Following up a feature on Damon Albarn implies a drop in quality and prestige, especially considering how few artists are able to stay relevant for over twenty years. Even if they cannot be deemed “obscure”, many figures are worth exposing regardless of their original prestige. The work they are producing is just that good. Like any new Albarn project, Paul Weller is worth listening to whenever he releases something. He is easily one of the most recognizable figures in the UK for founding The Jam, The Style Council, and the illustrious solo career that followed. Albarn and Weller are actually one of few people in this world that can compare their accomplishments, as one could easily argue that Blur’s experiences in the ’90s were very similar to those of The Jam in the late ’70s. Success nearly limited to the UK, a series of triumphs without a flop, and a distinctively British demeanor that brought them praise (even if it was somewhat isolated). It took several years before the rest of the world caught on to both The Jam and Blur, with bands like the Sex Pistols and Oasis previously overshadowing them everywhere else. The later realization was that both groups were putting forth stylistic innovation, something that their contemporaries had lacked. The Jam was later classified as the forefathers of the “Mod revival”, while Blur’s vein of Brit-pop is now widely considered to be the genre’s staple. Both of these bands impacted the music scene at different decades, but their paths ended up being very similar due to the rare talent and presence of both lead songwriters.

Although the two have never worked together, the mutual respect between Albarn and Weller seems apparent. Weller even collaborated with Albarn’s ex-Blur bandmate, Graham Coxon, on “This Old Town”, a nice single that peaked at #39 in the UK charts. Check it out here. Weller also commented on Albarn’s Mali Music by calling it “brilliant… a perfect way in to the music of Mali.” Both are hardly strangers to ambitious solo attempts in that vein, whether serving as an introduction to Mali music or a change of stylistic preference per each album. They are both renowned for mixing it up with each project, of which there are many. Albarn is already having a great year with the excellent Plastic Beach, and since they always seem to be step-for-step it is not surprising to see Weller with another solo album. His tenth studio album, Wake Up the Nation, will be released this April. Perhaps the most notable aspect upon release is that it features Bruce Foxton, former bassist of The Jam. Just like Albarn, Weller is having his own mini-reunion of sorts with his first successful band, even if this is just a one-time thing. Weller and Foxton have always had a good enough relationship, so when both lost loved ones recently they took solace in collaboration among friends. One could say it was a coping mechanism, but the result of Wake Up the Nation shows much more than an album with forced intent.

Wake Up the Nation comes with lofty expectations since it comes fresh off the massively successful release of 22 Dreams, which was Weller’s third solo album that peaked at #1. Featuring a massive 21 tracks, its consistencies were startling as it was unarguably one of the finest of Weller’s outstanding career. Even upon seeing this success though, Weller is just like Albarn in that he cannot tread in one stylistic territory too long regardless of its acclaim. While Wake Up the Nation is still distinctively a Weller solo album, it raises his intensity up a notch with a brisker and more punk-oriented sound that relies on short song lengths, spontaneous hooks, and rhythmic intensity. Unsurprisingly, the album’s collaborators already accustomed to such a sound. Foxton’s brisk bass work with The Jam is already long-renowned, and cameos from Kevin Shields (My Bloody Valentine), Bev Bevan (ELO, The Move), and drummer Clem Cattini help make this album full of imaginative and unique ideas. At the end of it all though, Weller emerges as the star presence. His successful forays into various genres foreshadow such an accomplishment before the release of each new album.

The string-laden chorus of “No Tears Left to Cry” steps back a bit from the hurried approach of its two predecessors, finding a bit of sentimental Weller shine without ruining the album’s flow. “Fast Car, Slow Traffic” has the same sort of spontaneous flow, with a sloppy dose of keys occasionally providing a nice flourish. This is quite an experimental effort considering its length, and Weller clearly has a new fascination with sampling and field sound effects that he employs well. He manages to play with this and not alter his style dramatically, once again resulting in a fresh-faced version of a nostalgic sound we already knew and loved. While those yearning for the ambitious and somewhat serene approach of 22 Dreams may be disappointed with the brisker, straightforward, and more improvisational-sounding result of Wake Up the Nation, Weller’s unique songwriting charm after several listens is precisely the same as 22 Dreams. Wake Up the Nation meshes together with songs that end before even starting, most of these entailing a very high replay value as a result. Weller flaunts some great songwriting as usual, except here it may take several listens to get it stuck in your head since the brilliant ideas feel no need to repeat themselves. With some tracks like “Grasp and Still Connect” showing strings in the chorus and others like “Wake Up the Nation” going the conventional guitar-punk route, the differences between songs are subtle upon first listen but grow rapidly since the bulk of the album features standouts.

Like all Weller albums, Wake Up the Nation should be received well. It brings us back to Weller’s phases with The Jam and early solo material, which saw shorter songs and more intensity as opposed to ambitious stylistic trips that were often extended (almost always for enjoyable purposes). While this is certainly an ambitious effort in its own right by constricting songs to under three minutes, utilizing a variety of samples, and employing improvisational spurts of keys and strings, Wake Up the Nation retains the hooks and accessible appeal necessary to retain Weller’s role as one of the most beloved musicians in the UK. It is guaranteed to chart in the UK like all other Weller albums, but I also would not be surprised if it saw some time on the US charts as well. This has some heavy art-rock, funk, and jazz influences, which I feel American audiences could be very receptive toward when incorporated with Weller’s trademark sound. Just check out the sprawling “Aim High” for such achievements in fusion. When listening to efforts like this, I just wish there were more artists like Damon Albarn and Paul Weller around. They appear stylistically fearless and ambivalent to the future, both characteristics that treat listeners to their utmost and most sincere potential.

RIYL: The Jam, The Style Council, Ocean Colour Scene, The Charlatans, Shed Seven, Ray Davies, Ian Brown, The Stone Roses, The La’s, The High Numbers, Richard Ashcroft, Hurricane #1

——————————————————————————————

Paul Weller – Aim High

——————————————————————————————

Paul Weller – Moonshine

——————————————————————————————

Paul Weller – No Tears Left to Cry

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

The post Paul Weller Wakes Up the Nation appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

I was a bit weary when Bishop Allen began their EP project, where they released an EP once every month for the entirety of 2006. Why rush artistic integrity and spoil the chances of a full-length masterpiece in the process? Many listeners probably had a similar first impression, but when hearing the type of content that the Brooklyn-based duo produced throughout these 12 EPs it began to make sense. They almost resembled lo-fi bedroom recordings with their amiable DIY dedication, their infectious indie-pop being led by an array of crackling guitars and pianos. Although the sporadic stream of releases prevented much press since most music publications would not dare review the same band every month, the concept alone generated plenty of recognition that brought acclaim for both the band’s work ethic and stylistic focus. To keep listeners coming back every month for a release that hardly varied in style was quite an achievement, and in doing this it represented the duo’s cunning songwriting ability. After the finale of this EP project, it was hardly a surprise when Bishop Allen landed a respectable label deal with Dead Oceans (which involves people from Secretly Canadian and Jagjaguwar) because of this new acclaim.

A Brief Smile are another group out of NYC attempting a similar concept, except this time without the major indie backing and promotion that Bishop Allen had. A Brief Smile has already released three EPs this year, one each on the first Friday of May, June, and July. Whereas Bishop Allen had previously established substantial recognition with a full-length debut in Charm School before undertaking this adventurous approach, A Brief Smile are generally unknowns still looking for their breakthrough. An short 7-track debut, R.E.S.T., was released in 2005 before a full-length album, Now We All Have Horns, appeared in 2007, but there remains a vague enigma surrounding this group. Each of their three EPs this year represent varying stylistic approaches, leaving a sense of unpredictability that can only be positive for a group as young as A Brief Smile, who all met while attending NYU. The estimations surrounding their next album cannot be conventionally hypothesized, as bassist John Carnes explains. “These albums are all different from one another sonically but I think if you really listen to the lyrics, you’ll find commonalities – a kind of narrative that goes from creation to destruction to creation.” This kind of stylistic multifariousness that A Brief Smile have shown despite a limited number of release is what makes them so promising for the future.

A Brief Smile’s absence from touring since August can likely be contributed to whispers of a full-length release. The five-piece is now at work on “a dance record” that uses “dark chugging synths” to pave the way for a return to the band’s pop roots, set to be released sometime in 2010. This return to their pop roots is in reference to their earlier material, which is in slight contrast to the tinge of indie-psychedelia displayed on Sunshine State, the most recent of their three EPs this year. “Animal Magnetism” shows off this psyche side quite well in addition to the five-piece’s versatility. “Do you believe in the hope of a magnetic soul?” DL Tashjian sings over impulsive stuttering of keys, assailing guitar riffs, and bursts of tuned-up bass. Tashjian’s vocals are crisp and delightful, adding melodic variations of vibrato similar to that of Jim James, though comparisons to the powerful quiver of Brandon Summers (The Helio Sequence) is more apt due to the shared uses of soaring melodies within a sparkling blend of indie-rock and electronic-rock. A track like this can be accredited to indie-rock with its conventional structure and length, but at times the soaring guitars make it feel like more of a post-rock effort. When all the instruments condense in the last minute over the hectic pattering of percussion and Tashjian’s echoed moans, it feels as if a ten-minute epic had just concluded. I mean this in the best way possible too; it is a song that makes time move slower due to its psychedelic leanings, while hardly abiding by the stereotype that enjoyment is best identified by time passing quickly.

“Bigger Lies” continues to tout its psychedelic influences like “Animal Magnetism” did, promoting its 4:20 length quite nicely. This is an extremely developmental effort, with a bass-keyboard fusion providing a leading melody that is no more than four notes. This unfolds as expected though, and judging how effective A Brief Smile are in exposing . You can just feel the anthemic section of “Bigger Lies” unfolding as the track progresses, the rhythm section hinting at possible bursts of melodic variation. Tashjian’s vocals continue to solidify any lack of variation that may occur during the track’s early goings, providing plenty of dramatic flair before interesting harmonic combinations and rhythmic appliances are utilized to establish “Bigger Lies” as one of the most convincing efforts of A Brief Smile’s career thus far. It should be the first of many monumental successes for this group . I honestly believe that this tracks will go overlooked simply because songs on 3-song EPs from unknowns generally tend to be disregarded. If these were perhaps put towards their eventual full-length then more exposure would have been imminent, but looking at these three EPs it was clear that A Brief Smile did this for their growing fanbase and not for commercialized potential. With A Brief Smile now hard at work in the studio, we have a gem like Sunshine State to tide us over until their dark, synth-savvy follow-up is released in 2010. Download a few of their EPs for free here or there until then; this level of quality is rarely distributed for free so take advantage of it.

RIYL: The Helio Sequence, Dirty on Purpose, The Happy Hollows, My Morning Jacket, Snowden, Annuals, The Main Drag

——————————————————————————————

A Brief Smile – Bigger Lies

——————————————————————————————

A Brief Smile – Animal Magnetism

——————————————————————————————

A Brief Smile – Honeycomb Shrinking

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

The post A Brief Smile for a Sunshine State appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

Stereotypes involving the carefree indulgences of a Californian summer have been circulating since surf-rock originated in the ’60s. Its inception was largely brought on by the development and popularization of the spring reverb, which at the time was said to mimic the sound of waves along one of these sunny beaches. Mickey Deora described surf music nicely by calling it “a syndrome — a cluster of symptoms, no single one of which is necessary or sufficient for the diagnosis.” The main symptoms include a limited instrumental arsenal, prominent use of either reverb or the guitar’s vibrato, and a short song length that appealed to the abundantly used metaphor of catching a wave. Similar to that accomplishment, the conventional surf-rock tracks were short, infectious, and brimming with components like reverb or picked staccatos. This action-audio analogy may sound pretentious by today’s independent standards, but back then it was simply incorporating a popular form of youthful expression into another popular form of youthful expression. Music and surfing were unveiled by these groups to have more in common than one would think.

Before even listening to them, it is readily apparent that Surfer Blood are a bit enamored with the style and period of surf music. Their name alone possesses an obvious reference, while expositions of personality on their MySpace site flash glimpses of ocean-themed tracks, references to fun things like weed and Condoleeza Rice, and a bunch of promo photos that are either in front of the ocean or expressing serene artistic emission. This might sound normal enough if you are from West Palm Beach like Surfer Blood, but many fans of indie-rock may find themselves weary of such beach-bound associations. The differences between contemporary indie-rock and surf-rock are prominent for the most part, and to immediately align Surfer Blood with The Beach Boys or Dick Dale would be a premature impulse that would unfortunately result in missing out on a great band for those not attracted whatsoever to these past groups. Surfer Blood do not abide by Deora’s aforementioned symptoms of surf-rock on a strict basis, but by possessing a similar type of musical ideology to their surf-rock predecessors Surfer Rock have crafted an ingenious debut that reaps from an old-fashioned sort of intensity that only those powerful two-minute surf-rock epics from the ’60s brought to the table.

Although they serve exemplary of an artist influenced by an ideology instead of a precise audible style, Surfer Blood’s own unique style is something that should delight fans of modern indie-rock. The charming upbeat pop of The Shins is certainly present, as are groups like The Explorers Club that cling on to ’60s pop and surf-rock through overlapping vocal harmonies, picked tremolos, and lushly serene orchestration. Surfer Blood are a bit more modernistic than a group like The Explorers Club though, evidenced strongly by the variation in guitar tones and levels of distortion in addition to the lead vocals of John Paul Pitts. Amiable and accessible, Pitts always maintains a gleeful and whimsical croon that simultaneously recalls the sparkle-and-spit of James Mercer and versatility of Brian Wilson by aligning his vocal melodies with corresponding guitars. Like in surf-rock and power-pop alike, guitars are the driving force throughout Surfer Blood’s debut album, Astrocoast. These are precisely the two influences at work most consistently too; surf-rock is abundant through its production techniques while the hooks and song structures themselves are more reflective of power-pop.

Apart from “Slow Jabroni” and “Anchorage”, Astrocoast consists of tracks following below the four-minute mark but still achieving incredible growth and innovation during that time, beckoning a similar feeling to that of instrumental surf-rock when it emerged in the early ’60s. It helps that accessible efforts like “Floating Vibes” takes any related stereotypes by the throat to turn it into a gem with precise revision, even if the track’s simplicity and imminent radio time means it is not as durably enjoyable as the rest of this fantastic album. These aforementioned surf-rock instrumentals are even recalled on Astrocoast to a slight degree, which finds its own reworking on “Neighbor Riffs”. Perhaps it resembles post-punk or art-rock due to its selected melodic and tonal choices, but the structure is inherently that of how surf-rock instrumentals were. An initial bass line kicks off the effort and does not subside for the entire duration, instead serving as the source of opportunity for a multitude of dexterous guitar progressions that benefit from aspects like tremolo, reverb, and staccato that undoubtedly resemble conceptual surf-rock. This is a quite a departure from most of the efforts on Astrocoast, but it sits excellently in the middle of Astrocoast as the bridge between indie-pop-minded sensibilities and voraciously raw surf-rock.

“Twin Peaks” is also nicely demonstrative of this medium, seeing a verse that alternates between aptly implemented chirps of guitar and bursts of distortion before going into an exotic infusion of woodwinds and guitars backed by festival-like ambiance. The fact that Surfer Blood are able to involve both of these conceptual ideas within mere seconds of one another is very impressive and it is easily one of Astrocoast‘s biggest strengths. “Fast Jabroni” recalls the fuzzy dance-punk of the late ’80s with its backing synths and excellent bridge, which uses cleverly engineered snippets of guitar arpeggios and strings to piece together a joyous chorus that exposes Pitts’ vocals in the best light possible. The guitar solo toward the end of the track brings us back to the days of quality ’90s power-pop, before the time Weezer transformed from indie-rock heroes to monetarily desperate cash cows taking advantage of their own status to release pathetic music and manipulate dedicated fans in the process. The prominent synths along with Pitts’ chirpy vocals would have allowed this to site well on Donnie Darko‘s soundtrack, where influences like Echo & the Bunnymen and The Church showcased the precursor to an effort like this in the background of rebellious and misdirected youth. There is a sort of concurrent wisdom and youthfulness found in Surfer Blood’s work and it serves as a rare factor that will undoubtedly separate them from the masses.

Other highlights on Astrocoast include “Harmonix”, easily the best psychedelic-geared effort on the album with its droning guitars and reverbed harmonics (as one would assume by the name), and “Take It Easy”, which brilliantly infuses fiddles and plucked staccatos to introduce an ingeniously calming chorus that summarizes this group’s feel-good vibes in more ways than one. There are so many sheer successes on Astrocoast that it is hard not to chalk it down as one of 2009’s best debuts. Their fusion of surf-rock and indie-rock has been attempted recently by groups like The Drums and Holiday Shores with some degree of success, but Surfer Blood appear to be doing it the best so far.

RIYL: The Drums, The Explorers Club, Holiday Shores, Girls, Fool’s Gold, Little Joy, Weezer, The School

——————————————————————————————

Surfer Blood – Take It Easy

——————————————————————————————

Surfer Blood – Harmonix

——————————————————————————————

Surfer Blood – Fast Jabroni

——————————————————————————————

Kanine Records

MySpace

BUY

The post Surfer Blood on the Astrocoast appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

In an age where audible masculinity is often associated with loud guitars and aggressive screaming, you are really putting yourself out in the open (and taking a few commercial risks) by shaping your vinyl records in the shape of a heart. Sociological standards have changed just as much, if not more, than music in the past seven decades, and to associate hearts with music nowadays seems to either involve Disney’s latest abstaining sensations or overly adorable indie-pop. Thus, to expect something modern-sounding out of Drew Cohen, better known Mayer Hawthorne, might be premature. After all, this is the same guy who asked his label, Stones Throw, if they could press his debut single like Bobby Caldwell did in the early ’80s, when his vinyl was pressed into the shape of a heart. The reason? Simply because the songs dealt with love. Taking a cue from a blue-eyed soul songwriter like Caldwell seems apt for Cohen, even if his his primary influences are actually scattered throughout the ’50s and ’60s. What is amicable among these soul songwriters, though, regardless of whether they originated in the ’50s or ’80s is the prevalence of ardency, even if it takes away a lot of the masculinity that rock ‘n’ roll instills. But for those music fans that are truly fans, this should be irrelevant. In the case of Cohen, the lack of self-concern is a breath of fresh air.

Detroit’s prominence nowadays mainly arises from high crime rates, but anyone without knowledge of the city’s illustrious musical history has a lot of great acts waiting for them (most of which they probably know). In that sense, it is one of the richest cities in the nation. The city has seen plenty of great rock acts – from Iggy & the Stooges to The White Stripes – emerge over the past couple decades, but perhaps Detroit’s most embodied sense of musical history was its role during the explosion of R&B and soul in the ’50s. Motown Records, important for both its role in racial desegregation and massive corporate success, is home to Detroit, as were artists like Smokey Robinson and The Temptations. The role of Detroit in building a foundation for future soul artists was integral. As a result, you can imagine the influence it had on the Detroit kids that were growing up in the ’50s and ’60s. Being surrounded by such a stylistically invigorating phase must have been invigorating and utterly memorable. For the artistically inclined growing up in Detroit, seeing the simultaneous abundance of rock ‘n’ roll, R&B, and soul from the early ’50s toward the late ’70s must have left a unique impression, one that perhaps made their future endeavors considerably more eclectic and nostalgic than their peers.

Growing up just outside of Detroit in Ann Arbor, Cohen’s childhood was surrounded by music. And although he was born too late for Detroit’s legendary era of rock and soul (he grew up in the ’80s), his father was not. A full-time owner of an auto-parts store and part-time musician, Cohen’s father introduced Motown to him at a young age. They would listen to Motown together on his way to work, with the younger Cohen asking his father dozens of questions for each song that came on the radio. The father would gladly respond with all the answers, igniting his son’s passion for music in the process. The ’80s was not an era when Motown was being played continuously on the radio, but we can all thank Mr. Cohen for being a bit behind the times and exposing his son to music that would eventually separate him from his peers in his musical career. It is ironic how something deemed as “outdated” can lead to freshly concocted ideas years afterward, perhaps showing that influences are never really outdated at all. Cohen’s father still unsurprisingly plays in a band back in Detroit, while he has been turning heads with his Mayer Hawthorne project. Originally started for pure fun, playing soul favorites for family and friends evolved into something more for Cohen. Considering Cohen had spent most of his time prior working as a DJ for underground hip-hop group Now On, some could say that his foray into soul music was like discovering a latent talent for the first time.

A fan of everything from hip-hop to grunge, Cohen’s interpretation of neo-soul on his debut A Strange Arrangement borrows both modernistic and retro components of pop and Motown to establish a release that separates itself from contemporaries like Raphael Saadiq and Lee Fields. The self-titled track is one of the album’s most stunning, taking the signature layers of Motown orchestration to produce a smooth and heavily seductive mixture of brass, piano, and guitars incorporated into a stunning rhythm section. The rhythm sounds casual and slowly paced, but the way it leads and develops the track’s peaks under Cohen’s absolutely stunning vocals is unforgettable. The main hook, signaled by the abrupt descending of bass notes, recalls The Stylistics and other Philly soul groups that treated listeners with smooth subtleties and lavish orchestration. “But I can’t stand by while you break my heart in two,” he laments during the hook, solidifying the timeless and old-fashioned gripes of unrequited love in ways so sincere that today’s youth is hardly familiar with it. This track is extremely reminiscent of the past, but many others on the album do assume a more contemporary standing.

“Just Ain’t Gonna Work Out” was the first song completed for the album and the one that prompted Stones Throw to commission Cohen for a full album. This one applies more swiftness and gradual guitar work, with the falsetto and backing vocals being more up-to-date with modern blue-eyed soul artists like Jamie Lidell. Meanwhile, “Maybe So, Maybe No” utilizes some crisp brass incorporated with funk (à la Matthew Herbert) to showcase some very intelligent songwriting. “Green Eyed Love” is quite fascinating for its hazy keyboard lead and updated production, sounding more along the lines of a stripped-down Gnarls Barkley than a ’60s soul artist. It always works though regardless of contemporary standing, and that in itself justifiably shows why A Strange Arrangement is one of the most enjoyably accessible debuts of the year.

——————————————————————————————

Mayer Hawthorne – A Strange Arrangement

——————————————————————————————

Mayer Hawthorne – Just Ain’t Gonna Work Out

——————————————————————————————

Mayer Hawthorne – Green Eyed Love

——————————————————————————————

Stones Throw Records

MySpace

BUY

The post A Strange Arrangement With Mayer Hawthorne appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

Even if it brings necessary experience and helpful recognition, having a lengthy career also ignites some associations that can be highly detrimental to an artist’s frame of mind. Few would prefer anonymity to prominence, but even without the paparazzi there are some consequences to musical fame that prompt some to remain low-key. Though once one accomplishes an objective triumph, it is realized that it is more difficult to run from fame than accomplish it. Grant-Lee Phillips has always been an artist on the verge of both territories. His impressive array of work has stretched over 20 years, with a new project encompassing the three decades of his career. With each one, he has found success that is both unique and durable, at least in a relative sense. The borderline between songwriting genius and instantaneous fame is too small to tread, but Phillips has somehow sat here comfortably throughout his entire career. He is accustomed to critical acclaim and large audiences, but knowing that it is not the type of street-stopping fame that often disrupts artistic legends is perhaps one of the secrets to Phillips’ enduring success. Without the pressures of fame attempting to derail an authentic style or ideology, Phillips has the option of limiting his sources of constructive external knowledge to one of the most reliable and consistent: his own fan base.

If you were one of the few that heard Shiva Burlesque’s 1987 self-titled debut upon its initial release, there is a good chance that you have followed Phillips’ career up to now. That is hard to say for a lot of artists too, as deteriorating with age has occurred so abundantly that we are led to assume it is normative among artists of all kinds. Phillips is the rare breed of songwriter; his ideological talents (songwriting and stylistic intentions) are as consistent as his boastfully powerful voice and stellar sense of production. For an artist to retain any of these throughout a 25-year period is impressive, but for Phillips to maintain all of them while undergoing the transitioning of different eras and stylistic norms serves as indication of his gifted musical intellect. With that in mind, it is hard to believe his first artistic priorities were in film. Before he formed Shiva Burlesque with Jeff Clark, he was a film student attempting to sort out his life in LA. But upon re-acquainting with Clark – a fellow Stockton, California native – Phillips began to view music as his calling again, with he and Clark finding a mutual adoration of local L.A. underground college-rock groups like Rain Parade, Dream Syndicate, and other members of the “Paisley Underground” to be their biggest inspirations.

The “Paisley Underground”, a broad term used to describe a collection of alt-rock groups in ’80s Los Angeles, showed its influence on Phillips early. This term encompassed artists that incorporated psychedelic production into folk-rock and/or power-pop, eventually forming a tight-knit community in the L.A. area due to its aligning sound. The Bangles arguably had the most mainstream success out of this niche. A guitarist since high school, the “Paisley Underground” wave hit Phillips hard and attributed to the sound of Shiva Burlesque’s debut and its 1990 follow-up, Mercury Blues. Despite glowing reviews and a devoted California audience, Shiva Burlesque parted ways shortly after that to pave the way for Phillips’ next project. Great songwriting and performances could simply not hide the fact that their sound was somewhat outdated (at least in regard to L.A.’s music scene in the late ’80s). Along with the drummer and bassist of Shiva Burlesque, Phillips formed Grant Lee Buffalo to begin the ’90s. This project saw four fantastic albums be released from 1993’s Fuzzy to 1998’s Jubilee, all of which drew praise for a matured sound that was more contemporary in its guitar-based interpretation of alternative and folk-rock. Think of them in the vein of other ’90s landmarks like Pearl Jam or Cracker, both of which they opened for at some point, but with more folk and rootsy rock ‘n’ roll.

Grant Lee Buffalo disbanded in 1999 due to growing frustrations over lack of recognition. They certainly had a reason to gripe; practically all publications lauded their releases and other groups openly shared their adoration of Grant Lee Buffalo, but they could never attain even a glisten of commercial success. Frustrated but unfazed, Phillips began his solo work at the beginning of the millennium and has not looked back. Similarly to his preceding efforts, his four solo albums thus far has seen a combined fusion of glowing press and mediocre sales. As mature as Phillips is though, he must understand that the bulk of society is neither educated nor patient enough to recognize quality art. His hooks are evolutionary and often require attentive listening, and his attire does not contain glitter or giant sunglasses. Therefore, expecting fame is unrealistic, but to handle an undeserved lack of recognition the graceful way Phillips has is one of the many reasons why he is still going strong. Very strong actually. His fifth solo album, Little Moon, is one of the best releases of his career, which is saying a lot since he has never released a lackluster one out of the dozen or so. It is still distinctively Grant-Lee Phillips at play, but with a versatility that is more abundant among artists like Ryan Adams (as a track like “Nightbirds” can explain) or Beck.

Rolling Stone hailed Shiva Burlesque’s debut with gushing praise over 20 years ago, which was a decade or so before they called Phillips one of the greatest active male vocalists. It simply attests to his durability and how those able to recognize quality are aware of Phillips’ presence. Like Paul Weller, Phillips’ aggressiveness and fury within his work has subsided a bit with age. His songwriting power never lacks though. A track like “Little Moon” would sound uncharacteristic several years ago with its lush keys and plucked acoustics, but a charming piano-pop ballad like this one shows that it is Phillips’ by the songwriting alone. “It all starts with a seed so small for a song, little flower,” he sings, alternating his voice to a ghostly high-pitch before a series of dramatic violins emerge as the bridge. It seems to describe the evolution of personalities among individuals, with character study being a favorite theme among Phillips’ work (particularly in the vein of artistic struggles, like creating an album or song). In his case, he has expanded to styles that complement his songwriting beautifully. He returns to alt-rock theatrics on “Strangest Thing”, which bristles with energy in its swirling keys and concise guitar licks. This is also one of the most radio-friendly tracks of his career, and if anything serves as a potential commercial break-out for Phillips this would be it. This album should do that on its own though. This is such a fantastic work that I hope it exposes Phillips for what he is: one of the best songwriters of the past three decades. Little Moon is simply another testament to that.

——————————————————————————————

Grant-Lee Phillips – Strangest Thing

——————————————————————————————

Grant-Lee Phillips – Little Moon

——————————————————————————————

Grant-Lee Phillips – Nightbirds

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

The post Grant-Lee Phillips Plays to a Little Moon appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

Most of the time, this site features artists that are deemed “obscure” despite some recent buzz. An artist previously covered by a major publication is rarely featured, mainly because I would feel irrelevant in writing about something already exposed and beaten to death. Nonetheless, the artists that are featured usually have recent buzz or praise that led me to them in the first place. Submissions are a major part of discovering a feature, but occasionally I stumble upon a band on my own that is in dire need of recognition. Even if I tend to appear in the first wave of press, I am rarely the first or second publication to cover a specific band. But when it happens and I become enamored with an artist that possesses little current fanfare or press, I find the coverage to be even more personally rewarding. For one thing, I know increased exposure is practically imminent for the given artist, and being in that “first wave” of press allows me to hypothesize the artist’s eventual impact without any unintentional bias supplied by other sources of information. Sure, I found The Yes Pleases because their album was submitted to me, but when I started listening to their material I expected a boatload of info and praise online just due to the quality of the submitted album alone. Surprisingly, I was wrong. This group’s period of big recognition is imminently ahead of them.

To The Yes Pleases’ credit, getting recognition in Seattle is like trying to stand out in a the crowd of any major city. There is so much to see and listen to that it is not rare for a local act to go overlooked, regardless of their quality or potential. Their appearance is practically a vague enigma at this point, amassing less than 5000 views on MySpace and supplying a few non-descriptive sentences for their bio. Something tells me they should update it soon though; their amount of plays should be increasing very soon. Clearly a young DIY group, the four-piece from Seattle strikes any listener as the antithesis of a pretentiously consumed indie-rock band. They list their influences in conventional form, listing everyone from The Beatles to John Coltrane as an influence; like most level-headed groups in or recently out of college, they recognize influences as the sounds that shaped them, not necessarily which groups they sound most like. If that was the case, late ’80s and early ’90s alternative-rock would fit them nicely. Think Sebadoh, Dinosaur Jr., and Guided by Voices as the basis for their guitar-based sound. Add in a few contemporary electronics, like gurgling synths and polished production, and you have the general sound of The Yes Pleases’ debut album.

From Whence It Came is The Yes Pleases’ debut, but the maturity expressed on the album would suggest they have been working together longer than that. Although their sound is often rooted in a consistent re-interpretation of early ’90s alternative and grunge, their reluctance to stray within one context or era is commendable for a band as young as they are. In fact, the album’s opener hardly abides by any past stereotypes. Similar to the way My Morning Jacket’s recent Evil Urges saw fresh experimentation go hand-in-hand with expected sounds of the past, From Whence It Came is a predominately alternative album that begins with a track more reminiscent of electronic-pop and dance. Vocalist Josh Bate usually sounds most influenced by ’60s pop and ’90s alternative with a retrospective whimper that alternates in tone, but the opening “Designer” finds him more synchronized with ’70s disco than anything else. A few cheap-sounding synths illustrate a repetitive guitar melody nicely, along with a chant-along chorus that almost sounds cheesy enough to serve as an interlude for Project Runway. I am not particularly fond of this effort, but I commend the group for attempting an opener that truly defies what the rest of the album brings. It makes things a lot more unpredictable throughout, which can be beneficial for a group of The Yes Pleases’ young nature.

To get a sense of where The Yes Pleases’ are truly coming from, the second effort on the album shows that well. “70%” cranks up a trashy guitar progression that are eventually complemented by a subtle whiff of high-pitched keys. Unlike “Designer” though, these are too minimal to take hold of the track and alternate its genre. Bate’s vocals show their true power here, recalling both Frank Black and Robert Pollard in his alternation between gruff choruses and high-pitched emotive choruses. The intensity and energy is never lacking, and “70%” is one of the best efforts on the debut with a remarkable chorus that evolves very intelligently from a linear melodic progression. The album’s self-titled track brings us back to their ’60s pop influences, especially when it introduces a psychedelic chorus that brings parts Sublime and parts Zombies to the forefront; the interweaving of various vocal melodies over the hazy keyboard progressions are some of the best moments on the album. The latter part of the album offers up more memorable efforts, both in the intensified vein of rockers like “Don’t Say We’re There Yet” and charming acoustical, key-based tracks like the oddly titled “Successful Face Transplant”. The former of the two is one of the best displays of Bate’s vocals as well, possessing a soaring Jim James-like voice that can make even the simplest progressions sound grandiose and anthemic. The quality of From Whence It Came is not to be doubted, only this group’s direction. Judging from this though, evolution seems to be likely, eventually propelling The Yes Pleases to great heights that their evident talents will dictate.

——————————————————————————————

The Yes Pleases – From Whence It Came

——————————————————————————————

The Yes Pleases – 70%

——————————————————————————————

The Yes Pleases – Don’t Say We’re There Yet

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

The post The Yes Pleases appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

Nathan Pemberton refuses to abide by the DIY stereotype. He records in his Florida garage with an economical home studio, which supplies just enough firepower for him to make his innovations come alive. But despite the allure of lo-fi minimalism that comes attached with these modest circumstances, Pemberton is pursuing the most majestic sound possible in accordance to his personal repertoire. He is a multi-instrumentalist in the truest sense, using his experience with a multitude of instruments to encompass his material in its entirety. There are few collaborators to be heard, only the ideas of Pemberton and his five friends/roommates as they flow gracefully in a mixture of epic jams and dreamily intricate indie-rock. They go under the alias of Holiday Shores, a name that will certainly be reputable by year’s end. Hip-hop, punk or metal, and lo-fi pop have always seemed to be the easiest to tackle with a home studio due to their respective forays in sampling, tremolo riffs, and bare minimalism, but Pemberton, Holiday Shores’ songwriter, seems to have crafted a winning combination with doses of heartfelt pop nostalgia and contemporary indie-rock wizardry. He possesses the ambition of a jam band or post-rock experimenters, all while retaining the pop sensibilities that fellow genre-mashing contemporaries like Sunset Rubdown and Deerhunter have flawlessly exhibited throughout the past several years. But do not overly associate Holiday Shores with these acts. After all, their greatest strengths are in their own ideas, not the inspiration of others.

Being seemingly aware of your past and present is simply one of Pemberton’s strengths, as concocting an original sound from a variety of influences is not the only ingredient required for success. Songwriting and flow are both elements that are overlooked by many groups new and old, not necessarily because they disvalue it but because it is so difficult to combine great and captivating songwriting with a sound that is entirely your own, whether it derives from past successes or not. Pemberton accomplishes this tricky venture with rare precision, making the best of his garage studio to unveil his enigmatic voice and compositional prowess in a manner that should mark Holiday Shores as one of 2009’s breakthrough acts. Pemberton’s pop sensibilities often result in songs barely exceeding four minutes, but both his capitalization of minimal resources and extremely impressive grasp of several instrumentals combine for unconventional endeavors that make four-minute efforts feel epic in the best way possible. For instance, the sputtery “Days Drag” uses the echoes of guitar distortion to craft an initial feeling of rough-edged repetition, only to be beautifully complemented by a twinkling bundle of keys. The transitional phases that this song encompasses, like many others on its album, are always one step ahead of their subsequent outcomes, resulting in an album full of replay value.

On Holiday Shores’ debut album, Columbus’d The Whim, the initial development always turns into something extremely gratifying and precise, like the keys in “Days Drag” or the evolution of muffled percussion into expansive hi-hats in “Tremor Rolls the Peak”. These turns are unexpected, but Pemberton’s strong pop ties often make the ideas sound extremely appealing after the second or even first listen. A beauty like “Edge of Our Lives” requires only a few minutes to recognize its brilliance though, sounding like the perfect mash of a lost ‘60s classic and today’s indie-pop breeziness. I would be surprised if it is not a college-radio favorite by year’s end. Between Pemberton’s tranquil voice, the interweaving guitar arrangements, and explosive hook that the chorus crisply generates, this is a surefire accomplishment in every regard. That it is difficult to spot the hook I am referring to is part of the song’s allure; there are so many different methods of achieving melodic greatness here that describing only one is an injustice. There also seems to be a slight undertone of jazz in the use of keys and guitar, again beckoning to jam bands of the past and their tendency to unveil pop hooks under an intricate cast of evolving instrumentation. This may be one of the album’s more accessible tracks, but there are few that show the group’s apparent high level of musicianship as well.

Comparisons, as I mentioned before though, are a bit extraneous in regard to Holiday Shores, as so many influences can be found in their sound that it eventually becomes influentially indistinguishable. However, as a songwriter and vocalist, Pemberton seems to recall the ingenious ability of Tom Verlaine most vividly. Like many up-and-coming indie-rock acts these days, the work of Verlaine and Television is a strong influence in Pemberton’s sound. This is most notable in his songs’ ability to evolve into full-scaled epics, usually with the innovative pushing of a particular instrument (most often in a soaring guitar solo or trickle of keys). He also emits a similar croon, finding a warm place between nasally elegance and brittle yelps over series of concise guitar progressions and hectically implemented keyboards. It all depends on the track though, as Columbus’d The Whim is so enthused with its own ambition that it achieves greatness on its innovation alone. But considering it IS a pop album at heart, the stellar songwriting of Pemberton certainly helps the cause. Both fans of modern indie-rock and nostalgic pop music will likely embrace Holiday Shores because of this, not only because it can remind them of their favorite bands, but also allow them to discover a new one in the process. I consider Columbus’d The Whim one of this year’s must-haves. It is an enormous accomplishment for any album, making its status as a debut album that much more impressive.

——————————————————————————————

Holiday Shores – Edge of Our Lives

——————————————————————————————

Holiday Shores – Tremor Rolls the Peak

——————————————————————————————

Holiday Shores – Days Drag

——————————————————————————————

MySpace

Two Syllable Records

BUY

The post A Holiday Shores Getaway appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

Although many industry professionals may have a tendency to disagree, there is nothing wrong with the audible expression of youthful exuberance. An immediate assumption would associate this expression with experience, which is a vastly premature notion that is prompted by the same stereotypes that plague mainstream pop artists. Society has grown so accustomed to seeing boy bands and pop idols being coddled by restless music execs, paid-for-hire songwriters, and millionaire choreographers that insist on implementing generic ideas in order to appeal to the general public. Consequently, there is not even a shock factor involved when one of these glittery wunderkinds starts attempting to write songs on their own. Instead, denial is the most prevalent feeling amongst former fans that feel somewhat betrayed by their idol’s decision to actually relay their OWN emotions and talents. Execs tend to avoid this maneuver, predicting a lack of success based primarily on the fact that sex will sell better than “childish” anecdotes and the acquisition of experience. They are right too, but this is not to say that showing one’s child-like enthusiasm for music should be deemed industrially dangerous just because there are no vetted supervisors. My main issue with mainstream pop is this, that one is criticized or immediately disregarded for thinking outside the box and, in doing so, showing their commitment to an art that truly relies on innovation at this point in its history.

As a result of this, it is safe to say that Kinetic Stereokids will never be the darlings of the mainstream pop world. Their music sounds much too improvised, unpredictable, and stylistically fused for that. How dare they attempt such creativity within the realm of pop music! It almost sounds as if the five guys in Kinetic Stereokids are friends in middle school, getting into music performance for the first time simultaneously. Who the hell would give someone with that description a chance? Well, any fan of Beck, the Beastie Boys, or the Avalanches already has, as these are just a few examples of acts that defied the typically corporate format of pop music with groundbreaking stylistic fusions and engrossing thematic concepts that were able to cater to both fans of innovation and popular music. Their names remain trademarks of the ‘90s and ‘00s as this decade comes to a close, allowing neither their enigmatic enthusiasm nor initial lack of experience to prevent them from selling millions of records and, more importantly, attaining respectability in a genre that is overly selective when it comes to something new and different. Kinetic Stereokids look to continue a similar trend in a new era, one rampant with technological differences that could prove to be a benefit or detriment to the creation of music in the coming years.

Preparing a sophomore album is always a sensitive topic. It is the band’s first exposure to a world of expectations, regardless of whether your album went gold or sold ten copies. Criticism tends to be taken more prominently for the most mature artists, as these eventually come to be perceived as free constructive criticism rather than some blowhard lamenting his biased disdain for a style he personally does not enjoy. That Kinetic Stereokids have released an epic for their second album seems like a gesture of sorts, perhaps to the critics that found their 2007 debut, Basement Kids, too inconsistent for their tastes. Sometimes it was too flip-floppy, while other times it was consistent but too mundane. The impressive qualities certainly outweighed the bad ones, but it struggled like most debuts do in attempting to capture a cohesive feel throughout the album. This often relies on thematic and melodic consistencies, which are two qualities that Kinetic Stereokids’ new album, Kid Moves, accomplishes with relative ease. Its length spans over 70 minutes, but the consistent focus on recapturing youth results in some of the freshest and most inventive material you are bound to hear this year. After all, the enthusiasm of childhood is something that many adults attempt to reclaim. Kinetic Stereokids make this a bit easier.

Kid Moves is not an album that is particularly easy to listen to; most albums that attempt dozens of genres over a 70-minute span are not. But this release is impressive for several reasons, the most blatant being how they are able to seamlessly imitate a multitude of styles while retaining the youthful expression that makes their music so irresistibly fun. The opener, “Free Money”, sounds like one of those summer jams from the ‘90s with its infusion of hip-hop percussion and chirpy vocals corresponding excellently with the near-improvised distortion of several electric guitars. As the band personally clarifies, fusing the sounds of Sonic Youth and the Beastie Boys is not the worst idea in the world. “Twisted Thoughts” is not as intricately interwoven but it still packs a similar punch, contrasting an automated robot voice with naturally sweet acoustics and a natural croon that shows Kinetic Stereokids as supremely talented musicians with a great knack for melody. The robot seems to be describing some sort of acid trip too, which makes the serene progressions even more comforting. That it is followed by the psychedelic hip-hop of “Drugs Is a Drag” is no coincidence, as Kid Moves is an album that flows with surprising precision despite its daunting stylistic diversity. “Drugs Is a Drag” later flows into some Avalanches-like mash-up that leaves me thoroughly impressed; the incorporation of guitar solos over the samples of an operatic tenor, hazy percussion, and warbled vocals make this an effort of extreme innovation, just like the album it is included on.

I could go on all day about how more tracks, specifically “Assisted Living” and “Planes with Teeth”, are groundbreaking in several ways, but this is an album designed for listeners willing to enjoy surprises. The eight-minute “Planes with Teeth” incorporates scratched samples with haunting alt-rock theatrics reminiscent of Radiohead and whimpering acoustics that recall either Jeff Buckley or a stripped-down Modest Mouse. You can even find some free-jazz if you listen closely, reminiscent of Talk Talk’s later material. These all gradually grow into one another, eventually resulting in a fusion that should leave any appreciators of various genres with their jaws wide open and their ears begging for more. I rarely come across a band with such a grasp of both natural and electronic concepts. Usually it is difficult to find an artist with esteemed talent for just one, but Kinetic Stereokids have defied expectations and churned out an album that is truly one of 2009’s best because of their ability to cohesively and seamlessly incorporate the best of both worlds. Contrary to their name, Kinetic Stereokids are anything but kids when it comes to their musical ability. They just possess a similar passion and ambition, one that will eventually be fulfilled if they keep releasing epic triumphs like Kid Moves.

——————————————————————————————

Kinetic Stereokids – Planes with Teeth

——————————————————————————————

Kinetic Stereokids – Twisted Thoughts

——————————————————————————————

Kinetic Stereokids – Drugs Is a Drag

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

The post Kinetic Stereokids appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

June was an interesting month in terms of diversity. Not so much in the actual styles presented, but rather in the tone and polish of each differing delivery. This compilation was designed to present, in order, groups that show varying amounts of flexibility in their sound. Most artists here within the realm of indie-rock, but there are prevalent differences in their approach and philosophy. It begins with a polished psychedelic spectacle by Elephant Stone, followed by two similarly adjusted tracks by the excellent Mariage Blanc and the promising Mar Project. Caledonia brings listeners back to indie-rock normality, just like the breezy feel of Foreign Born’s effort. But before this pattern is continued, slightly more traditional efforts from Deer Tick (folk) and Lee Fields (soul) slow things down a bit in a satisfying way. Velan then brings us back to the summery indie-rock feel that Foreign Born previously introduced, and the compilation is concluded by two very young bands that specialize in lo-fi pop craftsmanship. These tracks differ in approach and method of production, but they also share a distinctive quality that makes them all quite memorable. The styles are present and effective, but it is the songwriting this month that should impress most prominently.

01. Elephant Stone – How Long (post)
02. Mariage Blanc – Marquee (post)
03. Mar Project – Stepping Stone (post)
04. Caledonia – Restless Year (post)
05. Foreign Born – Early Warnings (post)
06. Deer Tick – The Ghost (post)
07. Lee Fields & The Expressions – Ladies (post)
08. Chris Velan – Pauper in a Palace (post)
09. Let’s Wrestle – My Schedule (post)
10. Big Fresh – Large Crowds (post)

DOWNLOAD ENTIRE COMPILATION>>> (55.8 MB, .RAR)

The post Obscure Sound: Best of June 2009 appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

To successfully imitate a foreign musical tradition, there must be a regard for both the cultural relevance and stylistic composition of the music. I am not referring to subtle hints of African percussion in dance-pop or the forced use of a sitar or balophone, but rather a cumulative creation of the music’s role in the country it originated from. Discovering this cultural importance is often something that only natives can relate to, as one cannot simply learn the tribulations of growing up in a certain country from a dramatized textbook. For an artist to truly grasp their foreign influences, they must look further than the instrumentation used and the accustomed time signature. And to truly become a part of a different culture, one of the biggest barriers to overcome is linguistically based. Communication is essential to separate one’s self from the position of a tourist, as the knowledge and friendships acquired from the common bond of language results in a new perception that relies more on human interaction than placid observations. To implement foreign ideas into compositions whose audience is primarily domestic is a risky venture, but it is hard to find a great songwriter that is not a risk-taker.

When Paul Simon released “Mother and Child Reunion” in 1972, it was one of the first attempts by a white musician to imitate reggae. The song appeared on his first solo album, prompting an ardent reaction due to the accessible folk-pop that Simon & Garfunkel popularized throughout the ‘60s. As his first and later releases would prove though, it was the first move of action in a solo career undoubtedly inspired by a variety of foreign musical ideas. The song did very well on the charts, with the fantastic result overlooking the fact that Simon had actually recorded the song in Jamaica. This hands-on approach was something that was echoed throughout his career, both in his infatuation with mbaqanga and folk. The Beatles had imitated reggae more subtly with “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da” in 1968, and their relationship with middle-eastern music is no secret (nor was George Harrison’s documented visits to the middle-east). What Simon and those four lads from Liverpool indicate is the proper treatment of infusing foreign ideas into popular American music, allowing their works to serve as a potential influence for contemporary artists that seek to expand their musical horizons into something new, exciting, and rarely heard in their own country. They traveled to destinations where the style originated or was popular, worked with the leading artists in those fields (Jimmy Cliff, Ravi Shankar), and used these experiences to ease the western public into musical styles that may not have originated from their own countries.

Artists like Paul Simon and The Beatles have influenced hordes of followers to be receptive toward the stylistically unknown, but one may also notice that both of these artists did not attempt significant stylistic infusion until the later part of their careers. Simon did not prominently display his African influences until after nearly a decade with Simon & Garfunkel, while The Beatles’ middle-eastern leanings were not exposed until their seventh album, Revolver. Raw musical experience was essential for the infusion of foreign and domestic ideas, so these artists had to wait until they were entirely comfortable with western music in order to tackle the exotic. To compare Hiroshi Kono to legends like these would be premature, but to show such ambition this early in his career suggests Kono is a name that will be around for quite awhile. Under the name of Mar Project, Kono and producer Roger Fife create material that borders on the serenely beautiful and fervently empowering, implementing familiar pop goodness with an ambitious demeanor that rarely is seen among artists in their 20s. This ambition is rooted in Kono’s fascination with varying languages. Their second album, Mar Project I, featured ten songs in three different languages (English, Italian, and Portuguese) with the accompaniments for each track being stylistically appropriate. Hearing the lush sounds of a classical guitar over accentuated Portuguese proved entirely effective, as did the throwback cabaret with seductive Italian musings. For a sophomore release, it was one that defied the qualms concerning ambition that overtakes many songwriters at this early point in their careers.

Mar Project’s newest album, Stepping Stone, finds Kono successfully capitalizing upon the potential exhibited on Mar Project I. This time around, however, the songs are more straightforwardly in the vein of pop music, though that is not to say that his ambition was sacrificed in the process. Kono’s previous album was more direct in its ambition, but the accessibility of Stepping Stone allows listeners to discover Kono’s quirks and diverse tendencies for themselves. The aid of Roger Fife once again aids to this factor of diversity, as his past production work spans from Fatboy Slim to Antony and the Johnsons. Kono’s style of pop is often accentuated with serene synth pads, soft acoustics, and a rhythm section reminiscent of bossa nova, creating for circumstances that are laid-back but also abundant in hooks and durability. The album’s title track is simple at heart, ushering in little more than a simple acoustic guitar during verses dominated by Kono’s distinctive croon. The transition into the chorus is the real treat though, as Kono advises listeners to “open their eyes” as the warm rush of synth pads encapsulate the faint whispers of acoustic and electric guitars. A beauty of a track for sure. “Beacon” recalls The Auteurs’ Luke Haines with an eerie distinction; Kono sounds exactly like the Brit-pop legend, from the samba-based rhythm section to the lush chorus. His vocals possess the same sort of indiscreet swagger, filled with memorable moments that are primarily guided by the excellent relationship between the guitars, percussion, and subtle synths. The acoustic guitar solo that takes place around 02:12 is an outstanding example of Kono’s foreign distinction, cleverly mixing accessible pop with classical influences that turn the track into an unpredictably enjoyable infusion of pop and slight bossa nova.

With “Beacon” serving the first single, “Run” stands as the other one with a brisk demeanor that exposes some apt swiftness on an album full of down-tempo electronics and acoustics. This one seems to have a theme of ambiguity to it, appropriately accompanied by a melody that would feel right at home in a British spy movie. The synth-laced strings only help the case too, as do Kono’s suave vocals and infectious “doo-doo-doo”-ing during the satisfying chorus. Once again, the Luke Haines comparison is prevalent without borrowing entirely from the style he perfected throughout the ‘90s, though a song like “Again” seems more reminiscent of Beck with its heavily filtered vocals and gritty delivery. Here, Kono allows a fluttering array of twinkling synths to accompany the acoustic guitars, eventually sounding like a cross between ‘90s alternative-rock and shoegaze. Comparisons to diverse musicians like Haines and Beck serve Kono well, as he has exhibited a similar amount of ambition since his first release in 2003. Apart from being Kono’s best album yet, Stepping Stone is an album filled with elegant pop music that justifies Kono’s prevalence of influences from the ‘90s. While it may sit comfortably alongside acts like The Auteurs and Placebo that have already seen their heydays pass, Kono’s restraint and foreign ambition provides ample showings of ingenuity in a genre that could really use it. Stepping Stone is a very enjoyable indication of that.

——————————————————————————————

Mar Project – Stepping Stone

——————————————————————————————

Mar Project – Again

——————————————————————————————

Mar Project – Beacon

——————————————————————————————

Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

The post Hiroshi Kono’s Mar Project appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.