Lindstrom Review

I reviewed Lindstrom's Two Cups of Rebel recently on Blogcritics. His last album got a lot of good press, so I was excited to hear his new one. I really didn't like it, and I was afraid that I just wasn't cool enough to like it. I wrote a negative review, and a few days later Pitchfork's review was up, and they agreed with me. In the end, it has a pretty low Metacritic score. I was happy to see that I wasn't alone in my negative perception of it. It's not terrible, but it is basically a noisy, sprawling mess. Totally skippable.

See what I mean?

Scott Solter - One River

As a producer and mixer, Scott Solter has worked with Superchunk, Okkervil River, the Mountain Goats, Pattern Is Movement, and the Court and Spark. One River is a re-release of an ambient album he made in 2005.

Ambient music is by nature intangible, meant to evoke sensations and feelings rather than the structure and explicitness of most music. I started listening to One River after visiting the Rothko Chapel in Houston, and I immediately saw the connection between Rothko’s monochromatic paintings and Solter’s washes of sound. Neither is meant to be appreciated in the same way as traditional art. There is no subject matter in Rothko’s paintings just as there is no verse-bridge-chorus structure in Solter’s piece. Instead, both artists are concerned with creating emotions in more subtle ways than does traditional art. What ambient music and abstract art offer is an opportunity to experience art that isn’t trying to define the listener/viewer experience. You aren’t distracted by the form, and so can better experience the sensation that the art evokes in you.

One River is meant to be listened to as one piece, and it slowly ebbs and flows over its 33-minute running time. There are processed guitars, synthesizers, and subtle percussive elements. It pulses and runs like the river it is named after, and the end result feels natural and organic despite the digital tools used to produce it. The overall mood is peaceful and reflective. It never veers into new age cheesiness, and doesn’t contain any unsettling or dissonant moments. I love Aphex Twin’s Selected Ambient Works Volume 2, but there are several tracks on that collection that are truly unsettling; and I was happy that One River avoids getting creepy.

Mark and Laura Solter created a film called Twins and Wives to accompany the re-release. While it is an interesting visualization of the music, I prefer to listen to One River without the visuals. Part of my enjoyment of the album is what images and feelings it brings up. It taps into an area of the brain that most music doesn’t touch.

I really enjoy this album, and I’m thankful that Perth-based Hidden Shoal Recording chose to reissue it. It’s gotten me to explore more ambient music, and has been a wonderful contrast to the majority of music that I listen to. One River is an excellent album that fans of ambient music won’t want to miss.

Article first published as Music Review: Scott Solter - One River on Blogcritics.

Luciano and Duane Stephenson Review

Reggae artist Luciano has been releasing albums steadily since the early nineties, but his most recent, United States of Africa, is the first one I've had the opportunity to listen to. I've heard of him, of course, and his reputation as a deeply religious, deeply conscious artist who exists outside the trends of mainstream reggae and dancehall.

United States of Africa is an ambitious album, chronicling the struggles Africa has undergone and is still undergoing, but imagining it as a unified home for Africans and the African diaspora. The album deals with the Rastafarian dream of returning to the Motherland with an intensity, sensitivity, and understanding of current affairs that isn't present in most reggae odes to leaving Babylon and returning to Ethiopia. Luciano also ties in concerns with the economy ("In This Recession," "Invasion"). This is protest music done right.

The production combines earthy rasta dread with contemporary techniques and sheen. Luciano has a voice has a rough edge to it, which adds an element of depth to his music. The songs manage to balance a serious message with a sense of joy, which makes the album more uplifting than the subject matter might suggest. Highlights include "Moving On," which sounds like classic rocksteady; "Invasion," which is both weary and hopeful at the same time; the gorgeous "Unite Africa"; and the early reggae feel of "Hosanna." I personally didn't like the inclusion of alto sax and synthesizers on several songs, which added an unnecessary cheesiness. Still, United States of Africa is a powerful album, and places Luciano firmly in the tradition of Bob Marley.

Duane Stephenson is another reggae artists following in Bob Marley's footsteps. His sophomore ablum, Black Gold, was released last month, following up on 2007’s August Town. Before striking out on his own, Stephenson was the singer/songwriter in To-Isis, who had a hit with a reggae version of Eric Clapton’s “Tears In Heaven.” Stephenson’s voice is reminiscent of Marley’s and he share’s the late legend’s heartfelt lyrics and social concerns. However, Stephenson’s music is polished with a layer of R&B sheen that veers close to schmaltz. The production is too cheesy and too middle of the road for my tastes, and as a result I wasn’t into this. Still, Stephenson has a great voice, and fans of smooth R&B should love Black Gold, even if I didn’t.

Originally posted on Blogcritics as Music Review: Luciano and Duane Stephenson - United States of Africa and Black Gold

Ernie Smith - The Best Original Masters Review

Article first published as Music Review: Ernie Smith, The Best Original Masters on Blogcritics.

Ernie Smith was a Jamaican artist who had a string of hits in the early seventies, including “I Can’t Take It,itta Patta,” “Bend Down,” and “Life Is Just For Living.” He recorded for the Federal Records label, who is know for their polished take on reggae. The production on this best-of collection owes more to the countrypolitan sound coming out of Nashville in the same time period as reggae.

There is none of the deep bass or colly-fueled skank of contemporary reggae producers like Joe Gibbs, Niney the Observer, Bunny Lee, or Lee Perry. Instead, there is a pop sheen to the songs, from Smith’s restrained baritone to the inclusion of non-reggae elements like strings and piano. Many of the songs sound like country-western, but for the mild reggae lilt. “I Can’t Take It” even includes a spoken word interlude at the end of the song, in clear, American English, without any of the patois or slang that makes reggae so distinctive. He also experiments with pop on “Footprints on the Ceiling.”

Even the more “reggae” songs on this disc are produced in a way that make them sound country. In the hands of Joe Gibbs or Bunny Lee, “Bend Down” could be a mellow, post-rocksteady reggae song. Smith makes it sound like George Jones with some dreadlocks on bass and guitar. The same is true with “One Dream,” “Ride On Sammy,” and “Pitta Patta.” Smith tries out some patois on “Duppy Gun Man,” but it sounds staged and insincere. His patois on “Key Card” and “Nice Time” sound more natural.

I’m not trying to write him off as a posh, fake Rasta. His pop approach to reggae may not have jibed with what was going on in the dancehall at the time, but forty years later his material sounds like other pop artists of the time, including Johnny Nash and George Jones. Smith’s take on “Sunday Morning Coming Down” is on par with Johnny Cash’s version. The pop production techniques add novel elements to the reggae sound palette, and it’s old enough to sound cool and retro rather than cheesy and watered down. As non-traditional as Ernie Smith’s music is, I found myself really enjoying this album.

There is an upbeat vibe to the songs that acknowledges the hardships in the world without being overwhelmed by them. There’s a story in the liner notes about how Smith decided to return the Jamaica in the late '80s after years of living in Florida. There had been a hurricane, and on the U.S. news, Americans were complaining about how they lost everything. This was contrasted with the Jamaican news, where poor villagers who lost everything were happy to still be alive. Smith realized he was living in the wrong country, and moved back to Jamaica, where he continues to record today. The Best Original Masters is worth investigating for any fan of early seventies pop and country, and anyone who appreciates the pop songwriting from that era.

The Intelligence

Article first published as Music Review: The Intelligence - Males on Blogcritics.

Seattle’s The Intelligence started as a side project by A Frames’ drummer Lars Finberg. From humble beginnings as scrungy cassette tape recordings, The Intelligence has become a real band with real production values on their sixth full-length, Males. It’s a trajectory the band started on 2007’s Deuteronomy, but their latest could possibly be their best.

Like the A-Frames and Thee Oh Sees, The Intelligence mix post punk and art rock elements into their clattering garage soup. They aren’t faux mods in Beatle boots pretending that it’s 1966 all over again. Instead, they meld raw, primitive rock with more complex ideas and songwriting. The garage rock elements give the music vitality and danger, but the artier elements give it weight.

The weirdness factor has been toned down from previous releases to the point where every song here feels like a song. It’s not weird for weird’s sake, and the artiness doesn’t make the music unpalatable. Rather, like a good Sonic Youth song, The Intelligence have a je ne sais quoi that makes Males more than just another garage album. Speaking of Sonic Youth, Lars is a dead ringer, vocal-wise, for Youth pinch singer Lee Renaldo, and “Sailor Itch” sounds like Daydream Nation gone surf rock.

Let’s not oversell the art rock thing, though. This is rock n’ roll, not conceptual art. Song titles like “Bong Life,” “Tuned to Puke,” and “Mom or A Parking Lot” make it clear that The Intelligence leans more towards so-dumb-it’s-brilliant rather than book smart.  

Lead single “Like Like Like Like Like Like” is a short-but-sweet blast that is in and out before you have time to defend yourself. “Mom or A Parking Lot” is a nightmarish piece of psychedelia with chipper but creepy keyboard. My favorite song on the album was “White Corvette,” a punky new wave song that rides the same notes for most of it’s three minute running time until finally giving you relief in the chorus, “It’s no fun/No no fun!”

At eleven tracks in under 26 minutes, Males is over almost as quickly as it begins. Most of the songs clock in at around two minutes, ending before they wear out their welcome. The result is a joyride that maintains it's brainy energy without ever sagging or getting boring.

Gappy Ranks

Article first published as Music Review: Gappy Ranks, Put The Stereo On on Blogcritics.

This is the debut solo album by London reggae artist Gappy Ranks, who first made a name for himself as part of the dancehall group Suncycle. On his solo album, he veers away from the hip hop-influenced dancehall of Suncycle, looking instead to rocksteady and early reggae.

Retro is the name of the game: the cover of the album evokes mid-sixties British ska, Gappy covers songs by Bob Marley and Tenor Saw, and recycles Treasure Isle riddims on several tracks. Just as many contemporary R&B singers are referencing and reworking classic sixties soul, Gappy is referencing and reworking reggae and rocksteady from the late sixties and early seventies.

The key to the sound of Put The Stereo On are the producers, the Peckings. The Peckings are Chris, Duke and Trevor Price, sons of British reggae pioneer George Price, aka Peckings. The Peckings contemporary take on old school sounds shows that they share a love for the music that their father so tirelessly promoted.

The songs range from the mellow skank and cultural lyrics of “Mountain Top” and the serious dread of “So Lost” to the more modern sounds of “A Little Understanding.” The mix of classic reggae sounds and riddims with modern production techniques and lyrics works perfectly on “Pumpkin Belly” and the title track. The analog riddims are beefed up with modern bass and drums, and Gappy’s commanding voice reminds you that this is the 2010s, not the 1970s.

Unfortunately, the Peckings try to make Gappy sound too contemporary, often running his voice through Auto-Tune. The robotic effect clashes with the classic riddims, and killed a couple of the songs for me. “Happiest Day of My Life” would be a much, much stronger song if Gappy didn’t sound like an underwater Cylon over the bright rocksteady riddim. His voice sounds better when the Auto-Tune is either not used or used sparingly.

Even with the unfortunate overuse of vocal effects, Put The Stereo On is a strong album. I loved the mix of old and new sounds, and the way Gappy and the Peckings put a fresh spin on 60s and 70s reggae and rocksteady. Not all of the songs worked, but those that did were pretty brilliant.

Busy Signal and Capleton Review

Two recent dance hall releases highlight two very different approaches to the genre. Busy Signal’s D.O.B. is full of high-energy songs about partying, while Capleton’s I-Ternal Fire offers a more mature and reflective perspective.

Busy Signal’s third album, D.O.B., is full of raucous riddims, hyperactive rapping, and many odes to partying and getting it on. Much of the success of the album is owed to the producers, who include DJ Karim, Kalonji D’Aguilar, Stephen “Di Genius” McGregor, Shane Brown, T’Jean Bennett, and Andrew Myrie. They show some of the same risk-taking and experimentation that made turn of the century hip hop so exciting. There are latin riddims on "Picane" and "Busy Latino," and classical flourishes on "Opera." "Nuh Fraid" sounds like Southern club rap, and "Hair Dresser Shop" draws from American R&B. Several tracks offer up the distilled essence of dancehall, including "Summn' A Guh Gwaan," with Bounty Killer, and "My Money (Money Tree)." The latter is little more than a snapping beat with Busy Signal's Auto-Tuned voice filling up the empty space, minimalism at its best.

Busy Signal rounds out his dancefloor movers with a handful of slower tracks. "Sweet Love (Night Shift)" is an update on the Commodores' 80s hit "Night Shift," and despite the cheese factor, Busy makes it work. He tries the trick again on "One More NIght," but this time around the source material (Phil Collins) isn't worth resurrecting. He picks a better song to rework on "Hi Grade," which references Tenor Saw's "Ring The Alarm" to praise the herb. The album ends with the ballad "Peace Reign," which proves that there is more to Busy than nightclubbing. Still, Busy Signal is at his best when he's getting asses to move, and the finest moments on D.O.B. are the uptempo ones.

There's not much geared towards the club on Capleton's I-Ternal Fire. The dancehall veteran has put out over twenty albums, and his slack days are far behind him. His latest album sees him examining what is right and wrong with the world, offering up 15 tracks of reggae that draws from roots artists like Bob Marley.

At his best, Capleton channels the righteous anger and soulful riddim of roots reggae. "Global War" criticizes Western countries for their wars; "Acres" celebrates marijuana agriculture; and "Same Old Story" is a moving ballad. The production throughout is lush, drawing heavily on acoustic instrumentation to create an organic feel. However, while the album sounds great and I appreciate the conscious lyrics, I-Ternal Fire is too mellow for my tastes. It's adult contemporary reggae, which isn't my cup of tea. While I may not put I-Ternal Fire on heavy rotation, it is still a solid album that fans of mellower reggae will enjoy. Personally, I'll stick with the more energetic if less morally defensible Busy Signal.

Article first published as Music Review: Busy Signal and Capleton on Blogcritics.

The Definitive Collection of Federal Records Review

This two-disc compilation covers the output of Federal Records from the mid-sixties through the early eighties. The label was founded by Kenneth Khouri in the early sixties. Khouri got his start in the 1950s cutting singles of mento records, and was on the front lines as ska exploded and then evolved into rocksteady, eventually settling into reggae.
The songs are arranged chronologically. Disc one starts out with the bright, raw sound of ska, including the Maytals' “My Daily Food” and Eric “Monty” Morris’s “In the Garden.” They are upbeat, energetic, and infectious, but they pale in comparison to the more sophisticated rocksteady songs. One of the first rocksteady songs recorded is included, Hopeton Lewis’s “Take It Easy.” One listen to that track and you’ll understand why a generation of Jamaicans abandoned the energetic but simple pulse of ska for the cooler, smoother rocksteady groove. Hopeton Lewis’s “Sounds and Pressure” is also on the disc, along with tracks by the Paragons and the Gaylettes.
One of the hallmarks of the Federal label was reggae remakes of pop tunes. There is a range of covers on this compilation, from Englebert Humperdink's “Talking Love,” to the Monkees’ “Its Nice To Be With You” to Dusty Springfield’s “Son of A Preacher Man.” Some of these covers, like the Gaylettes’ version of “Preacher Man,” are brilliant, but there are examples of pop songs that would have been better left alone. Gilbert O’Sullivan’s weepy “Alone Again Naturally” was anything but a natural fit for a reggae remake, as The Now Generations muzak version attests.
As the music changed from rocksteady to reggae, Federal’s output acquired a pop, cosmopolitan sheen. Disc two, which spans 1973-1982, is far from sufferah music. The polished production strips the songs of any danger, edge, or dread. This is reggae for dinner parties with polite society, music for red wine rather than spliffs. It’s still enjoyable, but is a marked contrast from other reggae producers of the era. This is definitely not the Black Ark.
High points include Ken Boothe and B.B. Seaton’s soul scorcher “(It’s the Way) Nature Planned It,” Delroy Wilson’s “I’m Still Waiting,” and Bob Andy’s “Fire Burning.” Other notable artists include Ernie Smith, Johnny Nash, and Marcia Griffiths. The album comes with excellent liner notes written by reggae historian Steve Barrow, and lots of photos from the era. All in all it’s a nice overview of a very fertile 18-year period of Jamaican musical history, and a good documentation of the Federal label’s contribution to that history.

Read more: http://blogcritics.org/music/article/music-review-the-definitive-collection-of/#ixzz0v86EOvea

Article first published as Music Review: The Definitive Collection of Federal Records (1964-1982) on Blogcritics.

Wavves Review

Wavves
King of the Beach

We all lose our shit sometimes. Hopefully we do it in the privacy of our own homes, far away from mobile phone cameras. Occasionally it’s in front of coworkers or family members, and we have to mumble an awkward apology later. Unfortunately, Wavves frontman Nathan Williams had the misfortune of losing his shit while playing a show at a festival in Spain curated by Pitchfork, the very website that had helped catapult him into fame. The site took special glee in tearing down the man they had been so overeager to promote in the months prior. It was a spectacular, embarrassing, and very public meltdown, indie rock’s own version of Britney Spears (although much less insane, and with less schadenfreude).

So here’s the deal. Nathan made a bunch of songs by himself as Wavves at his parents' house. His poppy, fuzzed out punk generated a lot of critical adoration, perhaps in greater measure than they deserved. Wavves became the Next Thing in a media landscape that is obsessed with the new. I listened to about five seconds of Wavves' first two albums, decided they were too noisy, and moved on to my own personal Next Thing. It was clear in the five seconds I spent with Wavves that they were on to something, but I couldn’t hang with their shitty production values.

So when I heard that their new album was recorded in an actual studio (Sweet Tea Recordings in Oxford, Mississippi) by a guy who had worked with Modest Mouse (Dennis Herring), I was immediately intrigued. What could Wavves do working with good equipment and a guy who knew how to record music? The results prove that Wavves is much more than a flash in the pan, and that Pitchfork’s championing of the band was spot on.

Opening track “King of the Beach” is a blast of wistful pop punk, with Nathan singing “Let the sun burn my eyes.” It’s still fuzzy, but the sound has been cleaned up considerably since his last record, and the result is that you can actually hear what he’s playing and singing. It’s like the band has had Lasik surgery, and all the fuzzy shapes are clear now.

I was totally sold on Wavves by the second song, “Super Soaker,” which demonstrates the strength of Williams’ songwriting. It also shows elements of psychedelic music. In fact, this album is like a mash-up of Syd Barrett-era Pink Floyd, the Beach Boys, and early '90s punk. There are harmonies inherited from Brian Wilson, whimsical trippiness handed down from early Floyd, and the cynicism and ennui of '90s alterna-rock ranging from Smashing Pumpkins to the Pixies to the Dead Milkmen.

Wavves is also an actual band this time around. Williams met drummer Billy Hayes and bassist Stephen Pope after his disastrous Spanish show. The two were playing with the late, volatile Jay Reatard, and must have figured that Williams would be a saner bandmate than Reatard. The addition of a drummer and bassist on two of the tracks rounds out the sound, making Wavves fuller while maintaining a garage punk rawness.

Still, Wavves is Williams’ show, and his personality dominates. There’s a combination of snottiness and self-hatred that is winning rather than off-putting. Williams never sounds pathetic or whiny, always balancing his smart-assness with enough humility to make it palatable. “I won’t ever die/I’ll go surfing in my mind,” Williams wails on “Idiot,” before confessing, “I’d say I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t mean shit.”

Forget what you think you know about Wavves. King of the Beach is a stellar album, and proves that they are the real deal. It’s a hazy, punky, psychedelic blast of sun, surf, and self-loathing, perfect for your next barbecue.

Article first published as Music Review: Wavves - King of the Beach on Blogcritics.

Beres Hammond Review

Article first published as Music Review: Beres Hammond - Just A Man on Blogcritics.

While he might be best known for his nineties hits, Beres Hammond has been recording music for over thirty years. He got his start in the early seventies with reggae group Zap Pow, and cut two solo records before officially leaving the group in 1979. Just A Man is his second album, recorded in 1979 at Joe Gibbs studio, and newly rereleased on VP Records.

While I generally associate Joe Gibbs with dancehall and roots reggae, Just A Man is closer to disco soul. It starts off with the uptempo song “Music Is A Positive Vibration,” which sounds a lot more like Barry White than Bob Marley. The song has a four-on-the-floor beat, funky bass, horns, and strings; think Studio 54 not a Kingston sound system. The only hint of Jamaica is Hammond’s slight accent.

“Do This World A Favour” and “Keep My Wheel Turning” are the other disco tracks on the album. While the disco elements are dated, the songs still work, mainly because the songwriting is strong. “Do This World A Favour” is an impassioned plea to live right, and “Keep My Wheel Turning” is scorching R&B.

It’s not all disco, though. Many of the songs could easily be lovers rock if they had a reggae riddim. “John Crazy” is a slower track that uses reggae instrumentation and intonations to create a slow-burning soul song. “Just A Man” is a powerful ballad, followed by the pining “I’m Lonely.” It could give Al Green a run for his money, as could “Let Me Love You Tonight.” The disc is rounded out with two tracks not included on the original album: “Seasons,” which was released as a single, and “Set Me Free,” which Hammond recorded with Zap Pow.

Just A Man ‘s soulful disco is not what you might expect from Joe Gibbs Studio, but it’s done well. This album is considered an under appreciated gem by many reggae fans. This reissue gives you the chance to hear it yourself.

Soca Gold 2010

For years, the annual Soca Gold compilations have been the source for the latest and greatest soca music. If you are looking for what's going on in soca today, Soca Gold 2010 is a great place to start.
Soca, the dancey offspring of calypso, is essentially party music, custom-made for carnival. As such it resists attempts at critical listening. If you are thinking about it, you are missing the point. It similar to pop folk from other countries, like Bosnian turbo folk or Bulgarian chalga: a mixture of folk elements with digital production and a pop sensibility. Like all dance music, soca is best enjoyed in the moment, and no doubt is a much more religious experience a few drinks in on a sweaty dance floor. The hyperactive beat and simple lyrics don't necessarily translate as well in the harsh light of day.
This disc compiles 16 tracks from the world of soca. Rikki Jai and Problem Child with Ravi B. both offer up some Soca Chutney that with a heavy East Indian influence. Interestingly, both songs, "Barman" and "Ah Drinka," are about men whose excessive drinking causes problems in their relationships. Brit Donae'o's song "Party Hard" has a winning stripped-down beat that compensates for it's vapid lyrics.
Some of the best songs here are ones that most explicitly reference calypso, including Alison Hind's raunchy "Gimmie De Juk Juk," Patrice Roberts' "Work It," and Machel Montana's "Wooeeii Gal Wooeeii." That said, the hip hop/dancehall bent of Peter Ram's "Tattoo Farm" and Fadda Fox's "Staggerah" are nice takes on the genre. Roy Cape's "Huntin" and Jamesy P.'s "Ants In Yuh Sugar Pan" are so high-energy that they almost sound like they are being played at the wrong speed. Gyptian's hit "Hold You" is included, remixed with a soca beat for those who like their music less frenetic.
The album comes with a DVD of music videos and live performances. The DVD helps, especially the live performances, because they allow the viewer to experience soca in its proper element. The videos range in production values from economical (Rikki Jai's "Barman") to flash (Donae'o, Gyptian). Again, I was reminded of the chalga videos of Planeta's stable of artists like Malina and Gergana, which all featured beautiful women in tiny outfits hanging out in mansions and riding in fancy cars. It ain't high art, but it gets the job done. As an added bonus, there is footage of carnival, and of the cover model's photo shoot.
For fans of soca, Soca Gold 2010 is a nice collection of recent hits. For the curious, it's a good starting place. After listening to the music and watching the DVD, I don't know that I'd call myself a fan, but even I have to admit that the genre has an irresistible charm.
Article first published as Music Review: Soca Gold 2010 on Blogcritics.

Sleigh Bells

BK duo Sleigh Bells are one of the most hyped indie bands since bloggers gushed over Vampire Weekend’s African/indie/yacht rock in late 2007. Sleigh Bells’ buzz built over a series of live shows, including an electrifying performance at SXSW this March, as well as a handful of singles on their Myspace page.

Now that their debut, Treats, is out on M.I.A.’s N.E.E.T. Recordings, it’s not hard to see what all the excitement was about. Treats’  opening track, “Tell ‘Em,” begins with Derek Miller’s metal guitar and snippy hip hop beats, combined with what sounds like a machine gun going off. After 40 seconds of trying to process all this, singer Alexis Krauss starts in with her wispy voice, adding a little Ciara meets Elizabeth Fraser to the mix. It’s prime Sleigh Bells, drawing on Miller’s past in hardcore band Poison the Well, and Krauss’ background in teen pop group RubyBlue, while adding a hip hop backbone layered with heavy doses of industrial noise. At their best, Sleigh Bells perfectly balance indie rock, punk rock, hip hop, and noise, creating music that draws on existing elements yet sounds totally fresh.

So are they worth the hype? A lot of the excitement about the band has to do with the fact that they have a kinetic, original sound. A certain degree of that excitement is due to the fact that Alexis Krauss is easy on the eyes and looks good in spandex. Her sex appeal comes across on record as well, with her grunts, sighs, playground chants, and coquettishly sweet singing.

The haters are chiming in as well, mostly with a chorus of “Sleigh Bells aren’t THAT great,” and “They’re too noisy!” To the first point I’d say that no one ever lives up to the hype. It’s not their fault that there hasn’t been that much else this year that really got critics excited. Criticisms about how noisy the band are have more merit.

This is a very, very noisy record. Poison the Well was one of those growly hardcore bands, and Miller is obviously channeling that love of chaos with Sleigh Bells. The guitars sound like chainsaws, the drum machines layer industrial cacophony over their 808s, and it’s all cranked to eleven. “Crown On the Ground” and “Straight A’s” both sound blown out, as if they were being played too loud on shitty speakers. There is a layer of distortion and grime over the album that is okay with crumby ear bud headphones, but grating on a decent sound system.

I’m hoping that in the future Sleigh Bells tone down the noise, because they are at their most interesting when they quiet down. The chanting and grinding guitars of “Infinity Guitars” are fun, but the band is better when Krauss’ pop leanings win out over Miller’s angry hardcore dudeism, like on the gorgeous “Run the Heart” and “Rill Rill.” Krauss is a great singer but a bad rapper, so she should drop her attempts at hip hop and channel her inner diva. Less Ke$ha, more Rhianna.

So, are Sleigh Bells worthy of the critical adoration they somewhat prematurely received? Do they have another album in them, or is this a one-off, flavor-of-the-month deal? I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m having too much fun blasting Treats.

Article first published as Music Review: Sleigh Bells - Treats on Blogcritics.

Wild Nothing - Gemini

Wild Nothing is the solo project of Virginian Jack Tatum, formerly of punk band Facepaint. He's abandoned jagged guitars and angst for the hazy sounds of late-80s dream-pop bands like Cocteau Twins, and the glorious mope rock of the Cure and the Smiths. Like other millennial retroists Neon Indian and Toro Y Moi, Tatum turns to the sounds of yesteryear to express the feelings of now.The album is full of reverberated guitars, shimmering synths, and tinny drum machines. While Tatum played bass on the album, it lacks low ends. Gemini is the opposite of funky: sexless, pining, trading on romantic yearning rather than physical excess.

"Our lips won't last forever and that's why I'd rather live in dreams and I'd rather die," he sings on opening track "Live In Dream," capturing the adolescent melodrama that fills the album. Gemini is the soundtrack of fledgling relationships, of unrequited crushes, of being young and happily melancholy. Tatum wrote all the songs and played the instruments, which at times results in navel-gazing. He's touring with a full band, which should make both the sound and themes of the music fuller and less introspective.

The album is dead-on 80s, and if you didn't know better you'd swear it came out twenty-odd years ago. Tatum doesn't merely emulate the sounds of the 80s, however, he internalizes them and makes them his own. Gemini is sincere and honest, and there is real emotion underneath the layer of synths and reverb.
Gemini's one failing is that while it is very successful as a sound, it is less successful as an album-length listening experience. In that sense, it reminded me of the Pains of Being Pure of Heart's debut: awesome in small bites, but a bit monotonous as a whole.  Many of the songs sound similar, and several, like "Pessimist," seem more like sketches than actual fleshed-out songs.

Still, it's a great sound, and in this day of the iPod and constant shuffle, it's likely that most listeners will digest this one track at a time. While I wasn't totally convinced with Gemini as a whole, I adored it in chunks. "Summer Holiday," Chinatown," and "O, Lilac" will stay in rotation on my iPod for a long time, providing three-minute voyages into an era of big hair and ecstatic heartache.

Article first published as Music Review: Wild Nothing - Gemini on Blogcritics.

Diwali: Gold Edition

If you are one of the haters who thinks that all reggae sounds the same, then volume #27 in Greensleeve's Rhythm Album series will prove your point. A uniquely Jamaican phenomenon, one-rhythm albums are compilations of tracks built around the same rhythm (ie riddim or beat). In other words, they are collections of songs that all sound pretty much the same.
"Pretty much" but not entirely the same, and therein lies the appeal of one-rhythm albums: their ability to offer different variations on the same musical foundation. It's a testament to the resourcefulness and ingenuity of Jamaican artists and producers, and proof that a little copyright infringement can be great for creativity.
The Diwali: Gold Edition offers 22 takes by 21 artists on Lenky's Diwali rhythm. The key to a successful rhythm album is starting off with good source material, and the Diwali beat is rock solid. Built around handclaps, it's a galloping, tribal beat with an Indian flair that manages not to wear out it's welcome over the course of the album.
The beat first came into prominence in 2002, and was used in both Sean Paul's "Get Busy" and Lumidee's "Never Leave You," both included here. It was also used in slow jams like Wayne Wonder's "No Letting Go" and Crissy D.'s "Make It Real Good."

The majority of the tracks, however, feature DJ's riffing over the rhythm. Sometimes this is mind-numbing, like on "Party Time" with Danny English and Egg Nog, but it's mostly done well. Tanya Stephens gives a harsh verbal beatdown to an ex on "Can't Touch Me No More;" Bounty Killer spits some righteous anger on "Sufferer;" Elephant Man manages to work in "99 Red Balloons" on his "Elephant Message;" and Spragga Benz sounds suitably off the rails on "Gonna Fight."

I liked the DJ tracks the best, partially because I like the dancehall style more. They also seemed to stay truest to what I feel the essence of dancehall is: letting the DJ work over an existing riddim until it is entirely his/her own. Mega Banton only adds a few musical touches to the Diwali beat on "It's OK," but he owns it with his melodic chanting.

The album ends with Lenky's "Xm24," as well as an unadulterated version of the beat so that any aspiring producers/DJs can take their own stab at it. Admittedly, 22 songs in row built around the same rhythm is a little hard to take in one sitting, but it's enjoyable a few songs at a time. If you are curious about one rhythm albums, or can't get enough of the Diwali beat, this disc is a good place to start.

Article first published as Music Review: Diwali: Gold Edition on Blogcritics.

Sizzla Review

I did a review of Sizzla's latest, Crucial Times, for Blogcritics last week. It was one of the first contemporary Jamaican deejay records I had listened to, and while I wasn't in love with all of it, I really liked a few songs, like "Precious Gift," where he combined the melody of reggae with the bark of dancehall. In fact, I think I've used that expression in every reggae review I've written. Time to explore some new adjectives.

Antlers/Phantogram Review

I saw the Antlers with Phantogram last Saturday. It sort of confirmed that I'm not a huge Antlers fan, although I thought they were good live. Chatty-ass crowd. I wrote a review of it at Blogcritics, here, In
what I hope will be a return to regular writing for that site and RapReviews.

Here's an NPR video of them playing live at the Black Cat in DC. 

Byron Lee and the Dragonaires Revew

Originally posted on Blogcritics.org
Byron Lee and the Dragonaires
The Man and His Music
VP Records

Byron Lee holds a conflicted place in Jamaican music history. On one hand, he and his band, the Dragonaires, are credited with bringing ska to the outside world. As the backing band at the 1964 New York World's Fair, Lee and his band were most Americans' and Europeans' first introduction the the infectious sounds coming from Jamaica. On the other hand, Lee's contemporaries in the reggae and ska scene looked down upon him as being too uptown and posh, disconnected from the dance hall culture that was the focal point of Jamaican music. In some ways Lee is a Pat Boone figure, someone who brought an underground music form to a larger audience, but is criticized with sanitizing it in the process.
The new two-disc set, The Man and His Music, is a powerful defense of Byron Lee's musical legacy. True, Byron Lee's ska isn't as raw or earthy as the music produced by people like Desmond Dekker, Prince Buster, or the Skatalites. However, the uptown gloss that earned him scorn by his contemporaries has aged well. There is a breezy tropicalia feel to Lee's early work. The Dragonaires, while polished, were also talented musicians, and they captured the energy and excitement that makes early ska so timeless. Uptown or no, songs like "Soul Ska" and "Holly Holy" deserve a place among the canon of classic ska tracks.
Ska was only one of Byron Lee's many phases, however. He also experimented with rocksteady, and once he realized that the ska crowd weren't too accepting of him, he began to play calypso. That phase is represented in this collection by songs like "Sandra" and "No Love No Money," both performed by The Mighty Sparrow. Lee dabbled in lounge music, offering island-tinged versions of country western and easy listening songs like "Only A Fool" and "Empty Chair." He also did some convincing reggae, as evidenced by "Sunday Coming" and "Thinking of You." Toots Hibbert turns up to do a version of "54/46 That's My Number" that proves that Byron Lee and his band could do more than passable roots reggae.
In the eighties the band changed directions yet again, this time playing soca, a dancier version of calypso. All of the album covers from this period feature half naked women on tropical beaches. This soca phase is heavily represented here with songs like "Dancehall Soca," "Soca Butterfly," and "Blackman Come Out To Party." The soca phase also reflects a change in production quality and instrumentation.
While his work from the sixties and seventies sounds warm if primitive, the soca music has the precise, coldly digital sound typical of eighties production. Digital instruments begin to replace analog ones, and the drummer is augmented or replaced with a drum machine. Lee had some of his biggest hits in his soca phase, but I found the songs less engaging than his earlier work, and I could have lived with one or two instead of seven or eight. His later easy listening songs would have been better left off the album altogether, and do nothing to support his musical legacy.
This two-disc, forty-eight song set collects the previously released "Essential Byron Lee along with a second disc. The discs aren't arranged chronologically, which would have been helpful for an artist whose career spanned so many decades. Instead, there are sometimes jarring contrasts of musical styles and production quality. Ska songs from the early sixties are sequenced next to glossy soca numbers from the eighties, which are followed by seventies reggae, which in turn are followed by easy listening from the nineties. It doesn't make for the smoothest listening experience. Even with the dubious sequencing, The Man and His Music is a comprehensive introduction to an artist who never quite got the respect he deserved, and a worthwhile listen for any fan of Jamaican ska.

Alborosie Review

Originally published on Blogcritics.org

lborosie, aka Alberto D'Ascola, is a Sicilian-born reggae artist. He started performing reggae in the early nineties with the Reggae National Tickets, and has relocated to Kingston, Jamaica to be closer to the music and the home of rastafari culture. He released his debut solo album, Soul Pirate, in 2008, and a different version of this album,Escape from Babylon in 2009 via 101 Distribution. This version, with a longer title and slightly different tracklist, is being released via the venerated reggae label Greensleeves.

The idea of a Sicilian rasta isn't as big a stretch as it might initially seem. The most convincing Italian hip hop artists are from the South, so it makes sense that the South would produce convincing reggae artists as well. Sicilian is it's own language, only partially related to Italian, so learning a patois of English wouldn't have been hard for Alborosie, who grew up knowing two languages, and knowing the power that the unofficial language holds. Like Jamaica, Sicily is a relatively poor island, looked down upon by the mainland. Both islands are full of gangsters, both have strong cultural traditions, and both places understand what it is to struggle to survive.

Alborosie is also the real deal in every respect. He's a rastafarian, he sings in unaccented Jamaican patois, and he understands the music and the culture. He's also a talented musician, playing many of the instruments on the album. He combines the musicality of roots reggae with the harder electronic edge of dancehall, and his voice switches between the bark of a dancehall toaster and the soulful singing of a roots artist. Songs like "Humbleness" and "Dung A Babylon" show off his gentler side, while "Blue Movie Boo" pulses with a frenetic rhythm.

He makes his connection to roots reggae explicit by sampling Horace Andy on "Money" and "No Cocaine," and in his lyrics, which are steeped in rastafari philosophy. He sings about rastafari concerns such as praising the herb ("No Cocaine), criticizing materialism ("Money"), and criticizing Babylon. At times it feels like Rasta 101, and most of this is turf that has been covered many times before by countless reggae artists. Even the title is generic rasta. That's not to say that it's not authentic or heartfelt, but it doesn't break much new ground, and feels cliche at times. One exception is "America," a different take on Babylon that calls out America for it's infractions against the world.

Escape from Babylon to the Kingdom of Zion may not have the most original lyrical content, but it is solid musically. Alborosie manages to stay true to classic reggae while incorporating modern elements. The result is 18 songs that have the soul and melody of roots reggae with the harder edge of dancehall, proving reggae's place in the 21st century.

Toro Y Moi Review

Toro Y Moi
Causers of This
Carpark Records

(Originally posted on Blogcritics)
Toro Y Moi is the alter ego of 23-year-old Chaz Bundick, who hails from Columbia, South Carolina. Causers of This is his debut album, although Toro Y Moi has existed as a bedroom project for ten years. It's chillwave in the vein of Neon Indian, and on paper at least both Bundick and Neon Indian's Adam Palomo have a lot in common. They both live in the South, they both have backgrounds in arts (Paloma studies film and Bundick studied graphic design), they are both influenced by 80s music and yet are too young to remember that decade, and they both embrace their retro/dated influences lovingly and without much irony.

Toro Y Moi offers a softer edge to Neon Indian's jagged drugginess. The music is a conglomeration of 80s R&B and new wave, 90s shoegaze, and a little Y2k hip hop. There is a sterile funkiness to Toro Y Moi that brings to mind the shoulder pads, Jheri curls, and drum machines of bands like the Time and Ready for Sheila, along with the angular hairdos and faux androgyny of the Human League and Flock of Seagulls. "Blessa," the first single, combines synth washes with a slinky keyboard groove as Bundick pines in the background "it's hard to let you in/it lets you know that I was hurt." "Minors" is dreamy synth-pop, like a computerized Slowdive. "Imprint After" is built around electric piano and Bundick's reaching falsetto.

"Lissoms" combines analog keyboards with a glitchy beat. "Fax Shadow" "Freak Love" and "Thanks Vision" go further in the glitchy direction, and lay bare Bundick's love of J Dilla. He chops up elements in the songs in the same way that Dilla chopped up samples on Donuts. "Low Shoulders" references the sounds of 80s, but gives them a healthy infusion of contemporary keyboard effects. It's all performed with sincerity, and you never get the feeling that Bundick is trading on cheap irony. As with Neon Indian, the dated sounds are tools and not punchlines.

Bundick's voice is fine when it's buried in the mix or manipulated with effects, but it's not strong enough to stand on its own, as it does on "Low Shoulders and "Causers of This." Listeners will find his voice either endearingly honest or amateurish. Either way it's not a dealbreaker, but it made me realize that there was probably a reason why Kevin Shields' voice was buried so deep on all of My Bloody Valentine's songs. Also, like My Bloody Valentine's Loveless, or the Cocteau Twins' music, Causers of This is more a collection of sounds and moods than actual songs. There is an ethereal quality the music that makes easy to enjoy but difficult to grasp. After multiple listens the songs began to bleed together, becoming one continuous blur rather than eleven distinct tracks.

Causers of This melds its diverse influences into a concoction that is dreamy, filled with longing, and balances the nostalgic sounds of analog synthesizers with ideas borrowed from contemporary electronic music and instrumental hip hop. It is also further proof that there just might be legs to this whole chillwave thing. At the very least Toro Y Moi are worth listening to, and make an enjoyable soundtrack to a lazy Sunday morning.
(Photo by Bryan Bush)

"Blessa"

Leif Vollebekk Review

My review of Leif Vollebekk's Inland is up at Blogcritics.org now.

He's a Canadian singer/songwriter who does quirky folk ala Devendra Banhart.
Here he is playing "Don't Go Back to Klaksvik" live whilst a crowd talks over him. Nice to know that Canadian audiences are as noisy and disrespectful as Californian ones.