Review: Various Artists, Twilight: Eclipse Official Soundtrack

Various Artists
Twilight: Eclipse (Original Soundtrack)
B (Twilight: Eclipse, as a movie: F--)

I don't know where to begin on why I hate Twilight so, so much. There's just too much to hate. But then again, this is not a literary blog, or a vampire blog, or a Teen Korner blog, this is a blog about music. And the Twilight: Eclipse Official Soundtrack makes me forgive Twilight a tiny, almost insignificant bit for making the world so much worse. The Twilight movie saga has set a strange reputation for itself by roping in more and more (previously?) respectable indie bands to create and collaborate on original tracks for the movie soundtracks--a moneymaking scheme, no doubt, but one I finally agree with.

As this is the easiest way to go about a "Various Artists" album, I'll run through the best and worst tracks artist-by-artist. Metric's track "Eclipse - All Yours" is decent at best--there's no denying Emily Haines is a golden god no matter what she attempts, but the song just falls flat. As an aside, who is Sia? Did I miss something? What is that name? Wasn't there that one song everybody put on their angsty mixtapes for a while? Anyway, "My Love" is utter twee, but movies need those moments just like we do (unless we're robots). I'd never heard Cee-Lo on his own before (which isn't a surprise, if you look at his utterly impressive list of collaborations), but "What Part of Forever" made me curious for more.


As for the real highlights--the Black Keys track "Chop and Change" is gritty, gritty gold with epic movie potential (does the beginning remind anyone else of Inception?). Good work on two great tracks from Bombay Bicycle Club ("How Can You Swallow So Much") and Battles ("The Line"), Twilight producers, you've truly upped your ante with some indie heft. There's a Beck* and Bat for Lashes collaboration--a track I at first thought might turn out like Converse's first and second round of summer jams (read: really, really high expectations thanks to a dream team collab coupled with a really, really mediocre turnout). "Let's Get Lost" actually turned out great, to be honest--the two utterly different respective vocal styles melded together perfectly.

Finally--as per usual, I've saved the best for last, only because everything else pales in comparison to Florence + the Machine's "Heavy in Your Arms." I've said it before, but I'll say it again, I get depth overcharge when it comes to this band. "Heavy in Your Arms" is thundering, epic, utterly mind-blowing--and oh, the funniest, cruelest joke, it's not actually in the movie--it's not even the first song as the credits roll, to add insult to injury, it's the second. Which is, I suppose, in a roundabout way best, because if the scene this song was slated for was not the most epic, rousing battle scene in the movie, then it's probably best it was cut altogether. Because, in the end, the whole movie (Kristen Stewart-the-Worst included) should have been cut as a scene, leaving only this decent soundtrack behind it.

Up next for the Twilight movie soundtracks? One mega-collaboration track with every artist on the album contributing to the same song--a la "We Are The World."

*Hang on, I just realized that Beck's Top 8 Myspace Friends are all Greek Philosophers? Points? So many points!

--Fiona Hanly

Review: Gayngs, Relayted

Gayngs Relayted
A (or 2/2 Unnecessary Silent Vowels)

Before we begin, I have two tasks--first of all, please proceed to Gayngs' Wikipedia page. Read the first few paragraphs. Now, I dare you not to immediately like this band, based just on those few bits of information. There are so many things to like! 23 musicians (including Justin Vernon (SWOON) and a rapper (classic combination of things?)), check; the entire band dressed as "prom" for their first show, check; the Onion liked it and we're suddenly taking the Onion seriously (?), check; they not only did a cover song but a cover video (something Take Cover could look into!), check. Check!

Now that we've got a predisposed bias in favor of the band, we're ready to face the music. To make things easy, Gayngs takes everything about Justin Vernon that could have made you fall asleep and turns the beat up a few notches and back a few decades--from "smooth and sonorous" to "big, harmonic 80's boogie." The album is huge, and lovely, the kind of album that fills a listener up with sound and warmth. This sounds trite, but I'm not kidding, the album is, metaphorically speaking, the Grand Canyon in an elephant's ribcage.

The 23 band members surprisingly don't end up tripping over each other--but their respective influences do shine through in bits and pieces from song to song. "The Walker"--who knew gunshots could, well, fit into a soft rock piece without making me fall out of my office chair? Hats off to Rhymesayers' influence. "Spanish Platinum" is kind of Twin Sister-esque spacey, no doubt Solid Gold's influence. I couldn't even hate "No Sweat" despite the presence of a saxophone (and I have a vendetta against saxophones and 80's music in general). I could go on, but I'll end it here by saying the best thing about the album is that there's something to like about every song, and that there's no telling which one will be my favorite on any given day. My favorite game recently has been playing a "Where's Waldo" of sorts with the list of musicians--can you find the Andrew Bird contributor's influence shine through in any of the tracks? Anyone? Please, keep the surprises coming, Gayngs.

Review: 180° South: Conquerers of the Useless Soundtrack

180° South: Conquerers of the Useless Soundtrack
Various Artists
B

180° South: Conquerers of the Useless--just another regular movie about another bunch of regular guys, right? Not really. And it's not a soundtrack put together by a regular bunch of guys, either, but we'll get to that. To sum up, the plot of the movie consists of "adventurer*" Jeff Johnson deciding to venture off toPatagonia and retrace the steps of Yvon Chouinard and Doug Tompkins, two regular guys who went to Patagonia in 1968, who had their lives "changed," and decided to put this "last wild place on earth" under protection. You'll have to take my word on this one, because I, too, have only seen the trailer, but I have the feeling Johnson's story will probably include beautiful nature shots, overcoming massive setbacks and finding his destiny along the 10,000 mile journey.

So what about the soundtrack, the one that you didn't get to listen to in the trailer because somebody decided to play Animal Collective instead? There's a little bit of Jack Johnson, a little bit of James Mercer, topped off by a whole lot of Ugly Casanova. Here's everything you'll need to know about Ugly Casanova, ever. In my professional opinion, that's a great backstory to a band if I've ever heard one. It is, however, unnecessary to read that the band is essentially Modest Mouse, because listening to just one song on this soundtrack will give that away--especially if it's not an instrumental and you can actually hear Isaac Brock's lisp. The Ugly Casanova tracks on the album sound like back-to-basics, performing-in-your-back-yard Modest Mouse, stripped down and a lot of twang. Jack Johnson has always been performingshirtless in your backyard (in Hawaii), with a lot of twang. James Mercer is harder to place--member of the Shins, and lately Broken Bells, what is he doing on this soundtrack? Let's take the fact that he was born in Hawaii as well--shirtless twang is, then, in his blood, as is protecting beautiful places, adventures, probably surfing, and definitely making soundtracks for movies about adventurers.

Essentially, these artists have written songs that will complement the film perfectly. Even listening to the soundtrack only once, it's easy to imagine where each of the stripped-down, restrained indie-rock tracks is going to fit into this movie--an adventure movie with a strong underlying environmental message. Take "Maybe We're Lost"--here's where the big plot setback will happen. It'll get really cold, and Jeff Johnson is going to lose a toe to frostbite, or his tent is going to blow away in the wind, or he'll be pummeled within an inch of his life by a monster wave. There's going to be a sweeping panorama shot that shows how small he really is, Man vs. Wilderness, while some muted guitar chords play and Isaac Brock mutters something existential into the microphone. Or take "Here's to Now"--here's how the movie will end, on a song that's probably about living in the moment (though I'm not quite sure), and in a broader sense about appreciating the things you can have in said moment, and trying to preserve them for the future. Man has the power todestroy, man has the power to save. After the thoroughly enjoyable yet predictable (don't these movies always end the same?) two hour ad made by Patagonia in support of environmental protection (and their clothing), we'll fade to black with a sense of urgency, impeding doom, and a modicum of hope.

"Man is alright, you can't beat him" --William Faulkner**

Highlight Tracks: "Here's to Now," "Maybe We're Lost"
When to Listen to the Album: While Napping on the Beach

-- Fiona Hanly

*first off, what kind of a career is "adventurer?!" and where can I sign up to be one??
**it must be something in the water, but Faulkner has been an inspiration to WGTB DJ's of late

Synesthesia: Eat, Pray, Love Trailer

Eat, Pray, Love

I don't know how anyone could have missed Elizabeth Gilbert's memoir Eat Pray Love when it came out in 2006––literally every single person (female) I knew on Earth had read it by the end of summer 2007, myself included, and half of those people again had made vows to attempt a similar experiment--to throwing the shackles off! A quick summary of the memoir's plot: "[Eat, Pray, Love] chronicles [Gilbert's] trip around the world after her divorce and what she discovered during her travels." Let me jump in and give away the ending: she discovers herself, and how to be happy. Classic plot twist! It took the movie industry exactly three seconds to capitalize on the book's unprecedented success and make a movie adaptation.

Synesthesia #1: Charlie St. Cloud (New Column!)

Welcome to the first installment of SYNESTHESIA, in which DJ Fiona Hanly does a close-read of upcoming movie trailers, evaluating them based on (what else?) but the soundtrack. Better make those two minutes count, people who make movie trailers!

"Charlie St. Cloud" Trailer

Here's a look at the music used in the Charlie St. Cloud trailer, which is otherwise rubbish as it is compiled of scenes cut from a rubbish film.There are so many reasons that this will be the worst movie of all time, and this is only a two-and-a-half minute preview of them. Boo, Charlie St. Cloud!

First up, we have Electric Owls with "Magic Show." For anyone who missed it, this song was on Urban Outfitters compilation LSTN#3. It's lighthearted and poppy and acoustic guitars and xylophones and fun, appropriate for the thirty seconds in the movie in which we, the audience, will think Zac Efron's life is rife with sailing, baseball, and really intense blue eyes.

Plot twist! Car crash! (Everyone was surprised). Cue one of my personal favorite songs of all time, The National's "So Far Around the Bend." Apparently Zac Efron's startlingly blue-eyed character heads down the rabbit hole after the death of his equally blue-eyed baby brother. The National's song is perfect for the plot turn. I hate to say it, but "nobody knows where you are livin' / nobody knows where you are / you're so far around the bend" are perfect lyrics to describe this vein of character development. Nobody knows what Ol' Sky Eyes is going through, nobody. Nobody knows where to find his beautiful, albeit lost soul.

Except the girl! (Everyone was surprised, again). And now we cue Snow Patrol's mediocre "Run." I hate Snow Patrol, and as a side effect of this bias I suddenly become disinterested in the trailer. From what I can remember while not paying attention: Zac Efron falls in love, something else about the girl sailing around the world and getting lost, Zac Efron dives into the ocean, Zac Efron is ridiculous and not to be taken seriously. Barf end to a decent trailer audio-wise about a terrible movie nobody will like because it will be The Worst.

Final Evaluation: 2/3. Well done, movie industry. But your clever use of a mainly obscure band employed by a trendy clothing store to sell trendy clothes and accessories, even combined with your use of a well-respected and appropriately-lauded indie rock band--they still won't get the people who either wear those clothes or listen to those albums to your theaters. Maybe if the movie was going to turn out like this, but only maybe.

Next Week's Preview: Will I be able to get over my hatred for the insipid Julia Roberts if the trailer for her new movie uses Florence + the Machine?!

-- Fiona Hanly

Review: Mates of State, Crushes

Mates of State

Crushes (The Covers Mixtape)

B (or One Solid-Gold Pink Elephant and One Grey Failed Attempt at Angst)

A quick background on Mates of State, for those WGTB readers who have been living in a hole beneath the scope of all popular music for the last ten years and have chosen this very moment to surface: Mates of State have, since 1997, otherwise been known as Kori Gardner and Jason Hammel. They have also otherwise been known as husband and wife for that same amount of time. Does that not make you want to throw up? Oh, they've just been making music together for over thirteen years, and they're actually quite good at it, and they're still together. Barf. (Just look at the album cover!)

Mates of State's most recent release is an album called Crushes, a mixtape of sorts made up only of cover songs––a bold move, admittedly, for anyone in the music industry, but it's safe to say Gardner and Hammel have earned their keep and are more than capable of pulling it off. Interesting that they would call the album "Crushes"––I, too, have been head-over-heels for songs time after time, and feel like it is the only sentiment with which you can safely pull off a cover. The right balance of loving the original and boosting it with your own flavor in has to be in effect––and, even more importantly, there has to be a shred of empathy in your cover, a little note to the original, that says "this song was yours before, but now that I've done it, it's a little bit mine, too, because somehow, we speak the same language." These three influences make or break the covers––where did Mates of State succeed, and where didn't they? A handy guide for the eager yet lazy listener:

Review: William Fitzsimmons, Derivatives

William Fitzsimmons

Derivatives

C+

Derivatives, albeit William Fitzsimmons’ fourth full-length release, really doesn’t deepen or develop Fitzsimmons’ work thus far as an indie-folk-Grey’s-Anatomy-tear-jerker-scene-staple-soundrack-twee musician. What Derivatives does do is offer up remixes and retooled versions of songs that had already been released on The Sparrow and The Crow in 2009. But several of these “new-and-improved” songs have the “before” shot present on the ten-track album as well, making Derivatives even less fresh—simply because half of the songs had already been previously released exactly as they appear on this album. Oh, and there’s a Katy Perry cover. That’s about it.

As for Derivatives’ new work, are these new tracks a success? Debatable. William Fitzsimmons himself sounds much like a poor man’s Iron and Wine, especially compared to Iron and Wine frontman’s The Creek Drank the Cradle album. The remixes present on Derivatives, on the other hand, sound much like a poor man’s Postal Service. Fitzsimmons manages to come close to nailing the simultaneously distant and hollow yet poppy and poignant feel of Ben Gibbard and Jimmy Tamborello’s fated collaboration—like the entire Give Up album, Fitzsimmons’ remixed “I Don’t Feel It Anymore” gives the listener the sense of being far up in the clouds, away from all the banalities of human emotion, able to watch them play out without any strings being attached. (The main lyrics in Fitzsimmons’ track are: “oh take it all away / I don’t feel it anymore”—pretty rough, though the musician, also pursuing a career as a counselor, has likely seen the run of skewed human emotion well enough to portray it in such a light).The light, airy electronica underlaces Fitzsimmons’ previously boring croon and gives it the newer, sweeter edge it needed. But in the end, even that edge is not enough, the album still leaves the listener in want.

-- Fiona Hanly

Review: Born Ruffians, Say It

Born Ruffians
Say It
ZzzZZZZzzzz…..D+

Doing an album review in retrospect is always fun, because I, as an informed and intelligent consumer and evaluator of music, get to see what everyone else in the music world said about it before me, and then I get to find something completely different and unique to say. (Just kidding, it’s not fun.)

Poor Born Ruffians. Pitchfork gave them a 3.8 (OUCH), and nobody else really had anything better to say. I don’t have anything better to say. This album wasn't rubbish, but it was close. I listened to Say It in its entirety, waiting for one, just one gem (or two, or three) reminiscent of the previous albums that earned the Canadian indie pop darlings such acclaim over the past few years to jump out at me. Nothing happened. Lyrically, the album’s songwriting was completely passé, slack, and devoid of meaning, musically every arrangement seemed lazy and tired, and as a whole the album was rather like the world’s itchiest, most ill-fitting sweater.

Essentially, Say It is Born Ruffians’ sophomore slump. The one stand-out track, “Ballad of Moose Bruce, The,” is still very, very boring when compared with every single other track on 2008’s Red, Yellow, and Blue or 2006’s self-titled album, though it is the one song on the latest album that sounds enough like its predecessors to be enjoyable.

It’s not over, Born Ruffians. We’ll hang in there for you. Just, do better next time. Come on, you covered Grizzly Bear and didn’t mess it up. You should be able to do anything. Including making a knock-out third album. We're waiting.

-- Fiona Hanly

Review: Pearly Gate Music, Pearly Gate Music

Pearly Gate Music
Pearly Gate Music
B-

Zach Tillman’s self-titled debut into the folk scene did not strike a chord with me—but the name, the name did. Zach Tillman is Joshua Tillman’s brother. Most recognizably a member of the folk darlings Fleet Foxes, Joshua has also been a member of several other groups and has released prolifically as a solo artist. Big brother Joshua, little brother Zach, meet WGTB. To be completely honest, it is unclear which brother is the older and which is the younger—however, several clues, including each brother’s respective time spent being a presence in the indie folk scene, and especially the raw, even unpolished sound of this album itself, indicate Pearly Gate Music is very much Zach’s little-brother-debut.

Musically the two brothers are unsurprisingly related—their voices sound very much alike (smooth and sweet and wonderful), yet Joshua focuses more on harmonies, while Zach showcases his voice bouncing off the walls of his songs on its own. However, at this point, the brothers diverge—Joshua’s solo work is closer to classic indie folk ballads, while Zach’s is…a little stranger, a little less recognizable. Zach’s set of songs in this solo release are hard even to define, let alone judge, because within each song it seems like there are three or four songs, with only a set of lyrics in common. Little Brother’s tempo picks up, slows down, several instruments come blaring in, die out again, leaving the listener at least utterly confused, if not a tad bit disappointed that the album is not more rounded out à la Big Brother. “Gossamer Hair” and “Oh What a Time,” albeit two of the album’s stand-out tracks, also perfectly showcase this lack of musical continuity—it is much like carrying on a conversation with someone who hasn’t quite figured out how to carry one on yet, and pauses for so long you’re unsure if it is your turn to speak, then raises and lowers his volume so frequently and abruptly you’re unsure whether to follow in turn or just end the conversation entirely. And yes, while Zach may have grown up with music in his blood, playing in his big brother’s bands, maybe he too hasn’t quite figured “it” out yet. HOWEVER. All else aside, this fresh, continually echoing album does show scores of unharnessed potential, so don’t shelve away the Tillman name quite yet—perhaps a traveling family band is in the works? There's always something we can learn from our older sibling––I should know, I am one.

-- Fiona Hanly

Review: Peter Wolf Crier, Inter-Be

Peter Wolf Crier

Inter-Be

a solid B

Whenever I listen to this album, I imagine Peter Wolf Crier playing in a giant, abandoned old barn, in the middle of nowhere, around sunset, when the light filters in through the cracks of the walls just right so you can see the dust and specks of hay kind of swirling around. That’s exactly what this album sounds like. Cool, right? Not really, according to this graphic:

Peter Wolf Crier haven’t had it easy. They weren’t surrounded by 1000 dive bars featuring 1000 new breakout indie bands every evening to delve inspiration from, they didn’t have a 100% chance of trendy—they were surrounded by, well, Minnesota: open expanses of land, tiny little farm towns, probably a lot of cows and sometimes some trees, too. (Yes, that means no dive bars.) That puts them at about 5% chance of trendy. I know their pain! These are my people—we have to learn to think differently with these kinds of odds. And Peter Wolf Crier did—to their great success; their debut album Inter-Be has been gathering buzz for most of the last several months.

It’s hard to get anyone’s attention when you’re a guitar-and-drum indie-folk duo. There are only a bazillion other versions of you out there, grappling to the death for just one single speck of recognition. Peter Wolf Crier gets around this with a sound that’s just different enough from everyone else to be perfect—listeners are intrigued, but not so put off PWC is forever condemned to obscurity. The vocals on Inter-Be are effectively what really set the band apart—I would say lyrics, I’m a sucker for lyrics, but I can’t for the life of me understand most of them (the only word that comes through on “Crutch & Cane,” the track that immediately made it on my list of favorite songs for late March/early April, is “Zanzibar.” Well, I’ve always wanted to go to Zanzibar?). The tracks effectively sound like they were recorded in a tinny echo chamber—which doesn’t even sound that attractive, but it’s perfect. The drums and persistently strummed guitar follow in the same echoing fashion throughout. This may be a stretch, but the tracks sound like they somehow have a LOT of space in them—these are, at the end of the day, just two guys trying to throw something, anything out into the vast openness of a Minnesota plain.

Stand Out Tracks: “Crutch & Cane,” “Hard As Nails,” “Down Down Down” (I for some reason immediately think of Elliott Smith’s “Don’t Go Down”)

-- Fiona Hanly

Review: Ratatat, LP4

Ratatat
LP4
A- if you’re the twenty-something at the party upstairs
F+ if you’re the parents of the newborn sleeping downstairs

“Was wird da draus?... Was wird daraus?”

The second track of Ratatat’s latest full-length, LP4, starts out with a voiceover from what I guess must be some old German film. Let me translate…Professor Sonorous Gravely Man Voice is saying, “What will come of this?” It’s almost as if Ratatat was questioning where on earth this latest album was going, if anywhere at all. The eager listener isn’t really sure where they’re going either through these seconds of pondering, at least not until Ratatat launch into “Drugs” and fully wallop us over the head multiple times with a solid succession of tunes. Tunes, I might add, that you will be hearing at parties all summer long (“Oh my God, I LOVE Ratatat! Why aren’t we friends?”), will be remixed with the latest Miley and J-Biebz by fall, and will make it onto the next installations of Super Mash Bros and Hood Internet mixtapes several times. Take my word for it.

The general world of People Who Collectively Decide What Music Is Good And What Music Is Not (by that I mean the 500000000 music blogs currently in existence, brought to you by The Internet) decided fairly unilaterally that Ratatat’s 2008 full-length, LP3 was weak. To quote just one: "the album lacks the propulsive urgency of previous Ratatat efforts." LP3 was weak, WGTB readers. Thankfully, Ratatat learned from their mistakes, essentially they realized that everyone was still listening to “Seventeen Years” (off the self-titled album) on repeat. This album takes several paces back from the spacey, more instrumentally diverse LP3 and returns to the neat, raw, guitar-and-synth bundle of success, making LP4 sound much closer to earlier albums (Classics, Ratatat)—and thank God.

Was wird da draus? (transl: "What will come of this?") EIN TANZFEST wird daraus. (transl: "a gathering in which many people are vigorously dancing will come of this.") This album could not have been timed more perfectly: it is nothing if not a summer album. The pace never drops below effortless boogie, and will have you at full out rave at certain points. This guy knows what I’m talking about.

Stand Out tracks: "Party With Children," "Drugs," the end of "Bare Feast" when a woman’s voiceover says this: “Yeah, I used to wait for people…after school and beat ‘em up (laughs), if I didn’t like ‘em, if they were pretty, or if they smiled too much.” Me too!

-- Fiona Hanly

Review: Walter Schreifels, An Open Letter to the Scene

 Walter Schreifels
An Open Letter to the Scene
B 

While initially listening to An Open Letter to the Scene, an album I assumed to be some unknown artist’s debut, all I did was compare it to things I already knew, try to place it in someone else’s terms. However, the musician behind said letter, Walter Schreifels, is certainly anything but an unknown, he is an established fixture in music. 

Schreifels was heavily involved in New York’s hardcore scene during the 80’s, (notably in Gorilla Biscuits). His latest album is as much a reflective tribute as it is an introduction to a whole new Schreifels. In An Open Letter to the Scene, he has progressed all the way into indie-rock-with-a-dash-of-folk. Instrumentally, the album is simple, stripped down: each track’s sound centers on four briskly strummed acoustic guitar chords backed by drums, two-part harmony male vocals, only occasionally does one hear other instruments. 

Now take note of the title. What is an open letter’s function? In the title track “Open Letter,” Schreifels sings “Don’t forget the struggle, don’t forget the streets, don’t send out an open letter to the scene.” BUT, even though those lyrics may suggest the opposite, this album really is an open letter, a “hey, guys, here’s what I think, I’m forty years old and here’s where I’ve come, take it or leave it, this is me.” I’ll take it.

Recommended Tracks: “Arthur Lee’s Lullaby,” “Open Letter”

-- Fiona Hanly

"Sweet 'n' Flo," Mondays 12-1 pm on WGTB

Review: Inlets, Inter Arbiter

 Inlets

Inter Arbiter

 Artistic Merit: B+

Enjoyment After One Week Of Listening: D-
Enjoyment After Two Weeks Of Listening: B

At first glance, the album, Sebastien Krueger’s debut full-length Inter Arbiter, following up his critically acclaimed EP The Vestibule, looks like it will undoubtedly be amazing. Yes, physically looks. The inside cover of the album itself won me over, I was and still am tempted to figure out a way to wallpaper a room in this print. Further exploration of the album cover led me to the track details––and who should I see featured on Track 6 but Zach Condon, golden god of music behind Beirut, man of my heart? I was on board. I proceeded to play Inter Arbiter with only the highest expectations––but was, surprisingly enough, absolutely, overwhelmingly, sorely disappointed.

I spent a week’s time being absolutely vexed at how much buzz Inter Arbiter was getting while I was busy hating (yes, unfortunately hating) it. For a variety of reasons, Krueger’s dissonant, complex instrumental arrangements and husky croon just make me wholly uncomfortable. However, both conceptually and artistically, the album is fairly brilliant, I (grudgingly) must admit. These same off-putting, complex instrumental orchestrations speak for themselves, chapeau, Krueger, you multi-instrumentalist, you. Krueger also has some of the most amazing friends in music, and many of them are unsurprisingly featured on Inter Arbiter. Dirty Projectors fans will note Angel Deradoorian’s appearance, a perfect fit in a world of dissonance. Lyrically, Krueger is lack-luster––he seems to be crooning every word out of the muffled corner of his mouth. Further on Krueger’s instrumental arrangements, I noticed on first listen (while I wasn’t busy squirming) that tracks such as “Bells and Whistles” (the track I tolerated best) sound similar to Andrew Bird or Owen Pallett's intricacy––key here is that these are both artists I coincidentally like very much. Going back to the album details that earlier left me flummoxed, however, “Bells and Whistles” is the track that features Zach Condon’s instrumentals...so my taking to this track in particular of course made perfect sense. My dislike of the album, on the other hand, still does not, though an appreciation for this unique artist’s debut is unavoidable.

Tracks You’ll Like If You’re Not Named Fiona: Bright Orange Air, Bells and Whistles

-- Fiona Hanly

"Sweet 'n' Flo," Mondays 12-1 pm on WGTB

Native Noise: Buildings- and CD giveaway!

NATIVE NOISE: BUILDINGS

Accessibility: 8
Originality: 9

Musical Prowess: 9
Recommended Listening: 8
Crush Factor: 9
Artistic Experience*: 10
Overall: 9.2+

*This new rating category was necessary. Throughout the Buildings show, a video of various scenes was playing on a screen in the background, and though I can’t really describe how perfect it was, it gets 10 extra points for how fascinated I was––not only was their music perfectly exhilarating and stimulating, they threw in some synesthesia.

 

 

I begin by issuing a formal apology for gate-crashing to all the 23-26 year old superhipsters that were present at Big Bear Café on Friday night to see local DC band Buildings––but hiding the fact that I am an incorrigibly fresh-faced 19-year-old who was in the Shaw neighborhood for the first time ever was next to impossible. And, the way things look, you all will probably have to start sharing Buildings with more than just one little college girl lurking in the corner of a coffee shop soon in any case.

“How did the blessed miracle of Buildings come to be?” I asked the band after sitting down with band members Collin Crowe, Nick Stern, and David Rich, only a few minutes after they had blown the windows out of the little café with a solid set.  “Me and Collin met through destiny,” said Rich bluntly. No, destiny is not a girl, like I initially thought, destiny is a random act of fate––I like those. After playing around with the lineup for a bit, they settled on two guitars (Crowe and a new addition I didn’t get a chance to speak with), bass (Stern), and drums (Rich)––but no vocals. Stern explained: “our music stems from the fact that we all see the songs completely differently, and if we added vocals, it would kind of ruin it, because we’d all be anchored to the same thing.” The result is essentially fresh and exhilarating lo-fi SOUND that is hard to put a label on (even their record label Sockets, in their blurb describing the new EP, says that Buildings are not just some “typical post-whatever clone lamery,” well, thank god.)

Review: Automatic Children, New is Beautiful

Automatic Children

New is Beautiful

14-year-old Fiona: A for sound, What Are Lyrics?
19-year-old Fiona: B- for sound, A for lyrics

Before handing me Automatic Children’s debut album New is Beautiful, WGTB Music Board Director Christian said this: “This record sounds pretty much just like everything coming out of Brooklyn right now. Except for the lyrics, their lyrics are actually pretty cool. There, I’ve essentially written your review for you.” Now you make the call, here’s what I’ve got on New is Beautiful:

Automatic Children sounded so familiar at first listen that I had to wonder if I’d heard them before––no, they are a little-known (at least outside of their borough) up-and-coming band out of NYC, so not that. Their music, however, plays straight up into the genre of poppy lo-fi post-punk––a genre that feels very much like home to me, after I dwelled there for much of my freshman and sophomore year of high school. If I had heard this album during that phase, it would have undoubtably, immediately become a close favorite.

Concert Review: Owen Pallett at the Black Cat

Owen Pallett

The Black Cat

April 15th, 2010

Owen Pallett had a cold during his show on Thursday night at the Black Cat’s mainstage. Nobody noticed until he said something—after his thirteenth song.

Nobody noticed he was onstage, either, at first. Though I’ll admit I was shamelessly scoping out the wiry, gangly must-be-a-roadie with asymmetrical hair and a black wife-beater, I couldn’t be sure that this man would start playing the violin after standing there, tuning said violin and staring unassumingly into the crowd for at least 10 minutes. But suddenly, we were off!

Pallett is one of those musicians an audience automatically takes to, based purely on the fact that he is having just as much fun performing as they are watching. And he’s quite impressive to watch—his songs use rapid-fire looping and layering (kind of like what my talentless self can do on this website, but unlike many other musicians who use a similar approach, 100% of the sound sound in many of his songs originate simply from him and a violin.

Review: Dum Dum Girls, I Will Be

 DUM DUM GIRLS
I WILL BE
Score: One Golden Polaroid Of Your Mother in 1972
(also: A)

This is a short review. But for an A, especially a golden one, this is going to get very personal very rapidly. In essence: I actually let this album sink in, had to listen to it sixteen times (and counting), had to let myself sink into it, into an hour of golden lo-fi warmth that absolutely knocked me off my feet.  Dum Dum Girls’ I Will Be is a whole heap of sincerity, mixed in with sumptuous grit, and topped off with what can only be impossibly, permeating 60’s poppy, thrashy fun. Yes, there’s been an influx of Shangri-La-esque-throwback-scuzzy-blissful-lo-fi-crooner-girl-bands lately (Best Coast of course comes to mind), but Dum Dum Girls are leagues ahead of their peers. If you go home every night saying “but it doesn’t MEAN anything!”, Dum Dum Girls are certainly for you. The songs are simple, yes, the lyrics are straightforward, yes (at least after you make them out or speak German for Track 3, which I thankfully do, let me be your translator. Let me be your guide). You can’t listen to a single track on I Will Be without knowing that they mean what they say, what they play, how they play it––they really do. Dum Dum Girls were started by Kristin Gundred (under the stage name Dee Dee), and are now backed up by three more of the most intimidatingly “cool” ladies you can imagine. That’s Dee Dee’s mother, by the way, on the cover of the album. Do you think it looks like the cover of Contra? I like this one better. I like this a lot. This was a short review. 

Recommended Tracks: The Entire Album (OK, Ok: Blank Girl, Rest of Our Lives, Baby Don’t Go, Oh Mein Me. There.)

 

-- Fiona Hanly

Host, "Sweet 'n' Flo," Mondays 12-1 on WGTB

Review: Mainly Lanes, Oomami

Mainly Lanes
Oomami

F

This record is what I imagine the end of the world to sound like. (This is what I imagine the end of the world looks like, if anyone was wondering.)

The WGTB blog may get a lot of guff about not giving out very many low grades, but it’s probably because most of the other albums deserve at least some credit for having attempted the grandiose, grueling task of making an album. Not Mainly Lanes, Mainly Lanes gets an F on Oomami even for trying. To be perfectly lucid, this is garbage. I couldn’t get through 30 seconds of any respective track without wanting to bodily hurl myself from the window of my basement-level apartment.

Why so harsh? To begin with, the lead singer’s voice is sub-par at best, and six shades of terrible at worst. We’d all love to have a voice like this guy but at a certain point reality has to set in, and most of us must realize we are meant for bad karaoke, not a record label. Mainly Lanes missed this vital memo at some point along the line, and it is truly the most distracting feature of the album. The memo about clichéd, repetitive, boring guitar progressions must have also passed them by on every single track. I even heard a violin being plucked in one song—really?

To conclude on a personal note, I value lyrics almost above anything in music. So the fact that Mainly Lanes’ lyrics are the most mind-bogglingly bogus lyrics I have ever heard, (worse in fact than a legendary song my sister and I wrote about pickled peppers many summers ago), was simply the cherry on top of the album that officially makes my list of Top Ten Worst Albums OF ALL TIME. A sneak preview, if you can bear it, from Track 10: “there once was a race of flying pygmies”––no. Just, just stop. I don’t know where you’re going, but it’s nowhere I want to follow.

IN ESSENCE: AVOID AT ALL COSTS.

Are You Kidding Me? Track: Track 10 (Monks and Crossbones)

-- Fiona Hanly

"Sweet N Flo," Mondays 12-1 on WGTB