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Thursday, January 31, 2008
Festival 71 Revisited
I brought my camera and took no pictures. I had my notebook, but barely wrote any notes. I did catch eight out of the ten Cleveland and Columbus bands on the bill for Festival 71. Number 11 never materialized, and I have it on good authority (and by good authority I mean the loud dude at the bar) that of the two bands I missed, Sun God f'n ruled.
Other observations from Festival 71:
*Pink Reason = Rad. The highlight of their set had to be the slo-mo, drunk on robo, folk cover of Agent Orange's punk classic "Bloodstains."
*Sword Heaven = The sound my 86 Plymouth Voyager made as it was dying on I-75 midway between Bowling Green and Toledo. That's a compliment, btw.
*The Cleveland artist who most deserves a do-over: Brian Straw. Unfortunately for Straw, his set was plagued by a misbehaving sound system intent on cutting out his acoustic guitar.
*Two Cleveland bands who shredded through their 20 minute sets who I'd rather see shred live than listen to on disc: The Deathers and The Homostupids. The Deathers played technically strong set of unironic hardcore, the type of which you listened to when you were 18. Yet, they're not 18. They're older dudes have a blast ripping through old style tunes. The Homostupids, meanwhile, were loud, and their mega levels of feedback and reverb were really harsh. The crowd went absolutely apesh*t for these dudes, and hell, I'd pay to see them again, but I can't see myself sitting down with The Homostupids after a tough day of work. I've got enough stress in my life.
Cheer Up, Frightened Rabbit. Why are you so glum? I've never been to Scotland, but the rain can't be as bad as a Cleveland winter. We barely see the sun for months and everything's varying shades of gray and beige, and we seem to hold it together. Ah, so it's a woman who's got you down, making you feel all crippled and decrepit. Fair enough. You know what makes me feel better when I'm bummin'? Guitars. There you go, plug 'em in, rev 'em up, just like you did on "The Greys." Kill those blahs in the chorus with layered and loud guitars. Are we doing better now? I thought so.
Recent coverage by Aversion and Idolator brought me back to The Shackletons, a band first covered on I Rock Cleveland way back in August 06. Since that time, they signed a deal with KEXP Dj, John Richards' Loveless Records, and have just recently released their self titled disc. Due to multiple hard drive failures over the course of a year and a half, I can neither confirm nor deny that this is the save version of "Your Movement" previously featured here, but I suspect that its been cleaned up and pumped up for the album. The guitars certainly sound more prevalent when they rage in the chorus, the bass sounds a bit bouncier, and vocalist Mark Redding's delivery has been sharpened to a preachy punk rock tone, similar to Ian McKaye's style during his Fugazi days. Whether "Your Movement" is indeed the "Your Movment" of my memories, it doesn't change the fact that this one's been stuck on repeat over the past few days.
There's so much wrong with Vampire Weekend, where do you start? For one, with comfortable backgrounds and Ivy League educations, they're too privileged. And those oxford shits they wear are always nicely pressed. They're too preppy. It's like they're slumming with us common people as they drive from town to town and play shows. Maybe they don't even drive themselves when they visit places like Cleveland, Columbus, or Cincinnati. I bet they have a chauffeur and a limousine, and an ironing board set up inside the limousine to keep their oxfords crisp. No, I bet they go farther than that. They have a network of dry cleaners from coast to coast pressing, and starching, and hanging their shirts on hangers so they don't wrinkle, and during the day when they're lounging in nice hotel rooms, sipping no whip, sugar-free, soy vanilla lattes from Starbucks, and tracking their investments on their fancy wireless notebooks, the chauffeur in the limousine goes out and picks up their dry cleaning on the hangers and brings it up to the hotel room and hangs it in a closet. What new band can afford such luxury? Most musicians I know are happy to have a van that runs and maybe some clean socks.
Then, there's the music – The Police, Paul Simon, Peter Gabriel, and ska, too. With those preppy, privileged lives and all that money us common folk will never see, that's the best they could do? Didn't they learn anything at Columbia? Those influences are all wrong. Where's the Sonic Youth? Where's the Velvet Underground, Pavement, and Guided by Voices?
Now, as if all that isn't bad enough, get a load of this -- on this song "Walcott," they talk about escaping Cape Cod as if life and limb depended on it. Ooh, that's rough. How about you spend some time in the St. Clair-Superior neighborhood, and then tell me how bad you had it on the Cape.
Everything about Vampire Weekend seems so wrong (Even the stuff I can't verify to be true like the limousines, investments, hotel rooms, dry cleaners, no whip, sugar-free vanilla lattes from Starbucks, and the part about being well-off). That is, until you actually listen to their debut disc, and you learn these Columbia kids know a thing or two about crafting clean melodies and writing catchy songs. They work world sounds so effortlessly into the mix that it feels uncalculated, almost naive, and instead of obscuring a melody in pitched, trebly feedback, or awkward, overloaded arrangements, they openly embrace it. You don't need to know what an "Oxford Comma" is, or when to use it properly, to appreciate vocalist Ezra Koenig's easy croon, drummer Christopher Tomson's Stewart Copeland-like staggered beat, and how it builds gracefully from simple to splendid. Then, consider "Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa," the number responsible for the vast majority of those Paul Simon Graceland comparisons, where Koenig displays his acute understanding of African guitar melodies over Tomson and bassist Chris Biao's full, dynamic rhythms replete with congas and bongos.
Additionally, they have a firm grasp of restraint and a keen ear for detail, knowing the exact moment to switch up the beat, drop the bass and guitar from the mix, or liven things up with a flourish of strings. Sometimes, it's nothing more than the drummer switching to the off-beat for the second verse, while other times, as on the introduction to "M79," the effect is more dramatic, as you're greeted by the uncommonly, regal sounds of harpsichord and a small string section, before the song pulls back to nothing more than bass and drums for the start of the first verse. Here, each instrument, including guitar and keys, has its own turn in the spotlight, as they politely make way for the next lead, until the violin emerges as the real star, crisply darting up and down the scale. Similarly, closing number, "The Kids Don't Stand a Chance," alternates its main melody between bass, guitar, keys, harpsichord, and strings, one at a time, up to the final movement where they're carefully overlapped.
Suddenly, secondary topics like image, upbringing, authenticity, hype, and the inevitable backlash seem insignificant. If it's about the music, and it should be about the music, Vampire Weekend's debut is nearly as good as they come. Even if the middle section of "Campus","Bryn," and "One (Blakes Got a New Face)" sags a bit, that still leaves eights songs with single potential. In past years, that would be enough to give them two years in the spotlight. Now, let's hope everyone gives these kids a chance before moving on to the next big thing.
What can you learn from a name? When the band name is (I'm not making this up) Joe Lean and the Jing Jang Jong, not much. However, when that name in question is The Gutter Twins, the new side project by alt-rcok veterans Greg Dulli (Afghan Whigs) and Mark Lanegan (Screaming Trees), a lot can be learned from their chosen personas. Think about it, The Gutter Twins, you just know it's gonna be devious, dirty, and skeezy. So, it may not be a surprise when the opening notes of "Idle Hands," deliver the sleaze with a sexy boogie beat, ominous strings, and dark, brooding vocals, but damn, does it sound good.
The Gutter Twins will release Saturnalia March 4th on Subpop, and for the locals, they have a concert scheduled at the Beachland Ballroom on Wednesday, March 12th.
Times New Viking to Headline Festival 71 This Saturday Night
It would have to take something special to make me miss a Supersuckers show on a Saturday night, and Radio Dystopia's Festival 71 is just that kind of event -- eleven noise, art, punk, and artsy, noisy punk bands from Cleveland and Columbus playing both rooms at the Beachland with Columbus' Times New Viking closing the night on the Ballroom stage.
Way back in 97, Stuart Lupton and his band Jonathan Fire*Eater were tipped as the next big thing. You may have missed it. They went from next big thing to band implosion before they ever had the chance to fulfill their unrealistic hype. Three members of Jonathan Fire*Eater would go on to form the core of The Walkmen, while Lupton went on to parts unknown (not a band, mind you, but that place musicians go when they're out of the music scene). Ten years on, Lupton has finally re-emerged with a new group, The Child Ballads, a soon to be released, EP, Cheekbone Hollows (Pop. 1/2 Life), and expectations that are considerably lower than the first time around. His voice still has a bit of that Jagger-like Swagger in it, but this time around, he's not shooting to be a rock star, instead, he's more than content to just kick back with a nice, worn-out dusty groove.
Biirdie's latest long player, Catherine Avenue, is hanging out on my hard drive somewhere, but I've yet to listen to it. I still can't get past this one song, "Him." It's gotten to the point where I'm not sure I'll ever listen to the rest of the disc. What if the other nine songs change my opinion of "Him?" You see, it's one of those perfect pop songs -- building slowly, gradually adding harmonies and instruments on each subsequent verse until it bursts with moogy gleefulness.
Oh, holy mother of rock, Black Mountain slays. F*ckin' A, do they slay. The guitars on "Tyrants" and "Bright Lights" are some of the biggest and baddest around. Yet, their ability to ROCK (all caps for emphasis) is not what makes In the Future one of the essential Rock 'N' Roll albums of this decade. Neither is it the voice of Amber Webber. As a foil to guitarist/vocalist Stephen McBean, and sometimes lead, her haunting, ethereal calls are wicked enough to wake the dead, but they're not responsible for making this album a classic. No, it's their patience. Yes, you read that right, it's their patience. Although they trade in the music of the devil, they are blessed with the patience of saints, never rushing themselves to the big pay off. Amid all of the Pink Floyd keyboard salutes, and all of the gigantic guitar explosions, they retain a keen sense of balance, knowing when to keep a groove breathing barely above the murky, mucky muck and when to hit the pedals and rattle the room with a sinister storm of sound. Blazing, then teasing. Building tension, only to let it dissipate. Lulling the listener to comfort, then abruptly unleashing a furious, evil spell. You can see the dark clouds gathering over the horizon. You can feel the bad vibes in the air. Bad sh*t's comin', and you don't know when it's gonna hit.
After Black Mountain opens In the Future with the propulsive, dirty blues of "Stormy High," you're primed for more foot stomping, head banging, fist pumping action, and then, they bring you down with the slow, dusted rhythms of "Angels." The epic, eight-minute "Tyrants" begins with a flurry of thick, hazy guitar, then it recedes. "Wucan" builds a hypnotic loop out of slinky keyboards and a smooth, simple bass line. You can feel the pressure mounting as Webber and McBean take turns delivering woozy, drugged out warnings, but the impending guitar apocalypse never comes. Consequently, it's this careful control of dynamics, as Black Mountain mix the massive with the minimal, and alternate heavy, stoner rock with Rolling Stones style country, that makes the big moments, like the triumphant, shredding return of the six string during the climax of "Tyrants" sound so large and impressive.
Ultimately, the more epic than epic, 16-and-a-half minute "Bright Lights" is the number where In the Future makes its rightful claim for transcendency. Seemingly possessed, McBean and Webber repeat their pleas of "Bright lights, bright lights, bright lights," against a backdrop of ominously, thumping percussion, and acid washed keyboards. Are they praying for their own salvation, or are they welcoming a nuclear holocaust and the end of humanity? After a rapturous display of guitar grandeur, the lights recede to reveal a scorched, barren landscape populated by wandering souls and soundtracked by four minutes of eerie keyboard explorations. At this point, you'll either be convinced that In the Future is the best rock album you've heard in years, or you'll be repulsed by the re-emergence of indulgence that punk was supposed to have killed 30 years ago. And there's still five minutes left in the song.
Needless to say, "Bright Lights" and In the Future is the stuff of legends and not some bad classic rock nightmare plaguing your psyche. Very few bands could pull this off, and if they dared to try, the progressive rock theatrics Black Mountain seamlessly weave would sound clumsy, wanky, dated, or worse. And Black Mountain not only pull it off, but they do it without sounding like Pink Floyd or Led Zeppelin or Wolfmother trying to sound like Led Zeppelin. Through it all, they sound like Black Mountain. Maybe, there's only one modern band who could make an album this grand. Black Mountain.
Now on Matador Records, Columbus, Ohio's Times New Viking are following the same trail blazed by their lo-fi forefather, Robert Pollard, and his band Guided by Voices, whose Alien Lanes was released on Matador 13 years ago. It isn't coincidence. In an interview with Stylus published shortly after Times New Viking released Present the Paisley Reich, their second album of lo-fi, fuzz pop for their former home Siltbreeze, they were asked about their courtship period and why they chose Matador over Subpop. Guitarist Jared Phillips was quick to reply, "Alien Lanes." While it would it be expected for a group from the middle of Ohio to admire the work of Pollard, just as important is how Matador handled Guided by Voices, letting them continue their adventures in lo-fidelity and not pressuring them to change their sound for the sake of marketability.
Now, implying Times New Viking haven't changed their tune, and claiming they've gone and recorded the same album the third time are not the same thing. The production is still dominated by fuzz and hiss, and recording levels are still redder than red, but as their melodies have gotten tighter and their song writing has gotten stronger, it's becoming more and more difficult for them to hide behind the snap, crackle, and pop of their trusted, busted sound.
If Times New Viking weren't so adamant in their battle against fidelity, a treble-kicking stomp like "(my head)" could pass for a number by The Pixies of The Breeders. Similarly, the fractured waves of distortion heard on "Relevant: now," do their best to conceal a modern, shoegaze style drone. Their move towards twisted pop is even more apparent on the quick one minute hits of bouncy, ragged, romping like "DROP-OUT" and "The Apt," and again on "The Early 80's" and "Another Day," where no measure of hiss can hide these paisley patterned folk songs.
At some point, Times New Viking may have to leave their trebly, hissy comfort zone, and branch out to areas of mid to hi fidelity like Guided by Voices did during their Matador career. Eliott Smith did it. Sebadoh and Pavement did it, too. Very few artists have lived their whole careers by the motto, "Lo-fi do or die," and even if the possibilities of lo-fidelity seem endless now, eventually they'll come to be constrictive. Could the thirty clear seconds tacked to the tail of "The End of All Things" signify an abandonment of their rigid style? Or, is their future foretold in closing blast of "Post Teen Drama," where the distortion and hiss is higher than at any other point on Rip It Off? The only certainty is, if and when Times New Viking do it, and record a "clean" and "proper" sounding album, it will be a move they make on their own terms.
The title says it all. Alone - The Home Recordings of Rivers Cuomo. The Weezer frontman's solo album, is neither his band's great lost album, Songs from the Black Hole (although five songs from those sessions do appear on Alone), nor is it the album that straightens out their career after two hit and miss releases in Maladroit and Make Believe. It is a collection of odds, sods, demos, and toss-offs, recorded by Cuomo throughout the past fifteen years.
For completists, Alone can be a treasure trove of old recordings, helping fill the gaps between Weezer's inactive years, but for the casual fan, it's likely to be as uneven as Weezer's recent output. For every gem like the space, inspired "Blast Off," which recalls the blue album's best guitar crunching, geek rock, while fulfilling Cuomo's dreams of an interstellar rock opera, there's a corresponding dud like "Dude We're Finally Landing," to remind you that rock operas generally aren't good ideas these days. And for every moment of wistful, innocent power pop ("Superfriends"), and every moment of vulnerable, contemplative emotion ("Longtime Sunshine") where Cuomo reminds you how talented he can be, he brings you back down to earth, and the land of diminishing returns, with boy band balladry ("This is the Way") and embarassing, Beastie Boys rapping ("The Bomb").
Did I mention that this is a collection of home recordings, and not a proper album? You shouldn't be too surprised that Alone is an inconsistent affair.
"Bad Blod," our second preview from The Big Sleep's soon to be released, Sleep Forever, finds the band further solidifying their move from crushing, post-rock to crushing rock. With bassist, Sonya Blchandan, taking the lead, the vocals are less pronounced and less dynamic than when guitarist Danny Barria is out front (as on the previously blogged "Pinkies"), placing the emphasis back on the crushing, post-rock. Admittedly, there isn't really much of a difference between The Big Sleep rocking out and The Big Sleep post-rocking out, as either way you get a big, satisfying, fuzzy storm of sound.
"Come on over bros. Grab your bongos. Grab your congas. Bring your accordions, horns, and gee-tars. We are going to jam tonight!"
It could have gone down like that.
State Bird's "The Golden Glowing Mask" certainly has that impromptu jam session feel to it, and the accompanying band photo featuring young, bare chested men in war paint screams "Freak folk." Yet, it takes a decidedly pop turn at the midway point and is wrapped up tidily in just over three-and-a-half minutes, making it one of the more economical excursions to the outer limits of the mind you're likely to encounter. How 21st Century of them! With the specter of global warming all around us, and stressed natural resources pushing gas prices higher and higher, everyone has to do their part, and these freaky folk are more than happy to cut back on extraneous solos for the good of future generations.
Mostly Ghostly by State Bird will be out February 26the on The Record Machine. Also, State Bird will be appearing as part of The Free Times two day 2008 Band to Watch showcase taking place Friday, February 8th and Saturday, February 9th at The Beachland Ballroom. Friday's show will feature Afternoon Naps, To Be a High Powered Executive, Lunavelis, Unsparing Sea, and State Bird. While On Saturday night, Living Stereo, Venomin James, MuAmin Collective, Gravity and Eternal Legacy will take the stage.
As Virgina native, Thao Nguyen's "Bag of Hammers" opens, there's all these bright, twinkling guitar tones, and her cheery, innocent voice borders on naive. It may invite relaxing scenes of mixed drinks with tiny umbrellas and sunsets on the beach, but in reality, they're hiding some hefty emotions. It's the end of the relationship and all she's left with is a bag of hammers. Note, she isn't left with ruined memories, torn up pictures, and she isn't living out of her car. Thao is the type of woman who can make do on her own, and with that bag of hammers in hand, there's the hint that she's more than capable of exacting a fair price for being wronged. Is she going to start swinging, or has she come to patch things up. I don't know the answer to that one, but I can tell you that any gal who shows up with a bag of hammers, and who can play the guitar like Thao, certainly has my respect.
My ballot (published under my real world name, William C Lipold) should look familiar, since it's identical to the top albums I published under I Rock Cleveland's Year End Extravaganza Bonanza. As a bonus, I included a year-end essay with my ballot. Ok, it's not really a bonus for those of you who don't like reading things, but I'm pretty proud of it, and I'd like to think it's worth a minute or two of your internet surfing time.
Looking at the results, I would have liked to have seen my picks place a little higher in the finals (my number one, No Age, was number 53) but when you poll 451 writers, the consensus picks are going to rise to the top while the lesser heard albums will sink in the rankings. Hence, a top five of LCD Soundsystem, MIA, Radiohead, Arcade Fire, and Amy Winehouse.
I Rock Cleveland's Top 10 of 2007: (Idolator Pop Critics Poll Rankings in parentheses)
No Age - Weirdo Rippers (53) Parts and Labor - Mapmaker (62) Gowns - Red State (158) Nina Nistasia and Jim White (158) Phosphorescent - Pride (91) Two Cow Garage - III (985) Spoon - Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga (6) Witchcraft - The Alchemist (239) Six Parts Seven - Casually Smashed to Pieces (1101) Times New Viking - Present the Paisley Reich (172)
As for my top tracks, good luck finding any of my picks in the list outside of my number 1, Grinderman's, "No Pussy Blues" which charted at #12. Jay Reatard was robbed at #140. F*cked Up was robbed at #188. I didn't bother looking much deeper. Who else would have voted for The Very Knees?
Two concerts were announced this week that fall into the must rock category: Black Mountain at The Grog Shop on March 6th and The Gutter Twins (Greg Dulli of The Afgahan Whigs and Mark Lanegan of Screaming Trees) at The Beachland Ballroom on March 12th. Lastly, if you haven't heard In The Future, the new Black Mountain disc due out next Tuesday, it's streaming now in its entirety at myspace. I'm not one for hyperbole, but seriously dudes, this may be the rock record of The Aughts.
Welcome to the state of weird, a place you may know by its more commonly used name, Oklahoma. It's the home of The Flaming Lips, the elder statesmen of weird, and consequently, the state with the highest per capita ownership of super hero costumes, confetti canons, and mega-sized balloons. It's also the home of young up-and-comers, Evangelicals, a band who certainly shares the Lips affinity for mind-warping, interstellar rock.
It's a safe bet to say that Evangelicans probably don't have as many weapons of weird at their disposal as Wayne Coyne and company, still, they can certainly turn a tune into a wide-eyed carnival of sounds. Take "Skeleton Man," from their forthcoming Dead Oceans release, The Evening Descends, a song where guitars climb up, down, and all around a vast menagerie of sounds including vintage video game tones, ghostly howls, and sinister laughter as it builds to a wild, head-spinning crescendo. Who needs confetti canons?
The Evening Descends by Evangelicals will be out January 22nd on Dead Oceans, and for the locals, they will be at the Beachland Tavern Monday, March 3rd with Headlights and Hallelujah the Hills. Evangelicals Myspace Dead Oceans
At the height of Brit Pop, as Oasis was drawing hundreds of thousands out to Knebworth, no one played Brit Pop. Like the dreaded Emo tag, bands detested the label. To be emo in today's market means you're a young band with the traditional guitar, bass, drums, and maybe keyboard lineup, your influences are third generation punk bands, and you sing with an uncontrollable sense of emotion. Likewise, bands saddled with the mark Brit Pop in the Nineties, typically used the traditional guitar, bass, drums, sometimes keys lineup, drew extensively from the catalog of vintage UK acts like The Beatles, The Stones, and The Kinks, and embraced their Brit-ness through fashion, attitude, and diction. Yet in spite of the rejection of the very phrase meant to characterize a movement by those responsible for its sound, these unwilling Brit Pop artists did provide Anglophiles with an alternative of chippy three-minute pop songs in direct contrast to an American rock landscape dominated by the pessimistic drudgery of grunge.
The Brit Box is Rhino Records' 4-cd, 78-track compilation documenting UK Indie, Shoegaze, and Brit Pop from the Mid-Eighties through to the end of the Nineties. The four discs in the set are mostly chronological in order as they build to the coronation of Brit Pop's undisputed kings, Oasis, midway through Disc 3, then as they trace the genre's eventual downfall as manufactured acts angled for their own spot at the top of the pop charts.
Disc 1 of the Brit Box examines the roots of Brit Pop back to the UK indie scene of the Eighties and features such modern rock stalwarts as The Smiths ("How Soon is Now?"), The Cure ("Just Like Heaven"), Echo and the Bunnymen ("Lips Like Sugar"), The Stone Roses ("She Bangs the Drums") and The Jesus and Mary Chain ("April Skies") along with some long forgotten acts like The La's ("There She Goes"), The Sundays ("Here's Where the Story Ends"), and Inspiral Carpets ("This Is How it Feels"), and those who almost, but never quite did impact the states like Primal Scream ("Loaded") and The Charlatans UK ("The Only One I Know.").
While Disc 2, with Ride ("Vapour Trail"), My Bloody Valentine ("Only Shallow"), Lush ("For Love"), Catherine Wheel ("I Want to Touch You") and Curve ("Coast is Clear") centers on the sedated sounds of dream pop and shoegaze through most of its duration, before taking on a more direct rock sound on the latter half of the disc with Ned's Atomic Dustbin ("Grey Cell Green"), The Manic Street Preachers ("Stay Beautiful"), and Teenage Fanclub ("Star Sign").
It isn't until Disc 3, and the appearance of Suede's glam-fantastic "Metal Mickey" along with the big three of Pulp ("Common People"), Oasis ("Live Forever"), and Blur ("Tracy Jacks") that we get to the bands who have traditionally been tagged as Brit Pop. Although we're now squarely in the middle of the phenomena, there are some acts like Swervedriver ("Duel"), The Boo Radleys ("Lazarus"), New Order ("Regret"), Stereolab ("Wow and Flutter"), and James ("Laid"), whose connection to this disc, and the Sixties obsession of Brit Pop's signature sound, are due to timing more than any other similarity.
Lastly, the fourth disc chronicles the downturn and eventual demise of Brit Pop. If you want one example of where it all went horribly wrong, Andrew Perry, the author The Brit Box's introductory essay, lays blame squarely at the performers of disc four, track four, Kula Shaker. With a tightly managed look, a tightly managed sound, and a privileged pedigree that included Cripian Mills, the son of British actress Hailey Mills, they embodied the type of opportunism that plagued Brit Pop's dying days where it seemed anyone with the right mop-top hair cut and the right clothes could buy their own fifteen minutes of fame. Still, the closing set isn't without its merits. Tracks by Cornershop ("Brimful of Asha"), Ash ("Girl from Mars"), Spiritualized ("Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space") and The Verve ("Lucky Man") lend a degree of legitimacy to a disc littered with bands who were nothing more than footnotes in the history of UK guitar rock -- Babybird, The Bluetones, Silver Sun, Mansun, Hurricane #1, Gay Dad -- need I go on?
As with any of Rhino's genre specific boxed sets, finding a tracklist to satisfy everyone is an impossible task. In addition to the legal issues that prevented obvious choices like Radiohead and The Beta Band from being included, some will have the usual gripes about the wrong songs and the wrong bands. If you're picking one Catherine Wheel song wouldn't you choose "Black Metallic" over "I Want to Touch You?" And if you can have only one song by Supergrass, wouldn't it be "Caught by The Fuzz" and not "Alright?" Similarly, if you're going to take the side of Blur in the classic Blur vs Oasis debate, are you going to make your case with a song like "Tracy Jacks?" It seems unfair that this is their lone representation on the Brit Box and not "Parklife," "Boys and Girls," "Country House," or hell, even the jock rocking "Song 2," when Oasis gets one of their biggest hits in "Live Forever."
In his column for the Village Voice, Tom Breihan, takes the argument one step further, as he laments the guitar centric selection of Rhino's curators and their omission of electronic acts like The Chemical Brothers and Underworld. Surely, The Chems and Underworld could have had a spot in the box, as one could have also added the likes of Tricky, Massive Attack, and Fatboy Slim to the list. And what about drum 'n' bass? That was big for a year or two. Let's get a track from Goldie and Roni Size. Once you start playing this game, not only is it hard to stop, but it also takes you further away from the focus of the set.
Writing for Salon, Simon Reynolds sees even more problems with the track selection of The Brit Box as he trots out the increasingly tiresome argument that Brit Pop, like today's American indie-rock, suffered from a profound lack of blackness, and this quality not only saddles it with mediocrity, but also ensured that as a movement, it would never gain much traction in the states. Can you say, "Stop Me if You've Heard this One Before?" The white, liberal guilt monster unleashed in Sasha Frere-Jones' essay, "A Paler Shade of White, How Indie Rock Lost its Soul" is so strong that it has infiltrated our recollections of the past and is now challenging our ability to enjoy another era of popular music.
Ultimately, the arguments of Breihan and Reynolds would hold more sway if The Brit Box was meant to be an all inclusive mix of every movement and every sub-genre of UK popular music in the Nineties. It wasn't. As the box advertises, it's a collection of Indie, Shoegaze, and Brit Pop, and nothing more and nothing less. Panning this set because it has too much Brit Pop is like criticizing Rhino's punk rock box set, No Thanks, because it doesn't include any disco, or slagging Rhino's three cd power pop collection, Poptoptia, for ignoring soft rock. These four discs, and the accompanying essay by Perry, are a narrative on the rise of Oasis and the subsequent saturation and deterioration of a specific sound. For Breihan and Reynolds, the inclusion of lesser acts like Cast, Ned's Atomic Dustbin, and Inspiral Carpets signals a weakness in the concept of the Brit Box. However, for someone with fond memories of modern rock radio of the past two decades, and who had spent many blurry-eyed, late nights watching MTV's 120 Minutes, these acts provide the most enjoyable moments. Perhaps you only saw their videos once or twice, or maybe they appeared on a mix tape you misplaced two apartments ago. Either way, the grip of nostalgia is incredibly strong as the opening chords of Ned's Atomic Dustbin's double bass attack of "Grey Cell Green" reverberate through your speakers, and is even stronger still, after the fourth or fifth time you hit replay on the invigorating power pop of Cast's "Alright," a song you have no right in savoring.
Granted, the Brit Pop era may not have been the most original, or the most experimental time in the UK's Rock 'N' Roll history, as Blur and Oasis did their best Beatles vs Stones, and everyone else was happy to tag along. Yet, as the songs from the compilation's second tier, and third tier acts demonstrate, it was a very fertile decade where the artists embraced the simple pleasures of a good hook, a witty line, or a clever riff, and more than anything else, melody mattered.
Disc 1 The Sunday's - Here Where The Story Ends
Inspiral Carpets - This Is How It Feels
The Charlatans - The Only One I Know
The Stone Roses - She Bangs the Drums [youtube] Spacemen 3 - Walking with Jesus [youtube]
Disc 2
Manic Street Preachers - Stay Beautiful
Ride - Vapour Trail
Ned's Atomic Dustbin - Grey Cell Green
Curve - Coast is Clear [youtube] Teenage Fanclub - Star Sign [youtube]
Disc 3
The Boo Radleys - Lazarus
Pulp - Common People
Cast - Alright
Swervedriver - Duel [youtube] James - Laid [youtube] Oasis - Live Forever [youtube] Elastica - Stutter [youtube]
Disc4
The Verve - Lucky Man
Cornershop - Brimful of Asha
Ash - Girl From Mars
Kula Shaker - Tattvva [youtube] Super Furry Animals - Something 4 the Weekend [youtube]
British Sea Power's soon to be released third album comes with a simple question on its cover, "Do You Like Rock Music?" Does the pope sh*t in the woods? Of course I like rock music. Now, should you ask me if I like the pomp and grandeur of their latest single, "Waving Flags," and that answer isn't so simple.
"Waving Flags" is a radio single, and with its heavenly guitars reaching for anthemic heights and its multi-layered background tracks oohing and aahing its every move, it's a very obvious radio single. If this was an Editors track or an Arcade Fire track, I'd likely be panning its bombastic movements as heavy-handed or brutish. Surprisingly, I'm not. With neither the laughable lyrics of The Arcade Fire, nor the over bearing emotion of Editors hanging over its head, and in spite of its grand amition, it's able to retain some degree of lightness. Besides, this is a band who have always had a sense for the dramatic, and as long as they keep a safe distance from the all drama all the time zone by adding some of their signature thrash and trash in the album mix, I'm quite fine with them shooting for the skies.
Do You Like Rock Music by British Sea Power will be out on February 12th in the states on World's Fair/Rough Trade. They will be touring the states in support of this release and will make a stop in Cleveland on Wednesday, March 26th at The Grog Shop.
The Library Is On Fire and Expecting Rain Record Release Parties Happening This Weekend
It was last Spring when The Library Is On Fire debuted their Devo inspired video for New Corner (for Kadinsky). Since that time, they moved their base of operations from Akron to Brooklyn, and they put the finishing touches on their self-released disc, Cassette. With influences shifting between noisy art-punk and big room guitar anthems, it's the type of alterna-rock album once common 10 years ago, but currently missing in today's micro-niched music scene.
