Birmingham five-piece The Arcadian Kicks recently released their newest single, “You Play the Girl”. This new offering is a noticeable step towards the mainstream for them, at least compared to the neo-psychedelic organ infusions of past efforts like “I Can’t Sleep”. However, they haven’t lost their roots, still carrying a sound packed with wailing guitars reminiscent of ’80s groups like The Police and power vocals akin to Blondie, combining for a constant flurry of hooks that makes such ’80s comparisons immediate.

Since signing to One Beat Records a few years back, The Arcadian Kicks have not stopped gigging. To compensate for the lack of studio time, the five-piece are vowing plenty of new material to be released over the next year. They’ve already had a few studio sessions with someone who has a very clear vision of their attempted style…

Mike Chapman, who produced for artists such as Blondie and Suzi Quatro, is behind all of this new work and has praised the band publicly. “I can honestly say that making this record was right up there with the best work I’ve done,” he said. “Any time you get to work with kids who have their kind of skills, you are reminded on a daily basis of why you got into this business in the first place.”

They’re also giving away the new track (“You Play The Girl”) for free on their Facebook page. As a bonus for their imminent publicity, the track has been selected to be part of a worldwide compilation album for Gap. Personally I’ll be giving the Zuckerberg-esque Gap hoodie a miss, but I will take the single!

RIYL: Blondie, The Police, Fleetwood Mac, Love Is All, Sonic Youth, The Horrors,  Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Cyndi Lauper, The Pretenders, ABBA, Eurythmics, Kate Bush, Heart

MP3: The Arcadian Kicks – You Play the Girl

MP3: The Arcadian Kicks – I Can’t Sleep

MySpace / BUY

The post The Arcadian Kicks appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

Jake and Jamin Orrall specialize in fuzzy West Coast rock that plays best in a party atmosphere (or on Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2). There is a vintage feel to the brothers’ guitar-and-drums lineup, forcing an emphasis on quality songwriting and stage presence; superfluous bells and whistles are not present to mask the occasional misstep. Fortunately for the Orral’s, their new album We Are the Champions has nothing to hide. It is a wonderfully refreshing throwback to early ‘90s power-pop and garage-rock. Their style possesses the same power-pop/surf-rock blend of Weezer up front, but often with a more aggressive take on variants of punk and noise-rock that bring influences like Sonic Youth, Jay Reatard, and Pavement into play. The most ambitious the duo get with production is via a guitar pedal or keyboard addition, which is a type of forgotten minimalism that aligns beautifully with their powerful songwriting and ready knack for hooks.

The brothers formed their project, Jeff the Brotherhood, when Jamin was in middle school and Jake was a sophomore in high school. They financed their first CD-R off early band profits, gathering enough money back home in Tennessee from $5-per-bootleg efforts to fund the effort. The boys’ father saw potential and brought some of his business savvy to the table at that point, though one can wonder how he felt when both his sons dropped out of college to pursue music full-time. Based on their recent hype and album (which is their best), he is probably more proud than pissed. After all, they play hundreds of shows per year and have aspirations of touring Japan, so it’s not like they’re slacking off. Jeff the Brotherhood are simply the epitome of quality DIY rock, representative of those whose genuine passion for music helps fuel an anti-label, do-it-yourself attitude. There are so many acts that slap on the DIY tag, yet embrace the first chance of corporate sponsorship that comes that way. It would be nice if more acts like Jeff the Brotherhood existed; they just want to get their music heard, and seem to care less about “the man”.

Sibling rivalries are unavoidable when on the road (which is why the duo always bring a mediator on tour), but there is certainly no doubting their chemistry when in the studio. “Endless Fire” is a gorgeous semi-ballad that would have fit seamlessly on Weezer’s classic Pinkerton. It is a frail and gentle effort compared to other tracks on the frenetic We Are the Champions, but its placement smack-dab in the middle of it provides a seamless breather between the post-rock intricacies of “Diamond Way” and bluesy guitar howls of “Ripper”. “Is it too late to think it isn’t over?” both brothers croon on “Endless Fire”, one reminiscent of a nasally Rivers Cuomo and the other higher in pitch – almost like a Steve Bays or Brad Nowell. The outro enveloping the final minute places a scraggly guitar solo over an airy organ, both of which fade out in a distorted whimper. It is one of the album’s most melodic efforts, even if the initial verse is too short. Conciseness is clearly something Jeff the Brotherhood value though, as not one song on We Are the Champions overstays its welcome.

Two standouts in particular, “Cool Out” and “Bummer”, are bound to give the duo some heavy notice. The latter brings back the Weezer feel, but now more aligned with the fuzzy punk influences of their debuting Blue album. “I can’t see through this dream,” is the line marking a chorus with an incredible build-up, with distorted guitar tremolos and increasingly furious percussion. “Cool Out” is just as great (especially the breathtaking final minute), albeit more in line with lo-fi revivalists like Wavves. Even better, “Shredder” is a no-frills take on old-school DIY punk that imaginatively adds a droning chiptune-like synth, while “Health and Strength” is a fascinating semi-acoustic effort with sitar and string samples that make it inarguably the most psychedelic-leaning effort on We Are the Champions. There are even some Celtic folk progressions hidden below the acoustic flaps, almost giving it a “The Battle of Evermore” sort of feel. It is a definite success, just like many of the efforts on We Are the Champions. This is the album that should put these talented brothers on the map.

RIYL: Weezer, Jay Reatard, Sonic Youth, Pavement, Sublime, Wavves, Ex-Models, Hagfish, Screaming Females, Turbo Fruits, Cheap Time, Jacuzzi Boys

Jeff the Brotherhood – Endless Fire

Jeff the Brotherhood – Health and Strength

Jeff the Brotherhood – Cool Out

Blog / MySpace / BUY

The post Jeff the Brotherhood appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

The ‘Omaha Sound’ is a term used, now somewhat loosely, for bands based in or around Nebraska’s largest city. The term first came to my attention when I featured Old Canes a few years back. Omaha’s most prominent label, Saddle Creek, was undergoing an interesting period at the time, going somewhat against the label’s stylistic conventions when Conor Oberst formed it in 1993. The stylistic diversity was nothing new to the label’s longtime fans, who remembered acts as diverse as The Faint (aka Norman Bailer) joining the folk-heavy Saddle Creek in the mid-‘90s. But toward the end of the ‘00s, commercially successful acts in the indie-rock vein like Tokyo Police Club and Land of Talk began to make the label’s diversity more noticeable to the mainstream. For once in the label’s history, artists without the signature ‘Omaha Sound’ (indie-folk, sometimes with a country twang) were more prominent than those with it. Bright Eyes and Cursive were relatively quiet, and the newly signed artists more reflective of the label’s neo-folk origins – like Old Canes, Two Gallants, and Orenda Fink – were all sufficiently good, but lacked the commercial appeal of the more trend-leaning Tokyo Police Club and Land of Talk.

Old-fashioned diehards would probably look upon this recent trend as a blemish on an excellently niche-geared foundation, but many fans and industry analysts look at it differently; they tend to see it as an example of Saddle Creek’s business savvy, not their self-sacrificial desperation. Saddle Creek have maintained the elements of folk that gave them a cult following in the first place, all while letting in “outsiders” (in a sense) who are pursuing different styles. Just because one band plays electro-tinged indie-rock and another specializes in traditional folk does not mean it is impossible for the artists and their fans to overlap in some capacity. While it is true that many of Saddle Creek’s folk-leaning acts are Nebraskans and most of their indie-rock output comes from Canada, Saddle Creek’s enduring success continues because their audience remains unchanged; they remain the sort of avid music-seekers who would wait outside record stores in the pouring rain for the latest release, if need be. So even if they prefer one style to another, they trust enough in Saddle Creek’s notorious word-of-mouth appeal to at least give an artist a shot. Their biggest successes lately have went against the label’s norms and past, giving even more reason to shed the stylistic elitism when dealing with a label one associates with familiarity and trust. Nostalgia also helps.

Saddle Creek have expanded in the above aspects, and have done so without sacrificing the precious locality and small-knit feel that makes everything on their label – from Bright Eyes’ idiosyncratic folk to Tokyo Police Club’s modernized garage-rock – appeal to a similar cluster of fans. No recent act on their label represents this more than Noah’s Ark Was a Spaceship. Friends Andrew Gustafson, John Svatos, and Ricky Black formed the project in 2004, finally settling on a drummer (Rob Webster) in 2007. Judging by their age and sound, it is easy to tell what music these guys grew up on. Bands like Pavement, Sebadoh, and Sonic Youth are likely to be mentioned in a bulk of their reviews, mainly because Noah’s Ark resemble wholesome authenticity and nostalgia without sounding the slightest outdated. That sounds somewhat trite, but it’s true. The most distinctively modern aspect of their sound is the flourishes of art-rock that cohesively align with the traditional alt-rock formula they build their music around. Sure, their allegiances lie most with the best of late ‘80s and early ‘90s alt-rock, but such an astute grasp on power-pop and punk also makes names like Teenage Fanclub, The Replacements, and Big Star relevant.

NAWAS’ debut LP, Hanga-Fang, is one of the most exciting of the year thus far. The ferocious chorus of “Opener” emerges with just about a minute remaining, recalling both the crunchy guitar tones of Gish-era Smashing Pumpkins and the angular work of Slint. It sits somewhere between alt-rock amateur goodness and the borders of ambitious prog-rock, the latter indebted to NAWAS’ extreme use of variation. The lovably weird “I Need a Nap” is reminiscent of Slint’s murkiest work. Screeching guitars and a placidly shifting fuzz-bass concoct feelings of ominous intent, especially as the percussion drags along and abruptly shifts from nonchalant half-hits to unbridled angst. Preceding it, “Sweet and Sour Day” is a perfect example of the group’s ingenious structural tendencies. Its grungy beginnings stretch for several minutes, slowly enveloping into a more laid-back approach where feedback and bass tremolo join forces to complement a more psychedelic vocal delivery. The track almost resembles a frenzied drug trip, where moments of chaos slowly develop into scenes of spaced-out bliss before descending again into the hectically disordered come-down.

More conventional efforts like “Big Mouth”, “Wrecking Ball Girl”, and “I’m Not a Father” will be adored by fetishists of late ‘80s and early ‘90s college radio. The latter is perhaps the most accessible track on Hanga-Fang, where the vocals admit “I know I’m not well” over crisply sonorous guitar chords. The lack of distortion and heavy emphasis on rhythm bring to mind more melodic alt-rock acts like The Pixies, who are noted for having played with both ends of the alt-rock spectrum. From blistering anthems of distortion to harmonically sugar-coated gems, they are one of few bands from NAWAS’ favorite era whose durability is unquestioned. Noah’s Ark Was a Spaceship have a collage of influences that enable them to pursue a similar goal. They capture the essence of a recognizable period in music without diluting its nostalgia and influence.

Bands like The Pixies and Smashing Pumpkins encouraged artistic growth while proudly wearing influences on their sleeves, and it is an ideology like this that makes Hanga-Fang so strong. There are always flashes of a certain band’s influence, but by the end of a track listeners of Hanga-Fang will have no difficulty respecting the originality of the band’s songwriting. As a track like “Wrecking Ball Girl” evolves from creakily acoustic minimalism to ardent displays of distorted awe, fans of bands like Pavement and Sebadoh in their heydays are embraced with the best form of nostalgia: one that borrows the best aspects from the past without incorporating the staleness of methods beaten tirelessly to death by over-use. Noah’s Ark Was a Spaceship sound remarkably like a breath of fresh air considering their tributary influences, and because of that Hanga-Fang is a consistently strong release with just the right dose of modern experimentation and past recollection.

RIYL: Pavement, Sebadoh, The Pixies, The Smashing Pumpkins, Nirvana, Big Star, The Replacements, The Lemonheads, Sonic Youth, Teenage Fanclub

Noah’s Ark Was a Spaceship – I’m Not a Father

Noah’s Ark Was a Spaceship – Big Mouth

Noah’s Ark was a Spaceship – Warm Eyes

Saddle Creek / Slumber Party Records / MySpace / BUY

The post Noah’s Ark Was a Spaceship appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

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

Tumblr / MySpace / BUY

The post Beware the Woodsman appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

I have heard several people complain about this phenomenon of “lo-fi” artists. Why hide songwriting under layers of incoherence, they usually ask, if the songwriting is allegedly good? Being one of the more popular lo-fi examples, Ariel Pink is one of the first examples they use. I then usually ask if them if they have ever heard The Doldrums, his debut full-length. I tell them to name a song on there that would sound “better” if reverted to the studio quality of – say – his most recent album, Before Today. The thing is, Ariel Pink’s style of songwriting at that period – arguably his bleakest and most creative – went hand-in-hand with such an approach, one that gushed with the melancholy and late-night feel of the album with greater authenticity than most artists around. Sure, a more fleshed-out version of any of these songs would still showcase his strengths as a songwriter for any skeptic, but beyond that there is a certain atmosphere embedded in songs written for a more lo-fi method that accommodates the sound beautifully.

Some see it as extraneous novelty when an artist beatboxes his percussion tracks, or when hissing sounds from their mouth serve as prevalent effects. I am not one to buy into novelty effects to disguise poor songwriting either, but if one creates a successful song that would actually benefit from such bizarrely appropriate methods then I do not see the issue. To imagine the muddy desperation of Ariel Pink’s “For Kate I Wait” under the control of an expert percussionist would just not have the same allure to me as the original songwriter finding any method possible to emit his percussion of choice, especially when that original creator did not have the means presently available to him to do otherwise. Call it part of the story and nothing else if you must, but if that overall result produces something that is clearly coherent enough to identify the artist’s intent then complaints are somewhat futile.

Even to the critics of such labels, the recording style of Australian-based Blank Realm is lo-fi in a rewarding sense. Their methods do not stray too far from what you would expect from financially strapped start-ups. Well, their heavy use of the four-track is somewhat rare in an era dominated by high-tech studio programs, but Blank Realm are no stranger to Pro Tools as well; they will use it if the track calls for it. This is somewhat irrelevant overall though; the recording device at hand is hard to spot because of their muddy sound, which is heavily distorted and sometimes vague but never in excess or over-indulgence. In “Trained Creep”, for instance, there are many different progressions occurring simultaneously, with not one of them demanding more clarity than what is already present. Everything is highly coherent, especially in this awesomely unsettling epic. The varying and indistinguishable methods of recording throughout their second album, Deja What?, enforce my earlier point that distinguishable intent is most essential.

“Trained Creep” is an instrumental effort that shows off the band’s strengths extraordinarily. A distorted effect from the guitar is constant, but there are stabs of icy synths that align with the pit-pattering percussion. The emergence of hazy hi-hats about a minute in is abruptly signaled by the increased presence of the synth, which is presented as a rapid tremolo as the multiple guitar progressions create a swirling effect reminiscent of both post-punk and psychedelia – The Flaming Lips are not too far off, especially their recent Embryonic material. The whole track sounds like one big anxious build-up, which is very exhilarating considering the swelling progressions combine for some wonderful noise that anyone – from psych-rock acts or noise-punk experimentalists – would be proud of.

“Full Moon Door” sounds like it features some of that mouth-beatboxing generally associated with artists like Ariel Pink, who incorporated it with the somber wistfulness of The Doldrums for a very memorable effect. Blank Realm incorporate it with more energy and optimism; the percussion use seems like a fusion of beatboxing and a reverbed hi-hat, but I can’t be certain. Either way, you have to like what they are doing here. A droning organ nearly hides itself in the background over the percussion and its lively progressions subtly serve as the backbone of the track. It is one of several highlights on Deja What?, which is a very impressive sophomore accomplishment for Blank Realm.

RIYL: The Flaming Lips, Sonic Youth, !!!, Beach House, Mercury Rev, The Delgados, Six by Seven, Galaxie 500, Luna, Mojave 3, Yo La Tengo, Sebadoh

Blank Realm – Full Moon Door

Blank Realm – Trained Creep

MySpace / BUY

The post Enter the Blank Realm appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

Christopher Owens reached indie-rock gold by the end of last year. After steadily putting out a handful of singles throughout the year – “Hellhole Ratrace” in July and “Lust for Life” in September – he released Girls’ debut full-length, Album, to nonstop acclaim. A year-end list felt invalid without Girls’ laudable effort reaching the top twenty (I had it #18 on mine). So it only makes sense that a follow-up of any kind would be widely anticipated.

Girls’ new six-song EP, Broken Dreams Club, was recorded in San Francisco, but judging by the opening “Thee Oh So Protective One”, you would think it was made in a tropical paradise made out of palm trees instead. The soulfully tropical feel is defined by a mariachi-like fervor, with a verse of heavily melodic guitar flutters evolving to a marching procession of horns. Owens’ voice gets more perky here, and already it becomes prevalent that Girls have retained their most enjoyable aspects (hooks and no-shrills pop-rock) with some stylistic expansiveness. The sound on Broken Dreams Club is more massive and flexible than on Album. This is probably best demonstrated by “Substance” and “Alright”, the latter actually implementing some free-jazz into thunderous alt-rock riffs. Radiohead comparisons are not too far off here. This is easily the most ambitious track on the release, as the instrumentation dominates any vocal cues. It even begins to resemble post-rock toward the end, and judging by these excellent closing moments I would love to see Owens pursue more of the style.

“Substance” is also pretty interesting – and pretty. As Owens sells a mystery substance that can cure all mental and physical deficiencies, the initial youthfulness makes a stern transition into a bleak plea for societal integration. “Who wants something real, when you can have nothing,” he sings over a delicate ‘60s-inspired riff, not ascending above a somber whisper. It is a successful effort for sure, laudably not getting too caught up in the melancholic mood to ignore Girls’ catchy pop-driven hooks as well. The reverbed guitar strum is one, along with the guitar lead that begins right before the three-minute mark.

“Heartbreaker” and “Broken Dreams Club” are both on the more conventional side, the latter perhaps too much so with its languid pacing. “Heartbreaker”, though, is fantastic and easily competes with any track on Album. In its gleeful progressions flying high over somber lyrics, Owens begins to resemble Felt’s Lawrence in more ways than one. He packs a nasally snarl during the verse, complemented by acoustic strums that align with his heightening range. The chorus introduces a gorgeous set of keys that twinkle alongside Owens’ plying “why”s, many of which add an alt-country feel expanded more upon in the subsequent “Broken Dreams Club”.

The closing track, “Carolina”, again brings up some surprising comparisons – Radiohead, Wilco, Sonic Youth, and Dennis Wilson. Owens’ voice has sporadically resembled the late Beach Boy before, and the comparison to Wilson – who wrote two phenomenal albums – emerges most triumphantly during the song’s final minutes, where Owens’ “doo-wob wob wob – doo-wob wob wob” harmonizes beautifully with his enthusiastic yelps proclaiming “Carolina, caroooliina!”. He sings this after a build-up that blends both post-rock and alternative. After the abrupt guitar halts and anthemic vocals in the following bridge, the vocal harmonizing feels like a calming after a storm. This is one release where the only issue is length; understandably it is generous for an EP at 35 minutes, but several of these tracks are so gorgeous that my desire for a new Girls EP has increased even more, which I didn’t think was possible at this point.

9.0/10.0

RIYL: The Beach Boys, Dennis Wilson, Sonic Youth, Wilco, Bob Dylan, Jonathan Richman, Best Coast, Wavves, Surfer Blood, Real Estate, Beach House

Girls – Thee Oh So Protective One

Girls – Alright

MySpace / BUY

The post Girls – Broken Dreams Club (2010) appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

I have no complaints about post-punk fetishism. If an artist justifies their attempts to replicate the dark, grumbling moodiness of bands like The Chameleons UK or Joy Division, then listeners are generally treated to polished songwriting that parallels styles arising from primitive psychedelic-rock. Post-punk, shoegaze, and indie-rock show frequent tributes to early forms of psychedelic-rock – like that of 13th Floor Elevators, The Beatles, and The Byrds – and often serve as a gateway for older listeners struggling to identify with modern indie-rock sensations in the vein of Phoenix or Vampire Weekend. Recent notables – like the post-punk of Twin Shadow, Tamaryn’s shoegaze, and Beach House’s mixture of both – find success among young and older listeners alike because their music offers some classic familiarities while staying faithful to the “indie-rock” tag that permits contemporary production techniques. An all-girl rock group from LA by the name of Warpaint looks to be joining that venerable list with their outstanding new album, The Fool.

The ethereal guitar tone fuzzy bass in the gripping “Undertow” resembles the spacey guitar work of artists like The Smashing Pumpkins or The Cure, particularly on respective albums like Siamese Dream or The Head on the Door. The increase in hi-hats around the 02:30 mark signals a snazzy twist, with the lethargic pacing of moody guitars transitioning to a quicker flurry of angular guitar chords. “Runnin’, runnin’, runnin’,” Emily Kokal repeats, “from the troubles.” The howl that complements the plea here is pretty spine-tingling, as is the percussively involved conclusion. Tracks like this and the fluttering arpeggio-led “Warpaint” remind me distinctively of Deerhunter, who produce an unrivaled blend of indie-rock and post-punk that does not confine itself to the stereotypes of either. Comparisons to Fleetwood Mac are not far off either.

The ambition of Deerhunter and Warpaint fit as well in alt-rock as they do in shoegaze or post-punk, and that is simply because both have an infinite grasp of psychedelic-rock concepts. The intricate layering of guitars, stop-start percussion patterns, and flashes of synth allow infectious hybrids to be bred that remain indebted to quality songwriting. The quality is enough to allow the existence of a subtle vocalist, who employs mood and pacing over ferocity and flexible pitch. It seems natural in a style like this, where the tonal resonation that houses the songwriting in question reigns supreme. This is one the main drawing points of The Fool, which certainly has something for everyone from the lush balladry of “Baby” to intricate rock efforts like the exceptional “Bees”.

“Bees” is an immediate standout on the album for its interesting percussion, which sets itself apart from the other efforts by opting for rhythm that sounds more sample-based than the organic presence of other efforts. This serves as a decoy though, and we see why during the chorus when a grumbling bass erupts over new drums that are more aligned with post-punk expectations, in being simplistic but aptly concise. A middle-eastern melodic theme is somewhat consistent throughout as well. The high-pitched guitar lick at the tail-end of each verse is reminiscent of the jangly guitar work of Sonic Youth and Yo La Tengo, two more influences that are clearly at play throughout The Fool. It is hard not to love the transition from high-pitched plucks to lower ones as the bass line becomes more boisterous over an eerie set of “dah-dah-dah”s from the variety of talented vocalists in Warpaint. There is alteration between Emily Kokal and Theresa Wayman on the vocal front, but it hardly matters on who it is since both show mastery and similar tonal recognition.

“Shadows”, one of Wayman’s vocal offerings, works with a phased acoustic guitar to usher in a ghostly serene form of indie-folk. A little trickle of piano signals the bass-led tremolo and drum-line percussion as Wayman’s vocals soar with vigor familiar to fans of Hope Sandoval. “The things you once told me, the thoughts you once gave me,” jump-starts an excellent chorus featuring grainy piano chords and subsequent percussion that shows outstanding pace as usual. Wayman’s hollers and yelps that conclude the latter part of this track is also notable, as is the balmy bridge that leads to a chaotically brilliant final 45 seconds.

Moments like this comprise the bulk of The Fool, which will certainly be one of the most talked-about albums of the year by its end. There is little stylistic innovation here, but the sheer charisma and innovation of the band is extremely present. Simply put, their songwriting is a homage to post-punk and shoegaze without containing stylistically superfluous aspects that artistic admirers of these genres often fall victim to. There is absolutely no filler to speak of on The Fool, which is as sharp as any rock album of 2010. It is an album that is going to get absolutely gushing reviews once it reaches a broader audience. A free preview of The Fool on Hype Machine this week will not hurt those chances at all. Check it out below:

RIYL: Deerhunter, The Cure, Smashing Pumpkins, Fleetwood Mac, Sonic Youth, Yo La Tengo, Sleater-Kinney, Twin Sister, Best Coast, Dum Dum Girls, Tamaryn, Beach House, Twin Shadow, Glasser, Blackbird Blackbird, Marissa Nadler, Beach Fossils, Zola Jesus 13th Floor Elevators, The Beatles, The Byrds

Warpaint – Bees

Warpaint – Undertow

Warpaint – Shadows

Official Site

MySpace

BUY

The post Warpaint for The Fool appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.

There is something very likable about Slothbear, even in addition to their name. Their sound recalls the best parts of vintage college-rock, which is presented with clarity through the band’s surprisingly adept methods of self-production. The feel of restraint that is often associated with home recordings is absent on Slothbear’s debut EP Qids, and instead a feeling of spontaneity is present that in every way recalls something nostalgic for the 20-something crowd. The band’s four members, who are just that, are four good friends based out of Long Island. Their demeanor at this point is wonderfully playful and in no way indicative of a band with unharnessed ambition, joking that “they hope to get a 9.2 on Pitchfork” for the reason of not having to go back to Stony Brook University in the fall. This is humorous enough and probably said tongue-in-cheek, but it is also a rather apt depiction of the general thought process for college-aged bands on the heels of a debut they were very dedicated to. In the case of a release like Qids, where the band’s ferocity and prevalent melodic abilities are on display, one could easily see why they would rather pursue a musical career for the time being instead of sitting in lecture halls. Unlike many other groups in their vein, they actually have a legitimate case for the pursuit.

Formed in 2008, Slothbear are still growing into their own skin after steadily improving the past two years. Early recordings, from what I heard, were typical of a new band attempting to uncover the strengths and cloak their weaknesses. The growth exhibited on Qids makes me very excited for the band’s future, which seems somewhat stabilized by a mixture of creative and technical minds. Qids was produced by one of the band’s members, Doug Bleek, who is graduating from NYU with a degree in recorded music this spring. He took care of the engineering and mixing, while Craig Heed, Josh Ginsberg, and Ian Miniero refined the group’s sound over the period of a year-and-a-half. In that time, sharing the stage with bands like Real Estate and earning the approvals of Mike Watt and Craig Finn were a few of their accolades. They even almost got their song featured in MLB 2k10, and their exclusion is somewhat surprising since many of Slothbear’s tracks are better than anything on that game’s soundtrack. Nonetheless, the consideration of a band without an official release for a major video game is representative of the general perception Slothbear provide, which is that of hefty potential being steadily fulfilled through a sound that satisfies, plain and simple, without any smoke and mirrors.

“White Christmas” in no way recalls the serene snowfalls of winter, instead offering an infectious take on holiday-themed mishaps that finds guitar licks oozing with spontaneity and vocal performances abundant with energy. Their youthful energy is predictably one of Slothbear’s biggest allures, but it is their ability to manage their songwriting within this inexperienced ideology that impresses me most. “Slash the polar bear, make off with the reindeer,” states a chorus complemented by the dynamically collaborative vocals of Heed and Ginsberg. “Yank the cord, emasculate. There will be no white Christmas.” The hooks throughout the album are heavily prevalent in this manner, with playful verses extending into ignitions of dual-vocals, insertions of additional guitar progressions, and imminent percussive intensity. The songs make do entirely with guitars, bass, and drums, which along with this compatibly vintage style of songwriting is bound to bring up comparisons to Guided by Voices, Television, and Sebadoh.

The vocals on Qids are unconventionally melodic and somewhat similar to Tom Verlaine or Isaac Brock in their delivery. They show no hesitation to flaunt an abrupt snarl or impulsive spoken-word segment, which under any other style of instrumentation may have faltered. The influences here are so immediate though that it comes across as cohesive thanks to prior recognition, though tracks like “Don’t Taunt a Tiger” blends a few of these together to create something special. When the “away-ay-yay-ay-yay” kicks into the chorus, the song resembles slick power-pop in the vein of (old-school) Weezer. The chorus on the other hand, with its repetition being guided by a bridge of intensifying percussion, sounds a bit like lo-fi electric folk in the vein of Dan Bejar (at least when they comment on Tatiana’s martyr status). Qids finds several other favorable cuts as well, like “Spacey”. This is an interesting stream-of-conscious spur over glistening guitar progressions that excel in their arpeggio format, somewhat avant-garde for Slothbear but still lovably accessible like the rest of their efforts. Songs like “White Christmas” show a lot of this in a nostalgic sense, while others like “Don’t Taunt a Tiger” is representative of creative fusion at work. Both are just as enjoyable, and Slothbear certainly have a bright future in furthering their creativity while retaining a sound that is already familiarly enjoyable.

Download the album in its entirety for free here.

RIYL: Guided by Voices, Television, Times New Viking, Sonic Youth, Apples in Stereo, Psychedelic Horseshit, Sebadoh, Charalambides, Weezer, Real Estate

——————————————————————————————

Slothbear – Don’t Taunt a Tiger

——————————————————————————————

Slothbear – White Christmas

——————————————————————————————

Slothbear – PA Kids

——————————————————————————————

Official Blog

MySpace

DOWNLOAD>>>

The post Slothbear Had Qids appeared first on Obscure Sound: Indie Music Blog.