Sindie 4 tread everywhere from Wire’s concise punk to Roxy Music’s sophisticated touch of glam, from swirling organ-led psychedelia to hazy British Invasion. The trio turn their pocketful of influences into fiercely infectious art-rock gems with quick innovation. Originating from Chelyabinsk, Russia, Sindie 4 are currently unsigned. It must be out of preference; they’re one of the most exciting unsigned acts I’ve heard in some time. Their debut, Inside! Inside! Inside!, isn’t even ten minutes long, but manages to leave a lasting impression comparable to how the one or two-minute bursts of brilliance on early Wire albums – like Pink Flag and Chairs Missing – left an audible imprint.

One unique conceptual take is the infusion of Chelyabinsk, specifically the city’s sounds and atmosphere, into their music. The ominous industrial-tinged synth backing of “September”, along with its quickly trickling percussion and keys, would synchronize well with the bustling of the city’s square. Yet the concept is much more prominent is on a track like “The Hive”, with its blaring sirens and administrative PA output. On the vocal end, there’s a reoccurring bark from militaristic vocals, which aligns with furious yet tactful percussion that would fit well in a drum line. Here and throughout the album it makes sense that drummer Artem Loginovsky played in a military band with bassist Nikita Tyurin; their chemistry is evident, and the rhythm section’s importance on the album is impossible to overlook. Lead vocalist Anton Sheludko is a force in himself, with a presence similar to a Damo Suzuki or Mark E. Smith, but like all great post-punk acts the rhythmic collaboration is essential. And here, it’s a phenomenal one.

“September” divvies up the album appropriately, as the first half plays closer with elements of traditional Russian music and punk. The second half of “Biotechnologies” is particularly indicative of their Russian influence. Keys and brass combine for an exotic sound; keys drip over an ominous guitar reverb, the melody enchanting but also slightly unnerving. For a track barely over two minutes, the number of ideas here is remarkable. They’re all worthwhile ones too; the duration doesn’t allow for filler, and Sindie 4 are entirely aware of this. “Antisleep” is the album’s longest at three minutes, but its organ-led psychedelia warrants development, especially as it transitions into an exceptional chorus. Here sound is extremely similar to Edwyn Collins and Orange Juice, matching his emotional vibrato and resonating jangle.

Closer “Sorry Sindie” is a fun farewell in the vocal tradition of Nick Cave and Tom Waits, intertwined with bouncy art-rock in the more contemporary vein of Arctic Monkeys. Though not as distinctive as other efforts, it’s another success that manages to tout energy and creativity, even if some influences are impossible to mask. Sindie 4 are going to break out eventually. It’s just a matter of when. Another new album, that one being over ten minutes, would help. Using a solid debut like Inside! Inside! Inside! to work off of should make the process less daunting.

Download Inside! Inside! Inside here, or stream the tracks below:

Sindie 4 – Antisleep

Sindie 4 – Sorry Sindie

Sindie 4 – The Hive

Sindie 4 – Biotechnologies

Sindie 4 – September

RIYL: Wire, Edwyn Collins, Orange Juice, The Fall, Can, Kraftwerk

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Contemporary interpretations of rhythmically inclined genres, like R&B and soul, have remained a continuous trend. Quality predecessors have already shown the style to appear timeless, so that is one attributing factor, but its abundance today in independent music circles is more indebted to its seamless maneuverability in sampling. That is not a reference to straightforward cut-and-paste samples, but rather the ability of R&B and soul classics to cohesively take on different forms when tempo and sequencing is altered and cross-bred with original ideas.

Combine this with the accessibility of home recording and you find a likely source for a movement that contains names like How to Dress Well, Avey Tare, El Guincho, Toro y Moi, and James Blake. Some of these artists have fallen somewhat lazily into the “chillwave” tag, which fails to render an all-encompassing categorization despite the attempts of some bloggers. There is no need to lump How to Dress Well and James Blake into the same category despite some shared characteristics; they each tout similar influences, but deliver with such different approaches – of varying levels of intimacy, sampling, and structural maneuvering – that any newly concocted genre tags are unnecessary and somewhat insulting to the artists.

Autre Ne Veut (“I want no other”) is a fine example of an artist following in the footsteps of these aforementioned influences, all while sounding completely different from them. It’s a one-man project with virtually no other information; the frontman remains elusive and anonymous – much like Burial, Neon Indian, and Unknown Mortal Orchestra in their earliest phases. He has a voice that resounds with the flamboyant swagger of Scissor Sisters, Erasure, and Hot Chip – combined with a nasally confidence reminiscent of CYHSY’s Alec Ounsworth.  Backing him up is a swanky, grimy, and absurdly infectious swarming of vibrating ‘80s-inspired synths, pulsing drums, and subtle moog bass. On his wildly impressive Body EP – which follows up last year’s acclaimed eponymous full-length – Autre Ne Veut offers up four memorable songs that showcase a dizzying variation of his R&B-meets-swanky-electro-pop sound.

Deliveries on the EP range from the sexy yet straightforward electro-pop of “Your Clothes” to the brilliant sampling of “Not the One”, which repeats She Wolf’s anxious clamoring over an exotic and invigorating composition that only fully stands alone during the final minute. This is easily the song’s best moment after such a climactic build-up; it keeps the listener wanting to delve more into Autre Ne Veut’s clearly impressive songwriting abilities, even if his tendency to write concise pop songs can get the better of him. Instances like this, though, show just how great of an atmospheric builder his compositional skills can be. “Just Return” is highly reminiscent of The Knife, complete with shrieking synths that stab at the listener with a futuristic fury that also takes cues from Kraftwerk.

Perhaps the most notable is opening effort “Sweetheart”, which evolves from a ghostly synth pad and ambulance siren to a full-on anthem with extraordinary dance floor appeal. Expect this one to get a boatload of remixes, hopefully most of them quality. “Sweetheart don’t think we’ll make it out,” he sings before the burst of whirring synths. You can hear glimpses of Of Montreal’s swagger, Cut Copy’s electro polish, and Grimes’ darkly omniscient progressions – but overall Autre Ne Veut is a singularly unique accomplishment bound to make waves.

RIYL: How to Dress Well, Avey Tare, El Guincho, Toro y Moi, James Blake, Scissor Sisters, Erasure, Grimes, Cut Copy, Hot Chip, Of Montreal, Kraftwerk, Burial, The Weeknd

Autre Ne Veut – Sweetheart

Autre Ne Veut – Just Return

Autre Ne Veut – Two Days of Rain (from eponymous release)

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With more emphasis on guitars and real drums, Woodsman continue the trend of electronic-induced psychedelia prevalent in major acts today. From Animal Collective’s tribal-like fervency to the lush “chillwave” tag associated with acts like Washed Out and Neon Indian, the most recent crop of the stylistic movement has been surprisingly accessible considering its psychedelic roots. Artists within it now sit alongside contemporary college-radio favorites like The Shins and Beach House with ease as listeners oblivious to the “chillwave” tag either find trendy nostalgic value in it or dismiss it as lo-fi rubbish, often without a clue as to what lo-fi actually is. One could argue to mesh lo-fi and electronic genres for recent artists like Washed Out, who defy lo-fi conventions by replacing tinny strats and minimal percussion with sonorous synths and booming drum loops. But even when the automated percussion is minimized, the flexibility of synth VSTs and samplers dilutes the essence of lo-fi, which is to produce quality songwriting with the bare minimum of resources. The polarizing effect on listeners of early Pavement, Modest Mouse, and later on Ariel Pink had much to do with the defiance of rock/pop expectations; radio listeners were so accustomed to artists cloaking their weaknesses through superfluously glistening production – especially by the late ‘80s and early ’90s – that many perennial lo-fi rock acts were initially questioned, regardless of how highly their songwriting is valued now.

Today, many people perceive lo-fi as anything that sounds gauzy or muddled. The thing is though, shitty production does not equate to lo-fi. The genre should be provided more as a complement than a tag for anyone with cheap recording methods and subpar songs. Woodsman seem well aware of the fact that songwriting helps define lo-fi and NOT vice versa. The Brooklyn/Colorado quartet’s full-length debut Rare Forms capitalizes on both conventions of lo-fi rock and expansive psychedelic efforts without cloaking or manipulating anything. The result is an album that does not confine itself to one approach, but rather a bevy of them completely reliant on the song’s tone and mood. There are plenty of lush, atmospheric psychedelic efforts on the album, but there are also those with heavy noise and drone influences that are potentially ear-piercing. Although repetition does get in the way of quality occasionally, Rare Forms turns out to be a fascinating listen that all artists bent out of shape on this lo-fi tag should listen to. For Woodsman, they set a nice example for weak artists attempting to write music for the lo-fi ideology, out of novelty instead of necessity.

“Dead Awake” explores the experimental path more, alternating between hazy acid-jazz and climactic percussion. When the latter fades momentarily, it resembles a room filled with the voices of distressed spirits; the chilling effect is even more gratifying once the percussion commences again and puts forth a tactfully ambitious turn, where the conventional beat turns into improv-like pit-pats. “Spectral Creatures” also sports some interesting percussion. It sounds like a mad fusion of hi-hats initially, with a constant buzzing drone in the background providing one of few melodic moments. It was obviously written as a lead-in to “I Can’t Move”, a refreshingly suave approach where glimpses of Afro-pop keys and delicate guitar strums combine for a lushly atmospheric effort. Animal Collective comparisons are abundant here, both in the Avey Tare-like vocal delivery and progression of wavy sounds. The chiming bells in the last minute represent the most delightful moment though, with smooth guitar licks gently caressing the bouncy keys with appropriate fervor.

“Future Pulls” takes the most advantage of Woodsman’s natural knack for subtleties. A twangy guitar tremolo is on double loop over vocal sound effects and clicky percussion, both of which evolve minimally to help enhance the sitar-like trance effect of the guitar tremolo. Both this and the following track, “Unnamed”, are successes for the most part, but some more variation would have helped. “Unnamed” takes a route that should be familiar to fans of The Flaming Lips’ newest album, Embryonic. Think of a more subdued, less abrasive version of “Aquarius Sabotage”. “Unnamed” is part psychedelia, noise, and post-punk as well. This percussion-heavy track works around a constant backing drone and warbled yelp of sorts. The experiment here is relatively successful, but it would be nice to see the band flesh out songs like this a tad more. There should be more body and less drone; the impressive use of percussion fortunately keeps the track upright.

After a slew of shorter releases that contained a bunch of hits and misses, Rare Forms is not the huge jump forward some fans were hoping for. Still, it is Woodsman’s most consistent and impressive release to date barring a few mundane efforts. The emphasis on repetition can become grating with a handful of thin concepts, though some tracks succeed greatly. In “Beat the Heat” there is a moment where a fluttering harmonica arpeggio enhances the overall mood of the track without sacrificing the initial presentation. In the process, it contributes an infectious quality that paces cohesively with the tones of psychedelia already present. I hope that Woodsman plant similar devices to this one on their next release, which judging from their prolific nature should not be too far off in the future.

RIYL: The Flaming Lips, Sonic Youth, Young Prisms, Kraftwerk, Mercury Rev, KeepAway, Small Black, Pill Wonder, Animal Collective, Neon Indian, Memory Tapes, Modest Mouse

Woodsman – I Can’t Move

Woodsman – Beat the Heat

Woodsman – Insects

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In my first feature of Grimes, I made the point that the music of Claire Boucher resembled conceptual art. With gauzy layers of synth that embed themselves into post-punk rhythms reminiscent of Joy Division’s “She’s Lost Control”, theatrical art-pop hooks that resembles the likes of The Knife and Björk, and subtle sampling to the effect of Kraftwerk and Burial, her music does not confine itself to one influence or genre. Instead, one experiences a meshing of several different components that combine for a sound that – while occasionally bizarre or puzzling – is thoroughly fascinating in its delivery. Boucher’s engrossing tendencies does not stop at the appearance of her style though, as her pop tendencies are present in each song. Unlike the absurdly pretentious conceptual art that offers an interesting delivery but no substance, Grimes plays like an infectiously majestic series of stylistic concoctions. Boucher makes her music align with her artwork and photos, which feature abstract shapes (usually of body parts) and a wide array of colors that give off the initial appearance of spontaneous disarray, only to reward the attentive viewer with beautifully cohesive formations that take effort to spot – but not too much to the point of becoming frustrating. Like her artwork, Grimes’ music has plenty of unconventional surprises.

Boucher’s additional talents in the visual arts were shown off wonderfully on her debut Geidi Primes, which featured songs that were as apt for artistic cinema as they were for caliginous electronica venues. I noted that a track like “Sardaukar Levenbrech” would be a great choice for inclusion in the next film by Hirokazu Koreeda, who is able to combine traditional Asian music and contemporary electronica to riveting images of resignation, loss, and isolation. Then there were efforts like “avi” that followed more catchy dance, with its reverbed percussion, pulsating bass, and gleaming of strings creating a dark but soothing atmosphere among Boucher’s flexible vocals. Her voice alternates between a subdued murmur of sorts and high-pitched flashes of enthusiasm, showing no hesitance to hold a shrill note if it sounds appropriate over gushing synth pads and austere percussion. We are merely a few months after the release of Geidi Primes, and apparently Boucher is discontent in having just one album to compete for a spot in the Top 50 of the year. Her new album, Halfaxa, was released in typical under-the-radar fashion, and it stands just as strong as its predecessor released earlier this year. To my delight, Boucher has not alternated her sound much, which she describes primarily as “goth-pop”, but with a heavy influence from “Medieval organum, R&B and hip-hop.”

Halfaxa represents, in several ways, the beginning of a transformation period for Boucher. All the songs on Halfaxa are recorded like on Geidi Primes, in DIY fashion directly through the microphone on Boucher’s computer. Change is on the horizon though, at least in regard to studio methods. It would be difficult to spot this based on the quality of her material, but quality songwriting and production always shine regardless of the medium. Ironically, directly after she wrapped up Halfaxa, Boucher realized how to record things through an interface. As a result, “Crystal Ball” – which was recorded using his new interface – did not make it to the album, but Boucher said this likely represents her “new phase”, which she looks forward due to the elimination of MIDI and the prospect of recording her synth straight into the computer. The result is not nearly as dark as her previous material, but with an optimistic glimmer that translates into a more upbeat and overall infectious effort. The percussion pattern follows post-punk as usual, with the click-clacking of minimalist percussion resembling the ominous shuffle of Joy Division. Boucher’s voice is crisper and more expansive than usual though, the variation between her high-pitched and lower vocals combining for some clever hooks. Her methodologies remain the same as various vocal melodies overlap for a sensational melodic turn-out, but “Crystal Ball” suggests we should expect a more accessible output from Boucher in the future. Regardless of whether or not “Crystal Ball” is on the album, I feel it is great enough to catch on like fire regardless. Expect to see this one posted on a bunch of blogs by the end of the year.

Moving on to cuts that actually made the album, “sagrad …” . Boucher’s ooh-ing complements a harp-like progression guided by a single snare, with the ooh-ing eventually serving as an additional synth pad as her lyrical verses emerge. The harp/mandolin-like qualities are eventually phased out in favor of an effervescent synth pad that begins to recall fastidious dance-pop in addition to the initially prevalent dubstep, a style that is present more often than not in the percussive additives alone. The structural route this song takes is extremely spontaneous, perhaps a bit too much for some, but the beauty of the track speaks volumes. The bursting effort “Dream Fortress” may appeal to those who like their structures a bit more accessible, as Boucher expands a string-drenched intro into a bouncy hustle of delicate synth whole notes. Her vocal melody here initially resembles the fantastic “avi”, but that is before the track incorporates additional string elements that border on the avant-garde. The squealing samples contrast with the strings around the two-minute mark quite remarkably though, and especially when the percussion kicks back in there is little to doubt as far as the track’s innovative appeal goes. The conclusion greets the listener with the same delicate chord progression from the beginning, albeit this time with a clanging yet fitting arpeggio that allows the song to end with its feet still on the ground.

Many of Boucher’s songs are so spontaneous and visually stimulating that length is not an obstacle. In fact, there are several five-minute tracks on here that I wished would go on longer. Tracks like “world ? princess” and “sagrad …” contain a multitude of memorable moments that bear repeating before a transition comes on too abruptly. What follows is always entertaining, but there are some greater ideas than others and it is evident that Boucher is still learning to identify these and capitalize upon them. “Weregild” does not suffer from this at all though, standing as one of the better efforts on Halfaxa in regard to mood, tempo, and general infectiousness. Like “Crystal Ball”, this should spread rapidly among fans of moody electronic music. This one specifically recalls Depeche Mode, a band that Boucher is not hesitant to express her respect for (check her shirt in the second press shot). Of course, Boucher’s voice is extraordinarily unique here as usual, and her exploitation of the various pitches she is able to emit is awe-inspiring. Check out the retrospective push of billowing synth sequences around the 02:30 mark and try not to be swept away. Most songs on Halifaxa are just as inspiring, and Boucher is the only artist I am aware of in 2010 who has released two full-lengths worthy of year-end mentions.

RIYL: The Knife, Björk, Depeche Mode, Joy Division, Kraftwerk, Marissa Nadler, Forest Swords, How to Dress Well, Prince, Black Dice, Hildegaard von Bingen, Cocteau Twins, Twin Shadow, Julian Lynch, Wild Nothing, James Blake, Autre Ne Veut, CEO, Avey Tare, Glasser, Gold Panda, Small Black, Blackbird Blackbird

Grimes – Crystal Ball

Grimes – Weregild (mirror)

Grimes – Dream Fortress

Arbutus Records

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Ace is the “wild guy in the group” who likes doing mad trickz on his bike, while “AZN Thunda” AKA Brett has a “hard exterior but a soft inside, just like mochi (being from Asia of course)”. This is the bio provided of Teengirl Fantasy – actually consisting of Oberlin College students Nick Weiss and Logan Takahashi – on their web site, which is a knock on old Angelfire designs from the ‘90s, complete with hundreds of simultaneous GIF images and custom backgrounds. It seems ironic in two ways: that its fictitious 13-year-old webmaster shares her teengirl fantasies (that is, meeting Teengirl Fantasy), and that the duo’s sound is incredibly polished, quite the opposite of a ‘90s web page. Polished enough to showcase the duo’s excellent production, which has recently increased their level of recognition among other musicians looking for some quality production.

Teengirl Fantasy’s appearance on Das Racist’s new and heralded mix tape, Sit Down, Man, will probably grab a few more fans for both duos. It is one of many standouts on an album that I imagine will grow in popularity over the next few months. The popularity is because of their polarizing effect, since some hip-hop fans view their music as a parody of the genre. I don’t know about that, but parodies do not sound this good. I, for one, disliked their previous material but love Sit Down, Man. Teengirl Fantasy’s production in “Commercial”, the sixth track on the release, combines an ingeniously commercial-like hook (surprise) with their form of chillwave/electronica, which variates from blissed-out serenity to high-throttle dance depending on the effort. It never quite is restrained entirely to one of those though. This one is more in the laid-back vein, with the topic actually poking fun at those who prematurely criticize anything “commercial”. The choice of production fits this emphasis with perfection, especially with Das Racist employing their vocals with smoothness and precision associated with songs of the mainstream stereotype. Well, except this is actually good. This collaboration is just a peek into Teengirl Fantasy’s unique world though, which seems strange enough that an enthusiastic 13-year-old could describe the sensation their music provides better than an esteemed music critic.

Teengirl Fantasy’s new album, 7AM, was released earlier this month. While it is certainly a worthwhile release, my interest in the duo still peaks when I put on CD-R, their aptly titled release from 2009. With favorites like “Azz Klapz”, “Hoop Dreams”, and “Now That’s What I Call vol. 2”, it is arguably the best entry point to Teengirl Fantasy’s material, even with 7AM already out. Their expertise, which they describe well as a love for 4/4 time, warm-sounding synths, and concisely infectious soul/R&B loops, is performed at its optimum on CD-R. “Hoop Dreams” is one of the examples of what Teengirl Fantasy does best, which is either slowing or speeding up the tempo of pre-existing tracks, adding their own accompaniments, and going crazy from there. Weiss first brought attention to the group nearly two years ago with a slowed-down version of Mariah Carey’s “Touch My Body”, and since then the group has showed incredible chops in regard to the manipulation of sound and time. Well, by ‘time’ I mean tempo, but the original phrase sounds cooler.

“Hoop Dreams” is essentially a modified version of “Egyptian Shumba” by The Tammys, an underground favorite from the early ‘60s. That song failed to receive much airplay because it was ahead of its time, which you can hear in the original. Teengirl Fantasy show off their production chops by turning it into an all-out dance fest. They make the vocals sound like a possessed version of Deerhoof’s Satomi Matsuzaki or Love Is All’s Josephine Olausson, and turn the lead organ line into a steady melodic leader over bubbly synths and distorted percussion. I imagine anyone who is old enough to have heard the original when it came out would detest this, calling it too loud and disorganized for their tastes. Teengirl Fantasy are latching onto a recent movement though, and their creativity within it is nothing to be ashamed of. Sure, they may not have created the backbone of this particular track and others executed in a similar vein, but their specific talents are more evident than ever here. It is also an excellent inclusion on a running mix. Mostly all of their music is.

RIYL: Kraftwerk, Malajube, Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti, Hangedup, HRSTA, Esmerine, Polmo Polpo, Mogwai, Black Ox Orkestar, Set Fire to Flames, A Silver Mt. Zion, Valley of the Giants, The Dead Science, Do Make Say Think, Carla Bozulich, Labradford, Tarentel, The For Carnation, Vic Chesnutt, Pan•American

Teengirl Fantasy – Azz Klapz

Teengirl Fanasy-Hoop Dreams by Check Yo Ponytail

Teengirl Fantasy – Cheaters (from their new album, 7AM)

Das Racist – Commercial (produced by Teengirl Fantasy)

Das Racist – Amazing (featuring Lakutis) (produced by Keepaway)

Official Site

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Things usually fare well for film geeks when they show a passion for making music. By film “geeks”, I’m not referring to that friend who can name every David Lynch or Lars von Trier film. They might know every underground film in existence, but if they have no knowledge of production or the film aesthetic than they are merely a critic (and probably a bad one at that). This is not to say that an artist cannot simultaneously be an enthusiast of his own medium, and vice versa. The potential for artistic growth is wonderfully sporadic and somewhat randomized, and when it comes to film-savvy people there tends to be a greater advantage for them to grasp the necessities of quality music. It somewhat mirrors the tendencies of a quality film after all, where atmosphere, performance, and stylistic consistency are vital aspects. In a sense, even though mise en scène is visually bound, music has its own form of it. The subtle, sometimes indescribable tendencies that take place in music set the scene, and it is reliant on the artist to formulate the proper visual and/or audible accompaniment within their medium.

John Kowalski and Rian Trench named their band Solar Bears as a tribute to famed Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky. The two had always shared a love for cinema, but it is hard to say if it ever trumped their love for music. Considering the degree of success they have experienced in the latter thus far, one could say their decision to focus on Solar Bears is in the best of their interests. When speaking about their music, their interest in film immediately emerges. “With Moroder, for instance in Scarface, some of the pieces are quite minimal but they are very effective,” Kowalski said excitedly in an interview with Dummy, who would also enforce the duo’s enthusiasm with their “ability to paint a vivid landscape with a relatively minimal palette; creating resonant textures from very little”. Judging by their colorfully atmospherically music, you get the sense they would produce something evolutionary on film… something that evolves from monochromatic dullness to a thriving gloss of colors and imagery. Their own music would be a perfect backdrop considering it can pull precisely the same thing off.

Solar Bears’ debut LP, She Was Coloured In, contains a rather apt cover image. You see a red woman crossing her hands with reflections of her by her side, all set in a different color. The colors actually reflect the three monochrome images on a TV – RGB – and the woman’s figure looks as if it is fading out against analog video noise. As one of the better electronic debuts of 2010, She Was Coloured In shows the band’s range of flexibility. They can at one point sound like a producer of lullabies, with soft sweeping synths collaborating with luxurious orchestral elements, like the lucid twinkle of arpeggios in “Solarization” or the exotic “Cub”, which dabbles in woodwind-like sounds over chirpy synth pads. That a song called “Quiet Planet” represents one of their more rambunctious works is ironic, but it certainly show their infectious works more in the vein of a Röyksopp or Ratatat. Their restrained efforts may be more impressive though, at least for those accustomed to more organic and atmospheric works by artists like Kraftwerk and Yellow Magic Orchestra.

Their music recalls Kraftwerk’s innate abilities to turn electronic sounds into consummate atmospheres, whether it be complete with lavish hooks or developmental chaos. The chiptune-like percussion maintains a steady futuristic tone, often in 4/4 and accompanied by instruments that are both organic and technological. Like the interlude in “Forest of Fountains”, around 02:19, when it goes from a funk-like trance into a soft interlude of guitars. The transition is mesmerizing, as the cohesiveness of the journey is worth listening for alone. Their bass also has a tendency to sound organic, like in “Children of the Times” where a deep bass tone resonates alongside a vocoder and soft electro-keys, and it is one component of an essentially powerful rhythm section. At least for the sound they successfully produce here. They tread an appropriate line between naturally existent field recordings and man-made electronica, pushing forth an interesting emphasis on the production of their own music in the process. The sonorous tone of the synth pad throughout “Twin Stars” has a cinematic feel to it, almost like the build-up to a frenzied battle in some sophisticated manga re-enactment. The little flicker of synths that gradually add on contribute to the pulsating suspense. With examples like these, the duo are clearly masters of believable soundscapes, and their elaborate songwriting and production really go a long way in separating Solar Bears from the masses of atmospherically-dependent electronic artists.

RIYL: Kraftwerk, Yellow Magic Orchestra, Röyksopp, Ratatat, Gauntlet Hair, Twin Shadow, Tamaryn, Candy Claws, Women, Neu!, Elektric Music, Klaus Schulze, Cluster, Tangerine Dream, New Order, OMD, Orbital, Ultravox, Front 242, Laibach, Harmonia, Yello, Telex, Depeche Mode, Can

Solar Bears – Forest Of Fountains

Solar Bears – Children of the Times

Solar Bears – She Was Coloured In

Planet Mu Records

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Some things bear worth repeating. Feu Thérèse is one of them, as I feel exposing their music right now would be dramatically more effective than it was in 2007, when I found myself gushing over their debut, Ça Va Cogner. They had apparently split that same year, but their permanent elusiveness had prevented anyone from truly knowing. A quick blog post was the only mention online of their last show in June, lamenting their fate after one final remarkable performance. Perhaps some ignited new interest will bring them back?

The reason I feel Feu Thérèse would be given more attention in 2010 is their stylistic preference, which is very much in the vein of the “chillwave” and “dream-pop” movement that record labels like Mexican Summer, Carpark, and Paw Tracks have embraced for years. Even majors like EMI are jumping into the chillwave spectrum with artists like Miami Horror, whose recently leaked “Holidays” (feat. Neon Indian’s Alan Palomo) should be making huge waves of its own soon. That track specifically, with its feel-good guitar/key combo recalling Jamie Lidell’s soul-pop hybrid, is one example of how the utilization of ’60s/’70s soul samples is a trademark of the genre. From Washed Out to Neon Indian, their reliance on such samples is attributed to the soul genre’s seamless incorporation into elements of electronica. Even before the lush, vibrating soundscapes of chillwave, dance and R&B artists were accustomed to soul’s post-peak resourcefulness.

Feu Thérèse are the farthest thing from sample-heavy. Their veneration for the past is shown through more organic methods of post-punk and dubstep, which consequently sound darker and somber than the recent infusion of funk, soul, and doo-wop hybrids. Their music is more appropriate for dark and dusty basements, as opposed to the club-ready feel of today’s latest successes. So, if you wonder why I think they would find more success now, then simply listen to a track like “Nada”. It could easily be considered minimalism, with a repeating synth that does little more than languidly sway with the listener and a single snare. But when the structure packs more variation than one would expect and the chorus’ scat-like vocals extend from interwoven duality to a beautiful mix of screeching guitars and translucent key tremolos, it becomes heavily apparent that it aligns with and exceeds what today’s listeners are expecting from a post-punk/electronic hybrid.

Ça Va Cogner has grown remarkably well throughout the years, which makes it a shame that Feu Thérèse is no more. Frontman Jonathan Parant’s past work in Fly Pan Am is notable, but quite different in terms of scope. Their songs resemble a vein more akin to Mogwai or EITS; experimental 9-minute post-rock is what you would find, with their third studio album N’écoutez pas being the best. Fly Pan Am remain excellent, but it was never as uniquely infectious as Feu Thérèse. The sheer build-up in “Le bruit du pollen la nuit” definitely takes some of that developmental post-rock feel, but the ideas here flow so freely in a more concise vein than Fly Pan Am. Especially the way they implement vocalist Stephen de Oliveira’s variation between deep-tone spoken-word and intensified falsetto… it is melodically remarkable. Just do me a favor and check out Ça Va Cogner. These underrated talents deserve any attention possible.

RIYL: Fly Pan Am, Kraftwerk, Malajube, Ariel Pink’s Haunted Graffiti, Hangedup, HRSTA, Esmerine, Polmo Polpo, Mogwai, Black Ox Orkestar, Set Fire to Flames, A Silver Mt. Zion, Valley of the Giants, The Dead Science, Do Make Say Think, Carla Bozulich, Labradford, Tarentel, The For Carnation, Vic Chesnutt, Pan•American

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Feu Thérèse – Nada

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Feu Thérèse – Le bruit du pollen la nuit

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Feu Thérèse – La nuit est une femme

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Miami Horror – Holidays

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Fly Pan Am – Pas à Pas Step Until

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Southern Records

BUY

The post Feu Thérèse appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

by Mike Mineo

The Radio Dept. are one of the most frustrating groups of the past decade. It has nothing to do with their music, as serene electronica with washes of shoegaze and indie-pop is hardly offensive, but rather the frequency of their releases. For all of their massive followings and critical acclaim since they began releasing music (2002), it is somewhat surprising that The Radio Dept. have yet to attribute a desperate or contrived release to their name. I do not mean this as an insult to the working class of musicians, but pressures and self-imposed obligations often play a role in the creation of works that are not very indicative of an artist’s strengths or usual state of mind. If you got that four-star review from Rolling Stone and begin to notice that all your shows are sold out, would you still be inclined to strive for perfection? Or would mediocrity be enough, alongside your growing name and brand, to maintain a cult following (and the consequential profit)? Even if their exposure is more in the “independent” sector, The Radio Dept. have dealt with the hype and acclaim ever since their inception. On a national scale, 2006’s Pet Grief really jump-started things for the group, who could have easily followed it up a year later with a middling effort and sold even more sold copies. Clearly though, this band values their long-term future over a snapshot of present time. If not, a group of their stature and talent would not have waited four years for a follow-up to their most popular release.

Internet buzz is abound after the purported leak of The Radio Dept.’s third full-length, Clinging to a Scheme. It is another victim of poor iTunes management after the service made the album, initially due for release on April 19th, available for sale and distribution. Its listing has since been retracted, but it certainly gave fans enough time to grab the ten tracks. It makes one wonder whether or not musicians from all ends of the spectrum – from Lil Wayne to The Radio Dept. – are going to deal with the music giant after yet another premature leak (even if Lil Wayne’s Rebirth was so bad that the sooner we removed it from our memories, the better). Leaks on account of a major music firm that signed a contract prohibiting such actions prove detrimental to future marketing campaigns and a band’s overall image, theoretically making for a very interesting court case. All this legalistic mumbo-jumbo aside though, this is the first Radio Dept. album in four years and that is probably why you began to read this article in the first place. So I will get to the point: Clinging to a Scheme is an album, that despite its relatively straightforward stylistic path, has managed to invoke plenty of passionate opinions among the band’s most dedicated.

Despite being a band already renowned for both atmospheric production and repeating beauty, The Radio Dept.’s Clinging to a Scheme projects a more ambient and a repetitive feel when compared to its predecessors. There is an obvious fascination with post-punk, as there was on Pet Grief, but here it is more aligned with minimalistic electronic genres like Krautrock and more recent dubstep, which in the past decade has gravitated to a more minimally involved arsenal as opposed to its flexible beginnings (Benga’s fusion of dubstep and grime is a nice example of recent developments). The result comes rather seamlessly for The Radio Dept., as this is still distinctively the same band but with more focus on subtle rhythmic additions and gradual emergence of synths. Previously, the working process to obtain melodic beats and clever hooks occasionally overshadowed the atmospheric effect the band was trying to employ. Pet Grief‘s “I Wanted You to Feel the Same” is the most apt comparison for the material on Clinging to a Scheme, as its intent appears to be atmospheric in nature as opposed to stunning the listener with a series of intricately designed hooks dependent on particular production or ulterior motives. The Pet Dept. are demonstrating that volume is not a factor in determining a song’s worth, and there are plenty of tracks with absolutely stunning subtleties that indicate this throughout Clinging to a Scheme.

The album begins rather conventionally with a few extremely accessible efforts in “Heaven’s on Fire” and “This Time Around”, both of which capitalize upon brisk percussion and chirpy synths that appear contrary to subdued later efforts like the brilliantly moody “Memory Loss”. It is amazing how that track manages to send chills up my spine with only minor alterations to production and melody throughout. It could be a single synth-arp sequence or some percussive variation that plays a monumental role. Either way, the decision-making process appears flawless. This is highly reminiscent of classic Radio Dept. in that its subtleties carry it to enormous heights. “Never Follow Suit” is another one of the album’s biggest successes for a similar reason, generally taking this minimal-inspired and making it The Radio Dept.’s own. Considering that the main keyboard riff repeats throughout the song, the best ingredient to this track is the gradual accentuation of this repetition. The vocal sample, taken from a graffiti artist touting the self-important worth of his art, resounds brilliantly with the track’s theme of commitment to one’s self. “You want to, you wanted to, but never dared to,” the vocals murmur, glazed behind the usual reverb that accompanies most Radio Dept. tracks. When the melody transitions to a more upbeat scale in its final minute, the propulsion of strings and woodwinds (mainly employed through samples or synths) reminds us how talented The Radio Dept. are at turning the simplistically accessible into ethereal works of art that coincide with both atmospheric and emotional triggers of nostalgia.

“David” reminds me specifically of Junior Boys’ brilliant infusion of rhythm-led dance-pop and dance; it was the first actual single from the album and was released last July so I assumed the rest of Clinging to a Scheme to sound the same. “Heaven’s on Fire” certainly pursued a similar direction, but for the most part this is not an album filled with fun dance-laden hooks like on “David” or “This Time Around”. Both take a page or two too many from the “How to Make a Hip-Hop Beat” book, and these efforts sound a bit flat as a result. Unlike hip-hop artists producing beats with similar intensity, the band’s caressing vocal approach was never enough to carry a song on its own. The tracks that rely on atmospheric evolution, namely “Memory Loss” and “Never Follow Suit”, are exceedingly more rewarding. The mundane “Four Months in the Shade” and “Video Dept.” contain neither the infectious oomph of “David” or the atmospheric bliss of “Memory Loss”, but they are the only two tracks that fail to contribute anything of substance. Although it is not the album that will propel The Radio Dept. beyond their niche, Clinging to a Scheme is another enjoyable release from these electronic favorites. It has gems for both fans of infectious dance-pop and atmospherically-guided pieces of brilliance. The lack of energy on efforts like “Video Dept.” and the over-emphasis on infectiousness on a number of tracks is what prevents this album from being a stroke of genius though. The problem is, they are either infusing hip-hop beats without enough charisma or atmospheric tracks without enough initial presence. Optimistically though, this sounds fairly treatable considering the brilliant songcraft is still there. The Radio Dept. just need to be more consistent the next time around.

8.0/10.0

RIYL: Cocteau Twins, My Bloody Valentine, Joy Division, Pet Shop Boys, Junior Boys, Kraftwerk, Avalanches, Broadcast, Airiel, The Mary Onettes, Moscow Olympics, The Honeydrips, Boat Club

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The Radio Dept. – Never Follow Suit

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The Radio Dept. – Memory Loss

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The Radio Dept. – David

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MySpace

BUY

The post The Radio Dept. – Clinging to a Scheme (2010) appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

Starting with the more experienced, Piano Magic is a London-based collective of musicians that has revolved throughout their 12 years of existence. Glen Johnson, Dominic Chenell, and Dick Rance were the original members upon their formation in 1996, though Johnson is the only one currently remaining. He served as the lead songwriter and frontman after Chenell and Rance had left by 1999. Johnson’s leadership steered the group in a more conventional direction, as their first several years saw a higher emphasis on a style of experimental pop music that found difficulty amassing a steady fan base. At this point, the most common comparison was to that of Kraftwerk and other electronically-enabled forms of Krautrock. After Johnson took control and assembled a new lineup though, a more accessible stylistic transition was made to a highly stylized fusion of post-punk and electronic pop that brought on new comparisons to stylistics molders of the late ‘70s and early ‘80s like Joy Division and New Order. Keeping in mind that New Order derived from the demise of Joy Division, the current sound of Piano Magic reminds me most of Electronic, an offshoot of New Order that featured the superduo of Bernard Sumner (Joy Division/New Order) and Johnny Marr (The Smiths). The duo took their fans by storm in 1991 when their classic self-titled debut disclosed an infectious mixture of post-punk and electronica, two styles that Piano Magic implement flawlessly into their sound.

In maintaining their ceaselessly prolific output, Piano Magic released a new EP, Dark Horses, in October. With nine full-lengths, a handful of EPs, and a countless number of singles and collaborations under their belts, the new EP simply attests to the continuous stream of quality that the group successfully strives for. It has been a common practice for Piano Magic to recruit new vocalists for a release, as they even helped convince ‘60s folk artist Vashti Bunyan to commence her recent resurgence by supplying her first vocal recording in over 30 years for Piano Magic’s 2002 album, Writers Without Homes. As a result, I must commend Johnson for being consistent in bringing back the angelic vocals of Angele David-Guillou for Dark Horses. The Klima vocalist and solo performer had previously appeared on Piano Magic’s 2005 album, Disaffected, and contributed immensely to the beautifully melodic sound presented. Within the span of two years from Disaffected to 2007’s Part Monster, their ninth full-length, Johnson also released a solo album and the group embarked on a world tour. Somehow though, they still managed the time to write and record the very enjoyable Dark Horses EP.

Limited to 1000 copies, Dark Horses features four tracks that embody the group’s sound in extremely complementary form. “Vacancies” features an infectiously haunting mixture of jangly guitar riffs, subtle synths pads, and a continuous bass line. David-Guillou’s vocal approach here may remind some of Black Box Recorder’s Sarah Nixey, especially when considering that the backing music is rooted in swift arrangements of whispery synths and jangly guitar progressions. “Dark Horses” is noticeably darker with a predominant rhythm section. Johnson’s eerily satisfying vocals are reminiscent of Robert Forster, and The Go-Betweens comparison does not stop simply at the vocal front. This track encompasses a similar touch of dark industrial-rock with near-spoken-word accompaniments that made the legendary Australian group’s sound so memorable. “Stations” also employs an eerily nocturnal feel, once again complemented by a steady mixture of heavily reverbed post-punk guitar lines and a prominent rhythm section. For those getting first acquainted to Piano Magic, I would recommend checking out either Low Birth Weight or Artists’ Rifles. However, to get a grasp on their current sound, Dark Horses is an impressive effort that solidifies the belief that Johnson and co. are one of the most consistent groups that, for some reason, remain criminally overlooked.

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Piano Magic – Vacancies

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Piano Magic – Dark Horses

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Piano Magic – Stations

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Official Web Site

MySpace

BUY

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As I make the transition from a well-traveled group with dozens of releases and several international tours to their name to a four-piece where not even one member is of legal US drinking age, one must keep in mind the developmental process of a band. Piano Magic alternated their lineups before they became stylistically comfortable, leading to a prolific number of quality releases that any musician would respect. When listening to Braids and noticing their prevalent talent, I can’t help but wonder how they will evolve throughout the coming years together, perhaps both stylistically and personally like Piano Magic. To date, the only change they have made pertains to their name (from The Neighbourhood Council to Braids). Listening to their self-released EP, Set Pieces, though, neither their approach nor make-up would benefit from a change at this point. Whether you are referring to 19-year-olds or 49-year-olds, the material presented here is startlingly innovative enough to captivate audiences whether they have prior knowledge of the band’s teenage status or not. When given Braid’s average age, one may have a tendency to make a generalization in regard to their sound. Generic indie-rock perhaps, as an ode to those conventional pop bands that everyone knows and loves? For our sake, it is quite the contrary. Not only are the able to craft 7+ minute experimental-rock epics with ease, but the ideas, songwriting, and high quality of performance are all aspects that truly define what it means for a new act to strive fearlessly for creativity. After opening for acts like Deerhunter and Times New Viking, it seems as if a few of the most prestigious names in indie-rock feel the same.

Just like Piano Magic, Braids are beginning their young careers ambitiously with a style of experimental rock music that demonstrates their unwillingness to conform to a conventionally appealing, radio-friendly atmosphere. Luckily for them, their approach is within the same realm as adored contemporary artists like Animal Collective, Arcade Fire, Atlas Sound, and other staples of indie-rock that have found momentous success through extremely innovative means this past decade. They recorded Set Pieces live at the University of Calgary’s radio station and released it in late June, though fans are just starting to catch on after this month’s release of another EP, Live At CJSW. The opening track on Set Pieces, “Liver and Tan”, is pure 9-minute goodness. A twinkling guitar progression carries the initial strum and a steady rush of percussion eventually increases in complexity and involvement. Light piano chords supplement the onslaught until about a minute in, which is when the piano abruptly replaces the guitar as the leading force. The guitar then reverts to a series of slide patterns, leading the way for each instrumental accompaniment to become involved in equal form.

The major transition point in “Liver and Tan” occurs at 2:15, when a serene break in rhythmic instrumentation commences a three-minute build-up that later introduces several overlapping vocal melodies which brilliantly usher their way in toward the instrumental accompaniment. The vocal delivery sounds like a tribal chant of sorts, and I can’t help but saying that the vocals remind me of what it would sound like if Régine Chassagne (Arcade Fire) attempted to imitate Avey Tare (Animal Collective). There is no real imitation here though for the Calgary natives, as the entirety of Braids’ EP is sprawling with original ideas that lead me to believe that this group is easily one of the most promising out of the already-fledging Montreal music scene. Oh, by the way, check out “Lemonade” on their MySpace. It may be my favorite one yet from this promising four-piece.

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Braids – Liver and Tan

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Braids – She Brave Soul

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Braids – Vendevel

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MySpace

Since they self-release their own material, e-mail the band at theneighbourhoodcouncil@gmail.com if you want a copy of either EP.

The post The Old & New: Piano Magic and Braids appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

Judging by their name and stylistic preference alone, I would have easily guessed that Feu Therese was one of the many up and coming French electronic acts rising to prominence this year. You know the type — I have featured them often before. From the deep electronic minimalism of Mr. Oizo to the irresistible pop sensibilities of the more accessible Dondolo and Yelle, my enthusiasm for the ceaselessly exciting French electronica scene is no secret. In regard to Feu Therese, many will initially ponder this one question: Which component of Feu Therese does not make them French? I mean, their name is in French, they sing in French, and all of their song titles are in French. What more could an amoureux de la musique Française want? Well, actually being from France would help. Instead, the 4 members of Feu Therese hail from Canada. With the vocal and superficial aspects of their music being an embodiment of most things French, I will take a wild guess and say that most of the members in the band come from French backgrounds. I imagine that such cultural diversity is one of the most endearing aspects of the Canadian music scene.

Due to a booming French-Canadian population, bands like Feu Therese can call themselves Canadian natives while still maintaining the ability to deliver a sound that resembles foreign virtuosity; it is this factor that allows quality acts like Feu Therese an opportunity to expand seamlessly upon both domestic and national audiences. Though Feu Therese’s bilingual flair can be primarily attributed to their own personal backgrounds, I consider it highly impressive when a band attempts to achieve success in a language that is not the domineering one within their originative country. While both English and French are the official languages of Canada, the fact that about 68% of Canadians speak only English makes me commend Feu Therese’s ambitious scope. Much of it can be attributed to the talents of frontman Jonathan Parant, a performance artist who is also known as a founding member and guitarist of the Canadian experimental rock group, Fly Pan Am. With over 11 years of experience in hand, Parant has switched his main focus to his other project, Feu Therese. The group is rounded out by bassist Alexandre St-Onge (formerly of The Shalabi Effect), keyboardist and guitarist Stephen De Oliveira, and drummer Luc Paradis. De Oliveira is building a slight reputation as a soundtrack composer for “B-movies” and documentaries, while Paradis is also a painter and illustrator who sells his own art at Feu Therese’s shows. Quite an talented bunch, to say the least.

French aspects aside, the distinguishing factor that sets Feu Therese apart is the form in which the band utilizes their electronical output. While many electronic acts throughout the world usually stray within the typical bounds of dance or pop music, Feu Therese presents a new formula that blends elements of gloomy post-punk with sparkling italo-disco; it is a fresh combination that is approached with enjoyable flexibility. As they displayed on their self-titled debut album in 2006, Feu Therese are never afraid to stretch the line between musical norms and consuming innovation. The debut was an impressive display of Feu Therese’s chops, containing four memorable songs that all exceeded six minutes in length. They were all worth every second too. Their sophomore follow-up, Ça Va Cogner, was released this year and sees the band in more accessible form. Along with the return of their deeply layered and padded melodies, the variety of synths remains more audibly appealing and the vocal use is more abundant. 7 out of the 10 tracks are under 4 minutes too, making Feu Therese’s wholesomely expansive sound play off like an abrupt hook begging for more. As the serene “La nuit est une femme” displays, Feu Therese’s vocal techniques tend to be stranded at points in transition. From a deep voice that mumbles indistinguishable French phrases to a higher-pitched voice that echoes the synthetic melody in its entirety, the use of vocals remains as uncluttered and engaging as the impressive structural backbone of each and every song. With its introductory arpeggio and momentous build-up, “”La nuit est une femme” reminds me somewhat of Kraftwerk’s “The Hall of Mirrors”. It is certainly not a bad thing to be compared to either.

Despite the variety of tracks on Ça Va Cogner bordering on trance and pioneering synth-pop of the early ’80s, the two most impressive ones come back-to-back in successive order, “Le bruit du pollen la nuit” and “Nada”. The first is a dark ride, featuring a variety of guitar-based whirs and moans over an array of glittery synths and persistent percussion. The unconventional vocal delivery remains the most spectacular aspect of the song though. Using a monotonous tone, Paradis initially begins the verse with the coarse mumbling of a French phrase. As a larger arsenal of synths and keys begin to build up, his vocals become less apparent but still remain prominent over a slight mumble that serves only to ignite the excitable chorus that is executed a few moments later. Transitioning into a vocal delivery that moreso resembles the likes of David Bowie, de Oliveira puts forth an interpretable yelp as the backing keys transition from a form of airy minimalism to a more full-fledged form. Wearing shades of post-punk, new wave, and even glam on its sleeve, “Le bruit du pollen la nuit” is one of the best examples of electronica fluidly being incorporated with other genres that are more reliant on droning guitars. “Nada” is simply a fun pop song whose infectious simplicity reminds me of the legendary Yellow Magic Orchestra. No lyrics are spoken, only the bouncy “Ba-ba-ba”s of the lead vocalist over the repetition of fluidly effervescent keyboards and the pulsating synth pads. Though horrendous glam-rock imitators are now being labeled as “’80s revivalists”, it should be bands like Feu Therese who are given that controversial tag. As they mix together post-punk, new wave, and synth-pop with nearly flawless ease, Feu Therese has created a sound that truly brings back the best of a gone decade while simultaneously combining aspects of modern-day electro wizardry.

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Feu Therese – Le bruit du pollen la nuit

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Feu Therese – Nada

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Feu Therese – La nuit est une femme

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Official Web Site

BUY

The post Feu Therese Parlent Ça Va Cogner appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.