Afternoon naps are a pretty amiable thing to name your band after, even if it is hardly the most exciting. These few hours are simple but highly productive, at least in the sense that recuperation amidst a weekday’s chaos is rare, and these are the reasons why it can be so enjoyable. Although somewhat misleading, this was precisely the intention the Cleveland-based Afternoon Naps had when exposing their sound. They do not hold back that their structures are traditional, their instrumental selection is restrained, or that their influences have been making great power-pop before them. It sounds familiar and simple, just like their namesake, and this is ironically why their second full-length album, Parade, has resulted in such a success. It sounds like a product of shimmering jangle-rock, catchy ’60s pop, and richly arranged Brit-pop, all genres interconnected by a similar tendency to remain durable, accessible, and musically impressive throughout the simplest of appearances. Simplicity does not always correlate with predictability though; guitars, keys, synths, and bass were all lead instruments at some point for the greatest of these artists in their respective genres. Afternoon Maps should become notable with Parade for applying just this, which results in a remarkable sophomore effort that sounds both freshly invigorating and oddly nostalgic.

Based around songwriters Tom Dechristofaro and Leia Hohenfeld, Afternoon Naps have a very reliable formula that works tremendously on Parade. They wear their psychedelic-pop and retrospective influences on their sleeves, but tracks like “Mitten Fingers” sound all too relevant today. This marvel of an effort propels the group to pop perfection with little more than a few swipes of an electric guitar, a droning organ, and a dual male-female vocal delivery executed with precision. It begins how it ends, with a single repeating riff occasionally complemented by gurgles of synth or blobs of bass. But when Dechristofaro and Hohenfeld travel together into a truly beautiful chorus, the high-pitched pad status of the synthesizer complements the ever-continuing guitar riff brilliantly and listeners will likely be left in awe of the group’s melodic grasp. This is the type of wonderful theatrics groups like Teenage Fanclub were able to touch on, who were also another group creating shimmering power-pop from a locale with more clouds than sunshine (Glasgow). Afternoon Naps are so consistent in their unique blend of influences though that just one influence would be unjust. The xylophone twinkling over the wavering synths and acoustic guitars on “Seasons May Change” appears more contemporary with its indie-pop fixings, even if the full acoustics resemble the jangly likes of The Go-Betweens or The Smiths (with a more optimistic demeanor, of course).

Some of the finest creations on Parade are influenced by psychedelic-pop, as “Beach Bums” could easily show. Complete with its lead organ, bustling rhythm guitar, and accompanying acoustics, “Anything you want to ask of me just whisper it to the breeze,” they both sing. “I will try my hardest not to scream as waves crash on top of me.” The melodrama of ’80s British post-punk and jangle-pop is certainly evident in the lyrical content and vocal tone of both singers, but the melody is more distinctively reminiscent of psychedelic-pop with its hazy underlying production and use of reverb. Tracks more enamored with old-fashioned ’60s pop tend to treat the tradition nicely, only adding spotty warbles of synth for an updated effect. Hohenfeld takes the role of girl-pop chanteuse on “The Day We Started”, a track that would have sounded appropriate on God Help the Girl’s ’60s-inspired debut. This simultaneous emphasis on both ’60s pop and contemporary indie-pop makes the comparison to Stuart Murdoch and such aforementioned probably the most accurate you can make for Afternoon Naps “Bubblegum 45” is another fun effort, reminding me vividly of Pizzicato 5 with its fast-paced vocal deliveries (often with their “ba-da-ba-ba-ba”-ing) and vigorous woodwind accompaniments. This makes it one of the album’s most unclassifiable efforts, which sits nicely alongside more focused themes in the vein of psychedelia of jangle-pop.

Parade is certainly a colorful album with its nostalgic influences and sharp production, with most of its songs refusing to keep in a straight stylistic line. This is why it is hardly surprising that “Discoverse” goes balls-out disco with its funky synth lines and addictive bass lines. It is not the most technically impressive effort from the group, but the instrumental interlude that closes out the final minute of the song is remarkable in its imitation of a genre mostly swooped up for mockery. “Discoverse” is one of the few fun disco re-interpretations out there, even if the band manages to cloak most of the genre’s embarrassments in great pop songwriting. This is hardly hidden, however, on the majestic opener, “Plum City Fight Song”. Dramatic strings, soaring guitars, and dual vocal deliveries establish quite the presence for Afternoon Naps from the get-go. The best thing about Parade is how the group sustains its continuous excellence despite the stylistic twists and turns they may undertake. Afternoon Naps have clearly separated themselves from their peers with ingenious songwriting and production, delivering fresh excellence while never letting go of the influences that were so essential in helping them craft this album.

8.5/10.0

RIYL: God Help the Girl, Teenage Fanclub, Belle & Sebastian, Field Music, Pizzicato 5, The Lucksmiths

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Afternoon Naps – Beach Bums

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Afternoon Naps – Mitten Fingers

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Afternoon Naps – Bubblegum 45

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HHBTM Records

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The post Afternoon Naps – Parade (2009) appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

Belle & Sebastian have always been one of the finest examples of how simplicity and intricacy are not exclusive entities in music. The Glasgow-based group’s melodies have always been extremely accessible; the arrangements feature consuming assortments of keys and orchestral elements that are smoothly integrated under Stuart Murdoch’s wistful, choir boy-like vocals. His delivery is filled with a harmonically satisfying touch of innocence, making his elaborate lyrical content catch many first-time listeners off guard when they come to expect stories of generic romance. Murdoch’s accessible exterior is upheld by a thought-provoking interior that has done extraordinary justice on the common perception of Belle & Sebastian. Murdoch is a gifted songwriter and most of his content exceeds indie-pop contemporaries by a long mile, but it is his subtle ambition that has made Belle & Sebastian one of the most recognizable groups of the indie-pop era. Murdoch’s touches of conceptual and metaphorical brilliance within an instantaneously accessible vein of pop music has earned them rampant comparisons to Simon & Garfunkel. They were responsible for bringing an accessible but poetically invigorating form of folk-rock to the masses in the late ‘60s, and Belle & Sebastian did similarly in the late ‘90s with their blissful interpretation of indie-pop. Their success has continued this decade, and a new project from Murdoch is further indication of his willingness to fuse a simple concept with enjoyable intricacies that are quite easy to overlook.

It is almost painful for music fans to recognize that there are thousands of songs written by legendary artists that will never be uncovered, all because the artist deemed the material not suitable enough for a certain album or style that was synonymous with them or their label. Murdoch has released seven albums and numerous EPs since 1996, so his work ethic is of no question. It also means that, like many other musicians, he likely has a bunch of songs lying around that will never see the light of day. Belle & Sebastian’s remarkable consistency shows that they comprehend quality though, so I doubt Murdoch could go without releasing something worthwhile if he has it on his shelf. Murdoch revealed his initial intentions surrounding his new project, God Help the Girl, in August 2007, stating in a blog entry that he was looking for three vocalists (two girls, one guy) to help him with it. Contestants submitted a self-portrait and a recording of their vocals over instrumental versions of two Belle & Sebastian songs, “Funny Little Frog” and “The Psychiatrist Is In.” Belle & Sebastian are typically seen as rather low-key in their recording methods, rarely reaching for the grandiose or overly spectacular. But this method, while different, coincides with the group’s personable music in that they do not need big names to achieve success. In fact, one of the main stars on God Help the Girl is making her first major appearance.

For God Help the Girl, the style of music may be a tinge different, but the level of quality remains the same. The official web site coins God Help the Girl as a mixture of “musicals, sixties’ girl groups, eighties’ indie and, most of all, classic pop records.” The charm of Murdoch’s songwriting and the Belle & Sebastian band’s background instrumentation is familiar and constantly refreshing, but the additional emphasis on the girl-group pop ideology provides a fascinating flux toward Murdoch’s chirpy indie-pop or acoustical tales. Catherine Ireton won the user-submitted grand prize and is the lead vocalist on most of the project’s album, presenting an extremely powerful voice that is ardent enough to fit both in the girl groups of the ‘60s and the fashionable indie-rock of the ‘80s. If her voice sounds familiar to Belle & Sebastian fans then that is because she provided backing vocals on The Life Pursuit’s “White Collar Boy.” It is not all Ireton and Murdoch on the album though, as Belle & Sebastian’s fame has admittedly awarded them with some privileges. A 45-piece orchestra directed by Rick Wentworth (Withnail & I) appears throughout the album, and The Divine Comedy’s Neil Hannon lends his orchestral-pop chops on the highly amusing “Perfection as a Hipster.” Hannon and Murdoch, both brilliant songwriters in their own right, provide for a fantastic collaboration that capitalizes on both of their oddball pop appeal. In addition to the excellent collection of songs on God Help the Girl, it eludes to several potential collaborative successes; Hannon-Murdoch, Murdoch-Ireton, and even Hannon-Ireton (as shown on “Perfection as Hipster”) are all successful collaborations, which serves appropriate on an album that shows collaboration as an excellent practice when under the watchful eyes of someone as talented as Murdoch.

In regard to the correspondence between Murdoch, Ireton, and their shared girl-group fetish, the self-titled track plays with the clichés of girl groups while maintaining originality, modernistic relevance, and the majestic pop songwriting that one could come to expect on any great Belle & Sebastian album. “There is no way I’m looking for a boyfriend,” Ireton begins the track, her vocals prominent over a poppy bass line and a combination of subdued guitars and keys. In typical ‘60s pop fashion, the strings kick in during the chorus as Ireton unveils the song’s hook in excellent fashion. The lyrical content is more straightforward than one would expect from Murdoch, but one has to keep in mind the track’s resemblance to girl-group pop. If there were any interpretable tangents, it would have been a detriment. Also, since God Help the Girl is designed to serve as the basis and soundtrack for a Murdoch-written movie by the same name, one would have to assume that all the content is precisely crafted here. The film starts production in 2010 and though no one can say for sure whether it will be good or not, the one certainty is that the film’s soundtrack will be great.

“Musicians, Please Take Heed” is another stroke of excellence, being more brooding and developmental than most of the tracks on the album. The transition in mood is reminiscent of how The Shangri-Las were able to infuse a girl-group delivery into songs that were bleaker than the ‘60s pop stereotype suggests. The elaborate explanation of hallucinogens and drug-induced hallucinations is more indicative of Murdoch’s usual intricacies here, and the sweeping strings over the steady woodwinds and brisk bass line provide excellent support for a track that serves as one of the biggest stylistic successes on the album. Upon my first several listens though, God Help the Girl shows that it certainly has what it takes to rank among Belle & Sebastian’s finest material, even if Murdoch claims it too be different from his usual material. Regardless, it succeeds tremendously and echoes the similar sentiments of consistency, melodic appeal, and replay-ability that have made Belle & Sebastian household names in indie-pop. If one is a fan of either girl groups or Belle & Sebastian, this one is definitely worth picking up when it is released on June 22nd. And if you are a fan of both, this may end up being one of your yearly favorites.

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God Help the Girl – God Help the Girl

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God Help the Girl – Musicians, Please Take Heed

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God Help the Girl – Perfection as a Hipster

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Official Web Site

MySpace

Matador Records

The post God Help the Girl appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

With acclaimed artists like Belle & Sebastian, Franz Ferdinand, and Mogwai becoming highly reputable names over the past few years, even the youngest of indie-rock fans are beginning to recognize the Scottish town of Glasgow as arguably the most productive city for new and talented musicians. While one would be able to make a compelling argument for other cities being more active in relevance to music-related quantities or other financial matters, the music scene in Glasgow has always been recognized as ceaselessly exciting due to the sheer amount of stylistic variety. There are no forms of stereotypical rock ‘n’ roll, hip hop, or country to be expected from the city’s most successful artists, but rather a smörgåsbord of different artists who achieve success from stylistic methods that differ dramatically from one another. Whether one prefers the epic post-rock of Mogwai, contemporary indie-rock in the vein of Franz Ferdinand and The Fratellis, or varied legends of their craft like Aztec Camera, Teenage Fanclub, and Orange Juice, Glasgow is a city where musical tastes are not a variable factor in an equation for artistic enjoyment; one will find some form of localized satisfaction regardless of their preferences, as the city offers a plethora of artists suited for a wide array of tastes.

Though Glasgow serves up plenty of artists who take their style from no geographical archetypes, Frightened Rabbit happen to be a band that American and British fans will have a difficult time differentiating from the form of indie-rock that they have grown accustomed to. I mean that mainly as a compliment too, as the four-piece sees substantial success from a generally accessible methods of successful indie-rock songwriting that rely on overlapping vocal melodies, driving guitar progressions, and steadfast rhythm sections in similar forms to that of western indie-rock staples like Modest Mouse, The Shins, and even the Arcade Fire when their early releases propelled them into a state of cult-like fanaticism. Like fellow Glasgow-based contemporaries Belle & Sebastian, Frightened Rabbits’ broad sense of ambition remains admirably prevalent, yet they allow enough room for such aforementioned classifications of indie-rock conventionalism too be classified more appropriately as independent futurists. Founding members Scott and Grant Hutchison probably meant for their craft to be delivered in such a familiarly comforting form as well, as the brothers have shown a noteworthy amount of potential since they formed the group in 2004. With Scott as a guitarist and Grant as a percussionist, the two originally began writing songs and preforming them for family members. Upon the urging of friends and family, they eventually decided to pursue the project full-time. Guitarist Billy Kennedy joined the group in 2006, with bassist Andy Monaghan making his debut with the band earlier this year.

When Frightened Rabbits started work on their second album, The Midnight Organ Fight, the four members found themselves in a position that was quite unfamiliar to them. For the first time in their musical careers, they had others apart from their families and friends in Glasgow who recognized their talent. Because of their critically acclaimed debut, Sing the Greys, in 2006, Universal decided to pick up the album and re-release it in the U.S. and U.K. last year. Now, after playing at a variety of American shows and festivals like SXSW in a coinciding effort with their re-release, they have amassed an overseas audience that is very respectable for a band with merely one album. On an artistic standpoint, The Midnight Organ Fight also proves to be the first opportunity for the group to rework any of the minor flaws that dragged Sing the Greys down. Considering that it got in the hands of many people, they likely had plenty of critiques to work off of. Well, whichever method they chose to use, The Midnight Organ Fight is a significant step-up from their impressive debut. Produced by Peter Katis (he was behind the first two Interpol albums and the two most recent albums from The National), it represents an improvement upon both aspects of production and the songwriting.

The four members of Frightened Rabbit also consider The Midnight Organ Fight to be the most personal piece of art they have released. “This album [The Midnight Organ Fight] is a lot more intense than the first one. There’s a lot more blunt imagery,” Scott Hutchison said, alluding to the somber feelings of suicide, depression, and regret that lingers throughout the album. Still though, Scott considers optimism to be a proud component of his band’s lyrical output. “I always feel that no matter how morose the subject matter, there’s always a way that we – as a group – find of putting a positive slant on it, whether it be a depressing lyric put to a really pleasant melody or just a positive spin in the end. I hope people don’t feel depressed when they listen to our music.” With the abundance of hooks, fleeting melodies, and underlying instrumental additives, I doubt Scott has any reason to worry about listeners feeling down. Take the opening “The Modern Leper” for instance, an infectious tune whose success owes a significant amount to Hutchison’s distinctive Scottish accent. In stark contrast to Glasgow-based bands like Belle & Sebastian or The Jesus and Mary Chain, their accent is enjoyably evident and adds a uniquely enjoyable flavor to the result. Despite the lyrics foretelling the impact that ignorance has on societal limitations, melodic elements like Hutchison’s genuine yelp during the song’s bursting chorus can’t help but remind listeners that hope always has a chance of prevailing in the end. And on Frightened Rabbits’ gratifying Midnight Organ Fight, the sense of hope has turned simply into an element of great expectancy; instead of treading in unfamiliar waters, Frightened Rabbits’ newest effort commendably shows them as a band comfortable with their own stylistic delivery.

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Frightened Rabbit – The Modern Leper

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Frightened Rabbit – Fast Blood

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Frightened Rabbit – Head Rolls Off

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Official Web Site

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Sometimes the oddest of mixtures can bring a band together. For The Afternoons, it was a mutual love for the prolific David Bowie and the spicy Indian dish, curry. Hey, whatever works. Since their formation in 1999, lead vocalist/guitarist Richard Griffiths, guitarist Jason Huxley, bassist Sarah Rapi, keyboardist Paul Rapi, and drummer Pete Morgan have been crafting a favorable blend of vintage Brit-pop and 90s alternative with a touch of throwback British invasion. Based out of Cardiff, this Welsh five-piece have been flying under the radar since 2001 with the release of their commendable first album, The Days We Found in the Sun. With expertly crafted melodies providing for one of the many catchy aspects of The Afternoons’ numerous releases, it has remained surprising to me that the UK air play garnered by The Afternoons is limited at best. However, with their new best-of compilation, Baby, You Know the Deal, things are starting to look up for the patient five members of The Afternoons. Released in Spain a few weeks ago, it is a precursor to their fourth full-length album, Sweet Action, due to be released this fall. In hopes of drawing some well-deserved attention from the critics who brushed them off as just another Brit-pop imitation, in Baby, You Know the Deal they have collected the best tracks from their previous two albums, My Lost City and Rocket Summer, in addition to their latest single, “FM (Bys Ar Dy Ddeial)/Neidia Mewn i’r Dwr”. The agreeable result is one of the catchiest releases of the year, compilation or otherwise. From the bouncy orchestral pop of the self-titled “Baby, You Know the Deal” to the glimmering nod to classic Brit-pop in the spectacular “Let’s Fall Apart”, this is the summation of a band whose underrated nature yearns for overdue national recognition. In addition to their dazzling homage to jangle-pop, The Afternoons also show shades of Brian Wilson, The Kinks, and Matthew Sweet in their engaging delivery; a batch of influences that seems to never go wrong.

Personally, this is my first introduction to The Afternoons. Like many of you, I had never even heard of The Afternoons before last week. Prior to listening to them, I expected just another British band capitalizing on the gritty art-rock explosion. After all, it is becoming rare these days to find a band that does not allow their sound to be molded by domestic commercialism. Another version of the Arctic Monkeys or Bloc Party on our hands? Refreshingly, that was not the case. Surprisingly enough, The Afternoons instead reminded me of one of the most popular acts ever to come from Cardiff: Super Furry Animals. Though they lack the psychedelic features and unique vocal deliveries for a precisely reflective comparison, The Afternoons borrow the same auspiciously favorable aspects of 60s pop. They also occasionally dabble in a bit of Welsh, just like their highly respected native predecessors. Rubbing off infectious guitar riffs over sparkling droplets of keys, The Afternoons relay a very familiar yet satisfyingly memorable sound. One of their best tracks that makes use of this is the irresistible single, “Let’s Fall Apart”. Off of their third and most recent album, Rocket Summer, it is a nearly flawless incorporation of pop hooks, authentic optimism, and summery power-pop. “Oh, he broke your heat, filled you up with his pain,” Griffiths sings powerfully during a sprightly chorus, his voice overpowering the backing guitars and light synths. “Let’s fall apart, take it back to the start again.”

As additionally displayed on “Let’s Fall Apart”, much of The Afternoons’ lyrical content tends to deal with the aftereffect of romantic relationships, tending to the bright side of things. While too bouncy and upbeat in melodic ability to be deemed as “coping music”, songs like the excellent “You’ll Never Know” stride in deterministic self-confidence and willpower. “I didn’t grow a beard to my feet, I didn’t lose the will to eat,” Griffiths sings over the usual, catchy assortment of keys and guitars. “But you’ll never that it didn’t hurt so bad.” As clear as the message is in “getting over” a past lover, Griffiths and company pull it off very endearingly with a form of lovable power-pop that is hard to rival. Managing to blend the 60s and 90s together with an indistinguishable passion, The Afternoons are also a gleeful example of the impact Teenage Fanclub made on contemporary music. Being one of the sole bands responsible for pulling power-pop out of the “outdated” category in the late 80s and early 90s, Teenage Fanclub inspired a mass following of bands to pick up a guitar and write songs that embodied quality alternative music, wisely opting to ignore heavier rock styles more abundant in the early 90s. Though Teenage Fanclub now may be remembered for being vital contributors to the sculpting of the grunge era, British pop bands like The Boo-Radleys, Supergrass, and now The Afternoons all borrow heavily from one of Glasgow’s greatest. Songs like “You’ll Never Know”, “Let’s Fall Apart”, and “Never Tell Anybody Anything” reek of Grand Prix-era Teenage Fanclub; a complementary quality that is certainly nothing but enjoyable.

While the soothing baroque-pop of of “Rollerskaters in the Park” is reminiscent of the most lighthearted of Paul McCartney’s solo material and “Canada Geese” is an epic, orchestrally focused ballad in a similar vein, The Afternoons’ most qualitative demonstration of their talents lie in bustling songs that are reflective of the power-pop outbreak in mid-90s Britain. Baby, You Know the Deal is an extremely enjoyable compilation of a severely underrated act whose recognition will hopefully catch up to them in the coming years. To reach such a goal, this compilation is a step in the right direction. Re-releasing songs in the irresistible nature of “Let’s Fall Apart” and “You’ll Never Know” should hopefully bring their exceptional sound to a broader audience. Even if the structures and melodies remain to be somewhat predictable over time, there are just some bands whose sheer catchiness overshadows any minor faults or stylistic inconsistencies. Just like Teenage Fanclub’s most recent compilation, Four Thousand Seven Hundred and Sixty-Six Seconds, proved to be beneficial in finding them a well-deserved overseas audience, hopefully Baby, You Know the Deal will be as justifiably rewarding for The Afternoons.

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The Afternoons – Let’s Fall Apart

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The Afternoons – Rocket Summer

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The Afternoons – You’ll Never Know

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Official Web Site

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Think back to the 1990s. What comes to mind? For me and many others engaged in music, we all remember the uprising of grunge, alternative, and Brit-pop. Indeed, we know them as the glory years before the formulaic boy bands and plastic pop stars invaded the airwaves. For John McKeown, the frontman for a band whose name gives a nod to the decade, he most likely remembers those ten years as a time of musical progressions, experiences, and regrets. In the mid 90s, McKeown led a band from Glasgow who called themselves Yummy Fur. While they never saw major success outside of Glasgow, their claim to fame came after the band’s demise in 1999. After keyboardist Mark Gibbons committed suicide that same year, two of Yummy Fur’s members, Alex Kapranos and Paul Thomson, went on to form Franz Ferdinand, resulting in a form of success that most young lads from Glasgow can only dream of. It would be expected that McKeown, after the death of a friend and seeing his previous bandmates excel in a different project, would fall under the pressures of failure and regret. Instead, he diligently chose to strike back.

In 2005, sick of their futile attempts on the music scene, McKeown and Michael McGaughrin (ex-drummer for V Twin and McKeown’s “drug buddy”) initially decided to call it quits. According to the two, their motto during this turbulent time was apparently “take a lot of drugs and get really really really drunk and party all night long.” Who knew that their flawed lifestyle would lead to their first form of true success? With an ideology focused on fun and youth, the two began writing songs together for the pure joke of it. With the songs intentionally sounding like a mockery of “mad little 70s New York rock songs with really ridiculous lyrics”, McKeown and McGaughrin realized shortly thereafter that they actually had something going. After writing a few more songs and playing alongside the legendary Damo Suzuki, they joined up with bassist Jamie McMorrow and put their new project, 1990s, into full motion. Almost immediately after their sixth gig, they were signed to Rough Trade. Active for over thirteen years, the success felt relatively new to McKeown, who still realized that this opportunity was not one to be wasted. With the name of a well-known label attracting the crowds, 1990s toured with the likes of The Strokes, Belle & Sebastian, and even McKeown’s old mates, Franz Ferdinand. Showing no love lost, the remaining trio from Yummy Fur apparently remain friends and touring partners.

If you have not noticed by now, in traditional Scottish fashion, the three members of 1990s all have last names that begin with “Mc”. Vocalist and guitarist Jackie McKeown, drummer Michael McGaughrin, and bassist Jamie McMorrow. That is what one would call a fashionable coincidence. The (Mc)1990s released their debut album, Cookies, in May in the UK. Produced by Bernard Butler (Suede, The Tears), the US will see a July 31st release date, preceded by the debut American single, “See You At The Lights“, on June 19th. The single has already reached #102 on the UK charts, primarily attributed to the band’s modernistic approach. While primarily drawing on classic acts like the Rolling Stones and the Stooges with their raw rock ‘n’ roll sound, the guitar production and song structures are more reminiscable of the same art-rock explosion that McKeown’s former bandmates, Franz Ferdinand, helped establish to a broad audience. The opener to Cookies and the band’s first single, “You Made Me Like It”, sounds like a cross between the Rolling Stones, Violent Femmes, and Franz Ferdinand. With muttered vocals that are blatantly comparable to Mick Jagger or Gordon Gano, the excitable chorus is more reminiscent of Franz Ferdinand’s “Do You Want To” to the effect that it will tire those who have heard it before.

Despite the overdrawing comparisons to the Stones or Franz Ferdinand, the innovation of 1990s is found in their rare and admirable approach. They seem content on holding the reputation that they are bringing back what made rock ‘n’ roll the respectable and organic genre that it is. There is no radical production technique, experimental instrumentation, or innovative failure. 1990s is simply a guitarist, a bassist, and a drummer hammering out what they do best: making genuine rock ‘n’ roll. While it is an easy task to compare 1990s to a handful of artists stretching over the previous five decades, one must remember that complete creativity is an aspect that is hard to accomplish in the present age. When a band like 1990s comes around and embraces a previously enshrined genre with quality songs, critics who shout out claims of unoriginality need to sit down, take a deep breath, and enjoy the music of 1990s for what it is. Pure, natural, and honest rock ‘n’ roll are several aspects of the narrow, though enjoyable, 1990s, a band that plays music “like a blonde gets out of a car.”

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1990s – You Made Me Like It

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1990s – See You At The Lights

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1990s – Risque Pictures

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Official Web Site

BUY

Oh, one more thing. Be sure not to mix them up with The 1900s or call them “The 1990s” or “1990’s”. I have heard the members of 1990s are a bit particular.

The post 1990s (the band, not the decade) appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

If his new project did not look so promising, David Skirving would most likely be kicking himself for leaving the acclaimed Camera Obscura when he did. Now a fixture in the contemporary indie-pop scene, Camera Obscura has now become a highly accomplished act, releasing three acclaimed albums that have garnered both critical praise and receptive sales with their amiable association of country and general pop influences. Skirving was an original fixture in the band’s lineup when they formed in 1996, playing the part of guitarist before he left the band in 1999 and was replaced by Kenny McKeeve. Most of us know what has become of Camera Obscure by now, so what about Mr. Skirving? He mainly kept up with his musical ambitions in his native Glasgow, forming the oddly titled California Snow Story almost directly after his disbandment from Camera Obscure. The band’s lineup revolved over the years, with Skirving being the consistent driving force with a friendly group of backing musicians. California Snow Story’s first release, One Good Summer, came in 2002 on the Shelflife label with sales that were considered somewhat lackluster, though with musical results that appeared promising. As a result, Skirving went on a slight hitatus, though he abruptly returned in 2005. With his return to the musical world, his songwriting appeared sharper and more concise, leading to the arrival of vocalist Sandra Belda Martinez, best known as the vocalist for Superété. The duo was later joined by keyboardist Madoka Fukushima and drummer Alan Skirving, finally establishing a lineup with enough credentials to record their long-awaited debut full-length album, Close to the Ocean. It is set to be released on May 24th.

Though the name California Snow Story may sound a bit like an oxymoron, the music is fortunately more soothing on the mind. There are no perplexing styles or experimental techniques on Close to the Ocean. Instead, it is a rather straightforward release that would most likely sound best on a brisk Autumn day with its relaxing melodies, soft instrumentation, and lulling vocals. Ironically, I would have most likely compared California Snow Story to Camera Obscure even if I held no knowledge on Skirving’s past with the band. This is mainly attributed to the vocal techniques utilized throughout most of Close to the Ocean. Both David Skirving and Sandra Belda Martinez relay sets of cozy vocal accompaniments, whether it be singing in the form of a duet or through separate verses. In most circumstances, like in the serenely compelling “My Life is Only a Daydream”, the verses hold separate vocal cuts while the chorus is touched by an invigorating duet, sounding quite beautiful over the delicately crafted acoustics, guitars, and slight whirs of synths. The percussion is barely above an inaudible tap, often exchanging shuffles for the usual excitable fervor; a technique that proves to be most effective with consideration toward California Snow Story’s expertly perfected tone. Close to the Ocean is one of those rare rainy-day albums that somehow manages to integrate both a tranquil setting with memorable melodies in order to avoid any tedious or unbearable sensations.

Even though it moves quite indolently like the majority of Close to the Ocean, “Suddenly Everything Happens” maintains to be the most blatantly energetic on the album. With the slight whisper of an organ underlying the constant rhythmic patterns of an electric guitar, Skirving and Martinez both take turns on the vocal front, alternating between each verse before sliding into an anticipated duet toward the conclusion of the song. It turns out to be an admirable effort, showing what California Snow Story is perfectly capable of. One of the only gripes that I have with Close to the Ocean is the lack of vocal variation. Both Skirving and Martinez fit perfectly into their intended objective of creating soothing pop songs, though a slight measure of uplifted emotion or increased melancholy could create potentially devastating hooks, an aspect that some shallow tracks like “A New Light to Guide You” and “Wishing Well” could benefit from. With its ten songs, the first half of Close to the Ocean should be the perfect soundtrack for a breezy day in October. Even while the level of enjoyment will rely on either weather or mood for most individuals, the debut full-length from California Snow Story is enjoyable for the most part. Perhaps Skirving’s departure from Camera Obscura was not such a bad move after all, as California Snow Story seems to fit his restful ambitious quite well.

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California Snow Story – Suddenly Everything Happens

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California Snow Story – Begin Again

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California Snow Story – My Life is Only a Daydream

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Official Web Site

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I suppose it would be safe to assume that Jenny Reeve is finally on the verge of catching her big break. Although she is the front-woman and lead songwriter for the new Glasgow-based act Strike The Colours, Reeve has been developing her musical abilities for several years now. A studio musician who has endured a high amount of demand throughout her young and blooming career, Reeve has played both live and in the studio with the likes of Arab Strap and Idlewild. Despite being a respected musician with several prominent bands pleading for her contributions, Reeve apparently decided that it was time to strike up a project of her own. In late 2003, while still a member of her original band Eva, Reeve began writing songs for a yet untitled project, later to be called Strike The Colours. By 2004, Reeve had cut most of her ties with her collaborative bands in order to focus solely on her own project. She began an extensive tour after gathering bassist Gareth Russell and drummer Denis Sheridan, receiving feedback from audiences and fellow musicians after the group recorded their first batch of demos, the September Sessions, later that year. Reeve sang the majority of the vocals and was a driving instrumental force, with the handful of demos garnering the attention of several other bands, leading to Strike The Colours playing opening gigs for Arab Strab and Idlewild. After guitarist Davy McAulay joined Strike The Colours in 2005, more opening slots ensued for the band as they opened for Malcolm Middleton, Holly Golighty, and The Posies in a further effort to generate hype for their debut album. After building up steam through a handful of demos and memorable live shows, the band’s first authentic release will be out on June 18th. Titled The Face That Sunk A Thousand Ships, it is Strike The Colours’ debut mini-album, consisting of six very illustrious songs.

While Reeve may come off as one of those clichéd shy, cute, indie girl types when she does not have an instrument in hand, her presence on the stage is undoubtedly absorbing. Spectators claim that she walks on stage with a shy grin, looking like the girl-next-door with that irrepressible charm that draws the attention of nearly everyone in the room. However, as soon as she plays the first set of notes on her violin, her amiable appearance becomes nonexistent. In such a superficial society, it appears that music and art are a few of the only sources that, while in the presence of instrumentation, cause looks to not equate in an overall conclusion, for once. It also helps that Reeve’s musical style is approachable from the get-go, presenting a form of shimmering indie pop in which catchiness radiating brightly over works of strings, guitars, and percussion. Reeve and her bandmates play with such delectation and ease, making their glossy pop hooks noticeably consummate as they glide smoothly over Reeve’s lightly cherubic vocals, usually sung in upper range while managing to both relay the slight emotional twang of Stevie Nicks and the high-pitched innocence of Kori Gardner.

The six songs on their debut mini-album, The Face That Sunk A Thousand Ships, are all contained within an impressive range of flexibility, with songs like the bouncy and electric “Safety In Numbers” standing alongside other tracks like the piano-led “Bare Legs In A Storm” and the bleakly atmospheric “30 Miles An Hour” with ease and attainability. The mini-album’s concluding song, “We Dreamed Of Stars”, is touched with solely a broodingly beautiful violin, a few slight plucks of an acoustic guitar, and Reeve’s luxoriously soothing vocals. While the least complex and invigorated of the six songs on the album, it is the most beautiful and will be the one that will surprisingly leave the deepest memory. On the catchier side, “Safety In Numbers” is a smartly written pop song that shows pure spirit while detailing the questions involved in entering a new phase of romance or life. “And I told you I would be your question mark,” Reeve sings brightly, “and I’d hang around your head when it gets dark.” While “Choose Me” is not as instrumentally singular as “We Dreamed Of Stars” or directly excitable as “Safety In Numbers”, the realization contained in reaching for a dissatisfaction in loneliness provides for quite a touching song, touched by yet another set of impressive instrumentation. “Choose me, I promise I’d choose you,” Reeve states confidently, with the music providing a doubtless echo. With such an impressive debut worth heaps of potential, it is seemingly easy to believe her.

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Strike The Colours – Safety In Numbers

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Strike The Colours – We Dreamed Of Stars

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Strike The Colours – Choose Me

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I’m sure your mother has told you at least once to “respect your elders”. The Zetland Players are certainly respectful, with two of the three members taking cues from their grandfathers, who were both musicians as well. It’s clear that music runs in the families of Michael Wiper and Tobias Silvester. Wiper’s grandfather Phil played in a folk band named The Zetland Players in the 1940s, which is where their name derives from. Silvester’s grandfather George was also an accomplished musician. The two met “over a curious incident involving a smokey room, a guitar with large penis drawn on the back of it and Wiper’s partial blindness”, which is so vaguely stated that I don’t think anyone has any clue what it refers to other than the band members themselves. After that “incident”, they recruited Adrian Zookrow as the final piece to the trio, citing his “melodic charm” and “sterling good looks” as the waivering components. Though they are from London, they now reside in Washington DC after their tour of the United States. One of the most unique aspects of The Zetland Players is the musical instruments involved, which is an acoustic guitar, an electric guitar, and an upright bass. The only form of percussion on their debut EP Making Friends With… is a bit of automated clapping on ‘1 in 7’ and ‘Night At The Lyric’. Surprisingly, the EP turns out to be an excitable collection of a contemporary mixture of folk and pop even without percussion. Their leading single ‘Jack’s Little Zoo’ is led by a few acoustic chords and is aided by a variety of catchy electric guitar additions. The song proves to be quite innocent, almost turning itself into a sarcastic children’s song, well that would be if not for the part about when Jack “went drinking, smacked his lips and salutes his animal pie”. After a few cheerful verses about his love for animals, he eats them? How awful. Actually, it’s quite entertaining. So, kids: be kind to animals, don’t go drinking, and always have an open mind towards vegetarians. The vocals from The Zetland Players remind me occasionally of Franz Ferdinand’s Alex Kapranos when he dwells on his acoustic tunes such as ‘Eleanor, Put Your Boots On’ and ‘Jackie Jackson’, which also pokes fun at children’s songs. ‘Night At The Lyric’ is a good expansion of sound, as the group demonstrates some harmonica which incorporates nicely with the catchy melody. The band is currently searching for a drummer, which should certainly enhance their sound. With sharper production and more percussive elements, the band could perhaps become an English version of The Lucksmiths. With influences stemming from Bob Dylan, Woody Guthrie, Hank Williams, and their respectable grandfathers, The Zetland Players are filled with potential. You can download their entire EP for free here.

The Zetland Players – Jack’s Little Zoo

The Zetland Players – 1 in 7

The Zetland Players – Night At The Lyric

Official Web Site

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A band who is recently making a splash in the blog atmosphere is Glasgow’s own Butcher Boy. In the past few years, we’ve seen strong revivals of classic British punk, psychedelia, and 80s dance, among many others. One influential genre that has remained largely untouched has been one of my personal favorites: jangle pop. While it remains one of the most important genres of post-punk in the 80s, new bands rarely find themselves reaching the quality of early material from The Smiths, The Housemartins, and R.E.M.. Shying away from the traditional revivalism, Butcher Boy takes their chops from the bands they adored while growing up. Often consisting of seven members, most of the members have been well educated in the creation of music, particulary vocalist John Blain Hunt who sounds like some clever mixture of Paul Heaton, Morrissey, and Stuart Staples. They are quite fond of the Smiths relevance as well, comparing their music in similar circumstances as to “closing your eyes and listening to the first Smiths record”. Well then, The Smiths’ first record is one of my favorite of all time. They certainly bought me on that line alone. Of course, their influence is even noticabe in the song titles. ‘Girls Make Me Sick’? Hah. A younger Morrissey would certainly agree. The song fits form as well, led by the frantically executed bass line of Garry Hoggan and the quick guitar strums of Basil Pieroni, the song eventually evolves into a catchy and fairly complex version with the surrounding of various keys and mixed percussion. Perhaps the vocal production seems a bit outdated, though I woudn’t be surprised if this was entirely intentional. Either way, the song works and is in strong form. ‘Keep Your Powder Dry’ is excellent usage of the relationship between the electric and bass guitar. Each one synchronize with each other flawlessly behind the drums of Findlay Mackinnon. The song is abrupt and short-lived with only one chorus, but also intentional, this only leaves listeners in the band’s intended position: begging for more.

Butcher Boy – Girls Make Me Sick

Butcher Boy – Keep Your Powder Dry

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If analogies are to your liking, the popular opinion is that Cornelius is the “Japanese version of Beck”. While it may be true that both artists utilize a countless number of musical genres in their songs, Cornelius often seems more focused on the pop aspect. Even while his hip-hop and punk influences are not nearly as visible, they can be recognized with close awareness to his alternative pop soundscape. Born Keigo Oyamada in Tokyo, Japan, he grew up in the 80s influenced by the typical names of Kiss and Queen. Such artists inspired him to pick up a guitar in his teens, eventually leading to him being a very distinguished guitarist after years of self-teaching. His musical emergence came in the early 90s while he was half of the popular Japanese pop duo, Flipper’s Guitar. Oyamada formed the band while he was still in high school with bandmate Kenji Ozawa. While the band originally consisted of five members, their debut album Three Cheers for Our Side in 1989 saw the other three members leave after the release, with only Oyamada and Ozawa remaining. Though the debut initially saw disappointing sales, it pushed the duo towards something even more innovative. They released Camera Talk the next year, resulting in critical acclaim of the album’s style. With an original mixture of jazz, British punk, psychedelia, and house, they were well on their way to becoming one of the most successful acts in Japan. Despite the varying influences, most critics always referred to the most influential as the “three Bs”, which consisted of Beck, The Beatles and the Beach Boys. Their third album, Doctor Head’s World Tower was released in 1991, showing even more range and a similar focus on psychedelic aspects. Camera Talk still stands as their masterpiece, even preceding a handful of other great releases. The band announced their demise in 1993, with both Oyamada and Ozawa pursuing solo careers.

Though both talented musicians have cult followings in Japan regarding their solo work, Oyamada is, without a doubt, more popular internationally. This is partly in thanks to his signing with Matador, a label who tends to treat foreign artists with more respect than most other labels. Matador also previously signed Pizzicato Five, a band I admire that contains many of the same Shibuya-kei roots that Oyamada does. For a more in-depth look on Pizzicato Five and the general genre of Shibuya-kei, check out my post here for a few additional MP3s. Oyamada’s solo breakthrough came with Fantasma in 1997, an album heralded as a great achievement, much like Beck’s Odelay. Personally, I’ve always found Oyamada to be more engaging than Beck, mainly because it often feels he is borrowing from his own mind rather than the creative output of another artist from the past. Excluding a number of various remix compilations, Sensuous is his fourth album in eleven years. While it is not a dramatic departure from his earlier works of Fantasma and Point, an all new form of ingenuity can be found in a variety of songs. ‘Breezin” may not be a good example of Oyamada’s influential intellect, but it is one of the catchiest songs he has done. In an untypically straightforward fashion, he works his halting vocals over a repeating synth line with a chorus that is reliant on general harmonization. The track is serving as one of the album’s singles for good reason. Even if it abandons his experimental aspect for one track, it hopefully will open up some new listeners to his style. ‘Wataridori’ is more typical of Oyamada’s style, being a seven-minute instrumental that is focused on a mixture of guitar, synth, and ambient whirring, setting the tone for a very atmospherically challenging album. ‘Omstart’ is generally acoustic, with a background of rings and bells helping to create Oyamada’s popular serene effect. The track is one of several on the album that is quite relaxing, with others being the opener ‘Sensuous’ and ‘Music’, which sounds strikingly similar to Glasgow’s underrated The Pastels. These songs in variation with the more frantic tracks, such as ‘Gum’ and ‘Fit Song’, provide for a very interesting listen. Since Oyamada is no longer on Matador, Sensuous can only be imported at the moment, as it was released last November in Japan. Is it worth the $40? If you are a fan of Oyamada and you enjoy these tracks, I would say so.

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Cornelius – Breezin’

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Cornelius – Wataridori

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Cornelius – Omstart

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Scotland’s own Arab Strap certainly had a great run. Last September, the likable duo of Aidan Moffat and Malcolm Middleton announced that they would be going their separate ways. They played their final show at the ABC Glasgow last month. Throughout their folk-influenced career, Arab Strap released six albums over eleven years, with their final album and the appropriately titled The Last Romance being released last February. Notably known for songs concerning selfless topics of sexuality (note their name), loneliness, and passion, Arab Strap incorporated several musical styles that often bordered on slow but steadily moving rhythms. Though they mainly focused on folk styles such as acoustic fingerpicking and notable harmonics, the duo occasionally used keyboards and even synth to generate a slight tone of dance and electronic pop. While Aidan Moffat usually handled most of the vocals, Middleton was known as the man behind the music. With Middleton being a multi-instrumentalist, his musical chemistry with local drinking buddy and good friend Moffat was quite memorable. As shown by the three Arab Strap tracks below, the atmosphere in the songs tend to be similar to a barren wasteland, expressing melancholy and emptiness all while remaining vaguely beautiful. Now that the Scottish duo has split, both are pursuing their solo careers with full initiative. Aidan Moffat goes under the solo alias of Lucky Pierre while Middleton has kept his natively recognizable name. They both released their solo debuts years before Arab Strap split, with Lucky Pierre’s Hypnogogia releasing in 2002 and Malcolm Middleton’s 5:14 Fluoxytine Seagull Alcohol John Nicotine releasing in 2003. Both tend to remain in the mold of Arab Strap, constructing typically downbeat songs that are played with sharp emotion and admiration. Moffat’s Lucky Pierre released three more albums following the promising debut, with another album rumored to be on the way this year. Hypnogogia was actually recorded while Moffat had quite a severe case of insomnia and he considered the album a vital component that helped him with his struggles. On the other side of things, Middleton’s solo career has arguably been more prominently productive and reputable. Various songs on Middleton’s two albums could easily pass for Arab Strap to the average listener, though Middleton’s sound on his solo albums often tend to involve even more instruments than he would risk in Arab Strap.

Middleton is releasing his third album, A Brighter Beat, on January 22nd through Full Time Hobby. This is Middleton’s first solo label departure from Chemikal Underground, who signed Arab Strap back in their originating year of 1995. I was never the biggest Arab Strap fan, but I’m finding A Brighter Beat to be considerably enjoyable. I’m finding that Middleton can actually compose great songs that are in an upbeat nature, abandoning his usual dark themes for several tracks. The delectable ‘Fuck It, I Love You’ works around twinkling keys, a rapid electric guitar, and backing female vocals during the chorus to construct one of the catchiest songs that Middleton has ever written. While the lyrics are certainly downtrodden, the general melody is upbeat and knowingly pleasant. The song also contains an effective bridge at the half-way point, mixing synth and guitar for a rare but successfully crucial moment of the song. ‘Fight Like The Night’ is one of the most animated tracks on the album, again using an additional female cast member to add a very nice touch on a catchy chorus, much like in ‘Fuck It, I Love You’. ‘Four Cigarettes’ is a very nice example of Middleton’s sympathetic musical touch, being the primary sound he capitalized on in Arab Strap. That mysterious female voice yet again makes an appearance in the string-led chorus, which is a trend that may become repetitious for some. The piano is the main instrument used here, with Middleton’s seemingly frail vocals detailing the struggles of a broken relationship and a broken heart. Nothing new on the subject matter there, as Middleton bleakly describes his songs as “love songs for depressed people who find it hard leaving the house sometimes and worry too much about dying and the consequences of their daily actions and thoughts to be able to enjoy life fully”. Cheer up Malcolm. Even if some horrible jokes such as “Malcolm in the Middleton” come your way and you think your fans are limited to depressed people with social fears, your third album is arguably the best thing you have ever written.

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Malcolm Middleton – Fuck It, I Love You

Malcolm Middleton – Fight Like The Night

Malcolm Middleton – Four Cigarettes

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Arab Strap – Dream Sequence

Arab Strap – Love Detective

Arab Strap – Where We’ve Left Our Love

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