album where Lorde expands into more unique territory, creating a few moments that sound like no one else on the planet.
The best song on the album, and honestly, easily Lorde’s best song to date, is the hysterical, threatening tearjerker “Writer in the Dark”. This song’s verses trudge along with occasional piano notes and lyrics that detail Lorde looking back on the end of a relationship (one that she is clearly not over). After repeating the line “Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark” several times, the chorus enters in full swing. In this instant, her voice becomes almost ghostly, expertly cutting through her range and lashing out at her former lover as though she is about to cry right there in the recording studio. And that’s not even to mention the line “I’ll love you ‘til you call the cops on me”, which is a magically emotional, freshly heart-skewering moment every time she sings it.
After she finishes throwing bricks at houses, she calms down with the more introspective “Supercut”. She is no longer angry but reflective, replaying the best moments in her mind in a much more peaceful way. She still has regrets, but there is now the feeling that one day the titular melodrama will fade and she will learn from her mistakes. Finally, the infectious closing track “Perfect Places” shows Lorde accepting that life will never be perfect and embracing how screwed-up the world and its inhabitants can really be.
An auditory coming-of-age story
When Beyoncé released her sprawling and diverse forgiveness-via-revenge album Lemonade last year, it was deservedly ranked by many publications as one of the best albums of 2016. That album pulled out all the stops with its massive long-form visual album aspect, but perhaps even more importantly, it paved the way for concept albums to return to the mainstream in a way they hadn’t since the ‘70s.
Melodrama, perhaps coincidentally, follows closely behind Lemonade and solidifies that album-length pop storytelling isn’t just a fad. The issues that Lorde battles on this record are decidedly more juvenile, but that is intentional. She doesn’t try to make herself sound older as a star like Adele might, nor does she make it feel like her woes are less important just because she’s young.
On this album, Lorde seems to be going through a breakup, same as thousands of young people around the world. It’s not a new feeling or anything that hasn’t been written about before. But where countless grown adults would shrug it off and say, “I’ve been there before, you’ll get over it”, Lorde sings with the authority of someone still going through it. Her wounds are still fresh; she knows she will be happy again, but she’s smart enough to realize that in order to return to happiness, first she’s going to need to let out all of her sadness. And that is the true meaning of melodrama.
Top tracks:
“Sober”
“Liability”
“Writer in the Dark”
“Perfect Places”
Recommended if you like:
Charli XCX
Conor Oberst / Bright Eyes
The Naked and Famous
All images from Anyarena
(06/16/17 5:03pm)
by Preston Radtke
WARNING: This review quotes lyrics from the album that contain strong language.
Roger Waters. A name synonymous with hallucinogenic drugs, tyrannical self-absorbed dad rock aficionados, and “concept albums.” The one-time commander of the Pink Floyd mothership at the peak of its majesty, Waters has been putting out solo records since the much-ballyhooed year of 1984. Is This the Life We Really Want?, Waters’ fifth solo release, finds him hiding in classic Floyd atmospherics and supposed depth. Unfortunately, Waters’ Floydian incarnations are so blatant and over-the-top that sadly, the album acts as more of a cliché of a former time. Furthermore, Waters’ voice shows the wear and tear of a beaten-down spaceship, weathered in a sad, nostalgic, yet massively ineffective way. The true saving grace on this collection is Waters’ very applicable lyrics and writing. A record that was written over several years, it does a superb job of capturing the ethos of many a bewildered and indignant world citizen.
A bizarre barrage
Predictably, Waters tried to make his most recent release sound like folk Pink Floyd. Is This the Life We Really Want? contains many of the same spacious, marauding choruses and sample-driven motifs that Waters’ most famous progressive rock band perfected. Unfortunately, the record instrumentally operates like a folk album. There are many piano and acoustic-guitar-driven songs that don’t necessarily mesh well with sampling and heavy effects. At times, the extreme sampling overshadows and takes over Waters’ wilting voice.
Exhibit A is “The Last Refugee”, a slow, melodic folk ballad bemoaning the political treatment of refugees. The beauty of this song results mainly from Waters’ smooth, intricate songwriting and his stripped-back guitar. It is mournfully besmirched, however, with the sneakily obnoxious inclusions of sound cuts and effects of newscasts and radio signals. These implementations do in fact give the song a more international feel, but they also distract from Waters’ vocals and his message overall. Furthermore, the song seems to go about dealing with refugee issues in the wrong manner. Instead of prophesizing on one specific refugee, Waters takes a broader and less relatable approach to painting the picture of “the last refugee.” His character seems to change appearance, style, and upbringing. Presumably, Waters did this to better represent the diversity of the refugee population; instead, the song seems impersonal and faceless.
The dark side of Roger Waters’ voice
It may seem unfair to rip apart a 73-year-old’s voice. A man like Roger Waters surely should be exempt of all vocal ridicule. After all, how can the voice behind Wish You Were Here and The Wall be anything but foreboding and impenetrable? This album, however, features a voice so weathered, shaky, and one-dimensional that no number of effects and implied nostalgia can save it. Truthfully, whenever Waters climbs the vocal ladder, flinches are to be expected.
“Déjà Vu”, though impassioned and relatable, is the saddest display for Waters’ vocal instrument. Throughout the majority of the piece, Waters maintains a low, controlled volume that hides and even promotes its shakiness. Interspersed throughout the song, he attempts to hit the high notes in moments of passionate rage and fervor. These moments provide a severely unstable, horribly wraithlike specter of a once proud voice both dynamic and consistent.
Later tracks off the album also reveal Waters’ unfortunate penchant for singing loudly and high-pitched. Instead of artful, they sound uncontrollable and sloppy. Waters is surely a good enough songwriter to write emboldened pieces without stretching his voice beyond listenability.
Finally, Waters breaks through
The most present and consistent Floydian holdover is the songwriting and themes. Themes on the album deal with media bias, refugee crises, voting rights, and oddly enough, electing leaders that in his mind aren’t deserving or experienced. When he isn’t climbing the vocal ladder, Waters’ songs feature an iambic pentameter-esque rhythm, more reminiscent of poetry and less of folk and prog-rock. Much like previous conquests, Waters vividly paints raw pictures for the audience. “Picture This”, a rough protest track, forces the audience to “Picture Loretto / Picture your feet nailed to the floor / Picture a leader with no fucking brain”, all delivered with a voice so deep and tough that no ear dare turn away.
Top tracks:
“Picture That”
“Smell the Roses”
Also in the Is This the Life We Really Want? Family:
Pink Floyd: The Wall
Emerson, Lake & Palmer: Emerson, Lake & Palmer
Syd Barrett: The Madcap Laughs
All images from Classics Du Jour
(06/16/17 5:03pm)
by Preston Radtke
Something clever should be written here. A quip, a call to action, or maybe a simple statement? Alas no, for there are no words. The perfect balance of syntax, diction and deprecation couldn’t even come within miles of scratching the surface of how unflinchingly beautiful Capacity by Big Thief is. Though the pundits will try, no one can fairly put in to words just how hauntingly sunny the chorus of “Haley” makes one feel, or how nostalgic one gets at hearing “Mythological Beauty”, or at last, just how pure, raw, and moving “Mary” is. Unfortunately though, this is a review, so with apologies to the Queen Adrienne, words must be spilled.
After their critically-acclaimed 2016 album Masterpiece, many people within the music industry expected a would-be honeymoon period for the Brooklyn-based package. Furthermore, when it did come out, their follow-up would surely be pulled from the same stylistic tree as their initial album. Capacity, however, is plodding where Masterpiece is scampering, brooding while Masterpiece celebrates, and stripped-back where Masterpiece is melodically majestic. Much more folk-inspired, Capacity evokes emotions never explored on Masterpiece. The work is truly a modern marvel.
Big Thief matures yet again
Big Thief is everyone’s favorite 4.0 overachiever. Heart-stoppingly mature after their initial release, Capacity found the outfit reaching Jeanie Bueller-implied maturity (minus the snobbishness, self-consciousness, and overall unpleasantness). Masterpiece dealt with topics more tangible and accessible to the everyday world: parties, work, siblings, etc. Capacity is a manifesto touching on unsexual love, family relationships, and the fragility of love with age and time.
Fortunately, the vocal and instrumental performances are so passionate and raw that these heavy topics don’t feel short-changed or used. “Shark Smile” is a Western-inspired chronicle of a forsaken friendship gone awry by neglect and an implied addiction or affliction. “Mary” is the most mournful and tear-jerking track on the album: an expansive document detailing the protagonist’s simple, unwavering love for someone despite the noise and turmoil of the outside world. Instrumentally, the song features a piano and some effects. Adrianne’s voice on the track takes on a small and beaten-down texture that matches perfectly with the song’s overall aesthetic. The writing and song structure is both beautiful and unconventional. “Mary” appears to slowly be leading to a traditional memorable and concise chorus with plenty-a-high-note. Instead, where the chorus should be Lenker hits the audience with a surprisingly ferocious barrage of sincere lyrics nearly tumbling over themselves. Though measured and befitting of the track, this chorus is a perfect manifestation of the protagonist’s amorous feelings spilling out of her overwhelmed person and into the world.
Big Thief offends no one
Stripped-back though it may be, Big Thief applied certain musical allusions and practices often utilized by other more notable musicians. For instance, “Shark Smile” has an almost country sound to it without poking fun at the genre or negating Big thief’s strengths. “Coma” instrumentally, vocally, and atmospherically sounds very similar to acoustic Feist. The track features a simple, present guitar loop popularized off of many of Feist’s post-“1234” releases. Furthermore, Lenker’s voice has the same texture and inflection as the intrepid Leslie Feist. Feist-ian in nature, “Coma” stills feels authentically Big Thief-ian in its simple progression and song concept. Feist shouldn’t feel ripped-off, as Adrianne Lenker makes sure to separate herself with just the right individual vocal octave climbing and quintessential Big Thief hooks.
The most surprising homage is found in the drum section in the very beginning of “Mythological Beauty.” The drum intro, one of the very few on the record, is measured and melodic in a way reminiscent of “Is This It” by the Strokes off of their own near-perfect release. The drum part feels imperfect enough to either be a loose allusion or an accidental writing effect, a coincidence brought about by two of the most visionary bands of their eras.
Vocals: Again, no words
Masterpiece was much more vocally linear and traditional than Capacity. Matching the album’s stripped-back mystique, Lenker’s vocals are usually whispered, mumbled, or simply delivered at that oft-overlooked “inside voice” level that your third grade teacher kept harping on about. “Mary”, “Haley”, and “Mythological Beauty” feature impassioned whispers by Lenker, which highlight the mood of the track while still allowing her to show off her understated dynamicism.
Though her voice often remains within a few steps, it isn’t flat or stagnant; she never stays on the same notes for more than two straight lines. This gives the snail-like tracks some semblance of tempo and rhythm. There are, however, some instances where Lenker’s voice shows off some of the spunk from Masterpiece. “Black Diamonds”, the track that had the unfortunate task of following “Mary”, finds Lenker’s voice in a more traditional, rock-infused space. Of course, Lenker shines in cases of higher notes. It’s important to note just how well these tracks were written vocally for Lenker. There are no instances where her voice seems to wilt or flame out. Capacity is one of those albums where a voice truly did all of the writing.
Top tracks:
“Shark Smile”
“Watering”
“Coma”
“Great White Shark”
“Mythological Beauty”
”Haley”
“Mary"
Also in the Capacity family:
Waxahatchee: Ivy Trip
Diet Cig: Swear I’m Good at This
Girlpool: Before the World was Big
All images from Bandcamp
(06/10/17 5:34pm)
by Sarah James
Music.
For some, music is nothing more than noise, merely something to listen to, or a distraction from getting something done. For others, music is an escape, an expression of one’s thoughts and emotions, and a way to communicate on a level that once seemed impossible. It is these people, the ones who find themselves in the melodies and lyrics constructed by their heroes, that are also the first ones to criticize. When an artist releases new music that may seem a little different than their previous work, it is usually the fans who react with an uproar.
This has been common within music scenes for decades, but the past few months, there have been many artists accused of “selling out,” or conforming to a mainstream sound in order to make money instead of art, and many of these artists come from the alternative or rock scene - the same scene I love to be a part of. All Time Low received criticism a few months ago when they changed labels and released their single, “Dirty Laundry.” Linkin Park was met with outrage when they released “Heavy” back in March. More recently, Fall Out Boy fans were confused and critical after “Young and Menace” dropped, and followers of Paramore cried out for the band to return to their alternative roots after the release of After Laughter. Check the comments of the “Hard Times” music video and you'll see complaint after complaint of wanting the “old Paramore” back. It seems as if the slightest inkling of an alternative artist moving towards pop is only ever met with a negative response.
Why is that? Why do fans get so upset when the artists they love switch up their sound? Does sounding like pop automatically mean an artist is selling out? And what about those artists who are constantly breaking the genre barriers? Does genre as we know it have a future in this ever evolving music industry?
Many people view pop music as an easy way out, especially fans who come from more selective music scenes. Pop music isn't difficult; following the formula to create a hit is fairly simple, and most pop artists don't write their own songs. To many, pop music just isn't as artistic. However, sounding more mainstream is not necessarily a sign of selling out. It all has to do with authenticity; was the artist being true to themselves in creating their music? Or were they the mouthpiece of a corporate machine?
In the case of Fall Out Boy, “Young and Menace” was a chance for the band to play with new recording technology while also utilizing the talent they have as a band. While some may see the voice modulation and heavy drop in the chorus as a sign of selling out, any interview with Patrick Stump and Pete Wentz proves that this song is still genuine, still 100% Fall Out Boy. Hayley Williams has been honest about her struggles as an artist, opening up about how she considered quitting after the release of Paramore’s self-titled album in 2014. Though After Laughter is definitely more pop than rock, a little background and a quick look at the lyrics show that this album is genuine. Yet, that doesn't stop fans from complaining.
It all has to do with authenticity; was the artist being true to themselves in creating their music? Or were they the mouthpiece of a corporate machine?Maybe this is because we immerse ourselves so fully into music. When we find an artist that speaks to us and then they change, it feels as if we lose parts of ourselves. Personally, I place a lot of who I am as an individual in the artists I love. My friends know me as the girl who loves Twenty One Pilots, and large chunks of my identity reside in the fact that I am part of the Clique.
When an artist drastically changes, fans are quite suddenly left feeling as if they've been abandoned. I would be lying if I said I haven't been critical of artists I love. When Fall Out Boy returned from their hiatus in 2011, all I wanted was to have the old Fall Out Boy back. Yet, over time, I have come to appreciate each era of music this band has offered, and I look forward to the next era of Fall Out Boy with the release of MANIA this fall.
More and more, we see artists branch out of a genre they had previously ascribed to, only to be met with questions and ridicule. More musicians are taking inspirations from genres of music outside of their own. However, genre in music as we know it is constantly changing. As previously mentioned, I am a huge fan of Twenty One Pilots, a band who has rose to notoriety by creating music influenced by a variety of genres. While they're mostly classified as pop, rock, or alternative, there are heavy electronic, folk, and even reggae vibes to their songs. Maybe this breaking of genre barriers is even more authentic than staying in the lines that radio stations and award shows have drawn for musicians. Maybe artists branching out is actually a means of expression, and not an act of selling out. Maybe, just maybe, the artists we love create music they want to listen to, and all they ever want is for us to listen to it too.
(05/24/17 11:00am)
by Preston Radtke
To speak frankly, the latest release from Los Angeles-based Girlpool is not a bad album. The twenty-nine minute sit-in contains very few critically offensive or disrespectful structures. Instead, Powerplant can best be described as depersonalized, disappointing, and possibly bland. It seems like just last week that Before the World Was Big, their landmark 2015 release was making waves in the indie hemisphere. Sadly though, the duel vocals and Kimya Dawson-esque spunk found on that release don’t seem to have translated to their latest incarnation.
Mood: More angst, less quirk
Powerplant finds Girlpool ditching their previous fun, lighthearted façade for a more moody and emo-leaning temperament. The decreased quirk shattered the odd, yet effective juxtaposed construct found on their previous releases. On their self-titled EP, and on Before the World Was Big, Girlpool harmonized on such topics as women in punk rock, gender equality, and lesbian relationships. All of these heavy subjects were delivered with a mix of upbeat guitar lines, relatively aggressive vocals, and tongue-in-cheek lyrics. For a prime example of this past splendor, please give a listen to “Before the World Was Big” off of the album of the same name.
This album features much more slowed-down tempos, guttural sounding percussives, and vocals that are progressive, yet painfully meticulous in their journey to the vocal climax. Girlpool still attempts to focus on heavy topics however, except their message comes across as predictable and run-of-the-mill. On previous releases, Girlpool would catch listeners off guard with their sunny demeanor juxtaposed with their melodramatic topics. This album is almost too obvious in its attempt to be understood as a deep, meaningful experience. The song “Fast Dust” is the moodiest and dreariest-sounding cut off the entire album. A track seemingly about a troubled lost friend, the song hints at mental health and a lack of identity. Normally, the morose demeanor of this track would fit such forlorn subjects. The problem is, Girlpool still has a very DIY amateur sound about them that sounds odd and confusing when dealing with heavy topics.
Percussion: You don't need drums to have a band
Girlpool decided to add more punch and tempo to their music by installing friend Miles Wintner as their drummer. Odd as it may seem, their music actually had more rhythm on their previous releases when they had no drummer. One of the truly marvelous results from Before the World Was Big was the duo’s ability to create songs with accessible and efficient beats with no one on drums. The tempo was created completely through vocals and guitars. On Powerplant, the drums in fact add context and personality, but they also overshadow and distort the vocal performances of Cleo Tucker and Harmony Tividad. In some cases, the distortion is done on purpose, like on the opening track “123”, but on other songs like “Sleepless” and “Powerplant”, the vocals are nearly impossible to discern and interpret. Simply put, Tucker and Tividad’s voices are both too gentle and soloistic to have a drummer backing them.
Vocals: Tucker and Tividad in near-perfect harmony
The vocals on this track are a work of folk, punk and lo-fi excellence. Vocalists Cleo Tucker and Harmony Tividad sing beautifully in-tune with each other to form the album’s moods and personality. Cleo and Harmony cling to each other, never singing without the other. They are always singing the same notes, usually at the same pitch. The result is a more serious and high pitched Kimya Dawson. “123” is the duo’s vocal zenith, a track where Cleo and Harmony match each other’s pitch while navigating the vocal gauntlet; from whispers to screams. Speaking of those whispers and screams, the whispers are much more plentiful on this record. The pair’s whispered vocals, like on “Your Heart”, are beautiful occurrences that touch the listeners and allow them to connect with both the music and the pair of vocalists. However, those screams are effective in their own way; in a majestic, angry, and slightly riot grrrl type of way. Again, look to “123.” The screamed vocals provide just the right amount of grit and protest to songs that could come across as too proletariat.
The only issue with the vocals on this album is the lack of solos. Girlpool and Before the World Was Big contained many instances of Cleo and Harmony singing counteractive vocals that nearly made the listener choose sides. In some cases, their dual vocality was as pleasant sounding and as innovative as The Hot Rock by Sleater-Kinney.
Best tracks:
“123”
“Corner Store”
“She Goes By”
Also in the Powerplant family:
Diet Cig: Swear I’m Good At This
Frankie Cosmos: Next Thing
Angel Olsen: My Woman
All images from Bandcamp
(05/23/17 7:00pm)
by Sarah James
After four years, Paramore has returned with their fifth studio album, After Laughter. This synth-driven retro album leans heavily on the pop side of music, and is a departure from the guitar-laced alternative rock of Paramore’s past. However, this album is still authentically Paramore, and details frontwoman Hayley Williams’ struggles with maintaining the band.
The two singles released for the album, “Hard Times” and “Told You So” set the tone for this genre-shifting album. Both songs sound straight from the late 80s, full of bass and synth in a way that's sure to make you dance. Many other songs on the album stick to this sound, such as “Pool” and “Rose Colored Boy.” However, what separates these songs from other synthetic pop music on today's market are the lyrics. Each song is a window into Hayley Williams and her struggles with keeping this band together. She opens up about how she’s been feigning a smile in “Fake Happy,” and in “Caught in the Middle”, she talks about her regrets from the past as well as apprehensions of the future.
Mixed in with the funk are two stunning acoustic ballads: “Forgiveness” and “26.” When first listening through the album, they seem a little out of place. They are simplistic and showcase the brilliance of Hayley Williams’s vocals. “Forgiveness” is heartfelt and sentimental, and the pseudo-country ballad “26” sounds like something off an early Taylor Swift album. Paramore has done ballads before (“The Only Exception” off of Brand New Eyes comes to mind), yet these two most recent ballads have an extra layer of depth and maturity to them. Williams wasn't sure if Paramore would continue to make music, and these songs, along with this entire album, truly reflect that.
While some fans have been critical of this new sound, Paramore has come back strong with After Laughter. Each song is fun to listen to and easy to dance to, yet upon closer inspection, they offer a deeper connection to the artist. And isn't that why we love music?
Favorite tracks:
“Rose Colored Boy”
“Pool”
“Fake Happy”
Recommended if you like:
PVRIS
Melanie Martinez
Panic! at the Disco
All images from Billboard
(05/20/17 2:00pm)
Now that One Direction is probably a thing of the past, the boy band’s former members have been slowly branching off into their own individual projects. Zayn Malik, the first to leave the band, came out with the album Mind of Mine last year under simply the name Zayn, led by the fiery R&B super-hit “Pillowtalk”. The rest of the group remained remarkably quiet until last month, when Harry Styles released his debut solo single “Sign of the Times” and exemplified an entirely different kind of fire. Billowing and dramatic, the McCartney-esque epic impressed many who were never fans of Styles’ music under One Direction, and although the general mood of the album turns out to be much different from its singles, the increased maturity is present throughout.
(05/19/17 6:07pm)
by Ryan Fine
Now that One Direction is probably a thing of the past, the boy band’s former members have been slowly branching off into their own individual projects. Zayn Malik, the first to leave the band, came out with the album Mind of Mine last year under simply the name Zayn, led by the fiery R&B super-hit “Pillowtalk”. The rest of the group remained remarkably quiet until last month, when Harry Styles released his debut solo single “Sign of the Times” and exemplified an entirely different kind of fire. Billowing and dramatic, the McCartney-esque epic impressed many who were never fans of Styles’ music under One Direction, and although the general mood of the album turns out to be much different from its singles, the increased maturity is present throughout.
The slower songs
Harry Styles begins with the reverberant “Meet Me in the Hallway”, which is not a typical opening track for an album by a pop star of this magnitude. The song has an almost eerie atmosphere to it, seeming to be drowned out by vocal effects and telling the story of an illicit interaction. The creative production is actually a little out-of-character for the album as a whole, since most of the following tracks adhere to a standard pop-rock production style.
Several more of the album’s slow burners are reminiscent of Styles’ fellow radio singer/songwriters. “Two Ghosts”, for example, could easily fit in the Jack Johnson catalogue. Its comfortable chords and simple imagery could have made it a minor hit in the early 2000s. The final track “From the Dining Table” plays the same card while veering a little closer to Ed Sheeran, describing a lonely night in a hotel room while remembering an old flame.
The brightest and best song on the album is the indie-folk single “Sweet Creature”. One of the happier songs on the record, it gets its entire instrumentation from a playfully fingerpicked acoustic guitar. Later in the song, Styles plays with octave displacements to create drama and keep listeners on their toes. It is simple enough to have a broad appeal, but the bare folksy charm makes it unique in the pop world.
Embracing blues-rock: The tropes, tricks and traps
After “Sweet Creature” ends, the second act of the album begins. “Only Angel” begins exactly as the title suggests, with heavenly piano arpeggios supported by swelling strings and choirs. The buildup continues for almost a full minute, until the clouds finally burst open, revealing…a blues guitar riff? A chorus of “woo hoo”? Where did any of this come from? This is one of the most jarring introductions to a song in recent memory, and even though I want to believe this is part of the singer’s sense of humor, it sort of kills the mood from an objective standpoint.
Still, this more raucous mood is the default mood of the album from this point forward. “Only Angel” and the following track “Kiwi”, along with the earlier track “Carolina”, all sound like they could have been produced by The Black Keys’ Dan Auerbach. Strangely enough though, they’re actually better than the last couple of Black Keys records. When Harry Styles isn’t bluesy, it’s still careful not to feel like it’s directed toward teenage girls like his previous band was. In that sense, it’s a little bit difficult to pinpoint who the target audience of this album is actually supposed to be. Dads of One Direction fans, maybe?
Regardless of intent, the album is actually pretty commendable for its maturity. It was a creative risk for Styles to take the “old soul” approach this early in his life and career, but in a weird way it actually pans out. Even though these sounds might end up sounding dated to some, it’s actually sort of refreshing to hear them coming from a member of a 21st-century boy band.
The lyrical direction is different, but there’s still only one
One of the most unfortunate deficits of improvement on this album is in the lyrics. With few exceptions, this is an album full of surface-level love songs. Most of them are about some Mary Sue character whom Styles finds himself attracted to because she’s “not like other girls” or various tropes to that extent. Yet underneath all the rebellion, she’s always “a good girl” or “an angel” or some other boring sentiment. Underneath it all, this really is meant to be a simple pop album, but that doesn’t mean the standards for creativity should be any lower or that Styles couldn’t have pushed the envelope more if he wanted to. That much is evident in the music.
Even on the songs with more unique premises, Styles can’t help but link the drama back to a simple romantic plot. “Sign of the Times”, while urgent and epic on the surface, is still directed toward a singular person in the fashion of “just take my hand and trust me, we can still survive this somehow”. It works incredibly well on its own, but in context it’s just tiring. The story is the same with “Two Ghosts”, “Ever Since New York”, and plenty of other songs. Lyrically, many songs on this record work on their own, but not when compared side-by-side to nine other songs that are essentially about the same thing.
It’s not always a bad thing to write an album about love. It’s a complex emotion and there’s a lot left to do with it, as Father John Misty proved a couple of years ago with his masterful I Love You, Honeybear. The difference is that every song on that album provided a fresh, unique perspective on his feelings toward romances past and present. Harry Styles just brings back trite, decades-old lines and uses them on nearly every song. This is not something that ruins the album as a whole, but it is a big source of potential for Styles if he continues to release solo music in the future. All he has to do is get this aspect together and he’s got himself a winning formula.
Best tracks:
“Meet Me in the Hallway”
“Sign of the Times”
“Sweet Creature”
Recommended if you like:
The Black Keys
The Beatles
Ed Sheeran
All images from Billboard
(05/18/17 11:15pm)
by Preston Radtke
The impending drizzle that is the next album by The National finally revealed its arrival time on May 11. After two days of teasing, internet allusions, and vagueness the Cincinnati/Brooklyn-based rock band announced their upcoming album Sleep Well Beast, to be released on September 8. Furthermore, they also dropped the first single off the record, “The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness.” The track is a perplexing barrage of themes and instrumentation that harkens back to the outfit’s material off of Alligator and finds Matt Berninger’s voice in a more weathered and raw state. Though the band has stated that material off of the upcoming LP will be more electronic in nature, this song is traditional in its rock instrumentation. A solid enough addition to The National’s catalog, the track is satisfactory in its overarching structure yet disappointing in context.
“The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness” begins with an angelic sounding backing chorus that hints at Gregorian chants before Berninger takes control. Unfortunately, that brief holy mood doesn’t reappear within the song. Once Berninger begins troubadouring, the song takes on a more classic National aesthetic. Not nearly as dreary and brooding as material off of Trouble Will Find Me, the song features more rhythm and a faster pace reminiscent of many standouts off of Alligator. Pronounced and relatively aggressive guitar chords give this song more pace and life than other slow, morose National output. As usual, Bryan Devendorf’s progressive drum orchestrations give the song just enough punch and direction so as to not lose the listener in Berninger’s vocal gloominess.
Berninger’s voice is one of the major pitfalls of “The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness.” The National frontman sounds tired and older on this track. Additionally, his vocal harmonies and expeditions sound awkward and hastily created. Take the falling vocal tone of the repeated phrase “the system only dreams in total darkness.” It sounds as if Berninger is trying to stuff too many lyrics into a small instrumental window. That section of the song, which reappears several times throughout, sounds cramped and makes Berninger sound out-of-touch and vocally clunky.
Other Members of “The System Only Dreams in Total Darkness” Family:
My Morning Jacket: “Evil Urges”
Grizzly Bear: “Dory”
Beirut: “The Penalty”
All images from Dork