Beck - Modern Guilt

If Beck was a candy, he’d be Lik-M-Aid Fun Dip. And Modern Guilt would be the green apple flavor.
Modern Guilt, released in July of 2008 and co-produced by Danger Mouse, is good, solid Beck with a tinge of satisfyingly sour undertones. Beck has taken a radical departure from the upbeat, blue raspberry dance-pop of Guero and The Information and begun to claim his inner emo self. But unlike the overbearing love junkie of Sea Change, the angsty Beck of Modern Guilt is spiritually introspective, almost meditative, and an air of ethical consciousness that would make Lennon or Dylan proud has taken center stage.
Listening to the rather apocalyptic lyrics a little too intently might leave you emotionally exhausted: “Gamma Ray” contemplates the precarious state of the environment, while “Chemtrails” considers the conspiracy theory that jet trails consist of government-engineered chemical sprays. Fortunately, the grim and apathetic vocals are projected against an aural landscape that serves as the album’s saving grace: characterized by a heavy handed neo-rock sound that manages to be captivating—downright danceable—thanks to simple, primal melodies, pulsating bass beats, and looped electronics, fusing psychedelic and profound into a hybrid of happy and sad.
The album opens with “Orphans” in a dreamy haze of acoustic guitar and ethereal flutes peppered with the deliciously sublime vocal harmonies of Cat Power’s Chan Marshall. The following two tracks—“Gamma Ray” and “Chemtrails”—both released as singles—continue in a strong suit: the tinny tambourine and chugging guitar of the former urges the listener to guilt-fully dance along to proclamations of heat waves and melting ice caps, while the latter boasts melodramatic vocals, metallic snares and a delicate, piquant piano. The momentum carries through the album’s title track, “Modern Guilt”, in which the singer’s lulling vocals perfectly complement thick percussion infused with Wurlitzer-esque melodies. The funk-soul brother side of Beck, which seems to make its way onto most albums, has made a robust appearance in “Youthless”, whose lyrics dwell on increased disparity and misunderstanding between generations. “Youthless” easily stands out the album’s gem: a super catchy bass line, particularly punked-out, tristful vocals, and healthy dose of Atari-inspired electronica make the track worthy of a mod dance party aboard a UFO.
The following five tracks continue to boast provocative, ear-catching guitar rhythms and poignantly layered, oscillating vocals, but it’s clear that the first five take the cake. “Replica” accosts the listener with an intense and repetitive bass/drums duo that might leave you in a trance, and the twangy guitar slides alone on “Soul of a Man” lead one to wonder: has Beck really abandoned us for that redneck heavy metal we hoped would only be confined to monster truck shows? The album’s final track, “Volcano”, is marked by gloomy Elliott Smith-like vocals that leave a little bit of an aftertaste in your mouth. Kind of like a sour apple.

by Caroline Schepker

Look on the Bright Side

Ah yes, it's that time again. When New York Times photagraphers elbow through crowds to snap pictures of the once proud lions of finance holding their heads in dismay. Makes no difference to me. The closest I've come to investing is walking out of a used record store with an armful of vinyl...and last I checked the value of that Emerson Lake and Palmer Official Bootleg Series from the Manticore Vaults: Volume 2 box set is still climbing...

Well, anyway, here's the best song about the rough and tumble world of Wall Street that may be coming to an end.



The originators are the English art-pop jokesters 10cc, who released a classic sequence of tin-pan alley informed singles in the early 70s. Named after an above average measurement of male ejaculate (seriously), they contained two competing songwriting teams, with Graham Gouldman and Eric Stewart providing the more commercial tunes and Kevin Godley and Lol Creme providing the more bizarre efforts. Godley and Creme grew tired of the other duo's sappier efforts and quit after 1976's How Dare You, thus ending the salad days of one of the few truly rewarding novelty bands in rock.

Okkervil River - The Stand Ins

The Stand Ins, Austin-based indie-band Okkervil River’s fifth full-length album and follow-up to 2007’s The Stage Names, is a testament to frontman Willl Sheff’s multitasking abilities. Collaborating with former Okkervil River bandmate Jonathan Meiburg on side project Shearwater since 2001 and performing solo has obviously not dissipated the band's power as they've come up with another winner.
The album unfolds itself as an artistic endeavor that does not adhere to any one genre. The opening anthem “Lost Coastlines” is an ideal blend of folk and melodic indie pop; “Singer Songwriter” intersperses similar layers of twang with some pop punk guitar upstrokes. The Stand Ins’ most musically mature moment comes with “Starry Stairs,” a four-minute slinkier, slower and jazzier track that melds Okkervil River’s familiar guitar riffs with strings and horns to great effect.
Arguably Okkervil River’s greatest asset is Sheff’s songwriting abilities; as a lyricist, he taps into universal emotions – love, loneliness, fame and despair, to name a few – with clever wordplay to spare. As a musician, he architects listener-friendly melodies whose innovation merely acts in concert with their accessibility.
As a vocalist, the rich, charismatic quality of Sheff’s voice is both a strength and a weakness, somewhat endearing and yet almost too lovestruck-emo-boy to take seriously. Similarly, the Stand Ins loses its initial steam about halfway through; “Blue Tulip” is an epic poem of a song and “Pop Lie” fails to build upon the album’s previous creativity and instead adheres to a basic formula.
But the Stand Ins regains its strength and ends on a high-note; the album’s closing track “Bruce Wayne Campbell Interview On the Roof of the Chelsea Hotel, 1979” slowly but surely leads to a musical climax that demonstrates Sheff’s ability to write songs that have a distinct beginning, middle and end, songs that lead to somewhere entirely different from where they started.
All in all, the Stand Ins fails to venture deep into any uncharted musical territory, but its journey into the depths of eclectic pop-rock is nothing short of a pleasant forty minute voyage.




(and check out Sheff's knee slappingly witty cover of Big Star's "Big Black Car" from the Black Cab Sessions.)



-Katie Lindstedt

Ra Ra Riot-The Rhumb Line

Despite the summer weather we have been enjoying lately, a quiet hour’s breeze whispers that the seasons are changing. If the xylophones and afro-drumming on your Vampire Weekend album begin to ring hollow, autumnal refuge can be found in Ra Ra Riot’s debut album, The Rhumb Line. The Syracuse-based band is equal parts VW and Arcade Fire, fusing the former’s pop sensibilities with the melodramatic mood swings of the latter. Rhumb Line falls in line with indie’s recent chamber pop trend—-the album begins with impatient cello strokes and violin plucks over a Joy Division-inspired drum line—-and it plays within the genre adeptly if somewhat cautiously.
Ra Ra Riot is linked to Providence by tragedy: drummer/songwriter John Pike was found dead after a concert here last summer. Yet the band has managed to move on successfully from this loss, largely on account of the strength of its component parts. Frontman Wes Miles impressively manipulates his intonation throughout the album, playfully riding the falsetto line while reserving the right to dip into a low tenor when it suits him. He may be at his warbling best in the band’s cover of Kate Bush’s “Suspended in Gaffa” (he even manages to channel a bit of Bowie, at one point as he sings "I'm scared of the changes" over mounting bass drum hits). The strings carry the load in most of the album’s best songs, leading the ear through a diverse landscape marked by harmony and dissonance, languor and exultation.
The elements are all in place for something great, but the band never quite puts them all together on Rhumb Line. The first single, “Dying Is Fine” (a nod to the e.e. cummings poem), is quite good, as are a number of the other early songs. But the album lacks a definitive coup de grace, and it unravels at the tail end with a couple of uninspired tracks. If you’re looking for new music, this is an album to try on for size. And keep an eye on Ra Ra Riot as they move beyond the death of Pike—-who wrote their stronger songs—-and continue to evolve. At the moment they appear to be a band that is more interesting in concert than on record. Fortunately for us, they are swinging through New York and Boston in mid-October.



4/5

-Samuel Allen

Krautrock Sampler

Music geeks like us (and you, we know this isn't the only music blog you read) live, breath and eat this stuff up. I've long since stopped watching films that aren't about music, or at least have bitchin' soundtracks. Shit, most of the music I listen to is about rock n roll nowadays (thank you The Hold Steady). Recently, I've even given up books that don't contain references to mythical concerts and long out of print singles.

Well here, my friends is one of the holy grails of music books. Ex-leader of British psychedelic standouts, The Teardrop Explodes, Julian Cope found it disconcerting that the public at large did not share his taste for Krautrock. An endearing term for German rock in the 60's and 70's that resembled an unholy combination of Pink Floyd, The Velvet Underground, and the Krupps steelworks, the genre had been briefly influential as post-punk rose from the mouldering body of The Sex Pistols, but had by the mid-90's become an interesting footnote. His solution was a book which explained the history and social context of the West German music scene of the era, with tales and commentary on bands like Can, Faust, Neu!, Kraftwerk, and Amon Düül II.

Did this book single handedly influence Radiohead to abandon rock music as we know it during the Kid A sessions? Probably not, but when your favorite band starts pulling shit like Wilco's "Less Than You Think", you only have Julian Cope to blame.









(You could either spend upwards of $174 dollars on this out of print book, or enjoy the semi-legal, until we hear otherwise pdf courtesy of Swan Fungus. Make your pick. If you are joining the dark side, click on the post's title for the jump.)

Not-so-New Music Alert: Arthur Russell (by Juan Ruiz)

Chances are you’ve never heard of Arthur Russell. Up until his death in 1992, his music was relatively unknown outside of the New York music scene that embraced his brilliant fusion of cello with experimental electronic rock and orchestral music. The apex of his career was his third studio album, 1986’s World of Echo, an epic 18-song masterpiece that highlights his masterful blending of genres like classical, jazz, and dance.
Thankfully, a post-mortem surge of interest in his music has uncovered many gems he’d written and recorded that had never seen the light of day. Since his death, four full length albums and one EP of his music have been released; one of his songs, “This Is How We Walk on the Moon,” appeared in a UK T-Mobile commercial last year. Finally, a documentary about his life entitled Wild Combination: A Portrait of Arthur Russell was released in 2008 to great critical success.

Songs to check out:
“A Little Lost,” Another Thought, 1994. A harmonious pop song that incorporates Russell’s cello and acoustic guitar into a poignant, lush love ballad with beautiful images and stirring calls of affection.
“She's the Star/ I Take This Time,” World of Echo, 1986. A minimalist electronic rock track reminiscent of Radiohead’s work on Kid A and Amnesiac, albeit a bit more lyrically conventional. Simply incredible.
“That’s Us / Wild Combination,” Calling Out of Context, 2004. If you like synth-based indie pop, you’ll love this track. Russell shows that he can write cross-genre songs with the best of them, highlighted here by a beautiful fusion of pop and electronic sounds.

Fall Concert Preview: Providence (by Eva Kurtz-Nelson and Bob Short)

Diplo at Jerky's Bar and Grill, September 13: Diplo hasn't received the attention from collegiate music junkies heaped upon Girl Talk and the like, but he quietly produced key tracks on two of the most innovative albums in recent memory- M.I.A.'s Kala and Santogold's self-titled debut while also finding the time to release his own Top Ranking mixtape. Come see the uncrowned king of a genre we will conveniently name "hipster dance" and expect to learn a thing or two while you jump around.

The Kooks at Lupo's Heartbreak Hotel, September 14: With a name cribbed from the back of Hunky Dory (couldn't they at least have picked "Queen Bitch"?) and an album named after Ray Davies studio, it's little wonder that this young band is in thrall to the fondly remembered myth of classic British rock n roll. Like many of these bands, they record great singles (like "Naïve" from 2006) but are less successful filling up their albums. They have enough material to banish the filler to the sound check and enough energy to make the singles sparkle, so until that "Best of" comes out, the best light to see this band in will be the stage lights at Providence's busiest venue.

Nas at Lupo’s, September 19: Whether he’s fanning the flames of his beef with Fox News and Bill O’Reilly on The Colbert Report or adopting and then discarding a controversial title for his now untitled new album, legendary rapper Nas has been getting plenty of publicity lately. Don’t expect too many party jams at this show; instead, you’ll get complicated rhymes about politics and racism that demand your full attention.

Ben Folds at The Bank of America City Center, September 25: Three years ago Ben Folds released his most mature album yet. Since then he's gotten divorced, fallen off a stage in Japan, and apparently rediscovered the joy of unapologetically sophomoric lyrics for his piano-pop opuses. No complaints here-his best albums have split time between the crushing disappointments of adulthood and the dumb joys of adolescence. His visit to Providence comes less than a week before the release of Way to Normal, look for a healthy dose of new material from America's most consistent tunesmith.

TV on the Radio at Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel, October 11: By the time TV on the Radio gets to Providence, they’ll be riding the wave of their highly anticipated new album Dear Science, (the comma’s not a typo, promise). Grammatical idiosyncrasies aside, all signs point to awesome, which makes seeing this quirky-cool, genre-hopping group a must. Like TV on the Radio’s music, their show promises to include a little bit of everything—highs, lows, sweetness, fury, and plenty of satisfaction.

Hanson at Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel, October 16: Yep, that Hanson. Officially indie since 2001, the brothers are touring like mad and raising money to fight AIDS and help the poor in Africa. While you can certainly argue with the unfortunate facial hair some of the boys are sporting these days, you can’t argue with that. One question, though: Think they’ll play “MMMbop”?

Iron and Wine at Lupo’s Heartbreak Hotel, November 16: Get ready to get mellow. Like, really mellow. While there’s no doubt that Sam Beam is talented, this show runs a grave risk of being stricken with the “he’s been playing the same song for an hour” curse. If you’re looking for a stress reliever, however, this might be the concert for you. Moshing is not suggested.

Kanye's Love Lockdown

The unquestionable highlight of MTV's Video Music Awards was the debut of the first single from Kanye West's next album, an entry into the autotune sweepstakes entitled "Love Lockdown". Yes hip hop heads, there is absolutely no rapping, and yes it does make T-Pain sound like Tupac-but that isn't the point. From the beginning Kanye's strength was not his rapping, it was making records, pure and simple. This track, which contains absolutely none of his endearingly clumsy verses is not Kayne "going pop". Rather, he's just making different kinds of records.


Does that mean it's good? Not necessarily. While his vocals show a very different perspective from even Graduation, the production seems strangely detached from the proceedings. There's the disembodied kick drum, the feverish marching snare, and the same strident piano we heard on "Homecoming", but nothing brings the track together, not even Kanye himself. He carries the tune better than what might be expected, but he's no Cee-Lo or Andre 3000. And this isn't the kind of genre dissolving single one might hope for.




The album 808's and Hearbreak is currently slated for a December 16th release.

The Low Anthem Comes Up With Another Winner

The Low Anthem
Oh My God, Charlie Darwin

At Firehouse 13 last Friday, The Low Anthem made the case for resurgent Northeastern folk with a celebratory set that transcended the sound problems in the sweaty art gallery. During the gutsy, propulsive set by Ben Pilgrim and the Free Union Band and the beautiful fragility of Annie Lynch and the Beekeepers, Ben Miller and Jeffrey Prystowsky acted as gregarious hosts as the crowd washed down free pizza with cheap beer. Finally at almost 11, Ben and Jeff joined Jocie Adams and a new drummer to debut their new album and highlights from last year's What the Crow Brings to an adoring crowd.

Don't worry too much if you missed the show though-their sophomore release Oh My God, Charlie Darwin is a deep record that holds up on car radios as well as it did on a cramped stage. It is definitely cut from the same melodic cloth as its predecessor, but The Low Anthem are taking more chances stylistically and lyrically. The words dwell in the duality between urban and rural America-perfect for a combo that recorded in Block Island but came home to Providence. "The Horizon is A Beltway" brings the imagery of apocalyptic folk into the skyscraper age with the doom-laden refrain of "the skyline's on fire" over wheezing harmonica. Elsewhere, "To Ohio" displays Ben Miller's beautiful vocals and Jeff Prystowsky's tasteful bass.

After several listens, their cover of Tom Waits' "Home I'll Never Be" emerges as the album's centerpiece. It sounds like an aging field recording made in the kind of bar that doesn't exist anymore. I almost wish they had recorded the Uncle Tupelo meets Rolling Stones barnburner of a rendition they played at Firehouse 13, but it's of little use to second guess a band like this. They know where they're going.

4.5/5

Mudhoney: Two Decades of Fuzz

This summer, venerable Seattle indie label Sub Pop celebrated their 22nd anniversary in a very unconventional way-they celebrated their 20th anniversary. Formed by Bruce Pavitt and Jonathon Poneman, the imprint was the original home of grunge bands like Nirvana and Soundgarden before their recent revival thanks to The Shins, Wolf Parade and The Postal Service. The July fete was highlighted by Iron and Wine and Fleet Foxes sets, but many were undoubtedly a little surprised to see a long forgotten band by the name of Mudhoney electrify the afternoon crowd.




Two decades removed from the genesis of that swampy blend of punk attitude and metal speed, it is amazing that grunge hasn't received the reassessment that has visited other genres. Whether it be because Kurt Cobain froze the subculture in amber upon his suicide, or that the public still suffers from alt-rock exhaustion, there has been little effort to seperate the wheat from the chaff in a genre that had as many posers and hangers on as true innovators.

To those familiar with their work, it is mind boggling that Mudhoney-a band with almost no ambition to speak of, and even less interest in writing actual songs- could possibly be the zenith of grunge form. But indeed, in 2008 the drums on Nevermind seem soulless, the lyrics to Ten seem amateur, and everything about Alice in Chains seems contrived. But twenty years after their debut single, Mudhoney stands as a testament to the power of big, dumb rock n roll. Unlike most bands who claimed to be influenced by The Stooges, Mudhoney put into practice the idea of rock as unstructured music that relied on charismatic vocal adlibbing and sloppy riffage. Their first b-side, a track called "Touch Me I'm Sick" that briefly made them a cause celebre in the English music papers, is nothing more than a fiendishly distorted guitar line adorned with some demented howling on the part of Mark Arm. But then what was "Louie Louie"? Or "I Wanna Be Your Dog"? One of the most fascinating paradoxes in popular culture is that exciting nexus of low brow and high brow, where almost anything can happen. So before the press lionizes the next Art Brut or Black Lips or any other deceptively simple, high concept rock band, put in a Mudhoney disc, slip on a flannel button-up, and party like it's 1988.