Pop 'stache

On 2008’s Somewhere at the Bottom of the River Between Vega and Altair, La Dispute offered some fairly standard post-hardcore that felt more like the band paying homage to its influences than standing on its own two legs. Since then, the quintet has refined its sound and found ways to make vocalist Jordan Dreyer’s spoken-word vocal style gel with the rest of the band.

Dreyer doesn’t write lyrics, but instead tension-fueled short stories that he delivers with a shouted desperation. Developing characters and scenarios in mere seconds, Dreyer executes them in a manner that borders on cinematic. The stories bring the listener into the midst of each situation, allowing a close proximity to the situations that have been constructed.

Dreyer’s ability to execute these elaborate stories is one of the biggest reasons why Wildlife is more effective than any of La Dispute’s previous works.

This is not to say that Dreyer is the only reason why Wildlife is a more successful album. Guitarists Chad Sterenburg and Kevin Whittemore have integrated a nuanced style that allows for quiet moment to be moodier without meandering while writing pounding riffs that are executed with higher proficiency and purpose. On tracks such as “St. Paul Missionary Baptist Church Blues,” they create rhythms that complement Dreyer while subtly blending their unique parts into one another.

As Wildlife moves toward its second half, it keeps from stagnating thanks to drummer Brad Vander Lugt’s unique and inspired approach to each song. Rarely using similar patterns, he grooves with bassist Adam Vass, showing how necessary an adept rhythm section is to a post-hardcore band.

It is toward the albums end when Wildlife offers up its three strongest tracks: “King Park,” “Edward Benz, 27 Times” and “I See Everything.” This three-song section is the high point for the group’s career, both musically and lyrically. It’s fitting that these three tracks take up nearly a third of the album’s runtime, as it is simultaneously the most enjoyable section of the album and also the most unnerving. Each song deals with subject matter more weighty than the next—a drive-by shooting, a schizophrenic son attacking his father and a mother recounting her seven-year-old son’s battle with cancer. On these tracks, La Dispute proves that quality art isn’t always the easiest to digest. Each song would have been a suitable album closer because they leave listeners drained by the time each reaches their conclusion.

At nearly an hour in length, Wildlife is a behemoth of an album. La Dispute stepped up its game and is now challenging fans to take that step along with them. While the album fumbles a bit at its start, once it settles into its groove it never lets up. If the tracklist were pared down, it could have been a perfect album, but there is no shame in merely writing the most arduous record of the year.

La Dispute – Wildlife tracklist:

1. “A Departure”
2. “Harder Harmonies”
3. “St. Paul Missionary Baptist Church Blues”
4. “Edit Your Hometown”
5. “A Letter”
6. “Safer in the Forest/Love Songs for Poor Michigan”
7. “The Most Beautiful Bitter Fruit”
8. “A Poem”
9. “King Park”
10. “Edward Benz, 27 Times”
11. “I See Everything”
12. “A Broken Jar”
13. “All Our Bruised Bodies and the Whole Heart Shrinks”
14. “You and I in Unison”

There are two recurring perils for successful bands releasing second albums. One: the band, gouged on the size of its success, sets about composing stadium-sized anthems for its new minions—honed for massive stages and epic live sets—without once realizing that these songs are vapid. Two: the band for whatever reason (sick of success, not wanting to be cornered in, tired of critics’ conclusions) goes so far away from what made it appealing in the first place that it loses its magic touch. Audio, Video, Disco is a study in both of these pitfalls; it is also a pastiche of a genre long dead (that starts with a ‘P’ and ends in “ock”), and to top it all off, when you get through it, not half bad.

Like Cross, it might take some time to bloom in memory and when it does, it won’t be nearly as pleasing a pattern or elaborate a design. In truth, it’s not clear whether Xavier de Rosnay and Gaspard Augé have made it to be memorable. Justice does not pretend. The band doesn’t don otherworldly stage outfits to garner attention, shave half their heads (these are all theoretical examples) or resort to a seizure-inducing laser/light show to sell themselves. Justice doesn’t seek to seriously prove their musicianship (hence the stack of inane Marshalls on their stage), only have an Ed Banger’s ball. One gets the sense listening to Justice that it’s coming straight from the gut, the goofy, tongue-in-cheek side of the duo that shines through in person.

After famously hailing Audio, Video, Disco a “daylight album” to the night of Cross, de Rosnay went on to confess he’s a “terrible musician” and that the band’s forthcoming album would contain stadium rock. Well, unlike other slithery interviews with cocky and evasive musicians, this one turned out to have its basis in fact. From the opening guitar climbs of “Horsepower,” the first inclination might be to laugh—out loud. And yet as surely as you’re laughing, it bursts through with harsh, grinding electro strings—building in much the same way “Genesis” did.

Prowling on, “Civilization” bears its standard with the same instrumentation, a few glamorous piano hits and digitized guitars adding to the effect. Audio, Video, Disco is hurt/helped by being workout music—it is the soundtrack to an Adidas commercial, also perfect “brisk walk” tempo, where the things in your life seem to be literally synced up with the beat. That said, the album is cohesive. Nothing protrudes but the noxious testosterone of the sung pieces. Heavily-phased “Kashmir” drums guide the sunshine spiritual “On ‘n’ On,” whereas the groove of “New Lands” is so shamelessly Phil Rudd/Angus Young that it’s a small wonder royalty checks aren’t being wired Down Under. Vocals on both are contributed by Morgan Phalen of Diamond Nights, a band not unfamiliar with late-1970s rock. But consider the elements: Audio, Video, Disco didn’t emerge from nothing.

Metal has always been a primary color in Justice’s palette. From their remix of Death From Above 1979’s “Blood on Our Hands” to their Metallica-sampling live “Finale” to the guitar solo on “Planisphere” (a Dior Homme commission making its first official appearance as a bonus track on the album) the thrash sneaks out like a dirty hobby, and it’s not surprising to see it permeate Audio, Video, Disco. There’s the rollicking palm-muted, “Canon” and the double-time breakdown on “New Lands.” Justice also habitually employ baroque runs, and as such, the album is the perfect accompaniment to your next jousting tournament.

So if Justice isn’t what we thought—a thunderous, irreverent and Bad opposite to Daft Punk, what is Ed Banger?

What began as a bunch of 18th arrondissement kids with a penchant for leather jackets, cigarettes and Michael Jackson now face soul-searching times. With his album Total, Sebastian seems to be doing Justice more justice than Justice. Busy P is too busy hyping his boys to release anything of note, Mr. Oizo’s last clip was the soundtrack to Rubber (with Justice), Uffie likewise has struggled to hit the charts since her collaboration on Cross, and in a shocking tragedy to music and the world, Mehdi was killed in a rooftop collapse.

With Cross in 2007, Justice stole electro and in turn, dance music. These days, Skrillex and Deadmau5 titillate audiences. Modern House fans would sooner turn up at a Tiësto show than explore its origins. This is why it seems like Audio, Video, Disco, rather than jolt the world to attention like Cross, is a concession on de Rosnay and Augé’s part—a refusal to play the game. Or at least play the game by its own rules.

It reeks more of the duo doing what they want to do, exploring sounds they like, holistically. And yeah, they might be sounds with a firm footing in the past but who’s to say the objective was invention?

Be advised, fans. Justice “Pandora” is now likely to include Yes, Bachman-Turner Overdrive, Blue Öyster Cult, Rush and Black Sabbath.

Justice – Audio, Video, Disco tracklist:

1. “Horsepower”
2. “Civilization”
3. “Ohio”
4. “Canon (Primo)”
5. “Canon”
6. “On ‘n’ On”
7. “Brainvision”
8. “Parade”
9. “New Lands”
10. “Helix”
11. “Audio, Video, Disco”

Mark McGuire has picked and plucked away at drone, ambient chords for quite a while now, both with his band Emeralds and in a separate solo project. Deplete of the synths and electronic elements that are so essential to Emeralds’ sound, McGuire’s solo output instead aligns itself with guitar records whose focus rests on live instrumentation and accompanied looping rather than lyrical diversity. His latest release, Get Lost, is no different, but we see McGuire dabbling with minor vocals and a more deliberate (although still heavy) use of drone effects.

Compared with 2010’s Living With Yourself, McGuire’s newest acquisition demonstrates a greater sense of intention behind his musical process. Rather than honing his skills with improvisation, McGuire uses reoccurring motifs in the form of bubbling loops and specific key plucking to create an accessible soundscape. Whether listeners are able to distinguish his exact intentions and ideas is strictly determined by the individual. However, McGuire provides his audience with a consistent framework to achieve such realizations. Not everybody takes the initiative to understand a musician’s greater meaning behind the music, thus Get Lost functions pleasantly as an album whose optimism is found in its beautifully arranged instrumentation.

Opening and title track “Get Lost” steals the spotlight on the six-song collection. Utilizing an immense filter on lightly strummed guitar chords, McGuire gradually dials up the volume and energy of the track until it reaches a hazy, albeit brief climax. However climatic the end of the song renders itself, it doesn’t necessarily fulfill its preceding buildup because of its fuzzy nature and short existence. “Another Dead End” begins rather slowly before proceeding into a three-chord progression, all the while emitting a sort of swirling atmosphere.

It’s pretty clear that McGuire is trying to deliberately construct and arrange his loops and layers, but he also attempts to tighten his output with his own voice. We first hear McGuire’s sensitive vocals on “Alma” and later in “Alma (Reprise)/Chances Are …” His singing bestows another layer of softness to his guitar strumming and further promotes the albums cohesive sound.

Closing the album is “Firefly Constellations,” an exaggerated 20-minute escapade into celestial soundscapes and gurgling drones. McGuire’s live chords are washed over with twinkling satellite drones that will either immerse your ears or have you begging for the mute switch. Like the preceding songs, the album’s closer trades suspenseful dynamics for a more consistent outpour, and this exchange doesn’t lend itself to any real intensity.

Despite his lush guitar arpeggios and diverse arrangement of layers and loops, McGuire’s recent effort seems slightly incomplete.

Almost every one of the collection’s six tracks toys with the possibility of a momentous acceleration, yet none fulfill such expectations. The individual tracks tend to leave listeners hanging in mid-space, wanting and anticipating more. Get Lost lacks an overall “wow factor,” something that would set McGuire’s minimal instrumentals apart from an oversaturated industry. It begs the question then, if McGuire is so well-associated with bubbling drone ascetics, where should he draw the line between tasteful arrangements and painful overuse? Consequently, Get Lost would benefit tenfold if McGuire dialed the drone down a bit and put the spotlight on his precise chord selection.

Mark McGuire – Get Lost tracklist:

1. “Get Lost”
2. “When You’re Somewhere (You Ought to Be There)”
3. “Alma”
4. “Another Dead End”
5. “Alma (Reprise)/Chances Are …”
6. “Firefly Constellations”

By the time you’ve listened through the intro track, “Posters,” you’ll have a pretty good grasp of what Youth Lagoon’s debut album, The Year of Hibernation, has to offer. Through the four minutes it takes the song to run its course, there’s a slow yet powerful build to an emotional climax, an excellent bass breakdown, a catchy drumbeat and an overwhelming sense of all-encompassing anxiety.

Youth Lagoon is the name multi-instrumentalist Trevor Powers uses while mixing piano and synths together to form surprisingly introspective and emotional chillwave music, and his first full-length album is an overwhelming success. Over the course of  The Year of Hibernation’s eight tracks, listeners are given a fresh and unique experience: catchy, structurally simple riffs float in, overdose on reverb, are given space to expand and echo, and yet still end up immediately understandable, accessible, and even occasionally danceable. It’s rare when an artist can take something simple and turn it into something elegant, but that’s exactly what Powers does with his synths and that’s why the album is so strong.

The synths make or break the songs, and as a result, instrumentation frequently overrides the vocals, which are often downplayed or kept quiet, and heavily filtered to sound hazy or watery. Focusing on the lush synthesizer or piano riffs definitely plays to the band’s strengths, but those interested in dissecting and absorbing the lyrics may have a difficult time deciphering exactly what Powers is singing.

Although the muddied vocals fit perfectly into the heavy reverb of the album, it’s still a little disappointing that the wording is so hard to make out because the lyrics really are well-written and tap into some powerful feelings—listeners just won’t notice unless they really dig for it. Luckily, the album’s sound alone provides a very concrete emotional context for us to connect to, so muffled vocals aren’t really a big hindrance. Still, it’s something to be prepared for when first listening to the record.

That constant appeal to emotional connection, surprisingly varied song structure and strong instrumentation make every track on the album worth multiple listens, but highlight tracks such as the aforementioned “Posters,” the catchy and drum-driven “Cannons,” and the upbeat and ever-changing “Daydream” will keep listeners returning to The Year of Hibernation for multiple takes.

If there is one song people have to hear though, it’s the album’s seventh track, “Montana,” which perfectly captures what makes all of the above great and then ramps it all up. It’s a slow build to an extremely satisfying expulsion of emotion that stays with the listener long after the album is over. It’s hard not to cheer along when the song hits the explosive climax. It’s almost a must-listen experience, and it really shows how great The Year of Hibernation can be.

It’s melodically simple, but lyrically dense; catchy, but heartbreaking and genuine, The Year of Hibernation marks Youth Lagoon as one of the best new acts in recent memory, and if there’s any real complaint to be made about the album, it’s that it’s over too quickly.

Youth Lagoon – The Year of Hibernation Tracklist:

1. “Posters”
2. “Cannons”
3. “Afternoon”
4. “17”
5. “July”
6. “Daydream”
7. “Montana”
8. “The Hunt”

Eric Bachmann, a former member of the disbanded yet recently revived Archers of Loaf, has crafted his sixth LP for all those broken hearts, hopeless romantics, and guilt-ridden. The album is a beautiful life lesson to be heard through his significant vocals and minimal instrumentation, and although his previous Forfeit/Fortune may have over saturated the idea of self-realization, Bachmann’s latest offering under the moniker Crooked Fingers, yields a sense of necessary brokenness to achieve its greater meaning.

Recorded with The Pixies’ live sound engineer Matt Yelton, Breaks’ unpolished sound contributes to its overall essence as an album riddled with lyrical beauty, regret and melancholy. Thus, its homemade quality doesn’t compromise the album as a whole, but instead, it paints a more natural picture for listeners and further showcases the artists’ sincerity to his music. The fuzzy beginning of “The Hatchet” is a perfect example of Bachmann’s organic recording and producing methods. Bachmann’s sophisticated and rich vocals also play an integral role as they earnestly reflect on the singer’s past experiences and potential future, touching on personal topics that are widely familiar.

In the opening track “Typhoon,” Bachmann establishes a feeling of exhausted remorse, which remains a reoccurring theme throughout the 11-track collection. He softly laments “forgotten lows” and past grievances that seem to haunt his troubled consciousness, like ghosts beneath a full moon. Not only does Bachmann directly spell out his emotional turmoil, but tracks like “Bad Blood” and “Heavy Hours” also insist that listeners share in his disconnected grief. Certainly there are life lessons that can only be learned through heartache, and Bachmann’s latest offering taps into these painful realizations with an ice pick.

Breaks’ elegance rests largely on Bachmann’s devout songwriting and performance rather than his instrumentation.

“The Hatchet” lies at the lowest end of the spectrum with stripped acoustics, simple chord selection and minimal vocals, while “The Counterfeiter” tips the scale, adding spirited rhythms and tasteful arrangements. An ongoing, perilous refrain in “Black Candles” imparts massive dread, but lighthearted piano beautifies the background instrumentals.

Overall, the massive weight embedded in the folk melodies crafted by Crooked Fingers occasionally anchor this latest offering to an ominous soundscape, one that may be difficult for listeners to dig themselves out of. Although Bachmann has courageously proven his ability to write and compose beautiful music, Breaks is not the sort of album one should listen to for positive motivation. In fact, the heavy heartbreak and overall feeling of remorse Bachmann displays in his latest album is one for those who need some good, depressing tunes to intensify a sulk session.

Crooked Fingers – Breaks in the Armor tracklist:

1. “Typhoon”
2. “Bad Blood”
3. “The Hatchet”
4. “The Counterfeiter”
5. “Heavy Hours”
6. “Black Candles”
7. “Went to the City”
8. “Your Apocalypse”
9. “War Horses”
10. “She Tows the Line”
11. “Our New Favorite”

All things considered, Coldplay has done a pretty good job at not crippling under the enormous pressure of fame and expectation after A Rush of Blood to the Head in 2002. While it didn’t throw caution to the wind like Radiohead did, the quartet’s subsequent releases stayed true to form. X&Y may have been riddled with cheesy lyrics and a lack of musical progression, but Viva la Vida saw the members turn to producer extraordinaire Brian Eno for guidance. While that album didn’t have an entirely clear direction, it did sound like Coldplay was becoming less concerned with mainstream conventions, a trend which continues on the band’s fifth LP, Mylo Xyloto.

A supposed concept album about two characters, conveniently named Mylo and Xyloto—it’s “a love story with a happy ending”—this latest release sounds like the members of Coldplay are doing whatever they want.

The sonic approach to this album stands in stark contrast with their others. It’s very bright and peppy, even occasionally borrowing from recent trends such as chillwave (perhaps inadvertently). While they still keep in mind the stadiums they will be performing at with numbers such as “Paradise,” Chris Martin and Co. seem to be appealing to the indie crowd more than ever.

This is apparent from opening song “Hurts Like Heaven,” which in many regards could have been found on the myriad summery, indie-pop albums to surface during the past year or two if it weren’t for the unmistakable voice of Martin. To that end, the use of piano and Jon Buckland’s guitar nuances (when he’s not ripping off The Edge) help maintain Coldplay’s identity as well throughout the album, piercing through the dense production. Martin implements some vocal effects and slightly off-kilter harmonies which give the track a little extra character, and things are off to a surprisingly good start.

After the aforementioned “Paradise,” “Charlie Brown” utilizes pitch-shifted vocals akin to those on Delorean’s singles from last year to great effect before Martin’s prized falsetto takes over. This dynamic anthem proves to be the best track on the album.

Unfortunately, after “Charlie Brown,” the momentum starts to give way and the bursting creativity lessens several degrees from the dull “Us Against the World” through to the end of the album.

Lead single “Every Teardrop Is a Waterfall” sits in the middle before a pair of mildly interesting, acoustic-based tracks. (Side note: How is it that songs titled “My Tears Are Becoming a Sea” and “Every Teardrop Is a Waterfall” have been on major albums released not only in the same year, but one week apart?) “Major Minus” has Radiohead circa Hail to the Thief stamped right on it, but in spite of that and because of that, its bass groove is pretty undeniable. “U.F.O.” is a short tune with some downright pretty fingerpicked guitar work and Martin’s most soulful, soft croon on the album.

A rather bizarre twist follows in “Princess of China”: Rihanna appears. To be fair, with the style shift seen on Mylo, she doesn’t sound terribly out of place, even if it is a bit of a head-scratcher. This will definitely be one of the most, if not the most, disputed choices on the album. It doesn’t sound like Coldplay is using Rihanna to make a big hit, but it’s definitely got that sort of potential. Take it or leave it.

After that, everything else seems tame. “Up With the Birds” is another unconvincing closer like “Death and All His Friends” was, and by this point, the excitement the listener may have gotten from the strong start will be greatly diminished.

The band is trying to push things forward—and they do to a certain extent—but there is little depth to dig into after a couple plays through.

In the end, Mylo Xyloto gives the haters another reason to hate and the fans a fresh set of songs to enjoy for the next few years. Coldplay is, at this point, critically immune, as most listeners will approach this with their opinions already formed. They’re never going to make an album as honest as Parachutes or as strong as Rush, but they’re taking their time and they aren’t just playing it safe—even though they definitely could.

Coldplay – Mylo Xyloto tracklist:

1. “Mylo Xyloto”
2. “Hurts Like Heaven”
3. “Paradise”
4. “Charlie Brown”
5. “Us Against the World”
6. “M.M.I.X.”
7. “Every Teardrop Is a Waterfall”
8. “Major Minus”
9. “U.F.O.”
10. “Princess of China”
11. “Up in Flames”
12. “A Hopeful Transmission”
13. “Don’t Let It Break Your Heart”
14. “Up with the Birds”

A note to Kelly Clarkson’s perpetual resident leaker: Please keep doing what you do because it seems that we can’t seem to wait a minute more for Clarkson every time.

Clarkson’s bad luck has been a hinderance many times in her career. Her fifth studio album, Stronger, has been no exception to this curse. She auditioned for “American Idol” after her apartment burned down, she constantly falls ill while touring, and finds that most of her records (including the latest) are leaked before their intended release.

Among those leaks was Stronger‘s lead single, “Mr. Know It All.” It’s significant that there was a change in her angle this time around because this lead was weaker than most fire-spitting singles she’s put out in the past. “My Life Would Suck Without You” and “Since U Been Gone” are some of the highlights of Clarkson’s past, which have rocked out and resounded for years. This tune, on the contrary, is much more adult contemporary than any other single in the past. “Mr. Know It All” is surely very Clarkson, but peraps the ex-lover of “Miss Independent.” Its Tina Turner vibe was strange.

As if Clarkson knew we were questioning her taste for cutting-edge music, she whips out magnitude in the title anthem, “What Doesn’t Kill You (Stronger).” This track encompasses the entire idea of Stronger, relating to the difficulties she had to overcome as both a person and a working musician.

This song will ignite a fire in its listeners.

“What Doesn’t Kill You (Stronger)” is an electric dance-pop mix that goes outside Clarkson’s regular area of performance, but it is nothing to complain about.  When it hits airwaves, it’s sure to go global not just because its message is positive and classic, but also because it pumps out pure gold ingeniously.

Soon, “Dark Side” prefaces the rest of the album with a bit more hushed and sultry tone. At this point, listeners should be happy that they were at least warned that the party’s over. Before Stronger reaches halfway through the album, unfortunately, it loses steam.

Before you predict how Clarkson formats the rest of Stronger, allow yourself to be surprised one last time. “You Love Me” is the emotional peak of the album and possibly her career. A Prince-resounding backtrack accents the idea of conditional love while she repeats her ideas as her trials spill onto the most unedited vocal lines and raw lyrical scripts in her history.

Although fans can hear classic Clarkson in there for a few moments where she delivers—later in “Let Me Down” and the clever essential pop track “Einstein”— there’s a certain void of sincerity that previous albums fulfilled. Songs such as “Standing in Front of You” and “Honestly” are boring.

To put it simply, the concept behind Stronger has been done before, so it might’ve been an easy center for the project. The theme eliminates the challenge of acquiring consistency from start to finish. If everything truly makes you stronger, then couldn’t that be an excuse for the album totally sucking if it did?

Don’t splurge on the deluxe version unless it’s via iTunes, where there’s an additional bonus track. Producers should’ve traded Clarkson’s duet with Kara DioGuardi (huh?) for the soulful Eric Hutchinson-penned crooner “Why Don’t You Try” to close the album. Instead, it ends with a flimsy sleeper track.

Doesn’t this woman know better than to produce half-good songs after all this time, given what she’s been through? After all, she’s learned now and she claims to be stronger! So here’s to hoping it’s not just a front.

Kelly Clarkson – Stronger tracklist:

1. “Mr. Know It All”
2. “What Doesn’t Kill You (Stronger)”
3. “Dark Side”
4. “Honestly”
5. “You Love Me”
6. “Einstein”
7. “Standing in Front of You”
8. “I Forgive You”
9. “Hello”
10. “The War Is Over”
11. “Let Me Down”
12. “You Can’t Win”
13. “Breaking Your Own Heart”
14. “Don’t You Wanna Stay” (Deluxe edition)
15. “Alone” (Deluxe edition)
16. “Don’t Be a Girl About It” (Deluxe edition)
17. “The Sun Will Rise” (Deluxe edition)
18. “Why Don’t You Try” (iTunes Store deluxe edition bonus track)

Trying to describe James Blake’s musical style can be a bit of a challenge. The term “dubstep” is inevitably thrown around like a hot potato, never dwelled upon too long, of course, seeing as no one can seem to pin down its exact meaning. That’s because it doesn’t have one. Let’s not even approach “post-dubstep.”

Blake’s self-titled album, released in February, made the London native a substantial force in his hometown, a silent hit on our side of the pond, and a bona fide indie-electronic sweetheart to us all. Now he’s returned with his much-anticipated—and slightly disappointing—follow-up EP, Enough Thunder.

What made Blake’s self-titled album so rich and fresh was its approach to R&B. He melded his confident and smooth vocals and bluesy melodies with a rhythmic disjointedness; several different distorted percussions built tension while his deep voice remained in easy, lax control over the entire sound. It was an experiment in structured chaos that simply glowed in the “dubstep” dark.

While it is never the greatest (let alone fairest) idea to judge an artist’s newest release against his or her prior ones, Enough Thunder leaves a listener wondering where that pulse—or whatever that certain crave-worthy energy was that oozed out of Blake’s first album—disappeared to. Whereas his self-titled release had that innovative percussive element that helped make his solemn R&B sound so new, this EP features even more lax vocals—melodies that sound largely improvised, even—over almost no percussive tension. The effect is somewhat less than stimulating. Without that pulse that Blake formerly crafted so subtly and well, the heat of his music goes out. With all thunder and no lightning, how beautiful is a storm?

The low, languid piano tones that structure the opening track, “Once We All Agree,” again come off somewhat like Blake sat down at the piano and decided to wing it, like he chose four chords and stuck with them, allowing his voice to explore whatever realms and rhythms (or lack thereof) he pleased. And that’s not a terrible thing; Blake does have incredible pitch and a rich timbre that is absolutely butter-smooth. But what made the impending release of this EP so exciting was the expectation of continued production innovation; his vocals never carried his sound or stylistic mission. Now that they do, that sound has become a bit limp.

On the EP’s title and last track, “Enough Thunder,” Blake hits the mark it seems he was aiming for in the previous five songs. His R&B bent is brought farther to the front at last. His vocals finally shine in communicating this gospel-like melody, the soulful element of which is what was, frankly, missing from his other voice-and-piano-alone piece, a cover of Joni Mitchell’s “A Case of You” that feels a bit awkward in timing.

All of this said, Blake remains one of the most exciting artists to watch as he further develops his style and decides what he wants to say to the musical world.

This EP is certainly quite different from what he seemed to be stating in his first album. It is not as strong, but it is certainly not unintelligent, either. It is not an EP to be replayed out of love or innovation, but it could be a step toward something larger, some sound that Blake still needs to discover himself. At the moment, though, a few listens of Enough Thunder is more than enough.

James Blake – Enough Thunder tracklist:

1. “Once We All Agree”
2. “We Might Feel Unsound”
3. “Fall Creek Boys Choir”
4. “A Case of You”
5. “Not Long Now”
6. “Enough Thunder”

A band’s first demo is often remembered more as a historical piece than a definitive musical document. For New York’s Polar Bear Club, the group’s demo is still heralded as some of the band’s strongest work—something that “To the Engravers” exemplifies.

In its early days, Polar Bear Club bridged the gap between post-hardcore and indie rock by exploiting the inherent catchiness of each genre. With two full-lengths and a stellar EP added to its discography, Polar Bear Club returns with Clash Battle Guilt Pride. From the simplistic opening of “Pawner,” it is abundantly clear that Jimmy Stadt’s come a long way since PBC’s early releases.

Although Stadt may have improved on a technical level, his work on Clash Battle Guilt Pride is lifeless. Just because he’s screaming doesn’t mean there is actually any heart behind it.

When the rest of the band joins Stadt, he fares no better, and unfortunately, PBC’s musicianship is the weakest it has ever been. “Screams in Caves” offers some fairly interesting riffing between guitarists Chris Brown and Nate Morris, but the recording removes all of the power those riffs may have had when they were initially written.

The production is not the sole thing to blame for PBC’s lack of success on this album; the songwriting wasn’t up to par either. On earlier recordings, the band was not afraid to showcase its vulnerability, and it is what makes tracks such as “Burned Out in a Jar” from 2008’s Sometimes Things Just Disappear so effective. Instead of channeling post-hardcore acts, PBC appears to be reaching for lowest common denominator of modern rock radio.

Even on PBC’s 2009 mixed sophomore album, Chasing Hamburg, it boasted songs with huge choruses—“Living Saints” being a prime example—that still contained an emotional wallop. Where each of PBC’s early records showed the group growing as songwriters, it is disappointing to see them take such a huge step backward on Clash Battle Guilt Pride.

“My Best Days” sees Stadt baring a close resemblance to Rise Against’s Tim McIlrath, as the band turns in a watered-down melodic hardcore song not that far off from what Rise Against has been up to as of late. As the album progresses, it becomes clear that Clash Battle Guilt Pride isn’t a mediocre Polar Bear Club album; it’s PBC trying to be a different band, one that just so happens to be mediocre.

As previous releases have proven, Polar Bear Club knows how to end an album. Sadly, “3-4 Tango” lacks all the power of great closers such as “Convinced I’m Wrong” or “Most Miserable Life.” Instead of ending triumphantly, Clash Battle Guilt Pride concludes with a shrug. All that can be shown for the album is some run-of-the-mill rock songs that lack the desperation that made Polar Bear Club so appealing in the first place.

Polar Bear Club – Clash Battle Guilt Pride tracklist:

1. “Pawner”
2. “Killin’ It”
3. “Screams in Caves”
4. “Kneel on Nails”
5. “My Best Days”
6. “Life Between the Lines”
7. “I’ll Never Leave New York”
8. “Bottled Wind”
9. “Slow Roam”
10. “Religion on the Radio”
11. “3-4 Tango”

In the days of Fall Out Boy, Pete Wentz took the lyrical work while Patrick Stump worked out the composition. Stump now rounds off his work with 110 percent of the composition of Soul Punk, playing percussion, synth, guitar, trumpet and more. For a man to work so hard to polish a solo career after his peak in a group is really crucial to the rest of his career. It didn’t work for Brandon Flowers or Mel C, but it brought greatness to Bjork and Cee-lo Green. So should it work for Stump?

Stump is often praised for his versatile yet consistent vocal work because it can sound very R&B naturally, but it works well along pop and punk mixes. But still, here in Stump’s most freeing environment to create work, he essentially sacrifices organic work for oddity. Sometimes the weirdest sound creations are spat into the listeners’ eardrums, like a burping, growling noise in  “Run Dry” with a screeching outro. Often this free energy can produce sounds that are too wild for pleasure. Yikes.

What he lacks is the talent of the lyricism. This was his first attempt at writing for music. Although Stump did an admirable job in his initial tries at writing, the efforts are dampened by the veil of terrible work in songs such as “Run Dry (X Heart X Fingers)” where listeners are given a step-by-step runthrough of a night of partying along frilly pop beats. The song is the most radio-friendly on the album, but this isn’t what the album was made for.

Soul Punk was supposed to defy the “I’m so drunk” ways of the popular Top 40 trends, and here, it conforms as much as possible.

It streamlines eight and a half minutes of bullshit, too. Fans need to brush past this shame in order to fully appreciate any aspect of the album.

“The ‘I’ in Lie” is the most reminiscent track on the album. It’s as if FOB’s name has been covered up by a piece of masking tape on this tune and replaced with Stump’s. It’s charming and flowing plus every bit relatable as can be. If Fall Out Boy were together today, this is surely what they’d sound like. With this song and “Allie,” both cute and emotional pop-punk rhymes, there are themes that can be related to many types of audiences. Here is where Stump might find the most fan love.

Prince and Michael Jackson can be audibly traced as inspiration in Stump’s recordings. Soul Punk is really neat here in the way it draws inspiration from classics but remains original. Especially with “When I Made You Cry,” the most classic number on the album. It’s fun and rhythmic, never pausing or letting up and remaining exceptionally old-school.

“Mad At Nothing” is also sweet, pulsating and trancelike. It’ll suck you in, and it won’t let go till it finishes in silence at the record’s ultimate close.

This man deserves whole credit for producing everything on Soul Punk himself, even with his own money. He pulled off the solo act as best as he possibly could. It’s clear that Stump worked his butt off to make the most perfect compilation possible, delaying the release from February to October as a way of ensuring greatness to his fans. He even pushed “This City” as his first single to get his name back onto the table. Although it wasn’t true to the album as a whole (through superficial babbling and an unfortunate key change), it was a smart way of attracting the mainstream scene once again. The combination of image and artistry is the clear package for success today, and Stump accomplished such in the best way possible.

Patrick Stump – Soul Punk tracklist:

1. “Explode”
2. “This City”
3. “Dance Miserable”
4. “Spotlight (New Regrets)”
5. “The ‘I’ in Lie”
6. “Run Dry (X Heart X Fingers)”
7. “Greed”
8. “Everybody Wants Somebody”
9. “Allie”
10. “Coast (It’s Gonna Get Better)”

Emerging from the hip-hop underground in the late-1990s, Los Angeles’ Murs has become a bastion of the independent rap world. Since the release of F’Real way back in 1997, Murs has released several full-lengths and done numerous collaborations—a great deal of it on his own terms. His latest release, Love and Rockets, Volume 1: The Transformation sees Murs team up with Ski Beatz to create an album that exemplifies the strongest traits of both artists.

Wasting little time, the duo dives headfirst with jagged, biting beats as Murs displays how strong of a flow he’s developed. “Epic Salutations” not only brings the listener in, but it also sets the tone for the rest of Love and Rockets. Murs effortlessly jumps from topic to topic—including a rather unexpected hop to Million Dollar Man Ted DiBiase—and Ski Beatz adds subtle flourishes that keep the track from becoming stagnant.

As the album progresses, Murs focuses his rhymes, building story archs around Ski Beatz’s production. “Remember 2 Forget” is a break-up song that opens with Murs posing the question, “Do you ever wish you had amnesia/Like you could forget/Whoever it was that ruined it for everyone else?/That one person/if you could just forget them/Like, you would have a happier life.” It’s not uncommon for Murs to deal with such subject matter, and because of this he’s often been labeled as “emo rap.” It would be unfair to label Murs as such given the diverse range of topics he’s covered, but his capabilities to easily tap into an emotional core have always been one of his strongest qualities.

Throughout the course of Love and Rockets, Murs uses his songs to create vignettes for his audience. However, this approach yields mixed results.

While he’s a capable stroyteller, the subject matter covered in “67 Cutlass” comes off incredibly clichéd. It’s a tale of drug dealing, cop killing, and other well-worn ground. It’s not to say that Murs doesn’t fully create the scene and see it through; it’s the lack of character development, or new and engaging twists, that leaves the track lifeless.

It is on “Animal Style” when Murs is able to take his storytelling and songwriting to a new level. The track builds tension slowly, thanks in large part to Murs’ delivery and Ski Beatz’s tense production. As the song moves to its climax, it keeps the listener in suspense about how the story will unfold, and when the last verse drops, it hushes listeners in its wake.

Love and Rockets doesn’t break much new ground for Murs, but it also doesn’t see him retreading the same path he’s taken before. Together, Murs and Ski Beatz have proven a solid team; one adeptly accents the other. However, Love and Rockets suffers from not seeing the duo step outside of their respective comfort zones. It’s a strong effort but with enough weak spots to keep it from being a true transformation for either of them.

Murs – Love and Rockets, Volume 1: The Transformation tracklist:

1. “Epic Salutations”
2. “Remember 2 Forget”
3. “’67 Cutlass”
4. “Eazy-E”
5. “Hip Hop and Love”
6. “International”
7. “S-k-i-b-e-a-t-z”
8. “Westside Love”
9. “Life and Time”
10. “Reach Hire”
11. “Dream On”
12. “316 Ways”
13. “Animal Style”