Pop 'stache

If you’ve ever gritted your teeth through a Twilight Saga movie soundtrack, you’d know what Egyptian Wrinkle sounds like. If Boy Friend’s semi-psychedelic sounds were more widely known, they’d have popped up at least twice by now, not just because Twilight has advanced to film number five already, but because this is what the desperate love story tends to surround itself with.

Egyptian Wrinkle’s style might not jive well with American audiences just because it is so slow and somber. The energy it brings forth is sleepy and still, absent and melancholy. This is exactly what some fans might be looking for, but also a lowly waste of time to others. Chances are, the latter half will claim the opinions of Boy Friend’s listeners.

After a dream-like intro dissipates, listeners are introduced to the content of the album with some heavy drum beats and waveringly harmonic vocals in “Rogue Wave I” which comes back around at the end of the album in “Rogue Wave II.” It was bold for the group to open and close the set with strict instrumentals, and well executed in the way that it sparks imagination in its start but hushes the narrative at the end of the album. This was a job well done.

John Talabot is a Barcelonan producer. While ƒIN is technically his debut full-length, he’s already been on the scene with a series of lauded EPs, including last year’s Families. And while he technically does House, he does it without any of the trashy, stale connotations that have swarmed the genre. For a good deal of the album it’s hard to discern “House” at all. This album, dubiously titled ƒIN, seems not only to have been made by a like-minded band but a well-seasoned, intuitively minded band, that has learned from the mistakes of its first few albums.

If there’s one thing you can count on from Young Turks its making music that unapologetically delves into the heart of darkness. Their artists pen albums that from the first track emanate a beautifully bleak aesthetic. For ƒIN that track is “Depak Ine.” and what an introduction it makes. The album emerges like a raft from the mists of the Amazon, surrounded on all sides by a sultry, vibrating jungle where the cries of a thousand nameless beasts surround from the impassable depths. There too are the spirit chants of the forest, beckoning onward until tribal drums enter in equally wild reverie.

Where Talabot succeeds unconditionally is in selection of sounds. The production quality could be crisper, the grooves altered and even the instruments tweaked but it just wouldn’t suit ƒIN. This is a work that begs to be played live by a band, there’s such thought put into each part, none overstepping its part or fading too long, that it’s often a wonder how one man arranged it. The builds and falls show a patient sophistication on the part of the artist far transcending his experience. “El Oeste” swirls into a Phillip Glass-esque arpeggiator-line, instated so many times that eventually the mind become numbed and, like chanting in tones, put into another place.

Is ƒIN calming? In a strange and counter-intuitive way, yes. The effect is so brooding that it becomes meditative and one can’t help but be absorbed in its magic. Moods range from basking in the Catalonian sun (“Last Land”) to low-budget slasher flick (“Oro y Sangre”.) It’s also one of those volume-dependent albums—softly its work from home music, loudly it’s grab whoever’s nearest and start thumping tailfeathers. Somehow it never tilts into “blank-stare” there’s always one element that grabs at the ears if not the hips. “When the Past Was Present” pairs a juicy, eighties Miami bassline under a writhing soul voice, it’s glowing and rejoicing at once. “H.O.R.S.E.” beckons with wild, tempestuous rhythms swirling under the organ sounds. It’s a stakeless game of catch-me-if-you-can. If there’s a hole in the quiltwork of ƒIN it’s that there are a few tracks that don’t seem to belong. “Estiu,” is by most accounts Chillwave and not bad at that–but not of the Talabot realm. The upbeat, vocal-assisted groove of “Journeys,” seems out of place with its Merriweather Post Pavillion brand of indie-pop–but is an otherwise stellar track.

If Talabot has thus far managed to fly under the radar, he shouldn’t be able to for long. Already, the two album tracks featuring Pional have begun circuiting the hipper disco palaces of the continent and will soon, no doubt, jump the drip. One in particular, album closer “So will be now…” with its superb vocal sampling, finger snaps and droning deep-house groove has met rave response, even among the masses. When an artist melds together an unconventional collection of songs so convincingly, with such studied hands–on his first attempt–the appeal becomes universal.

John Talabot – ƒIN tracklist

1. “Depak Ine”
2. “Destiny” (featuring Pional)
3. “El Oeste”
4. “Oro y Sangre”
5. “Journeys” (featuring Ekhi)
6. “Missing You”
7. “Last Land”
8. “Estiu”
9. “When the Past Was Present”
10. “H.O.R.S.E.”
11. “So Will Be Now” (featuring Pional)

Coming off an ambitious three album concept cycle, Shearwater is taking their latest release as an opportunity to reorient themselves. Advance press indicated that the high-concept junkies would be going for a more straightfoward rock album, but that’s only relatively true. The music remains more stripped down than not (this is Shearwater we’re talking about), but the record still comes off as a layered piece with no shortage of ideas to communicate.

Animal Joy is a completely and unfailingly intimate record, and quite simply one of the most earnest things you’re likely to hear all year. When “You As You Were” starts with delicate piano, and then pulls back to let frontman Jonathan Meiburg’s voice take center stage, the music parks at some kind of bizzare three way intersection between lo-fi, modern folk, and early-’80s power ballads.

Meiburg may well have the softest-edged voice in indie rock: a wispy falsetto capable of drawing surprising power from some unseen well, even when treading familiar thematic ground such as lost love. Even when Meiburg and his band reach for an obvious pull at the heartstrings, they come across as truly, genuinely moving where they should be corny. Some of the credit belongs to some very strong lyrical construction, but not all: somehow the band has perfected a knack of chord changes and musical shifts that cut right to the heart.

“Insolence” is another standout, something that gives us a taste of that hard rock we were promised. When Shearwater go hard on this album, they’re the marathon-runners of head-nodding hard rock: they hunker down, find a nitche where their drummer can give them a rock-stable rhythm, and just sort of work that nitche for all it’s worth. You want to stomp your foot right along with them. They’ve chosen their name well, because the whole experience of listening to “Insolence” or it’s followup track “Immaculate” is undeniably primal.

“Star of the Age” the closing track, works a “retro” feel harder than any other track of the album. It really sounds like it belongs over a training montage in some lost movie featuring the former governor of California, but damn it, it works. It sweeps you along with it, because it’s not humanly possible to resist the amount of genuine feeling that seems to have been packed into it. Kudos to Shearwater for creating a musical space where ideas that shouldn’t be able to survive in the world of modern music seem perfectly at home.

Shearwater – Animal Joy tracklist:

1. “Animal Life”
2. “Breaking the Yearlings”
3. “Dread Sovereign”
4. “You As You Were”
5. “Insolence”
6. “Immaculate”
7. “Open Your Houses”
8. “Run the Banner Down”
9. “Pushing the River”
10. “Believing Makes It Easy”
11. “Star of the Age”

Not quite metal, not quite garage rock, not quite alternative; Pulled Apart By Horses fall into what some define as “Disco Metal”, a purgatory of a subgenre that condemns all with its stamp as being heavy-but-not-heavy enough. Partially unfair and completely accurate, Tough Love refuses to commit to a singular style; content to surround itself with healthy doses of screaming, thrashing and smashing, all amidst dancehall funk and guitar playing that isn’t afraid to flirt with hair metal.

What keeps Tough Love from working is, well, timing. Had the band been making this kind of music a decade ago, this genre mashup might have turned heads. Today, in 2012, not so much: Pulled Apart By Horses sounds a lot like everybody else, or rather, pieces of everybody else. Though certainly not straightforward, the record is hardly as intricately weird as other post-genre bands like Daughters, who were noted for mixing noise, spazz, and dance grooves. Nor does it have the crossover commercial appeal of say, Pablo Honey-era Radiohead.

This isn’t to say Pulled Apart By Horses fail to resonate. They do. Look past the fluff and you’ll find some solid musicianship. Tough Love is the kind of record that gets the blood pumping. It’s great music to smash bottles on a sidewalk to. (Not that we’ve ever done this.)  For instance, lead single “V.E.N.O.M.,” carries with its backronym-titled charm a wink of playfulness nestled in-between its dark, sly kitsch factor. “V.E.N.O.M.” is a song from a better record, and a hint at what Pulled Apart By Horses could be were they willing to bury the theatrics. Instead, things pull apart from there.

Cuts such as “Shake Off the Curse” feature grrl-punk guitar grooves ripped straight out of The Distiller’s back-catalog. Swap Brody Dalle’s trademark swoon with Pulled Apart By Horses vocalist Tom Hudson’s screech, and you have Tough Love. It works, for anyone unfamiliar with ironic YouTube mashups. A few exceptions abound; “Epic Myth” and “Some Mothers” blend grunge, traditional punk tempo and harmonic pop seamlessly.

Regardless of what the future may hold for “Disco Metal” and its place in relevant, ‘alt’ music, Tough Love still stands as a decent entry for our generation’s obsessions with post-genre weirdness. The music, even when it doesn’t work, is danceable, tight. When it does, it’s terrific. Ambition, even when it fails to follow through, is still ambition–which for all its faults, makes Pulled Apart By Horses something of a band to admire.

Pulled Apart By Horses – Tough Love tracklist:

1. “V.E.N.O.M.”
2. “Wolf Hand”
3. “Shake off the Curse”
4. “Epic Myth”
5. “Some Mothers”
6. “Night of the Living (I’m Scared of People)”
7. “Wildfire, Smoke & Doom”
8. “Bromance Ain’t Dead”
9. “Give Me a Reason”
10. “Degeneration Game”
11. “Everything Dipped in Gold”

Peter William Nelson’s latest recording, God Save the King, finds the Midwest rapper opening the book that is his life a little more willfully than his current hip-hop brethren. At his best, Copywrite’s flow brings back memories of the underground days of Royce Da 5’9”, and at his worst still provides adept rhyming skills. A member of the Columbus, Ohio, crew MegaHertz, Copywrite touches on everything from weak rappers who claim to own “swag” to the sometimes-taboo subject of spirituality.

The latter comes to the forefront at the beginning of the record. “Post-Apocaliptic Request Box” starts with a sinister Spanish guitar and keyboard mix. “There’s only one way out, through Christ, the King, the Man, man you can’t keep pumping drugs through your pumping heart,” he recites as he goes on to denounce worldly values and promiscuous behavior. Preaching like a cooler version of a Baptist pulpit dweller, Copywrite proclaims his reason for being born was to serve his King, while continuing to hold onto that edge that most “Christian rappers” lose out on.

“You get headaches for going against my grain,” he laces on “Love,” a message to rappers who might chose to diss. Where some would say he was hypocrite, a deeper look just shows a man who is comfortable where he stands and is proud to represent it in the often-negative world of hip-hop.

“Swaggot Killaz” finds him joined by MHz cohort Jakki Da Mota Mouth and finds his flow at its tongue-twisting best. Building on the hatred he battles on “Love,” this track provides further ammunition for haters.

“Sorrow,” “Man Made,” and “J.O.Y.” are all heartfelt anthems that express his displeasure with the troubles of the world, each equipped with a soulful sing-along chorus. “Union Rights” is an ode to those suffering through minimum-wage jobs to feed their families and sets another table for Copywrite to lyrically feast.

“Got to Make It” gets back to Copywrite calling out to God while earnestly calling for the listener to do the same, not shying away from his faith and what he feels is the truth.

God Save the King is a solid, message-driven record from a conscious rapper that definitely abides by the rule of being in the world, but not of the world.

Copywrite – God Save the King tracklist:

1. “Post-Apocalyptic Request Box”
2. “Love” (featuring Tage Future)
3. “Swaggot Killaz” (featuring Jakki da Mota Mouth)
4. “Sorrow” (featuring Illogic)
5. “Man Made” (featuring Rockness Monstah)
6. “J.O.Y.” (featuring Jason Rose & Torae)
7. “Union Rights” (featuring MHz)
8. “YO! Mtv RAP” (featuring Jason Rose)
9. “Blue Ribbon”
10. “Miracle”
11. “G$k”
12. “Workahol”
13. “White Democrats” (featuring Mac Lethal)
14. “Golden State (of Mind)” (featuring Casual, Evidence & Roc Marciano)
15. “Synesthesia”
16. “Got to Make It” (featuring Tage Future)
17. “A Talk with Jesus”

In regard to Xiu Xiu’s new album, Always, the press has presented this album as a celebration for anyone who’s been a fan or supporter of Xiu Xiu throughout the 10 years the band has been sharing its strange, eclectic and creepy music with the world. It might be the most accessible record the band has made, while still retaining its style.

Most noise fans know that the shifts in Xiu Xiu songs could best be compared to a bi-polar meltdown from happy to sad or the dramatic shifts of character someone with a multiple personality disorder. One minute they are nice and soft with whispering and acoustic guitars, and the next, they are chainsaw-wielding psychos screaming about repressed childhood memories.

Always does have shifts like these, but they are approached in a more refined manner. There are still the abrasive samples, but there aren’t five-minute-long screeches with zero tonal or musical qualities. Most notably, the choruses in the songs on this album are catchy, minimal bursts of noise, just a trickle or trill from a piano or guitar at a time that channel this untouchable and unidentifiable mix of 1980s and melodramatic elements.

“Joey’s Song” is one of the gems on Always because the chorus has multiple instruments and sounds mixing at the same time in the expected chaos. There are soft, sickening pianos in back that are put through multiple filters that are shiny and glittery enough to sound like M83 or My Bloody Valentine. This is a new territory for the band that was a fruitful adventure forward into its sound.

“Honey Suckle” shows how after 10 years, Xiu Xiu only gets better at manipulating sounds in the studio each time members record an album. The chorus, “I get up, get up, but the day is ruined again,” doesn’t really freak any Xiu Xiu fan out compared with other lyrics. It actually sounds happy for a change. The little keyboard melody in the chorus is simple and easy like MGMT and Depeche Mode fighting over a keyboard with one finger each. This results in a response to the song that embraces the dark and abused imagery that Xiu Xiu is known for, but wears the scars with pride.

This is why the acoustic and solo songs with lots of silence and Jamie Stewart’s lead vocals are empty compared to the other things they did on Always. We’ve heard those slow “ballads” before. Yes, they are indicative of everything the band stands for, but they don’t have that same power that songs such as “Fabulous Muscles” did. That’s why songs like “Honey Suckle” and “Smear the Queen” with a focus on Angela Seo’s vocals are so impressive because of how well her deadpan, almost nonmusical singing is somehow so catchy.

The most impressive song and biggest testament to the fans on this album is “Born to Suffer.” This song starts with a strong, pulsing beat comparable to Knife Play’s “I Broke Up,” but instead of having compressed, piercing screamed segments in the chorus, the vocals are soft. Around the second chorus, the song gets loud and starts to have multiple explosions of sound in your ears. It builds up until it all dies down and Stewart whispers, “If God won’t come, I’ll go to him,” and then the electronics start to build their tempo into a club-style bass drop build-up, but it sounds so deliciously Xiu Xiu.

Stewart doesn’t really scream on this album nor have any lyrical spazz-outs, and it still all works for the better. Sadly, even the most die-hard Xiu Xiu fans have to admit that almost all the songs rotate through the same imagery and content lyrically, but a journey through sonic landscapes that play and challenges what qualifies as music is what many really expect to get out of Xiu Xiu.

This album seems to be the ’80s throwback to childhood memories that you expect from Xiu Xiu, but from a newer version of the typical perspective and point of view. It’s like the ’80s goth kids you always knew were inside Xiu Xiu finally grew up and didn’t need to give up their shtick because they found a way to make all the weird sounds they heard in their head make sense to someone else for the first time.

Xiu Xiu – Always tracklist:

1. “Hi”
2. “Joey’s Song”
3. “Beauty Towne”
4. “Honeysuckle”
5. “I Luv Abortion”
6. “The Oldness”
7. “Chimneys Afire”
8. “Gul Mudin”
9. “Born to Suffer”
10. “Factory Girls”
11. “Smear the Queen”
12. “Black Drum Machine”

Little can be found about Blazo from a simple Google search, and the Polish export leaves everything up for interpretation in the instrumental journey that is Reflections. Yet despite the absence of words, the music speaks volumes as it is. A simple message on the Blazo Bandcamp page reads that Reflections is, “… an album which is a continuation of Alone Journey. Have been inspired by a great man and my master—Jujabesl. I hope you’ll like my thoughts and reflections, as I give you them in this piece of music.”

The album starts off with the appropriately titled “New Beginning,” which has a slow symphonic build that gradually turns into a smooth, head-nodding, hi-hat beat. With a simple piano sample added to it, the opening track is a great table-setter.

The Latin-inspired “The Influence” follows that with Spanish guitars and sweeping, reverse key waves. A comfortable rhythm sets in with a dual-guitar approach and eventually, a little something for all the flute lovers out there.

On the instrumentally dominated album, only guests Nieve, CL and 49ers add words to Blazo’s reflections. “Heartbeat” kicks a flow reminiscent of “Kick, Push”-era Lupe Fiasco. Blazo brings a simple drum pattern and piano break beat into play for Nieve to get his backpack on. CL chimes in on “Notes,” a laid-back, early 2000-type beat that finds the guest kicking some optimistic bars. “When opportunity knocks, son, you best be ready. … Growing up’s a hard thing,” he says, to enlighten the youth from America to Poland. 49ers appear on two tracks: “Dock Ellis” and “Pressure.” The duo continues the theme of looking far beneath the surface, trading positive rhymes for horns and strings.

The rest of Reflections is a lot more of the same, never really breaking from the mold of simplistic inner examination. There are tracks such as “Metamorphosis” and title track “Reflections” that push the tempo a bit, but most fall into the soothing, laid-back category like “Improvise,” which incorporates a little Bollywood, and closing track “Rising.” Not that it’s a bad thing: the album feels like a long, relaxing hookah session, but there’s just not a lot of variation. If someone is looking for a solid collection of instrumentals to vibe out to, but also keep things on a level path, Reflections could be the answer.

Blazo – Reflections tracklist:

1. “New Beginning”
2. “The Influence”
3. “Heartbeat” (featuring Nieve)
4. “Reality Check”
5. “Lucid Dream”
6. “Dock Ellis” (featuring 49ers)
7. “Flute Story Two”
8. “Reflections”
9. “Notes” (featuring CL)
10. “Metamorphosis”
11. “Little Piano Two”
12. “Cure”
13. “Pressure” (featuring 49ers)
14. “Improvise”
15. “Rising”

There are certain ramifications one must accept when opening your album with a nine-and-a-half minute prose poem set to music, the ultimate point of which is rooted in a jarring sex joke. Not to mention that this prose poem will be spoken by a man bearing little resemblance to your normal frontman whose voice is widely referred to as one of your band’s prime calling cards. A decision such as that should not be taken lightly.

Yet for Tindersticks, the elder statesmen of a Brit-pop scene they had always outgrown, the decision seems so natural it’s funnier than the song’s joke itself. “Chocolate,” the opener from the band’s latest album, The Something Rain, is exactly what’s outline above. In contrast to typical lead singer Stephen Staples’ ghostly baritone moan, the gloomy, frequently hilarious proceedings are narrated by David Boulter, whose crisp Ss and witty British affect lend levity to an album that can sometimes feel starved for it. No surprise, then, that “Chocolate” is a sequel to Tindersticks’ classic “My Sister,” from their eponymous first album. “Chocolate” is a perfect and damning opener, its unexpectedness and natural texture immediately arrests the listener. Yet the album drifts back toward more traditional recent Tindersticks fare, and the results are more disappointing because of “Chocolate”’s presence.

Of course, “traditional” Tindersticks material vastly undersells the objective refreshing individuality at play on all their records. The band’s willingness to maintain ties to their Brit-pop heritage, all the while spinning their instrumental gyroscope to wider radii is laudable in a way no other artist can match: Joanna Newsom, take notes. “This Fire of Autumn” is all frenetic bluster, Staples’ voice backed up ably by a duo of gospel singers while Tindersticks plant themselves firmly in the ground, eschewing the electronic tinges that add little to The Something Rain’s formula.

Sad, then, that The Something Rain can feel like Tindersticks autopilot. A saxophone or trumpet added by collaborator Terry Edwards here, a boat full of haunt to fill the recipe and stir with cymbals. “Chocolate” would sound this way were it an instrumental, and the banal elements of “Chocolate”’s story mirror ideal Something Rain listening conditions; gloomy loneliness, punctuated by infrequent moments of human interaction. If the record had maintained the lively literary twitch that its first track has in spades, this review might be very different.

For Tindersticks fans, The Something Rain could feel like a logical step forward. Not impossible to access, the record could serve as an entrance point for new listeners, if the diminishing returns after each successive song didn’t betray this accessibility. “Slippin’ Shoes” works the best of the bunch, mostly because it allows samba-style trumpet bleats to shine a little light on the proceedings. It also speaks volumes that all the best songs on The Something Rain contain precious little programming touches. Jazz melodies are well-worn, guitar lines don’t excite, and everything here is less relaxing than it should be. “Come Inside,” the meandering second-to-last track, doesn’t achieve its goal of being a palate clearing final movement; that honor is left up to the well edited “Goodbye Joe.”

Meticulously curated chamber pop, the kind Tindersticks have decided to trade on with the Something Rain, survives on an inherent literary bent and easy listenability. Other than a handful of tracks that maintain some brief levity, The Something Rain would only classify as easy listening for the gloom ridden. The literati can have their moment with the record, as “Chocolate” proves, but there’s precious little here to drawn in new blood.

Tindersticks – The Something Rain tracklist:

1. “Chocolate”
2. “Show Me Everything”
3. “The Fire of Autumn”
4. “A Night to Still”
5. “Slippin’ Shoes”
6. “Medicine”
7. “Frozen”
8. “Come Inside”
9. “Goodbye Joe”

Here is a generalization, if you will, about a couple of typical Sleigh Bells fans.

Meet Rob. In his words, he’s “a musician with a bartending hobby.” His favorite group is The Smiths, and his most played Sleigh Bells song is the low-key “Rill Rill.” For the band’s sophomore album, Reign of Terror, he’s hoping for less screeching bombast and more melodic emphasis. Now meet Rob’s friend Ashley. She’s an account executive by day, post-collegiate party girl by night. Her favorite artist is Kanye West, her favorite Sleigh Bells song is the uptempo “Kids.” When she heard the news about the new album’s release, she was anticipating a new level of speaker-abusing blare. Who gets their way?

Trick question: neither of them.

On the Brooklyn duo’s 2010 debut, Treats, Sleigh Bells mixed these two dynamics to create a sound like Swizz Beatz leading a pep rally (if you closed your eyes, you’d could almost expect Jadakiss or Drag-On to start spitting over the throwback bounce of “Crown on the Ground”).

Treats stood out because it was physical, aggressive music in a landscape suffering from muscular atrophy. Two years later, Sleigh Bells no longer have novelty on their side, and Skrillex just scooped up Grammys like a shopper with no time for a cart. But while it ain’t no dubstep, Reign is also neither carbon copy nor total reinvention. Instead, Alexis “Sexi Lexi” Krauss and perpetually Ray Banned guitarist Derek Miller have cooked up the same dish with added spices.

Remember that Year Punk Broke-meets-Evita album trailer? Reign of Terror takes the teaser’s most chilling moments and stretches them across 11 tracks. Krauss’ lullabye vocals still follow those simple 1-2-3-2 patterns over meathead guitar riffs, but now there are wails of feedback, ghostly winds and creeping ambience dripping down the sides. Songs like “Demons” coo and bang in perfect harmony, and when Krauss sneers, “They’re gonna bury you/They’re gonna finish/They’re gonna lay you out brick by brick by brick,” you can’t help but want to join the torch mob.

Sixteen years ago, a two-man/two-woman power-pop group called Imperial Teen shot to the top of the indie music stratosphere with the release of their critically lauded debut album Seasick. Fast-forward to 2012, and these queer alt-rockers from San Francisco are back to deliver another sonic boom: their first new album in five years (and only their fifth studio release to date).

With each of its 11 tracks brimming with joyful verve, Feel the Sound is an invitation to forget all your cares and jam out to one high-energy, pop-rock anthem after another. Drawing inspiration from such diverse artists as Prince, Squeeze and The Who, this lively quartet (consisting of guitarist Will Schwartz, bassist Jone Stebbins, drummer Lynn Truell and lead vocalist Roddy Bottum of Faith No More) pushes all the right buttons for the iPod generation while still keeping their signature playfulness intact. Thankfully, Feel the Sound never loses its cheeky sense of fun—proving that even though Imperial Teen is all grown up, its music remains eternally youthful.

“Runaway” kicks off the album with a radio-ready hook of swirling, symphonic bliss. All four members of the band alternate on vocals, pounding out a sing-along chorus that glides effortlessly over the steady beat of drums and keys. Other toe-tappers include “Hanging About” (a heady exercise of futuristic reverb and ambient synth) and “No Matter What You Say” (a dizzy concoction of churning guitars and layered “ahhh”s). Deliciously snarky lyrics also abound, particularly on the quintessentially gay “Last to Know” (“Pumped up pecs and sticky skin/Floors unswept and walls are thin/Were you the last to know?”).

Although every song is buoyed by cheerful waves of enthusiasm, a few of them also contain undercurrents of melancholy. “The Hibernates” crafts a creepy nursery rhyme with its punctuated piano and droning bass, while “All the Same” and “Don’t Know How You Do It” mourn their lost loves with an unsettling mix of synthesizers and strings. However, the most mesmerizing track is the album’s closer: a lush orchestration of histrionic keys and warped vocals that is aptly titled “Overtaken.”

Bottum and his band mates are clearly comfortable in their niche of upbeat electro-pop, as the glossy production of this record doesn’t leave much room for creative risk-taking. Their rambunctious rhythms are charming on a surface level, but unfortunately lack the subtle nuance that could elevate their music beyond its impishly self-aware girl/boy shtick. Still, the songs on this album resound in listener’s ears long after their flimsy meanings have faded away. In the end, these spirited “Teens” have discovered a formula that works: enticing us to just let go and Feel the Sound. 

Imperial Teen – Feel the Sound tracklist:

1. Runaway
2. No Matter What You Say
3. Last to Know
4. Over His Head
5. Hanging About
6. All the Same
7. Don’t Know How You Do It
8. Out From Inside
9. The Hibernates
10. It’s You
11. Overtaken

Dr. Dog is a Pennsylvania-based band that’s been quietly chugging out albums since 1999, and although it’s never really reached massive success, it’s established a dedicated cult following through a clever mixture of indie and psychedelic rock. On Feb. 7, Dr. Dog dropped its newest album, Be the Void, and while it still might not take them to the big time, it’s a fun album and one that fans of the band will surely appreciate.

Dr. Dog is not a difficult band to enjoy. Most songs have a good number of elegantly simple vocal harmonies and clean, bouncy basslines. Everything else sounds like a standard psych-rock band, just made a little bit noisy. Pianos sometimes hit the wrong pitch, guitars are a little bit fuzzy, and percussion is hazy, using a lot of shakers instead of entirely relying on a concrete drum kit. Despite all this rough backing instrumentation, a lot of focus is placed on the very clean-cut vocals that power each song, which keeps the band on track nicely and makes the music very accessible.

A lot of times, pushing the band to the back makes for an unsatisfying experience, but this focus on vocals and lyricism pays off for Dr. Dog because Be the Void does a very good job establishing an overarching vibe or theme: despite the usually upbeat music, the lyrics are tinged with guilt, a drifting sort of melancholia, a pastoral longing for the past and a desire to escape loneliness.

This is evident straight from the aptly named intro, “Loneliness,” a western-influenced barn stomp of a song that climaxes with a heartbreaking chorus: “What does it take to be lonesome?/Nothing at all.” This sentiment is followed immediately by “That Old Black Hole,” a very poppy and fun song whose lyrics explore futility, nihilism and fate. But it isn’t just the first two songs: this sadness continues throughout the entire album and is even reflected in the album’s title, the void presumably being a sort of emotional emptiness or escape from feeling.

Every song fits nicely into this theme and makes the album into a very complete artistic statement, but that doesn’t mean that every song is a winner. A few tracks such as “Do the Trick” and “Heavy Light” are sort of forgettable. They aren’t necessarily bad songs; they just don’t pop out or surprise the listeners the way that other songs do.

Luckily, these few bland tracks are still heavily outweighed by classics such as the aforementioned “Loneliness” and “That Old Black Hole,” the scratchy hook-driven “These Days” or the lurching, tempo-twisting “Vampire.” Special kudos goes to “Warrior Man,” which distinguishes itself by being a little more spacey and psychedelic than the rest of the album, with slightly more watery vocals and a very subtle but very cool retro synthesizer riff. While not every song is a winner, the vast majority of tracks are, and the album is still a very enjoyable experience from start to finish.

Be the Void is Dr. Dog’s seventh full-length album, but hopefully, it isn’t their last. Despite a few small missteps here and there, the band has created an album that is accessible and fun, an interesting blend of lo-fi with psychedelic that is both innovative and immediately familiar.

Dr. Dog – Be the Void tracklist:

1. “Lonesome”
2. “That Old Black Hole”
3. “These Days”
4. “How Long Must I Wait”
5. “Get Away”
6. “Do the Trick”
7. “Vampire”
8. “Heavy Light”
9. “Big Girl”
10. “Over Here, Over There”
11. “Warrior Man”
12. “Turning the Century”

What changes when an artist steps into a studio? Is the change a chemical one, rendering the artist a different person? Or is it one of perception, a change affected within the listener recognizing that this is not the basic, intimate artist that we have come to know? This recognition is essential to the idea of the sophomore album, especially in this, the day of unreasonable expectation levied upon unproven lo-fi or bedroom artists. In the case of Mike Hadreas, aka Perfume Genius, the question is whether, on his first release Learning, we valued the intimate, close-at-hand DIY-ness of the production, or Hadreas’ budding and frequently beautiful artistry? And which side of that coin would be more important when the time came for him to choose between one or the other?

Put Your Back N 2 It, the sadly twee-titled follow-up to Learning, is a bit of a cypher in this regard. Hadreas certainly buffed up his fidelity; everything here is eminently accessible, sometimes even reasonably anthemic. Opener “AWOL Marine” is all echo-laden dreamscape, replete with the gentle cooing of, “AWOL Marine/Turn toward the camera/Slowly.” But the first shock takes hold on the album’s second song, the quixotic waltz “Normal Song,” which is abnormally built from a consistent guitar melody. Hadreas speaks his aesthetic mind early and often on the record, modulating his voice and employing wall-of-sound drums on the reverent turn-away ballad “No Tear.” There’s nothing markedly different from Hadreas’ approach on Put Your Back N 2 It, but each song plays off the others more cohesively. As can be common with sophomore albums, Back is the first indication that Hadreas can craft a cohesive album. Where the difference between “Write to Your Brother” and “No Problem” is jarring, the transition between the plaintive, growing up ballad “17” to the gospel-inflected “Take Me Home” bears out much more grace.

The problem, then, is that the songs don’t seem to be growing up any further. They all have the same nose-to-nose intimacy to them, but halfway through the record, there’s a bit of icy cool to Perfume Genius’ method. Here, Hadreas is more clearly expressing his soul. The results are as bleak and frail as they were on Learning, but the haunting effect of the songs is less real, more constructed. Perhaps Hadreas’ magic was in requirement of a certain hard-looking musical ear; the only reward is the one we have to reach for, after all.

More pressing, however, is that many of the songs feel unfinished. While Learning felt completely fleshed out, Put Your Back N 2 It feels almost too slight, the songs ending sometimes just 10 seconds before they should. Take, for example, the closing lullaby. While no one would presume to say the song deserves a full three-and-a-half minute treatment, its ending is just that small bit too short. Many of the songs take on this aura: “No Tear,” “All Waters” and the propulsive (!) “Hood” most glaring among them. All of the songs are ably executed, and none particularly miss the mark (“Dirge” being the lone exception). At the end of “Sister Song,” however, Put Your Back N 2 It doesn’t so much beg repeated listens to discover hidden gems as much as it asks whether you’ll dive back in to discover why it’s so short.

On a whole, however, Hadreas’ beautiful dreams still spring to life across the expanse that is Perfume Genius’ second record; he just may have prematurely approached a studio. The best track on the album, “Dark Parts,” hints at a possible, if distant and dreamlike, mentor for Hadreas: Sufjan Stevens. The intimacy with which Hadreas croons his “oh-woahs” on “Dark Parts” has beautiful communion with Stevens, and indeed Perfume Genius’ rise mirrors Stevens’ in a way. So the questions of his hi-fi turns on this record are rendered moot; by sticking to his own formula, Perfume Genius has illumined a possible career path that is both attainable and highly laudable. Put Your Back N 2 It isn’t the record to get there, but it’s testament to Mike Hadreas’ cloudy-eyed songwriting smarts that he’s still on the path after stepping into a studio.

Perfume Genius – Put Your Back N 2 It tracklist:

1. “AWOL Marine”
2. “Normal Song”
3. “No Tear”
4. “17”
5. “Take Me Home”
6. “Dirge”
7. “Dark Parts”
8. “All Waters”
9. “Hood”
10. “Put Your Back N 2 It”
11. “Floating Spit”
12. “Sister Song”