Secret Lives of the Freemasons
This Was Built To Make You Dance
( astromagnetics ) 2005

"tonight we're all sick for loves sake"

Asheville, North Carolina is home to a limited number of memorable things. They have a big ass mountain known as the "Grandfather", a nature preserve and a fine indie venue called the Orange Peel. Don't get me wrong, the place is beautiful in the spring, but it's no Portland, Oregon (nowhere is). Secret Lives of the Freemasons are from this village that time preserved, and you can make them number 4 on the memorable list with This Was Built To Make You Dance - their debut on Jersey's astromagnetics (co-owned by one of the superstars in Thursday).

To say Secret Lives played it safe on this debut may come across as disrespectful - so to say this album packs a moving truck-full of diversity may settle better. As a handshake deal between earlier NC bands A Kiss Before Dying & Throwing Myself. (both of whom I know nothing but owe a search), Secret Lives may be where it's at for those that can appreciate multiple harmonies and just as many breakdowns in the same song.

Vocalist Brien Worsham leaves plenty to envy on This Was Built with his ability to instantly switch from ferocious to restrained on choice tracks like "Glazed Eyes Never Lie" - in which drummer Travis Moss also puts his share in. Noticeable details also make this debut one to favor highly, such as the mixing from track to track on "Glazed Eyes" into "To The Barricades". If you're not watching the numbers on the player, this could pass as one 8+ minute anthem.

This Was Built To Make You Dance would be the proper primer for those kids who need to lose their Militia Group fixation but haven't developed the appreciation (or nerve) for HellFest. These 6 Freemasons have secretly forged an album that can - as instantly as it makes you dance (hear: "It Only Took A Whisper") - also bring you and your fists to the center of the circle.

Stay together for the kids - this dying scene needs you.

kaleb 05.05.05

Secret Machines, the
Now Here Is Nowhere
( Reprise : 2004)

Finally, a band that - by far - outweighs their own hype. If you've read anything positive forecasting the arrival of the Secret Machines on Reprise records, please believe it.

These three fellas (footnote number one: three members, the magic number, just enough room for guitar / singer, bass & drummer) play as if they have no major label agenda and have neither heard what is engulfing mainstream radio & television for at least the last 10 years. In the end we get one of the most refreshing major debuts to have hit the indie scene in quite the long while (footnote number two: in just 2 years, they leaped from AceFu to Reprise). As far as the contents are concerned, there is no glitzy gimmick the Machines are attempting to win you over with - it's rock like they used to breed freely in the 70's. Strike that - the good rock they bred.

Upon the first minute of Now Here is Nowhere, you are charged full-on with a wealth of drums. Josh Garza's kit sounds like they may be the house set from Zeppelin's IV sessions. His drums sound huge - bigger than life & wide-the fuck-open. In toady's jangle of slimmed down percussion (snare, kick & high-hat: check) it's so audibly delightful to hear some floor toms. The next closest observation may be the sonic fuzz that holds the beats together (see: 'Sad And Lonely', 'Pharaoh's Daughter')- like most of Now Here Is Nowhere was funneled through the amps from Jesus & Mary Chain's Psychocandy (final footnote: if you have been following any reviews of this album, it's been a textual sea of references to past / current bands who have defined what original music is today - to that I must say the majority have been to the benefit of the Machines).

Then there are the trimmed down moments, like the Grandaddy-ish 'The Leaves Are Gone' that make what the Machines have created by far one of (if not) the best releases of 2004. To think - I leaped for their 2002 ep September 000 (Ace Fu) after many positive reviews (and the production of Brian Deck!!) and was sadly disappointed, only now to go back for a second listen to see that this has been an incredible band since the beginning of the 21st century (see: 'Breathe').

'Anthmematic', contagious and extremely powerful - each of the nine tracks their own separate channel that showcases a band that stands on a level too high for most of today's "it" factor bands to even shout to. If this is who Reprise was making room for when Wilco got the nudge - we can certainly be thankful that both bands have happy major homes.

kaleb :: (06.10.04)

Secret Machines
This Road Leads to Where It's Lead
( Warner Bros.) 2005

This story starts with me sitting, waiting for Interpol at the Fillmore, and anticipating the live show of the Secret Machines, who were opening for the New York rockers. As the band approached their intricate stage setup, I was very excited: Lights! Lasers! Unconventional stage setup! This was going to be fun!

However, the Machines seemed more impressed by their "indie Rush" bombast than the crowd, especially myself. Their songs seemed stuck in a midtempo rock holding pattern, and their showmanship was relatively nonexistent, replaced with a thoroughly uncalled-for laser show. Needless to say, I wasn't sold on the much-hyped Machines, and walked away not so impressed.

When this new S.M. EP, This Road Leads Where It's Led, appeared on my desk, indeed, the hesitation still held on, and I looked at the black-dressed EP, not sure what to do.

So I put it on the stereo.

The title track, also featured on last year's full-length Now Here Is Nowhere, opens the 6-song EP, and surprised me with its thumping rhythms and catchy minor-key melody. Surprising, and far from the unassuming live show, which often substituted a laser show for real melody or hooks. The new original track, following The Road Leads Where It's Led, acts as the second punch in a one-two combo of great songs highlighting the studio mastery and strong songwriting of the machines.

And it's at this point that I finally understood the onstage prominence of drummer Josh Garza: his heavy thump and deft use of fills sets this groove apart from similar bands such as Queens of the Stone Age or Broken Social Scene. In fact, the band seems to walk the line between the throb and swagger of the Queens and the earnesty and casual heartbreak of a band like Coldplay, with atmospherics mattering as much as the pummeling riffs that soar on top, like in the audacious cover of "Money (That's What I Want)," the subtle changes of which make the song into a dynamic study that moves like an iceberg, in a good way.

And that's why this EP is so good - it plays up the stength the Machines have as a "headphones band" - this record's expert use of reverbs, background noises and stereo panning is best appreciated with a big set of headphones and lots of volume, not onstage with lasers and overpriced beer.

With The Road Leads Where It's Led, I must issue my formal apology to the Secret Machines: for the last few months, I have taken the stance that you have "kinda sucked." I retract that opinion, and will forcibly feed this EP to my friends so that they may, as well, realize that you guys tend to kick ass.

But you should still rethink the laser show.

tyler 07.03.05

Seekonk
For Barbara Lee
( Kimchee ) 2003

"Why can't things stay the same, like a wax museum?"

While many of us have probably wished this at some point or another, most of us have probably not expressed it in such words. Seekonk's For Barbara Lee offers mature and thoughtful lyrics for a band releasing their debut album. There's a lot to expect from this dreamy rock/post-pop five-piece from Portland, Maine, with such individually diverse and artsy members. All the members on For Barbara Lee are multi-instrumentalists, and a couple surprise us with their talents to paint and sculpt. For Barbara Lee takes a few run-throughs, but Seekonk succeed in proving to you that they are not just another band with no particular quality that would make that stand out in the indie-scene. Many of their songs are simple, yet are able to leave you with a deep, overwhelming effect. Sometimes you feel you are hearing the background music for an episode of Gilmore Girls, but hey, it works. Seekonk finds ways to make otherwise boring, conventional songs, interesting. For instance, I don't think it is just a coincidence that on "Swim Again", we constantly hear the drowning sound of the drum. Shana Berry's sighing, doll-like voice, solidifies the album. It's opium-effect reminds you of those soothing nature sounds CDs you buy if you're having trouble sleeping. This is especially true on the track "The Delivery", a very composed, comforting lullabye, with occurrences of tame ocean wave crashing, chirping birds, and cello-accompaniment. "Hate the Sun" is possibly the most awkward track on the album, but arguably one of the best. Its creepy screeching sounds and thumping drums are frightening, as Berry sings along, "if you would only see that rocks would bleed, you'd cry." The album ends on an almost triumphant note with "Maps of Egypt", once again escorted by lyrics that you wish you wrote - " I am not a Rubik's cube, My colors don't align, I'm solved fairly easily."

While they may not yet deliver a life-changing album, Seekonk's ambition and talent definitely leave you intrigued enough to hear what their next album will sound like. This could be questionable, though, as Seekonk's lead-singer Shana Berry has been replaced by Sara Raney. Seekonk has mostly been an east-coast based band opening for acts such as Nels Cline and Picastro, as well as having headlined some shows at venues like The Skinny (in Maine) and The Nitelite (North Carolina). It seems pretty promising that by the time the band reaches the west coast, they'll still be creating great sounds.

" I'm a red brick wall, I challenge you to climb me, I bet you'd fall "

Caroline 02.09.05

Shearwater
Winged Life
Misra, 2004

Let's see if I can kill 2 banaquits* with one pebble. Ah, that was a horrid bird lovers joke. Then again, had it been a joke by one who truly loves winged life - no birds would be harmed.

The 2 "birds" I am attempting to cover are Shearwater's fantastic debut The Dissolving Room and their most recent collection of tenderness Winged Life. So, silly music collector that I am just put it all together that Shearwater is somewhat an extension of Okkervil River (swap the two if you feel need)- in that Shearwater spokesman Jonathan Meiburg is also the keyboardist for Okkervil. As well, the contributing partner in Shearwater is Will Sheff , who many may now know as the spokesman for - you guessed it - Okkervil River. Well that solves the equation as to why I have grown to love the both of these outfits - small world.

In 2001 on a brief visit to Portland [Oregon], I stumbled upon a golden record by the name of The Dissolving Room (grey flat, 2001). This is where Shearwater begins, and it is also where I instantly fell in love with this band - specifically one of the albums somber offerings by the name of "Not Tonight":

"And the suicide slides out of his skin, and he climbs inside the bed that you're in and touches your face".

If you are here with me now, as a fan of this brilliant band, and have yet to hear their debut - please make yourself whole and do so.

Now, on their third full-length (the second on Texas-stationed Misra), Shearwater have spun another album of intricate delightfulness. Like the ghost of Nick Drake (a legend whose name is worked into far too many album comparisons, but rightfully echoed here) on Simon Joyner's borrowed, blue guitar, "Wedding Bells are Breaking Up that Old Gang of Mine" returns to the house that The Dissolving Room was delivered. On board the Winged vessel is a collectors array of skillfully played instruments. Vibraphones, banjos (the grandeur of "Whipping Boy") and the Wurlitzer all contribute to this albums delightfully folk-tinged atmosphere.

Everything assuring you have read about Shearwater can be justified with one listen to Winged Life - each listen thereafter builds on this certainty.

* The banaquit (Coereba flaveola) adapts freely in dry, coastal areas - but needs adequate cover. It is know to feed on fruit bat.

.:: M I S R A ::.

kaleb :: (05.08.04)

Sadis Euphoria
Instinct & Obsession
( Willowtip ) 2003

Friends, Romans, Inanimate objects...lend me your ears! Quite frankly, I've grown weak and weary due in part to the over-categorization of musical genres. I'd take a pocket guillotine (copyright 2000 by The Egg Industries, Inc.) to each and every soul responsible for dissecting what was once a grand genre and then dissecting that dissection, and then dissecting that dissection...and on, and on, and on. Mincecore? Nintendocore? Seriously...has the grand genre become so convoluted that we need two thousand prefixes for ­core? I can only imagine the progression... Walmartcore... Pee Wee Hermancore... and on, and on, and on. In any event, I've had my boy Sherman set the Wayback Machine to 1988 and traveled in search of the most primary of the subsections: Grindcore. What I discovered was not, essentially, a discovery at all...more a rediscovery, if you will. Provided, when Carcass' [Reek of Putrefaction] was released I was a mere eleven years of age. Subsequently, it goes without saying that I then was not aware of its importance and contribution to the grand genre (metal, if you've been paying very little attention), but I've said it. If Napalm Death set out to establish a peaceful assembly, then Carcass incited the riot. The fact of the matter is this: I realized that at eleven years I wasn't yet of the age to fully appreciate the aesthetics of [Reek of Putrefaction] after it was unleashed upon the unsuspecting world...however, a new movement has presented itself as of late, one that I am now of the age to appreciate, and although they've since disbanded, Sadis Euphoria are worthy contributors. [Instinct & Obsession] is a modern invocation of Carcass' debut; even preserving the latter's production quality.

Slopcore anyone? The ingredients are there: the pitch deficient squeals and chewy chunks of low-end riffery; the muddled, monolithic skin pounding techniques and dirge-like drum fills; the testicular quake of the b-b-bass; and the Ruben Rosas inspired burps and bellows. All of these elements toss and turn and scatter while they splatter. My only qualm is that the vocalist doesn't display his range, keeping it at a guttural level for the majority of the disc...there's an occasional pork-like 'yip', but Steve's scorching vocals would've been much more well received had he likened himself to the vocal diversity of Joe Horvath, whose Circle of Dead Children outfit is a predominant heavyweight in the death/grind genre. However, the intellect was there:

Black realms surround, engulfing the head. The appendages are adrift from their syndic. Each limb is threaded and wrapped with indulgence. The torso is scraped by the scathing intentions. Bleeding becomes obsession. Blackness becomes the intention. Surpassing every potential, I have digested further. I will drip into infinity. Allow me to drain.
[From Burning in Flesh]

...and it was already in a matured state. The musicianship, however, was not. In comparison to CoDC, who didn't necessarily hit their "prime" until [The Genocide Machine], there are no future offerings on the horizon from these Pennsylvanians, who may very well have had the chance to prove themselves with a classic release next time out. The potential was there, it was simply in a dormant state...sadly, what we hear is what we get...

Slopcore of the highest caliber.

the egg ::(04.04.04).
Shop for Slop here

Bill Santen
In The Night Kitchen
( Sweatin' Betty ) 2004

"... .settle right in to a very soft Sunday, spent half our lives - worryin' about Monday".

I really do enjoy hearing Bill Santen sing. He has a voice that is truly appropriate for an acoustic guitar to accompany, and you can be assured he's not going to try and achieve anything he can't naturally with what he's been given. Like the greatest storytellers of the past and today, Santen chooses not to chant or overexert his anthems - rather he allows his tales to drive themselves in a natural, honest & affectionate pattern. Any of the eight choices on In The Night Kitchen will solidify these honest traits that not many (- try close to none) of today's singer / songwriters can claim they achieve. On the record, Bill is accompanied only on choice occasion by an additional player (an extra guitar, viola), yet for the most part you get a trustworthy guitar, steady stomps of a rhythmed foot and Bill's pleasant vocals.

Excellent tunes - the whole lot of 'em - from a modern craftsman. Thanks Bill - Birddog may be gone, but that voice lives on.

kaleb 05.28.05

Say Hi To Your Mom
Ferocious Mopes
( Euphobia ) 2005

I have one person to thank for this record - Eric Elbogen, the sole member of a Brooklyn-based band Say Hi To Your Mom. This album has one thing that many other more popular acts lack: well-written and original lyrics. Ferocious Mopes is like a collection of vignettes describing the lives of characters in an alternate world that meshes fantasy with the mundane details of reality (see "Poor Pete Is A Bit Self Conscious," a song about a self-proclaimed vampire who drives a Saturn). On the track "Recurring Motifs In Historical Flirtings," Elbogen muses about the aftermath of a rejection: "You must be happy now I'm deaf to dial tones / And your cool bangs have gone off with him / And to me you say / "let's just be friends!" / the four worst words in our language / But here's another chance / I'll fight him in a dance-off and I'll win / to a slow, slow BPM." The lyrics are clever and a bit unusual at times, often containing hints of humor in songs about depressing subjects.

Lyrics aside, the music itself is effortless and enjoyable. It's easy to be won over by Elbogen's murmuring voice flowing over the catchy, fuzzy guitars and subtle keyboard. The music is not excessively flashy or burdened with loads of unnecessary instrumentation, but rather it is simple and relatively mellow, serving as a perfect complement to the patiently sung lyrics about androids and toys that can think.

Joy! 08.08.05

Scary Kids Scaring Kids
The City Sleeps in Flames
( Immortal ) 2005

I have to admit when I first heard the name of this band and found out they were on major label, Immortal, I thought I was going to get some over produced Emo-core album that sooner or later would be darlings on MTV2. I was right for the most part. Do not take that the wrong way though.

I hate this beaten over the head emo trend and the bands that come with it just as much as the next guy, but I just can not find it in myself to dislike this album. Made up of six members, Scary Kids Scaring Kids possesses very competent musicians. The addition of a third guitarist and a keyboardist allows for interesting segments in songs. As in "The Only Medicine" the keyboard plays seminal role in setting the mood while, in one of the more abrasive parts of the album, the guitars and drums thrash melodically with a riff that sounds more fit for a metalcore, and on top of that we have the back up vocalist screaming his lungs out. This moment of chaos is then followed by a beautifully sung passage with intelligent vocals provided by frontman/bassist, Tyson. Scary Kids Scaring Kids frontman has a knack for writing intelligent lyrics as well, which is not common for a mainstream emo-core band.

A few gripes with this album include that sometimes it sounds like the vocalist has a hard time getting certain notes and in turn it sounds a little awkward. Also I wish the third guitar played a role that was a little more prominent, that doesn't mean to say it doesn't make an interesting factor it just feels underused.

Minor complaints aside, The City Sleeps in Flames is a victory for the tired and tried emo scene.

scott (is back!) 06.24.05

Earl Scruggs
The Essential Earl Scruggs
( Columbia / Legacy ) 2004

Earl Scruggs (b. 1924) is one of THE Grand-Daddys of the bluegrass banjo, but it seems as if he's not mentioned with the same reverence as Ralph Stanley or pre-fusion Bela Fleck. Perhaps because Scruggs - partnered with Lester Flatt and with his own Revue - tasted commercial success, a sure turn-off for purists and musicologists. Good gracious, Flatt & Scruggs' Ballad of Jed Clampett was not only the theme of the silly 1960s sitcom The Beverly Hillbillies, but they deigned to appear on the show! Had they no shame? [Guess not.]

The Essential Earl Scruggs presents an invaluable cross-section of the man, the legend, of course, fine old Earl. Contained herein on this 2-CD package are three tracks of E.S. with Bill Monroe's Bluegrass Boys, a whole bunch with guitarist/singer Lester Flatt, some with the E.S. Revue, a band he had in the 70s with his sons, and some collaborations with Notable Guest Stars. Dig this, purists & grass snobs of all ages: disc one is solid, traditional, no-frills bluegrass, with Scruggs' playing nothing short of stunning. While maintaining a grasp on traditional sounds, he extended the range of the banjo as an instrument as surely as Tommy Dorsey the trombone or Jimi Hendrix/Les Paul/Charlie Christian/Derek Bailey (pick one) the guitar - listen to him on Flint Hill Special (go on, I'll wait) wrest metallic K.O. sounds closer to that of a guitar, dobro or horn. But as Bob Wills so aptly observed, time changes everything - Flatt & Scruggs reached the point of differences irreconcilable: Scruggs wanted to add some more colors to his palette whilst Flatt wanted to musically remain where he was. So Flatt stuck with the trad sound on his own and Scruggs formed a Revue, where he never gave up on bluegrass, but integrated strains of rock and modern folk and country music into it. (That makes E.S. one of the granddaddies of Americana/alt-country, too.) So, there are some Famous/Legendary Guest Stars here: Tom T. Hall, Johnny Cash, the Nitty Gritty Band, Bonnie Bramlett (fantastic gospel-y harmonies) and more - but as great as these folks are, they are the tasty icing on the old family recipe cake(s) that Scruggs baked. And, he was smart enough not to leave it out in the rain, to boot.

Mark Keresman ::(04.04.04).
:: Legacy

Serene UK
The Oak Land EP
( 2004)

"Today I start my revolution, where I am just like you".

I may have just found my new favorite band, because I really don't see myself listening to anything else for quite a while. Seriously - somedays I have to continually shuffle through a small stack of cds before I find one that sparks even a reasonable offer of interest. Well, the latest ep from Serene UK (of NY, US) has certainly sparked an enormous amount of interest - one that begins at the albums initial unveiling 'Margaret's Day Of Fun' to the final plug-pull of 'Copperplate Light'. On the closer 'Copperplate Light', the newly added 'UK' to the Serene name begins to make a bit of sense as the vocals sound very "overseas" - and this is a great thing. This is such a surprise listen, so I am going to cross some lines I normally wouldn't and give you a mix of the sounds I hear: take the instrumentaion of the album leaf & tourmates AAS combined with the vocal likes of Dean Wareham and you are only pulling on the street that Serene UK play on. Combine these choice references with seamless mixing (the mixing of track-to-track is simply impeccable) and the results are one of the most promising albums you are likely to listen to all year. I see it overdone in so many music reviews, but find myself actually applying the technique on this one - the repeat button.

22 minutes of genuine beauty - find this one.

kaleb :: (03.16.04)

Billy Joe Shaver
The Real Deal
( Compadre Records ) 2005

Just for a minute, forget alt-country, progressive country, outlaw country, Americana - once upon a time, there was but country music, and before that it was called "country & western" and "hillbilly." Twenty or 30 years back, Texas honky tonk hero Billy Joe Shaver would be considered one of the latter two, but he's not playing any sort of "retro" angle. (The live disc he did with his late son Eddy, Unshaven is almost punk/blues-rock.) He's simply continuing the continuum of Hank Williams Sr., Marty Robbins, Townes Van Zandt, Lightnin' Hopkins and Willie Nelson - singing detailed songs/stories in a humbly heartfelt, slightly cracked, parched voice that feels as real as wind-driven dust on a dirt road. (Johnny Cash called him "my favorite songwriter.") He sounds like Texas, but small-town Texas, but there's no cowboy braggadocio or yee-haw posturing to this. The instrumentation: sparkling guitars, fiddle, pedal steel, dobro, bass, piano, and (easy-on-the-whomp) drums, and there's a wee touch of Western Swing (that crossbreed of country/western + le jazz du swing) here 'n' there. But it's not about hot solos, it's about the songs and where they take you, enhanced by unfussy, lean production. If you value the aforementioned iconic types, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Butch Hancock, Joe Ely and/or Lucinda Williams and you HAVEN'T heard Shaver, you NEED to. If you're new to all this roots-music stuff, you also need to hear him, yes, indeed. (Essential.)

-Mark Keresman 12.3105

I was a little late in hearing The Shins on their last release Oh Inverted World. I'd read a lot about the group and even heard a couple songs on the release, but like with so many other great releases, I either didn't have the time or the inclination to actually pick up a copy until well over a year it had come out. After I found myself singing along with nearly every track, I wonder how I could have waited so long, and so when Chutes Too Narrow came out, I promptly added it to my collection.

The funny thing is that even after listening to their new release for a month, I could barely make up my mind on the thing. It was as catchy as their first disc, but for some reason it felt so familiar that it wasn't something that stuck with me. At the particular moment the release was spinning in my player, it was one of my favorite releases of the year, but as soon as I took it out the whole thing was gone and I couldn't remember a thing.

Now, it's a little later and I have "Fighting In A Sack" stuck in my head both lyrically and musically. Simply put; if you enjoyed their first release, you'll most likely enjoy this disc as well. In 10 tracks and a super-brisk 33 minutes running time, the group has pumped out enough hummable melodies and memorable lines to have you cranking it on repeat. The aforementioned track is about 2 and a half minutes of pure summer breeze, with strummy guitars intertwining with synth and propulsive drums.

Despite having a lot in common with their first disc, there are some slight variations in sound that make Chutes Too Narrow even better than its predecessor. While their last disc wasn't one big burst of pop from start to finish, it did have quite a bit less variety than this newest disc, which starts out with a spunky 1-2-3 punch of tracks ("Kissing The Lipless," "Mine's Not A High Horse" and "So Says I") before dropping off into the quieter "Young Pilgrims" (which may as well be the title track for the album. "Saint Simon" pulls influences from old-time rock-n-roll (think prom in the 50s) while "Gone For Good" pulls in a touch of pedal steel for a touch of country that works damn well. In fact, the only track that doesn't really do a whole lot for me is the closer of "Those To Come." It's not overly long by any means, but is a bit of a downstep arriving where it does. Another great little album from a group who is yet another feather in the cap of the revitalized Sub Pop.

Rating: 7.75

aaron ::(12/12/03). [ almostcool.org ]

the short happy life
"the album is also called 'the short happy life'"
( www.NFR.com )

Has anyone checked on Jerry Fels lately? Like today.. .?

Things seemed to be going fairly well, in a Moldy Peaches / playful, love hurts kind of way until I fell upon "oh jerry" - the 12th track on the album is also called the short happy life. Then I began to analyze the title of the band and the album, and worry struck. While Jerry is a common name, "oh jerry" tells of a heartbroken, formally healthy man who takes his own life - leaving the narrator (also Jerry - see where I'm going with this?) to plan his attire for the funeral.. . Where Fels seems in no shape to give advice on relationships, he chooses to do just that on "love is for losers": "Only losers fall in love, I thought you knew that by now / You're not a loser are you boy?" Fels states atop a simple organ and subtle cymbal taps. This harsh-yet-honest advice follows a track titled "loving you is a waste of time" - something tells me Jerry has a thorn or two in his bloody heart. These songs are commited to tape primarily in Fels studio / #6 apartment, and the results fall somewhere between the homemade All-Time Quarterback tapes and Lou B's Shrimper catalog - with a wounded heart multiplied by ten. An album that you will either instantly love or painfully reject, "the short happy life" serves as both inspiration and hope.

Can someone please check on Jerry - I want to hear more. Let's make this a longer, bearable life.

kaleb :: (07.25.04)

Sigur Ros
( )
Fat-Cat/ MCA, 2002

So I was originally going to write my entire thoughts about the (untitled) Sigur Ros album in 'kalebgryphics', my own made up review language, but I ditched that idea when I realized it truly deserved words. All-Music Guide starts their review off with "Set the controls for the heart of the sun: Sigur Rós had another baby and they named it ( )." Damn if that ain't the truth. Truth to the matter is "Von" from 1997 is quite possibly the most difficult piece of organized music I have ever attempted to understand. The beyond-brilliant sophomore breakthrough album "Ágætis Byrjun", however, is where the true beauty began, and by now most Tom Cruise fans are familiar with the "it's you-ou-ouhhhhhh" of 'Svefn-G-Englar'. The short on this new album is I recently witnessed my first daughter being born to this strangely alienated, underwater, trip-to-mars of a musical affair, and it all makes much more sense to me now. Not that Sigur Ros are children, aliens or even brine shrimp, they just portray nearly everything that is beautiful to the human ear & eye. " ( ) " & the translucent booklet that occupy the music contained therein are quite possibly the best description of the entity we have grown to know & love as Sigur Ros.
kaleb :: (12.18.02)

sin ropas
trickboxes on the pony line
(sadrobot); 2003

Truth be told, ever since I was struck with the beautifully impressionable tune "daddy's lamp" (from the debut cd 'three cherries') on the CMJ magazine sampler #79 years ago, I have had a long distance love affair with sin ropas. Consisiting of mainstay performers Tim Hurley and Danni Iosello, both of the heavily influential Chicago music scene, this effort plays out a bit more "rock" than the previous cd did. This collection of 8 passages is breathtaking and at the least brilliant. Coming somewhere between a Baxter Dury-meets-Mark Linkous-by way of the saddest Joseph Arthur, Tim Hurley tells his tales in a trailing drawl atop layers of guitars, drums and most of the kitchen sinks oddest inventory thanks to an extremely talented Iosello. Many of these intricate compositions, especially the final 'mays bitter', paint a picture in the mind of a cross-country trip gone awry: the listener stranded alone on a barren stretch of highway, car overheated and temperature beyond bearable, with this lone piece playing on the am radio - at least that's what I see. :: As for the live show, I was so lucky enough to see the sin perform just the other night at tokyo rose, and they pull it off like very few duo's I have seen before. With a variety of delays and pedals, as well as a pump organ and keys - these 2 moved the crowd in quite possibly the strangest way any of them had ever been rocked. At any moment, you could almost imagine that wicked little man from 'twin peaks' in the red room to appear on stage and start talking all backwards and what-not, while the log-lady prances in front of the band and starts a movement. It was that strange, and that beautiful. I asked myself at least 3 times throughout the night, ".. . .what if jack white had danni iosello for just one live show. .. . . ". If you have ever been moved by the music of Sparklehorse [esp. Good Morning Spider], red red meat or Califone and have not yet crossed the likes of 'sin ropas' - get to it.
kaleb. 8.18.03
L i n k s :without clothes

Skeletons & The Girl-Faced Boys
"Git"
( Ghostly | Shinkoyo ) 2005

"You can do backflips and break yr neck and do backflips again.. "

I'm not even quite sure who wrote / crooned that radio hit "Change Clothes" (I'm told it was Jay-Z and a Neptune), but they - as well as "Headphone Master" Cody ChesnuTT need to watch their backs as Skeletons have cranked out a master-jig on the title track "Git" that blends a) shuffled electricity and b) girl-faced white boy harmony to capture one of the c) funkiest dancefloor anthems of the 2K5. Middle school dances will never be the same, so you may as well leave the chairs up in the cafeteria - them kids are gonna be on the tiles.

Skeletons & her Girl-Faced Boys venture on and break into some serious Sigur Rós Von-style aural-essence on "There's a fly in your soup and I put it there" (complete with what 'sounds' to be ghosts spanking other ghosts with wet twigs.. ) that confirms a band and their label can fit nicely into one rare adjective: Ghostly. Most 'unclassified' bands chose to drag in the kitchen sink post-trying everything else, while Skeletons and the Girl-Faced gents cleverly opt to try the fractured instrument firstly on hypo-transit tracks like "You'da been better off if" and "Y'all thinks it's soo easy". The clincher is - it works, and by the titles you'd a think sum'uns been a readin' em some Red Badge of Courage.

As Git and her boys of semiprecious visages come to a close on "Do you feel any better?", we are laid to rest under a gentle sky of feathered giants leaving us to answer the Skeletons cast with a chorus of certainty.

Unpredictability awaits you and yours - now git. Joan of Arc's the Gap best be runnin' for cover - there's a new artistic staple in town.

::k 06.14.05

Sleater-Kinney
The Woods
( Sub>Pop ) 2005

Appreciating Sleater-Kinney's new release The Woods needs nothing but a set of ears. It doesn't need to come with a note explaining the new producer (Dave Fridmann), or the new location (from Washington to rural New York), or the new label (Sub Pop). All it needs is a set of speakers to broadcast opening track "The Fox," a song so heavy and thunderous that to fully explain it, this review would have to be shouted into your ear. But with that opening salvo of grizzled guitar lines and desperately heavy drumming beneath Corin Tucker's Robert Plant-as-female punk rocker wail, Sleater-Kinney deliver an album beyond almost any description beyond "fucking rocking."

However, some of the context helps: tired of treading the same musical ground, Sleater-Kinney packed up to New York to record with David Fridmann in his studio, producing high-tension recording sessions. That tension infiltrates the record, with Tucker's voice often struggling to be heard over the 200-foot guitars and Janet Weiss' Bonham-esque drums, often opting for a primal wail over quieter, more melodic singing. But the one-upsmanship of the musical backing and Tucker's vocals turns into almost a contest of who can outdo whom, the record often sounding like a full-fledged fight.

Despite the tension in the songs and the recording sessions, Sleater-Kinney sound more than comfortable in their new "classic rock" skin, churning out 12 brilliant slabs of rock and roll that contain the ineffable energy that comes when a band pushes themselves to their limit. Highlights like "Jumpers" move easily from poppy melodies to tom-heavy drum hooks and (again) Tucker's flailing vocals, making angular left turns mid-song (like the out-of-nowhere psychedelic guitar break in "What's Yours Is Mine") that less talented bands could never pull off. Other cuts, such as "Wilderness" and "Rollercoaster" update the classic Sleater-Kinney style, suggesting that Fridmann's knob-twiddling has as much to do with the band's new sound as the band members themselves.

Making a record this classic shouldn't be easy - the immediacy of the music almost smells of the blood and tears put into it, and the record, even on the first spin, sounds lived-in and worn, as if the songs were aged by the process of recording them. Sleater-Kinney are now in the company of bands like the White Stripes and Radiohead, whose greatness comes from their willingness to innovate and to move forward; after all, "another Sleater-Kinney record" wouldn’t have been scoffed at. But the band took a bold step in a new, exciting direction and created a stone-cold classic. As long-lasting as it is immediate, Sleater-Kinney have created a record that is both timeless and bracing.

2005's clear frontrunner (so far) for album of the year.

Tyler McCauley 06.20.05

Sluts of Trust
We are all Sluts of Trust
( Chemikal Underground: 2004)

There is something to be learned from duo rock groups. Something like a 50 / 50 split of the profits (after the legal, label and so on).

Sluts of Trust are a duo - and if it wasn't laid out for you in the album credits, you would surely think there were more of 'em. They get the fucking job done - ripping through song after song in a blitzkrieg of guitars & drums. Yeah, I know what your saying, "duo" - but if the majority of freaks out there today were actually doing anything interesting, there would be no bother when you mention the term.

Sluts of Trust come off somewhere along the wrath of Fugazi's The Argument, with less politics and much more passion - this of course being just one way to describe these Sluts. By passion I am referring to such tracks as 'Greatest Gift': "Fuck me baby / Fuck me with your fist". That's passion, motherfucker - get it on, bang a gong passion. Then there are the prized moments where mic fiend John Mcfarlane let's his scot spaz flow, such as 'Tighter than the Night' - sounding like a fuzzed-out Arab Strap after a night of serious wickedness. This guys got pipes too - the falsetto on the delicate 'Dominoes' is enough to convince me this is a promising band with more to offer than clever song titles.

Don't be fooled by all the talk of The Darkness - the name is where the gimmick ends with Sluts of Trust. Surprise.

kaleb :: (06.10.04)

Snoop Dogg
Paid Da Cost To Be Tha Bo$$
Capitol Records / Priority Records, 2002

The album Paid Tha Cost To Be Tha Bo$$ begins with the Italian sounding Don Doggy intro. Then it goes into the mob boss tribute track The Boss Would Like To See You, where snoop dogg keeps mentioning mobb boss names and follows with the boss would like to see you. The next track Stoplight is an excellent song with a real funky beat that was taking from the Funkadelic song Flashlight. Track 4 Is the first released single it is called From Tha Chuuuch to da Palace and it is a great dance song. I Believe In You follows and it has a great r&b/soul sound to it, very good. Track 6 Lollipop has a cool musac beat with a great chorus to boot with great rapping by Jay-Z. Track 7 Ballin has great vocals by the dramatics which makes for a great song. Track 8 Beautiful has a great chorus sung by Uncle Charlie Wilson and a great beat that goes with snoop dogg's rapping. Track 9 Paper'd Up has a woman awing in the background, while snoop says money money money over that then a strong bass kicks with a great soulful chorus in with a cool musac flute sound. Track 10 Wasn't Your Fault is lesson about how you should never treat a hoe good or she will take advantage of you. Track 11 Bo$$ Playa is a song about being a mac at the game of pimpin, has a great 70's soulful sound. Track 12 Hour Glass is a awesome dance song about wanting to get busy on the dance floor hardcore. Track 13 One and Only is about being the one and only snoop d-o-double g. Has a great scratching chorus and an awesome rap beat. Track 14 I Miss That Bitch is about a main ho that left and you fell in love with her and you wish you knew where she was, sounds like a temptations song. Track 15 Long Beach 2 Brick City has great rapping by Redman and an excellent chorus done by Nate Dogg. Track 16 Suited N Booted has a chorus that sounds like a commercial not a strong beat but strong rapping. Track 17 You Got What I Want has a great beat and excellent rapping by Ludacris very good chorus by Uncle Charlie Wilson. Track 18 Batman and Robin is a great song about the dynamic duo. Through out the song Snoop and The Lady of Rage rap over the original sixties batman theme song. This is good song with a strong bass line. Track 19 A Message 2 My Fat Cuzz is a scary sounding song which would work great for halloween Snoop talks over dogs barking, a loud heart beat, people screaming, and thunder. This song teaches you how to earn RESPECT from your enemy. Track 20 Pimp Slap'd is the ending track it uses beats from Flashlight and Rapper's Delight. Good rapping Great Chorus. The song ends with an answering machine message from some guy named Jimbo.

This album was awesome I loved the doggy dog. I rate this album a 9.5. Highly recommended!

Col.Tom Wally and The Goat Farm ::(12.07.02)

Snow Patrol
The Final Straw
( Polydor / Blacklion ); 2003 [ import ]

" Are you ready for the shit to hit / I think you say you are but aren't ".

There are few bands still making music to this day that I can be assured buying their albums will make me happier than I would be without owning them. Two of these few bands are The Reindeer Section & Snow Patrol. Surprising thing is both of these bands are led by heavenly-voiced Glasgowian Gary Lightbody - this guy just knows how put songs together. Returning after a 2 year break from the Snow Patrol crew, finding a new home in label Polydor, and blessing us with a pair of albums from the multi-talented Reindeer Section (also featuring members of B&S, Arab Strap, Mogwai and so on) - this album is such the perfect blend of both outfits it may make you cry. You think I'm kidding, don't you? Songs like 'Somewhere a Clock is Ticking' with it's lines " wage your war / another soldier says he's not afraid to die / well I'm scared " combined with song titles like 'How to be Dead' and 'Grazed Knees' make for a fitting connection to the most lovesick songs from The Reindeer Section. Not trying to put any pressure an you, since your "Best of 2003" list is propably near completion, but just one listen to the seventh track "Run" would change at least one thing. It kicks the ass of "Dear Catastrophe Waitress", that's for sure. I would compare this release to the debut album "Songs for Polarbears", with it's equal mix of "Across the Pond Pop" ( "Starfighter Pilot", "Velocity Girl" ) and knee-dropping melodies ( "Mahogany", "NYC" ) - it's official that Snow Patrol are so greatly underappreciated - why?

   This album has a defined A & B side, with the majority of the first side ( tracks 2 - 5 ) playing the heavier, guitar-driven sound while the remainder of the songs ( including the opener "How to be Dead" ) are the ones that will grab your heart and slow you down - most complete with viola, cellos & violins. This is one of a few albums you will hear in a lifetime that doesn't need to grow on you - but each complete listen reassures the glory that is 'Snow Patrol'. The world could be such a better place if each human only had a little Lightbody in their diets of hatred. [ UK version has exlusive tracks "Gleaming Auction" and the beautiful closer "Same" ] Blessed be the Snow Patrol.

kaleb. 11.23.03

L i n k s :weather watch