Pop 'stache

Balkans are a surf-rock/punk hybrid band. They use quick and repetitive down-stroked guitar and basslines like the Drums, but they feel more alive. This is because Balkans are bursting with energy, but it’s a controlled and harnessed energy that never gets so wild that the band sounds sloppy.

You’d imagine Balkans breaking a string or two on stage, but never smashing their guitars or kicking a hole in the amps or the bass drum because they’ve got a pop-rock feel to them that keeps them under wraps. They don’t sound like they are using the surf-sound as a gimmick. Their self-titled album also has its very fine tuned moments where the lead guitar speeds or slows down the tempo of the entire song, or plucks the catchiest little riffs that will have you rocking out.

Balkans take the garage-band aesthetic and bring as much life as they can breathe into a song. Even on the softer ones such as “Troubled and Done,” where both guitars and bass are EQ’ed and working in sync with each other, chugging along at a constant pace that doesn’t change throughout most of the song. This, contrasted against the long vocal lines being drawn out, makes for an interesting song.

This album isn’t without a few tracks that don’t stand out, but the ones that do are bursting out of the pop-rock song formula that they have used on all the songs on this album.

“Dressed in Black” has many transitions and bridges that make you forget that you are indeed listening to verse/chorus/verse. The band explodes their tempo at the last 10 seconds of the song and takes everything into double time. It’s this energy throughout the album that you can feel dripping through the speakers.

This come through especially on songs such as “Black Swan” where Balkans stop the song’s fast tempo dead in its tracks and turn it into a marching garage-rock anthem. However, other songs aren’t as strong and simply serve as tracks to keep the momentum and flow of the album.

The impact of this album as a debut is like a small rock being thrown into a pond: it wasn’t a pebble, and it definitely wasn’t a boulder, but they got some waves and ripples coming back to them. Now, it’s just a matter of how they follow up.

Balkans – Balkans tracklist:

1. “Edita V”
2. “I Can’t Compete”
3. “Zebra Print”
4. “Dressed In Black”
5. “Black Swan”
6. ‘Troubled and Done”
7. “Flowers Everywhere”
8. “Let You Have It”
9. “Georganne”
10. “Violent Girls”

Early on in Girl in a Coma’s new Exits and All the Rest, it’s easy to tell there isn’t much variation of style throughout the length of the compilation. The band sticks to simple tunes, predictable progressions and decent lyrics.

“Adjust” starts with a low and hollow riff with an audibly heavy bassline. “Adjust” sounds mean-hearted and rough, which is quite obviously what the band was hoping to achieve for its energy. This lasts throughout the entire album.

The next song in the set beings about a much more upbeat highlight with a feel-good “Howlin’ For You” drum beat. Here in “One Eyed Fool” as speed and motivation picks up, it seems as though there’s hope for improvement. Girl in a Coma’s unsteady beginning already leads to doubt for anything substantial from the start.

“Smart” continues with a sound reminiscent of Metric’s strong and harsh feminine vocal tone. It could even be traced back to Joan Jett’s voice as inspiration. Who knows whether that is a stretch, though. The music ends up being much like a toned-down Feist.

There is some sort of significance in the juxtaposition of nicely written lyrics and the heavy, difficult energy of the sound. Girl in a Coma writes so freely but performs so harshly. It’s neat to hear the two be forced together to ultimately create its own sound. It does well for itself here and there, which is honorably innovative.

Vocalist Nina Diaz’ old-fashioned vibrato works with well with the smoky edge to her tone. She riffs in an individualistic way, carrying the end of certain words without pause onto the next verse. She does this often, and it’s especially present in less cloudy mixes.

“So” breaks down and adds a bit of vocal effects as harmonies are brought in and the emotions are softened for a bit. This break only happens once before the final two songs. Expect to hear everything in between sound spiteful and harsh. “Cemetery Baby” varies only slightly because of its mood, shifting from spiteful to soft and back again in the most anger-driven record in the set.

It’s never fair to spoil the ending, but we’ll tell you: the guitar effects become increasingly more distorted. If you’re shocked and alarmed, then sadly, you might be alone.

If you make it all the way to “Mother’s Lullaby,” first of all, congratulations. Second of all, allow yourself to alleviate some of the bitterness you might feel toward Exits and All the Rest and be still in the shallow strength of its final song.

Exits and All the Rest suffers in the way that it doesn’t provide the entertainment of an utter failure but simply leaves listeners with a less-than-mediocre muddling compilation of sorts. It follows the trends of many modern indie-rock bands but doesn’t go beyond the lines of its musical counterparts. Girl in a Coma stays within the boundaries of its genre.

This predictable noise not exciting, inspiring nor original. By the end, you might notice could’ve filled the second half of the album yourself.

Girl in a Coma – Exits and All the Rest tracklist:

1. “Adjust”
2. “One Eyed Fool”
3. “Smart”
4. “She Had a Plan”
5. “So”
6. “Cemetery Baby”
7. “Knocking at Your Door”
8. “Hope”
9. “Control”
10. “Sly”
11. “Mother’s Lullaby”

With all the Lil Wayne and Gucci Mane clones floating around the world of rap, it is sometimes easy to forget the rawest elements of hip-hop. The things that existed on the streets of New York City in the early 1980s before everyone had Macs with Garage Band and every kid could grab a rhyming dictionary and talk about cars they couldn’t afford or girls they couldn’t get. It’s hard to remember that it started with a set of turntables and a microphone: the MC and the DJ. Ugly Duckling hasn’t strayed from that formula during the years, and their new record, Moving At Breakneck Speed, is no exception.

On this, their seventh full-length release, Ugly Duckling keep it simple with break beats and rhymes that coincide. The California natives are vets, largely considered one of the most influential underground acts on the past decade or so. With a teamwork attack on each song, they stay true to the form of their West Coast brethren Jurassic 5 and borrow a little from legendary hip-hop groups such as Dilated Peoples, Tribe and, of course, the Beastie Boys. Breakneck Speed isn’t anything new, but for classic hip-hop heads, it’s a nice reminder that this overblown genre can be simplified and taken back to its basics.

The opening track, “Keep Movin’” sets the tone for the rest of the album with heavy horns and scratches from DJ Young Einstein as Dizzy Dustin and Andy Cat hand the mic back and forth. This rhyme swap continues on “Momentum” as it does exactly that, building on what the opening track started as the beat pushes a little more each bar.

They guys slow it up a little bit on “$100 Weekend” and call out for the audience to just relax and enjoy the day as they ride the beat with a laid back flow. “Elevation” is a classic call-and-response cut and leads into the disco-feeling “I Wonder Where She Is Now” that conjures up memories of classic LL where they pine for long lost chances at love.

It the greatest contrast of back to back tracks, “One Horse Town” and “Anything Can Happen (in the Big City)” find the crew recalling stories with two completely different settings. The former with a slowed down, harmonica-filled backdrop and the later, a tale of stepping out of Grand Central Station and trying to act like they belong in the big city.

The album finishes up with shout-outs to old-school legends such as the groups mentioned above and their hometown of Long Beach; working out their linguistics over “breakneck speeds”; and the requisite DJ tracks where they let Einstein do his thing. They round all this out with “Endless Summer,” a mellow, perfectly Cali track where they rhyme from a metaphorical paradise and wish you were there.

It’s nothing new but it’s definitely not an unwelcome addition to today’s hip-hop scene. The veterans don’t change up their formula and turn out a great record. If only people still rocked high-top fades, gold chains and boom boxes on shoulders.

Ugly Duckling – Moving at Breakneck Speed tracklist:

1. “Keep Movin’”
2. “Momentum”
3. “$100 Weekend”
4. “Elevation”
5. “I Wonder Where She Is Now”
6. “One Horse Town”
7. “Anything Can Happen”
8. “How It Used to Be”
9. “Einstein Got a Monkey”
10. “Run for the Light”
11. “Sprint”
12. “The Homecoming”
13. “The Breakneck Theme”
14. “Endless Summer”

On every basketball court in America, you’ll find one or two dudes with the ego the size of the gym itself. Yeah, maybe they can play, but again, they’re playing in a pick-up game. In their heads, they should have made it and have a weird chip on their shoulders because, although they might have talent, they think they have a talent that belongs in the NBA. They are angry people who are incredibly difficult to find reason within.

For years, Jedi Mind Tricks have rapped about their talent and disdain for anyone who’s garnered more commercial success or anyone who thinks they don’t have the same level of talent as the big dogs. Their egotism turns into the worst kind of irrational lyricism. One minute, they’re rapping about conspiracies in the government and the next, they’re metaphorically classifying themselves as a group of rapists. Even with the exit of longtime producer Stoupe the Enemy of Mankind (charming), Violence Begets Violence doesn’t at all stray even slightly away from that formula.

Vinnie Paz and Jus Allah who make up the MCing components of Jedi Mind Tricks list groups such as Wu-Tang, Mobb Deep and Public Enemy as some of their influences. The griminess of the music itself isn’t a vast departure from the legendary groups listed—where JMT differ is the content. When trying to get a point across, they use shock value bordering on horrorcore. While this approach can be effective, when trying to touch on some of the subjects they try to broach, credibility is somewhat lost when the opening of the album is a glorification of serial killer Richard Ramirez.

They come off like adult, yet still immature, versions of Tyler, the Creator and the rest of Odd Future but with zero of the likeability and redeeming qualities—yes, for all the fowl-mouthed, psychopathic content, Tyler comes off as intelligent and sincere human being and exceptional creative at times. Songs such as “Imperial Tyranny,” an angry attack on perceived irrational leadership, and “Weapons of Unholy Wrath,” a bragadocious attempt of lyrical intoxication and rejection of authority,  fall well short of their intended targets because the execution comes nowhere near the validation they seem to have already attained in their heads.

They don’t completely lack talent. This will probably end up being played a bajillion times by die-hard Jedi Mind Tricks fans. It’s what they do. If 50 Cent has a fan base, anyone can find people they can manage to please. So, staying on the path they’ve made for themselves during the past 15 years isn’t going to hurt them in any way. They’re just going to be hard-pressed to get many converts on the JMT bandwagon.

Jedi Mind Tricks – Violence Begets Violence

1. “Intro”
2. “Burning the Mirror”
3. “When Crowds Descend Upon You” (featuring Demoz)
4. “Fuck Ya Life” (featuring Blacastan)
5. “Imperial Tyranny” (featuring King Magnetic)
6. “Design in Malice” (featuring Young Zee and Pacewon)
7. “Weapon of Unholy Wrath”
8. “Target Practice”
9. “Carnival of Souls”
10. “Willing a Destruction Onto Humanity”
11. “Chalice” (featuring Chip Fu)
12. “Bloodborn Enemy”
13. “The Sacrilege of Fatal Arms”
14. “Street Lights”

Like fellow New Yorker, Lady something-or-other, Class Actress earned her salvation when she put down the guitar, upped the sexual factor in performance, and rode a wave of danceable electro. She then distinguished herself from contemporaries by straddling the border of chillwave and pop. Rapprocher is the arrival of a hopeful young star still discovering her voice and still vested too much in two separate worlds to rock one.

Class Actress began in fact as an L.A. Drama School dropout. Her name is Elizabeth Harper, and she is a melancholic. The big, icy electro-pop she exudes is a decided throwback to the 1980s—but a welcome one. Unlike many of her fellow artists that have adopted decades-old instrumentation, Harper doesn’t call attention to it.

No, Rapprocher is analog at its best—the imperfect tones, the organic craftsmanship (a la synth-guru Scott Rosenthal) and, of course, the datedness. It all adds a degree of authenticity and personality to an already graceful and curious voice. It sounds as if she’s singing what she wants—it just happens to be over 30-year-old disco. While a lot of the album appears in soft focus, it’s rarely the singing.

There’s a sharp clarity to Harper’s luxurious lilt, even in the dirtiest of moments.

“Hangin’ On” has the oscillating synth line of Neon Indian’s “Psychic Chasms.” Harper languishes in the seductive wordplay, gyrating over a four-on-the-floor groove. Lines such as, “God forbid an altercation/Making you regret/That nothing’s ever going to be the same,” (“All the Saints”) showcase her unique brand of submissive, confessional pop. The lyricism can be winding, if not a little bulky—but for the most part comes round. When it doesn’t though, it comes off cringingly contrived.

It’s hard to put the cutesiness of Rapprocher aside. Whether it’s blush-inducing lines such as, “You make me late for church,” (“Weekend”) the ardent coyness she embodies in show, or the corniness of her alias. Some would say kitsch—but like Madonna memorabilia in a Brooklyn studio, it’s willful. Harper has an aloof, playful pride that shines through this collection, manifested mostly in lovesickness.

What’s missing from this portrait is the heroine. When Rapprocher flies, it soars; its peaks put better albums of the like to shame, but for every high it wallows too often in unphenomenality. Harper is the hopeless romantic; she has the temptress down-pat. What she needs is the presence, both on record and in show. She needs to own it, then maybe the disparate cries of “legend” might gain some weight.

Class Actress – Rapprocher tracklist:

1. “Keep You”
2. “Love Me Like You Used To”
3. “Weekend”
4. “Prove Me Wrong”
5. “Need to Know”
6. “Limosine”
7. “All the Saints”
8. “Bienvenue”
9. “Missed”
10. “Hangin’ On”
11. “Let Me In”

The term “dub” may evoke an array of responses or images for any given listener. Often, a deliberately repressed energy is key in describing the ambience of dubstep, with its heavy, straight and pleasantly repetitive beats. The image of a dark room filled with 20-to-30-somethings, all nodding their heads in silent awe at a lone artist illuminated in deep-blue lighting on stage, may come to mind. “Dub” on its own boils down to a genre in which artists integrate existing music or sounds and reshape them into something new. Manipulated electronica, let’s say, head-nodding never optional.

One thing that most likely does not come to mind right away when speaking of the “dub” genre, however, is heavy metal music, as is the case with Dub Trio.

The Brooklyn band’s latest release, simply titled IV, utilizes “dub” in the true sense of the word: recording members’ instruments (DP Holmes’ guitar and keys, Stu Brooks’ bass and keys and Joe Tomino’s drums), often on stage, and reworking them via loop and delay effects. That’s how the band’s name makes sense, and it’s also what makes the tracks “Ends Justify the Means,” “1:1.:618” and the beginning of “En Passant” the most cohesive with that name and, obviously, the concept of the “dub” genre.

IV, however, really does not belong in the dub genre. If anything, it belongs solidly and squarely on the heavy-metal bill. Excluding those few tracks previously mentioned, almost the entirety of the album is straight-forward hard rock, complete with all of the slick distortions (see “Swarm,” “Words” and “Patient Zero” for the most familiar heavy sounds and song structures), mid-tune tempo changes, and adrenaline-inducing cacophony of metal. And it is a decent metal album at that. But it makes those trance-inducing, artist-illuminated-in-deep-blue-light moments all the more out of place. It’s a stark enough contrast that it brings to mind Beirut’s first release, March of the Zapotec & Realpeople – Holland, which was literally two EPs released back-to-back, thus the inconsistency. Why the inconsistency here?

If the band is going to be called Dub Trio, perhaps their namesake makes the most sense when they’re playing right in front of a crowd, where fans can witness the dubbing in action. Right now it comes off almost as a mistake when those few songs start off on a decidedly electronic note and do a heavy-metal 180.

To be clear, those mistakes come off as the album’s happiest mistakes. The metal aspect of the album is simply not where its innovation lies, but the more experimental moments—such as the Books-like “1:1.:618,” made up of a hodge-podge of found sounds and sparse major thirds subtly layered over mostly minor percussive tones—are the most interesting. Since these moments are so sparse and subtle, however, they’re just not very easy to enjoy. The opportunity for enjoyment is all too slim.

Misunderstandings aside, IV has some significant innovation to offer. If the balance between manipulated electronica and metal can be stricken somehow, Dub Trio will have found its footing, and we will relish in the (hopefully) cohesive sound. Heavy metal and dub does seem like a particularly difficult combo, though. If anyone will discover that balance, it will be Dub Trio—for the win.

Dub Trio – IV tracklist:

1. “En Passant”
2. “Noise”
3. “Swam”
4. “Control Issues Controlling Your Mind”
5. “Ends Justify the Means”
6. “Words”
7. “Patient Zero”
8. “1:1.:618”
9. “Thousand Mile Stare”

Every child dreams of running off to camp every summer to spend days playing games, eating s’mores and meeting a fellow teeny bopper to call a summer fling—or at least that’s what happened on Disney’s “Bug Juice.”

The days of campfires and wake-boarding are a delightful memory, but on Summer Camp’s first LP, Welcome to Condale, the duo reminisces in a nontraditional fashion.

London’s Summer Camp has captured the hazy essence of those far-away summer nights with their dreamy vocals and foggy melodies. Welcome to Condale is bright on the outside but hauntingly dark on the inside. With lyrics spanning from literally loving someone to death to life in a small town, Summer Camp isn’t afraid to tell it how it is.

Starting as a secretive project, Jeremy Warmsley and Elizibeth Sankey were new to Summer Camp but not the music scene. Warmsley has been active in the British music arena since 2005 with a slew of albums, singles and EPs released solely and collaboratively, and he has toured with the likes of Regina Spektor and The Shins.

Sankey is new to this side of music, although it’s hard to tell with her impressive pipes. As a music writer for Loudon’s Platform online magazine, Sankey initially craved anonymity because of her contacts in the industry, as well as Warmsley’s recognition. It obviously didn’t matter because this duo received attention before their names were revealed.

Initially released in 2009, Welcome to Condale features the catchy “Ghost Train,” also from their Young EP.  This song captures true youthful naivety. The keyboard is a daydream of high-pitched chords and delightfully airy melodies. The vocals float in a dainty toe-tapping circle.

However, not every song on this album is pretty. “I Want You” is a creepy love story that is distorted and sexy. Resembling a 1990s Madonna song, Sankey is devilish and tantalizing.

“And if I could I’d squeeze your hand so tight, every knuckle would crack. I’d wrap my arms around you and snap every bone in your back. … If I could I’d kiss your lips so hard, your entire face would bruise. Write your name in blood on every wall, it would make the evening news. I’d chain our feet together so that you could never leave. I’d make you love me so much you’d have to ask permission to breathe.”

Warmsley’s lo-fi keys and atmospheric melodies add an eerie innocence to Sankey’s dreamy vocals. The poppy, retro-infused style overflows into their album artwork with cloudy Polaroid-like photos to create a full package theme.

Welcome to Condale takes influences from 1960s surfer rock to 1980s glitter pop. It’s a formula that’s undeniably captivating. The clever storytelling and sing-along lyrics make this album easily enjoyable. Ranging from bubble-gum beats to a psychotic love obsession, Summer Camp has spanned the eras defying pop genres to blend into their own concoction. Just try to resist humming these tunes for days.

Summer Camp – Welcome to Condale tracklist:

1. “Better off Without You”
2. “Brian Krakow”
3. “I Want You”
4. “Losing My Mind”
5. “Summer Camp”
6. “Nobody Knows You”
7. “Down”
8. “Welcome to Condale”
9. “Done Forever”
10. “Last American Virgin”
11. “Ghost Train”
12. “1988”

Drake might be hip-hop’s First World Problems poster boy, but tell Arcade Fire that the kids in the suburbs don’t have problems, too. What Drake does is almost exclusively a Drake thing. His fusion of R&B, pop and hip-hop in which he moves back and forth from singing and rapping is his own style. It works because it has big hooks, big beats and real emotion. It strikes a balance between the “I’m rich, bitch” narcissism and love and longing content that permeates modern pop both in sound and lyrics. But, like Kanye West, Drake uses his fame as sort of a cover for his emotional instability and insecurities, and his overtly expressive tunes are genuine and relatable. Drake deals with the divorce of his parents, the insufficiency of sex or money, and the fear of being alone, among other things, openly and honestly. If anything, this gives him a whole different appeal to an entire demographic.

Since Drake is, in some regards, the Young Money response to West’s heart-on-sleeve style of hip-hop, it’s no surprise that Take Care bears a lot of similarities to West’s hugely successful My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. From the promotional work akin to G.O.O.D. Fridays, the collaboration-heavy song load, the extended interludes, the Gil Scott-Heron sampling, and an appearance by his ex-girlfriend, the album seems to make an attempt at dissecting the formula that made Yeezy’s release so successful from both a marketing and a content standpoint. There’s more: Where West had Bon Iver, Drake has The Weeknd; where West got Elton John, Drake got Stevie Wonder. Fortunately, Drake still has his own thing going on, and these surface comparisons are just that.

The album’s cover shows Drake with a lot of useless gold objects and paintings, sitting alone. And this is the dichotomy that he deals with on Take Care. There is a sense of alienation here—one that Drake tries to overcome with his money—but as time goes on, he realizes that it just won’t do. This is a different sentiment than the one on Thank Me Later, where Drake is more hopeful about where things are going. It’s kind of a remarkable shift in less than two years.

And he really packed the disc to capacity. The crazy thing is that it doesn’t feel like any of these songs don’t belong. In fact, some key tracks such as “Dreams Money Can Buy” are even missing. But there’s a reason why that single didn’t make the cut over others. It doesn’t fit the mood lyrically, while “Marvin’s Room” is almost the thesis of Take Care. Drake has all the money and women he can imagine (which on Thank Me Later, he thought would fulfill him), but he is ultimately depressed. When before in the history of hip-hop has a rapper of his status expressed regret for having sex four times in a week? Drake so desperately wants to have a real connection with someone that he will (drunkenly) call a former fling, confess his bad deeds, and realize he wants to change while convincing her to cheat on her boyfriend with him. It’s sort of nihilistic.

As far as new tracks go, “Crew Love” has a throbbing beat, giving off, appropriately, the feeling of being in a club. The Weeknd is perfect for Drake because his music is an embodiment of the escapism that can occur from the feelings articulated throughout the disc.

“Lord Knows,” with a monster of a beat provided by Just Blaze, provides a midway energy boost. The title track sees Drake and Rihanna paint the picture of an odd beginning to a relationship that appears at once promising and troubling. Wonder busts out a beautiful harmonica solo at the end of “Doing It Wrong.” But picking apart and explaining all of the tracks on this massive album would be tiresome and unnecessary.

It’s all really solid material, and the listener will get out of it whatever they are willing to put in.

Take Care might not be as immediate as his previous works, but it is a stronger, more powerful release. It’s sprawling and ambitious, but the craftsmanship is remarkable. The beats are rich and thick, and the collaborations are fitting. Drake’s ability to emote and be real holds all the weight it needs to, advancing his already-unique sound while maintaining all of the qualities fans have come to expect from him. The style and execution here will undoubtedly be imitated by many to follow. Drake notes at the end of his sophomore album that his “junior and senior will only get meaner,” but it’s OK—you can thank him now.

Drake – Take Care tracklist:

1. “Over My Dead Body”
2. “Shot for Me”
3. “Headlines”
4. “Crew Love” (featuring The Weeknd)
5. “Take Care” (featuring Rihanna)
6. “Marvins Room/Buried Alive” (featuring Kendrick Lamar)
7. “Under Ground Kings”
8. “We’ll Be Fine” (featuring Bird Man)
9. “Make Me Proud” (featuring Nicki Minaj)
10. “Lord Knows” (featuring Rick Ross)
11. “Cameras/Good Ones Go”
12. “Doing It Wrong” (featuring Stevie Wonder)
13. “The Real Her” (featuring Lil Wayne and André 3000)
14. “Look What You’ve Done”
15. “HYFR (Hell Ya Fucking Right)” (featuring Lil Wayne)
16. “Practice”
17. “The Ride”

The nearly two year period between Welsh post-twee indie-rockers Los Campesinos’ third record, the magnificent Romance Is Boring, and their newest record, Hello Sadness, is the longest period between LC! LPs in the band’s existence. In that time lead singer Gareth has further deepened his vocal register, another Campesino has fallen victim to the cruel mistress that is real life (this time violin player Harriet) and the “tweexcore underground” LC were birthed from has swiftly blown up. The world is different now, but not so different as to affect major change in the Campesino formula. Hello Sadness is at once a comment on aging and a reaction to the dearth of messy punk that is flooding the blogosphere: a quieter, zipper up version of the band, for better and worse.

But first, the surprise: is that confidence Gareth is spewing on the record’s boisterous second track, “Songs About Your Girlfriend?” The verses are all cocky bluster, the pudgy frontman practically waving his genitals – “I’ve got my hot hands over her soft spots soon, you will see.” – at a fellow buck. But the puffy chest doesn’t last long, as the chorus blankly states the double-blind in play: “I’ve never made her smile like that, although I always made her purr like a cat.”  Thus is Sadness’ contradiction: Gareth is still sad, and the band follows his wallow. But more often than not, that sadness isn’t physical; (mostly) gone is carnal Gareth, the man who complained about listening to too much Explosions in the Sky instead of doing the nasty.

In his place is a twentysomething unsure of his point, of the directions he chose to take at various forks in the road. This Gareth makes heavy-handed metaphors about black birds as his songwriting guilt, or comments that he and his beloved are only perfect in the light.  It’s not the typical brutal specificity that we’ve come to expect from a brilliant (yep) lyricist such as Gareth, but his maturity had to happen at a certain point, even if he’s still ear-wormingly co-dependent (the opening track and it’s “die with me” handclaps). Hello Sadness is, then, a Gareth mid-point, a mark between high and low tide of youthful obsessiveness giving way to defeated adult complexity. He’s not all the way there yet, and some of the duller moments of Sadness are strong evidence (“Life Is a Long Time,” which… duh) but that such a pigeonhole-able narrative can evolve is a heartening fact indeed. Plus, he can still turn a wicked phrase – “In the frost I drew a dick for every girl who wouldn’t fuck me/ woke up the next morning to find the frost had bit me,” from the excellent “Baby I Got the Death Rattle.”

It’s obviously not all Gareth, though. The loss of Campesinos staple violin is immediately quantifiable, but there’s enough meat on these bones elsewhere. The problem may lay in the same ballpark as Gareth’s “growth;” these Campesinos were given two years to think about how these songs sound, beyond just the feelings they elicit. And while they still elicit those big emotional moments (album standout “Death Rattle” is insanely complex, but simple in its carnal sweetness), about half of Hello Sadness feels overcooked. Good ideas are tapered down to incompleteness – “Hate for the Island” is so over-edited that it could actually be read as a narrative in the “Lost” universe – and every tempo seems to be driven down to a little bit less than cacophony, which is where Los Campesinos are at their best. They’re still magnificent melodists, and some of the guitar and synth lines caterwauling around the back and foreground of Hello Sadness’ best moments are a reassurance that this isn’t a step backward for the poppers.

But at the same time Hello Sadness can’t be called a step forward either. It feels, instead, like a half-step, an unsure twitch forward into the realm of post-youth indie-pop songwriting while still keep a foot firmly planted in wasted teenagerdom (there is, of course, a reference to vomiting). After the brilliance of Romance is Boring, it seemed like Los Campesinos were ready to move from underdog champions to full indie heroes. Turns out Gareth and company aren’t there yet, but if they commit, Hello Sadness is certainly the precursor to a brilliant future.

Los Campesinos! – Hello Sadness tracklist:

1. “By Your Hand”
2. “Songs About Your Girlfriend”
3. “Hello Sadness”
4. “Life Is a Long Time”
5. “Every Defeat a Divorce (Three Lions)”
6. “Hate for the Island”
7. “The Black Bird, The Dark Slope”
8. “To Tundra”
9. “Baby I Got the Death Rattle”
10. “Light Leaves, Dark Sees Pt. 2”

Bursting onto the scene less than two years ago with their debut album Eyelid Movies, Phantogram has established a highly-reputable form of airy electronic rock. On their second studio release, guitarist Josh Carter and keyboardist Sarah Barthel experiment in defining texture in their already multifaceted sound.

This New York duo has toured with the likes of Beach House, Yeasayer and Minus the Bear, and played major festivals like Coachella, Lollapalooza and SXSW—a pretty impressive resume for an act with only one full-length album. The self-proclaimed “street beat” of songs like “Mouthful of Diamonds” and “Running from the Cops” on Eyelid Movies has translated well onto their newest mini-album, Nightlife, on Barsuk Records.

In a world where genres are undefined, Barthel and Carter further their need for non-categorization by mixing fundamentals of shoegaze, pop, indie-rock, jazz, electronica and hip-hop.

The airy, dream-like tendencies splattered throughout Nightlife and mixture of organic and tech beats are tantalizing. Barthel howls while Carter follows closely along with an underlying guitar lick creating a dynamic atmosphere.

Previously pulling inspiration from ‘90s hip-hop, first single “Don’t Move” demonstrates a much more modern flavor accompanied by their street-beat style. The continuous looping of sampled beats, poppy horn and percussion texture is highly infectious, while Barthel’s vocals float through the skipping synth and pulsing bass. The chorus ends with “keep your body still,” an impossible demand with such danceable riffs.

The dark melodies of its predecessor have been granted light and diverse functionality this time around. The catchy, yet matured beats of Nightlife are layered thick with even more raw sounds from Carter and synthetic collages from Barthel. This album is a progression in the right direction for the small-town duo from Saratoga Springs, NY.

To prove it, they pack a powerful punch with engulfing sounds and a multitude of textures. It’s hard to believe only two people can create such diverse layers, but Phantogram’s 3-dimensional style embraces the format ofsongs like “Mouthful of Diamonds” while drifting away from not-so-awesome structures like “You are the Ocean” off Eyelid Movies.

Beginning with an acoustic intro, title track “Nightlife” is a dreamy lullaby. The instrumentals are less abrasive and Barthel’s vocals are more stunning than ever. An ode to a 1980s love ballad, this song stands out from the rest of the up-tempo tracks. It’s bright and whimsical, and gracefully exits on a repeated loop of the line: “Love is the only thing I ever needed.”

Where Phantogram fell short last time, they made up for it this time. Even though it’s a mini-album, Nightlife has outdone Eyelid Movies with diverse textures, countless layers and a more mature sound. If these New Yorkers keep going in the right direction, we have a lot to look forward to in their next release.

Phantogram – Nightlife tracklist:

1. “16 Years”
2. “Don’t Move”
3. “Turning into Stone”
4. “Make a Fist”
5. “Nightlife”
6. “A Dark Tunnel”

On the digitally released compilation Everybody Get Close, DFA labelmate The Juan MacLean once again proves the brand’s remarkable vitality— even in our post-LCD Soundsystem era. James Murphy may have come and gone, but The Juan MacLean (his real name is John MacLean) is here to ease our anxiousness.

Since debuting with Less Than Human some five years ago, MacLean has quietly released two solo efforts (2009’s The Future Will Come and 2010’s DJ-Kicks) in addition to remixing artists such as Chairlift, Matthew Dear, and the Tough Alliance. MacLean, like his DFA peers, expertly blends live instrumentation and calculated electro-magnetism. It’s infectious, and enough to make you want to bring out your dancing shoes. Well, your disco-house shoes.

How does the (digital) compilation stack up? Despite its jumbled assortment of singles and remixes, Everybody Get Close is confident and dancefloor ready; enticing with just-enough studio polish to stand on its own.

Not only do MacLean and his army of swelling synths and slick bass pick up right where James Murphy left off, they also pick up Mr. Murphy’s former players: former LCD Soundsystem vocalist Nancy Whang appears on two tracks. She fits like a glove inside the Latin piano of “Find A Way” and turns otherwise abstract “Feels So Good” into an exhilarating dance routine.

The album’s two remixes belongs to Cut Copy and Holmes Prince, who reinterpret previous MacLean tracks into club-ready bumpers. As all remixes go, these efforts are hit and miss. The Cut Copy track “Happy House” is very, well, Cut Copy, while the Holmes Price-crafted “Human Disaster” stems a bit deeper into musical abyss, recalling Joy Division at their bleakest (and least enticing).

Overall, Everybody Get Close cements The Juan MacLean’s sound, providing an accessible entry-point for newcomers. Warm, down-to-earth and oddly rejuvenating, this small collection of material makes a solid case for one of DFA’s most criminally overlooked artists.

The Juan Maclean – Everybody Get Close tracklist:

1. “Find A Way”
2. “Let’s Talk About Me”
3. “Human Disaster” (Holmes Price Ver.)
4. “When I Am With You”
5. “Feel So Good”
6. “Happy House” (Cut Copy Remix)
7. “X2”
8. “The Robot”
9. “Human Disaster” (Jee Day Remix)
10. “Everybody Get Close”

Throughout his vast career, Will Oldham has recorded under the names Palace Brothers, Palace Songs and Palace Music. He has been in multiple films, including Jackass 3D, released an extensive amount of LPs and EPs, and collaborated with dozens of musicians. This down-home, bearded singer-songwriter can gain no comparisons because he has continued to be a standout artist in true Americana folk.

Oldham’s newest melancholy release, Wolfroy Goes to Town, is the 11^th album under his current and most frequented moniker Bonnie “Prince” Billy. Rooting traditional country and infusing modern alternative folk, Oldham sings a soft whisper accompanied mostly by a soothing string melody.

Recorded in Oldham’s home state of Kentucky, this album is pure and raw. Featuring a huge list of collaborators such as Ben Boye, Van Campbell, Emmitt Kelly, Shahzad Ismaily, Danny Keily and Angel Olsen, Wolfroy Goes to Town is intimate and warm.

This album is a perfect seasonal treat. From the whimsical vocals to the carefully scatted acoustic guitar, Wolfroy Goes to Town can easily be translated into a soundtrack to a quaint bonfire. It’s the calming vocals and the minimal instrumentation, though, that makes this album a little sleepy.

His simplicity is soothing, like a cool breeze through rattling leaves—it could even be therapeutic. In songs such as “New Tibet” and “We Are Unhappy” the tempo is barely moving, a true country sentiment. For Bonnie “Prince” Billy, there is no need for synthesizers, computers or even percussion for the most part.

Opening track, “No Match” is an Elvis Presley-like ballad. It’s a beautiful rendition of true Americana. With howling vocals and steady humming guitar, Oldham transports his listeners to an old Western saloon. It’s his simple storytelling and slow singing that translates this 21^st century troubadour into a modern-day classic.

In the most upbeat track, “Quail and Dumplings,” a crying Olsen adds an abrasive texture. Her gritty, deep howl is enchanting. Followed by a heavy bassline, this song resembles a 1950s rockabilly tune.

“Night Noises” is a stunningly sparse, yet optimistic, final track. The harmonized vocals between Oldham, Kelly and Olsen make this song delicate and careful: “Weakness, we should celebrate. Not let others drag you under.”

Bonnie “Prince” Billy’s traditional folk is thoughtful and petite, and Wolfroy Goes to Town is another beautiful piece of his seemingly never-ending collection. Oldham has a distinct way of turning ’50s-inspired country into modern Americana without encompassing modern technologies. This album is reminiscent of simple times, and sometimes it’s comforting to hear that.

Bonnie “Prince” Billy – Wolfroy Goes to Town tracklist:

1. “No Match”
2. “New Whaling”
3. “Time to Be Clear”
4. “New Tibet”
5. “Black Captain”
6. “Cows”
7. “There Will Be Spring”
8. “Quail and Dumplings”
9. “We Are Unhappy”
10. “Night Noises”