Owls - Two

Owls

Two

Polyvinyl Records

March 25, 2013

4.9

Owls (not to be mistaken with Owl, from LA) was first formed during 2001 in Chicago out of a former project named Cap'n Jazz. Tim Kinsella, Mike Kinsella, Victor Villarreal, and Sam Zurick promptly released one album and broke up after a year to pursue other music. They only just now reformed, coinciding with the return of Zurick to Chicago, to capitalize on the incredibly deep and abiding love people had for Owls, after their self-titled debut in 2001. Apparently unsatisfied with the high level of thought involved in releasing a self-titled album, they decided to name this attempt Two.

Don't bother remembering any of this, unless you're boning up for a trivia night, because this album isn't going to be remembered. While the somewhat breathless press release goes to GREAT LENGTHS to convey just how many artistic disputes and the great amount drama (18 months! CANCELLED PRACTICES! COLLABORATING CIVILLY... wait) the band somehow overcame in the process of writing and recording Two, the actual delivered product is lacking emotional core and completely fails to deliver anything memorable (except the remarkably under-delivered and painfully compressed line "Oh No, Don't smash the bag of pretzels". Because that is funny). Don't expect this reunion to last long -- reading between the lines of the album announcement, it's pretty clear these guys can't stand each other.

Okay, so now we're reviewing Two, from Owls. Their second album in thirteen years, this is going to be a great band for hipsters. Perfectly obscure, with entirely forgettable music and incomprehensible lyrics guarantees that nobody else will ever have heard of them in a year's time. There are promising elements here -- some good hooks, some interesting melodies, and even the occasional meaningful, funny, or interesting lyric. Unfortunately, Owls never manages to combine those at any point -- if the lyrics are interesting, the song will have wandered off into a bland musical prairie. By the time the music finds itself again, the lyrics are back to pretzels.

The album starts off with promise, which is almost immediately taken out back of the shed and shot. An interesting intro proves to simply be the entirety of the track. The cover pretty much establishes the trend of the rest of the album -- tiny, tasty bits that are left uncooked.

Owls sound will be familiar to anybody who listened to alternative/emo/whatthehellever from the early-mid 90s to the early-mid 2000s. Likely because their other album came out right around then. These tracks could be cleaned up and sit comfortably next to the forgettable tracks on a Stroke 9 album, or the Urge, or any number of other bands of the day.

Lyrically, Two doesn't have much consistency. Singer Kinsella (not to be confused with his brother, Not Singer Kinsella) (aka Tim) often seems unaware of the song he's singing along to, happily smashing together syllables and mangling pace to "fit" long phrases to the music. This is perhaps most apparent on "Oh No, Don't...", which also illustrates Kisella's unwillingness to convey emotion in his singing. The flat delivery saps any emotional impact the music and lyrics would otherwise demand.

The listening experience is vastly improved by imaginging that this is in fact Derek Zoolander's Band for Kids Who Don't Music Good and Want to do Other Stuff Good Too. At least that way the pointless and grasping lyrics acquire a certain poignancy. Owls urgently wants you to feel the noise, but the images evoked throughout Two are laughably pointless and uninspired. Kinsella's flat delivery and seeming need to cram in extra syllables squeezes out what little emotion may have been found, leaving nothing behind but a mental image of Blue Steel... or perhaps MAGNUM.

Beck - Morning Phase

Beck

Morning Phase

Capital

Release Date: February 25, 2014

Rating 7.2

The cover of Beck’s new album, Morning Phase, should tell you everything you need to know: this is “Sea Change 2: Sea Change Harder”. A headshot of Beck with colors smeared over and across it, the cover deliberately evokes his 2002 album, whether as warning or enticement is up to you. Every time I listen to this new effort I get a sad, and I miss the energetic, rebellious Beck that produces infectious, kicking hits like “Black Tambourine” or “Sexx Laws”. Introspective, thoughtful Beck makes me mourn the puckish humor and impish energy he can bring to an album or performance, and the songs frequently fade into the background even as I’m trying to engage with them.

“Sea Change 2: Sea Change Boogaloo” sees Beck reunited with many of the same musicians that joined him on the first “Sea Change”, and that through-line is clear in tracks such as “Morning”, which really functions as more of a lullaby than a wake-up anthem. “Phase” is another such song, with long notes, stretched out sounds, and an overall gentle feel to the to the tracks that sounds like my phone’s “gentle-wake” alarm setting.  Perhaps the most direct connection to “Sea Change” comes on “Say Goodbye”, as Beck’s vocals directly hark back to his earlier work.

“Sea Change 2: The Squeakquel” will most likely bask in critical acclaim, and anybody who enjoyed “Sea Change” will find a lot to love on this album (though they may find it at times indistinguishable), but if you’re looking for a new “Hell Yes”, “Mixed Bizness”, or “Where It’s At”, you’ll leave disappointed.  Though the album doesn’t have much of anything new to offer, it is solidly constructed. The gentle, mellow emotional core does tie it together, and the twangy guitar of tracks such as “Blue Moon” and “Country Down” follows the recent trends of country-rock crossover hits. While “Sea Change: Part Deux” won’t blast your socks off, if you’re looking for a smooth listening experience there's nothing to complain about.

Artist: Standard Fare

Album: Out Of Sight, Out Of Town

Label: Melodic

Release Date: 12.12.2011

Rating: 7.5

Somewhere between The Sugarcubes, the fictional Sex Bob-ombs, and The strokes lies a band called Standard Fare. They are a quirky, upbeat, and highly catchy pop trio of indie rockers hailing from Sheffield, England, Formed in 2005 and made up of Emma Kupa, Danny How, and Andy Beswick, they adopted their rather banal name fram a sign Kupa saw on a bus in Newcastle. The group found themselves in high acclaim with the success of their 2010 debut, The Noyelle Beat.

The second installment in the band's legacy of bright, poppy, and dance-worthy tracks, Out Of Sight, Out Of Town, is full of the band's signature he-said/she-said, boy/girl vocals and a tight guitar/bass/drums sound that comes, almost exclusively, with rock trios.

However, Out Of Sight, Out Of Town does go a bit deeper than previous Standard Fare material with maturing lyrical content and the addition of a trumpet player and violinist on many tracks. "Darth Vader" and "Early That Night" stick out in particular as meter sticks for the bands maturity as they slow the action down and transmit soft, reflective moments of romantic frustrations and unfaithfulness.

Stand out tracks on the album are "Dead Future", "Call Me Up", "Older Women", and "Half Sister". Across the songs, guitars are bright and light-hearted without being gutless. The 'his and hers' vocal exchanges are reminiscent of John Doe and Exene Cervenka, yet uncannily similiar to Edie Brickell & The New Bohemians when Kupa sings solo.

Now, does Standard Fare bust down the walls of indie rock boundaries as we know it with this release? Heck, no! They do one thing few bands do, they know who they are and they maximize what they do well better than an In 'N' Out Burger. That quirky, jaded, lovelorn bebop that is so heighly contagious and enjoyable is Dtandard Fare's Double Double Cheeseburger and the album delivers it with both drive-thru windows, baby!

So, let melancholy go for an hour, drop the anarchism anthems and folktronica experimental projects for a moment and tune into this smile-worthy, indie bop. Take a road trip and crank phrases like "ba-ba-ba-ba-bite my tongue" as you leave gridlock, fax machines, and time clocks behind.

Album Review: Terry Malts

Artist: Terry Malts

Album: Killing Time

Label: Slumberland Records

Release Date: 2.21.12

Rating: 4.2

After listening to the album for the full 33 minutes and 30 seconds a few times, I wholly teleported into the stark studio (or garage?) in which the album was likely recorded. Between the recoding dropping the sonic highs and lows and Phil Benson's monotone singing, it frames the album perfectly: middling, not impressive, not terrible. It is what you expect from power pop: speed playing, catchy lyrics, distorted guitar, and simple drumming. But none of these elements combined to create stand out moments.

In some songs, their roots show through. "No Good For You" sounds like a beach song. Interestingly, it's "I'm Neurotic" that samples a transmogrified clip of the Beach Boys' "California Girls". "Where Is The Weekend" is the standard ode to hating your job and being a weekend warrior. This was the only song that resonated, making me want to jump up and down screaming that I like weekends too. But it also felt like preaching to the choir.

That's not to say it's the worst album of the year; far from it. But it didn't hold me any longer than its half an hour run time.

St. Vincent

St. Vincent

Strange Mercy

4AD Records

Release Date: 09.13.11

Rating: 8.0

Annie Clark, better known under her moniker of St. Vincent, released her third full length album this September. Packed with her unorthodox and unique brand of vibrant indie rock, cabaret jazz and electro-fused ballads, the album is aptly named Strange Mercy.

Clark is primarily a guitarist. An aggressive guitarist. A bold, vicious guitarist, and her chunky distortion-filled guitar arrangements are the engines that drive the songs on Strange Mercy. Sprinkled throughout are riveting feedback inputs, unexpected electro spikes and surgically placed tonal noise. It's like a guitar distortion sundae with LED lights on top and even as such a sonic delicacy, the album stay accessible.

Behind each gritty guitar riff are Clark's signature eeirie vocals. Coded, crypic lyrics come as poetic paraphrases. The song "Surgeon" invites "Best, fine surgeon/ Come cut me open." This serves as a nod to Marilyn Monroe--the line was found in her journal. Other songs like "Chloe in the Afternoon" allude to fighting with the crutch of promiscuity, while the title track explore the wonderment of unexpected grace.

A drawback to this album is the apparent lack of any real standout tracks. Most songs sound as co-stars to an absent shining star. As such a lead character is missing, I have to say on the first spin, the album didn't grab me.

The inexplicable pull for Strange Mercy is the depth and weight of what is being conveyed and the novelty of musical combinations that Clark is attempting. These aren't pop songs, they are pages from Clark's diary that highlight emotions of frustration, lost innocent and atonement that all of us go through on some level. The electro-noise infustions make this new music, not a recycle of something we continue to hear as radio fodder.

Kate Bush - 50 Words for Snow

Kate Bush
50 Words for Snow
Anti/Epitaph
Released 11.21.11

8.8



Kate Bush's album arrives like the first true gift of winter--deep and complex enough to last us through the chilly cold season. The first listen of "50 Words for Snow" turned into a three hour marathon, with each song growing and forming more nuances at every listen. By the time spring rolls around, we'll have these songs imprinted on our hearts.

These songs are deceptively simple, "Among Angels" is just Bush and a lonely piano, but they are are meaty in flavor and tone. Her vocals are haunting and composed, she never screams, but there is a perfect tension that reigns across the tracks. The tracks are lengthy (each clocking over six minutes), and this gives Bush the time to fully explore and express her visions.

Said visions indeed include snow, but also about the wildness of the primal. "Wild Man" brings to mind a man adept at surviving among the animals in the frigid wilderness. Such a man is risky to love and even more treacherous to be with. "Snowed in at Wheeler Street" is a duet of the contained frenzy of two lovers that both need each other and burn each other out. Their cries of "I don't want to lose you again" are heartbreaking and doomed.

This is the kind of album early Tori Amos fans would kill to hear; a rich tapestry of sound giving way to a complex heart. "50 Words for Snow" speaks to the quiet and empty places in life, gently shining a dim light in dark corners as not to scare the beasts that live there.

The Black Kids--Partie Traumatic

If Franz Ferdinand had decided not to suck, “Partie Traumatic” would be a superior follow up to their self-titled debut. But as any skinny jeaned bitch ass hipster will tell you, after a band is discovered they aren’t worth a hill of beans. Which is great for us and bad for the hipsters, as the full length from The Black Kids is a total balls out good time. And to be blunt, they still aren't rocking MTV or doing heavily promoted tours. Instead they are hard working indie kids swimming in 2008’s large pool of fun electro-rock-sing-a-long genre, the combination of boy/girl vocals reminds most immediately of Los Campasinos, and maybe X if they had grown up on Ritalin instead of coke. From the dancey opener “Hit the Heartbrakes” to the pseudo-single, “I’m not going to teach your boyfriend how to dance” to the shout to Chromeo shouting out the 80s in general, there is an unabashed feel good vibe that is not only hard to shake, but keeps people bobbing along after the album ends. Totally lame if you are choking on your H&M scarf while jerking off and listening to Mozart….but pretty radical for those of us that don’t know or care or worship yesteryear’s fashion flagship.

Portishead--Third

We waited for years, roughly a decade for Portishead’s ‘new’ album that has been shrouded in rumors of release dates and content for almost just as long. But finally (finally!) Third arrived and the first time it played I couldn’t help but hold my breath with excitement and nervousness. The opening French chatter of ‘Silence’ with the molasses slow build up to Beth’s vocal almost made the tension worse: it can’t be that good! Sweet mother of god! As the album glided along, it was clear that Portishead had accomplished more than just a comeback, they are going to be one of those magical mixes of personality, style and vision that will make all of the albums live anew each generation.

The album is mostly delicious—“Small” has a lonely, lost in space vibe that is hard to shake, even when the organ and string enter into the mix; “Plastic” has the classic feeling that made trip-hop into one of the emo of electronic music. Surprisingly, the first single, “Machine Gun” sounds too formulaic and trips on it’s own annoying and shallow drum loop. It’s a few minor missteps like “Machine Gun” and the major annoying and awful turd “Deep Water” that keep Third from being their best yet. And even though most of the tracks harken back to a time when electronic music wasn’t just pop-electro, there is a permeating feeling that this album belongs in 2003—it’s already retro. If you listened to Dummy and Portishead through headphones in the dark, you’ll likely do some heavy reminiscing about that period in your life, Third takes you right back. It might be next in line, but it isn’t necessarily progress. Closer “Threads” shows Portishead as the voice of sorrow we’ve all come to know and love despite attempts at pharmaceutical happiness, growing up and moving on. But really, what’s wrong with taking a walk down memory lane to a new soundtrack?

MGMT--Oracular Spectacular

It was a CD I’d walked by many times, skipping over it from the prejudgement of a dude in a man scarf and the other in face paint. But MGMT’s album is very nearly the opposite of the assumed self-indulgent hipness. The opening track “Time to Pretend” sets the mood of wanting to reach for the cocaine and models but understanding the good life is never all 8-balls and legs. Oracular is the happiest possible love child of the Klaxons and Animal Collective: the near perfect “Kids” is the song to yearn for summer to with it’s playground beat and understated lyrics. Until the left coast gloom lifts, there’s the hopeful reprieve of the song: “show yourself, take only what you need from it.” Overall, Proof you can overlook exactly what you need if you’re not open to it.

Beach House--Devotion

The cover art of Beach House's "Devotion" sets the mood. Bandmates Alex Scally and Victoria Legrand sit across a table from each other, cake and candlelight between them. Possibly, they're even in a beach house. The scene is warm and inviting, yet at the same time dark and spooky – just like the 11 tracks to follow.The sophomore effort from the Baltimore duo is a much fuller, lush -and more consistent - effort than their self-titled debut. So consistent and endearing that it should be listened to as a whole.Opener "Wedding Bell" drops you in an ethereal space of love and longing. "Oh, but your wish is my command," Legrand reassures. But later, doubt creeps in. "Oh, is your heart still mine to save?" An opportunity or a burden? At the very least, she's second-guessing.

Of course, thoughts of devotion permeate the album.

"I will wait for you there, creeping silently" ("Turtle Island"), "I'd like to be someone you could finally learn to love again" ("Heart Of Chambers"), "Your picture is still on my wall" ("Some Things Last A Long Time"), "How I know you will return so I won't be sad" ("D.A.R.L.I.N.G.").Legrand's voice is enchanting and commanding. Like hearing the Sirens of Greek mythology, it's hard to steer your ship away.

Thao-- We Brave Bee Stings And All

Your soundtrack for the summer actually arrived in the dead of winter. Thao's "We Brave Bee Stings And All" indeed will soothe you, like a lick of ice cream.

The highlight is "Bag Of Hammers," a song set to please hipsters and hippies alike. The track opens with a breezy guitar riff and a relationship gone awry: "The trick is you do not get on that interstate bus / The catch is you stay and see what becomes of us." Then a pause, and an explosion: "Shake, shake, shake, shake the frame of this house / Distress the wood, make it shout." If your not shuffling your feet at this point, then you might as well have skipped town on that bus.

Most of "Bee Stings" follows suit, with a light, happy fare
constructed to sugarcoat darker themes.

Beneath the upbeat pace and tickling banjo of "Swimming Pools" lies a lesson: "We don't dive, we cannonball / And we splash our eyes full of chemicals / Just so there's none left for little girls."

"Did he hurt you in a new way?" Thao asks in "Fear And Convenience."

Although the second half of "Bee Stings" can't stack up to the
momentum built early - the songs are by no means bad; they're just not as thoroughly enjoyable - Thao (full name: Thao Nguyen), backed by the Get Down Stay Down, shows great promise while having great fun.

Neon Neon--- Stainless Style

Neon Neon

Stainless Style

Here’s the obvious line: omg they are just like the Gorillaz!! But in all reality, Neon Neon (side project of Gruff Rhys and Boom Bip) are most similar to the Gorillaz in that their albums fluctuate in style and genre from minute to minute. Unlike the Gorilliaz though, they fall short in pulling the whole thing off. The album struggles with the polarity between Rhys’ 80s kitsch pop and Boom Bip’s frenetic hip hop. But don’t be scared-what happens is there are two clearly different strong threads both shine independently and only crumble when played as one album. (But who listens to a whole album straight though? It’s not the 80s kids. It just sounds like it.) Just like Chromeo’s premium blend of cheese, Rhys’ glam retro end even sends the 80s its’ love with song titles like “Michael Douglas” and “I Told Her on Alderaan.” (Take that, Leia!) Boom Bip’s highlight is “Luxury Pool,” with Fatlip guesting on the mic. Nothing on here reinvents the wheel, but when not smashed together, each side has some track worthy of your next dance party.