Album-art-for-BE-by-Beady-Eye Beady Eye – BE

★½☆☆☆

After 2011′s underwhelming debut, Different Gear, Still Speeding, Beady Eye promised an adventurous change of plot for its second release, BE.

Singer Liam Gallagher and his cohorts enlisted Dave Sitek of TV on the Radio for a reinvigorating musical makeover, but it’s a curious pairing.

Sitek, an indie-producer du jour, recorded the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, the Foals, and even Scarlett Johansson’s album of Tom Waits covers. Beady Eye, featuring 4/5 members of Oasis, is rooted in the sounds of its retro predecessors, The Kinks and The Rolling Stones.

On BE, this unlikely partnership adds everything from iPhone apps to organs and complex psychedelic rhythms to create an incongruous, yet often intriguing, sound. It’s an ambitious step forward, but all this talk of progress falls flat, as the band sees experimenting merely as a buzzword.

“We’ve experimented or whatever it is. What more do you fucking want?” Gallagher said in response to some skeptical Oasis fans boycotting Beady Eye.

The uneven effort kicks off with “Flick of the Finger,” a thrilling stomper with a drum line nearly nicked from the Velvet Underground’s “I’m Waiting for the Man.” A rush of horns and fuzzed guitars fills the song as Gallagher sings, “You’re gonna tell me that you hear every word I say, but the future gets written today.”

There’s a spirit of revolution guiding the song, which closes with British comedian Kayvan Novak quoting a passage from Tariq Ali’s book, Street Fighting Years: An Autobiography of the Sixties.

It’s an artful composition matched only by the second single, “Second Bite of the Apple,” brimming with bright horns alongside trippy bass grooves and bells. “Shake my tree/Where’s the apple for me?/Tickle my feet with the NME,” Gallagher sings.

But no matter how many unconventional recording ideas Sitek throws into the mix, the album is ultimately shortchanged by a lack of songwriting imagination.

A trio of songs —“Iz Rite,” “I’m Just Saying,” and “Face the Crowd”— are rote Oasis rockers surrounded by ballads that never reveal Beady Eye’s “experimental nature.” “Don’t Brother Me” is a seven-minute space oddity in which Liam pleads with his feuding brother and ex-Oasis songwriter, Noel Gallagher, to “give peace a chance” before admonishing him for “lying, scheming, and crying.” Three minutes later, the song downshifts into an unfocused jam of sitars and strings.

There’s not much to speak of lyrically with this effort, as the words range from the nonsensical (“Yes, you’re not wrong/She wants to know what’s in your pocket”) to the cliché (“Life is short/Don’t be shy.”) As always, Gallagher sings with conviction and unwavering belief in these songs, and it’s that Gallagher bravado that led to the decision of keeping his voice bare and free of studio effects.

It’s a shame that a combination of cigarettes and alcohol, along with years of hard touring, rendered Gallagher’s nasally Johnny Rotten-like snarl into a caricature.

On the muddling “Soul Love,” Gallagher sounds like he’s singing from a vinyl recorder, and he aims for a wounded vulnerability that never materializes on “Ballroom Figured.”

For all its blustering talk of evolution, Beady Eye sounds like a band stuck looking backward. Different Gear, Still Speeding was a rushed collection of discarded Oasis tunes and ideas that failed to excite Beady Eye’s built-in fan base. BE is the work of a band stumbling to form an identity outside of Oasis and unsure of where to go next.

Beady Eye – BE tracklist:

  1. “Flick of the Finger”
  2. “Soul Love”
  3. “Face the Crowd”
  4. “Second Bite of the Apple”
  5. “Soon Come Tomorrow”
  6. “Iz Rite”
  7. “I’m Just Saying”
  8. “Don’t Brother Me”
  9. “Shine a Light”
  10. “Ballroom Figured”
  11. “Start Anew”
Album-art-for-The-Features-by-The-Features The Features – The Features

★★★☆☆

As The Features’ second, self-titled album fades in with opening track “Rotten,” a drum roll and bass line slowly promenade over airy strings, and lead singer Matt Pelham sings softly. That mellow mood is lifted when a heavy guitar and choppy electric piano forcefully move in.

The Features’ distinct approach is at its height during this ethereal song, which comes full circle as the music calms and the promenade moves back in, only to quickly fall away into “Tenderly.”

“Tenderly” has opposing sides, with sections that punch out of the tender vocals in clever opposition. The Features has been releasing albums since 1997, and the indie veterans know how to control their sound and feed Pelham’s lyrical ideas. “Tenderly” ends with the classic hold-the-last-chord-of-the-song strategy, and in its wake the simple drum beat of “This Disorder” begins.

That beat continues as Pelham steps in, asking, “Is this the way that I should feel?” An electric organ swells, queuing every instrument to rush in, and above it all hangs a simple country-blues lick paired with electronic chirps. It is a well executed and strikingly odd blend.

The Features’ second album has a cohesive flow—every unanticipated jump in sound bleeds seamlessly to the next. The 19 years of inspiration and development pay off in The Features’ mature sound.

Having lived through the decade, The Features’ seasoned sound glistens with a 1980s sheen at times, and comes complete with semi-cheesy synth tones, too. Pelham definitely takes a page from Morrissey on “In Your Arms,” and “With Every Beat” has glossy, twinkling synths that carry the song and wouldn’t be out of place on a Tears for Fears album.

The throwback vibe continues with “The New Romantic,” with slightly shouted vocals akin to David Byrne, dancey beats weaved with the snaps of a woodblock, and funky synth lines that would make any Talking Heads fan turn an ear.

Whether The Features is settling a storm with country-blues licks, or delving into pop-sensible indie rock, its unique influences are always peeking out of the music. The Features is memorable and well-written, but even in light of the album’s diversity, its catchy confines exclude The Features in conversation about pushing music in new directions.

The Features – The Features tracklist:

  1. “Rotten”
  2. “Tenderly”
  3. “This Disorder”
  4. “Won’t Be Long”
  5. “Fox on the Run”
  6. “With Every Beat”
  7. “Ain’t No Wonder”
  8. “The New Romantic”
  9. “In Your Arms”
  10. “Regarding PG”
  11. “Phase Too”
Album-art-for-Cold-Spring-Fault-Less-Youth-by-Mount-Kimbie Mount Kimbie – Cold Spring Fault Less Youth

★★½☆☆

The English have always known how to rock the house. British punk and alt-rock has led the way for innovative techniques and genres to form over the course of the last 30 years or so, but across the channel, European music developed a slightly different style.

Club, dance, house, and electro have long dominated the continental music scene, and it took awhile for it catch on in Merry Ol’ England. Mount Kimbie can be seen as a spillover of these traditions. Formed in 2008, the electronic duo set out to imitate the sounds of other electronic artists, and failed in faking it. But with its sophomore album, Cold Spring Fault Less Youth, Mount Kimbie comes out with its own sound that sets it apart from British and European artists alike.

“Home Recording,” “So Many Times, So Many Ways,” and “Made To Stray” are perfect poster-boy songs for Mount Kimbie. They all incorporate the same predictable pattern of beats, rhythms, and electronic melodies that varies rarely throughout the album.

They begin simply, with minimalist beats and syncopated ticks, building more instrumental layers as time goes on. Rarely are vocals and lyrics utilized at all, which gives the tracks, with their seemingly meaningful titles, an empty feeling at times.

With the removal of lyrics, the portrayal of emotion can become difficult, and Mount Kimbie fails to get its message across. Just a little more explanation of what the duo is attempting to express would allow its work to have a greater impact on listeners. Mount Kimbie should try to avoid the image of faux-intelligentsia by adding something to increase the depth of its music.

It’s alright to experiment and try to innovate, but art has a purpose: to purge emotion and free the observer. If Mount Kimbie cannot relate to an audience, then the members’ position and title as “artists” ought to be challenged.

However, the album is not without strong moments. King Krule is featured on “You Took Your Time” and “Meter, Pale, Tone” as a guest rapper, and his slow and steady style blends perfectly with the album’s geometric ensemble. His dry wit and calm lyrics stand out next to the ceaseless clicks and beeps that capture the essence of other tracks, extenuating that unique sound that you know is there, but isn’t always realized. It’s that deeper something necessary to reach the potential that the listener can sense is somewhere underneath the vast emptiness of the album.

It would appear that Mount Kimbie fell into the dreaded “sophomore slump” with Cold Spring Fault Less Youth. However, the duo has made notable progress in developing its own place in British and electronic music. It’s a disappointingly small step, but there is hope for the sullen pair.

While Cold Spring easily becomes a monotonous jumble, certain musical moments excellently showcase Mount Kimbie’s ability to craft a composition that can really be enjoyed by an audience. Keep a look out for the duo in the future, because there is absolutely something there, a hidden potential just waiting to come out of its musical cocoon and soar.

Mount Kimbie – Cold Spring Fault Less Youth tracklist:

  1. “Home Recording”
  2. “You Took Your Time (feat. King Krule)”
  3. “Break Well”
  4. “Blood and Form”
  5. “Made To Stray”
  6. “So Many Times, So Many Ways”
  7. “Lie Near”
  8. “Meter, Pale, Tone (feat. King Krule)”
  9. “Slow”
  10. “Sullen Ground”
  11. “Fall Out”
Album-Art-For-Vampire-Weekend-Modern-Vampires-Of-The-City Vampire Weekend – Modern Vampires of The City

★★★★☆

Famed NYC indie-rock outfit Vampire Weekend often reflects on its simultaneous media presences—as beloved musicians and victims of typecasted scrutiny. Regarding its initial fame for 2008’s self-titled debut, frontman Ezra Koenig explains that Vampire Weekend got lumped into an Afrobeat Indie-Pop tag almost immediately, and the band has subsequently struggled with the notion of categorization in its production processes.

Having found clarity in the three and a half years since Vampire Weekend’s second release, Contra, Koenig explained in an interview with CBS, “If you can just psych yourself up about your creative ambitions and not worry about the commercial or career ambitions, then you’ll be okay. You won’t disappoint yourself, probably.” The new release marks a shift in the band’s style, and Vampire Weekend’s candid publicity regarding Modern Vampires of the City’s conclusive existence is as blunt with itself as its lyrical themes are with us.

“Diane Young,” a title play on dying young, was Modern Vampires of the City’s first and most appropriate single to convey the album’s theme. Koenig sings, “Irish and proud, baby, naturally/But you got the luck of a Kennedy/So grab the wheel, keep on holding it tight/’Til you’re tottering off into that goodnight.” Living fast in the moment because time truly flies is one of Koenig’s key lessons in Modern Vampires. He seems to have become overwhelmingly aware of this after returning home from Vampire Weekend’s most recent tour.

Themes of finality and interpretive religious undertones permeate through the lines, “I want to know, does it bother you?/The low click of a ticking clock/There’s a headstone right in front of you/God’s loves die young, are you ready to go?” Church organs provide backdrop to the intro of “Don’t Lie,” part of an emerging theme in an album screaming to be heard on a tape with two sides.

Koenig is openly agnostic, but references God, fate, and death in almost every track.

In “Unbelievers,” he sings, “Girl, you and I will die unbelievers, bound to the tracks of the train.” Koenig’s youth on tour surely influenced this flaunting of his agnostic freedom. However, it also warns his senses and shapes his lyrical themes, which lean toward the imminently symbolic death of boyhood.

“Obvious Bicycle” opens Modern Vampires of the City on a thoughtful, slightly despondent note. Koenig sings vaguely about a speculative approach to trust, reputation, and the age-old advice for the ambitious: “Don’t wait.” The song hosts a gospel of harmonies and light piano underscores, a soft and cautious introduction to the energetic Vampire Weekend that’s scored the group three chart-topping albums and above-average indie-rock attention for the past six years.

Vampire Weekend’s members have noticeably grown into fuller, denser musicians since their post-grad emergence in 2008. Fan favorite “Ya Hey” embodies a captivating use of Vampire Weekend’s less urgent side, creating a song that sounds like something they might have been searching for this whole time. Productions still carry the signature quick-beat drums and energetic instrumental placements, though; to say that this band and Koenig’s voice will ever fully regenerate their cells is impossible to imagine.

Vampire Weekend – Modern Vampires Of The City tracklist:

  1. “Obvious Bicycle”
  2. “Unbelievers”
  3. “Step”
  4. “Diane Young”
  5. “Don’t Lie”
  6. “Hannah Hunt”
  7. “Everlasting Arms”
  8. “Finger Back”
  9. “Worship You”
  10. “Ya Hey”
  11. “Hudson”
  12. “Young Lion”
Album-art-for-Talon-of-the-Hawk-by-The-Front-Bottoms The Front Bottoms – Talon of the Hawk

★½☆☆☆

These days, the term “folk” is being thrown around for anything that involves an acoustic guitar. So when The Front Bottoms gets tagged as “folk-punk,” as oxymoronic as it sounds, it fits. The two-piece out of New Jersey matches punk riffed out on acoustic guitars with savvy leads on everything from a classically folk accordion to modern tinged synth lines. The attentive songwriting done by Brian Sella is certainly appetizing, but Talon of the Hawk dries up in repetitiveness when The Front Bottoms’ simplicity leaves so much room for expansion.

The opening track, “Au Revoir,” sets a precedent for Talon of the Hawk. In the simple beginning, Sella plays his acoustic like a bass guitar and sings about miscommunication with his ex-lover. He then blasts in heavier, singing, “Rock and roll, rock and roll,” reaching for recognition in a world of punks that need something “rocking” to latch to. This structure gets copied and pasted onto most of Talon of the Hawk, and, truly, younger crowds can’t get enough of this.

Tracks like “Twin Size Mattress” are a teenage dream. Cutesy lyrics like, “Be sure to kiss your knuckle before you punch me in the face,” and, “They cut your hair and sent you away/with tears in my eyes I begged you to stay,” are draped around ultra-catchy riffs that are made to stick in the heads of any college freshman looking for a rebellious-but-relatable fix. All of Talon of the Hawk is filled with lyrics that mix the tough with the loving, in a completely pre-packaged way.

At the beginning of “I Swear To God The Devil Made Me Do It,” a chunk of swelling and fluctuating buzzes warps for 10 seconds before the song starts and Sella sings, “Space age crystals, I’ve been growing them since I was a kid.” Those 10 seconds are the only exciting and experimental moment on Talon of the Hawk.

Inversely, the whole album is completely accessible to anyone who gravitates to compact, high energy songs with a pop sensibility, or fans of folk-punk who are looking for something middle-of-the-road to cleanse the palette. The Front Bottoms blend memorable hooks over acoustic riffs that Sella cranks out song in, song out, and if this is your style then Talon of the Hawk is your album.

This recent rise of folk music has brought a certain silly thing to the lime-light: the participatory exclamation! This is often a “HEY,” an “OH,” or “HO,” placed in a rest during a powerful moment. The Front Bottoms used the oh-so-original trick on “Santa Monica,” showing the group has more than just a knack for the appealing; it has a gift for the catchy.

Sella is a great songwriter and his drumming counterpart, Matthew Uychich, feels every movement and guides the songs in the one direction they can go. This expectable sound isn’t aided by repetitious lyrical themes alongside basic song structures. On the final track, “Everything I Own,” Sella belts out, “Sometimes I don’t feel like singing, I don’t really like these songs,” one can understand why Sella might get worn out on his own music—some of us are getting worn out after the first listen.

The Front Bottoms – Talon of the Hawk tracklist:

  1. “Au Revoir”
  2. “Skeleton”
  3. “I Swear TO God The Devil Made Me Do It”
  4. “Twin Sized Mattress”
  5. “Peach”
  6. “Santa Monica”
  7. “The Feud”
  8. “Funny You Should Ask”
  9. “Tattooed Tears”
  10. “Lone Star”
  11. “Back Flip”
  12. “Everything I Own”
Album-Art-for-Didn't-It-Rain-by-Hugh-Laurie Hugh Laurie – Didn’t It Rain

★★★★½

In the year since the wildly popular medical drama House, M.D. ended its run, British actor Hugh Laurie hasn’t been idle. The multi-dimensional performer—having collected armfuls of awards and a Guinness Book title for playing the cantankerous-yet-pure-genius American diagnostician Gregory House—instead reached into his bag of tricks, proving the man can do more than just pull off a damn good American accent. Many actors today claim the duo title of musician, but few—if any—can pull it off like Laurie.

Sure, we saw House tickle the ivories and play a few guitar licks from time to time, but those fleeting moments of television cannot compare to Laurie’s extensive musical repertoire, as he demonstrates on Didn’t It Rain, his second studio album of traditional blues standards and other genres like jazz and R&B.

A man with the vocal and instrumental talents of Laurie’s caliber could have chosen to take the lead on every song, but he steps aside on many tunes, allowing guest vocalists like Gaby Moreno to take the reins when appropriate. Moreno’s and Laurie’s sensual duet of the popular Argentine tango “Kiss of Fire” causes listeners to fall in love with Laurie all over again, this time as the protagonist of music and not as a substance-addicted, snarky doctor who somehow still manages to save lives in a 45-minute, ever-climatic TV show.

Speaking of drugs, two songs on Didn’t It Rain—”Junkers Blues” and “The Weed Smoker’s Dream”—offer a throwback to Dr. House’s steady relationship with Vicodin. But neither, of course, is an original penned by Laurie; “Junkers Blues” is a classic that’s been worked and reworked throughout the decades and “The Weed Smoker’s Dream” is also known as “Why Don’t You Do It Right.”

Laurie puts his acting roots to good use in “Junkers Blues,” throwing so much emotion behind every syllable that listeners can sense the pain of the narrator’s addiction, just as they could see Dr. House limping in pain on his bad leg and experiencing emotional turmoil until he popped a couple of pills.

Just as Laurie’s extensive acting abilities were concealed in the United States until the past decade (he was already an established star in the United Kingdom with his comedy partner Stephen Fry), listeners who missed Laurie’s 2011 debut Let Them Talk will experience surprise after surprise on Didn’t It Rain.

Perhaps listeners will even ask themselves, “Why doesn’t this guy quit acting full-time and allow his music to take top priority, instead of the other way around?”

The only downfall to enjoying Laurie’s music—and it’s a limited flaw—is his voice. The smoky, roughened vocals are an acquired taste, just as the fact that the star of one of the most popular American dramas was really British took some getting used to. We adjusted once; we can do it again, setting our ears to enjoy Hugh’s blues.

Some of the album’s 13 tracks will likely turn living-room carpets into dance floors, making the couch-ridden think they are aspiring tango stars. Even as “Changes,” the album’s closing tune that starts slowly and sleepily, picks up, listeners can sigh and tap their toes happily to the clarinet, perhaps realizing for the first time that they are a fan of blues music.

Laurie sings, “The world goes on the same,” all while inspiring a new generation of blues followers and reinvigorating songs that are sadly only readily known in certain clusters of America. Let the House persona rest for a bit—switch off the reruns, allow the rain to fall outside, and listen to a well-interpreted collection of blues standards that, along the way, influenced today’s rock and roll.

Hugh Laurie – Didn’t It Rain tracklist:

  1. “The St. Louis Blues”
  2. “Junkers Blues”
  3. “Kiss of Fire”
  4. “Vicksburg Blues”
  5. “The Weed Smoker’s Dream”
  6. “Wild Honey”
  7. “Send Me To The ‘Lectric Chair”
  8. “Evenin'”
  9. “Didn’t It Rain”
  10. “Careless Love”
  11. “One For My Baby”
  12. “I Hate A Man Like You”
  13. “Changes”
Album-art-for-Trouble-Will-Find-Me-by-The-National The National – Trouble Will Find Me

★★★★½

After a 14-year career, you’d think The National would be feeling pretty secure by now. The success of its tour for High Violet should have launched the group into the stratosphere of success and bloated the ego just a smidgen. Yet, The National couldn’t even give in to the mainstream world’s cult of fame. Trouble Will Find Me, released this May, is a manifesto of artistic vision and the members’ feeling of maturity. Guitarist Aaron Dessner adds that “sleep deprivation” was also a muse for the record’s somber ballads.

“I Should Live In Salt” illustrates straight away that although The National has achieved what its members see as ultimate proof of who they are, there still is a sense of insecurity and anxiety looming just around the corner. The promise is made that all anxious emotion will be dissected and sewn back together in an attempt to understand how and why we are often so miserable.

Trouble Will Find Me is a thesis tackling the human condition. The National attempts to explain anxiety and emotional thought, as if reaching out, trying to find someone who understands. It’s an ingeniously relatable piece of work.

While seeking inspiration and influences, members of the band reached back to the classics. It’s amazing how prevalent those old school tricks are in some of the songs, yet how effortlessly that alt-rock sound pours out. David Bowie, Morrissey, Cat Stevens, Neil Young, and Roy Orbison are all mentioned as inspiration for The National’s languid opus. Guitar riffs and heart-pounding cymbal crash drum beats all bring a smashing hammer of nostalgic greatness down on  the ears.

“Fireproof” delves into an expression of heartfelt emotion. “You’re fireproof/I wish I was that way” enhances the suffering image of the lonely man who has every reason to be happy.  Its tempo is tepid and its smoggy keyboard casts a drearily refreshing melody on top of the eloquent lyrics. It often seems as though the people around us are invulnerable and above the fray of reality, while we alone dive into the abyss and wrestle with what no one wants to face. “Fireproof” stands out because it captures the essence of the record’s core ideal: Everyone deals with life in different ways, but it would be easier for us all if we understood how we each face it.

Luckily, The National doesn’t summon a rainy day in each song. “Sea of Love” may be slightly melancholy, but there’s hope in it: “If I stay here, trouble will find me/If I stay here, I’ll never leave.” It opens brightly, but quickly descends down a staircase of bittersweet chords.  Its sound surrounds the listener in happiness, but it’s akin to being left on a sunny island that seems to always be overcast with the loneliness of a gray string timbre.

This brief glimpse, however, is not enough to do Trouble Will Find Me justice. It is highly recommended that this album, as with all other albums reviewed, be listened to in its entirety. Musical gems are easy to find in this dank cave of anxiety.

Similar albums would be deemed repetitive, but the subject matter The National addresses is a rich tapestry of emotion, woven with the great complexity of human personality. The true value of the album lies in the knowledge that one day, one of these songs could help you understand what’s going on in your own world.

We try to simplify our thoughts and feelings, but in reality, each emotion is heavier than we’d like to admit. Each song on Trouble Will Find Me grasps certain aspects of anxiety and insecurity that are all a part of the same experience, but need to be understood on their own before the holistic portrait can be painted.

The National – Trouble Will Find Me tracklist:

  1. “I Should Live In Salt”
  2. “Demons”
  3. “Don’t Swallow The Cap”
  4. “Fireproof”
  5. “Sea of Love”
  6. “Heavenfaced”
  7. “This Is The Last Time”
  8. “Graceless”
  9. “Slipped”
  10. “I Need My Girl”
  11. “Humiliation”
  12. “Pink Rabbits”
  13. “Hard To Find”
Album-art-for-From-the-Hills-Below-the-City-by-Houndmouth Houndmouth – From the Hills Below the City

★★★½☆

Mumford & Sons and Kings of Leon present a fantastic economic opportunity for bands like Houndmouth. The New Albany, Indiana (just outside of Loiusville) quartet isn’t so different from the scads of folk-rock bands that have filled out festival lineups for the past half decade: Blitzen Trapper, The Lumineers, The Weeks, Band Of Horses, The Avett Brothers, Horse Feathers, Anais Mitchell, Laura Stephenson, Kathleen Edwards, The Belle Brigade, and 1 2 3 all could make reasonable cases for having albums just as good or better as Houndmouth’s debut LP, From the Hills Below the City.

Yet with the exception of The Lumineers (who have very properly cashed in) and The Weeks (who’s newest record leaves them still in limbo), only Houndmouth seems properly positioned to take advantage of the folk-rock supernova that Mumford and Leon (and their major label handlers) hath wrought upon the music landscape.

Which is not to say Houndmouth is aggressively generic.

The band’s ability to shift to and from any of its three singers keeps From the Hills from wearing thin over its 12 tracks.

Keyboard player Katie Toupin shines the brightest, partly because she’s such a dead ringer for “& Her Boyfriends-era” Neko Case. Her free-base-using-stomp-romp “Casino” floats above the glut of stompers Houndmouth has due to the strength of her delivery—never weak, never afraid of the words coming out of her mouth. Yet for all Toupin’s strengths, she’s still mostly a positive echo back to stronger mold-breakers like Case.

Toupin’s limitations are microcosms of those that betray themselves on The Hills Below the City, which itself is manifestation of Houndmouth’s primary songwriting shortcoming—its influences are way too easy to spot.

Does that make the first half of From the Hills any less enjoyable? Not necessarily. Up until the end of “Ludlow,” the band’s Dixieland-steampunk-rock thoroughly pulse pounds—even the two separate and well constructed, if unimaginative, solos on “Hey Rose” delay the tiresome feeling. Having a good time listening to From the Hills involves a certain amount of imagination, though, since the songs clearly will work better in a live setting, when subtle changes in tempo and pace can be more easily detected.

Delineating the differences between the excellent opening numbers on From the Hills requires too close a microscope. “On the Road” has more piano plinks, “Come On Illinois” more atmosphere, “Penitentiary” is basically a The Band song, and “Casino” has Toupin. But for the most part, they trade on the same scales—pounding, bluesy guitar, gorgeous vocal harmonies, heavy doses of Wurlitzer organs, and full-figured half-time choruses with cymbals to plump up the atmosphere.

References to coal mine towns and steam trains don’t date or make a novelty of Houndmouth for most of From the Hills’ running time. But like nearly all of the elements on the record, the second half is where exhaustion sets in.

Other than the vocal harmonies, which are the only excellent, non-exhaustive tool in Houndmouth’s shed (and they are on full display on “Houston Train”), the second half of From The Hills bears a little bit too close a thematic resemblance to Mumford & Sons’ records—woozy retreads of what made side one so alive. References to “Robert Roy’s” and “Gypsy trains” become less artful scene-setting and more tiresome reference point. Just when “Palmyra” is enjoying a calming, heartfelt R&B solo, the rest of the band interjects to finish off the album the way each of its songs ends—with an enormous wall of folk-driven noise.

From the Hills Below The City doesn’t quite feel like a missed opportunity, for all its tiresome lame-duckery. Houndmouth’s debut is as much a statement of what the band is than what it can be, considering the impressive talents of the musicians involved. Hills doesn’t have a “Ho, Hey” breakout single, but the band’s festival punch card should be pretty well filled by this summer’s end. Realistically, there’s very little chance of a band this blues-oriented to unseat the behemoths of marginalized folk rock; the fact that there are behemoths of folk-rock means Houndmouth has a better shot than most of making a small splash.

Houndmouth – From the Hills Below The City tracklist:

  1. “On the Road”
  2. “Come On Illinois”
  3. “Penitentiary”
  4. “Casino”
  5. “Ludlow”
  6. “Hey Rose”
  7. “Krampus”
  8. “Long as You’re At Home”
  9. “Houston Train”
  10. “Halfway to Hardinsburg”
  11. “Comin’ Around Again”
  12. “Palmyra”
Album-Art-for-Rkives-by-Rilo-Kiley Rilo Kiley – RKives

★★★☆☆

Just four years after one-time indie rock band Rilo Kiley signed to a major record label—a move that garnered the group comparisons to Fleetwood Mac—the female-led quartet called it quits. As lead guitarist and vocalist Blake Sennett would tell at least one music publication, the 2011 split was due to “deception, disloyalty, and grief,” but fans of Sennett and red-headed frontwoman Jenny Lewis could break it down into simpler terms: The band, formed in 1998 as Lewis “retired” from a once-successful child-acting career, wasn’t made to last.

Sennett, himself a former child actor (look up old episodes of Salute Your Shorts and Boy Meets World) blames ego, which is a likely enough cause. Truth be told, Sennett and Lewis, who had a brief romantic involvement in Rilo Kiley’s early days, moved on years ago, even before Warner Bros. Records released its fourth album, Under the Blacklight, in 2007.

Despite modest commercial success and strong reviews, Under the Blacklight marked the final full-length album for Rilo Kiley, while members worked on side projects like Sennett’s The Elected and Lewis’ solo career (she sang a duet with The Killers’ Brandon Flowers on his solo debut album in 2010) and the duo Jenny and Johnny, with Lewis’ boyfriend Johnathan Rice. But when band members choose to part ways, it doesn’t necessarily mark the end, as fans found with this spring’s release of Rkives, a collection of previously unreleased songs and B-sides.

Rilo Kiley went back to its independent-label roots, releasing Rkives through bassist Pierre de Reeder‘s label Little Record Company.

Don’t go looking for a cohesive sound or even one recurring theme in the 17 songs, one of which is a hidden track. After all, that isn’t necessarily the point of a rarities release. Instead, long-time Rilo Kiley fans can set aside the liner notes and make a little guessing game out of which songs came out of which phase of the band’s 13-year career.

And for those new to the group, the at-times awkward disjointedness of Rkives is kind of fun.

The album’s lead single and opening track, “Let Me Back In,” is Lewis’s testament to her undying love for Los Angeles, how the city always greets her with open arms despite life’s failings and failed relationships. The track starts Rkives off on a strong note with its offerings of alternative country-infused sound: “And when the ṗalm trees bow their heads/No matter how cruel I’ve been/LA, you always let me back in.”

The slower tempoed “Draggin’ Around” shares several lyrics verbatim from the bouncy, cowbell-driven, disco-era “Breakin’ Up” from Under the Blacklight. Both are must-haves when a relationship hits the wall, as Lewis sings of her ex-lover meeting new (and prettier) girls. Feel free to snap those fingers along to “The Frug,” the story of a girl who can do practically anything, including the ‘60s dance craze for which the track is named, but fall in love.

Perhaps Rkives is a lesson for loyal followers and band members alike: Stick with what you know and know that signing with a major label isn’t always the best route. The album is far from perfect, but the best of fans will appreciate the rarities’ elements, quirks and all, allowing the group to live again. Rilo Kiley’s members say they’ve moved on, but Rikives is evidence that they, too, still care.

Rilo Kiley – Rkives tracklist:

  1. “Let Me Back In”
  2. “I’ll Get You There”
  3. “Runnin’ Around”
  4. “All the Drugs”
  5. “Bury, Bury, Bury Another”
  6. “Well, You Left”
  7. “Draggin’ Around”
  8. “I Remember You”
  9. “Dejalo (Zondo remix w/Too $hort)”
  10. “A Town Called Luckey”
  11. “Emotional”
  12. “American Wife”
  13. “Patiently”
  14. “Rest of My Life (demo)”
  15. “About the Moon”
  16. “The Frug”
  17. “Untitled”
Album-Art-for-Monomania-by-Deerhunter Deerhunter – Monomania

★★★★½

Georgia-based five-piece Deerhunter has been a symbol of American indie since its formation in the early 2000s. Headed by Bradford Cox, the band has recorded six full-length albums and toured with bands such as The Smashing Pumpkins and Spoon. But, despite its popularity, Deerhunter manages to keep it real. Its music ranges from indie rock to noise pop to mellow punk, but what do those terms really matter? The band  keeps its sound fresh from album to album, altering its shapes, textures, and ultimately, its impact.

Monomania, Deerhunter’s newest release, is a gritty turn on 2010’s Hacylon Digest. The album’s 12 tracks are seared with thrash guitars, crunchy drums, and hypnotic vocals. “Leather Jacket II,” the second track, sounds like two different songs layered atop one another. It’s a rock tune with a straightforward beat and a discernible melody, yet is always on the verge of noisy demise. In between screaming feedback and Cox’s grossly distorted vocals, the music somehow comes together. More than that, it’s good, really good; it gives listeners something new and exciting, while sounding familiar in a vintage indie kind of way.

Displaying the mark of an experienced band, Deerhunter alters its sound from track to track.

The shift is most apparent when contrasting “Dream Captain” and “Blue Agent” as they unfold one after another. The former has washy rhythm guitars and sleigh bells at the chorus, while the latter has a low, brooding bass and clipped guitar lines. While these songs are different in structure and sound, they work well together, adding to Deerhunter’s overall style and voice.

Perhaps what makes Monomania so engaging is its refusal to subscribe to a genre. Sure, elements of lo-fi indie rock are embedded deep within the music, but Deerhunter is making music for itself, and isn’t concerned with shaping its sound according to the restrictions of a genre.  The title track, “Monomania,” exemplifies the “fuck you; we’re doing what we want” mentality, seen especially at its three minute peak, with Cox singing, “Mono monomania mono monomania” in a trance-inducing chant, while violent, messy guitars wail in the background.

So yeah, Deerhunter did it right with Monomania. It shaped its decade-long career into a sound both mature and not overly rigid. The tracks are diverse in sound, texture, and emotional resonance, making this album a well thought out piece of work.

But it is in no way perfect. The guitars are filthy, the vocals are uncomfortable and out of tune, and when the album sounds the worst, it sounds the best, because Deerhunter isn’t in it to win our hearts. Hell no. If Monomania is a testament to anything, it’s that genuine Indie still exists, that indie music is not a sound or an image. No, indie is most real when it’s an ill-defined mess, and Deerhunter clearly supports this mentality. 

Deerhunter – Monomania tracklist:

  1. “Neon Junkyard”
  2. “Leather Jacket II”
  3. “The Missing”
  4. “Pensacola”
  5. “Dream Captain”
  6. “Blue Agent”
  7. “T.H.M.”
  8. “Sleepwalking”
  9. “Back to the Middle”
  10. “Monomania”
  11. “Nitebike”
  12. “Punk (La Vie Antérieure)”
Album-art-for-Acid-Rap-by-Chance-the-Rapper Chance the Rapper – Acid Rap

★★★☆☆

Chance the Rapper gets a lot of love from Chicago folks, especially as a Chicago native himself, but that love didn’t bloom until after the release of his mixtape 10-Day, created on a 10-day suspension from high school. After releasing said mixtape on Columbia College’s AEMMP records and catching the eye of Childish Gambino, the rest is history. People are turning on, tuning in, and dropping the needle on Chance’s debut LP Acid Rap.

Acid Rap’s “Good Ass Intro” isn’t best defined by the limitations of its name—it’s a great ass song altogether. The jivey brass instruments bring this album in on a high note while Chance raps over feel-good backup vocals on loop. This good vibe extends into “Pusha Man,” with its early 2000s sound, and beyond into the rest of the album.

Serving as a sort of Part II to “Pusha Man,” an ethereal and ultimately chill electric piano rolls along on the semi-hidden track, “Paranoia.” Chance spits about the violence he experienced as a Chicago native and croons out his prayers for an early spring because “everybody’s dying in the summer.” It’s also funny that this awesome track is left without its own slot—though being the most serious moment on a fun-loving album like Acid Rap merits its treatment as an aside.

Flow is key on Acid Rap. Song on top of song, they fit together like puzzle pieces that are glued together with Chance’s seamless style and idiosyncratic squawks, yelps, and an occasional “na-na-na” thrown around the beat.

These quips and his lyrics are hilarious, but not in an abrasive way like Tyler the Creator’s. His voice is whiney, but not like he’s faded on too many pharmaceutical drugs, as is the case with Li’l Wayne. It’s all Chance, and in a dried up rap game, his fresh voice is welcome.

Chance wraps his slurred and alliteration-riddled rhymes around Acid Rap‘s occasional old-timey sounds that blur into sweet, jazzy hooks and awkward beat chops. Songs like “Juice” start off with an EQ that makes the mixtape sound like it’s playing out of a Dictaphone. Chance doesn’t miss an opportunity to swing in with smooth, R&B-style singing to complement his already suave flow on “Lost” and “Everybody’s Somebody.”

The whole album seems to be wrapped between puffs from a cigarette, flowing out of a mind swirling from hits of acid and a bag of mushrooms. Psychedelic, 8-bit synths and electric chimes dwell over “Cocoa Butter Kisses,” where Chance dishes about the addictions of the world between samples of chain-smoking coughs, and, rather fittingly, “Chain Smoking” follows the same flow.

Seeing as Donald Glover (aka Childish Gambino) was instrumental in bringing Chance to public attention, it makes sense that he steps in on “Favorite Song.” The track’s feel-good, summery tone is a glaring example of the marketability of Chance’s sound. He often references the nostalgia of his age group, which includes everything from the orange cassette tapes of Nickelodeon days to country stars Rascal Flats.

Acid Rap is psychedelic, but fits in on a state-school kegger playlist, and despite being catchy, you’ll find it on a playlist made by and for trippers. It’s not anything exciting like Death Grips, and it’s nothing hard like Wu-Tang, but Acid Rap will throw Chance into the limelight, and there’s no doubt he’s got way more in him.

Chance the Rapper – Acid Rap tracklist:

  1. “Good Ass Intro (feat. BJ the Chicago Kid”
  2. “Pusha Man (feat. Nate Fox & Lili K)”
  3. “Cocca Butta Kisses (feat. Twista & Vic Mensa)”
  4. “Juice”
  5. “Lost (feat. Noname Gypsy)”
  6. “Everybody’s Something (feat. BJ The Chicago Kid & Saba)”
  7. “Interlude (That’s Love)”
  8. “Favorite Song (feat. Childish Gambino)”
  9. “Nana (feat. Action Bronson)”
  10. “Smoke Again (feat. Ab-Soul)”
  11. “Acid Rain”
  12. “Chain Smoker”
  13. “Good Ass Outro”

 

Album-art-for-Random-Access-Memories-by-Daft-Punk Daft Punk – Random Access Memories

★★★★½

Mastered by production legend Bob Ludwig (Jimi Hendrix, Madonna, Rolling Stones, The Who), Random Access Memories is Daft Punk’s fourth studio album—the French duo’s deepest and most anticipated dive into the big leagues. It was recorded using mostly live instruments and session musicians, limiting electronic instruments to a synthesizer, drum machines, and Kraftwerk-era vocoders.

Random Access Memories continues in the direction of analogue production, a divergence that will likely split a massive fanbase grown from Homework (1994) and Discovery (2001). Numerous tracks on Random Access Memories explore a lighter feeling and leave digital sounds to a surprisingly conscious minimum.

Born into elaborate auto-tuned vocals and robot head pieces, Daft Punk transforms elusive personality into a style used by many electronic acts since: RJD2’s welding suit and mask, Deadmou5’s iconic mouse mask, and SBTRKT with his African tribal mask, to name a few. The curious theory that electronic artists acquire robotic or cosmic personalities is one that audiences like to indulge. Perhaps it’s just easier to believe that mathematical techno and unknown sounds stem from a non-human trade—something that masks and method personalities certainly do support.

Daft Punk’s members chose to remind us they are human with the release of Random Access Memories, in which hard-hitting house repetitions cease to be a defining characteristic of the music.

Guest vocalists appear on almost half of RAM’s 13 tracks, taking down the tune distortions a substantial notch. Daft Punk’s creativity actively flourishes outward into a versatile spread of an album. It manages to create familiarity and provoke feeling through a mixture of heavily electronic sounds and intimate musical inclusions.

The lyrical sentiments of “Touch” and “Within” suggest a struggle with identity, as well as a desire to be understood on a personal level. “Within” is a relatively tame piano piece that explores a deep crisis of self-hood. Werner Herzog would do well to narrate the self-identity struggles deep within electronic music’s biggest, loudest, boldest masked performance duo. Daft Punk’s members might never remove their masks, but exposing themselves doesn’t seem to elicit fear anymore: “There’s a room within me that I can’t explain/Many rooms to explore, but they all look the same/I am lost, I can’t even remember my name.”

“Touch” is a melancholy mid-album adventure, introduced as the core of Random Access Memories around which all other tracks resonate. Paul Williams (The Muppets soundtrack; The Love Boat theme song) wrote and performed the song, contriving a narrative intonation likened to his characteristically animated voice. “Touch” twists and fluctuates with unique beauty as it surveys the senses involved with being human, experiencing feeling, and the shortfalls of both. Williams comments that the music speaks louder than the lyrics, and this track seems to become a turning point for Random Access Memory’s onward and increased energy.

The first and happiest single immediately follows, personifying RAM’s lively transition. Featuring the vocal energy of Pharrell, “Get Lucky” is hands down this summer’s perfect anthem. It indulges everyone aching to enjoy the good, the current moment—a sweet delight to accompany a rediscovered outdoor adventureland.

Pharrell also provides the untainted disco hook on “Lose Yourself To Dance,” another incredibly catchy standout. Panda Bear’s performance on “Doin’ It Right” is an indie-flamed viral success, as well as a testament to Daft Punk’s true task of letting oneself go: “If you lose your way tonight/that’s how you know the magic’s right.”

On the tail end of RAM, “Motherboard” is a marathon of rolling keys and revelatory tones, implying peace found at the origin of it all—welcome assurance for the fame-tainted electronic duo. It feels like a journey, a space-out accomplice, and a humble, heartfelt statement.

Random Access Memories closes with a six+ minute crescendo entitled “Contact,” reaching through the stars and past the comprehension of a multi-galaxy universe. Epic bliss aside, the song accentuates a Daft Punk characteristic that is less than due for special praise: formulaic melodies; recognizable progressions; and pop prototypes. “Contact” is about intergalactic curiosities and expanding the mind—praise be held that is a marvelous sentiment—but Daft Punk’s method to convey this is contained within the aforementioned prescriptions and shows little unique stray, considering the alien topic at hand. Maybe this doesn’t affect “Contact’s” enjoyability, but it is an apparent factor in the commercial success of Daft Punk’s new, strikingly pop-friendly music.

Daft Punk – Random Access Memories tracklist:

  1. “Give Life Back To Music”
  2. “The Game Of Love”
  3. “Giorgio By Moroder”
  4. “Within”
  5. “Instant Crush (feat. Julian Casablancas)”
  6. “Lose Yourself To Dance (feat. Pharrell Williams)”
  7. “Touch (feat. Paul Williams)”
  8. “Get Lucky (feat. Pharrell Williams)”
  9. “Beyond”
  10. “Motherboard”
  11. “Fragments Of Time (feat. Todd Edwards)”
  12. “Doin’ It Right (feat. Panda Bear)”
  13. “Contact”