Pop 'stache

When an artist has a kid, usually their music has that inevitable release of “humbled” music, singing of their newfound enlightenment and zest for life. This wasn’t true with the Minneapolis-based musicians Atmosphere in their new Family Sign record. Since the last time we heard a full-length release from the duo, vocalist Slug and his wife have had a second child and so has another member of the band. And though the child is mentioned once or twice, it certainly doesn’t overbear in the content of the record. Because of this, it’s safe to say Atmosphere has consistently considered the intentions of their fans when they put together their new release.

Atmosphere kept the material close to what’s been relevant since their start a few decades ago. Take it as a blessing, because had it been any other way, the album couldn’t have been as classic as it is: fire-spitting hip-hop with a taste of something fresh and interesting. The band is always keeping it exciting and hearty as they bring together pieces of story and metaphor when they compile words and song alongside their signature piano beats. So if that’s what fans are looking for, they won’t be disappointed.

Though the music is a taste of their past, it’s progressed since their last When Life Hands You Lemons… work. What used to be centered upon the glories and consequences of the party scene is now focused on a more detached yet reminiscent angle.

Though it sounds the same as classic Atmosphere, its mood is notably low and somber as opposed to uplifting or ironic. It’s not a bad change, though. There’s maturity in the band’s evolution as musicians and songwriters.

A man getting lost in the woods is actually about life decisions. An alcoholic father taking his kids to the bar is actually about a second generation of rappers that Slug is embarrassed by. And a bad party scene is actually about not breaking personal character. Deconstructing these ideas is part of the beauty in Atmosphere’s art. It’s true to their work in The Family Sign just as it has since the beginning.

The Family Sign is a complete set from start to finish. From “My Key” to “My Notes,” a variety of stories and emotions put together a well-rounded compilation. Six of the songs in the thick of the record are almost scary to listen to for several different reasons.  “Millenium Dodo,” “Bad Bad Daddy” and “Just For Show” are confrontational songs filled with resentment and bitterness. The only thing gained from these songs is an interesting story with another fine metaphor. If they were lightened in tune and in lyric, they might be easier to listen to, but that could also kill a piece of its truth. The main fault with the record is its tendency to cause discomfort with the listener. It continues with “Who I’ll Never Be” and “I Don’t Need Brighter Days,” which each have their own take on the darkness but still contribute to the overall theme.

The simplicity is made complete when taking into consideration the album art with a baby’s fist in front of the white background laced with gold.

The beauty lies in the place where all there needs to be is a light guitar, some piano and the ever-familiar rap vox. Though the motive becomes a little distorted in the midst of the ominous tracks, by the end of the record, we’re reminded that this alone is all the fans need to feel the raw emotion every single time.

Atmosphere – The Family Sign Tracklist:

1. “My Key”
2. “The Last To Say”
3. “Became”
4. “Just For Show”
5. “She’s Enough”
6. “Big Bad Daddy”
7. “Millenium Dodo”
8. “Who I’ll Never Be”
9. “I Don’t Need Brighter Days”
10. “Ain’t Nobody”
11. “Your Name Here”
12. “If You Can Save Me Now”
13. “Something So”
14. “My Notes”

When listening to the third record from Baltimore quartet Ponytail, it’s helpful for the listener to picture in his or her mind a “ponytail” in its original derivation—as the pony trots along rhythmically, the long strands of hair sway back and forth hypnotically. The ponytail seems to shimmer like strands of silk in the sun, but its silkiness is an illusion—in reality, the horse hair is quite coarse and tough.

Ponytail produces the musical equivalent of this picture, punctuated by the Siouxsie-like whinnies of Molly Siegel that pop across the vast deserts of sound like percolating popcorn in the midday sun. Throughout, guitarists Dustin Wong and Ken Seeno introduce angles of rhythmic noodling that interlaces with full-force electronic blips and bleeps and rhythmic syncopations from percussionist Jeremy Hyman (who’s been playing with the Boredoms as of late—their member Eye made the cover art for this release).

Although the tracklisting of seven songs begs for the EP bin, the tracks average more than five minutes and the total running length is more than 36 minutes. That said, after repeated listens these compositions start to sound like improvisations on the same theme.

Siegel yelps and screams like some bizarre hybrid of Björk’s vocals in The Sugarcubes and Yoko Ono, and her “lyrics” seem to be largely improvisational dada-ist questions and statements. After a while, it’s hard to tell if she’s saying “What?” or “One!” on “Easy Peasy” and “Flabbermouse” and most of the time it’s hard to understand what she’s saying exactly, but that’s clearly not the point. Her vocal caterwauls (with a capital C) serve as a high-pitched instrument, as opposed to being a source of meaning in Ponytail.

Siegel’s soprano provides the chunks of ice in the musical blender that contains Ponytail. The dual guitars weave kaleidoscopic patterns over a base of electronics and syncopated rhythms, but after a while one realizes that there’s nowhere near the melodies and hooks there could be, which is quite frustrating, given the talent and creativity clearly at work on Do Whatever You Want All the Time.

The jazzy but angular guitar interplay sounds inspired by post-rock/math-rock auteurs like Polvo or Pinback, but it ends up sounding like Edie Brickell’s missing New Bohemians after a three-way tricycle accident.

Just because J. Robbins from Jawbox produced this, don’t expect it to sound at all Jawboxian—their off-kilter sensibility approaches the Deerhoofian, but Deerhoof have a better penchant for melody expressed in spurts throughout their recordings.

The end result sounds like techno-punks Crystal Castles playing during “your local forecast” on The Weather Channel, but injected with tranquilizers … the horse kind, of course.  After all, a ponytail covers what could be loosely referred as a horse’s ass, and although the first trip is pleasant, after riding behind this pony on a few too many trips, one starts to get a whiff of something foul, despite what seems at first to be a lovely blonde rainbow of horse hair.

Ponytail – Do Whatever You Want All The Time Tracklist:

1. “Easy Peasy”
2. “Flabbermouse”
3. “Honey Touches”
4. “Beyondersville//Flight of Fancy”
5. “AwayWay”
6. “Tush”
7. “Music Tunes”

Explosions in the Sky have had a difficult time evolving their sound since the release of their 2003 classic The Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place. The album spawned thousands of followers and copycats, but the band struggled to stay relevant ever since. The pressure to create a follow-up was evident and every year that passed built up more and more anticipation.

When All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone finally appeared in 2007, it didn’t deliver. Though a few new ideas were spread across its six tracks, the formula already sounded a bit worn-out. The Austin, Texas quartet could still transcend all those new bands aping them thanks to their wonderfully lush production and trademark guitar interplay, but nothing on the album was particularly spectacular. Now, four years later the next installment finally arrives, hopefully more exciting than the last.

The redundantly titled Take Care, Take Care, Take Care is another six-song affair with all the same standards in place, but even from the beginning something’s quite different. Strings open the record followed by a distant electronic beat and even more distant babbling sounds. When the band kicks in, they sound rejuvenated. There is a drive in opener “Last Known Surroundings” not heard since their earlier works.

The band clearly still has a knack for creating vivid images by pairing their music with perfectly descriptive song titles.

“Human Qualities,” however, takes it to another level. Feeding off the momentum with a galloping rhythm played by what sounds like hands beating on thighs with light effects treatment. There is subtle use of sampling techniques throughout the record—subtle and fitting. They then bring it down to a low rumble and start to rebuild. Faint voices appear amongst the beautiful guitar. They take their time here, slowly developing anticipation for a few minutes.

The climax in post-rock is all but predictable by now, but a well executed one can still excite like it used to and here they launch a truly glorious explosion living up to their namesake.

The galloping continues into the three-and-a-half-minute “Trembling Hands” with a still unprecedented energy. Pulsing vocal “ohs” are a welcome addition to the sound and when the band reaches peak volume, a higher pitch pulse produced on guitar responds in the background. It’s quite nice and again shows how the band is able to work simple yet effective new ideas into the material.

The second half takes on a more traditional approach, but the energy and quality remains. Closer “Let Me Back In” even has a groove to it. Some reversed vocals peer in and out. Instead of ending with a bang, the group opts to let the listener down slowly. A wise move, as the music before was plenty of thrill for one sitting.

So in the end, Explosions in the Sky are just doing their thing. It’s a thing everyone’s heard before. But these days everything in post-rock has already been said and done. It’s the live shows that remain killer. Explosions in the Sky will no doubt induce many out-of-body experiences with these songs. Even then, Take Care is a rare treat in the current post-rock world that overcomes its lack of freshness with fiery passion.

Explosions in the Sky – Take Care, Take Care, Take Care Tracklist:

1. “Last Known Surroundings”
2. “Human Qualities”
3. “Trembling Hands”
4. “Be Comfortable, Creature”
5. “Postcard from 1952”
6. “Let Me Back In”

Chicago indie band A Lull have released their long-awaited debut, Confetti. The group possesses a truly unique sound, one that will unfairly be compared to Animal Collective, despite its highly singular aesthetic. In fact, attempting to fit the record into a strict genre would be an act of invalidity.

A Lull are clearly unconcerned with creating music that fits itself into a niche. Instead, they rely on rhythm and percussion to drive home a sound that’s as accessible as it is thoughtfully crafted.

Lyrically, lead singer Nigel Dennis proves to be as much a nihilist as he is a hedonist. Many the tracks on Confetti revolved around a similar theme of ominous abandonment, the subject of which almost always returning to acts of carnality. Like the track “Mammals,” in which he proclaims, “All we know are each others’ holes,” or “Phem,” where he suggests “You play games with your body, in a good way/Find you to be made in the right way.”

Dennis’ sophomoric outlook can be asinine, but his tongue remains firmly in his cheek. His apparent unconcern in appearing juvenile is obvious in the richly textured music that finds its way onto the album.

Confetti proves to be the most fitting title: Despite the pulsating percussion arrangements, the album boasts a listless sound that falls with grace amid the thunderous commotion. The excellent “Phem” is perhaps the prime example of this aesthetic. With its vociferous yet unobtrusive rhythm structure, the band is able to explore a wide palate of melody.

The album’s opener, “Weapons for War” proves an adequate introduction for A Lull. Throbbing instrumentation and Dennis’ off-kilter vocal stylization  are in full effect, as his penchant for vague yet capricious lyricism: “I went home with my very best friend/With a gun, with a blade, with a name.”

From there, the album is a roller coaster of sound and rhythm. It’s a remarkable feat. Despite the frenetic tonal quality, Confetti excels in finding its way back down to Earth without sacrificing its forward-thinking pop sensibility.

The album flows effortlessly, with each track melting into the other. This is made all the more perplexing considering the oscillating sounds that permeate the experience. The band’s unrelenting barrage of drum and bass is really the only consistent theme.

By and large, A Lull opt for tasteful experimentation as opposed to complacent arrangement.

There are missteps, however. The lethargic and hideously titled “Pregnancy” falls victim to its own weightiness, while the Animal Collective-channeling—and equally as absurdly titled—“White Girls” seems unfocused compared to the album’s stronger tracks.

But these minor deviations aren’t enough to detract from how thoroughly enjoyable the album is. Confetti stomps and bellows through a barrage of reverberating sounds. Though a surefire headphones record, the sounds A Lull support are tailor-made for the kind of environment that bolster the echoing booms and sonic synthesizing they create.

A Lull – Confetti Tracklist:

1. “Weapons For War”
2. “Mammals”
3. “Some Love”
4. “Dark Stuff”
5. “White Girl”
6. “Phem”
7. “Pregnancy”
8. “Sidemen”
9. “Water & Beasts”
10. “Spread It All Around”
11. “Aytche”

Animal Collective is one of the few bands today that seem to be incapable of any wrongdoing. Unfortunately, their Midas touch has recently only applied to their work as a group. The Collective’s Avey Tare released a passable solo effort last October and with Panda Bear’s newest solo album, Tomboy, fans are left with two just okay albums from previously proven musicians.

Tomboy is no Person Pitch. While Panda Bear’s last album was a fun, critically acclaimed album that took psychedelic pop to exciting new places, Tomboy comes off as something of a drag.

Sound-wise Tomboy is a darker album. Songs grind and gurgle, are generally slower than most of his other work and contain a greater focus on drumming and guitars than before. Panda Bear’s vocals also seemed to be more processed than normal. While it’s true that Panda Bear’s vocals have usually been reliant on a number of filters, this album gives him an empty, watery echo that leaves the album feeling moody or depressed.

Tomboy remains technically sound, but none of it is as daring as Panda Bear’s earlier works. One of the more popular songs from Person Pitch, “Take Pills” worked well because it was given the freedom to wander from one style to another all within the confines of a single song. Most of the songs on Tomboy however, are exhausted in about a minute; a rigid, somewhat repetitive structure is what defines a lot of this album’s music.

Panda Bear is one of the more creative artists working today, but consequently there are a few tracks that just don’t work out. Though the folk tale of Arabian Nights is a rich source to draw inspiration from, Tomboy’s “Scheherazade” does next to nothing with the exciting source material and even less toward developing the album’s sound. Expect a somber piano accompanied by droning vocals that don’t really excite or entice at any point.

Tomboy is not without high points, however. On “Surfer’s Hymn,” Panda Bear gets pretty close to recapturing some of his earlier charms. Unlike many other tracks, the hymn manages to build tension while bringing back the more upbeat, surf-inspired style that made Person Pitch such a success.

That being said, this album has the ability to grow on people. After the shock of the heavier style and syncopated percussion wears off, persistent fans will discover there is a good amount of depth to the album’s sound that makes repeat listens worthwhile.

As a dirge, Tomboy is a success; it’s dark, it’s down-tempo and its style reeks of melancholia, but as a Panda Bear album it’s sort of a disappointment. Nothing here is quite as exciting, new or even as polished as his work on earlier albums or with Animal Collective.

Those interested in seeing how Panda Bear continues to evolve his sound are encouraged to give the album a listen, but those looking for another upbeat summer album may want to pass on Tomboy.

Panda Bear – Tomboy Tracklisting:

1. “You Can Count on Me”
2. “Tomboy”
3. “Slow Motion”
4. “Surfer’s  Hymn”
5. Last Night at the Jetty”
6. “Drone”
7. “Alsatian Darn”
8. “Scheherazade”
9. “Friendship Bracelet”
10. “Afterburner”
11. “Benfica”

Simply and impossibly, Low has done it again. The Minnesotans count 18 years between a humble beginning and C’mon, though the lapse in time doesn’t show. There have been many incarnations of the band, but no matter the result, their palette remains the same. When the husband-and-wife duo, Alan Sparhawk and Mimi Parker, lay stratospheric harmonies over minimalist instrumentation, the result is a thing of unrestrained beauty.

Bidding adieu to the political days of Drums And Guns, Low’s latest was taped in the same cathedral as Trust; fitting for something so supernal. C’mon refines a sound that’s slow and steady, suspended and airy. It might also be the cheeriest (if that word can ever be applied) Low album, yet at least the glockenspiel on “Try to Sleep” seems to think so. All of Low’s the pent-up moroseness still lingers, only now it’s pierced by the bright rays of C’mon.

While the guitars soar in the rafters, the sparseness really sets in; there’s such thorough attention to each track that it’s easy to appreciate the small things.

“Especially Me” showcases Parker’s gift for lyrical charm, “Some songs sound like butter/Some songs sound like cake/This little number is for your sake.” There are odes to majesties, to nightingales, laments over dying dreams and lost loves; each bit a sweet lullaby, each bit radiant.

It never seems like Low is taking on too much—it never has, but for a band that seems so persnickety about sound, the lyric sheet does not disappoint. In the surprisingly poignant “$20,” the couplet, “Breath of a bird/A voice never heard,” proves Sparhawk’s poetic penchant. Like an Eye Spy book, the subtleties of C’mon are incredibly well placed; just when you think you’ve found every little detail, something pops out and surprises you. And even though the band does a lot with a little, it’s never overbearing. Slow they may be, drag they do not.

Low – C’mon Tracklist:

1. “Try to Sleep”
2. “You See Everything”
3. “Witches”
4. “Done”
5. “Especially Me”
6. “$20”
7. “Majesty/Magic”
8. “Nightingale”
9. “Nothing But Heart”
10. “Something’s Turning Over”

Scotland is typically hit-or-miss when it comes to producing good indie bands. The Fratellis’ debut was all kinds of fun, fulls of catchy riffs and charmingly vulgar lyrics, but their sophomore album was lacking. Franz Ferdinand is still a borderline shallow band that doesn’t offer much aside from their radio-friendly material. Glasvegas’ new album, EUPHORIC /// HEARTBREAK \\\, is solid, but doesn’t stand out as strong.

The songs cover a moderate amount of musical ground, never really taking any chances. But what the band did attempt was generally successful. The album, an angsty and longing form of fuzzy British rock mixed with ’80s pop, successfully details the lead singer’s struggles.

This is the band’s sophomore album, as well as their first release since tracking down lead singer James Allan in New York City after he’d gone missing in 2009.

Allan’s mysterious absence aside, EUPHORIC /// HEARTBREAK \\\ is completely underwhelming, but not for a lack of effort. The band tries its hand at a few different genres, primarily electronica and noise rock, but they all end up melding together in a 47 minute-long pity party with heavily distorted guitars, obnoxiously simple drum beats and vastly disappointing bass lines.

On EH, Glasvegas sounds haggard and lazy throughout its 11 tracks. The album slugs from song to song with such listless malaise that it’s a wonder it was even finished.

Perhaps what’s most frustrating about the album, though, is its wasted potential. In every whiny lyric, Allan’s talent for songwriting briefly rears its head, only to recess back into his depressed psyche.

The same can be said for the guitars, drums and bass. All are simple to such a degree that at times it’s hard to imagine why the band got signed in the first place. But peppered in every other song or so is a particular drum fill or guitar riff that triggers the thought, “Well maybe this isn’t so bad after all.” This, in effect, tricks the listener into listening more.

There is little to celebrate about EH, other than it existing. But why should the listener be happy for an album when the band itself sounds completely flat and uninspired throughout it? Not to say Glasvegas is arrogant in any way, but the band can’t reasonably expect an audience to take this album seriously when throughout the collection of songs the band itself doesn’t sound like it gives a shit.

Sophomore slumps are a common occurrence in music releases, and it’s entirely possible the band felt too much pressure after their debut was received so well. One can only hope for a stronger effort in the future, but the group is young and has time to get it together. Better luck next time.

Glasvegas – EUPHORIC /// HEARTBREAK \\\ Tracklist:

1. “Pain Pain, Never Again”
2. “The World Is Yours”
3. “You”
4. “Shine Like Stars”
5. “Whatever Hurts You Through The Night”
6. “Stronger Than Dirt (Homosexuality, Pt. 2)”
7. “Dream Dream Dreaming”
8. “I Feel Wrong (Homosexuality, Pt. 1)”
9. “Euphoria, Take My Hand”
10. “Lots Sometimes”
11. “Change”

In its eight-year existence Marshall, Mich.’s Small Brown Bike covered a lot of ground. Its debut album, Our Own Wars—released in 1999, was pummeling post-hardcore that never let-up.

The ensuing years saw members leave the band—guitarist/vocalist Travis Dopp left after Our Own Wars but rejoined after the band’s second album Dead Reckoning, coincidentally the same time drummer Dan Jaquint left—and the release of several LPs, EPs and even a split album with The Casket Lottery in 2002. Despite these changes the band’s core members, and brothers, vocalist/guitarist Mike Reed and bassist/vocalist Ben Reed continued to push their songwriting in new directions.

In 2003 Small Brown Bike released the Nail Yourself to the Ground EP and The River Bed LP within six months of each other. These releases maintained the energy of band’s previous output, but with a newfound willingness to explore. Unfortunately, Small Brown Bike broke-up less than a year later, leaving fans to wonder what could have been.

In 2009 Small Brown Bike trekked to Fest 8, and unleashed a new 7-inch, Composite, Volume One. This EP, as well as its follow-up Composite, Volume Two, were obvious signs that the band was still trying to get into the swing of playing and writing together after years away from the studio.

Now, eight years after the release of The River Bed, Small Brown Bike has unleashed Fell & Found. The album, recorded by J. Robbins, proves to be a continuation of the post-hardcore with indie flare that the band had come close to perfecting on its last full-length.

The songwriting on Fell & Found is subtle, seeing each member contribute without ever overstepping their bounds. Jaquint’s drumming is perhaps the best he’s ever recorded, and Ben Reed’s bass tone is massive, filling out and complementing the guitar work. Tracks such as “Rescue Mission” and “As We Go” boast riffs reminiscent of Dead Reckoning, only with a guitar tone that is infinitely cleaner than those found on the band’s early records.

While the band has multiple vocalists, Mike Reed has always taken lead. Fell & Found does a great job of displaying his improved vocals, and making a case for him being the band’s main vocalist. “Just Bones” sees Dopp taking the lead vocally and attempting to sing instead of his classic scream. Luckily, it is a huge success. Meanwhile, Ben Reed’s backups are less pronounced than on earlier works, but serve to add small flares to already strong choruses.

Closer “All of Us” burns slowly, integrating acoustic guitar at its onset before building to a crushing climax. When Mike Reed lets loose vocally, “For the last time/I say I’m sorry,” he displays that his attention-grabbing bellow hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s a closing track that completely sums up Fell & Found. At times it’s post-hardcore, other times it’s pure indie, but the one common thread is it never stops being engaging and emotional. Small Brown Bike is not only back, they’re stronger than ever.

Small Brown Bike – Fell & Found Tracklist:

1. “Onward & Overboard”
2. “Rescue Mission”
3. “Fell & Found (The Walk)”
4. “In Need of Everything”
5. “As We Go”
6. “A Minor Movement”
7. “Sleep River Sleep”
8. “On Repeat”
9. “You Always Knew Me”
10. “Just Bones”
11. “All Of Us”

Los Angeles breeds them weird. It helped transform Jim Morrison into the drunken monster he was before his utter demise; really there’s just an air about those hailing from the city of angels. The nonchalant attitude, trendsetting style, loose morals and—of course—a bastardization of music in some respects are what set the West Coast metropolis apart from other American cities. Whether it’s all a gimmick, Hunx and His Punx takes the L.A. attitude and stylizes it with a surf and doo-wop sound, producing its debut LP Too Young to Be in Love. Critically, some have labeled it punk, garage or noise. Some thus far have called it bubblegum, but in essence it’s a throwback to the early 60s and touts a real beach music appeal.

Fronted by part-time hairdresser Seth Bogart (Hunx) and backed vocally by a Bay Area axe wielder Shannon Shaw, Hunx and His Punx has a certain chemistry that takes this old-school beach sound to new heights. Aside from Hunx, the band is an all-girl cast. And as each song from their album purrs through the speakers, the ladies’ touch on it is by far the best part. Hunx’s voice is eerily similar to another shock-punker (Nobunny) and generally lacks any real creativity. His lyrical attitude is different, though, and has brought back the age-old love songs made famous back in the middle of last century.

Guitar work is paramount to their sound, and both guitar and bass are the prominent fixture on the track “Blow Me Away,” the standout from the album. Its dark, broody atmosphere takes a different route away from the surf sound that is blatant on the record.  “The Curse of Being Young” is another darker track focusing more on the ladies’ vocals and has that Ronnettes feel to it.

Hunx states that Ronnie Specter is his main influence musically, so it makes sense that this sound is what really gives the album character.  Shaw’s voice is stellar and in all points is a grand focus steering away from Hunx.

Other peppier tracks include “Bad Boy” and “Can We Get Together?” which capture happier times of chasing boys and living for the thrill of the hunt. “He’s Coming Back” is incredibly doo-wop. Accented with an organ and backed with the repetitive lyrics “Yeah, my boyfriend’s coming back,” it gives a sensation of standing over the jukebox waiting for your guy to come in through the front door of the soda shop. Most every track on the album is pleasurable to listen to and has that fun-in-the-sun appeal. “Keep Away From Johnny” has a similar aesthetic with that tight beach guitar and deep tom drums following behind Hunx and Shaw’s lyrical dueling.

Hunx and His Punx are the gay Ramones. Their doo-wop/surf sound is hot coming out of L.A. and they manage a following growing like waves crashing on the beaches of the West Coast. Their sound is pure, their act is a gimmick and their music is nothing like the punk made popular by the Sex Pistols and Dead Kennedys. All points considered, it’s impossible to call this a punk album with the sound it projects. It’s actually commendable to say Hunx and His Punx doesn’t want to be a chicken-shit conformist though. They have a punk mantra and a viral sound, but they’re too cute. Having a bubblegum label is fine so long as they don’t get bogged down by the punk moniker.

Hunx and His Punx – Too Young to Be in Love Tracklist:

1. “Lovers Lane”
2. “He’s Coming Back”
3. “Keep Away From Johnny”
4. “That’s The Curse Of Being Young”
5. “Too Young to Be in Love”
6. “If You’re Not Here”
7. “Bad Boy”
8. “Tonite Tonite”
9. “Can We Get Together”
10. “Blow Me Away”

The Pigeon Detectives want you to know they’ve grown up a bit. Or, at least they tried. Their sophomore record is the band’s attempt at selling themselves as a more defined and mature group who appreciate their success and want to please their acquired fan base. What translates into their music is a valiant effort, but it doesn’t seem to have executed the same intention they’d hoped for. The stream consists of 10 songs that could’ve been made into three tracks. This is surely the band’s most prominent weakness.

The album starts off with the second single “She Wants Me,” which is the record’s early proud moment. It is slick and neat in the way it is produced. The simplicity it possesses is fresh but also surfaced. It doesn’t go the distance, but it sure provides a somewhat catchy jam to start the record. What we hear next is heavy drums into a more rock type of tune as opposed to the indie pop-rock we just heard. “Lost” starts with a significant beat that leads into a tune which picks up momentum before it pauses and returns after the bridge. It’s an exciting effect for listeners who’ve just started listening to the record in order.

The tracks go from moderately striking to generally likeable as the ironic “What Can I Say” brings a taste of what we’ve already heard. When “Done In Secret” comes along, it becomes very obvious that the band repeats many of their lyrics as part of the chorus. This may be the band’s style, but it gets very old.

It almost makes listeners wonder whether The Pigeon Detectives lack substantial songwriting ability or if they just wanted to stick to their sort of character habits. Either way, there’s always a bit of shame in redundancy.

These patterns become exceptionally bothersome once “What You Gonna Do?” starts to repeat its title words over and over, alongside what sounds like the same backing guitar riffs as any other songs on the record. It was clever of the band to feature the vintage-sounding “I Don’t Know You” to close out the album with a smiley track because it might cause its listeners to forget how dense the record is. Though it’s disconnected from the rest of the set, its charisma and classicism are a pleasant encore to the flimsy new release.

If every song on Up, Guards And At ‘Em played each chorus only the standard amount of times and no lines were repeated, the record could be condensed to one third of its length. Even though the album only fills a 36 minute period of time, much of it gets accomplished in the first song before it becomes redundant. They’re lucky they have the Yorkshire charm to partly cover for their faults, because from the sounds of it, the boys have a little more growing up to do.

The Pigeon Detectives – Up, Guards And At ‘Em! Tracklist:

1. “She Wants Me”
2. “Lost”
3. “What Can I Say”
4. “Need to Know This”
5. “Done In Secret”
6. “What You Gonna Do?”
7. “Turn Out The Lights”
8. “Through The Door”
9. “Go At It Completely”
10. “I Don’t Know You”

As a rule, artistic expression should be treasured. Abouretum’s The Gathering stretches that ideal to its breaking point. The guitar wankery and glacial pace makes listening to it a chore only fit for a music critic. Actually paying for this tedious exercise in navel gazing isn’t recommended for anyone.

Abouretum’s sound is best described as classic stoner rock with an emphasis on mid to slow tempo guitar melodies and wispy, limp vocals. It’s all very psychedelic in the sense that the only way to enjoy is to get high out of your gourd, dress like a wood elf and frolic though a glen. Although there are few tracks, each song’s sluggish tempo and meandering instrumentation goes on and on. As a whole, the band is competent in their ability to play together, but they fail to produce anything interesting. Concepts such as dynamics, chorus, hooks and diverse rhythms are washed out in favor of a sludgy mix of inane verse, incessant soloing and fuzzy bass.

When songs begin to show promise they fall back into the band’s signature blandness. The track “When Delivery Comes” starts with a tribal drums slowly thrumming and ghostly strings playing a haunting melody. For a moment it seems like that melody might go on a little longer, but it’s pushed out of the way by singer Dave Heumann before it has a chance to breathe. His vocals return the song to the rote pattern of verse-solo-verse the band seems so fond of. Worse, the pace is agonizing and makes a three-minute song feel like six. This album’s problems rest squarely on Heumann’s songwriting.

His lyrics sound like they’re cribbed from The Grateful Dead’s trash can, and too often fall into the nonsensical. The album’s opener, “The White Bird,” contains just a few of the album’s groan-inducing lines: “… and among all, even as its true nature is hid/Here, in the gloaming and black night/Here, in the dawn and the golding bright.”

According to the band’s label, the inspiration for The Gathering came from Swiss Psychiatrist Carl Jung’s theories about the unconscious. Unfortunately, Heumann doesn’t seem to be trying to communicate Jung’s theories in a way listeners will connect with. His droning verses land like lecture notes punctuated by brain numbing guitar solos.

Creativity and art can easily turn into inscrutable self-indulgence if the artist lets it. Arbouretum falls into that trap by letting the album’s concept overshadow its sound. They put too much of their energy into exploring their favorite intellectual concepts instead of actually constructing music with its own peaks and valleys. Without those the journey is more akin to counting sheep than listening to a good song.

Arbouretum – The Gathering Tracklist:

1. “The White Bird”
2. “When Delivery Comes”
3. “Destroying to Save”
4. “Highwayman”
5. “Waxing Crescents”
6. “The Empty Shell”
7. “Song of the Nile”

Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears aren’t wrestling with the sophomore slump on their follow-up to Tell ‘Em What Your Name Is! If anything, they are improving. Singer and guitarist Joe Lewis sounds like the bastard child of James Brown and Muddy Waters, and damn if the grooves on this record don’t seem to smoke as it spins.The cuts alternate slow, simmering blues jams and electric big band rave-ups, all led by a living lightning bolt in the person of Lewis.

Lewis famously started with the fervor and passion of his live approach and saved the whole “learning to play thing” for the process. But he’s not an idiot savant, he’s a bluesman savant. For instance, “Mustang Ranch” starts off like a Blues Brothers opening number, but Lewis ventures into Wesley Willis territory as he details his efforts to get his “ham glazed” with only $20 dollars in hand. Similarly, “Ballad of Jimmy Tanks” is anything but a ballad, so perhaps the title was chosen ironically.

Throughout, “Black Joe” sounds like he’s about to jump back and kiss himself, and utters sounds that haven’t been heard since Eddie Murphy dipped his toe into James Brown’s hot tub in the ’80s. Phonetically, he sounds something like this: “Yeaych-oww!  Too hot!”

Guitarist Zach Ernst met Lewis when he booked him to play a show at his college and needed to assemble a backing band from there, and the sextet known as The Honeybears grew from there. In addition to Ernst, The Honeybears currently include Matt Strmiska, Ian Varley, Bill Stevenson, Jason Frey, Derek Phelps and Joe Woullard. After opening for Spoon on tour, Spoon drummer Jim Eno produced their debut and is back behind the board on this release

Scandalous kicks off with the James Browniest of all of these numbers; whereas Axl Rose may have welcomed his audience to the jungle, Black Joe Lewis wants to know what it’s like “Livin’ In The Jungle,” and clearly there’s a lot of blues and swing, and a rainforest of horns.

This release is “all killer, no filler” from back to front, but “You Been Lyin’” is a passionate highlight. This retort to Lewis’s “baby” comes on like a combo of Rare Earth and Grass Roots (think “No Time Left For You”) and features some soulful backing vocals from The Relatives, including some sinewy “shoo-dee-wops.”

“Booty City” distills the passion of The Rolling Stones’ “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” into a celebration of all things bootylicious delivered with the glee of Rare Earth’s “I Just Want To Celebrate” with a sax solo that borders on Clarence Clemons’ finger nimbleness. Lewis’s raspiness is at his most scat-tastic on the fiery “Black Snake,” whereas the ominous electric guitar line in “She’s So Scandalous” could be taken from a blaxploitation soundtrack like Shaft or Superfly—too bad it wasn’t around for Quentin Tarantino’s Jackie Brown.

The rootsiest moment here is the back-porch Icky Thump-like stomp of “Messin.’” It sounds like Robert Johnson messing around on his acoustic guitar, and has an outtake-like feel, but it’s definitely worthy of inclusion.

“Since I Met You Baby” simmers slowly like a fine pot of down-home jambalaya, and although “Jesus Took My Hand,” opens like a Cream-y Humble Pie, it is best paralleled to the marching electric blues of Zeppelin’s “When the Levee Breaks,” and provides a rousing conclusion to these 11 cuts.

Is Scandalous the most original, creative music ever committed to tape? No, but that’s not the point. Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears have again proven there’s every reason to revisit the tropes of electric blues and big-band boogie, and exercise can produce steamy, groovy and thoroughly entertaining results.

Black Joe Lewis & The Honeybears – Scandalous Tracklist:

1. “Livin’ In the Jungle”
2. “I’m Gonna Leave You”
3. “Booty City”
4. “Black Snake”
5. “She’s So Scandalous”
6. “Messin'”
7. “Mustang Ranch”
8. “You Been Lyin'”
9. “Ballad of Jimmy Tanks”
10. “Since I Met You Baby”
11. “Jesus Took My Hand”