[2010 Hype Machine]: Liars- Sisterworld

I first listened to Liars on their debut, 2001's They Threw Us All in a Trench and Stuck a Monument on Top, when they were a fun yet slightly mysterious and dark dance punk band. While working on their debut's follow-up, Liars got hooked on sonic experimentation in the studio and decided to record a wildly incoherent concept album about the Salem Witch trials. They Were Wrong, So We Drowned, was full of impenetrable, noisy mood but short on songs. I felt betrayed. The band's third album, Drum's Not Dead, was another incomprehensible concept album that sounded interesting but failed to hold my attention no matter how much I tried. Yet for some reason I kept taking them back like a cheating dog with each new release. 2007's self-titled album was a shocking turn, trading concepts and abstractions in for structure and hooks. If it seemed like a retreat, I thought it was a welcome one. The inconsistency in their discography only served to heighten my curiosity while I awaited their 2010 album release, Sisterworld.

I'm really glad I stuck by this band. On Sisterworld the band manages to perfectly blend the accessible song forms of Monument and Liars with the experimentation and atmosphere of They Were Wrong, So We Drowned and Drum's Not Dead. The concepts compliment the songs rather than dominate them, creating a loosely themed album that invites you into their world rather than shutting you out. In some ways, this could make the album one of their most infuriating recordings for newcomers because Sisterworld is an oppressive and sinister nightmare.

Scissor kicks off the album posing as the musical equivalent of a delusional paranoid pacing the floor, full of eerie nervousness and white-knuckled explosiveness. Lead singer Angus Andrew slips from a sorrowful croon into an indecipherable moan throughout the album, suggesting a sociopathic attempt to rationalize destructive behaviors. I would not want to be this artist's muse. Tragic and unpredictable, all of the musical elements combine with shrieking guitars into an assault for the chorus. Taken as a whole, the band creates a musical threat of uncertainty, a tension born of random and senseless violence. If you're willing and in the proper mood, this is the perfect start to Liars' masterpiece.

The band's ability to maintain such a claustrophobic atmosphere throughout Sisterworld without forfeiting actual songwriting is impressive. No Barrier Fun features violin and xylophone over a narcotic drum beat while Here Comes All the People is a cloud of monotone chanting and Floydian whispers. Scarecrows on a Killer Slant pulsates with accusatory power and panic. The Overachievers provides another highlight, channeling a party anthem expressed with sarcastic self-loathing. The brass and momentum of Goodnight Everything envisions a long, dry funeral march through the desert. Following that visual, Sisterworld ends with an oasis - Too Much, Too Much. A mellower affair when compared to the destructive storm that preceded, Too Much, Too Much recalls elements of those earlier moments, reminding you that potential chaos remains just under the surface and the illusion of calm could be shredded apart at any moment.

Unless I invite friends to an abandoned prison or haunted industrial park this album won't be sound-tracking any upcoming parties. Yet even when I'm not in the mood for Sisterworld's confrontational style I can recognize its undeniable strengths and respect the band's achievement. I highly recommend it for folks who can't help but stare as they drive past a car crash, captivated by an instant, and terrifying, act of life. Sisterworld is populated by alienated individuals subject to indiscriminate acts of turbulence and trauma, made ever more frightening by the prospect that we are not special and could be thrust under its weight at any moment. An indictment on the false outrage and frustration championed within our society, therein lies the power and universal truth that elevates this album from a mere statement to masterpiece status.

[2010 Hype Machine]: Field Music - Field Music (Measure)

Where do I begin? Field Music (Measure), the third release and my introduction to the Scottish group, is an album that has burdened and enthralled me for the last several months. An epic and lengthy release, thoughts of reviewing it intimidated me. I felt a real power in the album, from the instrumental precision to wide-ranging incorporation of influences, I struggled with organizing my thoughts. You see, the length of the album makes it difficult to enjoy as a whole in a fast-paced modern work society where everything is digested piecemeal, digitally and on the move. In other words, this is a very mature, adult guitar rock record that caters to the college sophomore that lives inside us all, longing for the bygone days of sitting in the dorm with friends, spacing out and nodding off to great fucking records. A nostalgic dudes' weekend with a lifelong friend and former college roommate confirmed it - we ran across a copy of Field Music (Measure) on vinyl after I played it for him the previous night and he purchased it without hesitation.

Challenged with how to approach this album, I decided that one commonly relied upon gimmick, spotting and name-checking influences, might get my creative juices flowing. Undertaking such an exercise with this album is like trying to navigate the Neil Young Archives Blu-ray: frustrating as hell but ultimately rewarding. The laundry list ranges from the usual suspects from the Beatles, Cream and David Bowie to less anticipated artists such as Todd Rundgren, Yes and King Crimson. The artists missing in action are equally surprising - no Rolling Stones, Velvet Underground or Stooges, though you may find Iggy stumbling out of Berlin and into a song occasionally. Simply put, there is nothing gritty or sleazy about this album. This is not raw power music that started in a dirty garage, it was created in a clean, shiny laboratory - preciously labored, complex and awe-inspiring.

The album does not turn individual songs into mere genre exercises and if the band wears its influences on its collective sleeve then you may miss them if you blink as they briskly pass. The influences emerge from seemingly nowhere just long enough to lure your brain into the game of trying to remember someone's name too quickly, you know it and it's on the tip of your tongue but you just cannot recall. It's an enduring trick and one the band performs frequently with great success, often within a single track. Yet the album is remarkably cohesive, anchored by well-crafted songs executed with math-rock precision, intriguing rhythms and stunning harmonies.

Them That Do Nothing provides a perfect example of the band's ability to create smart, genuine pop music by seamlessly melding elements of British Mod, American power pop and Fleetwood Mac without showing an urge to replicate their influences' past success. Each Time Is A New Time shifts gears, exploding with a killer guitar riff and vocals haunted by Cream before eventually eroding into a passage that delicately nods toward Sunny Day Real Estate. Effortlessly blasts from an imaginary car radio with a hypnotic groove that the Police would have envied while flickers of guitar, reminiscent of pre-comic book Kiss, burst in and out as if coming from a weak radio signal. All of these moments happen within the first quarter of the album!

All the songs seem to flow into the next as if the individual tracks were of a piece but later songs also display the unique talent of effortlessly drawing inspiration from a variety of sources. Let's Write A Book features a Bowiesque falsetto built upon a Devo jerk and Prince funk foundation. You And I acts as a mash-up of Slint and Led Zeppelin's Kashmir. Precious Plans serves up a healthy dose of symphonic California folk-rock that would have sounded fresh coming out of 1970's Laurel Canyon. Something Familiar teases glimpses of Queen interspersed with Wings' piano before vacating the premises for Share the Words, a song that suggests an alternate reality where Tom Verlaine fronted the Attractions rather than forming Television.

This is a great record for repeated listening, as each experience yields a new favorite song or moment. Playing "Namedrop a Cool Influence" is a fun game with this record but despite neatly incorporating those influences to benefit the overall sound it does make it a hard album to characterize. But I believe the exercise did spark my imagination and if the album must be any one thing it is this: a rare art rock record for the post-everything age, stripped of fantasy and excess but full of reality and reverence.

[2010 Hype Machine]: Charlotte Gainsbourg - IRM

I have a confession to make - I had to rush over to the oracle of the Internet, Wikipedia, to learn about Charlotte Gainsbourg. She happens to be a critically acclaimed actress but I cannot claim to have seen any of her films beyond her role in I'm Not There and I barely remember her. Also, IRM is her third release, the first two being quite popular in Europe. I've never heard of those either, I'm afraid. Charlotte Gainsbourg's name first came to my attention when I read that she was collaborating on an album with Beck, who has been very busy with various projects despite not releasing an album since 2008's Modern Guilt. Oh, and Charlotte's old man, Serge Gainsbourg, was a pretty BFD in France. Thanks again, Wikipedia!

Despite my concern that Charlotte might release an album in the painstakingly obvious "shitty music by actors" genre, my long-time admiration for Beck triggered my interest. It could only go one of two ways, right? I mean, it could be either Don Johnson bad (stab me in the face!) or Scarlett Johansson bad (boring... don't quit your day job). I decided to wait a few months and didn't end up purchasing the album until I saw the video for Heaven Can Wait.

Surprise! IRM sounds like a lost, unofficial part of the Beck discography. The album isn't just a curious side project either, as it's best moments stand right alongside some of the best parts of Mutations, Sea Change and Modern Guilt. Despite Beck's looming shadow, handling production and songwriting, Gainsbourg more than holds up her end of the bargain, making the album sound truly collaborative. The smokey lead vocalist of the songs pouring from his jukebox brain, the actress fulfills the role of sexy chanteuse in Beck's fragmented night club perfectly. Nothing here sounds forced and the natural chemistry the two demonstrate helps turn this away from the typical movie star farce into something really special. Maybe it's a result of diminished expectations, but Gainsbourg and Beck have released one of my favorite albums this year, the album I most turn to at the end of a really long day.

The album opens with Master's Hand, a track that highlights both Gainsbourg's breathless vocals and a backing track from Beck, complete with banjo, that provides a deceptively funky swamp of sounds, hinting at trouble around the corner. The album really takes off with the title track which alludes to a serious health scare Gainsbourg experienced and the paranoia she felt after an accident caused her to have surgery for a cerebral hemorrhage. The song offers up an echo chamber of tribal beats and hospital equipment that constantly threatens to envelope Gainsbourg's completely indifferent vocals, as if the noise in her brain were something normal - an unsettling, daily occurrence. Perhaps she didn't write the song but it represents the true spirit of the collaboration, combining Beck's ability to translate her experience and emotional state with Gainsbourg's interpretive power.

Le Chat Du Café Des Artistes features French lyrics, which undoubtedly helps steer their work away from sounding like a Beck cover album. Although, Le Chat Du Café Des Artistes does immediately remind me of Sea Change, the conflict underneath the music is stirring. I have no idea what Charlotte's singing about, if Beck wrote it then it could be some bizarre Scientology hymn, but it's absolutely beautiful and sexy; meanwhile, the strings pull back the curtain and reveal that something sinister may be happening to the night club's patrons in the back room. La Collectioneuse offers a clearer explanation by simply providing both English and French verses, an ethereal tune wherein Gainsbourg eerily speaks of collecting things for her own pleasure but seemingly cannot satisfy herself with all she has amassed. Looking around at my own musical collection, I can selfishly identify with her frustration.

Fortunately, IRM isn't just hazy fever dreams and fractured cerebral symphonies, as such an album would teeter on the edge of self-indulgence, in my opinion. The aforementioned Heaven Can Wait is an amazing duet that provides a dynamic template further explored on tracks such as Me and Jane Doe and Time of the Assassins, which perfectly mix the duo's experimental pop sound and heavier instrumentation with floor-stomping results. Similarly, Dandelion's confident thump seemingly pays tribute to T. Rex, an influence too under-appreciated in today's music world.

My favorite IRM track, Trick Pony, is a song the Dead Weather probably wish they had recorded and released, taking this more muscular music thread to its obvious conclusion. Trick Pony dishes out a greasy blues that crawls and digs its fingernails into the floorboards. In my mind, I picture a video where Gainsbourg plays the role of an adult escort who's had enough and seeks revenge on her abusive pimp. The song probably isn't about that at all but my brain automatically tends to soundtrack imaginary film scenes when I listen and it makes sense to me. Either way, this track takes the underlying atmosphere of fear and paranoia and thrusts it into the spotlight, embracing it with menace and sexy abandon.

Diminished expectations or not, Gainsbourg and Beck have delivered a thrilling album full of rich textures and excellent performances that easily rival anything else released this year. For me, it's the perfect album because it truly surprised me and I'm reminded of the first time I listened to it, constantly skipping back to consider certain songs because one listen couldn't satisfy my interest. I came to this album as a Beck fan, and all things considered he is a key figure in this album's success, but Gainsbourg deserves top billing due to her consistently strong performances, making music that has Beck's DNA all over it sound deeply personal.

Who's in charge on IRM? Is Beck using Gainsbourg as a vehicle for his own artistic vision? Or, as in La Collectioneuse, has Gainsbourg captured Beck's talents and song-craft for her own pleasure and reward? Ultimately, with an album this successful, it doesn't matter and I eagerly await what's next for either artist, whether they strike out on their own or decide to further explore their collaborative chemistry.

[Moving Pictures]: Spoon - Who Makes Your Money (live)

A really cool live recording featuring one of my favorite songs from Transference:

[2010 Hype Machine]: Spoon - Transference

For purposes of full disclosure, I must admit a ten year love affair with Spoon. As a band, Britt Daniel and company have delivered a steady stream of albums that I have immensely enjoyed and every year they release an album they are assured a reserve spot on my Definitive compilation, prepared lovingly for friends and family, of the year’s best releases. I sincerely doubt Spoon is a publicly traded entity and I certainly have no financial conflict of interest in supporting their artistic muse. While their honorary spot on my years’ end list remains intact, I specifically promised myself I would not weight their new record more heavily than any other album release this year for purposes of compiling 2010 Hype Machine, my list of top ten releases thus far this calendar year. Yet Transference deserves its spot on this list, despite my stated bias, on its own carefully constructed merits.

Entering their fifteenth year of existence as a band, a history that includes one flirtation with a major label that did not work out, Spoon is a stubbornly persistent band in both output and identity. Transference, the band’s seventh full length release, makes no overt attempts to redefine the minimalist swagger associated with their sound. However, the decision to forgo stretching their sound into new areas of exploration does not signal an attempt to rehash classic Spoon tunes so much as reinforce their unique ability to write songs that sound conflictingly casual and restrained. Showing no sign of artistic fatigue, this band is comfortable with their identity and sound.

Upon first listen, the obvious standouts are the more energetic, punchy tracks including The Mystery Zone, Written In Reverse, Trouble Comes Running, and Got Nuffin. These four tracks also recall classic standouts from previous albums such as Girls Can Tell's Lines in the Suit, Kill the Moonlight's All the Pretty Girls Go to the City, and Gimme Fiction's My Mathematical Mind. Who Makes Your Money is a hypnotic song containing perhaps one of band leader Britt Daniel's strongest vocal performances. Goodnight Laura is every bit the beautiful lullaby suggested by the title, leading into one of the albums most interesting songs, Out Go the Lights. The song offers a great opportunity to reflect upon Daniel's lyrics, an often underrated talent, which are as tight and economic as the band's music: "If you lean any harder/That window breaks at the bone/And when that light turns back again/You will remember the way home."

Interestingly, Transference's production technique owes more to Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga's The Ghost of You Lingers than, say, the poppier The Underdog, which received airplay and television promotion. I enjoyed the introduction of horn arrangements and embrace of vintage soul's sonic aesthetics on the previous album and was somewhat surprised by its absence in light of the band's most recent, albeit brief, mainstream exposure. Rather, the band digs deeper into the song's rhythms, riding them in the pocket with a dub-like effect. Furthermore, much of the album sounds as if the band has sampled itself, allowing you to see bits of the song's skeletal origins underneath the finished product, before abruptly ending rather than a traditional fade out. The cryptic nature of the lyrics, coupled with the simultaneous construction and deconstruction of of a tune within a single track, lends itself to an atmosphere that suggests the album is the angriest, or most defiant, album in their discography since 1998's A Series of Sneaks.

All in all, Transference sounds pretty much how you expect Spoon to sound. If you're a fan, such as myself, then that is a damn good thing. Other veteran bands such as the Red Hot Chili Peppers and Foo Fighters, admittedly less hip bands of which I still consider myself a fan, often suffer from albums that seem formulaic as if they are simply rewriting the last album's hit single. Admittedly, Spoon could be criticized for not pushing themselves into newer, bolder territory as well but so far they've been able to continually use their sound and approach to great effect, providing a clear context to elaborate and toy with their sound in subtler fashion. Fortunately, the band also possesses an uncanny ability to edit itself as a Spoon album never feels too long or overstays its welcome. In some ways, each album seemingly acts as a teaser for what's to come. If Britt Daniel and company continue down that path then I'm sure 2012 or 2013 will provide me with a Spoon album worthy of inclusion on my year's best list - not that I'm biased or reserving a spot for them, of course!

[Moving Pictures]: Local Natives - Warning Sign (acoustic)

If weren't for Pitchfork there are many bands to which I may never had been exposed and their Pitchfork.Tv is responsible for capturing some awesome performances from bands that don't enjoy much mainstream attention. In honor of my first post, and your newfound love for Local Natives I assume, here's a fantastic acoustic performance from the Local Natives cover of the Talking Heads' Warning Sign. This little treat is part of TUNNELVISION, a feature on Pitchfork.tv:

[2010 Hype Machine]: Local Natives - Gorilla Manor

I first discovered the Local Natives while scouring Youtube for performances by the Talking Heads and became intrigued with the band after watching them perform Warning Sign. This is one of those songs that I so closely associate with David Byrne and the Talking Heads that it was difficult to gauge its effectiveness. I enjoyed the song and appreciated the Local Natives decision to forgo mimicking Byrne’s trademark vocal delivery, instead injecting it with three-part harmonies, inventive percussion and punk-inflected chanting. It delivered all the familiar tension I expect from a Talking Heads song but was distinct. The song falls short of being a “definitive version” of the song – that honor still rests with the original artists, but it did make me want to hear what more the band has to offer.

Further exploration led me to original songs Wide Eyes, Airplanes and Sun Hands. The sound quality of these recordings weren’t perfect but all the ingredients I enjoyed from the Warning Sign cover were present: fantastic percussion parts, guitars that could transform from dreamy to angular at the drop of a time signature, and beautiful harmonies that burn away when the band decides to aggressively deliver lines as a unit. I patiently awaited their debut album, Gorilla Manor, and was blown away by the opening salvo – all three of the aforementioned songs kicked off the album in astonishing fashion. If the songs lack any raw energy from the live recordings I previewed it isn’t readily evident and the songs also flourish from tasteful studio polish and confident delivery.

With such a dynamic opening, and the inclusion of their strong interpretation of Warning Sign, having the album stumble somewhat in the track list would be forgivable. However, the rest of the album delivers and does not require any margin for error. While there are elements here that suggest influences as far ranging as Fleet Foxes and Fugazi, the songs are delivered with impeccable hooks and arrangements that never feel cliché or predictable. Other stand out tracks include Camera Talk and Who Knows Who Cares, but even the tracks that don't immediately stick in my head work to service the album, providing for a singular, enjoyable listen.

Debut albums are curious endeavors and while they may benefit from a set of songs that thoroughly benefit from being road tested some band’s stumble while trying to carve out a unique identity in the recording process. Amazingly, the self-funded and band co-produced Gorilla Mansion lacks the sense of a band trying to find its sound and delivers a set of songs that reflects the confidence and demeanor of a veteran unit. Certainly, this has been one of the most refreshing musical discoveries for me this year and admirably delivers what a strong debut should – leaving the listener wanting more and eager to hear what Local Natives has in store for future releases.

[2010 Hype Machine]: My Favorite Releases of the Year... So Far

July. 2010. Already? Maybe it's just me but this year is melting away at an alarming speed. I hope to use this forum as an excuse to reflect on all of the music I enjoy. I enjoy talking to my friends about music, even when we may disagree or I get called out for over-hyping something. I do tend to over-hype because I get really excited when I hear something I like and although I am a million miles away from being a professional critic or expert, I'll try to maintain some quality control and avoid allowing my passion to drown this blog in a tsunami of hype and overstatement.

With that being said, I've had this blog account since 2005 and I've never used it. I'm going to give this a shot and see if I, or anyone else, enjoy it. I have no idea what I'm doing and this blog probably won't be much to look at for awhile. It may take me some time to figure out gadgets, linking to media content, etc. I'm working without a net here, so if anyone does read this thing - please, be gentle.

Okay, the whole reason I decided to do this initially was to take stock and highlight my favorite releases of 2010 so far. I've purchased quite a few releases but it wasn't until I started going through them, trying to narrow it to ten of my favorite new albums, that I realized how much good music has come out this year. I'm going to post ten albums, in no particular, that I would recommend to anyone interested to see what all the 2010 hype is about. Damn, I've started already.

Okay, so maybe the hype will be evident when discussing my list (so far), albums I'll likely pull from when making my Definitive 2010 compilation at the end of the year. These are the albums that I've fallen in love with and worn out since 2009 died... so sue me, there's going to be some damn hype.