The process of discovering artists can often turn into a domino effect, where reading into the origins of one artist leads to the discovery of another. This fortunate scenario is one of the reasons why I attempt to be so factually evident in writing about these artists, as it not only benefits the reader but also myself since I stumble upon so many affiliated acts in researching an artist’s origins. Often out of curiosity, I look into other releases that a featured artist has participated in. This proves especially useful if they are preparing their first release, as there is little else to go by in determining their growth as a songwriter. For anyone who has read this site as recently as Wednesday, the name Cass McCombs may sound familiar. It should, as the recently featured frontman of Papercuts, Jason Quever, put out his first set of legitimate material in the form of a few piano tracks for McCombs’ debut EP, Not the Way. Curious to see what Quever sounded like in the early part of this decade, I looked into McCombs and found two tracks on his MySpace. What initially was an effort to see how Quever changed as a songwriter evolved into something more, as McCombs lured me in with a mere two tracks that exhibited an extreme talent in songwriting that could not go overlooked.

After listening to the two tracks on McCombs’ MySpace, the sheer power of both “Everything Has to Be Just-So” and “Twins” made me believe that these were likely his signature songs. After all, both songs differed dramatically in tone but succeeded in sounding like an ardently empowering interpretation of indie-rock based on the exceptional songwriting alone. So, you can imagine my surprise after learning that both songs are actually b-sides to past singles. “Everything Has to Be Just-So” is only included on the single for “That’s That”, appearing on his most recent album, Dropping the Writ, which was released in October of 2007. “Twins” is a b-side from the “Sacred Heart” single, a track from his 2005 release, PREfection. Since I was curious as to how outstanding tracks like these could be released as b-sides, this curiosity prompted me to look into both albums and McCombs’ history as a songwriter. Originally a native of Conchord, California, McCombs set out to the east coast when he was 23 and never looked back. It was here where he recorded his debut EP, Not the Way. After the EP was released by the NYC-based Monitor Records in 2002, McCombs began working on his debut full-length, the ambiguously titled A.

Prior to the reissued version put out by 4AD Records in 2004, A had been released previously by Monitor Records in 2003 under the name of Best of Cass McCombs. It was a bold title to give a debut, but many fans maintain to this day that it serves as the best representation of McCombs’ tactful skills as a pop songwriter. Though it remains his most stripped-down release to date, A presented McCombs in an untainted light where amateurish production and subtle flaws contributed to an album where McCombs’ concurrent potential and ability shined brightly. The songs often involved little more than acoustic guitars and keyboards, but McCombs’ mixture of uniquely empowering vocals and heartfelt lyrics added wonderfully to barren but rewarding arrangements. His next release, PREfection, in 2005 proved to be a surprising affair for fans of A. It showed McCombs touting a more ambitious stylistic demeanor, presenting songs with numerous layers of instrumentation and structural tendencies that occasionally went into avant-garde territory. A track like “Sacred Heart” exhibits this quite well, as it finds McCombs’ whimsical delivery flourishing from a variety of electric guitars, bass lines, and a string-like backing synth pad. It actually serves as one of the album’s more conventional tracks in its structural intentions and accessible melody, but this single shows perfectly why McCombs’ ability as a pop songwriter should not be questioned.

While “Sacred Heart” benefits from an anthemic chorus that borrows the jangly demeanor of late ‘80s Brit-rock, I find myself more enamored with its b-side in the exhilarating “Twins”. This proves more indicative of ‘60s British psychedelia with a brooding introduction that features an instrumental whirlwind of both post-punk and psychedelic influences. I find the contemporary relevance of this specific style to be very reminiscent of Pulp’s This Is Hardcore, adding yet another British comparison to McCombs despite the fact that he is from California. It simply speaks to his knowledge of his targeted genre, and in “Twins” he literally does no wrong. Alternating between a whimpering croon and series of self-induced backing harmonies, McCombs continuously comes back to a chorus in which he somberly repeats, “You lied to me, you lied to me.” Underneath a spectacle of melancholic keys and thickly reverberating guitars and bass, “Twins” speaks more to McCombs’ ability than any other song I have come across. While I still find it extremely odd that this was not included on A or his subsequent album, Dropping the Writ, I suppose that cohesion must be valued. It is true that the style of “Twins” does not immediately relate to the flow of A, even if it is soaked in reverb and beautifully haunting instrumentation like on “Sacred Heart”, “Equinox”, or “Subtraction”. It may speak to McCombs’ personal admiration of “Twins” though that it is one of the two tracks posted on his MySpace. I can’t say I can blame him.

The other track on McCombs’ MySpace, “Everything Has to Be Just-So”, sees him explore territory that is more reminiscent of his latest material on Dropping the Writ, his first release for Domino Records. Although this is another effort that has been released as a b-side, the reason for doing so likely can be attributed to the song’s stylistic focus. Dropping the Writ has primarily been classified as an album which contains McCombs’ most linear stylistic direction, with most tracks sitting somewhere in between indie-rock and acoustical pop. It was certainly not a bad album, but fans of McCombs’ previous material hold such a high regard for his releases, as they should. He seemed to be becoming more ambitious with each release, sharpening his production and honing his skills along the way. Dropping the Writ, if anything, was neither a step forward nor a step back, but rather a release that saw developmental immobility. Since most fans of McCombs understand his true potential, it is hard to blame them for forming such high expectations. I personally would love to see McCombs pursue the style of psychedelia successfully attempted on “Twins” and the touch of new-age experimentalism on “Everything Has to Be Just-So” on his next album, but I am sure different fans have different perspectives. But as far as that “next album” goes, McCombs tells us that it should arrive any month now. That is something that all fans can get behind.

——————————————————————————————

Cass McCombs – Twins

——————————————————————————————

Cass McCombs – Sacred Heart

——————————————————————————————

Cass McCombs – Subtraction

——————————————————————————————

Domino Records

MySpace

BUY

The post Cass McCombs Looks Ahead to PREfection appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

I hate to say it, but between recently featured acts like Loquat and Faded Paper Figures, it almost seems like I am covering too many groups centered on a husband and wife. Then again though, such respective acts take neither melodramatic romanticism nor thematic desperation into the studio with them. It allows them to enter whichever stylistic scene they wish without promoting their personal status to a desperate means. So, with that in mind, it should not really matter at all; the only aspect I am looking for is quality, and it is by no coincidence that a plethora of groups with some sort of matrimonial connection are breaking out in a big way. If anything, the experience gained allows for a more astute lyrical perspective, with the actual audible content occasionally being uplifted by chemistry that is as natural as one could possibly perceive. Oh, and as for the latest of this nature? Well, they go by the odd name of Alt-Ctrl-Sleep and are comprised of husband and wife duo Joe and April Diaco. Unlike what their odd choice of a name may convey, this is not some synth-powered pop music that one would deem “cute” or “bouncy”. No, no… instead, the Diacos play with a form of subdued psychedelic-pop that is more reminiscent of melancholic reflection than upbeat romanticism, a somewhat unconventional approach for a tactful duo that displays such a knack for genuine chemistry.

Despite such aforementioned focuses on melancholy, Alt-Ctrl-Sleep’s material tends to shift emotional leverages in appliance to the audible atmosphere at hand. While their eponymous debut album does show a tendency for the bleaker sides of a relationship, the effect they convey is more serene than overwhelming depressing or instantaneously chaotic. Think something in the vein of Yo La Tengo, where intricately crafted ambiance and superb pop elements collide to create an effect in which emotions are conveyed with innovation and true purpose. As stated by the two members themselves, the Diacos’ formula is incredibly simple. “Our approach to writing music is easy,” they claim. “Make it simple, melodic, and dreamy.” Writing a simplistic song has been done countless of times before, but the two latter elements are where many artists trip and stumble on their way toward hopeful stylistic virtues. It is here where Alt-Ctrl-Sleep succeed the most resoundingly, even if their choice of a name somewhat eludes me. Regardless though, they remain so impressively focused on one style and approach throughout their 16-track debut album that cohesiveness is an aspect that listeners will eventually take for granted after a few listens. Though it remains distinctively lo-fi effort at heart, Alt-Ctrl-Sleep has all the elements of a very commendable debut album, from the stylistic consistencies and high rush of emotions to the superb production and captivating songwriting.

As a listener surveys the bulk of Alt-Ctrl-Sleep for the first time, they will likely notice that it is not difficult for the album to put its receiver into a trance-like state. With a delicate rush of keys swooping in over hazy synth pads and fragile percussion, additives like acoustic guitars and varying vocal melodies merely serve to supplement overlapping progressions that form to create a wistful effect. The melodies, for the most part, are by no means robust or impressively intricate, but they never remain repetitive or overwrought with aspects overly typical of dream-pop, electronica, or shoegaze; these are all genres in which Alt-Ctrl-Sleep take pride in becoming acquainted with throughout the release. The album’s opener, “Take Care”, is actually one of the most busiest on the album despite a rhythm section and key-led progression that repeat as Joe Diaco coos tenderly simplistic lines with touches of poignancy like “Take care, you are the only one. Do you want to feel your love?” As you can hear from this track alone, the duo’s charm mainly derives from their atmospheric grasp. Joe’s wife, April, makes her presence known with subtle backing vocals and heavily prevalent keys, two aspects that she shines on throughout the album in addition to drums. Joe controls most of the electronica aspects in addition to guitars and bass, with his collaborative skills also making a mark on keyboards.

A track like “Kandy” may initially catch listeners off guard with the bare usage of an acoustic guitar, but once the trickling keys kick in over the soft percussion and Joe Diaco’s vocals enter the fold, the typical stylings of Alt-Ctrl-Sleep emerge yet again. As the longest track on the album, it is quite the risk for a band of Alt-Ctrl-Sleep’s nature, as their stylistic consistencies can tend to backfire if their methodical utilizations are overstressed. As mentioned earlier with their impressive atmospheric grasp, a track like “Sleep” demonstrates their uncanny ability extremely well. Implementing a variety of choir-like backing voices under the high shrill of organs and keys, ambient minimalism is tackled with success as the duo relays a repeating key line under the beautiful orchestration of a tranquil synth pad. As the album’s concluding effort, it serves as a final lullaby that bids the listener’s state of relaxed bliss into a farewell of sorts. The prior song, “In the End”, prepared the listener for such a momentous occasion with its fusion of acoustics and electronic pop. “In the end, the only things that hurt you just pretend to go away,” Joe Diaco sings before a beautiful set of keys, a master stroke of success that is perfectly timed within the optimistic – although blissfully soothing – mindset of the song. It is songs like this where the emotions of the duo vary to create a very consuming result, very much indicative of early dream-pop greats like Cocteau Twins and Luna. It remains too early to make such comparisons, but Alt-Ctrl-Sleep are certainly on the right track with a debut album like theirs.

——————————————————————————————

Alt-Ctrl-Sleep – Take Care

——————————————————————————————

Alt-Ctrl-Sleep – Kandy

——————————————————————————————

Alt-Ctrl-Sleep – In the End

——————————————————————————————

MySpace

BUY

The post Alt-Ctrl-Sleep appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

While some people listen to music purely for the melodic features alone, there are others who value lyrical content just as importantly (or even more so) than the other audible aspects involved. Personally, it varies between genres for me. I usually do not pay much initial mind to the lyrics in some dance tracks or even some pop songs, mainly due to the domineering melodic focus that an artist occasionally attempts to convey. I never disregard it entirely, but occasionally paying no mind to such features enhances the listening experience, especially if the songwriter is not a capable lyricist (which is suitably the case with many dance and pop songwriters). It is common sense in life: to enjoy yourself, try to disregard all the negative aspects of a situation. It is certainly impossible in some areas of life, but most music allows you to do so without a hitch. That being said, when I receive an album that I have never listened to before, the most background reading I found myself doing comes in the form of a one-sheet or concise biography. Up until now, I have never been provided with a short story of sorts to accompany an album. If done right, it is an extremely innovative way to complement the lyrical content throughout the release, just as a new artist recently taught me…

Though I have never met him personally, it is quite easy to tell that Micah Dalton is a risk-taker. Apart from the fact that his musical style is an appealingly intrepid mixture of folk, blues, soul, and R&B, Dalton has provided an extremely unique experience for the release of his third album, Pawn Shop. Many of us have listened to concept albums in some form before that were based on works of literature, but very few can say that they heard an album where the artist based his lyrics off of literature that was written specifically FOR the respected album. In addition to providing an enjoyable album with 12 tracks, Dalton has enlisted Jewly Hight to write a short story told in 12 vignettes. Included in the album sleeve in one pamphlet, each story represents a different track. The plot is ongoing, depicting a traveler by the name of Pawnshop who undergoes the unexpected adventure of his life while stopping by the quaint town of Mineola on his route to Atlanta. It plays slightly like a Tarantino screenplay, providing clever humor and plenty of action in a desolate setting where entertainment is to be unexpected. On a side note, a quick Google search reveals the author, Ms. Hight, to be an aspiring musician herself, with “White Knuckles” on her MySpace being well worth the listen. As the name of the love interest eludes to, the story is one containing central themes of commitment and desire. With Dalton and the character of Pawnshop having several striking similarities, it makes listening to Pawn Shop a very enriching experience.

Along his journey of peril and self-discovery, Pawnshop comes across a slew of interesting individuals, such as an impetuous preacher by the name of Reverend Julius Ramshack, a shotgun-wielding but kindhearted housewife named Eula, and a disgruntled local who also acquaints himself with a firearm. Yes, the protagonist (Pawnshop) gets a gun pointed at his face three times throughout the story by three different characters, but the ending result sees him continuing on his path to discover a job in Atlanta and appease his beloved who is hundreds of miles away, the lovely Desiree. The most interesting character, however, is Ramshack, a foul-mouthed preacher who insistently proclaims God to be the almighty despite contradicting his beliefs in nearly every action and vile word spoken. His is exposed best in “Rev. Ramshack Run”, an appropriately stylized blues number that sees Dalton providing his suave and raspy vocals in infectious form. “Ramshack and run, go on and get your gun!” he exclaims. “Get one for Petey, he does not have one.” The lyrical content and character itself serves generally at a swipe at those who contribute significantly to the immorality of society due to selfishly contradictory beliefs, but even Dalton would admit that Ramshack is a great character who deserves exposure, regardless of whether he is described through music or literature.

In terms of general songwriting, “Looking For a New Way” is the best track on Pawn Shop. With a B-3 organ and toy piano providing the melodic backbone to a flurry of acoustic guitars, tight percussion, and backing vocals, it is the best demonstration of Dalton’s abilities as a songwriter. It begins in simplistic acoustic form but gradually builds in instrumentation. When Dalton delivers his fantastic croon with increased ardency when an additional guitar progression emerges, the song begins to pick up momentum. The percussion is revealed in the chorus over Dalton’s vocals and acoustic guitar shortly afterwards, later introducing a nice bridge accompanied by a variety of male and female backing vocals. When Dalton repeats the chorus one last time, one can’t help but grin at the outstanding potential “Looking For a New Way” alone shows. “We Came Alive” is also worth the listen for its beautiful use of strings, complementing Dalton’s tenderly endearing vocals to perfection. It also is very demonstrative of his falsetto toward the song’s ardent conclusion, signifying just how broad Dalton’s vocal range truly is. Speaking of enjoyable love songs on the album, “I’ll Find You In Ohio” serves as an ode to the Pawnshop’s love interest, Desiree. While the songwriting does not reach the heights of “Looking For a New Way” or even “We Came Alive”, the mixture of keys and twangy guitars provides for a very radio-friendly track. Accompanied by a Southern Gothic narrative, the impressive Pawn Shop is now available.

——————————————————————————————

Micah Dalton – Looking For a New Way

——————————————————————————————

Micah Dalton – Rev. Ramshack Run

——————————————————————————————

Micah Dalton – I’ll Find You In Ohio

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

The post The Adventures of Micah Dalton and Pawnshop appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

O Canada! Why is your music scene so damn unpredictable? Now, whenever I hear a new Canadian artist, I have no clue what I am about to get. Country-folk from Kent McAlister & The Iron Choir? Synthy post-punk from Feu Therese? Or how about throwback Brit-pop revivalism from Spiral Beach? Whichever genre it is that you fancy, Canada has been certainly supplying it over the past few months. Unlike several locations in the United States, there remains no part of Canada where one musical stereotype reigns over all the others. No country music in the south, no grunge in the upper Midwest, and no sob story emo failures on either coast. It is a free-for-all adventure, one that welcomes all genres and stylistic intentions with wide open arms. While niches remain somewhat more common than in other parts of the world, Canadian artists like the ones featured over the past few months have attributed to the newly energized embrace of genres that stray from the typical nationalistic trend of expectancy. Foreign styles are becoming less of an oddity and, with the multitudinous array of new artists causing a momentous effect on what is now considered a stylistic “norm”, the rash unpredictability within a scene has become something of an envious ambiguity.

One of the more experienced Canadian artists making a similar impact is Edmonton-based songwriter Corb Lund. With his fifth studio album, Horse Soldier! Horse Soldier!, set to be released on November 15th, it marks yet another strike of consistency for the country-folk songwriter who has built up his name of being one of the most beloved folk songwriters in Canada. In fact, Lund describes the grouping of his fans as quite an eclectic mixture. “Because of the some fo the mainstream country play we’ve been getting, our audience is a mixture of hipsters and regular country listeners,” Lund says. Try and picture those two types in a crowd. Fun stuff. If I had to guess, I would say it is the allure of Lund’s distinct storytelling that makes both types savor his releases. A self-proclaimed history buff, Lund has shown great interest in military history and strategy. As a result, Horse Soldier! Horse Soldier! is about a subject that many artists tackle controversially: war. More specifically, it serves as a dedication to the importance of cavalry during the dozens of historically memorable wars that embrace our cobwebbed high school history books. Lund has the background to boot too; his lineage apparently dates back to a bloodline of cowboys who made their homes in the south. He now makes Alberta his home and embraces it, using it as a descriptive backdrop in a variety of his songs. It could almost make us forget that Lund is a Canadian songwriter who looks, speaks, and sings like an American revolutionary. To his credit, such esteemed originality works exceedingly well.

I will say right now that country music is not my cup of tea. It never has, it never will be. But still, when I stumble across an artist like Corb Lund, such stylistic prejudice becomes obsolete. He is an artist where both style and substance are of equal importance. He is not an artist whose goal is to write a radio-friendly hit with a stellar melody with embarrassingly generic lyrical content. He does not aim to expose poetic elegance over a dull melody either. Instead, Lund manages to incorporate both rich lyrical content with a musical style that remains consistent but never tiring. His classification as a country artist is indeed flexible, whether it be the brassy mariachi ode in “My Saddle Horse Has Died”, the rollicking “Hard On Equipment” and its shades of ’50s rockabilly, or the bluesy leading riff in “What That Song Means Now”. With his influences in mind, it makes sense. “My heroes are the guys who transcend style, whether it’s Neil Young or Bob Dylan or Steve Earle or Lyle Lovett,” Lund said. “They start out in whatever scene suits them best, and then they grow.” Horse Soldier! Horse Soldier! is the type of album where buying a hard copy is nearly a necessity, as the included booklet of each lyric is something that provides great additional entertainment to Lund’s rich 15 songs.

Arguably the finest example of Lund’s storytelling talents on Horse Soldier! Horse Soldier! comes in the form of the politically rousing “Student Visas”. Lund calls it the “most contemporary tale” on the album, taken from a real character that Lund met while touring in the USA. The character was a grizzly veteran who had served in the covert anti-Contra operation in Nicaragua in the ’80s who, after a few beers, began telling Lund about his turbulent service time. “Every couple of minutes he’d stop and say, ‘I’m not supposed to be talking about this,’ but then he’d continue,” Lund said. “He would vacillate between being a tough guy with bad-ass soldier talk and super heavy crippling remorse.” The song ultimately displays the challenges and frustrations put forth because of a war that simply does not make sense from a humane perspective. “Did Reagan give the order? Did cocaine pay the bill?” “They said we’s fightin’ communists but it was kinda hard to tell.” “This was before Blackhawks and RPGs were king,” he finally declares, clarifying to younger listeners that real war is the precise opposite of fun-filled video games that attempt to capture the wounded experience. Casted over by a rapid acoustic progression and a flurry of dark strings, the gloomy touch makes Lund’s bleakly reflective viewpoint even more effective. “Horse Soldier, Horse Soldier” is also an excellent display of Lund’s string use, being an ardently depicting factor that achingly summarizes Lund’s somber reflection on an under-appreciated occupation. It almost seems like Lund is a few centuries too late (and I mean that in a good way). The fact that “I Wanna Be in the Cavalry” sounds like a pro-war recruitment song crafted in the 1700s is simply part of its charm.

——————————————————————————————

Corb Lund – Student Visas

——————————————————————————————

Corb Lund – Horse Soldier, Horse Soldier

——————————————————————————————

Corb Lund – I Wanna Be in the Cavalry

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

The post Corb Lund and His Beloved Cavalry appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

International success has an odd way of distinguishing itself. An artist could be recognized on the streets of their native country by virtually every bystander while, in a different country, even their name would be rendered unknown. Eskimo Joe has all the qualifications for success, whether it be in their native Australia or abroad. With irresistibly catchy, radio-friendly alternative ballads that echo crisp production and tasteful melodies, it remains somewhat surprising that the western side of the world has not caught up to them yet. After all, they did name their band after the famous restaurant, Eskimo Joe’s, in Oklahama. In addition, one of their most recently successful singles is called “New York”. Hell, even their press shot above was taken in NYC. It nearly seems like a plea for American audiences to give them at least a half-hearted chance. Whatever it takes, I recommend for all non-Aussies to follow in the footsteps of Australian music fans in warming up to Eskimo Joe. All those oppose any form of “mainstream pop” should keep in mind that, while Eskimo Joe have gone 4x Platinum is Australia, they remain practically invisible in America. However, I doubt that this distinction will last long. Quality music cannot go unseen for a large duration of time, regardless of which country it originates from.

By the time Australian fans are reading this, Eskimo Joe will probably seem like old news. Their most recent and third album, Black Fingernails, Red Wine, was released in Australia over a year ago and went on to reach #1 on the Australian charts. It goes to show that, unlike in America, a modern #1 album can actually have the ability to not be an overproduced, commercialized piece of crap. Rather than being a messy collection of singles for the radio waves with a few fillers to look nice for the press, Black Fingernails, Red Wine is a collectively satisfying effort that finds the trio at their best. While the songs remain immediately memorable and wildly accessible, the rare quality that the album possesses is that each and every song sounds like a dedicated effort. While singles like “New York” and “Sarah” are clearly a few of the best, it is difficult to find a song on Black Fingernails, Red Wine that lacks in either quality or effort. Even the instrumental “Reprise” is fervently genuine enough to fit applicably among other alternative tracks encompassing infectious melodies and boisterous guitar riffs. With “Reprise” being an instrumental continuation of the opening “Comfort You”, Joel Quartermain’s skills as a pianist shine brightly as he creates a luminous atmosphere through a repetitive droning effect brought on by keys, bass, drums, and an eerie synth pad. This song, like the majority of Eskimo Joe tracks, was written by lead singer and bassist Kavyen Temperley. The band is rounded out by guitarist Stuart MacLeod, with Quartermain also acting as the studio drummer and backing guitarist. They all formed Eskimo Joe in 1997 in an effort to win and compete in the Australian National Campus Band Competition. As expected, they won the competition and were rewarded a free recording session. From there, the rest was history.

After making conscientious use of their well-earned studio time, Eskimo Joe made their debut on the Australian airwaves in 1998 with “Sweater”, a catchy single preceded by an EP of the same name. After another EP the following year, they released their debut full-length, Girl, in 2001. It fared exceedingly well for a debut, topping at #29 on the Aussie charts. However, it was not until their second album, A Song is a City, in 2004 that Eskimo Joe propelled into Australian superstars. Led by singles “From the Sea” and “Smoke”, A Song is a City saw the band reaching the #2 spot in Australia. It went 2x Platinum as well, leading to the antsy anticipation of Black Fingernails, Red Wine. The crispest and most confident sounding of the three, Eskimo Joe’s latest was produced by esteemed Australian producer Matt Lovell, also known for his work with Silverchair and The Sleepy Jackson. I personally find the album to be an amiable mixture of early Collective Soul and Lifeblood-era Manic Street Preachers. With those two artists being, at one time in their careers, respectable chart-toppers in their native countries, it was certainly not a bad call in judgment when Eskimo Joe announced that they would release Black Fingernails, Red Wine in America on September 25th of this year. In addition, they are including an exclusive DVD that I viewed and was thoroughly satisfied with. The DVD contains performances of the album’s four respected singles: “Black Fingernails, Red Wine”, “Sarah”, “New York”, and “Breaking Up”.

One of the reasons that I believe Eskimo Joe will be overwhelmingly appealing to the mainstream American audience is their abundant use of piano-led melodies, all radiantly alluring in being led by Temperley’s soaring vocals. While Eskimo Joe remains too involved in guitars and too diverse in vocal delivery to draw obvious comparisons to Coldplay, such features I find to be a blessing in disguise. Rather, Eskimo Joe is an incorporation of several elements and stylistic intentions that western audiences have bought into for the past twenty years. The electrifying “Sarah” is an excellent example of this, delivering a series of stirring guitars and fleeting percussive elements that reflect the mid-90s alternative scene to the fullest extent. The self-titled on Black Fingernails, Red Wine even goes as far to implement the backing “wo-ho-oh-oh” that Collective Soul won fans over with their earlier, shameless collection of songs. There are at least a dozen songs on the album that are as illustriously harmonious as “Sarah” and “Black Fingernails, Red Wine”. Even so, the track that I believe will win western audiences over is their other single, “New York”. With a fragile piano line soon supplemented by the roaring riffs of guitars and rhythmic attributes, the song sports an effervescent chorus that serves as one of the greatest moments on the album. “I know, I know, it wasn’t New York,” Temperly sings, his undying passion ignited by a majestic array of instrumentation. By the end of the song, it is hard to imagine that such a powerful melody was initially molded by a single piano line. So, with these tracks representing the best of Eskimo, give them a shot before the “guilty pleasure” tag sets in. If all goes well, their eventual success in America should only be a matter of time.

——————————————————————————————-

Eskimo Joe – Sarah

——————————————————————————————-

Eskimo Joe – New York

——————————————————————————————-

Eskimo Joe – Black Fingernails, Red Wine

——————————————————————————————-

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

The post Eskimo Joe is Coming to America appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

The foundation for individualized dependency can often be brought on by the bleakest aspects of life. If I were to say that loneliness can be used as a source of immense production, I would expect many to laugh, shake their heads, and strongly disagree. After all, who uses loneliness to their advantage? Well, I can think of dozens of artists who, without loneliness, would have absolutely nothing to write about. Their motivation would also be uninspired, driven by superficial tendencies that are already much too common in our daily sociological interactions. Matthew William Kohnle is one of the newer artists that comes to mind when I think of such controversial topics. His solo musical project, The Swede, utilizes this adept formula of taking loneliness by the throat, staring it straight in the eye, and portraying it in the form of beautifully executed music. This presentation may seem somewhat bleak to a variety of people, though as Kohnle puts it, simply “making the most of isolation” should not be considered overly dramatic. Based out of North Carolina, Kohnle has been involved with a variety of local bands, including the instrumental quartet Daybed and the free-form noise group Hat City Intuitive. Kohnle has been working on his debut solo album for over two years, following the formation of his own independent Shotty Merchandise label. Finally, last fall, he finally released and The Swede, his long awaited solo debut under the moniker “The Swede”. Kohnle may have some Swedish blood in his veins, though it is certainly not similar to the typical Swedish upbeat pop music we hear today from Peter Bjorn and John or Love Is All. As enjoyably catchy as those other bands are, Kohnle’s music contains some of the most honest material I have heard lately. It will not have you singing along or tapping your foot, but Kohnle’s debut leaves a lasting impression through talented musicianship, veracious lyrical content, and stellar production. Immediate comparisons have been made to Jim O’Rourke or Nick Drake due to Kohnle’s display of downbeat moods and tempos, all contained within an innovative approach that borders between both acoustic and electric standards. Kohnle describes his own album competently, feeling as nice as a “warm hug” or “comfy as an old couch”. If you are fond of paced songwriters who have a vivid skill for capturing emotion through progressive composition, that description should be quite accurate for you.

The cover of and The Swede is hardly reflective of the intricately layered album that it is, providing nothing but a photo of Kohnle’s dog, Pumpkin, and a languid background of wood. Understanding Kohnle’s deep intellect, the artistic representation of anguish and solitude is entirely present, from the artwork to the most substantial aspect, being the songs involved. Apart from Todd Knapp’s bass clarinet on “They Hate This Where I’m From”, Kohnle wrote, recorded, and performed the entire duration of and The Swede. The aptly titled “The First Song on This Record” establishes a structure that is portrayed consistently throughout the rest of the album. With the gentle strums of an acoustic guitar and a balmy piano line, Kohnle’s vocals can almost be interpreted as a whisper, even if his melodic capability is still at a peak. After a brief introduction, an outburst of percussion ignites a capably ostensible chorus that welcomes the entries of an electric guitar, an occasional synth, a more apparent piano, and an enlivened set of drums. Sliding back into a verse with the mere collaboration of a piano and acoustic guitar, Kohnle falls back to a whisper. When the chorus is revived, Kohnle maintains the whisper, sounding just as effective through his distinctively alleged tone of hurt, loneliness, and desperation. “F U My Friends” contains more pop sensibilities, though a similar approach is used with a vigorous chorus that is built upon successively by the preceding verse. Oddly enough, the chorus reminded slightly of Modest Mouse, thanks in part to the melodic presentation of the backing vocals, one of which is supplied by Kohnle’s wife, Andrea. It is a joyous track, one of the best on the album, that is a true showcase of Kohnle’s distinctive talent. “The Last Song on This Record” also reminds me of Isaac Brock, though this one is mainly attributed to Kohnle’s rougher vocal output. Other tracks that slightly abandon the bleak element of other songs for a more optimistic approach include the lighter “No Hurry” and “No Loud Crash”, which makes nice use of a synth implementation. “They Hate This Where I’m From” is one of the most creative songs on the album, using Knapp’s bass clarinet and a saxophone, both of which are used loosely with an experimental aspect looming large. The structure is unpredictable and the song represents the O’Rourke comparisons quite well. Though the song isn’t for everyone, those who find enjoyment in distinctive tracks that hold no fear in taking risks will leave satisfied. Kohnle’s debut, and The Swede, is an exceptional debut that holds a variety of different experiences. From memorable gems like “The First Song on This Record” and the delightful “F U My Friends” to the more ambitious “They Hate This Where I’m From” and the lush acoustic “Birds Around Yr. Head”, and The Swede is certainly worth several repeated listens.

——————————————————————————————

The Swede – The First Song on This Record

——————————————————————————————

The Swede – F U My Friends

——————————————————————————————

The Swede – They Hate This Where I’m From

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

BUY

The post Matthew William Kohnle’s “and The Swede” appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

We all love the typical history of a successful band, even if it appears to be a mere fairy tale to the legions of other struggling musicians. You know the gist of it — start in a garage with a few friends, play at a few small venues and bars, attract the attention of some promoters and big-shots, and eventually release a handful of acclaimed albums, winning a desirable fanbase. Oh yeah, playing alongside acts such as Wilco and Johnny Cash wouldn’t be so bad either. Though it doesn’t apply to many, this is the story of The Mother Hips, a band originally from Chico, California who started out small and eventually became one of the most respectable rootsy-rock bands of the 90s. If the sales don’t reflect it, their ceaseless fanbase and supporting cast of prestigious musicians certainly does. The band originally met in 1991 in the dorms of Chico State, with vocalist and chief songwriter Tim Bluhm coming together with guitarist Greg Loiacono, bassist Isaac Parsons, and drummer Mike Wofchuck, all with a shared admiration for artists like Neil Young and the Beach Boys. After building up hype throughout the area with their lively local shows, the band released their debut album, Back to the Grotto, a year later. The album had a rough feel with amateur production, though the melodies were distinct and memorable, with hooks that rang out with a bursting passion. Noticing their minor but noticeable flaws in the debut, the four-piece waited three more years to release their sophomore effort, Part Timer Goes Full. As the album title suggests, it was an indication that The Mother Hips gained enough confidence in their songwriting to express their desire to devote all of their time, energy, and focus on the band. It was a breakthrough that propelled the bands to a new area of attention, stretching their fanbase outside of the Bay Area in their native California. It was also their first release under a major label, being Warner Bros. Records. With their new relationship with American Recordings (Warner Bros.) in hand, they played slots with Wilco and Johnny Cash, creating quite a surreal atmosphere for the four friends from Chico. For the next two years, they released two albums: Shootout and Later Days. Shootout was another successful step forward in artistic recognition, though the lack of sales caused a drop from the Warner Bros. label. Later Days is considered to be the band’s worst effort. To that effect, the songs aren’t bad at all. It’s just that it sounded much too similar to their previous material, sounding as if the band ceased an increase in creativity. During the album, drummer Mike Wofchuk was replaced by John Hofer. After Later Days, the band took another break, waiting four years to release their fifth album, Green Hills of Earth. Undoubtedly, it was the best effort of their career. Abandoning their focus on psychedelia and jam-rock, The Mother Hips focused more on power pop and accessible hooks, creating an addicting array of fourteen pleasurable songs. Despite the album’s success, guitarist Greg Loiacono left the band, creating a temporary hiatus for the band during their peak. Despite the momentary absence, the band reformed during 2005, with all of the initial members except bassist Isaac Parsons returning. Paul Hoaglin took over as full-time bassist, with John Hofer resuming duties as full-time drummer. The EP, Red Tandy, was released later that year directly after the reformation. It was a very impressive release, displaying how the band did not skip a beat during their three year absence. The sound was in a similar aspect to Green Hills of Earth, delivering more emphasis on power pop and direct hooks. After much anticipation, the band released their sixth album, Kiss The Crystal Flake, today under Camera Records.

Much like their previous two releases, The Green Hills of Earth and the Red Tandy EP, Kiss The Crystal Flake continues with the band’s sensible pop approach, which they perfected in 2001. Produced by the band and Dylan Magierek, it’s a very strong effort that lives up to the expectations pushed upon them by their previous handful of acclaimed releases. “This album is almost like a debut album for us,” Tim Bluhm said, “it is very different from anything we recorded in the past.” While Bluhm may be more indicative on that quote toward the crisp production, the band continues to churn out some very catchy songs, reminiscent of their California stereotype. This can be especially heard in “Time We Had”, the third track off of Kiss The Crystal Flake. Bluhm and company showcase a tendency for irresistible vocal melodies, even drawing comparisons to a less distinctive Brian Wilson for a change in pitch during the fitting chorus. If you listen to “Time We Had” and then listen to a song that The Mother Hips wrote sixteen years ago, the difference is quite extraordinary. The developmental growth that The Mother Hips have demonstrated over the years is very gratifying to watch, as die-hard fans can attest to. “TGIM” brings us to a slower approach, with several halted guitar chords constructing a very standard song that is more reflective of the band’s middle years of Shootout or Later Days, even reaching a glimmer of psychedelia with the repetition lingering in the conclusion. The emotional output in “Not So Independent” is satisfying enough, with Bluhm’s best moment coming when he matches the melodies of his guitar and vocals to create an enjoyable collision of sorts. The Mother Hips’ tendency to create genuine pop hooks has not diminished quite yet. Even if their age is slowly beginning to show, they can still compete with the younger and more acclaimed acts. It’s no secret that Kiss The Crystal Flake contains many songs that may be initially difficult to differentiate from one another, though further listening will reveal unique hooks and innovative twists that make the album a rewarding experience for new and old fans alike.

——————————————————————————————

The Mother Hips – Time We Had

——————————————————————————————

The Mother Hips – TGIM

——————————————————————————————

The Mother Hips – Not So Independent

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

BUY

The post The Mother Hips Release Sixth Album, The Crystal Flake appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.