As a way of celebrating the fact that Japanese post-rock band, Mono, have recently signed to Pelagic Records, the record label owned by The Ocean brainchild Robin Staps, the two groups released a split EP. The EP, entitled Transcendental, was released on October 23rd, and it features one extended track from each band.
Beach House is one of those bands that has a “brand.” Not in the consumerist sense, per se, but in an artistic one. In other words, if there’s one thing you can expect from Beach House, it’s good-old-friend reliability.
I’ll start by saying that I like Deerhunter. And while Monomania may have felt a bit overlong and undercooked, I’m reasonably convinced that their 2010 album Halcyon Digest is one of the best albums of the 2000s. I say this to give some context to lavish praise I’m about to heap onto their new album, Fading Frontier.
To start: Fading Frontier is better than Halcyon Digest, which is saying quite a lot. Fading Frontier a carefully crafted 36-minute masterpiece, filled with inventive songwriting, melodies that surprise you at every turn, and the best, most striking set of lyrics Bradford Cox has ever written.
Alex Giannascoli—Alex G, as he is known—has been particularly prolific this year, releasing Rules earlier this year, and then, satisfying the anticipation of his small but loyal fan base, Beach Music last Friday. Beach Music does far more than just satisfy, though: in typical Alex G fashion, it will take you on an introspective journey that is far from kitschy and saccharine, and yet remains surprisingly accessible.
In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that Wavves loves the letter “V”. If Wavves loves the letter “V” so much, why don’t they just marry it? They probably can’t marry it as I imagine it would be pretty difficult to marry a letter. Just think of all the paperwork and legal issues. However, they can still name their latest studio album after the letter.
The south is strange and everyone’s always known it. Maybe that’s why some of the best music has always bubbled up from it. People have their own ways of dealing with things, which isn’t exclusive to the south of course, but southern people don’t like change, as the cliché goes. As music generally does, southern music takes on a lot of the characteristics of the environment it’s created in. Think of the twang of old country, the sparse emptiness that can stand in for anything from countryside desolation to sheer heartbreak. Screwed and chopped rap, pitched to the point where every lazy bass rattle thumps with its own measured certainty. The unabashed euphoria of D4L, of New Orleans bounce music, of Soulja Boy and the great tradition of the barbecue. There’s a reason NYC rappers shunned melody in rap for so long while Future and Young Thug practically warbled their way into other dimensions. The south is aware of its strangeness, and it doesn’t make amends of concessions for it.
Every semester on the WRVU DJ application we are asked, “What’s your favorite album that no one knows about?” For the last four semesters I have declared that The Samuel Jackson Five’s Easily Misunderstood is, in fact, that album. I realize that there are probably some of you who have heard it, but I hope after reading this that some of you will scroll down to the embedded Spotify link and experience the post-rock mastery.
If you haven’t heard of Grace Potter, you must be living under a rock. This Vermont native has been the frontwoman of Grace Potter and the Nocturnals since 2002. Together they’ve released four successful studio albums, most recently The Lion The Beast The Beat (2012). Potter is particularly praised for her powerhouse vocals and high-energy performances (which I experienced myself two summers ago – it was a blast).
Grace Potter is also recognized for her diverse solo projects. Disney fans may know her from “Something That I Want”, the song from the closing credits of Tangled. She has collaborated with big name country singers such as Kenny Chesney, rock legends like The Rolling Stones and Grammy award-winning producer T Bone Burnett. In addition to singing, Potter plays guitar, piano, keyboards, organ and the tambourine. Thirteen years in the music business and this multi-instrumentalist shows no signs of slowing down.
*Check out this video of “Empty Heart” (posted just last August)
In a twitter blur, the world became aware of an approaching collaborative album between Future and Drake, two rappers who have been collectively running this year. Now, it’s important to note the considerable difference in each rapper’s dominance this year. Future has put in a decidedly inhuman season of being literally the best rapper today whose not named Jeffrey Williams. Seriously if you don’t know by now, you need to listen to the canon (56 Nights, DS2, Beast Mode, Monster). Drake has also been doing well in his own lane, releasing an album (IYRTITL), questionably silencing ghostwriter allegations, and a few songs and remixes here and there. I’m going to come clean though, I haven’t paid much attention to Drake of late, simply because Future and Young Thug exist. But, regardless, Drake, well he’s out here.
Just released earlier this month on Chicago-based indie stalwart Kranky, The Original Faces by the three-piece (4-piece?) Helen has quietly and self-assuredly proven itself on multiple listens as a high quality full-length relatively out of nowhere. Attention to the band was primarily due to its inclusion of Liz Harris in the roster, whose folk project Grouper has attracted considerable critical acclaim and admiration for its sparse intimacy and thrilling experimentation. This was certainly the case for me; when I heard that she had a “pop” band putting out an album I was immediately all in.
Fall is almost here and we have nearly been in school for a month. As we come to terms with all this change, the staff writers here at WRVU have decided to give one last ode to the albums we were jamming to on those bygone summer nights. In case you missed it, here are some albums we had our turn to enjoy and would now like to share with you.
Lady Lamb, also known by the name Lady Lamb the Beekeeper, is a singer-songwriter from Maine who has been hard at work for several years as an independent artist. Her first record on major label Mom + Pop Music is a testament to her genuine songwriting talent. Mom + Pop, the label that backs acts such as Wavves, Sleigh Bells, and Fidlar, is no stranger to scuzzy, fuzz-pedal-driven punk rock. This production trademark rings through much of the music, but the production brilliantly focuses on the warm, pure voice of Lady Lamb.
On March 31st, Godspeed You! Black Emperor finally released their much-awaited followup to 2012’s ‘Allelujah! Don’t Bend! Ascend!, and, after having a few weeks to digest the band’s first album of completely new material since their reforming in 2010, I’ve made up my mind about Asunder, Sweet and Other Distress: it is sweet indeed.
This is rap gone Technicolor, if you’re not a fan of Autotune (maybe you’re Jay-Z) you may want to look the other way. Chicago bop duo Lil Trav and Lil Ceno have another stack of elastic high-energy tracks that paint rap in a melodic bloom of colorful effects anchored by bouncy beats.
Coming off some infectious tracks, (“Remy Rick”, “Fiesta”, “Young Heavy”, and “Round N Round”) Sicko Mobb carry on in the latest progression of Autotuned rap-singing melodic rap. Their weird, catchy sound is reminiscent of the hazed out hedonism anthems of Future and pretty boy ego trips of Soulja Boy, though while Future has been chasing around demons and inverting the melody of Autotune to soundtrack his own self-torturing abandonment, Sicko Mobb are flourishing in the elasticity of rap-singing.
After months of anticipation, Death Grips’ second half of their final two-part album, The Powers that B, is finally available to the public. Entitled Jenny Death, this album was uploaded to YouTube months after the first half of the album, N***** on the Moon, was released for free (reviewed here by WRVU DJ Brett Tregoning). After their break-up announcement via napkin last summer, fans have been on edge to listen to what could potentially be the final installment in their discography. As always with the painstakingly unpredictable group, things have not always been very transparent with the band. However, the band always delivers on their album promises, and this time the wait was worth it.
Sufjan Stevens has never been afraid to bear his heart to an audience. Even at his most thematic and theatrical–2005’s masterpiece Illinois–he wasn’t shy about including a line like “I cried myself to sleep last night” as the centerpiece of a song before asking the listener to question “are you writing from the heart?” But while Illinois buried its confessional nature amidst richly arranged baroque pop playgrounds, Carrie & Lowell is a thoroughly intimate affair; all you’ll find here are fluttering guitars, double-tracked vocals delivered with a whisper, and haunting synthesizer elegies bookending the album’s brisk tracks. It is an album that is simple and anguished to its very core.
Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly is a confrontational affair, and the initial response from the general public reflected that. As one of the most commercially successful and critically lauded rappers of the 21st century, looking to follow up 2012’s classic-in-its-own-right Good Kid M.A.A.D City, Kendrick Lamar bravely ensured that To Pimp a Butterfly was too dense to take in with just a listen or two. Infinite tweets, reviews, and “thinkpieces” have attempted to pick this piece of art to the bone, but not a single one will do this labyrinth of cultural and personal meditation justice.
If you were to travel back in time to the year 1968 and cryogenically freeze the guys of The Band, only to wake them up in the year 2015, you’d probably find them hanging out with the members of Houndmouth. Both groups are harmony heavy, folk-funk powerhouses. While The Band spent a whole bunch of years touring with legends like Bob Dylan, and recording a massive repertoire of legendary jams, Houndmouth is just now coming up out of Indiana with their second album, Little Neon Limelight, dropping on Rough Trade earlier this week.
In retrospect, Twin Shadow/George Lewis Jr. always belonged on a major label, though this wasn’t obvious at the time of his 2010 new-wave-revival debut, Forget. On Forget, retro guitars and a lo-fi drum machine kept Twin Shadow grounded in New Order’s more restrained brand of new wave instead of something flashier. Also like a New Order single, nearly every song on Forget reached for lasting vocal melodies. Songs like “At My Heels” and “Slow” were slick ‘80s style exercises in part, but the striking vocalist and memorable choruses left the lasting impression. Twin Shadow’s next album Confess (2012) honed in on these features and jettisoned potential distractions. While some missed the relative subtlety of Forget, this kind of pop music can benefit from directness. The intoxicating “This isn’t loooooove” on “Run My Heart”, “Five Seconds” with its “can’t get to your heart…”, “Golden Light”: Confess blew relationship feelings into massive proportion. If Forget is the Breakfast Club kids developing meaningful ‘80s connections, Confess is John Cusack in your yard with a boombox.
In the first seven years of the new millennium, Modest Mouse released their most critically acclaimed album The Moon and Antarctica (2000), their most popular song “Float On” (2004), and an album that reached #1 on the Billboard 200, We Were Dead Before the Ship Even Sank (2007). In the seven years since that impressive run, the band has been relatively silent, with only sporadic festival appearances, a b-side EP, and promises of collaborations with Outkast’s Big Boi to remind us Modest Mouse was still a thing. After years of tantalizing rumors and false alarms, Modest Mouse is back for real with Strangers to Ourselves.
Early-career mixtapes are often exciting event releases with production quality indistinguishable from a studio album. Think Acid Rap, The Weeknd’s remarkable 2011 mixtape trilogy, or Drake’s own So Far Gone. Once the major label contract is signed, however, “mixtape” doesn’t really connote high-quality, important work. One can argue mixtapes are rawer versions of more calibrated studio releases, but it’s hard to shake the nagging thought that mixtape tracks weren’t good enough to hold over for the album. Often when it comes to mixtapes, only the most dedicated fans need apply. So what’s this mean for If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late?
