Review: The Black Keys, Brothers

The Black Keys

Brothers

C

Even if you’re not a fan of The Black Keys, it’s likely their sound is a lot more familiar than you would think. Their music is prevalent in soundtracks for film, television, and even video games. It is in this area where their music really shines, their distinctive brand of lo-fi and affected blued rock lends a certain cool-factor to almost anything, even the paramount importance of american express to a certain ketchupy olympian.

Their sixth studio album, Brothers, has this swampy, thick, blues feel in spades. “Next Girl”, the album’s second track, has a great thumping sound evocative of Led Zeppelin, but the lyrics are so dry and woolly it is almost difficult to bear. “With my next girl/ She'll be nothing like my ex-girl/ It was a painful dance/ And I got a second chance” The issue here is not that the lyrics are simple, as many great blues lyrics don’t exactly read like they could have been written by Leonard Cohen after a great books colloquium, it’s that they are painfully insipid. Many Blues greats had simple lyrics, but a great Blues song, as understated as its lyrics may be, conveys real feeling, like Bo Diddley’s Dearest Darling: “I once had a heart/So trill and true/ But now it's gone/ From me to you/Take care of it/ Like I have done/ For you have two hearts/ And I have none.” Any feeling that may have inspired much of Brothers has been suffocated by banality.

Now maybe I’m missing the point, maybe the threadbare cliches that makeup the lyrics are intentionally lacking in order to allow the beats to shine, but if you’re inclined to thinking, this album may leave you fairly bored. Humming organ and gauzy, wistful vocals in “The Only One” provide a noted change from the harder bluesy rock The Black Keys are known for. But again the lyrics, like “I'm so wrapped up in your gaze/Hoping this is just a phaze” leave more than a little something to be desired. Other highlights include Jerry Butler cover “Never Give You Up” and “Too Afraid To Love You” (who doesn’t love a little harpsichord?). The high-point is definitely Dangermouse produced “Tighten Up” which is destined to become a summer driving/boating/anything anthem (like most summer anthems, Tighten up is not lacking in the whistling department).

I wouldn’t write off Brothers as a complete loss, The Black Keys are indisputably adept musicians and their smoky, gritty sound will make whatever you choose to do with your summer feel at least 10% cooler, as long as you’re not paying too much attention to the stale and unimaginative lyrics.

-- Tiare Dunlap

Review: Harlem

Harlem Hippies A Harlem is a trio from Austin by way of Los Angeles by way of Nashville by way of Tucson. Thier genre follows suit with their geography, Harlem is punk? garage rock? retro garage pop? R&B? proto-punk? etc etc. While their genre remains elusive, I think they explain their sound best: "When kids are jumping on the bed playing tennis rackets like guitars. We are the music that is playing in their brains." Harlem’s newest release, Hippies swaggering, exuberant, unpretentious jaunt of an album. Hippies opens with  the unavoidably catchy “Someday Soon” is a headbopping little number about “letting that shit burn”. Though Harlem certainly has a distinct sound, each of the 16 tracks bursts in its own unique way, alternating between heavy percussive surges and sweet and mellow throwbacks. There’s something disarming about the charm of Harlem’s insouciant take on whatever genre gets pinned on them. “Friendly Ghost” is yet another highlight, with winsome lyrics of, well, what the title suggests. Finally, I’d suggest checking out “Gay Human Bones” a welcome jolt of clear sound in a thickly distorted album. Overall, Hippies is the perfect thing to get you through the last searing days of classes and into the much needed lackadaisical days of summer. -- Tiare Dunlap "Girl Please," Fridays 4-6 pm on WGTB

Concert Review & Interview with The Strange Boys

Interview with Phil Sambol of The Strange Boys

March 22

9:30 Club with Deerhunter and Spoon 

There aren’t many activities in life for which you will be rewarded for not trying. Flying a plane is definitely a no, as are performing surgery and professional basketball. Music, however, is one thing where seemingly the less you care the better off you are. From diva-like storm outs to forgetting their own lyrics to passing out onstage, professional musicians have developed a sense of one-upmanship to see who can be the most indifferent. This unspoken competition certainly grates on concert goers and critics alike. However, every once in a while you find a band with the right proportion of nonchalance and talent and you remember how we all got into this crazy mess to begin with. I found this winning combination in the Strange Boys whose performance at the 9:30 club on March 22 was in a word, effortless. If you haven’t heard the Strange Boys I implore you to go out and buy their recently released album “Be Brave” and revel in their distinctively self-possessed sound. They’ve been described as “Beach Boys on mescaline” but I’m going to avoid sixties references as they’ve got a time machine sized chip on their collective shoulder (see below). In terms of contemporaries, they’re in great company with Black Lips, Harlem, and Thee Oh Sees. They’ve masterfully combined R&B, Garage Rock, Folk, and Punk and engulfed them all in a swaggering twang. Lead Singer Ryan Sambol’s voice has been described as everything from a strained squawk to a young Bob Dylan (though the two are usually synonymous) but again we’re edging pretty close to 60’s territory, but really no one wants to be compared to today’s creepy and depressing Christmas album Dylan. I don’t often implore you readers to do much of anything, so please, if you haven’t already been sold by the the infectiously uninhibited lo-fi bluesy jangle of Strange Boys take my advice and do yourself the favor of getting on this band wagon. 

I had the chance to speak with bassist Phil Sambol after the show:

Review: Freelance Whales, Weathervanes

Freelance Whales

Weathervanes

D  

 

Freelance Whales have stumbled into the extremely fortunate circumstances of having been hyped as the next best thing. Since the release of Weathervane they have been labelled as the Passion Pit of 2010, meaning that they have been positioned to take over the world (or at least make a pretty penny licensing their song to advertise everything from smartphones to cash cards). I don’t know how seriously anyone takes these predictions of the next big thing, but in this case I think the arbiter of hipness needs to get their head checked. For me, Weathervane is that sweetly awkward and thoughtful boy you know you should like but can’t. No matter many Michael Cera cliches try to convince you otherwise, you just can’t muster the sheer force of will to pretend you enjoy his long discourses on the authenticity and superior sound quality of vinyl. We all know him, we’ve all considered him, had a nap-inducing date with him, and moved on. Sure the pieces are all there, he’s smart, funny enough, he has a killer cd collection, and he’s endearingly canadian. And yet, something crucial is missing, that exhilarating unnameable quality is nowhere to be found, so you get bored and move on. If this boy had a theme album (as many of these boys do) it would be Weathervane. The 13-track album has all the necessary parts to top the softer side of the indie-music world, their lyrics are innocently precocious and cynicism-free, they’ve assembled a ragtag collection of featured instruments all the way from banjo to glockenspiel, and the band’s hometown is a stone’s throw from Brooklyn. And yet, there’s something missing. The whole album is a long, foot-dragging exercise in anticipation, and after 13 songs, the climax never shows. 

 

-- Tiare Dunlap

Host, "Girl, Please," Fridays 4-6 on WGTB

Concert Review: The Morning Benders at the Black Cat

The Morning Benders @ The Black Cat
March 11, 2010

The morning benders played a sold out show at the Black Cat on March 11. This band’s popularity came as a surprise to no one but the morning benders themselves. Throughout the incredible set comprised solely of songs off of their second album, “Big Echo,” frontman Chris Chu commented effusively on how thankful the band was for everyone in attendance. It is this earnestness which to me is the secret of the morning bender’s [lower caps intentional] inescapable charm. “Big Echo” marks a departure from their debut album, “Talking through Tin Cans,” the kind of sweet, innocuous indie rock which elicited some luke-warm comparisons to The Shins. Their newest release comes from the idea that a big shout produces a big echo, and this album marks the transcendence of the pleasant small echo of "Talking Through Tin Cans" to the loftier reverberations of their own big echo. For this album the benders explored Phil Spector’s concept of the "wall of sound," adding an inescapable depth to the more doleful melodies.

Review: Dinosaur Feathers, Fantasy Memorial

 

Dinosaur Feathers

Fantasy Memorial

A

  
My love affair with Dinosaur Feathers began as all great love affairs do: on the internet. I’ve been enjoying the Early Morning Risers EP since their website released it in mid-August so I jumped at the chance to review their new album “Fantasy Memorial” before its name was even said aloud. If my enjoyment of Early Morning Risers was the equivalent of an intense internet courtship, being the first to hear their full-length debut album was kind of like agreeing to meet in person. I left holding the CD hoping that it wouldn't turn out to be middle-aged, sweaty, and balding (if you know what i mean) and I’m happy to report a full album of Dinosaur Feathers is just as enjoyable as their buoyant and eclectic EP. From the first minute of opening track “I Ni Sogoma”, I knew our love was going to make it.
In “Fantasy Memorial” the Brooklyn duo taps heavily into African and Latin rhythms along with the electronic beats of their much favored drum machine. This will no doubt elicit comparisons to indie-pop darlings Vampire Weekend, but compare at your own risk, as their uniquely layered vocal harmonies are truly unparalleled. Fantasy Memorial is an exceptional glimpse into the band’s journey to discover their sound. Each track bursts with something new, whether it’s a different regional influence, like the Spanish sounding “Vendela Vida” or their take on a new genre, in the case of the soaring melodies reminiscent of Motown glory of “Teenage Whore”. Other highlights include “History Lessons” (a WGTB track of the week), and the ebullient and lively “Family Waves”, which makes familial disputes sound as fun as a drunken weekend at Disneyland. In their first full-length release, Dinosaur Feathers delivers a thoroughly enjoyable soundtrack to Spring resonant with stirring world beats and ambitious vocal harmonies.

-- Tiare Dunlap, 
Host, "Girl, Please," Fridays 4-6 pm on WGTB

Review: Charlotte Gainsbourg, IRM

Charlotte Gainsbourg

IRM 

B-

I can’t say I was expecting too much from Charlotte Gainsbourg, the daughter of possibly the most famous pop singers of the last century, Serge Gainsbourg; if we can take anything from the collected works of second generation musicians it’s that shared DNA does not guarantee shared talent. Fortunately, IRM was pleasantly surprising, there are some definite high points, (tracks 1, 2, 11, and 12) but I can’t help but assume that producer Beck had a lot to do with that given that they sound pretty similar to his most recent releases. Overall, Gainsbourg’s third album leaves something to be desired. Her distinctively smoky voice makes even the most underwhelming class at least interesting. However, sometimes her near whispering voice seems to get overwhelmed by her instrumental backing and certain songs tend to really be dragging. At best the album is a winning compromise between the strange and spooky with some light-hearted pop influences while other songs are sleepy and underwhelming.
Best Tracks: IRM (# 2) Master’s Hand (#1) Dandelion (#11) Voyage (#12)

-- Tiare Dunlap
Host, "Girl, Please!" Fridays 4-6 pm on WGTB

Review: Eels, End Times

Eels 

End Times 

B+

Eels describes their eighth studio album, End Times as the sound of an artist growing older in uncertain times. The album was intended to capture a man teetering on self-destruction in a dying world; End Times refers not to the predictions of impending apocalyptic doom in 2012, but the end of common decency in our desperate times. Recorded in a basement on an old four track tape machine, End Times gives a voice to the bleak outlook and worries of a defeated man. End Times is a respectable showcase of the indisputable depth and talent of Eels, however in these uncertain times eels are lamenting, I’m not sure how many people are going to be willing to subject themselves to frontman Mark Everett’s bemoaning everything from suicide bombers to the LA neighborhoods that really piss him off (“Mansions of Los Feliz”). Songs like “High and Lonesome”, which is one minute of pouring rain and the dialing of a telephone definitely leave something to be desired, that something is music. Of course the album is redeemed by the Everett’s unquestionable musical abilities and poignant lyrics, but the extreme bleakness of the album makes it difficult to enjoy in full.

Best Tracks: Little Bird (# 13) Mansions of Los Feliz (# 4)

-- Tiare Dunlap
Host, "Girl, Please!" Fridays 4-6 pm on WGTB