Glam-rock revivals can be a tricky endeavor. One can’t simply assume the presence and personality of a David Bowie or Bryan Ferry, legends of their craft who mixed commanding vocal authority with playful creativity in their songwriting, which was often thematic and ranged from the gloomily haunting to brightly infectious romps. Recent glam-owing artists like Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti and Foxygen concoct certain sounds of the past, which is a challenge in itself, but their music is so striking mainly because it possesses a sort of rare bursting personality; it’s a trait exemplary of the best rock music of the ’60s and ’70s.

Lord Russ follows in their footsteps, with a true-to-heart Bryan Ferry imitation supporting his engaging songwriting. Lord Russ’ vocals mix the deadpan baritone emotion of Ferry or Scott Walker with the spontaneously creative vocal twists of Sparks’ Russell Mael. Russ’ striking homage to glam and psych-rock is perhaps best shown on the track “Cadaques Cabaret”, a journey of pulsating power-rock and Medieval-like woodwind interludes. We learn the title’s name in the spirited chorus, where Russ cuts up the title’s parts into an excitable fervor. Lord Russ is actually from Northampton, Massachusetts, despite sounding authentically British. No matter. This is some blast-to-the-past fun.

Official Site / Soundcloud / Facebook

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Koko and the Sweetmeats, a four-piece from Seattle, recently announced the release of their new record Sacrifice. The band, who were named “Best Garage Band” for 2011 by Seattle Weekly, describe Sacrifice as a concept “double EP”. The six songs on side A are reinterpreted on side B. It’s free for a limited time on their Bandcamp.

Within the first few seconds of listening to the LP, I had the band pegged down as “The Phoenix Foundation but a bit heavier.” And I wish that were true, because it’s a nice sounding description that would make me look sensible in my first article for Obscure Sound. But it just isn’t that easy to pin down. By the end of the first track I decided my descriptive line would be “channeling the spirit of Neil Young.” But no, a few more tracks in and any listener will discover that doesn’t quite nail it either… although I maintain that the singer, Garett Van der Crimp, sounds very similar to the Canadian singer-songwriter, which is certainly no bad thing. But one thing is clear: this record will never, ever be a hit. And this is a record that has no intention of being a hit.

Sacrifice is dense. Not in the stupid sense of the word, but in the fact that almost every song on this 12-track album seems to be covered in a layer of white noise (presumably feedback from a guitar), and this makes it all the more challenging to get to grips with the music, in the best possible way. This is a band that do not underestimate or patronize their listener, which frankly is something this industry has been crying out for lately.

Interestingly, Koko and the Sweetmeats have listed Prince as one of their key influences. This does seem a bit bizarre, as there is nothing on this album to suggest that Prince’s synth-pop and dance-oriented numbers are conducive to Koko’s repertoire. However, excitingly (for me at least) this means there is even more to come from this quartet, who have already showcased loads of potential on this professional and sprawling LP.

If you held me at gunpoint and asked me which single song from this LP to download, I would probably plump for “Love Song to Make Us Millions“, the second track. It’s not just for the wry nod to mainstream pop music in the title either. It features the kind of riff that wouldn’t be amiss on a ’70s rock album, but nicely distorted to fit in with the aforementioned theme of density. It would seem there is too much to this band to base the song on that opening riff, however, and the rest of the track makes it nicely challenging, but possible, for the listener to identify various rhythms within the song. Excellent stuff. Fans of The Brian Jonestown Massacre and The Dandy Warhols should download this immediately.

So to summarize, since it’s currently retailing at the price of $0.00, I can’t recommend downloading this LP enough, if only to give it a chance. You won’t be disappointed.

RIYL: David Bowie, The Dandy Warhols, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Neil Young, The Phoenix Foundation, Smith Westerns

MP3: Koko and the Sweetmeats – Love Song to Make Us Millions (Side A)

MP3: Koko and the Sweetmeats – Will We Ever Make It to the Ocean? (Side A)

Bandcamp / Facebook

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I’m all about recycling, upcycling, composting… anything that reuses materials already on this earth. If a friend wants to use jeans for insulation or to make a quilt out of old clothes, I’d be over in an instant. But recycling music? I was not keen on the idea until I heard Stolen Voices by White Label. While the original samples are extracted from greats like David Bowie, Dennis Wilson, and The Supremes – all of whom need no help lending their creations – White Label redirect the intentions of their memorable classics, no matter how familiar.

Hailing from Scotland, the trio create a full sound that breathes life into older songs that you may not have heard in awhile or at all; many samples are taken from rare and unreleased tracks. Stolen Voices uses only the vocals from the samples, separating voice from background accompaniments and placing them within a full-band arrangement. The results are exciting and have the potential to appeal to a wider audience than previously intended. In a world where one of music’s major purposes is to express emotion and reach other individuals, White Label do these artists a favor by expanding their audience. Beyond that, White Label do not envision the result as their creation. Their name shows this, after all, as a tribute to vinyl records. Stolen Voices covers a wide array of music styles and it is difficult to not find at least one song that suits one’s musical preference.

The album begins with “Jean 1”. The vocals come from The Supremes’ song “Plane”. The keys provide an unexpected intro and give the song a unique vibe, somewhat of a crossover between contemporary indie-pop and throwback soul. The ‘60s soul is still very present, but with added piano, bass, and drums that make it feel more modern.

“Jimmy” takes the song “Sycamore Trees” by Jimmy Scott and makes it sound even more mysterious. Some may already know, but this was a track featured in the final episode of Twin Peaks. It opens with an eerie guitar twang, which sets the stage for cumbersome and tired percussion reminiscent of Badalamenti’s trademark work. The spaced out elements continue with flourishes of synths and a smattering of piano, aided by Scott’s powerfully emotive voice. Indeed it feels as if we are entering into the world of David Lynch. Fortunately, if you look around, you will find we are still in a universe where David Lynch’s characters don’t await under our beds. But when you need a break from the monotony of our world, this tune will transport you to a peculiar place.

The album closes with a loveable favorite, The Beach Boys’ Dennis Wilson. An underrated genius in his own right, it’s nice to see a modern tribute of sorts. “Dennis” features vocals from Dennis Wilson’s song “Carry Me Home”. This track was unreleased; it did not make the cut for the 1973 Beach Boys album Holland. Thankfully White Label uncovered this treasure and altered the song without destroying it. The soft bass and drums fuse effortlessly with the caressing piano. They are the perfect accompaniment to comforting and gentle Wilson vocals. The essence of Wilson is not lost; he is still the main player in this arrangement. As a continuing trend, White Label provide enhancement of a pre-existing gem.

Stolen Voices was a difficult project to undertake. It is taxing to take on the work of an older artist and make it new and worthwhile with a fresh coat of paint. An artist must always ask himself, am I altering it too much or too little? Am I making this song my own? White Label are extremely successful in their venture. It is as if they found old family jewelry, polished it, and gave it a new topcoat. New is not always what is best. Finding new meaning in old material is innovative. Find your favorite artist of the past or maybe artists you have never particularly cared for that are featured on this album, and enjoy listening to it in a new way. Just remember: the voices are stolen, but the arrangements are provided for a new generation to appreciate.

Click here to download Stolen Voices in its entirety.

RIYL: The Supremes, Jean Terrell, Jimmy Webb, Todd Rundgren, The Beatles, Billy MacKenzie, The Associates, Harry Nilsson, Jean King, Billie Holliday, David Bowie, John Martyn, Dennis Wilson, Avalanches

White Label – Jimmy

White Label – Jean 1

White Label – Dennis

Official Site

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Like many Elephant 6 acts, the solo project of Olivia Tremor Control keyboardist Peter Erchick has a mysterious enigma that is propelled by not only a nostalgic psych-pop sound, but also by the infrequency of his releases. His output – under the name Pipes You See, Pipes You Don’t – first appeared with a full-length, Individualized Shirts, in 2001. Apart from a short follow-up in 2003, Erchick hasn’t been very active since. The debut, despite its heavy praise and polished sensibilities, got easily lost among the plethora of E6 releases in the early 2000s. Erchick showcased a penchant for writing infectious pop songs, but many still relegated him in their minds to the producer/instrumentalist role that he largely assumed for OTC. You’d be surprised how many diehard OTC fans haven’t even heard of the album. Individualized Shirts was a great showing of Erchick’s range in the capacity of crisp and flexible production, which in a genre often labeled associated with lo-fi rigidity is a breath of fresh air. The strength of his songwriting has gone somewhat unnoticed, both for reasons of infrequent release dates and label overcrowding. That looks to change now.

After a lengthy wait, Pipes You See, Pipes You Don’t will be releasing new material for the first time since 2003. The bizarrely titled Lost in the Pancakes is Erchick’s most cohesive effort to date, after he dabbled in everything from muddy noise-rock to Big Star-inspired power-pop on Individualized Shirts. But for listeners who found that album’s stylistic range to be one of its strong suits, do not fear. The result here is largely similar in that it captures two feelings simultaneously: one that emits theatrical genre-jumping, and another that makes the sound of a one-man bedroom project particularly surreal. While his sound is only slightly more polished this time around to distance it from DIY stereotypes, Lost in the Pancakes still projects as a very intimate release wherein Erchick’s presence is the only one felt. This was one of the strengths of his debut as well, even alongside E6 celebs like Jeff Mangum and Will Cullen Hart. It was fairly evident Erchick didn’t need anyone else to refine his style, and Lost in the Pancakes is most exemplary of that.

While solo artists who demand such a presence generally are – at least in a stylistic sense – one-trick ponies, Erchick is the opposite. His experience with Olivia Tremor Control has certainly paid off in his production this time around. While it recalls both the theatrical elements of ’70s glam-rock and psych-pop’s reverb-heavy hooks, the presentation of each song never becomes tiring due to each song’s potential for explosive hooks. Like most Elephant 6 “solo projects”, Pipes You See, Pipes You Don’t sounds like a grand-scale band rather than a solo project. The self-titled track is an eerie, ‘60s psych-pop ballad with a bit of dramatic Bowie and Bryan Scary thrown in. The sudden shift to acoustical folk in the middle is especially reminiscent of such acts. The shrill organ in the distance also reminds me of Pulp’s bleaker songs, like “Acrylic Afternoons”, while the jubilant chorus is more in the vein of jangly ‘80s pop, like Aztec Camera.

“Wake Myself to Sleep” just as theatrical, but with a livelier guitar jangle and bass line. The organ in the back, along with an infectious chorus which ends in the song’s title, is superbly infectious and immediately establishes the song as a single-ready gem. Dr. Dog comes to mind most prominently here as a comparison, and like their best songs I imagine this one playing excellently live. “Train in the Station” presently a brief but hauntingly subtle melody, again led by heavily reverbed keys, jangly acoustics, and a remote organ. “A motion-like stillness is all that surrounds me,” Erchick sings in a deadpan delivery that is the most recognizable remnant of his work with Olivia Tremor Control. The bridge in middle is exceptional, recalling the form of vintage ‘70s pop that David Vandervelde recalled so well on his debut. The contrast between Erchick’s deadpan vocals during the verses and perked-up delivery during the chorus is consistent throughout the album, but never to the extent of sounding awkward or forced. His songwriting flows freely, for the most part, and the gorgeous melodies that accompany him are rarely suffocated.

“Refused” sounds like a Brian Wilson solo track, with its whimsical childlike bass line and enhanced key effects aligned with increasing harmonies. The moog-like effect sounds as if it could come from their Love You album. Considering my soft spot for that release, this is one of my favorite tracks on Lost in the Pancakes. Slightly more lukewarm efforts include “Dream Together”, which features droning strings over a simple bass line. It wears on a bit too long before a spacey synth and key progression save it. It is one of the album’s more ambitious songs, and the “come inside” conclusion to chorus works well. It should have been shorter, but the quality speaks nonetheless. “Days Remain” nearly provides a Lennon vibe, with some added humor (“it smells like something died, I know”) and socio-political protest, all headed by a male-female duet. It’s a bit dull, but again not terrible. It is the low point of Lost in the Pancakes, but it is never really very low at all. For the most part, this album is the product of experience and pop songwriting smarts, which Erchick is flaunting better than ever.

RIYL: Olivia Tremor Control, Neutral Milk Hotel, any Elephant 6 band, David Bowie, Bryan Scary & the Shredding Tears, Dr. Dog, David Vandervelde, Elliott Smith, Delta Spirit, Fruit Bats, Blitzen Trapper, The Morning Benders, Dawes

Pipes You See, Pipes You Don’t – Lost in the Pancakes

Pipes You See, Pipes You Don’t – The Train in the Station

Pipes You See, Pipes You Don’t – The Next Anything

Official Site / MySpace / BUY

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by Andrew Kaster

Completing the triptych journey he began four years ago, indie-pop’s Lothario provocateur Kevin Barnes finally exhibits strengths absent from much of Montreal’s recent material: subtlety and depth. Though the trips down realms of blue-eyed soul and processed funk acted as an entertaining diversion from the caustic Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?, it shows that – without the catharsis – Barnes simply isn’t all too interesting (and at times, he can be jarringly annoying). For the good part of three years, of Montreal has been operating solely on fumes and residual spectacle. thecontrollersphere however, is a release so relentlessly catchy and psychologically savage that it draws fourth a somewhat hyperbolic conclusion: this is easily among the best releases from of Montreal. At the very least, it makes up for the “filler-pop” of some recent Of Montreal material.

While still exploring the promiscuous ego of Georgie Fruit, Kevin Barnes cycles through the densest of Montreal release yet. And though he claims that the songs on this EP are merely leftovers from the False Priest sessions, I can’t help but feel that he’s understating their quality by playing coy. Though the funk and soul tinges are still broad enough to recognize this as a logical progression, the songs here certainly don’t feel lifted from the same place, time, or even mindset of the band that recorded Skeletal Lamping and False Priest. The most apparent deviation from Georgie Fruit’s Dionysian mindset is opener “Black Lion Massacre”, a dark avant-garde piece within the vein of This Heat. Further severing his symbiotic relationship with the fictional Mr./Ms. Fruit, the hallucinatory pastoral folk ballad “Flunkt Sass vs. the Root Plume” channels the spirit of early career David Bowie (mellotron and overly dramatic vocals included) to create a nostalgic piece of psychedelia.

The remainder of the album acts as a testament to Barnes’ indefatigable nature and reputation as a pop composer. Whether he’s raiding foreign discotheques for peculiar and alien sounds (such as on the quasi-Mesopotamian epic, “Holiday Call”), or wrestling with the rattle and hum of bi-polarism (i.e. “Slave Translator”), Barnes composes himself with a sort of strategic bravado, the likes of which that made Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer? so compelling. Even the lyricism is becoming more and more compelling as the story of Georgie Fruit retrogresses into a sort of Disco Bloodbath. Deconstructing the celebutante, Barnes drops lines of hopelessness, such as “even this ghetto world that has nothing doesn’t want me” and “I’m cutting myself and I feel like dirt”. Though lewd sex acts are still treated as pillow talk, it’s becoming more and more obvious that the coke trails are coming to an end and Georgie Fruit is becoming more and more spiritually violent.

The orgasms are getting shorter, the ecstasy is wearing off, and all the while the hangovers are deepening. Killing off Georgie Fruit could very well be the smartest artistic choice Barnes has made yet, for it provides a narrative that is emotionally taught, while at the same time, wildly entertaining. When he croons “I was only stabbing your heart because I was trying to get your attention” during the closer, one can’t help but think back to the ostensibly gloomy passages that were sprinkled throughout of Montreal’s poppy palette. Georgie Fruit was fun, but it was little more than an excessive celebratory victory lap. Even though Barnes has always been (and will most likely always will be) firmly rooted in the tenants of camp, pomp, and kitsch, his chameleon transformations will always be unpredictable in one way or another. Will he explore the realms of Euro-centric couture? Experiment with sounds much courses and callous than we’ve become accustomed to? Barnes has always been a man whose genius comes across as accidental in the way in which it blossoms. Much like his spiritual fathers Prince and Bowie, he’s unpredictable in both the best and worst ways possible. If there is anything thecontrollersphere succeeds in, it’s that it makes the future for of Montreal seem much brighter. “Rebirth suicide, rebirth suicide” he mutters on “Slave Translator”. And as history shows, indulging in what seems to be artistic suicide produces the most interesting results.

of Montreal – Slave Translator

of Montreal – Black Lion Massacre

Official Site / MySpace / BUY

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Soft Landing remain somewhat elusive, but the members’ experiences are never in question. Frontman Paul Collins is part of the traveling circus that is Beirut. And so is Perrin Cloutier, who Collins recruited just as Soft Landing passed its preliminary stage. Mike Lawless, Collins’ friend from college, later rounded out the trio as they began recording their debut full-length in Chicago with Icy Demons’ frontman Griffin Rodriguez. The self-titled release predictably found a home with Ba Da Bing Records, the label to bands like Beirut and Shearwater. Soft Landing was released last fall but just recently found its share of press. The trio possesses the same angular approach to rock, folk, and pop that frequent collaborator Zach Condon does, but Soft Landing implement their diverse showing of styles – from tropicalia and mariachi-driven chillwave to twangy folk and rhythmically combustible pop anthems – more succinctly than Condon. The result is not as grandiose or individualized as Beirut, but with greater stylistic prowess and arguably more percussive involvement.

While Condon plays with enjoyably rigid sentiments of Balkan folk and unconventional fusions of electronica, Soft Landing is a breezier and more accessible interpretation of freak-folk, electronica, and art-rock. The world influences are not as striking – like Condon’s Balkan folk – but Soft Landing provide plenty of international flair mainly pertaining to South American and African folk/pop. “Papaya” shows this off well with the exotic woodwind-like synths and fast acoustic arpeggios. One can envision a blue-sky atmosphere, mainly on account of the handclap-percussion and vibrant guitars resembling both an Irish jig and tribal dance. Collins has a voice most comparable to The Veils’ Finn Andrews in a half-nasally half-anthemic croon that fits well, particularly for this fun track.

“Mic Check” boasts a little electro bass gargle and quick strums of a ukulele. During its build-up, Collins’ gradually raises the pitch of his voice until the falsetto signals a fury of percussion, which is mastered subtly in its panning but still unavoidable considering its incredible workmanship within the track. “Mic Check” is constant and somewhat repetitive, but the subtleties inherent in Collins’ vocal usage and percussive involvement prevent even the slightest moment of predictability. The stampede of percussion and revolving synth licks create an infectious quality rarely found in driven works like these and Soft Landing should be commended for it. They are able to manipulate a flimsy synth sound into the capabilities of a retro-friendly organ, and these bursts bring along sentiments of psychedelia and classic-rock that fit seamlessly into Soft Landing’s creative presentations of freak-folk and Balearic-influenced electronica.

A guitar arpeggio and more intensified synth-organs than before propel “Live with Birds” into yet another memorable effort. Big bass drums dominate shortly thereafter, with a poppy synth line only to designed to tease. The initial vocal introduction is complemented by only an acoustic guitar, and this bass drum/synth collaboration reveals itself as a killer hook once it appears again, now laced beautifully under Collins’ soaring vocals. XTC, David Bowie, and Deer Tick are just a few comparisons that come to mind. “Pendleton Woolen” has a type of lush delicacy that the band should pursue more. An acoustic track for the most part, a little bass shuffle enters concurrently with Collins’ voice. “All my kisses turned to ash,” he sings at one point. “I wish I could control the beats of my heart.” This is one of the more aptly emotional tracks on the album, and more developments like these should result in heavy exposure for this promising trio.

RIYL: Beirut, Au, XTC, David Bowie, Deer Tick, Rita Lee, Os Mutantes, Devendra Banhart, Fanfarlo, Andrew Bird

Soft Landing – Mic Check

Soft Landing – Pendleton Woolen

Soft Landing – Baptism

Ba Da Bing Records / BUY

The post Brace for a Soft Landing appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

by Mike Mineo

Kevin Barnes has been both a subject of criticism and acclaim, the latter encouraging his one-of-a-kind talent and the other focusing on his whimsical songwriting, sometimes resulting in efforts where he sings grating falsetto over music with no backbone. His songwriting has brought moments of incomparable pop brilliance, illustrated broadly on Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?, and there is no doubting the flamboyant frontman’s talents, but listeners are often forced to tread through lackluster moments to reach the dizzying heights of melodic and conceptual goodness that range in styles from glam and funk to straight-cut indie-rock.

These heights are admittedly grander than most indie-rock bands of the ’00s and Of Montreal’s success is well-deserved. After all, Barnes’ erratic songwriting and idiosyncratic methods can make their stunning moments that much more effective. But it also makes the filler increasingly evident, making it hard to distinguish whether Barnes is working toward a killer hook, thematic message, or an all-out jam session. If the band called it wraps now, 2007’s Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer? would likely be considered their masterpiece, if only for the fact that it captures a cohesive format – both musically and lyrically – that Barnes is somewhat reluctant to embrace.

With their new album, False Priest, Barnes and co. have broken new ground in perfectly juggling their ambition with some much-needed cohesiveness. To some dismay, there are no efforts here that specialize in noise-rock or even psychedelia. Still, if one is able to push Barnes’ past stylistic experimentation out the window, then the embrace for False Priest should be easy to understand. It offers the most straightforward set of pop songs Of Montreal have produced in their career, which would be an issue if not for the fact that the melodies and lyrical content are both remarkably consistent and tolerably ambitious. The humor and wit is prevalent as usual, but now offered in a more congenial format where traditional structures are embraced and big-time choruses are able to repeat more than once. The delivery and confidence is immediately comparable to Hissing Fauna, Are You the Destroyer?, except for the fact that False Priest offers production with greater clarity (courtesy of Jon Brion).

As amazing as some of the sounds Of Montreal were able to produce using VST plugins alone, Brion’s presence here is undeniably beneficial. It was not vital per say, but it is always preferable to smoke a Cuban over a 7-11 dutch. In addition to albums by Big Boi and Gorillaz, False Priest is one of the best produced albums of 2010 in its polished quality alone. And like those, it would be safe to say there are not any blatant duds on the album, even if some are incomparably greater than others. The first song on the album, “I Feel Ya Strutter”, might actually be the weakest with its rushed delivery and underwhelming chorus, which is a great example of how Barnes over-estimates the power of a falsetto over a melody that simply does not satisfy. This may be the only track on False Priest that favors stylistic fetishism over quality songwriting, a plague that occurred to Skeletal Lamping. Other efforts like “Our Riotous Defects” and “Hydra Fancies” elegantly build toward a well-constructed chorus, while “I Feel Ya Strutter” shows rushed composure in literally writing a song around the chorus. Unlike its predecessor though, False Priest only gets better after the first track.

“Our Riotous Defects” encompasses what most people love about Of Montreal. When Barnes employs his falsetto over a bare piano like he does in the beginning here, he places a heavy reliance on the current melody and that which follows. Here, the explosive electro-funk chorus bursts with an energy familiar to fans of tracks like “Bunny Ain’t No Kind of Rider”, where subtle laid-back melodies eventually conjoin for a memorable chorus. “Crazy girl, you’re just a crazy girl!” Barnes yelps over the ascending synths. “I don’t know why, I even try, to understand you!” As you can see here, psychotic partners and the venomous relationships they create and self-destruct is essentially the concept of False Priest, and this is enforced most coherently on the irresistible “Famine Affair”.

Drawing some inspiration from Robert Smith for sure, “Famine Affair” is a concisely catchy indie-pop effort that relies on boosted bass, a crystallized synth pad, and a playful little electric guitar. The lyrics are intentionally simplistic – “you’re a bad thing! a useless thing!” – but that is exactly the point. “I thought she was my Annie Hall, or at least Ali MacGraw,” Barnes starts during the song’s most infectious moments, not sounding the least bit rushed. The keyboards during this section are exceptionally harmonious and this really shows what Barnes is capable of doing when he writes down a thematically coherent song with no disdain for traditional structures. The next effort, “Casualty of You”, expands upon the track’s ideology with a significantly more melodramatic presentation. Strings and piano are the main players here, the strings reaching unparalleled emotional representation during the song’s middle parts. Suffering at the hands of a “significant other” with no regard for your well-being is masterfully delivered as well, with this two-minute orchestral addition providing excellent closure to the preceding “Famine Affair”.

As for the meat of False Priest, there is nothing to complain about beyond the opening track and the closer, a terribly jumbled and incoherent “You Do Mutilate?”. The album should have concluded with the swankily infectious “Around the Way”. These are poor bookends but the album in its entirety is outstanding, the three unmentioned standouts being “Godly Intersex”, “Enemy Gene”, and “Hydra Fancies”. These consecutive tracks offer ten straight minutes of Barnes at his peak, showing a vein of songwriting that coincides with his impressive ambition without appearing too cluttered or disjointed. Guest vocalist Janelle Monáe continues her sweeping collaborative success this year with “Enemy Gene”, a track that begins with Gorillaz-like grimey electronica and then succumbs to pure pop elegance, courtesy of Ms. Monáe’s gripping presence and Barnes’ pre-destined intentions to write this song specifically for her inclusion. Expect this one to be on the radio.

“Hydra Fancies” has an elegant, retro pop feel to it during its chorus, even if it is juxtaposed by somewhat of an overly active series of verses that portrary funk more than delicate pop. The transition from verse to chorus is a bit rough as a result, but the song receives high marks for its hybrid of restrained pop goodness, wonderfully enthralling vocal harmonics, and delightful synth solo that wraps it all up. “Godly Intersex” is a personal favorite and easily engages from the beginning with its bubbly synth presentation. And of course, as the title entails, there are plenty of lyrical quips typical of Barnes. Infatuation, abuse, and neglect – as stark as they be to each other – are feelings conveyed by Barnes all throughout False Priest, and his proper variation of humor and serious infliction help aid an album that is emotionally demanding, humorously witty, and melodically superb. Not to mention, both the songwriting and production is the most cohesive out of the band’s ten albums. Even if it lacks the balls-out ambition of its predecessors, False Priest is a phenomenal accomplishment for Of Montreal.

9.0/10.0

RIYL: David Bowie, Funkadelic, The Oliva Tremor Control, The Apples in Stereo, The Unicorns, Beulah, Elf Power, The Fiery Furrnaces, Circulatory System, The Magnetic Fields, The Boy Least Likely To, Animal Collective, Starlight Mints, Tilly and the Wall, The Decemberists, Tilly and the Wall, The Silent League, Dressy Bessy

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Of Montreal – Coquet Coquette

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Oops! I’m not allowed to post either “Famine Affair” or “Godly Intersex”, but definitely seek those out (+ the entire album) on your own!

The clip below has the following songs in the specified order:
“Our Riotous Defects” -> “Hydra Fancies” -> “Godly Intersex” -> “Like a Tourist” -> “Enemy Gene”

Official Site

MySpace

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The post Of Montreal – False Priest (2010) appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

“Early Bird” quickly transitions between haunting organ sounds and quick swipes of guitar, the former more in the vein of neo-psychedelia and the latter more like garage-rock. A lovely meshing of vintage sounds, to be sure, much like contemporaries in the vein of Ariel Pink. Lotus Feet show comfort in their influences only to a certain extent though, as their musicianship is apparent in itself. They draw upon Pink Floyd influences later in the track with clashing frequencies and samples, all retained over the original melody that is fixed in organs, guitars, and a very pronounced bass. The beginning will probably draw comparisons to The Doors first, since Jim Morrison’s voice is naturally comparable all throughout Animals in the Attic. Think if ever Morrison was attached to a Pink Floyd project. Lotus Feet is the closest you can get to that, so it helps that the musicians involved are all impeccably collected.

The icy keys in “Child’s Play” sounds like it would be more at home in a Björk track, and it certainly sounds odd considering the two preceding tracks, ” Early Bird” and “Evidence”, is brisk neo-psychedelia with a vast assortment of instrumentation. But by the time the chorus arrives in “Child’s Play”, with its caressing bass and reflective guitar tones, the serene feeling of psychedelia re-emerges. “The apple I see fell far from the tree,” the mysterious voice sings, constantly evoking natural images as he treads through the gentle arrangement. The production is strongly reminiscent of The Velvet Underground, with monotonous vocal deliveries emerging as champions over laid-back musical accompaniments that, underneath their placidity, are remarkably brilliant and complex. “Nothing to stress about while we’re still young,” he sings, capricious like Jens Lekman but complexly ambitious like Lou Reed. Like most of Lotus Feet’s tracks, influences are strong, but the band’s original songwriting is even stronger.

Lotus Feet could sound at home in any darkly mysterious film, particularly if David Lynch ever created some homage to the ’70s psychedelic scene. That might be a mistake though, as Lotus Feet’s music is the type that demands your attention. It will not reach conventional radio due to its broad scope, as the songs could delightfully stretch to 10+ minutes if need be and still sound adventurous and captivating. All eight songs on Animals in the Attic have their moment, per say, and most have several ones that recall nostalgically inventive songwriting at its finest. “Cold Days” almost gets caught up in its post-rock construction from time to time, while the subsequent “Hibernation” follows up on that desire and is a blissed-out space instrumental until the two-minute mark, when high-pitched strings and choir-like vocals serve as introductory measures to a folky interlude. The sound of an acoustic guitar here is particularly welcome, along with a lighthearted vocal accompaniment that for the first time on Animals in the Attic recalls perky ’60s pop more than brooding psychedelia and post-rock.

Speaking of David Lynch, “Sunshine” sounds like it could have been lifted straight out of Twin Peaks. A video of The Man From Another Place dancing along to this and snapping has fingers has to be out there somewhere. It serves as a nice lead-in to the similarly retro “Take Time (Cabaret)”, which sounds like early Dr. Dog material. This is probably as far back as the album spans, with this being an ode to music of ’40s and ’50s both lyrically and music. “As long as the song’s in four-four time, oh the youngsters they won’t mind,” he sings aptly. The closer “Under the Blankets” fronts a haunting croon, a delicate acoustic guitar, and the sound of crickets and wildlife. An occasional flicker of keys give the track a translucent and nightly feel, establishing a fantastic mood to wind down after an extremely ambitious album. It solidifies the point that every song on Animals in the Attic is worthwhile, even if the sheer amount of ideas can be daunting to tackle. Give it a chance though. It is one of the most successfully ambitious albums of the year.

RIYL: Pink Floyd, The Doors, Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti, The Velvet Underground, Dr. Dog, Abernethy, David Bowie, Lou Reed, The Zombies, King Crimson, Jefferson Airplane, The Who, The Kinks, Jethro Tull, Camel, Porcupine Tree, Cream, Teenage Fanclub, Big Star, Iron Butterfly, Wishbone Ash

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Lotus Feet – Early Bird

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Lotus Feet – Child’s Play

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Lotus Feet – Evidence

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by Taylor DeBoer

If Funeral was the personal homage to life, love, and loss, as Neon Bible was a straight shot at the gut of political immoral corruption, then Arcade Fire’s The Suburbs is merely a simple acknowledgment of the two concepts. Not to mention, the powerful realization that “we can’t run from our upbringing”, especially when two-story brick houses and shopping malls stand in our way. And as Win Butler and company convey on their third album, each new generation is engulfed in a more brutal “suburban war.” With so much indie cred on the line, Arcade Fire delivers once again with their longest, most expansive album yet.

The Suburbs starts appropriately, with a title track that works as both a contrived summary and introduction to the fifteen songs that follow. Although not the strongest of the album, it serves its purpose. It then rolls into “Ready to Start”, which is a typical bombastic collective of Arcade Fire proportions, a jump-the-gun type of song. “Modern Man” in my opinion is where the beauty and originality of the album starts. With lyrics that strike the heart wires of Bowie fans, it questions what to some might be obvious, but to many is obscure–is the modern world in a productive progression?

Then comes the poppy “Rococo”, which appears to jab at the youth and their obsession with trend. In this case, a “terrible” song that has an infectious chorus. You can’t help but sing along to Butler’s quivering voice as he repeats “rococo” over and over. Blasting into “Empty Room” Butler has help on vocals from his wife Régine Chassagne. The shorter, but poignant song works as a nice easy transition into the New Wave sound of “City with No Children.” The nostalgic lyrics prove that Butler and crew have spent time listening to the likes of Bruce Springsteen and Neil Young, if that wasn’t already obvious. “Half Light I’s” slow build and Chassagne’s lofty voice creates a circus-like environment reminiscent of Funeral. Its dream like nature is once again a perfect pace-changer for the album. Their ability to keep the audience constantly interested and guessing is impressive.

Through the sad and desperate pace of “Half Light II”, we see a more personal Butler as he references his personal life with his wife, Regina, as well as his childhood. It has an Americana feel once again, which adds a unique tinge to the American perspective coming from a predominately Canadian band. The ending phrase, “one day they’ll see, it’s long gone,” rings through the brain long after the song ends.

“Suburban War” continues with the same melancholy style of “Half Light II”, but with a choppier composition. “They say the past won’t rest until you jump the fence and leave it behind,” Butler calmly sings. More than their first two albums, Arcade Fire are offering some solutions to the problems they address. “Month of May” is perhaps the only song that could fit on Neon Bible, their slightly less popular sophomore album, and would be a fitting opening to an Arcade Fire show.

“Wasted Hours” and “Deep Blue” return to the somber pace but only for a moment, then we’re hit with the slow but powerful build of “We Used to Wait.” “By the time we met, the times had already changed,” Butler sings.

“Sprawl I and II” help add to the lonely feeling of realizing that the things you used to recognize have changed dramatically. The saddened musical melody of “Sprawl I” makes it hard to not feel hopeless until the very end when Butler manages to bring it all back and inject us with just a bit of hope once again.

The trippy feel of “Sprawl II”  compliments the somberness of part I. We are once again graced with Chassagne’s voice. Comparing shopping malls and urban development to mountains is not only gut-wrenching but incredibly accurate. The extended metaphor can get grating, but most of the time it works.

The final song, “The Suburbs (continued)”  is in the same tone as “The Suburbs” but with Butler stretching his voice to an even higher falsetto. It’s a fitting end to a masterpiece, and may even be more satisfying than the initial creation.

Yeah sure, The Suburbs is filled with a lot of reoccurring words like “kids, houses, streets, and suburbs”. But instead of writing them off as cliche and unoriginal, consider the weight behind these words. The Suburbs is an analysis, a call to action, and a homage to the topsy-turvy, suburban world we live in. Few artists have been able to reach out to the youth in such an infectious way. Their songs are dark, dreamy, nostalgic, religious, extremely powerful, but oddly hopeful and their shows are the same way. And they manage to do it all on an indie label and without the aide of digital recording. But even Butler knows that resisting the world that plagues us is impossible. At the very least, we have The Suburbs to celebrate over.

You can download it here for a ridiculous $3.99.

8.0/10.0

RIYL: Broken Social Scene, Bruce Springsteen, The National, Wolf Parade, Tokyo Police Club, Neutral Milk Hotel, Modest Mouse, The Shins, Spoon, Band of Horses, The New Pornographers, My Morning Jacket, TV on the Radio, Cold War Kids, Stars, Radiohead, David Bowie, The Antlers, The Walkmen, Editors, Pavement, Yeasayer, Built to Spill

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Arcade Fire – Rococo

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Arcade Fire – Ready to Start

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Pop music formed by ’60s girl groups are often subjected to ancient stereotypes. Joyous harmonies, lyrics consisting of nothing more than multiply layered “doo-wop-da-doo-wop”s, and a subtle sway of the hips for sex appeal (or the most of what was allowed of it on TV at the time). While much of what was considered “mainstream” at the time did confine to these characteristics, left-field girl-groups like The Shangri-Las expelled emotions with somewhat of risk through the inclusion of thematically appropriate music without regard for radio popularity. Contrary to the bouncy fanfare of rock hits or the romanticized demeanor of ballads on the radio, several decided to pursue artistic expression without regard for what the general public was seeking: talented women producing a brand of pleasantly engaging pop that fit nicely next to the works of contemporary pop from The Beatles, The Zombies, and other then-bustling British invasion bands.

The Shangri-Las’ devastating “Past, Present and Future”, which has been covered with adoration by Jens Lekman, details the abandonment of love’s pursuit after the ending of a first relationship. The theme is common today and even with rock groups at the time, but the way The Shangri-las delivered this song with its gritty first-person narrative, somber touch of strings and keys, and utter disregard for radio-friendly structural optimism was entirely unique for groups of their vein at the time. It felt realer than anything else on the radio at the time, and simply listening to it will make one understand how Jens Lekman moved the audience to tears after his rendition of it. Referring to the fate-dependent fortune of love, the song ends with a gloomy “I don’t think it will ever happen again” before abruptly concluding. Sure, any artist can be rebellious in regard to attaining commercialized exposure, but few can take as many risks and succeed as often as The Shangri-Las did.

The Secret History is a stylish trio from New York City, one that deals in an interesting fusion of girl-group pop and glam-rock that combines the subtle emotional rawness and prevalent capriciousness of each respective genre. The former is labeled as one with a history of restraint, categorized both by gender treatment and a time that was more conservative than today. Glam, on the other hand, is one of the more prominent forms of artistic expression that truly had no boundaries. It took place in a period of cultural reprieve, in the ’70s and ’80s when the baby boomers of the ’60s had grown accustomed to more flexible treatment of previously “inappropriate” aspects of media. To find both of these periods and genres collide is certainly interesting, and I applaud The Secret History for producing a sound that is both infectiously over-the-top and emotionally representative; it does both movements justice.

In the spirit of the World Cup, the intro to the anthemic “Johnny Anorak” sounds no different than a frenzied pub at kick-off. Appropriately enough, as the song lacks nothing in terms of achieving its expectations as a pulsating opener. The pulsating guitars and vigorous percussion in the early goings suggest the looming presence of a domineering voice, one that disproportionately and disappointingly steals the spotlight from the music. Lisa Ronson, the daughter of glam legend Mick Ronson, prevents this from happening with her utterly perfect voice, at least for the style of music her band is attempting. Her lack of submissiveness to predictable melodic patterns excludes her from typical girl-group comparisons, but her harmonic capabilities and stylistically aligning pitch make the presence more girl-pop than glam-rock. This is a very fortunate twist, as it is what truly creates the cohesiveness within the relationship between glam-rock and girl-group pop for The Secret History.

The instrumentation in most of their songs is definitely more on the glam-rock side, recalling specifically the earlier work of Manic Street Preachers in their simultaneously catchy and thought-provoking mixture of glam and alt-rock. Ronson has more of a Morrissey-like deepness vibrato in “Death Mods”, going as far to echo his overly dramatic delivery in the lyrics. “Life is hard but death is harder,” she sings seemingly tongue-in-cheek, “So I took up with an underage martyr.” Then she speaks of children killing the babysitter and, well, the effort is entertaining at the very least. Not exactly in the vein of the immediately accessible “Johnny Anorak” or “Our Lady of Stalingrad”, but it will have its fans. This track could perhaps earn them an opening slot for Morrissey, though honestly at this point after the release of their excellent second album The World That Never Was they are destined for greater things. Their music is polished and insanely addictive, all while avoiding the generic production tendencies of modern indie-rock.

RIYL: My Favorite, Cats on Fire, The Aislers Set, Les Savy Fav, Sambassadeur, Gigi, The Lodger, David Bowie, The Shangri-Las, The Mynabirds, Another Sunny Day, The Orchids, The Indelicates, The Field Mice, Beulah, Language of Flowers, Rose Melberg, Stars, The Long Blondes, The New Pornographers, Comet Gain, Saturday Looks Good to Me

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The Secret History – Our Lady of Stalingrad

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The Secret History – Johnny Anorak

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The Secret History – Death Mods

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