Manchester Orchestra — I’m Like a Virgin Losing a Child

Produced and mixed by Dan Hannon

Recorded at Tree Sound and Vintage Song Studios

Mastered by Glenn Schick

I’m Like a Virgin Losing a Child, the first full-length CD from Manchester Orchestra, is, in one word, brilliant. Although most of the group members are barely into their twenties, and some not even there yet, this CD sounds like it was crafted by a polished and mature band. There isn’t a single song on the CD that doesn’t sound as if it were painstakingly constructed from start to finish. The ethereal and emotionally haunting track “Where Have You Been?” could have easily been on the soundtrack to every weepy-eyed chick flick released this year. And the opening track, “Wolves at Night,” is almost too overwhelming to believe that it consists of just drums, guitars, bass, keyboards and percussion.

However, that’s what the whole CD is about: being larger than life. I’m Like a Virgin Losing a Child is not a just a listening experience, it’s a mood. It’s the mental state of a 20 year old speaking well beyond his age. When Andy Hull croons, “A disaster is a disaster no matter what Christian language you drag it through,” you have to wonder how this kid got to be so damn right and why the hell he is so serious. It’s everything underground indie rock should be: insightful lyrics about love, hope, pain and guilt, heart-wrenching post-punk guitar rhythms, random atmospheric dissonance, and driving keyboard harmonies and drums energetic enough to either make you jump with excitement or sway, mesmerized to the beat. It’s difficult even to say where the band gets its creative inspiration from; perhaps they’ve just been influenced by years of good music and hard living. The closest sounding comparison, at least in terms of vocals, might be Placebo. Musically, Manchester Orchestra is like no other band, but fans of Neutral Milk Hotel or Of Montreal should be pleased. These comparisons are a credit to Hull’s consistency; since its inception, the band has been through at least 20 members in the past two years. I’m Like a Virgin Losing a Child is already making quite an impression outside the Atlanta indie scene, as the band will be touring nationally with Brand New starting March 15. (Favorite Gentleman)

www.themanchesterorchestra.com

-Charley Lee

Deerhunter — Cryptograms

Recorded by Chris Bishop

Mixed by Nicolas Vernhes

Mastered by Jennifer Munson

As tapes loop and sonic textures bubble up, Atlanta’s Deerhunter makes its reemergence from the two-year recording process for Cryptograms, the band’s second album and first for Chicago’s Kranky Records. Despite less-than-ordinary recording circumstances that pushed the band to the brink of financial, physical and emotional exhaustion, the end product is a dualistic presentation of the agonizing efforts by vocalist and tape scrambler Bradford Cox, guitarist Colin Mee, bassist Josh Fauver, drummer Moses Archuleta and guitarist Lockett Pundt. The fact that these guys are still even together as a band is a testament to the foresight and struggle put into the two recording sessions.

The album opens with seven tracks that seem to drift in search of a focal point. The patterns of the songs slowly mutate from sonic layers and tape samples to bounding rhythms and pulsating bass lines that drive tracks like “Cryptograms,” “Lakes Somerset” and “Octet.” The intermittent tracks lend shapeless, pulsating intermissions that engulf the listener before sending him or her back to the more pop-centered clamors. All of these first songs represent harbingers of what was to come out of the second recording session.

As the tape-reel end flaps at the end of “Red Ink,” Bradford Cox utters the phrase “So I woke up” and as this happens, the band, as a whole, seems to come to realize “the sound” that is to symbolize their boundless present and promising future. “Spring Hall Convert” is the epitome of what is great about this band: floating vocals, shimmering guitar sweeps, a steadily burning rhythm section and the imagination of a child. Likewise, “Strange Lights,” “Hazel St.” and “Heatherwood” round out this second set that touches on influences of The Jesus and Mary Chain and early Stereolab. The lyrics on the latter half delve into the realms of youth, infirmity and missed connections. The set constantly churns and broods and whets the appetite for what is to come from Deerhunter, both live and on record. (Kranky)

www.myspace.com/deerhunter

-Jason James

Juju B Solomon — Juju B Solomon

Recorded, mixed and mastered by John Kerry and Joon Kim at New Street in Decatur, GA

From its woozy, weary, three-chord opener to the petulant pornography of its final moments, this debut is startling. It is a magical conflation of ugliness and grace, as sweet as it is potty-mouthed. This is an utterly lonesome record, and it is a record in the old sense: the memoir of events, in two sides. The first chronicles the singer’s horny isolation in India. The second follows him home, and if the bike punks, polygamists, deviant farm boys and meth heads found there are a motley congregation, they are also an essentially American one.

Solomon’s voice is soft, cracking and unaffected. His songs are slow, simple and adroitly finger-picked on acoustic guitar. They are garnished by weird creaking and blipping samples from a miniature Casio SK-60 stolen from Rick James’ young son (it’s true, don’t ask). Those who enjoy Will Oldham’s bleak ruminations on sexual congress with a mountain, Sufjan Stevens’ tender dedication to place or the tragicomedy of Jeffery Lewis’ intimate, lo-fi meanderings will surely be at home with this record.

This is writer’s music, and Solomon’s stark, malignant tongue has all the restraint admired in novelists, a restraint that roils to breaking in the small details. When it does break, it is in crass and unforgiving provocation. Imagine reading Bronte and turning the page to find a filthy word printed in the middle of it, alone.

These spare, intelligent songs are woven with as much tenderness as abasement, from the hair of real people, in actual places. Their softness and alienation are driven beyond themselves by their absurdity, by the sense of hilarious doom that compels the singer to tell us “I lost the rubber up inside her” before ruminating with perfect Zen aplomb upon the nature of desire. By the time all the elements have been evinced — India, sexual catastrophe, depression, “a stray dog in a bright red dress” — it is impossible to only listen. We must listen, steeled against the reversals waiting at every bar to knock the bottom out of our experience. (Self-released)

www.myspace.com/jujubsolomon

-Alan Bajandas

The Avett Brothers — The Gleam

Produced by Scott and Seth Avett

Recorded and engineered by Doug Williams at Electromagnetic Radiation Records

Mastered by Brent Lambert at The Kitchen

Unfold the sinister red CD case and you’ll find a black and white photo of the bearded and hirsute Avett Brothers sitting solemnly in a rather cold and non-descript room. Despite the band name and packaging, prejudicial notions of outlaws armed with shotguns and banjos are quickly extinguished when The Gleam reveals itself to be sparse, neo-country delivered from a cerebral and vulnerable perspective. The Brothers are just as scared and uncertain as the rest of us. They just look better on a Wanted poster than most.

Truth told, when the EP opens with “Sanguine,” its beauty isn’t immediately evident. After a “One, two, three,” countdown and a six string gets the campfire treatment, listeners may continue about their business of cleaning the kitchen or daydreaming at the day job and let the music become wallpaper. Then there’s a bit of Appalachian picking, warm vocal harmonies and, suddenly, that curious lyric that captures one’s attention (or becomes part of that aforementioned daydream), “I will keep my wits about myself / Disregard directions sent from hell.” In that instant, The Avett Brothers separate themselves from roughly three-quarters of the singer/songwriter types that have a much smaller fraction of things to say that are worth saying.

Credit The Brothers for penning the finest, most honest drinking song since that Buffet tune about screwing. The chorus of “When I Drink” becomes the Carolina equivalent of an Irish drinking song that may or may not be sung by lushes at pubs throughout Dublin (or bars in Chapel Hill). Anyone that has sworn last night’s bender was the last, only to break that promise the next weekend (or semi-special occasion) will fall for this ditty.

The liner notes don’t reveal whether it’s Seth or Scott’s bleating voice telling the darkish story of second-hand goods in “Yard Sale,” but the sparse banjo and toy-ish xylophone complement the emotions ideally. Evidently the six acoustic gems captured on The Gleam represent a bit of a departure from The Brothers’ otherwise surly musical tendencies. Considering how well they captured Yin, one imagines their Yang is worth checking out too. (Ramseur Records)

www.theavettbrothers.com

-David Eduardo

David Karsten Daniels — Sharp Teeth

Produced by Alex Lazara

Recorded by Alex Lazara and DKD

Mixed and mastered by Alex Lazara

Additional engineering by Perry Wright and Cary Daniels

It could be Neutral Milk Hotel with prettier instrumentation or the Brian Jonestown Massacre without the self-importance. And yet David Karsten Daniels’ fourth album, Sharp Teeth, is an entirely new kind of animal, one whose energy expands and contracts to the beat of Daniels’ imagination. Inhale: acoustic simplicity. Exhale: pulsing strata of strings, horns and rich choral power. His strength is in his diversity of sound and ability to surprise, with a grandiosity of vision and execution that never strays into turgidity. Instead, he maintains equilibrium by offering complex arrangements played with drowsy grace or minimalist folk songs performed with ardent intensity.

It’s not surprising, then, that Daniels’ musical upbringing includes everything from church hymns to high school jazz band, from college-level theory classes to an embrace of Neil Young and the Bohemian composer Gustav Mahler. Daniels’ songs sound free and open, yet they still seem arranged with meticulous exactitude.

The music leaves you feeling vulnerable, but it’s the lyrics that go in for the kill. His songs are melodic questions that ponder religion and human folly — questions that, for all of us on at least some days, have no clear-cut answers. On “Jesus and the Devil,” Daniels seeks to distinguish between the two title characters; both can be seductive, and both want to claim Daniels’ soul. But, as is the case with the rest of us, sometimes he can’t tell who is winning.

From the jarringly beautiful piano solo, “Sharp Teeth I,” to the rumbling orchestral crescendo of “Minnows,” Daniels offers up a musical web of a world woven from haunting images and darkly human stories, giving voice to the questions we all pose on the days we stop to think. (Fat Cat Records)

www.davidkarstendaniels.com

-Kat Amano

Y-O-U — Flashlights

Produced by Geoff Melkonian and Y-O-U

Recorded at Nickel and Dime Studios in Avondale Estates, GA

Arrangement seems to be an aspect of music that is often overlooked these days. Many bands don’t seem to know their asses from their elbows about it, and the producers that seem to know a little end up creating the same arrangement a billion times (The Neptunes). On their latest release, Flashlights, the guys in Y-O-U seem out to prove that they are the band that is in the know regarding arrangement, and they succeed.

The Beatles and Ziggy Stardust-era David Bowie are clearly evidenced as influences on the arrangement and production here, but the band rarely ends up sounding much like these influences at all. Y-O-U also manages to cover a lot of musical ground on this record, yet never sounds anything less than focused at the same time. Driving rock butts up against acoustic timbres, while Joe Cocker soul co-exists with moody psychedelia. But it all sounds like it belongs there; if it weren’t there, something would be wrong.

Hooks and great melodies are everywhere, played by guitars, ARP strings, and various keyboards, and sung by Nicholas Niespodziani, whose versatile vocals lend a timbre that works well with the instrumentation. Oh the instrumentation! Y-O-U’s use of keys, meaty bass lines, interlocking guitar parts, various percussion instruments and well-placed backing vocals creates a tapestry that is thick but not overbearing. The use of the various instruments combined with the way they’re panned makes this record a treat for the ears.

On the lyrical side, Flashlights does a lot well, including present some thought-provoking words, and could almost be a concept album in terms of the order of the songs and some of the ideas and characters presented. But that is left to the listener to decide.

Flashlights could almost be taken as a microcosm of The Beatles’ White Album, half as long and with little to no filler. The production and arrangements themselves are reason enough to listen to the album, but there are a lot of great songs on here that will stick to your brain like peanut butter. (Self-released)

www.pleaserock.com

-Adam Deiboldt

Adam Klein — Distant Music

Recorded, produced, engineered and mixed by David Barbe at Chase Park Transduction Studios in Athens, GA

Mastered by Jeff Capurso at Chase Park Transduction

Distant Music, the debut release from Athens’ own Adam Klein, is an album steeped in the cosmic cowboy music of the late 1960s to early 1970s. Think Neil Young’s loping country beat from Harvest and the harmonies of The Band. You can hear familiar echoes of musicians like Woody Guthrie, Guy Clark and Bob Dylan all over the album. Distant Music is based around Klein’s singing and acoustic guitar, with instruments like dobro, fiddle and pedal steel adding a little scope and Klein’s harmonica being sparsely, but very effectively used. But the music is more evocative of lonesome trails and the range than the old cabin in the holler.

As with Dylan during his domestic period (1968-74), Klein’s songs reflect a life being lived. Songs like “Truck Stop Love” occur in the present. Other songs are ruminations on or express nostalgia for events that don’t seem that long ago — as though they’re the first recollections in Klein’s memory. This gives the album a casual nature that makes it feel like you’re talking with your friend on some porch or in a bar at four in the afternoon.

Whereas Dylan sang about how content he was in one place, Klein sings about finding his happiness all over the country — New England, Nashville, Cheyenne; hell, the first song’s called “St. Paul” (as in Minnesota, not the saint). The album is one part Planet Waves and one part Travels with Charlie.

Like Harvest, Planet Waves or Townes Van Zandt’s early years, Distant Music is fairly unassuming in its presentation. There’s no ostentatious analysis in the lyrics, no flash in the instrumentation, which draws more attention to Klein’s harmonica. David Barbe, the album’s producer, creates an intimate sound. You can hear fingers wiping on strings. Sometimes the voices aren’t all together. The lack of polish enhances the front-porch nature and overall friendliness of Distant Music. In many ways, polish would ruin this album. There are lots of bad albums by guys with acoustic guitars and feelings. The roughness around the edges of this album gives it a distinct edge over those others. The warmth and genuine feeling of the songs makes it very comfortable. And sometimes that’s what you need. (Broken Hill Songs)

www.adam-klein.com

-Warren McQuiston

Chaînestereo — Magnetic South

Recorded by Deke Spears at The 585 in Atlanta, GA

Produced and engineered by Deke Spears

As implied by its name (in French, a chaîne stéréo is a “stereo system” or “boombox”), Chaînestereo should be played at high volume. The Atlanta outfit’s debut EP, Magnetic South, is vigorous, coarse and bouncy, achieving its greatest sound when the band’s kinetic energy is matched in pure, pounding decibels.

This is garage pop with punk-rock vigor, whose production quality is just rough enough and whose lyrics are just obscure enough to give the band real indie cred and flavor. Cleaner production might have clarified some of the words, which sometimes get lost in the splash of cymbals and guitar on this recording, but then again, a few muddled lyrics never damaged rock ‘n’ roll.

The opening track, “Magnetic South,” seems to dissect the confusion of modern life, but is set against a lively melody, ending with a playful organ solo. It all comes to lyrically suggest an existential ennui, but musically imply that the best counter to being dealt a bad hand is to maintain a sense of humor.

In terms of musicianship, there is nothing particularly complex in any of these tracks, but they’re played with startling gusto and the fun is indeed infectious. The harmonies from Nathaniel Higgins (guitar and vocals) and Philip Frobos (bass and vocals) are surprisingly tight, and Chris Adams’ drums are fairly simple — but engagingly so — as in the garage-punk tradition. Matt Lampert’s contributions on keys are spirited and dynamic, often adding the final touch of energy to complete their rowdy tone.

This is a band to see live, and they’re planning a tour for this summer. So blast it on your stereo and it will intrigue, but go to a live performance and it is sure to rivet. (Sold Out Productions)

www.myspace.com/chainestereo

-Kat Amano

Envie — Envie

Produced and mixed by Blake Long

Recorded at Long Division Studios

Mastered by Rodney Mills

Envie, first off, is not emo singer/songwriter crap. It is also not bitchy grrl rock. And lastly, it’s not instrumental twee pop. Envie, the self-titled debut CD from pianist/harpist/vocalist Renee Nelson and lyricist Michael Overstreet, is, however, strange enough to be engaging and beautiful enough to be memorable. Current and former members of the band have performed with such groups as The Living Jarboe and Mastodon and have played gigs with Devendra Banhart and The Angles of Light. This might account for the peculiar dynamics between the uplifting dulcet harmonies and the ominous lyrics. And it’s this juxtaposition of light and dark elements that pervade the CD, making it eerie and blithe at the same time without either sound being watered down or lost. Envie successfully mixes upbeat art-rock with layered, spacey orchestral arrangements and dreamy vocals. Drawing on an assortment of instruments, including harp, Rhodes, lap steel, foundation poles, drums, bass, piano, keys, guitar, cello and violin, Envie most closely sounds like chamber-goth rock, which isn’t really a genre but fits nicely. Renee Nelson is like some sweet-voiced cherub lulling a person into a false sense of security, right until the cloud is pulled out from underneath and they plummet into her nightmarish reality, compliments of Overstreet’s compelling words. Stylistically, Overstreet could’ve written songs for any number of goth bands, but somehow his lyrics seem more truly pained and less pretentious. “Home Free,” “Spare Change” and “Something Like the Sun” may not be the most joyous songs on Envie, but they are certainly the most passionate and most poignant. As Nelson sings, “How can you ignore me / When you’ve got me by the throat / Doubled over and lashed,” you know she has more on her mind than a game of Shoots and Ladders. Envie is probably for fans of either Kate Bush, chamber music or Dead Can Dance, only less synth-inspired. The only complaint about the CD is that it’s only nine tracks long, and that’s including the hidden bonus song. (Self-released)

www.enviemusic.com

-Charley Lee

Chris Becker — Angels and Devils

Recorded by Chris Becker, Grant Curry, James Hall and Louis Romanos

Mastered by Doug Henderson at Micro Moose

Chris Becker’s unique amalgam of blues, electronica, story telling and preaching is a foray into the bizarre and, incidentally, the psychedelic. Looped industrial sounds phase beneath samples as disparate as incessant rolling snare drums, nubilous conversations and the sound of thunder and rain. Spoken voices recur throughout the album: preachers, neighbors, perhaps also the divine and the damned. Familiar drumbeats and the occasional guitar or keyboard ground the listener in recognizable territory, while Becker’s blend of phonic curiosities keeps us guessing.

There is a distinct chaotic, New Orleans sound on the album, ranging from the feel of Preservation Hall to the street parades of Mardi Gras. The sound is melancholy, but the occasional, idiosyncratic accordion injects a note of zydeco to lift the album out of its lugubriousness. The nebulous thread of voodoo is also sewn throughout the songs. The Creole vernacular of that city is Becker’s langue de choix, not necessarily in speech, but in feel. The entire album is a melting pot of aural culture, identifiable to anyone who has had the pleasure of visiting that bewitched and enchanted city.

The production of the album is not stellar, and some of the samples nearly drown in their own noise, but in the end, the style is apropos to its purpose. There are no virtuosos here, but neither are virtuosos necessarily obligatory in the place where this album is set. Becker finished this album just before Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans in 2005, and he dedicates it to the victims of that disaster. In any other setting, in any other time, this album would seem inappropriate, but set in New Orleans, recorded for New Orleans, it seems right. There is an element of Waitsian grit to this album, which, along with a pinch of necromancy and a slathering of secret sauce, makes it a Southern-sized homage to that place. (Beckeresque Music)

www.beckermusic.com

-Mitchell Maddox

Snub — Day One

No production information available

Wikipedia defines a mixtape as “a compilation of songs and/or tracks (typically copyrighted music taken from other sources) recorded in a specific order, traditionally onto a compact audio cassette.” With the passage of time and the advent of affordable digital technology, mixtapes have grown up into CDs and, more importantly, big business and marketing tools, with nearly every aspiring rapper or producer selling “mixtapes” from the trunk of his car.

With the release of Day One, Atlanta-based Snub has created a “mixtape” CD that stands out in a crowded field, primarily because of his innate ability to combine his provocative lyrics with the perfect beat. Right off the bat, the listener’s attention is captured by the intro to “Doin’ My Thing,” which could just as easily open an old-school R&B album as a rap CD. It becomes obvious that this is no R&B album, however, the moment that Snub breaks in with his smooth-as-silk flow, perfectly mixed with oh-so subtle female background vocals. “When I Spit” has a similar feel, with a somewhat catchier hook.

The energy picks up tremendously on “D.I.E.,” a fast-paced tale about Snub’s dedication to his hometown, spit with a “remarkable flow that causes CD-Rs to explode.” In “Blame” (produced by The N.I.C.), Snub calls out rappers, listeners and radio for, among other things, promoting meaningless hooks and beats while rejecting socially conscious lyrics. One of the most interesting cuts on the CD is “Get Right or Get Left,” a plea for various segments of society to get their acts together. Just when Snub gets the listener drawn in with his thoughtful lyrics, the track completely stops, at which point Snub informs the listener that the rest of the song will be available on his upcoming CD — the ultimate music tease. “Back to the Hood” is the obligatory tale of conspiracy theories regarding the government’s role in promoting violence and drug abuse in the hood.

Day One is a CD that even casual rap fans can enjoy from start to finish. Throughout the CD, Snub delivers his often-complicated lines in an effortless manner that makes the listener want to hear more. Snub should be applauded for staying true to the essence of rap music — its lyricism — while rejecting the shallow beat-and-hook rap style that could make him a lot more mainstream, and a lot wealthier. (Self-released)

www.myspace.com/38snub

-Jonathan Mason

Hobex — Enlightened Soul

Produced by Greg Humphreys and Hobex

Recorded, mixed and engineered by Greg Humphreys at Phrex Studios

Mastered by Brent Lambert at The Kitchen

North Carolina’s Hobex is marking its tenth anniversary as a band with the release of its sixth album, Enlightened Soul. The band has performed over 1,000 shows since its inception and played on the same bills as North Mississippi Allstars, Al Kooper, Bernie Worrell, George Porter and Fred Wesley. The band’s Southern-styled soul has served them well over the years, and this latest release is no exception.

The first thing that the listener will notice about this CD is that it is sparkling. Grooves this clean haven’t been laid down since George Benson’s heyday. Bandleader Greg Humphreys has pulled off the hat trick of making an album that has the big, crisp sound of a Steely Dan record with the groove and funk of The Meters or James Brown’s best bands of the 1960s and 1970s. While the sound is made up of classic ingredients, when pulled out of the oven you have a stridently modern collection of music that is as cutting edge as anything out there today.

Album opener “Free The Music” pretty much lays the groundwork for what follows: funk, groove and finesse. The song features a fine Southern-soul vocal from Humphreys and a rubbery backline from bassist Andy Ware and keysman Russ Betenbaugh. The lyrics seem to be a tribute to listeners, stating the case that only they can truly free the music from the musicians. Another standout track is the slow burning “I’m Not Ashamed,” which features another fantastic vocal performance from Humphreys and fine ensemble playing from the band, most notably drummer Dustin Clifford, who knows how to play for the song and not for himself. Clifford is given ample room to get his funk fix on belly-rubbing numbers like “You Set Me Free” and “Push It Off That Hill.” Closing number “Natural Child” gives Humphreys a chance to show that his guitar chops are as strong as his vocals. (Phrex Records)

www.hobex.com

-Jon Dawson

Benard — Benard

Recorded and mixed by Andrew Wiggins at Brickmason Audio in Atlanta, GA

Mastered by Carl Saff

It was nearly a decade ago when noisecore threatened to break into the mainstream rock world on the strength of definitive releases from artists like Quicksand and Drive Like Jehu. The intense heaviness, emotional ablution and discordant noises of this era echo in Benard’s debut album, which alternately rages and simmers with an intensity not heard since the glory days of Refused and At The Drive-in. Armed with non-sequitur song titles, math-rock tempo changes and blinding musical intensity, Benard crackles with the level of energy required to revive a long-latent scene.

Benard formed from the wreckage of two Marietta, Georgia-area bands: metalcore merchants Stranger By Day and indie rockers Left To Rust. In that light, it is not a surprise that their sound incorporates elements of both styles; metalcore’s abrasive, dense guitars and whiplash tempo changes combine with the low-tech production approach and avant-garde predilections often associated with college rock. Benard synthesizes these divergent references into a hyper-aggressive, passionate and volatile sound that is reminiscent of In/Casino/Out-era ATDI. Benard is a raw, often reckless disc, whose vulgar presentation might be a negative in some other context. However, the murky, indistinct mix and occasional rhythmic missteps on Benard serve to underscore the urgency of the music and the conviction of the un-credited players. The opening track, “Actually, My Dad Was a Motorcross Champion,” starts with the chaotic tempo and intricate rhythms of a somewhat looser Dillinger Escape Plan. The vocals come across as Cedric Bixler-esque, although deeper and more powerful. The rhythm section’s anarchic beats and white-knuckled tempo changes sound as though they could fall apart at any time. All the while, the snarling, gnashing guitar tracks are locked in combat with the vocals for space in a mix intentionally designed to put them at odds. Other cryptically-titled songs like “Some Call It Magic, I Call It Sean Connery” and “Stand up and Take the Sinnage” follow, showcasing similar aural ferocity.

Benard’s self-titled debut is not an easy listen. This noisy, chaotic recording, by all conventional wisdom, shouldn’t sound good at all. Therefore, it is a testament to the members of Benard that it somehow does. (Alaska Records)

www.myspace.com/benardmusic

-Matthew S. Maynard

Codaphonic — Good Morning Radio

Recorded by Mike Paragone and David Axelrod

Mixed and mastered by Mike Paragone

This album defines power pop. From the first glance of the cover art, where a yellow radio sits in the bright sunlight, the listener already knows that this is not going to be goth metal.

On Codaphonic’s debut EP, Good Morning Radio, frontman Cody Newman and company tell stories of jest and wit when dealing with a diversity of issues such as break ups, funny-sounding names and hearing their favorite songs on the radio.

While they list influences such as Harry Nilsson, XTC and Supergrass, there are many other little quips here and there that remind the listener of early Beatles and The Beach Boys.

On the piano-driven “Ritalin,” the guys playfully question the idea of putting children on the drug in order to have them stay focused. However, they are sincere in asking if it’s necessary. The standout track on the EP, it has a bouncy, good-time feel to it and is catchy as hell.

It may seem difficult to write a head-bobbing break up song, but Codaphonic does it with ease on the track “Don’t Be Surprised,” where Newman explains that even though he has been hurt, he will wear his heart on his sleeve whenever he sees her again.

Needless to say, Newman has found his niche as a professor in the school of power pop. Employing a taste of Wayne Coyne-influenced vocals and an ironic take on life’s little adversities, Newman knows how to command attention.

With Taylor Jones and Justin Harris following along on bass and drums respectively, the guys combine to produce a bright and intelligent six-song EP. The singalongs and “oohs” and “aahs” remind the listener of a time when rock was more about having a good time than about image. The guys are heading in the right path, if not staying true to their feelings. (Self-released)

www.codaphonic.com

-Kenneth Gambill

Papi Hey — Truthfully Speaking

Produced by Genius Mastermind, Kidd Fresh, E. Jay, Ready Made and Shawn (MVP)

Recorded by Kidd Fresh at Chop Shop Studios in Atlanta, GA

Mixed by Genius Mastermind (except Track 6 “E.J.” Mixed by E. Jay)

Mastered by Skip Lapekas

It is not necessary to read Papi Hey’s bio to know that he is a New York native. His first utterance on Truthfully Speaking puts to rest any doubt about his geographical background. Notwithstanding his Northern roots, Papi Hey has made a name for himself in the Southeastern music scene since moving to Nashville several years ago. Truthfully Speaking, his sophomore release, is both the result of hard work and evidence of his musical growth. Overall, Truthfully Speaking is somewhat light and non-traditional musically, but often hard-hitting at the same time. Papi Hey opens the CD with “Born, Raised,” a story about his ghetto upbringing accompanied by Santana-like guitar, which exemplifies Papi Hey’s unique style.

Papi Hey also grabs the listener’s attention with “Good Friends,” a feel-good story about the nervousness involved in proposing to his good friend. The lyrics are set to a melody that lingers long after the song ends. “Bout You Boy” is a fun duet with a young lady being courted by Papi Hey who resists his overtures because she already has a man. Perhaps Papi Hey’s best work is displayed in “In a Minute,” a mellow tale about learning to appreciate life because everything could change in a minute, in some cases depending on choices made. The music and lyrics combine to give this song potent hit potential. Tunes like “Gotta” and “Steppin’“ are strong dance tunes that could easily get everyone in the club on the dance floor.

Perhaps one of Papi Hey’s biggest challenges may be overcoming comparisons to Jay-Z since he often bears a striking vocal similarity to the self-proclaimed King. Comparisons aside, Truthfully Speaking is a definite step in right direction toward establishing Papi Hey’s own identity. (2 Gran Production)

www.myspace.com/papiheysus

-Jonathan Mason

Blair Combest — Blair Combest

Produced by Kevin Cubbins and Brad Postlethwaite

Hailing from Memphis via Mississippi, Blair Combest shoots for the sort of heart-wailing melancholy that has been a hallmark of great Southern writers for eons. The album’s sparse musical arrangements heighten the vocal drama that Combest pours into every syllable and verse. Combest’s voice is an uncanny reincarnation of early Bob Dylan, and the lyrics make Nick Drake sound like Bob Dylan.

The album opens with “Lovely,” a tune that wouldn’t be out of place on Springsteen’s acoustic-tinged Nebraska album. On this track, Combest, on acoustic guitar, sings about “a woman of such beauty, but she belonged to the earth.” The subject of this song is put on a pedestal and, by the end of the song, has headed for heaven. The next track, “Turn To Rain,” adds two more instruments (mandolin and banjo), but still has the feel of a laid-back, living-room jam that has to be kept low so as to not wake the baby. The theme of the song is again about a love that just isn’t gonna happen.

Things pick up a bit with the song “Disarray,” which features a full band with horns. The more filled-out sound mixed with the subject matter of the songs is a welcome departure from the bleakness of the earlier songs. Another song that gets the full-band treatment, “Maiden,” may be the crowning achievement of the album. Keyboard sounds ranging from Hammond to Mellotron allow this song to work instrumentally, as well as vocally. So many of the songs on the record are so fixated on Combest’s voice that you forget about the instruments, which can leave you with a one-dimensional sound.

The rest of the album progresses in much the same way — a few sparse numbers with an occasional full-band song thrown in. In the end, it’s a heartfelt, genuine album, but there is nothing terribly original or interesting. (Makeshift Music)

www.blaircombest.com

-Jon Dawson

Pistolero — The Kissing Bandit

Produced by Pistolero at Shabby Road Studios

This three-song CD from Atlanta-based Pistolero is a short but sweet trek through off-center garage rock and psychedelic balladry. The first song on the EP, “The Kissing Bandit,” combines garage rock ethos with a new wave attack that gives this song a unique feel while still sounding instantly recognizable. Vocalist Pallon Patrick’s voice is flexible enough to give you gritty and quirky within the same line.

The other members of the band (Todd Morrison — drums, Mike Perkins — bass, Arthur Pollard — guitar, John Ochoa — keyboards) really shine on “Endless Summer,” which at just 2:04 leaves you yearning for another chorus. A playful keyboard melody floats in and out of a fuzzed-out vocal and lazy ensemble performance that creates a mood that would raise the spirits of even the most jaded listener. If they ever make a Nuggets boxset for this decade, this track should be the first cut included.

All too soon the celebration ends with the cello-driven “Garden Party,” which is an LSD-tinged ballad that would do Donovan or even T. Rex proud. The acoustic guitar work meshes perfectly with the piano and cello, creating an ideal sonic bed for Patrick’s vocals.

Do yourself a favor and seek out this band’s other recordings. This EP is a cruel tease. (Self-released)

www.myspace.com/pistoleroband

-Jon Dawson

Holly — Fearless and Free

Recorded and mixed at Unclaimed Recordings

Holly is the project of Holly Cole, who cites Cat Power and Emmylou Harris, to name a few, as some of her heroes, and any self-proclaimed folk lover would agree that the undertones are undeniable on the Memphis-based artist’s Fearless and Free EP.

The first song, “Returned Love,” doesn’t hit hard at the beginning, but rather grows slowly as Cole’s voice builds. The entire song has an appropriately ethereal feel about it, and the background vocals that accompany her in the chorus are nothing short of angelic. The breezy second track, “Rainshine,” is of the same caliber. It is described as a bittersweet love song, somewhat like rainy days that open to bits of sunlight throughout, much like any relationship. Brad Postlethwaite’s saw in the background makes the song poignant, giving it an eerie, bittersweet aspect that fits wonderfully.

“Fearless and Free” is both the name of the EP and the third track. This song is a melancholy reach for times past, an attempt to gain clarity from a previous relationship that is lost. The album’s lyrical content is fitting but not overdone — a perfect combination.

“Banner,” the fourth track, features a Southern gothic, big band type of entrance. Cole’s voice is much rawer here. This angrier track provides a nice twist in the middle of the EP. Her reference to Neutral Milk Hotel as one of her influences will cease to go unnoticed here. “Our Pure Hearts” is a love song for music and music lovers. The artist perfectly describes the feeling an enthusiast gets when a song or artist pierces them.

The last track takes another much needed and certainly not unappreciated turn. In “Turtledove,” Cole channels her inner Emmylou Harris. Authentically upbeat, the tambourine keeps time through her tragic lover’s journey. It’s a fantastic, upbeat end for the EP that leaves the listener feeling completed. Fans of Cat Power, Aimee Mann, Neko Case and Neutral Milk Hotel won’t be disappointed with Holly Cole’s poignant folk entrance. (Makeshift Music)

www.myspace.com/hollycolememphis

-Ashley Barton

Slow Motion Crash — Slow Motion Crash

No production information available

Atlanta’s Slow Motion Crash has tapped into the same vein of inspiration (the 1980s) that has served The Killers so well as of late. Before anybody starts throwing rocks, though, it’s important to remember that the 1960s revivalism that was going on during the ‘80s helped produce classic bands such as The Smithereens, R.E.M and The dB’s. So if that generation could look back to move forward, so can this one.

Slow Motion Crash got its start nearly a decade ago in the form of the band Creve Coeur, which paired songwriter/guitarist/vocalists Brian Fisher and Ryan Holmes. The duo is joined here by long-time bassist Melissa Giorgio and newer members Emily Beard (keys) and Alec Irvin (drums). The most obvious comparison for the band’s sound would be the aforementioned Killers, who, like Slow Motion Crash, have channeled their love for ‘80s new wave/goth into a new hybrid that sounds totally relevant in 2007.

These songs have catchy, sing-along choruses, and the band members are not afraid to whip out a synthesizer to get their point across, and good for them. Sounds that were at one time considered passe are now new again — and actually refreshing. The songwriting duo of Fisher and Holmes has crafted an eerie sound that is also danceable. The three tracks that make up this release (“Faded Photograph,” “Culprit Eyes,” “Mirrors & Conflict”) are grandiose, proud songs that are performed with conviction and no sense of self-importance. There are no standout tracks here, but considering that all of the songs included are of equal quality, there is no reason to find fault. (Self-released)

www.myspace.com/smctheband

-Jon Dawson

The Feeding Fingers — The Feeding Fingers

Engineered and produced by Justin Curfman

The old proverb warns us not to judge a book by its cover, so it’s fortunate that this record has none. The artwork on the CD label alone is enough to warn of doom and gloom ahead. With cryptic song titles printed in an eerily scrawled font, there appears to be a number of dark places this album could go. Is it your garden variety morbid death metal? Will there be lots of screaming and depictions of bleeding fetuses? The fears are threatening and numerous.

But as soon as the opening track rolls in, all concerns are quelled as quickly as they came. Lush, melodic layers of guitar and piano subdue wary ears. As if to second the feeling, one-man show Justin Curfman chimes in, singing “fills my mind ... with relief.” Exactly.

Here lies a noble attempt at traditional gothic beauty. With an obvious nod to bands like The Cure, Curfman’s mournful cries echo in the distance, veiled in a gauze of reverb. Swirling around him is a variety of minimalist accompaniment, ranging from guitar and piano to electronic beats.

While The Feeding Fingers perform live as a three-piece, the material presented here is all Curfman, from writing to production. It’s an extraordinarily ambitious undertaking for a young artist, but trying to be a jack-of-all-trades has its drawbacks. The weaker tracks on the record recycle riffs over and over with little direction or purpose.

The tense underlying rhythm in “My Home Again,” for example, drives the song momentarily, but about half-way through the bottom falls out. What’s left is a hole of feeble percussion, sporadic melody and little else. This song and a handful of others beg for some rousing choruses, a sudden turn, anything to dive in and sweep the song up to its potential climax.

And Curfman is certainly capable of producing those more exciting moments. The evidence is buried deep within the record on tracks seven and ten. “Swallow Me” showcases Curfman’s true vocal prowess and range of emotion for the first time. Standout track “Fireflies Make Us Sick” might as well have been written by Depeche Mode themselves, as it touches on all the elements that typify their sound. Most notably, the signature percussion echoes heavily, punctuated by rapid-fire electronic beats. Showing unusual versatility for a solo project, Curfman proves he can wallow with the best of them or move you to the dance floor.

While he has yet to reach his full potential as a musician, the shining moments on the record point to a promising future. (Self-released)

www.myspace.com/thefeedingfingers

-Michelle Gilzenrat