Showing posts with label frog eyes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frog eyes. Show all posts

Monday, September 24, 2018

May-June 2018 reviews


These reviews ran in the Waterloo Record in May and June.

Kiran Ahluwalia – 7 Billion (Six Degrees)


The title refers to the population of the planet. While this Toronto singer builds bridges in song, she wisely doesn’t try to represent the culture of all those seven billion people in what can easily (and dismissively) categorized as “world music.” The Indian-born Canadian effortlessly mixes the music of her parents’ country with West African blues and North American pop conventions, particularly on closing track “We Sinful Women,” with lyrics adapted from the work of feminist Urdo poet Kishwar Naheed. There, Ahluwalia’s band takes full flight while the singer addresses the concept of “nasty women” through history. (May 18)


  
Stream: “Khafa (Up in Arms),” “Raina (Night),” “We Sinful Women”




Courtney Barnett – Tell Me How You Really Feel (Mom + Pop Music)


When this 30-year-old Australian singer-songwriter burst on to the scene, she was most definitely a child of the ’90s: the melodicism and aggression of Nirvana, the speak-singing and absurdist wordplay of Pavement and Beck, the storytelling of Lucinda Williams and Liz Phair. That hasn’t changed here—if anything, the ’90s quotient has been upped, with the presence of both Kim and Kelley Deal from the Breeders, a band to whom this album owes quite a bit. Barnett was in danger of becoming a one-trick pony—rattling off what seemed to be a series non sequiturs over big grunge choruses—but here she’s singing more than she’s speaking, although her droll delivery remains her trademark. She also gets deadly serious on songs like “Nameless, Faceless,” which riffs on a famous Margaret Atwood quote about how “men are scared that women will laugh at them / women are scared that men will kill them.” The not-so-cheery chorus: “I wanna walk through the park in the dark … I hold my keys between my fingers.” Musically, nothing here is as explosive as “Pedestrian at Best” from her debut, but Barnett is not playing for pop audiences: she’s in this for the long game. (May 18)



Stream: “City Looks Pretty,” “Crippling Self-Doubt and a General Lack of Self-Confidence,” “Nameless, Faceless”



Jill Barber – Metaphora (Outside)


Metaphora marks the continuing metamorphosis of Jill Barber from winsome folk singer to French chanteuse to jazz vocalist and now to modern pop star. Her career has always gone on an upward trajectory (she headlines Roy Thomson Hall later this year), and she claims her shift to pop was entirely unintentional, and not a bid for even bigger commercial success—although that might be exactly what it gets her.


Barber is approaching the age of 40: she’s a professional who’s been around a few blocks and around the world, is now a wife and mother, and found herself increasingly politicized in recent years. So instead of writing songs that sounded like they could have been written 60 years ago, which could be said of her last few releases, her new lyrics needed a modern sound. She turned to Ryan Guimond of Mother Mother, who co-wrote four songs, and to producer Gus Van Go, who’s made well-polished recent records by the likes of Whitehorse and Terra Lightfoot. Hitmaker Gavin Brown (Billy Talent, Metric) was also brought on board for a couple of tracks.


Barber wears all these changes well, while writing feminist anthems that could easily slip onto the radio. “The Woman” and “Girl’s Gotta Do” are both pop triumphs, while “Mercy” is a Sarah McLachlan-esque ode to self-healing, with a message to “show mercy to myself.”


Jill Barber has built her career on her own terms, and continues to do so—and Metaphora will take her to another level. (June 29)



Stream: “The Woman,” “Girl’s Gotta Do,” “Mercy”



Brownout – Fear of a Brown Planet (Fat Beats)


An instrumental Latino funk band covering music from Public Enemy’s first four albums. I probably don’t even have to say anything else.


Brownout is a band led by Adrian Quesada of Grupo Fantasma, a Texan Latino band most famous for once backing up Prince. With Brownout, whose first two albums paid tribute to Black Sabbath, he and his bandmates (who once backed up Prince, by the way) deconstruct the density of the Bomb Squad’s production and untangle the original samples to interpolate the PE compositions in revelatory ways. This is not an entirely untested premise: a funk group called the El Michels Affair did something similar with Wu-Tang Clan’s Enter the 36 Chambers, to great effect. It worked there, and it works here. Unlike PE’s (glorious) originals, there is no audio claustrophobia here: the funk is deep, spacious and psychedelic. Now we just have to wait for a new generation of crate-diggers to discover this record and create something new yet again, a hyper-modern musical ouroboros. A gift that keeps on giving. (May 25)


  
Stream: “Fight the Power,” “By the Time I Get to Arizona,” “Welcome to the Terrordome”


  
Carlo – s/t (Magnephonic)


Here’s your summer BBQ soundtrack right here. Carlo is a trio from Ottawa and Toronto, who, despite apparent geographic challenges, are an incredibly tight instrumental funk band that bring back the best memories of the Meters and Booker T and the MGs. Led by Kelsey McNulty on keyboards, with James Taylor (no, not that one) on guitar and Scott McCannell on bass—no fewer than five drummers fill that chair on this record—and with occasional slight excursions into spaghetti Western, surf and reggae territory, along with some songs could be TV game-show themes from the ’60s, Carlo is ready to play your next beach party. And if you know any old-school soul singers looking for a backup band, point them in Carlo’s direction. But if that doesn’t happen, they’re more than just fine on their own. (June 8)

  
Stream: “Ride,” “Corolla,” “Meathead”

  
Jennifer Castle – Angels of Death (Idée Fixe)


This Toronto singer-songwriter released one of the most beautiful records to come out of that city in years, 2014’s Pink City. On it, she embraced jazz phrasing, lush string sections, and utilized some of the city’s best players to frame her unique narratives. To follow it up, Castle embraces more of a psychedelic country-rock direction, with shades of vintage Memphis R&B, both of which suit her increasingly soulful vocals. Castle’s music used to be considerably more introverted; she now sings like she can see the sunshine. Which is odd considering the lyrical content here, much of which, as the title would suggest, deals with morbid matters. But death is not something to be feared, in Castle’s view. It’s something that’s ever-present, something that informs every decision and therefore worth singing about. She dances with these ghosts and celebrates life: this is not at all a dreary downer of a record. It is, however, a work by an artist deadly serious about her craft: "No one said poetry was easy / living with a song inside your heart / living with the muses all around me / waking up to soothe them in the dark." (May 25)



Stream: “Tomorrow’s Mourning,” "Texas," "Rose Waterfalls" 


Coeur de Pirate – En case de tempete, ce jardin sera fermé (Dare to Care)


The last album from multi-million-selling Québecois artist Beatrice Martin was called Roses, her first (largely) in English. The title of her new one translates as “in case of storm, this garden is closed.” A peak behind the curtain reveals why: extended touring to push her further into the English marketplace drove her to drinking. Coming out as “pansexual” years before Janelle Monáe did the same thing, and entering into a relationship with trans activist and fellow musician Laura Jane Grace, added a public dimension to the drama.


The storm has now passed, but Martin is no longer tending to the anglos for whom she planted Roses. Or at least, not the fair-weather ones, anyway: from the beginning, Martin leapt over language barriers on the strength of her songwriting and welcoming pop arrangements, and her latest should prove to be no exception. There’s no major shakeup in sound—these are big, minor-key pop songs built for radio but which would be just as effective with Martin sitting solo at the piano—but a cameo from franco rapper Loud (see below for a review of his record) is a welcome twist. Martin is one of the brightest pop stars this country has, even when most of the country isn’t paying attention. (June 1)



Stream: “Prémonition,” “De honte et de pardon,” “


Frog Eyes – Psalms (Paper Bag)


For 17 years, Frog Eyes has been a curious obscurity in Canadian music, a challenging and sometimes obtuse musical project capable of curious beauty and cathartic explosiveness. Now they’re calling it quits, shortly after frontman Carer Mercer survived throat cancer. He has said that for its swan songs, “We were trying to pretend it was our first record, when there’s no expectation that anyone will actually listen.” Considering the commercial prospects of Frog Eyes, I’m not sure that was ever a concern, but regardless: Psalms is an eccentric elegy, a fond farewell to one of the most intriguing Canadian bands of the last 15 years. (June 1)



Stream: “A Strand of New Stars,” “Don’t Sleep Under Stars,” “Itch of Summer Knees”


Galaxie – Super Lynx Deluxe (Lazy at Work)


Fuzzed-out guitar rock with plenty of psychedelic and dream-pop textures mixed with electronics and drum machines and turntable-scratching and (from I can tell) rather silly lyrics in French—that’s a formula that seems bound to fail. Yet here is the fifth album from Montreal band Galaxie, led by guitarist Olivier Langevin, which manages to combine all those elements into a cohesive whole. At times it’s a throwback to the punk rock tracks on Check Your Head-era Beastie Boys, with more of disco direction than funk.

At the very least, Super Lynx Deluxe sounds like a fantastically ridiculous night out on Boul. St. Laurent. (May 11)



Stream: “Phenomenal,” “Magie Magie,” “Manitou”


Greg Keelor – Last Winter (Warner)


Greg Keelor spent 2016 and 2017 dealing with death in his family and circle of friends, including that of his peer Gord Downie, while also experiencing pain related to his tinnitus, which made playing music live with Blue Rodeo an increasingly excruciating experience. It’s got so bad that he now wears earplugs just to walk down the street, and can no longer listen to his beloved car radio.


In the midst of all that, he made this four-song EP, which is no slight effort: each of the four songs is eight or nine minutes long. It opens with “Gord’s Tune,” a fond farewell to the Tragically Hip singer, which Keelor posted online after Downie’s death was announced. It closes with “3 Coffins,” inspired by the death of his mother. In between is a cover of a Peter, Paul and Mary song, and the hypnotic “City is a Symphony.” Last Winter is a slow, psychedelic dream, with lush string arrangements that elevate simple songs into something enchanting.


Keelor’s condition makes it unclear if he’ll be able to continue making music. If this meditative mood-piece proves to be a swan song, it’s a lovely way to go out. (May 11)


  
Stream: all of it. It’s four songs.



L Con – Insecurities in Being (Wildlife Sanctuary)


Lisa Conway is the singer in the cinematic band Del Bel. As L Con, Conway collaborates with partner Andrew Collins to create late-night torch music that draws from ’90s trip-hop and film composer Angelo Badalamenti, as well as modern R&B. The stark sound and atmospherics are a huge part of the appeal here (she’s sometimes accompanied only by a small woodwind ensemble), but the fact is that Conway’s voices is absolutely stunning—especially in such a sparse context, as opposed to the large ensemble in Del Bel. (The production by Scott Merritt, whose most recent solo album employed incredibly effective minimalism, is also a major plus.) Her phrasing, her pitch, her nuance, even in the quietest moments, is a rare feat. It’s probably also why she’s confident enough to cede the lead vocal on “The Art of Staying Tough” to fellow singer/songwriter/producer Casey MQ (Cadence Weapon, Zaki Ibrahim), who shares all of Conway’s strengths as a vocalist. Conway is highly underrated and works largely under the radar; while that’s unfortunate, it’s also music that exists best in the shadows and devoid of hype, a secret between performer and listener. (June 29)



Stream: “Try,” “The Art of Staying Tough” feat. Casey MQ, “Cogs Awry”


Peggy Lee – Echo Painting (Songlines)


This prolific Vancouver cellist has an extensive discography, but this 10-piece ensemble pulls together various threads in her career in an enchanting and hypnotic work. Written for a 2016 Vancouver Jazz Festival performance, the songs on Echo Painting employ bold and lush orchestration—a four-piece horn section, along with Lee on cello, Meredith Bates on violin and Bradshaw Pack on pedal steel guitar, over a nimble rhythm section including longtime Lee collaborator Dylan van der Schyff on drums—with plenty of room for improvisation showcasing each individual player, including long sections for one naked instruments, as well as more cacophonic and noisy outbursts that prevent the perfectly polished record from getting too polite. Oddly enough, Lee’s own cello rarely steps to the forefront—but she does plenty of smaller ensemble work where she shines more brightly. Here, all the strength is in numbers. (June 15)



Stream: "Out on a Limb," “Hymn,” “Incantation”



Loud – Une Année Record (Joy Ride Records)


The fact that this Montreal MC has a cameo on the new Coeur de Pirate record is the least of his accomplishments this year. Une Année Record is reportedly the hip-hop record of the year in that province, with a crossover pop hit (“Toutes les femmes savent danser”) and waves being made in France. Apparently his European label wanted him to take out his regional peculiarities—including an effortless skill in flipping between English and French in the middle of a phrase—but he declined, and he’s all the stronger for it. There are serious skills on display here, and may well be the first Québecois hip-hop record to put the province on an international musical map. (June 1)



Stream: “So Far So Good,” “Toutes les femmes savent danser,” “On My Life”




Priscilla Renea – Coloured (Thirty Tigers)


Barriers between country music and R&B have collapsed in the last few years—which is a pleasant and unexpected turn while the rest of the U.S. stratifies into polarities. But with the exception of Beyoncé’s “Daddy Lessons,” there have not been many African-Americans welcome on country radio. If anyone has the skills and charisma to change that, it would be Priscilla Renea.


Renea is a successful Top 40 songwriter, having written for Rihanna, Kelly Clarkson, Miranda Lambert and a huge hit for Carrie Underwood (“Somethin’ Bad”). She’s also an incredible, soulful vocalist from the gospel tradition and a bit of Southern drawl. Her second album is stacked with potential hits: pop songs that draw as much from country traditions as they do from modern R&B and trap. Renea told country publication The Boot that “every song I have ever written, no matter whether it turns into a rap song, an R&B song, a rock song or a pop song—everything I've ever written is a country song,” she says.


That also means a weakness for cliché: sometimes it works, like on the catchiest song here, with the chorus, “I want a big, strong man with gentle hands.” Sometimes it’s completely cringe-worthy: “You’re a gift in a you-shaped box.” But Renea is also unafraid to address autobiographical pain, as in the opening track, “Family Tree.” And on the closing track, “Land of the Free,” she directly addresses the racial divide in her country, in ways more explicit than she does on “Let’s Build a House.”


Priscilla Renea might just be the pop singer the U.S. needs in 2018. (June 29)



Stream: “Family Tree,” “Gentle Hands,” “Let’s Build a House”


Dana Sipos – Trick of the Light (Roaring Girl Records)


Dana Sipos was born under the northern lights in Yellowknife. She longs for the Blue Ridge Mountains of Appalachia. In between, she spent time in Montreal and Banff and Ontario’s Grand River and, in her words, spent time “getting down low and pressing my head into the side of the earth, fire eyes and seashell ears help me translate what I hear in the trails of luminescence, in the walls of the old farmhouse, through the tangled waterways and in the threads of the past into a collection of sonic stories.” That about sums it up.


On Trick of the Light, Sipos makes psychedelic folk music with shimmering organs, eerie violins (by Tagaq’s Jesse Zubot) and a hypnotic rhythm section, all produced by Sandro Perri (Polmo Polpo) and featuring various players from the folk and improv community at Toronto’s Tranzac Club, including Mary Margaret O’Hara. Sipos stands in the middle of her talented collaborators with songs that could work a cappella, singing in a voice on the same spectrum as Cat Power, Natalie Merchant and Jennifer Castle. The arrangements are haunting, sometimes nudging into noir-ish jazz, sometimes dipping into the darker corners of country music, always perfect for late-night drives through rural countryside. “The road needs more songs like you,” she sings. It also needs more singers like her. (June 15)



Stream: “Blue Ridge,” “Lighthouse Nights,” “Lean Times”


Tracyanne & Danny – s/t (Merge)


Tracyanne Campbell was the lead singer of acclaimed Scottish indie pop band Camera Obscura, a band that came to a tragic end in 2015 with the death of 33-year-old keyboardist Carey Lander, from bone cancer. After a while laying low, Campbell rekindled a casual musical acquaintance with Danny Coughlan of Bristol band Crybaby; their debut as a duo continues her fascination with the “countrypolitan” era of American country music, with lush string sections and saxophones amidst the pedal steel and heartbreak. They also come up with possibly one of the greatest country song titles ever: “It Can’t Be Love Unless It Hurts” (which, thankfully, proves to be just as good as its title). Campbell sounds melancholy even on her most buoyant songs; Coughlan shares lead throughout, and proves to be a perfect foil. This is a rich return for one of the great unsung singer/songwriters of the aughts, whose music always sounded older than her years—in a good way. (June 1)


  
Stream: “It Can’t Be Love Unless It Hurts,” “Deep in the Night,” “2006”


Thursday, September 16, 2010

Polaris preview 2010 pt 1

It's Polaris Prize season again, which means that music critics across the nation are reaching fever pitch trying to hide the fact that they actually care quite a bit about who ends up with a $20,000 cheque at the end of Monday night. As they should--ultimately, they're collectively responsible for the shortlist, from which the winner will be chosen by 10 selected jurors.

Polaris season inevitably means many incoherent rants about what the prize is and what it isn't and whatever Writer X thinks it should be and whether or not anyone even listens to albums anymore. Some people like to complain about the shortlist and then admit that they like at least half of the artists on it. Some people think the prize only awards safe, predictable choices--and then almost everyone is surprised at the final result, every single goddam year. Which really means that most of the snipers are just upset that they weren't able to predict anything at all.

With the exception of the first year, I've been wrong every single year. I don't see why this year will be any different.

That said, today and tomorrow I'll post my annual charge to the jury, along with 10 other albums I would have loved to have seen on the shortlist--many of which made the long list of 40, so I can't really complain.



And the first five nominees are:

The Besnard Lakes – The Besnard Lakes Are the Roaring Night (Outside)

The album: I feel like I was one of three rock critics in all of Canada who was bored to tears by the Besnard Lakes; the universal praise for their last album, the Polaris-shortlisted The Besnard Lakes Are the Dark Horse, left me completely mystified. Then again, I’ve never been a part of the cult of either My Bloody Valentine or the Beach Boys, and this band is a wet dream for people in love with both. Yes, the singing is lovely, and yes, Jace Lacek is a great producer with an ear for big guitar tones—you should hire him today. And thank god that bassist Olga Goreas is taking more control of the lead vocals, as Lacek’s falsetto can be a bit strained. But I clearly don’t take enough drugs to be entranced by the plodding rhythms here, which seem scared of any semblance of syncopation, and I spend most of my time while listening to this record simply nodding my head and counting out the beats: one and two and three and four and one and two and three and four and one and two and three and four and one and two and zzzzzzz …. Zzzzz … zzzz

The chances: Fair. The people who love this band love them to bits. And Roaring Night is a definite improvement over Dark Horse—which in turn was leaps and bounds above their debut, so on the other hand this is a band that continues to improve. Their masterpiece is most likely ahead of them. Considering the competition, this is probably not their year.


Broken Social Scene – Forgiveness Rock Record
(Arts and Crafts)

The album: Broken Social Scene and I are fair-weather friends. That is to say, I love 2002’s You Forgot It In People as much as anyone, and I can take or leave pretty much everything else they’ve ever done. Having said that, I love this album: it’s full of pop hooks, sonic experimentation, a surprising Krautrock influence, a star turn by new singer Lisa Lobsinger, stellar production, and Justin Peroff delivers the best performance by a drummer I’ve heard this year. String sections, horn sections and multiple guitar lines bob and weave around each other yet never distract from the unity of purpose. I don’t know nor do I care what “Texico Bitches” are (though I can guarantee it’s not the prescient political statement some lugheads thought it was when the BP oil spill hit), but the lyrics on “World Sick” give me chills, as does the melody on “Sweetest Kill.” Forgiveness Rock Record is diverse, daring, and deserves all absolution for past sins, perceived or real.

The chances: Good. The last time they were on a Polaris shortlist, it was for their divisive self-titled album, which—according to Stuart Berman’s book This Book is Broken—even the band itself was divided on. Forgiveness Rock Record has brought old fans back into the fold, but it’s unclear whether the unconvinced are on board. Jury members might be either sick of this band or never cared in the first place; with the kind of baggage this band carries around, hopefully objective ears will prevail. “It’s the year 2010,” goes a line in the triumphant “Water in Hell”—a year that could well belong to Broken Social Scene.


Caribou – Swim (Merge)

The album: Caribou picked up a Polaris two years ago for Andorra, an album that saw him shifting away from his electronic and psych-rock beginnings toward a ’60s-tinged pop sound. Swim sees Dan Snaith moving forward yet again, retaining the melodic sense of Andorra with an intriguing mix of acoustic and electronic sounds that sounds worlds away from anything else he’s ever done. “Odessa” was a perfect summer dance single; “Found Out” does his peers the Junior Boys better than they do themselves; likewise, “Bowls” betters Caribou’s one-time mentor Four Tet. But mostly, Swim sounds like no one other than Snaith himself, an eclectician and sound scientist giddy with endless possibilities. Surely that’s him we hear cackling like a monkey on “Odessa,” delirious with joy about the wonder he’s created.

The chances: Merely fair. Because no matter how good Swim may be—and it’s Snaith’s best work in an already impressive discography—the fact that he’s a previous winner in the short history of this prize may work against his chances in the jurors’ minds, subliminally or otherwise.


Karkwa – Les Chemins de Verre (Audiogram)

The album: This Quebecois band has been around for 12 years, this is their fourth album, and yet it’s safe to say precious few in TROC have ever heard of them, despite their popularity in their native province. Listening to Les Chemins de Verre, it’s easy to understand the cultural gap: there is an entirely different vernacular at work here. Never mind the language difference; this music sounds entirely foreign, in ways that bands like Sigur Ros or Dungen or, I don’t know, even Tinariwen doesn’t. The previous Polaris franco contender, Malajube, came from prog and punk reference points that translated universally. All of this is a long-winded way of saying that I simply don’t get it. Thankfully, Ben Rayner does.

The chances: Fair. Its difference could work in its favour, especially since most jurors probably feel like they’ve heard enough of the other nominees, and their respective genres, already.


Dan Mangan – Nice Nice Very Nice (File Under: Music)

The album: There’s nothing I can say about this album that the title doesn’t. I will say, however, that I met Dan Mangan at last year’s Polaris. He is, in fact, very nice.

The chances: Depends on how many CBC Radio programmers are on the jury. Or twentysomething university students. Or both. Either way, it will answer the eternal question: do nice guys finish last?






The could've beens:

Bahamas – Pink Strat (Nevado)

The album: A lovely, low-key debut from Feist’s guitarist, sung in a morning-after voice—although judging by the longing in the lyrics, there was no loving to be had: “In the morning I woke up, and the whole thing was in my head.” Afie Jurvanen makes tasty guitar licks sound effortless, which combined with the fact that he sounds like he’s singing in a reclining chair, makes listening to Pink Strat as easy as relaxing on a beach in, uh, the Bahamas. Though it’s a promising debut, its one downfall is that every time it comes up on my shuffle, I think it’s M. Ward.

Why it didn’t make the short list: Despite his famous friends, not many people heard this album in time for it to make an impression; it likely scraped onto the long list on the strength of two or three extremely enthusiastic supporters in the jury. Expect his forthcoming album, recorded with the Weakerthans’ Jason Tait, to make big waves.


Billy Talent – III (Warner)

The album: I’ll admit I fell in love with this via Stockholm syndrome, because my teenage stepkiddo plays it relentlessly and mastered every bass line on it. As a result, I probably heard this more than any other Canadian album released in the qualifying period. Thankfully, it’s really good: though they started out as a slightly screamo, Buzzcocks-influenced melodic mall punk band, Billy Talent have come a long way, and producer Brendan O’Brien (Bruce Springsteen, Pearl Jam) brings out subtle nods to R.E.M. and The Police inside the huge riff rock that they’ve now mastered. Ben Kowalewicz is not only less cartoonish now that he’s on the other side of 30, but he’s an increasingly impressive singer. “Saint Veronika” not only gave the stepkiddo an excuse to read Paulo Coehlo, but it was one of my favourite melodies of 2009; “Turn Your Back” is the rare song that makes me feel 16 again. Billy Talent are a teenage rock fantasy that this adult doesn’t feel guilty about at all.

(P.S.: Ben, Ian, Aaron and Jon: if I could get your autograph, I’d score major points at home and would be eternally grateful.)

Why it didn’t make the short list: Billy Talent do it for the kids, not the critics. And sadly, headlining the Air Canada Centre doesn’t mean they’re taken seriously. No matter—surely they’re laughing all the way to the bank.


Frog Eyes – Paul’s Tomb: A Triumph
(Dead Oceans)

The album: I’ve had many musician I admire tell me for years that Carey Mercer is a genius. I never bought it. Until now. While I found early Frog Eyes albums somewhat intriguing, they seemed stuck in a rut and Mercer’s Beefheart strut got wearisome quickly. Here, however, there are far more dynamics at play, and his usual maelstrom of madness is tempered with majesty and melody. The guitars sound fantastic, and drummer Melanie Campbell steers the ship that’s always in danger of capsizing completely. Paul’s Tomb is certainly an exhausting listening experience—as is everything Mercer is involved with—but it’s also utterly fascinating.

Why it didn’t make the short list: Frankly, because most people hate this band— if they’ve heard of it at all. The fact they made the long list was a minor miracle. Carey Mercer frightens most, and infuriates others. It’s too bad that some who wrote him off ages ago might not give this album a chance.


Lee Harvey Osmond – A Quiet Evil (Latent)

The album: A bunch of CanRock survivors—Tom Wilson (Junkhouse, Blackie and the Rodeo Kings), Michael Timmins (Cowboy Junkies), Josh Finlayson (Skydiggers, Country of Miracles), Colin Cripps (Crash Vegas, Kathleen Edwards) and elder statesman Brent Titcomb (Three’s a Crowd)—unite to play some spooky blues and Velvet Underground jams in the wee hours of the night. It’s not unlike the magical mystery of the first two Cowboy Junkies albums, even if it’s more muscular and in clearer focus. Indeed, it seems to have sparked something in Timmins, who also just released the finest Cowboy Junkies album in 15 years, Remnin Park. And it’s hands down the best album Tom Wilson has ever been at the centre of—whether or not you consider that faint praise.

Why it didn’t make the short list: Too old and taken for granted. Polaris is a young man’s game, though they did squeak on to the long list. Also, it’s too weird for folkies and too folkie for weirdos, plus some critics thought the whole thing was too slapdash—though I’d argue that’s why it worked.


New Pornographers – Together (Last Gang)

The album: Together indeed, as every member of this uncommonly talented band brings their A-game to their fifth album. Kathryn Calder has fully grown into her role, and she and Neko Case play off each other perfectly. Carl Newman coughs up his best set of songs since at least 2005’s Twin Cinema, perhaps even since the New Pornographers’ 2000 debut Mass Romantic. Everyone else provides the muscle and ornamentation that make this band the dense delight it is. At this point, their biggest problem is that people take them for granted.

Why it didn’t make the short list: Fucked if I know.


Friday, May 21, 2010

May '10 reviews

The following reviews appeared in the Kitchener-Waterloo Record and Guelph Mercury.




Broken Social Scene – Forgiveness Rock Record (Arts and Crafts)

One of the biggest bands in the land—physically, that is, if not in terms of critical praise—asks for your forgiveness. But they don’t do so humbly or on bended knee. Instead, they do it with the biggest gesture possible: a warm, inviting album that distills all of their epic reach and subtle sonics, a work that—after several shaky years trying to live up to the grandiosity of 2002’s You Forgot It In People—delivers on every promise this band ever made.

This success likely has everything to do with the way this album was made. Although more than 30 people appear on it, the bulk of it was recorded by the seven core members in Chicago, far enough away from the many distractions—and expectations—of their Toronto lives. The result is that even the slightest of songs here have a focus that some of this band’s more meandering moments have lacked in the past: witness the delicate haze of the summery, sweet-nothing and spliced-up bossa nova of “Highway Slipper Jam,” or the undulating drums and cascading keyboards of opening track “World Sick.”

The amorphous nature of Broken Social Scene—both its membership and its musical vision—coalesces on anthemic rock (“Forced to Love”), arty balladry (“Sweetest Kill”), and psychedelic pop (“Texico Bitches”). And yet as big as Forgiveness Rock Record sounds—many instruments and vocals are pushed to barely distinguishable yet effective levels of distortion, though never as a distracting gimmick—it’s not out to grab you by the throat and make a Big Obvious Statement on first spin. It reveals itself slowly, until all those tiny moments add up to earworms that demand compulsive listening. The sonic layering here is masterful, adding breadth and depth to what are often sketches of songs—sketches, mind you, that also place melody at the forefront.

“The shuck and jive is over,” they sing triumphantly near the end of the record. By that point, they’ve worked hard to prove it: the album’s first six songs in particular are sequenced to be sure shots. Bandleader Kevin Drew is most often at the forefront, though Apostle of Hustle’s Andrew Whiteman scores with “Art House Director,” and Brendan Canning writes the best Pavement song in 15 years with “Water in Hell.”

Most promising is BSS’s relative newcomer, singer Lisa Lobsinger; she was brought on after the band’s other female singers (Feist, Emily Haines and Stars’ Amy Millan—all of whom appear here on “Sentimental X’s,” singing “what we want is off and on”) became too busy being indie superstars to tour with BSS. Lobsinger comes into her own on the somewhat Scandinavian, shimmering and pulsing “All is All,” which is surely the closest Broken Social Scene has ever come to a pop single.

Depending on how closely you follow the personal and musical dramas behind Broken Social Scene, you may wonder why they’re bothering to ask for your forgiveness. No matter: this is an album not only for anyone who ever believed in the band, but for anyone who could never quite figure out what the fuss was about. Kevin Drew is wont to proclaim on stage: “We do this for you.” This time out, it certainly sounds like it. (May 6)

Download (zunior.com, iTunes, eMusic, amazon.com, puretracks.com): “World Sick,” “All is All,” “Sweetest Kill”




The Dead Weather – Sea of Cowards (Third Man)

Real rock and roll should like sweat, sex, and shamanistic voodoo. It should not sound like work. It should sound like the Dead Weather.

Jack White’s new group formed not much more than a year ago; this is its second album, and immediacy is everything. There is a spark to every song here that sounds like a first take, a spontaneous combustion that seems to surprise the players themselves. None of the individual songs are spectacular; none of that matters. The Dead Weather is about chemistry, about blood, about guts.

It’s also about the blues. Vocalist Alison Mosshart snarls and struts her way over monstrous bottom-heavy blues, while Dean Fertita effortlessly extracts fractured, blistering leads from his guitars and organ. But this is clearly Jack White’s band: not only does he share more vocal leads with Mosshart on this album, but his drumming sets the pace and the tone of the proceedings.

Even more than the performances, the sound of Sea of Cowards is spectacular: you don’t have to be a sonic scientist or a gear geek to appreciate the rich tones, the reverb, the live room, or the way that every instrument—including Mosshart’s gripping and growling voice—stakes out its own space.

As he seeks out new challenges and new opportunities outside playing guitar in the White Stripes, Jack White is still learning how to make great rock’n’roll records. This one may well be his best studio recording yet. (May 20)

Download (iTunes, puretracks.com, amazon.com): “Hustle and Cuss,” “Gasoline,” “I Can’t Hear You”




Frog Eyes – Paul’s Tomb: A Triumph (Dead Oceans)

I don’t know who Paul is or how he died or why his tomb might be considered a triumph, never mind the title of the fifth album by Victoria, B.C.’s Frog Eyes—a group never known to spell anything out for the unsuspecting listener. It’s hard to discern what bandleader Carey Mercer is on about at any given moment; it certainly sounds random, although any of the well-respected musicians who have worked with him will swear on their own artistic reputations that the man is a certifiable genius. Others just think he’s certifiable.

So by saying that Paul’s Tomb is indeed a triumph and by far the most rewarding album of Mercer’s extensive discography may mean merely that it doesn’t sound like you’re being wrestled to the ground by a screaming lunatic with a cowbell and a volume of Milton’s poetry. Except that it does still sound a bit like that—only in a good way. “Everybody’s got a hole in their heart / everybody’s got a darkness in their gut,” he bellows, and you’d better believe him.

Opening track “A Flower in a Glove” features Mercer working his strangulated yodel to maximum emotional effect, sounding like he’s been bound and gagged for years, only now given the chance to defend himself to his interrogators. The majestic, stately guitars sound at times like a bizarre cross between Neil Young’s Crazy Horse and King Crimson’s Robert Fripp; Melanie Campbell’s inventive drumming ensures that nothing ever settles into a comfortable rock groove—and on the rare occasions when it does, it brings everything else into a clearer focus and provides a fleeting moment of resolution (not a common commodity in Frog Eyes songs).

Whereas Frog Eyes used to bludgeon the listener with a non-stop assault, Paul’s Tomb—and “A Flower in a Glove” in particular, which miraculously refuses to wear out its welcome after nine epic minutes—displays a much more powerful grasp of dynamics. By retreating even just a bit to create open space, the musical explosions are that much more effective, and Mercer is more than ever in command of his often unruly voice. Much of this new focus is a credit to the production, which is crisp and capable of capturing the many colours at work here.

Frog Eyes are unlikely to ever break through beyond an underground cult status, but Paul’s Tomb may well be the album that causes naysayers to reconsider, and the curious to perk up their ears. (May 13)

Download (iTunes, eMusic, amazon.com): “A Flower in a Glove,” “Odetta’s War,” “Rebel Horns”




American Idiot: The Original Broadway Cast Recording featuring Green Day (Warner)
Flaming Lips – Dark Side of the Moon (Warner)

Cover songs are one thing. Covers of specific albums are another, especially when performed by one artist. Or, in the case of Green Day’s American Idiot album, when it’s adapted into a Broadway production.

It’s not entirely strange that American Idiot landed on Broadway—it’s neither more nor less ridiculous than The Who’s Tommy, for starters, and the music is melodic and just as catchy as anything from, say, Grease; Green Day’s Billie Joe Armstrong knows a lot more than three chords, and though until recently he never talked about his early background singing show tunes, he’s not coming into this completely out of left field.

But as infectious as almost all these songs are, why would anyone want to hear someone other than Green Day perform them? The arrangements—and certainly the instrumentation—rarely stray from the original album, making this one big karaoke project. Meanwhile, none of the singers are suited to the punk rock backdrop—everyone here, talented though they are, sounds like fish out of water—or the cast of Glee.

The Flaming Lips have never feared the ridiculous, a character trait usually manifested in their wonderfully imaginative stage shows, or the ill-advised homemade sci-fi film Christmas on Mars. Deciding to cover Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon isn’t the worst idea in the world—it’s actually been done before, in reggae form, by the Easy Star All-Stars—and yet the Flaming Lips have somehow managed to make a complete trainwreck out of it. Very few of their versions are faithful—which is fine and admirable—but most of them fall flat or flame out completely (especially the god-awful “Great Gig in the Sky”). Only “Brain Damage,” the closing track, emerges unscathed and somewhat consistent with the Lips’ finest moments; otherwise, this is best left in the dark. (May 20)

Download Green Day (iTunes, amazon.com): “21 Guns,” “Are We the Waiting,” “Last of the American Girls”
Download Flaming Lips (iTunes, amazon.com): “Brain Damage,” “Speak to Me,” “Any Colour You Like”




Grupo Fantasma – El Existential (NatGeo Music)

Very little of the live power exhibited by this blazing hot Latino band is diminished once they haul themselves into a studio. Scorching, often psychedelic and surf-y guitar leads are almost secondary to the heavy percussion section, which is prominently placed in the forefront of the mix. Rock, reggae, cumbia and salsa comprise the Fantasma formula, but all that really matters is that this a party from start to finish. If there’s a difference on this new album, it’s the presence of keyboards: electric pianos, Farfisa organs and accordions that add even more depth to a rich palette. Track for track it’s not as consistently strong as their breakthrough Sondidos Gold or their live album, but it’s still the work of an ace band at the peak of its powers. (May 13)

Download (iTunes): “Montanozo,” “Calor,” “Hijo”




Hole – Nobody’s Daughter (Universal)

It would be unfair to say that Nobody’s Daughter sounds like a cartoon cut-out version of Courtney Love—because Love’s public persona has never been anything less than cartoonish. Her public persona has arguably always superceded her musical acumen, notwithstanding her one bonafide classic, 1994’s Live Through This.

Nobody’s Daughter is only Love’s third album since then, and it’s the first one to sound remotely like the same artist—on the surface, anyway. The grungy guitars are back, Love is singing with a Iggy Pop-esque drawl that curls the end of every phrase, and she’s skewering the sisterhood on songs like “Skinny Little Bitch” and “Loser Dust.”

And yet she is a shadow of her former self: as a singer, as a songwriter, as a charismatic personality. Nobody’s Daughter (an unfortunate title, considering her recently lost custody battle) sounds like an artist who has been out of the game for too long and trying too hard to get back in—never more so than on the cloying “How Dirty Girls Get Clean.” There are attempts, on tracks like “For Once in Your Life” and “Letter To God,” to aim for the kind of scarred, lived-in wisdom of Marianne Faithfull, but Love is far too clumsy and completely lacking in class to pull that off. As for the rockers, she has no trouble conjuring a tortured scream, but neither the songs nor her backing band do her no favours; frankly, Dakota Fanning kicks more ass on The Runaways soundtrack.

“I never wanted to be some kind of comic relief,” she pleads, “please show me who I am.” Nobody’s Daughter is not a raging return, nor is it so terrible that it will satisfy her naysayers’ need for a trainwreck. Instead, it’s innocuous, which for an attention magnet like Courtney Love is a kiss of death. (May 6)




Holy Fuck – Latin (XL)

The first thing we hear is a primitive drum machine get off to a stuttering start before it accelerates rapidly and excitedly, like it can’t wait to get off to the races. And why wouldn’t it? Though Holy Fuck has been around for half a decade now, this is the first recording made with a consistent rhythm section, one that’s been in place for over two years, and which has been yanked all over the globe to play any gig, anywhere, anytime. That means that drummer Matt Schulz and bassist Matt McQuaid are often the engines on much of the material here, allowing principal sound sculptors Brian Borcherdt and Graham Walsh to vivisect their keyboards and unleash glorious noise and textures that they somehow shape into melodies. Without the rhythm section, much of this would be curious abstraction—which it sometimes is anyway, like on the Eno-ish soundwash of “1MD”—but with such a powerhouse acting as the anchor, and with less reliance on riffs as their earlier work, Holy Fuck hit upon a winning formula that is more visceral than dance music, more liberating than rock music, and more inviting than the avant-garde circuit bending that spawned their approach to improvisation in the first place. (May 13)

Download (iTunes, eMusic, amazon.com, puretracks.com): “Red Lights,” “Lucky,” “Stilettos”




Greg Keelor – Gunless OST (Warner)

The movie Gunless may play with clichés of Western movies, but its soundtrack embraces them fully—to great effect. Blue Rodeo’s Greg Keelor obviously marinated himself in Morricone before assembling this haunting score, which is teeming with twangy guitars ringing out whole-note chords and deep-tremolo leads, while a lone trumpet and a swelling string section emerge on the horizon. Keelor doesn’t at all sound like he’s stretching himself here; on the contrary, his melodies and arrangements (with Bryden Baird, who led Blue Rodeo’s short-lived horn section) range from the sweeping to the stark and simple—and always short, with most tracks barely beyond two minutes. (May 6)




LCD Soundsystem – This is Happening (EMI)

This is not happening. Not at all. LCD Soundsystem, one of the defining bands of the last decade in American music, is going out with a whimper. It doesn’t help that one song has a chorus admitting that “I all I want is your pity.” At one point bandleader James Murphy, who recently announced that he is retiring the band, mocks the burden of expectation, taunting: “You wanted a hit/ but that’s not what we do.”

That may be true—despite the fact that their 2005 single “Daft Punk is Playing At My House” was an anthem demarcating the crossover between rock and club music. But not only does a song like “Drunk Girls” sound like shameless pandering (for starters, it’s the only song less than five minutes long) from a band that was once refreshing and original, but This is Happening finds Murphy is exhausted and defeated, in peril of sad self-parody—which is hard to do seriously, for someone who was so self-deprecating in the first place, someone who debuted in 2002 with the lacerating hipster screed “Losing My Edge.” After achieving so much in the interim, Murphy sounds like he’s actualized his low self-esteem.

Every song sounds like the same two-chord vamp at different speeds and ever-so-slightly different keyboard patches—which, on paper, is not that different a descriptor for LCD’s finest moments. Yet far too much of this material sounds directly like inferior versions of older LCD material, and Murphy’s vocals are mostly to blame; some tracks would function fine as instrumentals (“Pow Pow,” “You Wanted a Hit”). Worst of all, it’s hard to imagine anyone who isn’t on heroin listening to all seven minutes of “Somebody’s Calling Me,” which manages to be sluggish, punishing, abrasive and dull—and more than a little bit like Iggy Pop’s “Nightclubbing” played at half speed.

It’s a sad swan song for a band that once synthesized so many of the best elements of underground dance music movements of the past 30 years. The party is definitely over. (May 27)

Download (iTunes, amazon.com, puretracks.com): Drunk Girls, Pow Pow, Dance Yourself Clean




The National – High Violet (XL)

The National’s singer Matt Berninger asks, in all earnesty, “What makes you think I enjoy being left to the flood?” Well, for starters, he seems to love it there, drowning in his mid-life crises, perpetually “stuck in New York and the rain’s coming down,” and moaning about how “I don’t want to get over you” on a song titled “Sorrow.”

That The National specialize in bummer rock is not a crime; they come from a long lineage of velvety, baritone-voiced men who cast their tales of decay in a certain elegance: Nick Cave, Interpol, Tindersticks, Black Heart Procession, even Bruce Springsteen on his darkest days (Bruce is a fan). And while the band is decent—though, with the exception of drummer Bryan Devendorf, rarely more than that—Berninger continually walks a line between the profound and the profoundly pointless, both lyrically and in his limited emotional range.

High Violet may sound nice at the end of a red-wine-soaked evening in the back of a cab driving past big-city lights, but in the bright light of day it rings more than a little hollow and a lot less glamorous. (May 27)

Download (iTunes, eMusic, puretracks.com, amazon.com): "Anyone’s Ghost," "Little Faith," "Runaway"




New Pornographers – Together (Last Gang)

The New Pornographers have always been pop music maximalists: more harmonies, more guitars, more keyboards and, most especially, more pop hooks in three minutes than many artists muster on an entire album. What’s changed over the years is how bandleader A.C. Newman balances his sugary musical diet: when is it too much?

On Together, the fifth New Pornographers albums, Newman continues to dream big while scaling back the intensity. Lead single “Your Hands (Together)” features a heavy Black Sabbath riff and huge harmonies worthy of ABBA; “Moves” has the best rock cello section since ELO; Neko Case shines on her two lead tracks and in prominent supporting roles; newest member Kathryn Calder steps up on the jaunty “Sweet Talk, Sweet Talk”; Dan Bejar chimes in with the kind of concise pop songs he no longer writes in his ever-expansive main project, Destroyer.

Other than Bejar’s wobbly waltz “Daughters of Sorrows,” Together is a rich, rewarding Pornographic experience, a welcome bounceback from the disappointing Challengers (2007), a continuation of their previous high point Twin Cinema (2005), and not a moment too soon to assert itself as the power pop gem of summer 2010. (May 13)

Download (zunior.com, iTunes, eMusic, puretracks.com, amazon.com): "Crash Years," "Your Hands (Together)," "My Shepherd"




Mike Patton – Mondo Cane (Ipecac)

Mike Patton is one of the most versatile vocalists in the world: he made his name with heavy metal in Faith No More, and has since hopped into klezmer with John Zorn, classic soundtracks, lounge lizardry, experimental noise, 20th century classical, trip-hop, hip-hop, straight up pop and—naturally, it would seem—a collaboration with Bjork. Here, on one of the few albums to bear his own name, he dives deep into Italian pop of the ’60 and ’70s, embracing its operatics and its orchestration in both their most shamelessly romantic and sinister sides—sometimes at the same time, as on the sugary sweet “Deep Down,” which concludes with a devilish chant.

For all his trickster tendencies to push the boundaries of whatever genre he’s working in, Patton is perfectly capable of playing it straight. He’s not playing this music to mess with it: this is a loving homage (and in part a personal one, as his ex-wife is Italian, and he lived in Bologna for many years). His voice is perfectly suited to this expressive material, and he nails every rolled “R” with panache. He only unleashes his heavy metal growl once, on the garage rocker “Urlo Negro”—which, true to character, is sandwiched between the two most gorgeous and lush tracks here.

Recorded live with a 40-piece orchestra, Mondo Cane is one of the most accessible discs in the Patton discography, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less deliciously rewarding or unique. (May 20)

Download (iTunes, eMusic): “Deep Down,” “Il Cielo In Una Stanza,” “L’Uomo Che Non Sapeva Amare”




Justin Rutledge – The Early Widows (Six Shooter)

Conventional wisdom has it that a songwriter standing alone with an acoustic guitar is driven to write stronger melodies, in the absence of additional ornamentation. Toronto’s Justin Rutledge defies said convention by strapping on an electric guitar, embracing a full band—including two drummers and a gospel choir—and coming up with the most compelling album of his career.

It could be the guiding hand of producer Hawksley Workman, whose stellar work here overshadows anything in his own discography recently. It could be the sympathetic arrangements by some of Toronto’s top studio musicians, including Blue Rodeo’s Bazil Donovan on bass, pedal steel whiz Burke Carroll (whose touches sound more like Pink Floyd than standard country shadings), and Vancouver violinist Jesse Zubot. If you believe what you read in the mainstream media, it might be the presence of novelist Michael Ondaatje, who co-writes one mere song here.

But ultimately, all of that is window dressing; all credit must go to Rutledge, who has stepped up his songwriting game considerably on this, his fourth album. If his previous work was pleasantly inoffensive CBC fare, The Early Widows is evocative and haunting, its melodies filling the cavernous spaces left by the sparse arrangements. Rutledge’s voice can tend toward the quavering sensitive balladeer, but for the most part he exhibits quiet strength, taking his own advice, perhaps, to “be a man about this”—especially when he holds his own with his backing gospel singers, who thankfully blend in perfectly rather than sounding like an exotic afterthought (although “Snowmen” does get into Pink Floyd’s “Great Gig in the Sky” territory). And although most of The Early Widows is drawn from dynamic, moody material, Rutledge also shines when he plays it straight on the country-ish “Miss Montgomery” and the rollicking rocker (and urban refugee anthem) “The Heart of a River.” (May 27)

Download (zunior.com, iTunes): “Be a Man,” “The Heart of a River,” “I Have Not Seen the Light”




The Sadies – Darker Circles (Outside)

It’s been three years since the extremely prolific Sadies put out a studio album, and if we are to read anything into the lyrics, there have been some dark days for the Good family. Brothers Travis and Dallas have never shied away from a good murder ballad, but Darker Circles faces different kind of demons: disappointment, decay, deference and the death of dreams. It’s not just the weighty subject matter that makes Darker Circles such a strong record. The delay between releases also suggests that they’ve spent more time living with and working on these songs; producer Gary Louris (Jayhawks) ensures nothing here is half-baked, or a mere excuse to showcase their instrumental dexterity. This time it sounds personal—and it’s a much better record because of it. (May 20)

Download (iTunes, eMusic, zunior.com, amazon.com): “Another Year Again,” “Choosing to Fly,” “Whispering Circles”