CD OF THE MONTH
Carcrashlander - Carcrashlander
Recorded and mixed by Brandon Eggleston and Adam Selzer / Mastered by Daniel McKenzie
Possibly the most eco-friendly record label has produced one of the most sustainable records of the year. Housed in an individually hand-stamped, recycled office paper sleeve, the album appears crude and simplistic, but the nobility behind reducing carbon by eliminating plastic jewel cases reveals a thoughtfulness and acumen that’s also found in the rich, buoyant songs on the album.
Singer/songwriter Cory Gray offers an answer for those seeking the next Black Heart Procession or Songs: Ohia. The songs on Carcrashlander are static-free, clean, richly produced and largely piano driven — minimalist dark tunnels centered on Gray’s deep, inscrutable voice. The debut is a cohesive work and, like any BHP album, it feels vintage, like a treacherous waltz or like the dark, slowed moments of later Tom Waits. Songs typically arrive with gentle piano chording and patiently paced drums, dotted by subtle dirty electric guitar and synths.
Undeniably, the heart of the album belongs to Gray, whose voice and words elevate the placid instrumentation into inexplicable gorgeousness. This is especially pronounced on the song “Branches Made of Money,” which effortlessly flows with ride cymbal pings and a hauntingly stark piano melody as Gray sings in near conversational tones, “I sleep with sleepless horses racing / From a source that somehow forces me to ignore everything / It’s not enough / It’s hot enough in the summertime / It’s hard enough / It’s hot enough outside.”
With all of Gray’s doubled harmonies and dark broodiness, the result is an artful, delicate and completely indelible series of emotional experiences. If this debut album is a sign of things to come for this equally debut label, tell Jagjaguwar to scoot over and make room for the new guy. (Parks and Records)
www.myspace.com/carcrashlander
- Christopher Petro
Death to Anders - Fictitious Business
Produced by David Newton & Death to Anders / Engineered & mixed by David Newton at Rollercoaster Studios / Mastered by John Golden
The cover art of Fictitious Business, Death to Anders’ sophomore album, recalls that of Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot: a lone industrial tower against an impersonal, gray, cumulonimbus cloud-covered sky. Set against this eerie, dystopic backdrop, the album purports to be “a surreal and cryptic look at life in the 21st century.” Sometimes jangly, sometimes subdued as a drug-induced coma, sometimes poignantly parodic of Americana, Fictitious Business falls into that just short of a concept album category populated by the likes of Radiohead as it proceeds to dismantle the “fabrications and inventions” of modern life.
The album’s major strong suit is its ability to portray controlled chaos and a sense of subdued urgency, immediately recalling early Modest Mouse as it manages to be both cynically imitative and vibrantly evocative of a world gone awry. The title track alternates between soporific chiming and jagged, hammering guitar chords; the slightly shrill vocals and deconstruction of the American fairytale recall both the adamant stridency of The Decemberists’ Colin Meloy and the piercing paranoia of Kurt Cobain. “Ghost Rock” is the spitting image of Sonic Youth, with an urgent post-punk wall of sound underscored by a swirling, rhythmic, tonally ambiguous drive. The narrative “Mooney Stegg” plays out like a warped bedtime story, marked by plodding accompaniment and lazy, sing-songy vocals that contrast with the song’s dark subject matter (“Oh why go on living the way you do? / Mooney Stegg, forgotten and bruised”).
It is difficult to pinpoint Death to Anders’ sound, which is what makes Fictitious Business so interesting to listen to. It can be approached both as a concept and as a collection of individual songs, each with something unique to offer — hand-picked with steady purpose with steady purpose from every corner of the world this band has had to chance to study. (Self-released)
www.deathtoanders.com
- Caitlin Berka
Giraffes? Giraffes! - More Skin With Milk-Mouth
Recorded by David Provost and Kenneth Topham at Beef Studio / Mixed by Kenneth Topham at Beef Studio / Mastered by Dan Rathbun at Polymorph Recording
Santa Cruz duo Giraffes? Giraffes!’s brand of math rock pits a war between body parts to see which will prevail: heart or brain. On sophomore album More Skin With Milk-Mouth, the band’s music wanders between the decidedly technical, prone to manic starts and stops, and the emotionally suggestive, with bewitching melodies tending to cascade across the ears like a waterfall.
The instrumental two-piece doesn’t have much use for words over the course of the album’s five tracks, save for a recording of 20th century Zen deep-thinker Alan Watts waxing philosophical about dreams on “I Am S/h(im)e[r] As You Am S/h(im)e[r] As You Are Me And We Am I And I Are All Together: Our Collective Consciousness’ Psychogenic Fugue.” As illustrated, song titles are long-winded, most falling into abstract territory like “When the Catholic Girls Go Camping, the Nicotine Vampires Rule Supreme.”
The two-minute long “The Ghost of Eppeepee’s Ghost” showcases an interesting dichotomy: Joseph Andreoli on guitar with plenty of loops up his sleeve, and Kenneth Topham, quick to both play drumslayer and pound a glockenspiel like a typewriter, thriving in their ability to meld two seemingly opposing parts into a whole. It’s a well-executed mix with enough components - a rapid-succession whip of cymbals here, a thoughtful guitar flourish there - to offer a reprieve from too many driving beats and repetitive arpeggios.
“A Quick One, While She’s Away,” a joyous sonic collage, rounds out the half-hour long record in a perfectly satisfying feedback-drenched climax. The only drawback to this colorful work is its brevity. Can’t the battle between gross anatomy take a little more time to pan out? (Loves In Heat Records)
www.myspace.com/giraffesgiraffes
- Julia Cooper
Kublakai - The Basics
Mixed and mastered by Isaac Meek at Undercaste Studios in Seattle, WA / Recorded at Undercaste Studios
It took nearly two years, in which 35 tracks were conceived, written, recorded and then whittled down to a solid 17, for the 206’s most promising emcee Kublakai to release his debut album, The Basics. Seattle’s latest and perhaps greatest prospect to ripple the airwaves can best be described as a hybrid of Brother Ali’s preacher-perspective style and Eminem’s fearless wit.
For a debutant to the hip-hop main stage, Kublakai displays a fluid ability to communicate ideals and opinions through his lyrics and conversational delivery — a polish one would expect from an emcee with at least three albums on the shelf. Warning shots are fired on The Basics’ opening salvo “All Else Fails” as Kublakai lays down his mission statement over sample-laden hooks laced with DJ scratches.
Kublakai’s versatility is displayed throughout the album from the range of topics addressed to the commercial savvy hooks. Production is provided by Seattle’s finest in beatsmiths - Sebino, Captain Midnite, Grieves, Slouch, Nphared and BeanOne. Not one sound is alike, which pretty much describes the entirety of The Basics itself.
Every indie rapper has at least one song that speaks to the hardships of being an underground artist and “Talk That Talk” fills Kublakai’s quota capably. In what is perhaps the strongest testament to Brother Ali’s influence, “Oh Lord” takes the listener to church, inspiring them with a sermon of perseverance and integrity. “Power Food” advocates self-empowerment through education: “But they can’t arrest your mind with bars and handcuffs / So if you’re sick of being the system’s victim then stand up.”
Can Kublakai get better with his next release? The Basics leaves very little room for improvement. This is one small step for Kublakai, one giant leap for Northwest hip-hop. (Self-released)
www.myspace.com/kublakai
- Franklin Grimes
Great Northern - Sleepy Eepee
Recorded and engineered by Great Northern and Mathias Schneeberger at The Ship / Mixed by Great Northern and Mathias Schneeberger at Little D&B, except “Radio” which was mixed by Great Northern and Dave Trumfio / Mastered by Mark Chalecki at Capitol Mastering / Produced by Great Northern and Mathias Schneeberger
L.A.’s Great Northern follows its debut full- length Trading Twilight for Daylight with Sleepy Eepee, an EP featuring five tracks originally recorded prior to the band’s first release. Known for combining melodious songwriting with electronic noises in a wholly organic way, the sound of this aptly-named outfit embodies the cold and vast landscapes up north; the music is haunting and at times emotionally unbearable — sort of like that movie Fargo (wood chipper and all). Sleepy Eepee acts as an excellent sampler of Great Northern’s quieter side. It’s all killer and no filler, but only in the colloquial sense, as wistful noises drench and effectively illustrate the band’s lush, textured dreamscapes.
Sleepy Eepee opens with its most lighthearted number “Loose Ends,” a gentle psychedelic song filled with warbling synth and delicate instrumentation. On “Radio,” Rachel Stolte’s vocals come off sounding like a subconscious voice rationalizing for a troubled mind: “He’s not the only one I’ve ever seen / Could be the only one I’ll ever need.” The most notable track of all, “Summertime” contrasts a mournful melody with surprisingly hopeful lyrics. Its instrumentation is heart-wrenching, worthy of scoring the most poignant of films, and the song notably succeeds at (p)recreating the dark depths of the amazing “Low Is A Height” from Twilight.
Unlike most EPs, the tracks on Sleepy Eepee carry enough strength for repeated listens; they have the ability to take on new forms and meanings with each listen, never growing old or stale. Additionally, they exhibit the finer aspects of bittersweet, only sounding sad until one digs and discovers the hidden warmth within. And once there, the EP doesn’t feel so melancholy after all, but rather just a bit sleepy. (Eenie Meenie Records)
www.greatnorthernmusic.com
- Keane Li
The Heavenly States - Delayer
Recorded and mixed by Bond Bergland at San Pablo Recorders / Mastered by Bob Power / Produced by The Heavenly States
The Heavenly States have quite a reputation. They were the first rock band to perform live in Libya, and their not-so-subtle lyrical jabs at the Bush administration became more popular as the presidency became less — but the most recognized quality of this band has always been on the surface, namely their use of a violin. But with their new album Delayer, The Heavenly States make a concerted effort to escape this classification.
While their previous albums were produced by some of the best (Jeff Saltzman, who produced and engineered The Killers albums, and John Agnello of The Hold Steady), Delayer, their fourth release, was produced entirely by The Heavenly States. Overall, they succeeded with layers of pedal-heavy guitar, soft acoustic accents and piano in their quieter tracks, while the faster songs permeate with perfectly-placed tambourine clashes between sharp snare slaps. For the choruses of most songs, singer and violinist Masanori Christianson’s voice chimes in to fill the cracks left by lead singer and songwriter Ted Nesseth. Christianson’s backing vocals save the ballad “Sun Chase Moon” from being mundane — as Nesseth’s voice trembles, hers keeps a steady hold in the background.
In this same song, the violin — conspicuously absent until this, the fifth track — anti-climactically creaks from in the background. Not until the final few tracks does the band realize a full, practically epic sound; the production creates a live-in-concert atmosphere where the violin and guitars blare and the vocal harmonies flow effortlessly. The Heavenly States have pushed their sound beyond their comfort zone of fast-paced pop/rock and into a mellower yet hyper crescendo-filled indie rock territory. But standout anthems like “Never Be Alright,” “My Little Friend,” and closing track “The Race” make it clear that they’re still best at what they’re known for. (The Rebel Group)
www.theheavenlystates.com
- Alex Felsinger
Nick Jaina - Wool
Produced and mixed by Nick Jaina / Engineered by Kendra Lynn, except piano for “Ponchatoula” engineered by Jason Powers / Recorded at Jackpot! Recording Studio, Type Foundry, The Shooting Gallery, Mystery Machine Studios, Affiche Gallery, Jason Leonard’s house, Musee Mecanique Studios, and The Retro Church / Mastered by Carl Saff
Nick Jaina began orchestrating his new album, Wool, in 2006 on Elliott Smith’s old piano, before it was snatched up by a Seattle museum, so it’s no surprise that Smith’s eerie, spider web sound worms its way into the heart of it. Lovely, ethereal, and bordering on precious in its poignant otherworldliness, Wool is the kind of album one might hear in old bars filled with old men, in seminaries and in nurseries; Wool smells simultaneously of aged scotch and oak furniture, of church basements and musty prayer books, of sandboxes and grass stains. What ties these diffuse essences together is a haunting sense of nostalgia, captured perfectly in Jaina’s dust-covered melodies.
The album opens with the stormy, shuffling “Maryanne,” which finds moments of glockenspiel sweetness amid the lo-fi torrents of piano and soft, pure, Coldplay vocals. The lyrically orchestral “Power” is whimsical and almost tango-esque, fading in and out on specter-like screeched vocals with uncanny poetry to match (“When the moon is proper full / Set your hand into the wool / When you dip down to the skin / Feel the fever held within”). The jaunty, syncopated clarinet and jangling piano of “Apple Seed” add a touch of old world cabaret mystique, melting into a delightfully lyrical, gently ooh-ing chorus set against a legato melody. The staccato “Ponchatoula” almost sounds like a player piano in an Old West saloon. “Hymn” is at once spiritual and earthy, with a chord-heavy gospel-sounding piano line and an ethereal chorus that masks a cynical message: “And if you find a man in the city / Who showers you with twenties and fifties / Don’t call it love.”
The beauty of Wool lies in its ability to synthesize a diversity of textures, tones and themes with a unifying thread — namely a wistful, almost melancholic remembrance of things past. It’s a near masterpiece. (HUSH Records)
www.nickjaina.com
- Caitlin Berka
Chow Nasty - Super (Electrical) Recordings
Produced by Peanut Butter Wolf / Mastered by John Cuniberti at The Plant
If a band were to claim that it made the most spirited, funky and off the wall record ever, the Bay Area trio Chow Nasty would have reason to sue. Their 16-song debut album pushes the bizarre to the forefront and is much like a run on sentence that keeps going and going. As spastic as it is groovable, the unpredictability of it’s sound and instrumentation - horns, synths, bass, drum machines, guitar, harmonica and wildly dynamic vocals engaged in a spirited (but noncompetitive) game of dodgeball — makes it difficult not to get drawn in just trying to figure out where it’s all headed.
Overall, the album has both its major ups and its lowly downs (which are still upbeat). “Ungawa” brings out a chaotic but solidified ‘60s sexy soul/funk groove and welcomes the listener with the ready-to-party group chant “Uh-Ungawa-Baby’s Got the Powah!” This is revved up by the underlying buzz of Joey Enos’ bass, then overtaken by Damon Harris’ crazed vocals, which seem to burst out uncontrollably with their bluesy undercurrent and elastic raucousness. But as “Back on the Streets” starts off with great potential, its background vocals cooing , funky swerve grooving, and Nasty multi-instrumentalist Zac Hewitt working overtime, its length ultimately works against it. This overkill effect is probably the most frustrating part of the album. Chow Nasty has an overflowing amount of creative energy to offer — judging by these recordings — it’s safe to say they put on one heck of a live show — but some of their force still seems a bit feral and in need of some harnessing, or at least a stage to let it out on.
Super (Electrical) Recordings is a fitting debut for a band that not only puts an incredible amount of itself into its songs but also into engaging its fans. It just might be a little startling for the uninitiated. (Omega Records)
www.chownasty.com
- Casey P. O’Neill
Imaad Wasif with Two Part Beast - Strange Hexes
Produced by Tom Biller & Imaad Wasif / Mastered by Mark Chalecki
Imaad Wasif has played in various bands like alaska! and The New Folk Implosion, but his most recent claim to fame was his 2006 stint as hired gun for Karen O’s Yeah Yeah Yeahs. While he toured for his own gloomy acoustic solo debut that same year, he was writing up plans for his new musical amalgam — Imaad Wasif with Two Part Beast.
Wasif’s new tunes ditch the brittle, neo-hippie idioms for some equally murky full-band songs about his existential quandary of romantic loss. Wasif’s pining lyrics are just as unadorned and unedited as before, but his backup band now brings more gravity to the proceedings, as on brooding openers “Wanderlusting” and “Unveiling.” The latter opens up a plaintive window into Wasif’s lyrical inspiration as he sings about his muse/bitch goddess haunting him as “his sly addiction to the spectre.”
The backing band’s sonic discord (Bobb Bruno on bass and keyboards, Adam Garcia on drums) keeps Wasif’s heavy-handed bloodletting from becoming bottom-heavy with some lofty histrionic peaks. “Halcyon” features thunderous Black Sabbath guitar riffs rolling out of what starts as an acoustic spark. Wasif’s voice, effete and androgynous, also grows in stature as he repeats the refrain “God, I miss you.” “The Oracle” again recalls the electric power of Sabbath during its rousing coda.
Elsewhere, “Spell” feels like a stale continuation of Wasif’s first album with the distracting gauze of a full band while the roiling “Oceanic,” the album’s main single, is perfectly adept at swirling up its own electronic reverb and distortion. So when the dust settles, Strange Hexes at least stands to have a fitful heartbeat — something Wasif’s lifeless debut didn’t possess. (Self-released)
www.imaadwasif.com
- Kyle Lemmon
Shelley Short - Water for the Day
Recorded at Carterco Recording in Chicago, Red Rockets Glare in Los Angeles, and Alexis Gideon’s home / Mixed by Alexis Gideon and Shelley Short / Mastered by Carl Saff
With a warm sound that reaches out and hugs the listener, Short joins a new generation of modern folk artists like Ingrid Michaelson, drawing people in with an endearing voice and soothing, dream-like charm. Water for the Day, Short’s latest effort, walks the line between folk and pop while still being experimental enough to stay interesting. Working with her significant other and collaborator Alexis Gideon, Short has created an album that is as unpredictable as it is sweet.
Keeping the songs both light and meaningful, Short explores self-reflection, a story about a pony, moving on, and the bells of hell (among many other things). Just as her songs cover a range of topics, her sound explores a lot of territory too. Moving from the “oompah oompah” rhythms of a carnival in “The Getalong” to a chorus of singers with an added string section in “Godamn Thing,” Short keeps the listener guessing and pleasantly surprised with her dexterous creativity. Although she uses steel-string acoustic, classical, and electric guitars combined with minimal percussion to her benefit, Short could have carried the album with just her elegant voice alone. To add color, she chose to recruit Rachel Blumberg (M. Ward, Bright Eyes, The Decemberists) on drums, Tiffany Kowalski (Bright Eyes) on violin and Gary James on bass, along with some help from Gideon on guitar, who together give the album just the right amount of depth.
Despite the serious nature of some of its songs, Water for the Day neither wallows in depression nor muddies itself with loneliness and bad heartbreak. It’s an inspiring collection held together by memorable vocals and creative production that effectively experiments within the bounds of palatable taste. (HUSH Records)
www.shelleyshortmusic.com
- Dave Boodakian
The French Semester - Open Letter to the Disappeared
Recorded and engineered by Mike Kamoo at Earthling Studios in San Diego / Mixed and mastered by The French Semester and Mike Kamoo at Earthling Studios / Produced by Riaz Tejani and The French Semester
The French Semester draws inspiration from the masters of melodic infection, most notably Guided By Voices and early Of Montreal. Open Letter to the Disappeared is allied with frolicking male vocal harmonies and strummy electric guitar sunsets. The lyrics linger with a subtle lip of reverb, pointed choruses and longing poetry. The Los Angeles foursome tinkers with lo-fi and twee pop to craft an album that’s joyful and playful, as well as matured and inspired.
A major culprit for its listenability is singer Riaz Tejani’s confident, deeper-toned vocals. His pitch never strains, but commands boldly over the thick fuzz, guiding the instruments as opposed to the opposite. “Summer Face,” the debut’s centerpiece, is an effortless song, smug with an apathetic attitude and sweeping vocals that bridge the melody both deliberately and lazily - an apt quality laced throughout the album. On the track, the imposingly rich-voiced Tejani sings, “But when you get back, I’ll dry you / And I will speak your tongue smoothly / And I will be strong / Now you’re a humanitarian / But I will eat you someday.” Aside from the abnormal imagery, this is the song that will have the listener reaching for the repeat button and asking friends for the tracklist.
The French Semester doesn’t just employ a well-suited singer - its musicians are also notably adept at placing just the right kind of emphasis on their instruments. Things like Riaz Tejani’s guitar solos and Bryan Sullivan’s keys stride with the tempo; they don’t intimidate or preach — they groove. It’s clear the band has the competency to take its major key melody-driven rock into shoegaze territory, but opts for punchy character instead, protecting the album from pretentiousness. With an enduring carefree/ beach-weather feel and the occasional reference to the ocean floating throughout its lyrics, Open Letter... possesses an undeniable self-awareness that allows the band to drive home the point while being understated, catchy and nostalgic all at once. (Beyond Your Mind/ Cargo Records)
www.myspace.com/thefrenchsemester
- Christopher Petro
Foot Foot - Trumpet
Mastered by J.J. Golden
Though Foot Foot walks in L.A., the band’s musical stomping ground on Trumpet is miles and decades from the expanse of freeways and chic boutiques. “Saw the Legs” opens the album with an enchanted forest feel, full of distilled guitar, soft jingling bells and creepy harmonies. Forced hillbilly accents and endless nature analogies paint a backdrop of rural life. Even when referencing modern day Vegas conventions in “Highway 91,” there’s a dreamlike quality to the lyrics: “You were touting your latest invention / T.V. screens to be hung on trees.”
Foot Foot’s offbeat reality is exaggerated with dramatic instrumentation and the effects of guitar and blowing wind. In the majority of the songs on Trumpet, Foot Foot sticks to a slow motion pacing as if every note is sinking into mud and must be pulled out. This endless feeling is heightened by the device of repetition — Robin Brown finds at least one phrase in every song to repeat over and over, like “I will / I will / I will” in the album’s title track. Her harping vocals and harmonies pull apart the syllables of her words until all that is left is wailing, which to some will be the truest origins of prairie folk, to others nails on a chalkboard. Unfortunately, these exaggerated cries often overshadow the attention-worthy orchestration of the songs. Matt Brown’s bells mixed with the bittersweet strums of Josh Brown’s guitar form reflective melodies on their own, but as evidenced by “In One Room,” they’re powerless against Robin Brown’s biting voice.
As “Pilgrim Hat” and “Widow” become an epic homage to the Old West with their rumbling melodies, the quieter lullabies “Mountain People” and “Typhoid Mary” serve as time machines to an older, legendary country life — a past life Foot Foot happily stays stuck in. (Oedipus/ Aagoo Records)
www.footfootmusic.com
- Megan Clinard
The Quarter After - Changes Near
Produced, recorded and mixed by Robert Campanella / Mastered by Brad Vance at Red Mastering
On The Quarter After’s eponymous 2005 debut, some charged this L.A.-based band with the particularly nasty tag of being overtly anachronistic. This was mainly due to the fact that the group shamelessly brandishes its influential roots: ‘60s psychedelic folk akin to The Byrds’ Fifth Dimension. Second-wave British psychedelics mined the same territory in the ‘80s, but The Quarter After has their own way with it.
Changes Near starts off in a strange place, with new bassist David Koenig (ex-Brian Jonestown Massacre, currently of Spindrift) playing like a proto-punker on “Sanctuary.” Lead singer/songwriter Dominic Campanella sounds all the more like The Byrds’ Roger McGuinn as he sings the flower power opening line, “Sanctuary is a pretty face taking shape in my mind,” in a trance. Gloriously metered breakdowns full of tablas and Mellotron ensue as the Campanella brothers warp their 12-strings. Springy cosmic country brings to mind Gram Parsons’ work on “Counting the Score” and “Sempre Avanti,” and the guitar solos in “See How Good It Feels” veer on the kind of shambolic, edge-of-the-universe territory The Quarter After’s first album charted — it’s not shoegazing, but stargazing.
Changes also features a host of guests, including Matthew Sweet who contributes backing vocals on the rambling "Early Morning Rider," and Probyn Gregory (Wondermints, Brian Wilson Band) who produces the stentorian trumpet blasts on the same track. Fittingly, The Quarter After thanks a bevy of fellow psychedelic contemporaries in the liner notes for the album, such as The Lovetones, The Morning After Girls, The Tyde, and Dead Meadow. Some on this list have only amounted to musty appropriation, but The Quarter After are starting to assert themselves as more than just another eddy in a new wave. (The Committee To Keep Music Evil)
www.myspace.com/thequarterafter
- Kyle Lemmon
