Pop 'stache

If it were possible to purchase stock in a band, now would be the time to update the portfolio and grab a few shares of The Young Rapscallions. Since the release of their LP, Everything Vibrates, the quartet of Jonathan Sanders, Taylor Messersmith, Nick Chamian and kick-ass drummer Chris Mintz-Plasse have been hitting the pavement tirelessly, building a rabid fan base. In the process, the group has come a long way in the progression of its sound.

Building off of the best parts of Vibrates, It Is What It Is demonstrates growth by taking what worked and making it better. It Is What It Is picks up where songs such as “Frankenstein’s Daughter” left off, with Sanders calmly controlling the microphone over cryptic, but head nod-inducing backdrops.

“Shirker” sets the EP off with an aggressive start, with Chamian and Messersmith ushering in the listeners with a heavy riff where they are eventually joined by Mintz-Plasse, who crashes the party and wastes no time, going all out on the kit. Sanders confidently questions reality with a smooth vocal that would fit seamlessly in the heart of the early New York City punk scene, all brought together by an anthem-worthy ending.

“One Hard Push” slows things down a bit, showcasing the group’s versatility. It’s almost as if the group is shape-shifting its way through different eras of rock without ever becoming unrecognizable as themselves. “Quit Milling About” keeps things on that same melodic path, letting Chamian zone out with some epic solos while Mintz-Plasse gradually ups the ante, pushing the track harder and harder throughout.

“Ideas” might be Sanders’ strongest vocal track as he navigates the landscape with soothing cries of reflection and screams of angst. But as a whole, the group saves its best for last with the sincere “Middae.” “Oh, I didn’t question, the lines up in the sky. …won’t someone tell me why?”

Coming off of a quick East Coast/West Coast tour that culminated in a star-studded, blowout release show for It Is What It Is at The Roxy on the Sunset Strip, it would be easy for this group to lose focus and get wrapped up in the rock star life that’s inches away from their fingertips. But, never ones to build hype off of star power like they could, they chose to focus on honing their craft, and It Is What It Is is evidence of that effort. The same qualities that allowed Everything Vibrates to be good allowed this short, but sweet, EP to be just a little bit better. It provides optimism for what’s to come from the Young Rapscallions in the near future.

The Young Rapscallions – It Is What It Is tracklist:

1. “Shirker”
2. “One Hard Push”
3. “it is what it is/Quit Milling About”
4. “Ideas”
5. “Middae”

Bears are quickly becoming the new wolf or deer: a stock “indie animal” that can be awkwardly forced into any band name (Grizzly Bear, Panda Bear, Minus the Bear, Boy & Bear, Sea Bear, etc.) to make it sound generically quirky. So, when the name Message to Bears comes up, you would be forgiven for immediately assuming it to be the name of a cute, if forgettable, folk-pop group. Luckily, nothing could be further from the truth: Message to Bears, solo recording project of multi-instrumentalist Jerome Alexander, is something much more interesting, and his newest album, Folding Leaves, is something really special.

If pressed to assign the album to a concrete genre, Folding Leaves could perhaps be described as “ambient chamber folk” with its syncopated trip-hop-inspired drums. Admittedly, this sounds a little ridiculous, but it’s a really interesting mixture of very different musical elements and one that plays out in a surprisingly natural way.

The album refuses to confine itself to traditional structure and instead opts to make expansive, freeing soundscapes that grow and breathe. Most of the songs on the album go well past the four-minute mark and benefit greatly from that extra time. It’s time spent slowly building, climaxing and fading out with an almost effortless grace.

Vocals are sparse and haunting, usually hiding behind the pull of strings on a violin or the strum of an acoustic guitar. It’s all very peaceful, relaxed and frankly, quite beautiful.

Every song on the nine-track album is worth a listen, but special mention must be given to one of the later tracks, “At a Glance.” It builds quickly into a subdued chant accompanied by a horde of backing instruments that dramatically drop out about halfway through, transforming an open, voluminous song into a very small and personal one. It’s a dynamic change that takes listeners by surprise—a powerful and deeply emotional moment.

Other great tracks include “Bird’s Tail,” which slowly swells from humble beginnings into a epic sprawl of ghostly strings and pounding drums. “Wake Me,” a song backed by a looped recording of a distant bird call, subtly plays with the greater song’s tempo but also gives the already very rustic, acoustic guitar-driven song a natural setting, a sort of place and atmosphere. It’s a rare example of sampling being used in a very organic way, and it’s really done well here.

Honestly though, every track here is a winner, and the album works best as a complete whole, perfectly delivering the listener from one track to the next.

Message to Bears could not have picked a more accurate name for this album, because Folding Leaves is just that: a dense, multilayered, organic experience. The tuning of the guitar, the timbre of the violins, the haunting vocals, the upbeat drums, the sampled wilderness; everything on this album blends together seamlessly and effortlessly. It’s a rare experience and one that everyone should at least try out. This is the sound of a big world made intimate.

Message to Bears – Folding Leaves tracklist:

1. “Daylight Goodbye”
2. “Wake Me”
3. “Mountains”
4. “Bird’s Tail”
5. “Farewell, Stars”
6. “Undone”
7. “At a Glance”
8. “Everything Was Covered in Snow”
9. “Unleft”

As a culture, we all may be a little romantically dysfunctional. High Fidelity was hardly the first time that somebody observed the way we talk about, think about, and tell stories about romance.

Right down to its title, No One Loves You Like I Do, the latest offering from Kansas City-based The Life And Times walks the line between old romantic cliché and dark, disturbing undercurrents. For instance, this is an album that comes directly from a place where “I Love You” is not just a promise, but also a threat and a desperate, breathless plea. Loves takes the narrative route, with each “chapter” marked by different days in a 12-day period.

Although not an explicit narrative (days “Four” and “Seven” are noticeably absent), the story unfolds in bits and pieces, courtesy of a detached narrator, droning, “I love you/ I’ll keep you forever/ They want you/ Don’t listen/ I’ll tell you all the things you need to know.” Told out of order (the tracklist begins with “Day Six”) and over sparse, airy instrumentation, the storytelling is dry and unnerving. Loves takes the traditional indie-rock formula of dark lyrics layered over cheerful hooks and reverses it, turning the predictable sadsack routine into sociopathic optimism. Chilling.

Unfortunately, The Life And Times have yet to display a musical range capable of complementing such an excellent concept. They wear their progressive-rock roots very firmly on their sleeves, which causes many of the record’s songs to slip into an indistinct buzz. This doesn’t mean there aren’t standouts; see “Day One,” which blends fuzzy instrumentation and ethereal vocals with an excellent driving beat, as the narrator—ever the victim and villain—watches the object of his affection as she sleeps. Surely, it must be “love.” Also compelling is “Day Three,” vaguely recalling a fight while taking the chance to remind listeners that “history will eat itself” in a manner that is, oddly enough, strangely hopeful.

This is an album that comes directly from a place where “I Love You” is not just a promise, but also a threat and a desperate, breathless plea.

Overall, the problem with Loves isn’t the ambition; it’s the muddy, half-assed execution. Where the album should be groundbreaking, it instead leads the audience into the middle of the story and simply abandons them. The cough syrup-drunk vocals simply aren’t capable of delivering the range of emotion that the band seems to strive for. When it works, it works well. Sadly, it doesn’t work well enough nor often enough. The deadpan “I Love You”s of the record are dark and brooding, but aren’t nearly as head-turning as they should be. Is the delivery meant to evoke anger? Despair? Fear?

Herein lies the problem of making a concept-album-length narrative out of Loves’ strong central conceit: the band just doesn’t seem have the musical range to tell an album-length story. Strong songs are packed next to songs that sound all too similar, and both wind up worse instead of better for the context. Ultimately, Loves is a sonic landscape with zero inhabitants, a fireworks display without a heart. Despite having chosen to dwell in a thematic place that other artists are merely content to dip their toes in, The Life And Times are not nearly as interesting as they could be. The result is an aggravatingly inoffensive record about offensive people and even more offensive song structures, thereby making the entire affair (ironically) all the more damnable. Loves, a concept record with stalkers who fail to make a move and melodies that sit apathetically on the sidelines, falls short not for what it is, but rather, what it isn’t.

The Life and Times – No One Loves You Like I Do tracklist:

1. “Day Six”
2. “Day Nine”
3. “Day One”
4. “Day Five”
5. “Day Three”
6. “Day Eleven”
7. “Day Ten”
8. “Day Two”
9. “Day Twelve”
10. “Day Eight”

Screamo bands have always had less-than-ideal associations. The genre spawned quite naturally out of the late-1980s emo scene, slowly growing into emo’s more angular and abrasive counterpart. Over the years, the term shifted, becoming synonymous with Victory Records-style acts from the early aughts. However, the genre’s progenitors continued to be influential to small contingents within the hardcore community, ensuring that this sound would never become obsolete.

Formed in 2005, San Francisco’s Loma Prieta channeled the angst and aggression of early screamo acts, quickly proving itself to the hardcore scene. The songs that comprised Our LP is Your EP were direct, pointed efforts that bared all of screamo’s signatures—loud-quiet dynamics, blast beats and indecipherable screams. Not content to become mere revivalists, Loma Prieta spent years—and several albums—honing its sound into something wholly unique.

I.V., the band’s first release for Deathwish Inc., showcases just how powerful the group has become in that time. Each new full-length the four-piece released saw it progress in one manner or another, but I.V. is a compelling case as to why Loma Prieta may be one of hardcore’s best acts.

“Fly By Night,” the album’s heavily distorted opener, sees Loma Prieta shying away from genre conventions. Instead of jagged loud-quiet transitions, it goes straight for the gut. The track’s discordant hardcore is an abrupt declaration, but it is the song’s culmination that is most interesting. The guitars pull back, creating a lighter melodic line that is about as catchy as anything on a modern pop-punk album. It is an unexpected shift from the quartet, but one that shows Loma Prieta has pushed itself into a new dimension.

At only 25 minutes in length, I.V. makes use of each precious second, never allowing itself room to falter. When the band is on the attack—which is more often than not—it bleeds tracks into one another, keeping the listener from ever being able to take a breath. Each of the 12 songs on I.V. strikes a balance between musical complexity and focused bursts of energy. It’s something evinced in the lyrics as well. On “Trilogy 5 ‘Half Cross’” the impassioned screams of, “I’m closed for business you fucking idiots,” and, “I don’t believe in shit,” find ways to encapsulate everything about Loma Prieta.

There is not a moment of I.V. that feels purposeless or meandering. The riffs are perhaps the heaviest they’ve ever been, and Jack Shirley’s mix gives great balance to a group that used to get lost when transitioning between stylistic approaches. I.V. is, by far, Loma Prieta’s best work to date. The group has been a well-kept secret for years, but I.V. proves that they will soon be on everyone’s radar—and with good reason.

Loma Prieta – I.V. tracklist:

1. “Fly By Night”
2. “Torn Portrait”
3. “Reproductive”
4. “Trilogy 4 ‘Momentary’”
5. “Trilogy 5 ‘Half Cross’”
6. “Trilogy 6 ‘Forgetting’”
7. “Untitled”
8. “Uniform”
9. “Uselessness”
10. “Aside from This Distant Shadow, There Is Nothing Left”
11. “Biography”
12. “Diamond Tooth”

Over the course of two full-length albums and numerous split 7-inches, Lansing, Mich.’s Cheap Girls has been positioning itself as the makeshift savior of power pop. The trio, consisting of guitarist Adam Aymor and the brothers Graham—Ian on bass/vocals and Ben on drums—has found ways to transform Gin Blossoms influence and sugary-sweet hooks into something fresh.

It’s no surprise that Cheap Girls’ third album and first for Rise Records, Giant Orange, opens with “Gone All Summer,” a sonic declaration of everything the band is capable of. Aymor’s guitar work is as solid as ever, avoiding all the boring pop-rock tropes, as the rhythm section gives the track propulsive energy.

What is decidedly different on “Gone All Summer” is Ian Graham’s outlook, which highlights the positive aspects of his life for a change. “I don’t know when I’ll be coming back to work/ I’ve been gone all summer, and I think it’s for the greater good,” sings Ian, showing that sometimes constant touring isn’t such a bad thing. Yet the more things change, the more they stay the same. “Ruby” sees Ian plead with the titular character to stay with him, displaying that Cheap Girls is still capable of crafting poppy music rife with downtrodden lyrics.

The production—courtesy of Against Me!’s Tom Gabel—is another marked change for the band. Where Find Me a Drink Home was rough around the edges and My Roaring 20’s felt muddy in spots, Gabel’s production allows for Cheap Girls to flourish. While the group has always written great songs, this is the first time that the record paints an accurate picture of what the band actually sounds like. The guitars are massive yet never overbearing, and the rhythm section has never sounded crisper. On the acoustic “Cored to Empty,” Gabel’s production showcases Ian Graham’s unique vocal approach and that even stripped-down, the band can still craft gigantic hooks.

As Giant Orange progresses, it is obvious that Cheap Girls is comfortable in its skin. Its sound is fully developed, and with that has come confidence. Ian Graham’s vocals appear to have added power while the instrumentation seems more deliberate than ever before.

It would be a boldface lie to claim that Cheap Girls were bringing anything other than infectious pieces of pop-rock to the table, but sometimes that’s all that needs to happen. Much like the Gin Blossoms on New Miserable Experience, there’s nothing earth-shattering here, but there doesn’t need to be. There may not be a breakout hit like the Blossoms’ “Hey Jealousy,” but each track on Giant Orange displays that that kind of early-1990s rock still has a place in this modern world. Cheap Girls proves that, three albums deep, it has not run out of ideas. In fact, the group’s never been better.

Cheap Girls – Giant Orange tracklist:

1. “Gone All Summer”
2. “Ruby”
3. “Communication Blues”
4. “Cored to Empty”
5. “Manhattan on Mute”
6. “Mercy-Go-‘Round”
7. “If You Can’t Swim”
8. “On/Off Switches”
9. “Pacer”
10. “Right Way”

While Scottish trio The Twilight Sad made a huge bang with their 2007 debut Fourteen Autumns and Fifteen Winters, its 2009 follow-up Forget the Night Ahead indicated that the group might struggle  in advancing their sound enough to make them a long-term player. The melodic, vocal approach to modern post-rock was indeed a fresh and stimulating listen, but just like the groups that informed their core sound, they ran the risk of getting stale quickly. Fortunately with No One Can Ever Know, the band circumvents expectation, and the result will be a reinvigorating listen for fans.

The band has cited Depeche Mode and Nine Inch Nails as influences for this record, and indeed there is a brooding, industrial undertone to a lot of these tracks. Rather than elicit the explosive tendencies of Scottish peers Mogwai as they have done previously, The Twilight Sad takes a slow-building approach (Krautrock has also been cited by the group for the album’s inspiration), increasing tension over the course of the track and, moreover, the course of the album.

Opener “Alphabet” appropriately establishes the style and mood of the album. Its simple, steady beat is met with minimal synth textures as the band starts layering the sound on through to the end. Frontman James Graham belts, “So sick to death of the sight of you now,” in the chorus. It’s a good hook that many fans will be able to relate with and sing along to.

On “Dead City,” it is apparent that Graham is struggling with the high notes more than before. The song features a big chorus and while its written well, Graham can’t quite execute. It’s easy to hear him strain to reach the high note, and then he kind of sloppily comes down from it. The strain isn’t used for effect, it is an effect, which is a shame because this track is otherwise an excellent one with a driving bassline and general intensity. The good thing is that’s really the only fault on the entire album.

Graham isn’t letting anyone in on what these songs are really about (No One Can Ever Know—get it?), but for those times the lyrics are decipherable through his thick accent, listeners will be treated to eerie scenes from a troubled conscience. “Don’t Move,” which resurrects the post-punk revival  sound of early Editors and Bloc Party, features the line, “I want you more than you will ever know,” and with its ghostly synthesizers, it draws a rather dark and creepy picture of desire. Many have tried to be like Joy Division, but here, The Twilight Sad actually comes close. The key is that they do it on their own terms, not by mimicking. There is an honestly tormented soul behind this song and the feeling translates.

The second half really kicks things into gear when “Don’t Look at Me” starts building momentum for the finish. It seems to continue the musical and lyrical matter of “Don’t Move” with the recurring line, “I still watch you,” peering through another synth-heavy mass of sound and an even faster beat.

Finally, whereas the band’s first two albums ended on a softer note, “Kill It in the Morning” sends things out with a bang. It is a gritty rocker that pulls out all the stops. Graham gives his best overall vocal performance, and musically, it even has a bit of a finale built in.

It must be awful to go through whatever Graham is going through, but the man has made a hell of an album out of it. There’s not much in the way of innovation, but it perfectly conveys a mood throughout its nine tracks and proves that The Twilight Sad isn’t a one-trick pony.

The Twilight Sad – No One Can Ever Know tracklist:

1. “Alphabet”
2. “Dead City”
3. “Sick”
4. “Don’t Move”
5. “Nil”
6. “Don’t Look at Me”
7. “Not Sleeping”
8. “Another Bed”
9. “Kill It in the Morning”

Put on your best set of noise-canceling headphones and for the love of God, don’t drive or operate any heavy machinery while listening to (Mankind) The Crafty Ape. Crippled Black Phoenix has created one of the richest, lushest soundscapes in recent memory. When you hear it, you are going to want to do everything possible to trap yourself in a world where there is just you and the music. This album is a point-by-point refutation of all the most common problems with big, dark, ambitious sounds, and it’s almost perfectly crafted from beginning to end.

Crippled Black Phoenix is a supergroup, formed by musicians who were all involved with other projects, notably Dominic Aitchison of Mogwai, although drummer Justin Greaves (Electric Wizard) is the driving force behind the band. Since 2006, members have been recording “entime ballades,” a term meant to refer to both the occasionally bleak tone of their work, and also their skill at combining musical tools and styles that range from modern to Victorian into a cohesive whole. The genius of Crippled Black Phoenix isn’t so much in its subject matter as it is its craftsmanship.

One of the most common criticisms leveled against albums with a strong prog-rock influence is that they write checks that they can’t cash. They have crescendos that can’t live up to overly long buildups, or they have overly loud crescendos without any variation. If you want to get away from all that and hear a mastery of pacing and poise so complete that it’s positively theatrical, you’ve got it on “The Heart of Every Country.” This is a song that, like a fantastic performer, draws the listener in with a quiet beginning so masterfully done that your heart catches in your throat and then builds sublimely to a finish that is big and touching. Whatever you were hoping to get done during the full 10 minutes of this song? Forget it, because you’ll be hanging on every note.

The very next track, “Get Down and Live With It” is another triumph of musical craftsmanship. It’s one of the hardest-rocking tracks on the album, with driving drums, desperate, half-shouted cries and backing gospel vocals that are by turns chilling and uplifting. Never once do the distinct pieces of this number melt together into an over-loud indistinct fuzz. It’s a wonderfully dark-sounding song with a distinct beginning, middle and end, like a good story. There are lyrics, but the real triumph of this piece is creating mood and a sense of narrative without ever really needing to say a single word.

There are lyrics, but the real triumph of this piece is creating mood and a sense of narrative without ever really needing to say a single word.

It’s astonishing just how good Crippled Black Phoenix is at playing with genre. Listen to the band ape bits from other distinct styles and make them their own. For example, “(What?),” a wonderfully jazzy interlude worlds apart from the rocking “The Heart of Every Country” or the barfight from “Release the Clowns.” For one glorious moment at the start of “Born in a Hurricane” the band announces itself with a glorious big-bandlike flourish before doubling down into a stripped-down call-to-arms, and it sounds great. The credit goes to the perfect sense of flow and pacing.

Pacing guides individual songs such as the epic end-piece “Faced with Complete Failure, Utter Defiance Is the Only Response” from quiet to intense and back again. That same flow also guides one song perfectly into the next, putting swells of music and whispered moments exactly where they need to be. It puts even the most carefully constructed concept album to shame with the care that’s been taken to create a complete product. The end result is an album that demands to be listened to as a whole, which is never a chore despite its length.

Of course, no album can be all things to everyone. This is a rich, dense album with musical ambitious that the less charitable might misconstrue as pretentious. Any listener who felt their ears perk up at that description should let nothing stop them from hunting down this near-perfect jewel of craftsmanship. Like any good novel, it rewards the careful listener each time it is experienced.

Crippled Black Phoenix — (Mankind) The Crafty Ape tracklist:

1. “Chapter I (A Thread): Nothing (We Are…)”
2. “Chapter I (A Thread): The Heart of Every Country”
3. “Chapter I (A Thread): Get Down and Live With It”
4. “Chapter I (A Thread): (In Yonder Marsh)”
5. “Chapter I (A Thread): A Letter Concerning Dogsheads”
6. “Chapter I (A Thread): The Brain/Poznan”
7. “Chapter II (The Trap): Laying Traps”
8. “Chapter II (The Trap): Born in a Hurricane”
9. “Chapter II (The Trap): Release the Clowns”
10. “Chapter II (The Trap): (What?)”
11. “Chapter III: (The Blues of Man): A Suggestion (Not a Very Nice One)”
12. “Chapter III: (The Blues of Man): (Dig, Bury, Deny)”
13. “Chapter III: (The Blues of Man): Operation Mincemeat”
14. “Chapter III: (The Blues of Man): We Will Never Get Out of This World Alive”
15. “Chapter III: (The Blues of Man): Faced with Complete Failure, Utter Defiance Is the Only Response”

This has been the year of some stellar 1980s-throwback electronic albums. In the past few years, hazy synthesizer made its resurgence, and now harmonized vocals are basically a necessity. Australian duo Canyons followed this trend with their debut LP Keep Your Dreams but only manage to be successful in a few tracks.

Canyons is slightly jumbled and, at times, sloppy. This might honestly be the point, though. One minute, jungle animals are chiming in, and the next, a gritty saxophone goes on a tangent. Electronic music of any kind should not only allow, but also encourage dancing, and Keep Your Dreams inhibits it nearly too often.

Sydney-based Ryan Grieve and Leo Thomson make up the disco duo obsessed with collaged music. As any DJ duo, these two can creatively weave cultures and soundscapes into one. But these Aussies weirdly blend Chicago house with ‘80s synth, tribal beats and a bunch of other random sounds together. It’s a hodge-podge if nothing less, especially on “Under a Blue Sky.”

It starts off sounding good with a poppy bassline. Toe tapping ensues and maybe even a little head bob. Wait, is that an elephant? Yes, it is. Then, creepy vocals chime in and something strange begins to happen. A whistling saxophone takes over and lands on repeat for quite some time. “Under a Blue Sky” seems like Canyons are simultaneously recording and playing Jumanji. Let’s hope they get out alive.

It’s not all strange, though. “See Blind Through” is an ode to ‘80s Chicago house music with echoed vocals layered on top of basslines, circulating keyboard and danceable beats, while the next track, “Sun and Moon,” is a groovy retro jam with funky sax and high-pitched vocals.

Canyons is a complicated, two-toned multiple-personality. It’s like a little kids wearing everything in the closet because their mommy gave them the option to wear whatever they want. Putting everything on at once just doesn’t make sense.

“When I See You Again” is a little unsure of itself. The vocals are reminiscent of contemporary pop, and the strings range from country-tinged to tightly woven Spanish licks. This track comes on the down-turned second half of the album. Their maximalist attitude is overturned by steady beats and simplistic sounds that linger for the remainder of Keep Your Dreams.

Canyons seemed to have a grasp on what they were trying to accomplish, but the execution was a little sour. Even though we are living in the age of multi-taskers, Canyons’ shouldn’t take it too literally. Cleaning up the sound and deleting some of those tasks could result in an epic second release.

 Canyons – Keep Your Dreams tracklist:

1. “Circadia”
2. “Under a Blue Sky”
3. “My Rescue”
4. “See Blind Through”
5. “Sun and Moon”
6. “The Bridge”
7. “Blue Snakes”
8. “Tonight”
9. “When I See You Again”
10. “And We Dance”
11. “Land in Between”

After collaborative works with Prins Thomas and Christabelle, Hans-Peter Lindstrøm has recorded the follow-up proper to his 2008 debut full-length, Where You Go I Go Too. Six Cups of Rebel is another 55-minute set of disco-infused techno, but instead of three massive pieces (tracks on Where You Go I Go Too ranged from 10 to 29 minutes), this new effort provides seven shorter, easier to digest tracks.

Lindstrøm’s influence from the 1970s and ’80s is ever apparent: from the analog synthesizers and four-on-the-floor beats of disco to the meticulous arrangements and large sonic scope of prog rock, he’s got it all. The result is a balance of nostalgia and futurism that few artists have been able to attain since The Avalanches’ seminal work Since I Left You. While it’s more than unlikely that this album will have half the impact and lasting power of said work, it is a fun ride that can earn some playback this year.

After “No Releases” opens the album in an oddly repetitive and hypnotic manner, like if Rick Wakeman wrote an intro track for Pink Floyd,  “De Javu” starts the fun with some funky, sweet basslines and endlessly danceable rhythms. There are some goofy vocals inserted into the track, but they work with the music. Lindstrøm uses vocals here in a similar manner that Velella Velella has done in the past: they present another melody and a lyrical hook but don’t carry the track like they would in a typical dance-pop song.

It is apparent that this effort focuses more on the dance floor and less on the stars. The lush, spacey textures are still there, but the rhythm section is slightly more pronounced, with more of a pop to it. And on the whole, it just sounds brighter, as reflected in the hot colors that make up the album’s artwork.

“Magik” continues the excitement with lots of live drums and pitch-modulated vocals. The synthesizers border on cheesy, but their placements and usage are so perfectly thought out and executed that listeners can only smile. Justice tried this sort of approach on their last record, but Lindstrøm actually makes it work.

“Call Me Anytime” and “Hina” are the two 10-minute tracks on the album, employing a similar flow and construction as the shorter numbers on Where You Go I Go Too. The latter is a particularly strong track and a great closer. There are polyrhythms galore as the drums bounce in and out of phase with the spellbinding synths while lush vocoded vocals float on top. The track cuts abruptly into the arpeggiated notes from the intro, suggesting the listener give it another go. It’s not good enough to warrant an immediate replay, but the next time they want to get their dance on, they will likely look here.

Six Cups of Rebel is a simply jubilant album. It’ll lift the spirit of anyone who lays ears on it. Lindstrøm is a master of his craft, piecing together sounds from all kinds of sources to reflect where he came from and where he wants to go. The only issue that arises with such a painstaking technique is that sometimes there’s too much going on for it to sit in the background, but there’s not much that will stick with the listener when it’s over. It’s very much an in-the-moment sort of album, and in that moment, it’s a very good one.

Lindstrøm – Six Cups of Rebel tracklist:

1. “No Release”
2. “De Javu”
3. “Magik”
4. “Quiet Place to Live”
5. “Call Me Anytime”
6. “Six Cups of Rebel”
7. “Hina”

In January 2011, the music community fell in love with husband-wife duo Tennis. Cape Dory, their debut LP inspired by their honeymoon sailing voyage up the East Coast, was ripe with foot-tapping surf rock. Made with equal parts camp and smart musicianship, the album was a clean, final flourish to the beach-inspired bands that dominated 2010. Cape Dory, which kept winter months warm and bouncy, was an endearing introduction to Tennis, and it made them an earlier frontrunner for our favorite music couple of this decade.

Set for a Valentine’s Day release, Tennis’ second LP takes a step away from beach party anthems. Young & Old shows a band that has very much grown into its sound; in fact, at first impression the band is only recognizable from Alaina Moore’s reedy soprano. After multiple listens, it still stands that Tennis has veered from the delicate compositions of Cape Dory, replacing them with a bigger, louder sound. This new-found grit can be attributed to production work from The Black Keys’ Patrick Carney. Carney’s signature garage fuzz gives their saccharine tendencies a little bit of crunch.

The guitar lick that opens the first track “It All Feels the Same” sounds like a rehashing of the more subdued songs on Cape Dory. But the song slowly builds into a punchier, sassier version of the band, aided by power chords and snappy drums that were nearly nonexistent before. The wheeling, spastic sound of the electric Wurlitzer organ has also become an integral part of the band, with clunky lines leading tracks such as “Traveling” and “High Road.”

The biggest shift with Young & Old is its straightforward demeanor. Where the songs on Cape Dory ebbed and flowed much like the waves that inspired them, this album seems to have a clear focus and avoids drifting. Even “Dreaming,” a title that evokes a shimmery, loose soundtrack, largely pops along in a straight line, barring its organ-led wanderings on the bridge. This new focus suits the band, as there is not a weak song on Young & Old, but the album lacks that standout hit that Cape Dory had in “Marathon.”

Young & Old is not intended as a betrayal to the lovesick fans of the first album. Although the beach theme of 2010 has passed (for now), Tennis managed to keep the elements that endeared them so readily to audiences, but the pair altered their sand-and-sun elations enough to remain relevant. While the honeymoon period may be over for Tennis, its necessary maturation will give them more room to grow outside of the shore.

Tennis – Young & Old tracklist:

1. “It All Feels the Same”
2. “Origins”
3. “My Better Self”
4. “Traveling”
5. “Petition”
6. “Robin”
7. “High Road”
8. “Dreaming”
9. “Take Me to Heaven”
10. “Never to Part”

With his last release, Black City, the avid futurist Matthew Dear offered a vivid glimpse into a seductive world of night and dying dreams, pushing his sounds into new territory creatively. If there are concerns over whether that was just a phase– let them be put down. Conceptually, he’s on the same plane with his latest EP, Headcage but it’s not the same kind of immersion, nor the same vibe. The title track could serve as manifesto, “Throw your rocks in the air/ Let’s go have fun tonight,” the dated, oscillating snythesizers building into a rattling give-and-tug, that never quite breaks into all out danciness. Headcage is Dear plunging back into his brand of experimental pop, free of context.

Maybe it’s needless to say, but the production is stainless. Dear’s collaboration with the Drums’ Jonny Pierce, “In the Middle” makes for a surprisingly dynamic duet. They must have mutual admiration, at least since Dear’s hypnosis of “The Moon and Me” two years ago. You have Pierce’s brisk and airy bellow cutting a path over a winding reverie, filled under by Dear’s grovelly baritone. Falsetto “Street Song,” is a merry-go-round–with flying cars. The bumpy, whiny chorale “Around a Fountain,” concludes the EP with a “let go” sort of benediction.

While its foundation is solid, Headcage doesn’t quite enrapture the way we know its creator to be capable of. Time will tell if the EP is a prototype, testing the waters for his forthcoming full-length Beams or a tangent, meant to be gotten out.  In any case, if this is the pop of the future, Matthew Dear still seems pretty damn appealing.

Matthew Dear – Headcage tracklist:

1. “Headcage”
2. “In the Middle (I Met You There)”
3. “Street Song”
4. “Around a Fountain”

With Charlift’s third album release, their musical confidence has been put to good use without being over-the-top. Something is charging and sexy. It’s reminiscent of 80s pop-rock in its beats and use of synthesizers. The female vocals are as if Heart were placed in a 2012 synth-rock context and ditched their “girl power” aesthetic. Something is good for a solid jam at night.

“Sidewalk Safari” is a misleading spin into the first lines of the album. The sound is very experimental and charging, offering an entertaining peak of music qualities within the first few minutes of Something. It’s fun and it has a great jive to it with its retro psychedelic energy. The only problem is that it doesn’t sound like the band we hear at the end of the album.