Music reviews for children by children.

8th May 2012

Photo with 4 notes

Daniel Johnston - Yip/Jump MusicSelf-released, 1983 8.9   Daniel Johnston is quite a controversial figure in the world of underground music. Although numerous luminaries have praised and paid tribute to his work, some have derided it, or at the very least claimed the ”crazy” Johnston to be unworthy of the “genius” tag that has often been uttered in the same breath as his name. Admittedly, the large body of work created by Daniel Johnston is difficult to grasp at times, but the best of his work, which I contend is Yip/Jump Music, makes the “genius” tag seem not so ridiculous.   The biggest problem I have with a lot of the derision Daniel Johnston receives is the assumption that his music is basically just the work of a childish, crazed psychopath banging out a cacophony of noise, which is praised as being genius by artsy-fartsy types who “just like it because it’s weird.” You know, criticisms that are not unique at all. Daniel Johnston, sadly, has indeed not always made the best choices due to his mental illnesses, but his music (especially his early work before his mental health took an unfortunate decline) does not really fit in with the “Outsider Music” genre he is often lumped in with. Certainly, the theme of being an outsider plays an important role in Daniel Johnston’s music and entire persona, but there isn’t really anything especially “odd” about how his music is structured or played. Sure, it’s a little rough around the edges (your music would be too if it were recorded straight to a cheap cassette), perhaps naively performed, and perhaps obviously played by an interesting character or whatever, but Daniel Johnston knows how to write a pop song.   The songs are full of classic Johnston contradictions. The music is bright, sunny, and melodic. The percussive nature of his chord-organ playing drives the upbeat sounding-tracks forward, and his singing is sincere and passionate. However, slower songs allow the chord-organ to permeate a gloomy funeral-home vibe, and the use of an extremely out of tune guitar on the “Sorry Entertainer” is a charmingly crazed mechanical-pop tune. Johnston falls perfectly into the singer/songwriter/storyteller category. And of course, despite being full of what I consider fantastic and melodic pop songs, the somewhat crude and almost eerie sound of Yip/Jump Music will certainly make a few people think, “What the fuck is this? You like this?” But the album isn’t supposed to earn you friends or cement your faith in humanity, it’s supposed to comfort you in your lack of it (which may have something to do with Johnston’s “spirituality”). It’s not party music, it’s personal music.    Yip/Jump Music succeeds because it invokes a simultaneous feeling of being the uncomfortable observer/uncomfortable participant. Sometimes, you’re keen to be an admiring witness to Daniel’s art, the whole art-gallery-“This is interesting“-aspect of it. Other times, you feel as though you’re right in the same boat; the struggles with love, sadness, loneliness, and the pervading Why am I here? question. Anyone that has sat in their room all day, pining over a lost love, and clanking some noise out of an instrument will find something in this album. But Yip/ Jump Music doesn’t wallow in its own despair, it’s strangely comfortable in it. It goes back to the basically true idea that the greatest creative works come from places of pain; the tortured artist. I’m sure Daniel Johnston recognizes this, and he uses it to his best advantage. This may sound like a suspect reason to do things, but if you consider Daniel was recording these songs on cheap cassettes alone in his parents’ basement, and that most of the music itself had almost no commercial appeal, it can hardly be argued as impure. Whether Daniel himself was just making music his own way without compromise and mass appeal in mind (like peers Half Japanese), or if he genuinely thought that he would eventually be as big as The Beatles (strangely, also like Half Japanese?) is unknown. But questions like that are part of what makes the music so interesting in the first place.

Daniel Johnston - Yip/Jump Music
Self-released, 1983

8.9

  Daniel Johnston is quite a controversial figure in the world of underground music. Although numerous luminaries have praised and paid tribute to his work, some have derided it, or at the very least claimed the ”crazy” Johnston to be unworthy of the “genius” tag that has often been uttered in the same breath as his name. Admittedly, the large body of work created by Daniel Johnston is difficult to grasp at times, but the best of his work, which I contend is Yip/Jump Music, makes the “genius” tag seem not so ridiculous.

  The biggest problem I have with a lot of the derision Daniel Johnston receives is the assumption that his music is basically just the work of a childish, crazed psychopath banging out a cacophony of noise, which is praised as being genius by artsy-fartsy types who “just like it because it’s weird.” You know, criticisms that are not unique at all. Daniel Johnston, sadly, has indeed not always made the best choices due to his mental illnesses, but his music (especially his early work before his mental health took an unfortunate decline) does not really fit in with the “Outsider Music” genre he is often lumped in with. Certainly, the theme of being an outsider plays an important role in Daniel Johnston’s music and entire persona, but there isn’t really anything especially “odd” about how his music is structured or played. Sure, it’s a little rough around the edges (your music would be too if it were recorded straight to a cheap cassette), perhaps naively performed, and perhaps obviously played by an interesting character or whatever, but Daniel Johnston knows how to write a pop song.

  The songs are full of classic Johnston contradictions. The music is bright, sunny, and melodic. The percussive nature of his chord-organ playing drives the upbeat sounding-tracks forward, and his singing is sincere and passionate. However, slower songs allow the chord-organ to permeate a gloomy funeral-home vibe, and the use of an extremely out of tune guitar on the “Sorry Entertainer” is a charmingly crazed mechanical-pop tune. Johnston falls perfectly into the singer/songwriter/storyteller category. And of course, despite being full of what I consider fantastic and melodic pop songs, the somewhat crude and almost eerie sound of Yip/Jump Music will certainly make a few people think, “What the fuck is this? You like this?” But the album isn’t supposed to earn you friends or cement your faith in humanity, it’s supposed to comfort you in your lack of it (which may have something to do with Johnston’s “spirituality”). It’s not party music, it’s personal music. 

  Yip/Jump Music succeeds because it invokes a simultaneous feeling of being the uncomfortable observer/uncomfortable participant. Sometimes, you’re keen to be an admiring witness to Daniel’s art, the whole art-gallery-“This is interesting“-aspect of it. Other times, you feel as though you’re right in the same boat; the struggles with love, sadness, loneliness, and the pervading Why am I here? question. Anyone that has sat in their room all day, pining over a lost love, and clanking some noise out of an instrument will find something in this album. But Yip/ Jump Music doesn’t wallow in its own despair, it’s strangely comfortable in it. It goes back to the basically true idea that the greatest creative works come from places of pain; the tortured artist. I’m sure Daniel Johnston recognizes this, and he uses it to his best advantage. This may sound like a suspect reason to do things, but if you consider Daniel was recording these songs on cheap cassettes alone in his parents’ basement, and that most of the music itself had almost no commercial appeal, it can hardly be argued as impure. Whether Daniel himself was just making music his own way without compromise and mass appeal in mind (like peers Half Japanese), or if he genuinely thought that he would eventually be as big as The Beatles (strangely, also like Half Japanese?) is unknown. But questions like that are part of what makes the music so interesting in the first place.

Tagged: daniel johnstonyip/jump musicmusic review

27th April 2012

Photo with 6 notes

The Depreciation Guild - Spirit YouthKanine, 2010 8.2   Shoegaze, like so many other genres pioneered over two decades ago, has seen a somewhat uncomfortable revival in recent years. If you’re an optimist, you’ve welcomed the flood of shoegaze-styled groups. If you’re a pessimist, you’ve hated the revival of a genre that reached its peak when a lot of its modern practitioners were still in diapers. And if you’re a realist (like me), you acknowledge the fact that most of it will certainly be monotonous and just plain bad, but some of it may well be great.   The recent revivals have been full of some crap music and some harsh criticism, with creators of the latter pointing to the lack of creativity or music on the level of those “Golden Years”. To be fair, shoegaze especially isn’t exactly a genre where originality and virtuosity are the main focus. Even now, shoegaze bands can certainly create convincing and passionate music, but with a style of music so rigidly defined and perfected already, it’s hard not to say, “This just sounds like a cheap and insincere My Bloody Valentine (Or Jesus and Mary Chain or Slowdive) imitation.” That’s obviously a poor attitude to have, but it resonates some truth.   The more clever bands have mixed shoegaze with other influences, and with varying degrees of success. The Depreciation Guild (lead by The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s drummer Kurt Feldman) certainly developed an interesting take in their 5 years together, mixed with equal parts dream pop, a heavy dose of 80s darkwave/synthpop, and most surprisingly, the Famicom (or Super Nintendo) crunch to create a dramatic and dreamy swirl of reverb-heavy guitars and 8-bit washes endlessly described as “blip blops”. On The Depreciation Guild’s first LP, In Her Gentle Jaws, the chiptune video game sound had an exceedingly more prominent role, and was more of an exercise in melding Cocteau Twins-guitar with the nostalgia-inducing Famicom sound chip. Predictably, despite being a good album, the use of what some would consider “cheesy” Super NES melodies and drums clashed with the dramatic sound and tone of the guitars and lyrics, and was perhaps, understandably, thought of as gimmicky. TDG, to their credit, recognized this and sought out to make an album that proved their use of the Famicom was just as another instrument, and not a novelty item.   The chiptune sound on Spirit Youth has a less prominent, but much more refined role. The bright scatters of digital chirping flow with the tracks rather than sticking out at you, and this coupled with the use of real drums and bass give Spirit Youth a much more dynamic and serious “band” sound. Overall, The Depreciation Guild have always been on the dreamier and softer side of the shoegazer coin, as there is basically no feedback or discordant guitar tones. The lack of emphasis on harsher textures may be enough to not even consider this a shoegaze album at all, but the comparatively abrasive and driving tracks “Crucify You” and “Through The Snow” provide among the most thrilling moments on the album.     Which I feel is the only real negative thing I can say about this record. There is a distinct lack of abrasiveness. The melodramatic vocals and synths sometimes call to mind the more saccharine and overtly “romantic” qualities of J-Pop and 80s synthpop, which can be a bit distasteful at times. Spirit Youth is also confusing in that I can’t decide whether it’s a POP! (as in the independent punk-ethos pop) or pop (as in “I want to be in the Top 40”) album. Despite that, and if you can get over the tooth-rotting sweetness, Spirit Youth is a pretty great album. The songwriting is strong and intricate, and the melodies are memorable. At the very least, these guys truly meant what they were doing, and it’s a shame the couldn’t have done more.

The Depreciation Guild - Spirit Youth
Kanine, 2010

8.2

  Shoegaze, like so many other genres pioneered over two decades ago, has seen a somewhat uncomfortable revival in recent years. If you’re an optimist, you’ve welcomed the flood of shoegaze-styled groups. If you’re a pessimist, you’ve hated the revival of a genre that reached its peak when a lot of its modern practitioners were still in diapers. And if you’re a realist (like me), you acknowledge the fact that most of it will certainly be monotonous and just plain bad, but some of it may well be great.

  The recent revivals have been full of some crap music and some harsh criticism, with creators of the latter pointing to the lack of creativity or music on the level of those “Golden Years”. To be fair, shoegaze especially isn’t exactly a genre where originality and virtuosity are the main focus. Even now, shoegaze bands can certainly create convincing and passionate music, but with a style of music so rigidly defined and perfected already, it’s hard not to say, “This just sounds like a cheap and insincere My Bloody Valentine (Or Jesus and Mary Chain or Slowdive) imitation.” That’s obviously a poor attitude to have, but it resonates some truth.

  The more clever bands have mixed shoegaze with other influences, and with varying degrees of success. The Depreciation Guild (lead by The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s drummer Kurt Feldman) certainly developed an interesting take in their 5 years together, mixed with equal parts dream pop, a heavy dose of 80s darkwave/synthpop, and most surprisingly, the Famicom (or Super Nintendo) crunch to create a dramatic and dreamy swirl of reverb-heavy guitars and 8-bit washes endlessly described as “blip blops”. On The Depreciation Guild’s first LP, In Her Gentle Jaws, the chiptune video game sound had an exceedingly more prominent role, and was more of an exercise in melding Cocteau Twins-guitar with the nostalgia-inducing Famicom sound chip. Predictably, despite being a good album, the use of what some would consider “cheesy” Super NES melodies and drums clashed with the dramatic sound and tone of the guitars and lyrics, and was perhaps, understandably, thought of as gimmicky. TDG, to their credit, recognized this and sought out to make an album that proved their use of the Famicom was just as another instrument, and not a novelty item.

  The chiptune sound on Spirit Youth has a less prominent, but much more refined role. The bright scatters of digital chirping flow with the tracks rather than sticking out at you, and this coupled with the use of real drums and bass give Spirit Youth a much more dynamic and serious “band” sound. Overall, The Depreciation Guild have always been on the dreamier and softer side of the shoegazer coin, as there is basically no feedback or discordant guitar tones. The lack of emphasis on harsher textures may be enough to not even consider this a shoegaze album at all, but the comparatively abrasive and driving tracks “Crucify You” and “Through The Snow” provide among the most thrilling moments on the album.  

  Which I feel is the only real negative thing I can say about this record. There is a distinct lack of abrasiveness. The melodramatic vocals and synths sometimes call to mind the more saccharine and overtly “romantic” qualities of J-Pop and 80s synthpop, which can be a bit distasteful at times. Spirit Youth is also confusing in that I can’t decide whether it’s a POP! (as in the independent punk-ethos pop) or pop (as in “I want to be in the Top 40”) album. Despite that, and if you can get over the tooth-rotting sweetness, Spirit Youth is a pretty great album. The songwriting is strong and intricate, and the melodies are memorable. At the very least, these guys truly meant what they were doing, and it’s a shame the couldn’t have done more.

Tagged: the depreciation guildspirit youthshoegazedream popchiptunemusic review

15th March 2012

Photo with 7 notes

The Gun Club - Fire of LoveRuby/Slash Records, 1981 9.3    Everyone knows something about the blues. Or at least that’s how I think it goes. I would consider myself somewhat of a music fan (ha), but admittedly I know little about the blues as a culture. But again, as the cliché goes: everyone knows something about the blues. In this case, the blues means just good ol’ sadness, but I’ve always thought of the blues (as much of a Hollywood-styled inaccuracy as it may be) as people in the Deep South expressing their anguish through a bare-bones, uncomplicated song, gnarled out of an acoustic guitar. Something primal and spiritual, and something so old you can see the dust gathering on it. Which, of course, is part of its charm and importance. But perhaps for the same reason, I’ve never been terribly interested in it, or rather invested in it. The eerie and haunting crackling that is many old blues recordings is rather fascinating, but also seems like a history lesson/archaic ceremony at times, and doesn’t make for music you can (for the absolute worst lack of a better term) “rock out” to. That’s what the kids want these days right?   The Gun Club, even though a punk rock band, evoke something within the (right) listener that can only be described as primal and spiritual. The blues. Early 1980s Los Angeles might have been as far removed from the 1930s Mississippi Delta as you can get culturally speaking, but when listening to this album, you know it’s there. I’m not quite sure what “it” is, but it’s there. Fire of Love is an incredibly atmospheric record, and listening to it often evokes the same eerie qualities of those same classic blues recordings. This is quite literally “roots” music, and the subject matter is rooted in those same early blues tracks. Tales of drug and alcohol addiction (“She’s Like Heroin to Me”), sex (“Sex Beat”), heartbreak (“For The Love of Ivy”), spirituality (“Preaching The Blues”), love (“Ghost on the Highway”), death; the things that make life miserable and fascinating. Death is prevalent throughout Fire of Love, which has led The Gun Club to be influential in the deathrock/gothic rock scenes.   But the concept of death plays a different role in The Gun Club’s music, rather than being used merely for B-movie styled shock value (which is one of the reasons why this is not Psychobilly) or for a somber, mourning approach. Instead, it makes a quite intense, spectral, swampy, and somehow sickly humorous presence on the album, full of voodoo, ghosts, potions, and graveyards. Despite being a band who fused the blues and punk rock, something invented by Jeffrey Lee Pierce and The Gun Club (according to X’s John Doe), the clichéd image of your “young, loud, and snotty” punk rocker (which had already grown tiresome by 1981) thankfully doesn’t make an appearance. It’s the approach that makes it punk rock. In addition, a certain dynamic that The Gun Club doesn’t receive much credit for is the concept of ”LOUD quiet LOUD”. The Pixies are known for popularizing and perfecting this, but on tracks like “Preaching The Blues”, the influence becomes apparent, and some fans may be able to hear traces of Fire of Love on The Pixies’ first release, Come On Pilgrim.   And rather than being predictable and obnoxious, Jeffrey Lee faithfully croons and hollers like a classic blues/country singer; half-singing, half-speaking, sometimes screaming his heart out. Most of the time he’s just calm and cool. He’s fine with eternal damnation. And whether he’s tied to the blues tradition of telling a story, or the sober realism that punk rock makes a virtue of, or if it’s a mixture of both (it’s probably both), Fire of Love makes for a fascinating, important, and worthy listen.

The Gun Club - Fire of Love
Ruby/Slash Records, 1981

9.3

   Everyone knows something about the blues. Or at least that’s how I think it goes. I would consider myself somewhat of a music fan (ha), but admittedly I know little about the blues as a culture. But again, as the cliché goes: everyone knows something about the blues. In this case, the blues means just good ol’ sadness, but I’ve always thought of the blues (as much of a Hollywood-styled inaccuracy as it may be) as people in the Deep South expressing their anguish through a bare-bones, uncomplicated song, gnarled out of an acoustic guitar. Something primal and spiritual, and something so old you can see the dust gathering on it. Which, of course, is part of its charm and importance. But perhaps for the same reason, I’ve never been terribly interested in it, or rather invested in it. The eerie and haunting crackling that is many old blues recordings is rather fascinating, but also seems like a history lesson/archaic ceremony at times, and doesn’t make for music you can (for the absolute worst lack of a better term) “rock out” to. That’s what the kids want these days right?

  The Gun Club, even though a punk rock band, evoke something within the (right) listener that can only be described as primal and spiritual. The blues. Early 1980s Los Angeles might have been as far removed from the 1930s Mississippi Delta as you can get culturally speaking, but when listening to this album, you know it’s there. I’m not quite sure what “it” is, but it’s there. Fire of Love is an incredibly atmospheric record, and listening to it often evokes the same eerie qualities of those same classic blues recordings. This is quite literally “roots” music, and the subject matter is rooted in those same early blues tracks. Tales of drug and alcohol addiction (“She’s Like Heroin to Me”), sex (“Sex Beat”), heartbreak (“For The Love of Ivy”), spirituality (“Preaching The Blues”), love (“Ghost on the Highway”), death; the things that make life miserable and fascinating. Death is prevalent throughout Fire of Love, which has led The Gun Club to be influential in the deathrock/gothic rock scenes.

  But the concept of death plays a different role in The Gun Club’s music, rather than being used merely for B-movie styled shock value (which is one of the reasons why this is not Psychobilly) or for a somber, mourning approach. Instead, it makes a quite intense, spectral, swampy, and somehow sickly humorous presence on the album, full of voodoo, ghosts, potions, and graveyards. Despite being a band who fused the blues and punk rock, something invented by Jeffrey Lee Pierce and The Gun Club (according to X’s John Doe), the clichéd image of your “young, loud, and snotty” punk rocker (which had already grown tiresome by 1981) thankfully doesn’t make an appearance. It’s the approach that makes it punk rock. In addition, a certain dynamic that The Gun Club doesn’t receive much credit for is the concept of ”LOUD quiet LOUD”. The Pixies are known for popularizing and perfecting this, but on tracks like “Preaching The Blues”, the influence becomes apparent, and some fans may be able to hear traces of Fire of Love on The Pixies’ first release, Come On Pilgrim. 

 And rather than being predictable and obnoxious, Jeffrey Lee faithfully croons and hollers like a classic blues/country singer; half-singing, half-speaking, sometimes screaming his heart out. Most of the time he’s just calm and cool. He’s fine with eternal damnation. And whether he’s tied to the blues tradition of telling a story, or the sober realism that punk rock makes a virtue of, or if it’s a mixture of both (it’s probably both), Fire of Love makes for a fascinating, important, and worthy listen.

Tagged: the gun clubfire of lovemusic reviewpunk blues

27th January 2012

Question with 1 note

suburbanlovers asked: Your Vampire Weekend review brings up really great points. As much as people like to believe they love music, it's often image and certain connotations about a band that dictates what people enjoy, and thus can hinder music-consumers from really enjoying what they really might enjoy (this also goes for loving music 'ironically'). Your reviews are really good. Hope you plan to write more.

Precisely. Thanks very much.

26th January 2012

Photo with 16 notes

Vampire Weekend - ContraXL Recordings, 2010 8.7 *This is more of an essay than a music review* You know, I was thinking about it, and if I may get straight to the point, I think Vampire Weekend may be this generation’s Talking Heads. Now before you get angry about this sentence, I merely think they’re similar in execution (I am not saying that Vampire Weekend is as good as Talking Heads, or vice-versa).   Both come out of music scenes where they didn’t quite fit in (Talking Heads from 1970s CBGB’s New York punk rock, Vampire Weekend from the modern “ultra-hot” Brooklyn indie rock scene). But as it’s been said before, their places in their respective scenes were structural, rather than cultural. Just as the Talking Heads didn’t seem to care about being the “punkest”, Vampire Weekend seem to care little about indie cred. They were both simply too odd to thrive anywhere else.   Unfortunately as well, both are mainly known, at least by general recollection, for a quirky hit single and music video (Once In A Lifetime, A-Punk) that isn’t entirely representative of their overall sound. And both bands are “White, college-educated, upper-middle class looking” who incorporate a massive amount of influence from African music. This last similarity has been a real source of problems for Vampire Weekend, but never for the Talking Heads. And if the Talking Heads did experience a slight backlash for their use of African sounds, it was nothing compared to the backlash Vampire Weekend have faced.   Why is it this way? Well, the answer is quite obvious. Any sort of self-respecting “indie” music fan knows about Vampire Weekend, and certainly has an opinion on them. More often than not, that opinion is not a very positive one. And admittedly, it’s quite easy to hate Vampire Weekend. Every. Single. Mention of them. ANYWHERE, makes note of their college backgrounds, their upper middle-class preppy look, and their use of African-pop sounds. These things are the primary source for criticism of the band. I mean, who really wants to listen to white, upper class Ivy League imperialist snobs playing stolen African music right? But as everyone knows, or should know, looks can be deceiving. Such criticism has proven once again that indie rock fans aren’t as open-minded and welcoming as they’d like to think.   Suburban kids really love to show how “gritty” they truly are, and what’s a better way to show that than liking bands, who even though may have come from even wealthier backgrounds than Vampire Weekend, don’t “look it” or “sound like it”? It’s really come down to (mainly) “white, college-educated” music critics and fans who haven’t really had a hard life (from a reasonable standpoint) decrying “white, college-educated” musicians who haven’t really had a hard life either (but they actually admit it). For the average, young, and sane (as in down-to-earth) American (or anyone in the “First World”), there is always going to be someone that has it better than you and someone that has it worse than you. So while it’s easy for you and myself to attack others, it’s just as easy for you and myself to be attacked in these terms.   This is why I have respect for Vampire Weekend. I can’t defend everything they’ve ever done, but they aren’t faking or trying to play down their backgrounds; if anything VW is just trying to tell the truth. Vampire Weekend often have to reiterate that they aren’t the spoiled rich kids people make them out to be, but they aren’t trying to make themselves seem like tough working-stiffs either. This conflict is often discussed in their lyrics, and is sometimes taken the wrong way. They definitely aren’t a completely satiric band covertly taking down rich people by becoming them, but examining and exploring the turmoil of class (not wanting to be elitist and rich, but not wanting to be dirt poor) that nearly everyone can relate to. This is kind of a heavy notion; certainly heavier than anything you’d think Vampire Weekend lyrics would be about, but this itself demonstrates my thoughts perfectly. Perhaps because of their sugary, poppy sound, this would automatically deter many from thinking they had any real substance. And despite this massive backlash that has really brought up terms of class and music and sincerity and culture-robbing, Vampire Weekend are not a serious political band, they simply want to write some good pop songs.  And they do it. Really, really well. The songs on Contra are really some of the best and most original pop tunes I’ve heard in a long time. The over-mentioned use of African music hasn’t been done away with this time to save face or anything, it’s just been blended in better. The use of programmed drums and synthesizers created really bright flourishes of color, but it seems quite organic and natural at the same time. The production is virtually flawless, the instrumentation vibrant, jumpy, and often surprisingly moving. It can be a bit much at times though, and certain people may find everything a bit stomach-churning. But Contra is a classic example of an album that grows on you. This isn’t music where you immediately think, “This is brilliant”, it’s more of a realization that you actually do like it. And for some reason, Contra is a little underwhelming. Not in the way of music, but it does seem like it’s over far too quickly. I can’t quite put my finger on it.   The best thing about Vampire Weekend is that although they obviously have numerous influences (indie pop, various types of African music, calypso, reggae, ska, Britpop, classical, synthpop, and dare I say even punk rock), they mix these influences together perfectly. And even better yet, they sound completely original and with hardly any starting points. So even though you’re hearing all these familiar sounds, the end result is something I find very original and almost startling. You definitely can’t say that about many bands these days, no matter how “good” they are.   I would suggest that people at least give them a chance. And if you still think their music sucks, at least it’s the music itself and not really what you think about the people making it. Obviously though, who a band are as people (and they don’t strike me as bad people) makes a great difference in how one can feel about their music, but I simply think the criticism, or at least amount of criticism, Vampire Weekend gets is a little unfair. I never imagined I would like or defend this band, which is still in the “guilty-pleasure” category, but I can’t resist a just plain good pop song. Who can really? Despite how painful it is to change and admit appreciation for a band you used to loathe, it’s comforting in a way. It’s proves you’re human. And I think I just hated Vampire Weekend fans more than the band, but that’s how it always is, isn’t it?

Vampire Weekend - Contra
XL Recordings, 2010

8.7

*This is more of an essay than a music review*

You know, I was thinking about it, and if I may get straight to the point, I think Vampire Weekend may be this generation’s Talking Heads. Now before you get angry about this sentence, I merely think they’re similar in execution (I am not saying that Vampire Weekend is as good as Talking Heads, or vice-versa).

  Both come out of music scenes where they didn’t quite fit in (Talking Heads from 1970s CBGB’s New York punk rock, Vampire Weekend from the modern “ultra-hot” Brooklyn indie rock scene). But as it’s been said before, their places in their respective scenes were structural, rather than cultural. Just as the Talking Heads didn’t seem to care about being the “punkest”, Vampire Weekend seem to care little about indie cred. They were both simply too odd to thrive anywhere else.

  Unfortunately as well, both are mainly known, at least by general recollection, for a quirky hit single and music video (Once In A Lifetime, A-Punk) that isn’t entirely representative of their overall sound. And both bands are “White, college-educated, upper-middle class looking” who incorporate a massive amount of influence from African music. This last similarity has been a real source of problems for Vampire Weekend, but never for the Talking Heads. And if the Talking Heads did experience a slight backlash for their use of African sounds, it was nothing compared to the backlash Vampire Weekend have faced.

  Why is it this way? Well, the answer is quite obvious. Any sort of self-respecting “indie” music fan knows about Vampire Weekend, and certainly has an opinion on them. More often than not, that opinion is not a very positive one. And admittedly, it’s quite easy to hate Vampire Weekend. Every. Single. Mention of them. ANYWHERE, makes note of their college backgrounds, their upper middle-class preppy look, and their use of African-pop sounds. These things are the primary source for criticism of the band. I mean, who really wants to listen to white, upper class Ivy League imperialist snobs playing stolen African music right? But as everyone knows, or should know, looks can be deceiving. Such criticism has proven once again that indie rock fans aren’t as open-minded and welcoming as they’d like to think.

  Suburban kids really love to show how “gritty” they truly are, and what’s a better way to show that than liking bands, who even though may have come from even wealthier backgrounds than Vampire Weekend, don’t “look it” or “sound like it”? It’s really come down to (mainly) “white, college-educated” music critics and fans who haven’t really had a hard life (from a reasonable standpoint) decrying “white, college-educated” musicians who haven’t really had a hard life either (but they actually admit it). For the average, young, and sane (as in down-to-earth) American (or anyone in the “First World”), there is always going to be someone that has it better than you and someone that has it worse than you. So while it’s easy for you and myself to attack others, it’s just as easy for you and myself to be attacked in these terms.

  This is why I have respect for Vampire Weekend. I can’t defend everything they’ve ever done, but they aren’t faking or trying to play down their backgrounds; if anything VW is just trying to tell the truth. Vampire Weekend often have to reiterate that they aren’t the spoiled rich kids people make them out to be, but they aren’t trying to make themselves seem like tough working-stiffs either. This conflict is often discussed in their lyrics, and is sometimes taken the wrong way. They definitely aren’t a completely satiric band covertly taking down rich people by becoming them, but examining and exploring the turmoil of class (not wanting to be elitist and rich, but not wanting to be dirt poor) that nearly everyone can relate to. This is kind of a heavy notion; certainly heavier than anything you’d think Vampire Weekend lyrics would be about, but this itself demonstrates my thoughts perfectly. Perhaps because of their sugary, poppy sound, this would automatically deter many from thinking they had any real substance. And despite this massive backlash that has really brought up terms of class and music and sincerity and culture-robbing, Vampire Weekend are not a serious political band, they simply want to write some good pop songs.

 And they do it. Really, really well. The songs on Contra are really some of the best and most original pop tunes I’ve heard in a long time. The over-mentioned use of African music hasn’t been done away with this time to save face or anything, it’s just been blended in better. The use of programmed drums and synthesizers created really bright flourishes of color, but it seems quite organic and natural at the same time. The production is virtually flawless, the instrumentation vibrant, jumpy, and often surprisingly moving. It can be a bit much at times though, and certain people may find everything a bit stomach-churning. But Contra is a classic example of an album that grows on you. This isn’t music where you immediately think, “This is brilliant”, it’s more of a realization that you actually do like it. And for some reason, Contra is a little underwhelming. Not in the way of music, but it does seem like it’s over far too quickly. I can’t quite put my finger on it.

  The best thing about Vampire Weekend is that although they obviously have numerous influences (indie pop, various types of African music, calypso, reggae, ska, Britpop, classical, synthpop, and dare I say even punk rock), they mix these influences together perfectly. And even better yet, they sound completely original and with hardly any starting points. So even though you’re hearing all these familiar sounds, the end result is something I find very original and almost startling. You definitely can’t say that about many bands these days, no matter how “good” they are.

  I would suggest that people at least give them a chance. And if you still think their music sucks, at least it’s the music itself and not really what you think about the people making it. Obviously though, who a band are as people (and they don’t strike me as bad people) makes a great difference in how one can feel about their music, but I simply think the criticism, or at least amount of criticism, Vampire Weekend gets is a little unfair. I never imagined I would like or defend this band, which is still in the “guilty-pleasure” category, but I can’t resist a just plain good pop song. Who can really? Despite how painful it is to change and admit appreciation for a band you used to loathe, it’s comforting in a way. It’s proves you’re human. And I think I just hated Vampire Weekend fans more than the band, but that’s how it always is, isn’t it?

Tagged: vampire weekendcontramusic reviewessaykind of

19th October 2011

Photo with 35 notes

My Bloody Valentine - This Is Your Bloody ValentineTycoon, 1985 7.4   “7.4?!”, some of you may be shouting at the top of your lungs. Well, it’s true. I like this album. I think it’s pretty good. Possibly really good, depending on the situation. Many people deride this album as being the most dreadful, awful, horrible music ever created (even Kevin Shields himself urged people not to seek the early albums), but I think it’s a damn fine record. It’s only natural for people who have heard Loveless-era My Bloody Valentine exclusively to find this gothy-bluesy-post punk quite shocking, and even bad in comparison. But listening to this album merely to compare is a waste of time and unfair.   Since I had heard and loved bands like The Cramps and The Damned before I listened to this album, and actually My Bloody Valentine at all, I think I was more receptive to This Is Your Bloody Valentine. I think that is the major problem with how the popular (negative) opinion of this album came to be. A good portion of people who would call themselves MBV fans and only particularly enjoy Loveless, have little-to-no experience with this type of music to begin with. And even out of those that do, most will probably only see it as worthless, derivative, and just plain silly. That’s not to say people that don’t like this album are wrong for it, but I think the context should at least be noticed. This Is Your Bloody Valentine was obviously recorded years before Loveless by some young kids having a bit of fun thrashing their guitars and voices. The shambling noise of this album couldn’t possibly appeal to those who view Loveless as the only and absolute benchmark, and it was simply never meant to.   In other reviews, I’ve seen bands like The Cramps and even Joy Division listed under the influences for this album (because any band that is “dark” is influenced by Joy Division, right?). I don’t hear much of Joy Division on this album, and not even much of The Cramps. Dave Conway does sing with the slight-campiness of Lux Interior, but personally I think he channels mid-period Dave Vanian (of The Damned) much more. The music sounds like a less-challenging but musically-tighter Birthday Party, most obvious on the track “Don’t Cramp My Style”. The band gives an intense performance of chaotic feedback and anguished screams, until it all collapses into a massive, quivering heap of distortion. The track “Tiger In My Tank” is probably the best and most overtly “goth” song on the album, with Dave Conway crooning, “The taste of blood is warm and sweet and welcome to his lips”. The whole album sounds very vampiric (if that makes sense) in general. Dave’s voice at times is pretty hilarious, but it’s always fun to listen to. The Doors seem to have a strong presence on this album too, especially with the bluesy-cathedral organ filled-closing track, “The Last Supper”. But despite all the obvious influences (some would say “rip-offs”), I think the album has some genuinely convincing moments. I’ve been convinced. P.S. This isn’t Loveless.

My Bloody Valentine - This Is Your Bloody Valentine
Tycoon, 1985

7.4

  “7.4?!”, some of you may be shouting at the top of your lungs. Well, it’s true. I like this album. I think it’s pretty good. Possibly really good, depending on the situation. Many people deride this album as being the most dreadful, awful, horrible music ever created (even Kevin Shields himself urged people not to seek the early albums), but I think it’s a damn fine record. It’s only natural for people who have heard Loveless-era My Bloody Valentine exclusively to find this gothy-bluesy-post punk quite shocking, and even bad in comparison. But listening to this album merely to compare is a waste of time and unfair.

  Since I had heard and loved bands like The Cramps and The Damned before I listened to this album, and actually My Bloody Valentine at all, I think I was more receptive to This Is Your Bloody Valentine. I think that is the major problem with how the popular (negative) opinion of this album came to be. A good portion of people who would call themselves MBV fans and only particularly enjoy Loveless, have little-to-no experience with this type of music to begin with. And even out of those that do, most will probably only see it as worthless, derivative, and just plain silly. That’s not to say people that don’t like this album are wrong for it, but I think the context should at least be noticed. This Is Your Bloody Valentine was obviously recorded years before Loveless by some young kids having a bit of fun thrashing their guitars and voices. The shambling noise of this album couldn’t possibly appeal to those who view Loveless as the only and absolute benchmark, and it was simply never meant to.

  In other reviews, I’ve seen bands like The Cramps and even Joy Division listed under the influences for this album (because any band that is “dark” is influenced by Joy Division, right?). I don’t hear much of Joy Division on this album, and not even much of The Cramps. Dave Conway does sing with the slight-campiness of Lux Interior, but personally I think he channels mid-period Dave Vanian (of The Damned) much more. The music sounds like a less-challenging but musically-tighter Birthday Party, most obvious on the track “Don’t Cramp My Style”. The band gives an intense performance of chaotic feedback and anguished screams, until it all collapses into a massive, quivering heap of distortion. The track “Tiger In My Tank” is probably the best and most overtly “goth” song on the album, with Dave Conway crooning, “The taste of blood is warm and sweet and welcome to his lips”. The whole album sounds very vampiric (if that makes sense) in general. Dave’s voice at times is pretty hilarious, but it’s always fun to listen to. The Doors seem to have a strong presence on this album too, especially with the bluesy-cathedral organ filled-closing track, “The Last Supper”. But despite all the obvious influences (some would say “rip-offs”), I think the album has some genuinely convincing moments. I’ve been convinced.

P.S.

This isn’t Loveless.

Tagged: my bloody valentinethis is your bloody valentinemusic reviews

27th September 2011

Question with 1 note

poetessinthepit asked: I honestly despise most music reviews I read, but I love your reviews. Most music reviews are either peppered with flowery cliched phrases that don't really mean anything or are really cold and boring. Your reviews are perfect. They describe the music pretty accurately, are humorous and you can tell that the person writing them really has a love for good music.

You are ridiculously sweet.

Tagged: I paid her to write this

16th September 2011

Photo with 2 notes

The Horrors - Primary ColoursXL Recordings, 2009 9.2   Since I saw The Horrors live for the first time this week, I thought it would be the perfect time to publish this review. I’ll admit it. The first time I heard (and saw) The Horrors I did not care for them at all. Like many people, I saw them as gimmicky and pretentious (oh, that dreaded word). They seemed to be (and unfortunately sometimes still seem to be) adored more for their appearance rather than music. Parading around in their sometimes ridiculously silly “goth” attire, they made me think of one thing and one thing only: “style over substance”.   I quickly dismissed The Horrors as yet another lame band and more or less forgot about them. Soon after, I discovered a new song they had released, “Mirror’s Image”, and I decided to give it a listen. If you think my opinions on them changed at that exact moment…you would be wrong. All I remember thinking is, “Oh, so they’re ripping off My Bloody Valentine now.” But something happened differently this time. More and more I found myself coming back to the song, until I actually could say (no matter how painful it was) to myself, “I like this.” When I heard the rest of the album, I could actually say, “I love this.”   I really think it was only a matter of time. A modern group that takes so much influence from some of my favorite bands and actually implements it well was something I never thought I’d experience. And perhaps we actually paid more attention to the clothes than they did. That has been a major gripe with people over this band; they so obviously wear their influences on their collective sleeves. You can hardly read of a review of The Horrors (or any new band really) without mention of some classic artist. You can call them thieves or unoriginal, but the way they combine their influences to create original music deserves nothing but respect.   At the time of this writing, The Horrors have released their third album Skying just a short while ago. While I think it is very good, I consider Primary Colours to be their best. “Mirror’s Image”, “Three Decades”, “New Ice Age”, and “Primary Colours” were immediate favorites, but I soon grew to love the entire album. The way they’ve incorporated massive shoegaze guitars through a dark post-punk filter with krautrock-inspired synths is nothing short of remarkable. Maybe that doesn’t sound like too ridiculous of a combination, but to combine them and make it work is visionary. Gothic boy-band no longer.

The Horrors - Primary Colours
XL Recordings, 2009

9.2

  Since I saw The Horrors live for the first time this week, I thought it would be the perfect time to publish this review. I’ll admit it. The first time I heard (and saw) The Horrors I did not care for them at all. Like many people, I saw them as gimmicky and pretentious (oh, that dreaded word). They seemed to be (and unfortunately sometimes still seem to be) adored more for their appearance rather than music. Parading around in their sometimes ridiculously silly “goth” attire, they made me think of one thing and one thing only: “style over substance”.

  I quickly dismissed The Horrors as yet another lame band and more or less forgot about them. Soon after, I discovered a new song they had released, “Mirror’s Image”, and I decided to give it a listen. If you think my opinions on them changed at that exact moment…you would be wrong. All I remember thinking is, “Oh, so they’re ripping off My Bloody Valentine now.” But something happened differently this time. More and more I found myself coming back to the song, until I actually could say (no matter how painful it was) to myself, “I like this.” When I heard the rest of the album, I could actually say, “I love this.”

  I really think it was only a matter of time. A modern group that takes so much influence from some of my favorite bands and actually implements it well was something I never thought I’d experience. And perhaps we actually paid more attention to the clothes than they did. That has been a major gripe with people over this band; they so obviously wear their influences on their collective sleeves. You can hardly read of a review of The Horrors (or any new band really) without mention of some classic artist. You can call them thieves or unoriginal, but the way they combine their influences to create original music deserves nothing but respect.

  At the time of this writing, The Horrors have released their third album Skying just a short while ago. While I think it is very good, I consider Primary Colours to be their best. “Mirror’s Image”, “Three Decades”, “New Ice Age”, and “Primary Colours” were immediate favorites, but I soon grew to love the entire album. The way they’ve incorporated massive shoegaze guitars through a dark post-punk filter with krautrock-inspired synths is nothing short of remarkable. Maybe that doesn’t sound like too ridiculous of a combination, but to combine them and make it work is visionary. Gothic boy-band no longer.

Tagged: the horrorsprimary coloursmusic reviews

14th July 2011

Photo with 7 notes

Young Marble Giants - Colossal YouthRough Trade, 1980 9.8  Colossal Youth is still an album unlike any I’ve ever heard before or since, but that’s not to say I can’t find its massive influence on modern music. A sweet, faint voice singing softly over quirky and minimal electronic pop can be found in plenty of modern bands (and I swear I’ve heard it in commercials). Whether or not this can be traced back to the Young Marble Giants alone is debatable, but YMG certainly did it the best.   And certainly many people may just see it as that: quirky, minimal, electronic pop music. Many people tend to focus simply on the quirkiness and minimalism of Colossal Youth. It’s only obvious that these qualities would jump out at you, but despite all of its charm, this doesn’t strike me as the focus of the album. After a few listens, the silly synth and drum sounds don’t seem quite so silly anymore, they sound like they need to be there.   Despite being such a charmingly odd album, Colossal Youth is incredibly dark. I don’t mean dark in the sense of being violent (such as The Birthday Party) or morose (such as The Chameleons), but dark as in how the music actually comes across. You almost get the sense of being in a big, empty, dark room. I would say that Colossal Youth even rivals Joy Division’s Unknown Pleasures in terms of intense sparseness. The stark emptiness is where this album can really seem gloomy and almost desperate in a way. Thankfully, Alison Statton’s vocals can achieve the effect of being haunting, but also comforting, and are the perfect compliment to the songs. This is the only album YMG made, and despite sometimes wishing there were more, this is a perfect document as to what could be achieved with what little you had. The Young Marble Giants are one of those bands that are incredibly inspiring and frustating at the same time. Inspiring because maybe you too can make great music without being the best musician or having the best equipment, but frustrating because you just don’t know how they did it.

Young Marble Giants - Colossal Youth
Rough Trade, 1980

9.8

 Colossal Youth is still an album unlike any I’ve ever heard before or since, but that’s not to say I can’t find its massive influence on modern music. A sweet, faint voice singing softly over quirky and minimal electronic pop can be found in plenty of modern bands (and I swear I’ve heard it in commercials). Whether or not this can be traced back to the Young Marble Giants alone is debatable, but YMG certainly did it the best.

  And certainly many people may just see it as that: quirky, minimal, electronic pop music. Many people tend to focus simply on the quirkiness and minimalism of Colossal Youth. It’s only obvious that these qualities would jump out at you, but despite all of its charm, this doesn’t strike me as the focus of the album. After a few listens, the silly synth and drum sounds don’t seem quite so silly anymore, they sound like they need to be there.

  Despite being such a charmingly odd album, Colossal Youth is incredibly dark. I don’t mean dark in the sense of being violent (such as The Birthday Party) or morose (such as The Chameleons), but dark as in how the music actually comes across. You almost get the sense of being in a big, empty, dark room. I would say that Colossal Youth even rivals Joy Division’s Unknown Pleasures in terms of intense sparseness. The stark emptiness is where this album can really seem gloomy and almost desperate in a way. Thankfully, Alison Statton’s vocals can achieve the effect of being haunting, but also comforting, and are the perfect compliment to the songs.

This is the only album YMG made, and despite sometimes wishing there were more, this is a perfect document as to what could be achieved with what little you had. The Young Marble Giants are one of those bands that are incredibly inspiring and frustating at the same time. Inspiring because maybe you too can make great music without being the best musician or having the best equipment, but frustrating because you just don’t know how they did it.


Tagged: young marble giantscolossal youthmusic reviews

13th July 2011

Question with 1 note

poetessinthepit asked: You Killed A Boy For Me? I love the Henry's Dress reference. I love the reviews. I think I might love you if I was to judge you by your music tastes alone.

Thank you very much. I’ll definitely try to write another review this week.