Minus The Bear
Menos El Oso
Suicide Squeeze
For a band occasionally outshined by its own fantastic name, hilarious song titles, and excellent graphic-design sense, the eleven tracks comprising MTB's third full-length, Menos El Oso, mark a major step into the light. The first thing you'll notice is the bulletproof production-it's a beautifully recorded album. Absolutely everything is perfectly placed and punctuated. Guitarchitect Dave Knudson (he also of the late, great prog/hardcore band Botch) once again shreds his way to guitar-god status with a multitude of swooping chords and stabbing, finger-tapped riffs. However, this time around he plays less in the lead position, opting instead to step back and provide more structure. It's a wise move, as it allows the band's other elements to shimmer more brightly-namely Matt Bayles' lush keyboard swaths, and the astoundingly intricate interplay between drummer Erin Tate and bassist Cory Murchy. Perhaps most interesting will be the contributions of singer/guitarist Jake Snider. Past songs have generally focused on tales of girls, cigarettes, and aimless driving delivered with a blasà‡ indifference not enjoyed since Karate's Geoff Farina. Yet here Snider often stretches his throat and tackles a few of life's more complex, existential matters. With dazzling musicianship and a clutch of fine lyrics, Minus The Bear is poised to elevate the collective I.Q. of every glitch-hop and indie-pop lover the world over.-Arlie Carstens
Constantines
Tournament Of Hearts
Sub Pop
Four years ago, a friend in Los Angeles said, "Just wait, Canada's gonna be the new Brooklyn!" At the time, the claim seemed a long shot. Though America's indie rockers have always loved underground bands from the UK, sadly or inexplicably, Canada's indie and punk artists have traditionally gotten the brush-off something fierce. For example, the works of groundbreaking commonwealth compatriots like the Nils and Beyond Possession went almost entirely unnoticed by Stateside audiences in their day- which was a total f-king shame. However, that seems to be changing. With The Broken Social Scene, Black Mountain, and Arcade Fire having released three of the best albums of the last three years, my friend's prescient sentiment is, indeed, proving correct. The third proper full-length by the Toronto-based Constantines, Tournament Of Hearts admirably continues this trend. With comforting, world-weary aplomb, the band delivers "buff" riffs, bombastic drums, bold arrangements, and several brutal truths. Sure, they occasionally crib a bit too liberally from The Clash, Fugazi, and Springsteen songbooks, but for the most part this album bests the work of damn near every band mining similar sonic and emotional territory today. Here, you'll find a bevy of political screeds and contemplative odes to work, love, and life's myriad struggles. Regardless of borders and hipster agendas, this album deserves to be heard. Basically, die, Brooklyn, die! Viva la future! Viva Canada!-Arlie Carstens
Black Mountain
Black Mountain
Jagjaguwar
Whether you like their inoffensive, sensitive white-boy anthems or not, Coldplay definitely have its heads in the right place when it comes to picking opening acts for its stadium gigantours. That's right, Black Mountain, the-little-band-that-could from Vancouver, B.C., opened for Coldplay from here to hell and back all summer long. Sure, that's weird, but it's also totally f-king awesome. Because when Black Mountain takes the stage, all them norms waiting to hear "Yellow" ain't gonna know what hit 'em. Even if you don't give one damn about the Velvet Underground, Black Sabbath, or Buffy St. Marie, this band will floor you. Don't argue, don't doubt. Just give Black Mountain a listen, and I guarantee you'll succumb to those mighty drum fills, swooping/crunching riffs, hand claps, tight bass bumps, and soaring, druggy boy/girl vocal harmonies. This shit is genius. It's like stoner rock f people who aren't even trying to make stoner rock, or hell, appeal to stoners. It's just wicked heavy, smart, and beautiful. More than that, it's got soul. It sounds like everything you've ever heard before (Rolling Stones, Neil Young, Buffalo Springfield, Pink Floyd), but without allegiance to any one specific time, place, or corny scene. Note to all you lame-o retro-rockers stinkin' up the airwaves, "Set Us Free" is the soundtrack to your impending irrelevance. A pack of visionary Canadians are kicking your ass. Welcome to the new classic rock.-Arlie Carstens
Pajo
Pajo
Drag City
When guitarist Dave Pajo walked on stage during the Los Angeles stop of Slint's 2005 reunion tour, it was clear he'd come a long way from the nerdy hardcore days of his nowheresville youth. Both Pajo and singer/guitarist Brian McMahon performed like serious-minded musicians in touch with their "instruments." Not a punk or rock-star vibe, but a bona fide guitar-hero vibe. While that sort of vibe usually rubs the wrong way (think Steve Vai), in this instance I was actually moved, even a bit awed. When Slint formed way back in the late 80s, they were just four kids from Louisville, Kentucky. That a little band from such a little place could make such alien, visionary albums was not just amazing but also profoundly encouraging. More than fifteen years on, Tweeze and Spiderland continue to greatly influence our underground music community. Pajo has since busied himself in a one-man game of musical chairs, playing in the jazz-centric Tortoise, Billy Corgan's Zwan, and even a brief stint in ironic metal act Early Man. As well, he's released several solo albums under the monikers M, Ariel M, and Papa M. Today there's Pajo, an album of forlorn lyrical ballads and elegant instrumentals-each track long on austere, Fayhe-inspired folk-tunings, graceful strings, and warm electronic blips. The fact that he made it entirely on a laptop using 40-dollar software is, well, totally absurd but not entirely surprising. This is excellent late-night listening.-Arlie Carstens
DGK Mixtape
If you're like me-and by "like me," I mean you one day hope to have a reverse Michael Jackson procedure done-then Simply Destruction is for you. And don't think that when I write, "reverse Michael Jackson" I'm talking about a sexual act with a minor. That's not the case. Rather, it's having your skin turned from white to black, instead of the whole black-to-white deal he's got going on. Thanks to DGK and Reebok, along with DJ Green Lantern formerly with Shady Records, more young white males like myself are one step closer to fulfilling this dream. The CD starts out with Stevie Williams letting it be known far and wide that DGK and Reebok are essentially "coming for that ass" in regard to the skateboard industry. Perhaps a DGK takeover is not too far off. Stevie has a few more verbal assaults during the CD, and between those come the real jams. ODB, Busta Rhymes, Jay-Z, Junior Mafia, The Game, Tupac, Camron, and Biggie are a few of the different MCs to spit some fire on this, but the true jam comes in the form of track five, otherwise known as Styles P's "I'm Black." If you haven't heard this before, the title of the track is repeated in epic proportions throughout the whole song, on an average of every sentence and a half. That alone is enough to require purchase of this album. I recommend you go to your nearest skate shop and buy this CD. And after you do this, if you have half a brain in your head, you'll go home and (assuming you're white) go into your room, put on "I'm Black," turn off all your lights, look into the mirror at your newly darkened figure, and smile.-Boosh
Dungen
Ta Det Lugnt
Kemado Records
Way back in 2004, the online music 'zine Pitchforkmedia.com opined: "Despite the constant influx of catchphrase-coordinated marketing campaigns that would lead you to believe that life-affirming records are released daily, it's forever rare to stumble upon one as consistently mind-blowing and aesthetically far-reaching as Dungen's Ta Det Lugnt." True that. Record labels, publicists, and even reviews columns (sure, this one here included) are at times guilty of bestowing lofty praise on work that is ultimately subpar at best. Frequently, even an album that sounds special today, over time will prove to be no tastier than all the other retreads and flavors of the month. But in this case, Pitchforkmedia.com got it 100-percent right. Dungen's debut album is, indeed, a mind-blowing tour de force of Swedish psychedelic folk rock. And where I'd usually run real fast in the opposite direction of anything sung entirely in Swedish and termed "psychedelic folk rock," in this instance I'm totally absorbed. While Ta Det Lugnt certainly borrows from bygone sounds (primarily 70s Krautrock giants Can and Faust), it is not so terribly derivative as to be merely an exercise in aping. On the contrary, it's exhilarating, inventive, and damn beautiful. That it was created entirely by one person-24-year-old, Gustav Ejstes-makes it all the more amazing. Previously only available as a wallet-busting import, Ta Det Lugnt is finally seeing release in the U.S. (with five bonus tracks) through Kemado Records. Get brave, get weird.-Arlie Carstens
Dutch Dub
Dutch Dub
Record Collection
Though best known for his work as drummer for Matador's Pretty Girls Make Graves, Dutch Dub is almost 100 percent the brainchild of multi-instrumentalist Nick Dewitt. After acquiring his first four-track in 1999, Dewitt began the project while living in the quiet, college hippie town of Bellingham, Washington. Five years later, thanks to things like Apple Macs and portable audio software, Dewitt has slowly morphed those earliest four-track experiments into an album of surprisingly engaging songs. But don't let the name mislead you-this isn't dub. Apart from track four, "Peanut Butter And Jelly Heart" (with its lovely use of reverb-soaked melodica, walking bass lines, steady rim shots, and delicate xylophone leads- think Kraftwerk cheekily deconstructing Kingston down-tempo), there's not a whole lot of weed-huffing happening here. Deftly stacking a combination of programmed beats and samples, live drums, delayed guitar figures, organs, and various percussive instruments, Dutch Dub has carved an ingenious niche for himself somewhere between minimalist dark wave and, say, Modest Mouse at their most caterwauling. Though the album rocks a steady lo-fi vibe throughout, many of these songs could sit comfortably alongside any early 80s album in your collection-New Order bass lines, syncopated beats, sampled crowd cheers, and all. This is the sound of a talented man having fun.-Arlie Carstens
Of Montreal
The Sunlandic Twins
Polyvinyl Records
Of Montreal's headmaster (and Elephant 6-alum) Kevin Barnes is arguably the most prolific songwriter/multi-instrumentalist working today, producing twelve increasingly lavish recordings in just under nine years. That the band isn't more celebrated within the American indie-rock pantheon is either A) criminal, B) entirely deserved, or C) about to end with arrival of The Sunlandic Twins. Where previous efforts relied too heavily on a Beach Boys Pet Sounds-infatuation, the newest marks a bona fide glitch-pop masterpiece. Cleverly mashing Fame-era Bowie rock 'n' roll with IDM beats and Broadway-worthy pizzazz, The Sunlandic Twins is both immediately gratifying and, yes, pretentious as all hell. Indeed, "I Was Never Young" may be the greatest song Bowie or Stereolab never wrote. Best lyric: "We made love like a pair of black wizards"-enough said.
The CD includes an equally dazzling four-song bonus E.P.-Arlie Carstens
Love As Laughter
Laughter's Fifth
Sub Pop Records
This Love As Laughter album is great. After eleven years and five albums, the ramshackle sometime-solo/sometime-ensemble project headed by singer/guitarist Sam Jayne has truly made a great album. Evern one as consistently mind-blowing and aesthetically far-reaching as Dungen's Ta Det Lugnt." True that. Record labels, publicists, and even reviews columns (sure, this one here included) are at times guilty of bestowing lofty praise on work that is ultimately subpar at best. Frequently, even an album that sounds special today, over time will prove to be no tastier than all the other retreads and flavors of the month. But in this case, Pitchforkmedia.com got it 100-percent right. Dungen's debut album is, indeed, a mind-blowing tour de force of Swedish psychedelic folk rock. And where I'd usually run real fast in the opposite direction of anything sung entirely in Swedish and termed "psychedelic folk rock," in this instance I'm totally absorbed. While Ta Det Lugnt certainly borrows from bygone sounds (primarily 70s Krautrock giants Can and Faust), it is not so terribly derivative as to be merely an exercise in aping. On the contrary, it's exhilarating, inventive, and damn beautiful. That it was created entirely by one person-24-year-old, Gustav Ejstes-makes it all the more amazing. Previously only available as a wallet-busting import, Ta Det Lugnt is finally seeing release in the U.S. (with five bonus tracks) through Kemado Records. Get brave, get weird.-Arlie Carstens
Dutch Dub
Dutch Dub
Record Collection
Though best known for his work as drummer for Matador's Pretty Girls Make Graves, Dutch Dub is almost 100 percent the brainchild of multi-instrumentalist Nick Dewitt. After acquiring his first four-track in 1999, Dewitt began the project while living in the quiet, college hippie town of Bellingham, Washington. Five years later, thanks to things like Apple Macs and portable audio software, Dewitt has slowly morphed those earliest four-track experiments into an album of surprisingly engaging songs. But don't let the name mislead you-this isn't dub. Apart from track four, "Peanut Butter And Jelly Heart" (with its lovely use of reverb-soaked melodica, walking bass lines, steady rim shots, and delicate xylophone leads- think Kraftwerk cheekily deconstructing Kingston down-tempo), there's not a whole lot of weed-huffing happening here. Deftly stacking a combination of programmed beats and samples, live drums, delayed guitar figures, organs, and various percussive instruments, Dutch Dub has carved an ingenious niche for himself somewhere between minimalist dark wave and, say, Modest Mouse at their most caterwauling. Though the album rocks a steady lo-fi vibe throughout, many of these songs could sit comfortably alongside any early 80s album in your collection-New Order bass lines, syncopated beats, sampled crowd cheers, and all. This is the sound of a talented man having fun.-Arlie Carstens
Of Montreal
The Sunlandic Twins
Polyvinyl Records
Of Montreal's headmaster (and Elephant 6-alum) Kevin Barnes is arguably the most prolific songwriter/multi-instrumentalist working today, producing twelve increasingly lavish recordings in just under nine years. That the band isn't more celebrated within the American indie-rock pantheon is either A) criminal, B) entirely deserved, or C) about to end with arrival of The Sunlandic Twins. Where previous efforts relied too heavily on a Beach Boys Pet Sounds-infatuation, the newest marks a bona fide glitch-pop masterpiece. Cleverly mashing Fame-era Bowie rock 'n' roll with IDM beats and Broadway-worthy pizzazz, The Sunlandic Twins is both immediately gratifying and, yes, pretentious as all hell. Indeed, "I Was Never Young" may be the greatest song Bowie or Stereolab never wrote. Best lyric: "We made love like a pair of black wizards"-enough said.
The CD includes an equally dazzling four-song bonus E.P.-Arlie Carstens
Love As Laughter
Laughter's Fifth
Sub Pop Records
This Love As Laughter album is great. After eleven years and five albums, the ramshackle sometime-solo/sometime-ensemble project headed by singer/guitarist Sam Jayne has truly made a great album. Every last song is great! While I can't give one goddamn for most of today's retro-rockin' shenanigan-bands, I just gotta say, this thing is wonderful. Laughter's Fifth sounds like Neil Young and Harry Nilsson in-studio with the New York Dolls (bathrobes and bottomless pitchers of vodka and O.J. included). When not busy getting awesome in his own right, Jayne's occasionally been tapped to collaborate with like-minded folks such as Modest Mouse and Beck. With wit and panache, he outshines them both. Love As Laughter's L-train out of Brooklyn has finally arrived. Get on board.-Arlie Carstens
Mercury Rev
The Secret Migration
V2
In just the same way we're all supposed to smile at the warm, fuzzy thought of a new Flaming Lips or Wilco album (yawn), so it goes with Mercury Rev. Akin to their peers, 70 percent of Mercury Rev's cache derives from a folkloric retelling of the members' manifold addictions, label woes, and bouts with mental illness (as opposed to, say, any honest assessment of the latest material). With each outing, crit-nerds and Kool-Aid-quaffing fans alike sigh, "This is important music." But I'll tell ya straight-that story (you know the one) about how original vocalist David Baker tried to gouge guitarist "Grasshopper" Mackowiack's eye out with a spoon will assuredly live longer than anything off The Secret Migration. Though longtime collaborator Dave Fridmann's production is majestic as ever, Rev's sixth album offers little more than saccharine sentiments and Coldplay-esque piano dirges. This is no Deserter's Songs.-Arlie Carstens
Six Organs Of Admittance
Schools Of The Flower
Drag City
At first glance Six Organs Of Admittance is folk-inspired, largely acoustic, and fairly subdued. These dudes are sneaky bastards, though, because just beneath this innocuous veneer is something that's decidedly sinister.
Schools Of The Flower is like a classic post-killing-spree interview with a murderer's neighbors. An overweight woman in a bathrobe talking into the news crew's camera, saying "He was so quiet. I never imagined he was skinning people alive and eating their livers. I never suspected a thing!"
That's how it is, though-the proverbial loner, never bothering anyone until the voices in his head suddenly become too powerful to ignore. Then, suddenly, arrrghh, arrrrggghh (limbs flailing everywhere, rapid cutting with a very sharp knife)!
Enmeshed with the acoustic-guitar finger picking and falsetto vocals of this album is something that could terrify you in the middle of the night. Brooding, haunted synth soundscapes start to emerge every now and then, poking their bloodshot eyes out from behind a thick veil of midnight regret and failed potential.
At times, this is very hard stuff to deal with. God help me if I ever find myself going for a late-night drive with this on the stereo. I would know exactly what the Geto Boys meant when they were rapping about your mind drifting while you're driving, having fatal thoughts of suicide (it rhymes in the song). Speaking of which, I wonder what Bushwick Bill is up to these days. Man, that little midget sure could rap. Bless you, Bushwick Bill, wherever you are.-Andreas Trolf
Navies
An Estate
Lovitt Records
One of the big problems I have with contemporary punk and hardcore is that there are generally three routes by which it has diverged from traditional punk and hardcore (which isn't to say that "traditional punk and hardcore" doesn't have a massive range of sounds, but just bear with me, okay?).
You've got: 1. Punk bands that're really pop bands pretending to be punk by shouting loudly and pogoing and being really obnoxious. This is basically what you would expect to hear blaring out of mall stores like Hot Topic. Avoid these bands at all costs; 2. Hardcore bands that have devolved into whining and ear-grating semi-riffs, forgetting that it's generally better to be angry than to be sad. They also seem to believe that hardcore and me
