Secrets - Secret Wedding

Got secret married today. shhhhhh.

BYO Split Series: Alkaline Trio and One Man Army

Have you guys played the Emo Game? its a pretty awesome web based game, I think its still online. The game posited a rule of Emo: the rule of two. Supposedly Emo bands are so bitchy that they can only stand to be around each other for two albums, and if they stay together beyond that the albums start to blow totally. This delicate balance is maintained by all Emo people having special Emo ovaries. 

I was a huge Alkaline Trio fan. "Maybe I'll Catch Fire" and "From here To Infirmary" were like the only good things about my high-school years. I don’t know if they were ever really “Emo” per se, but they were getting big at around the time that everyone who was hard to classify and sang in any way about relationships was getting classified as such. I always thought they were only an Emo band because they got drunk at the hotel bar and wandered into the convention. They were this weird Old School Punk/ Emo hybrid that rocked really hard. While the rest of the Emo genre was either fleeing the label or becoming really mediocre pop-emo hybrids, Alkaline Trio spent two albums rocking exceptionally hard. They had an earlier album, "Goddamnit", that I hear is good but cant seem to find. Anyway, then the rule of three set in, and their album “Good Mourning” didn't rock very hard. They didn't become more Emo, but they became less rock. The result was lukewarm. 

So this album is a split CD made by Alkaline Trio and a band called One Man Army between “Good Mourning” and “Crimson.” You know how I spent all the last entry complaining about compilations? I have no problem with split CDs. Yeah, they often do not present music in its original context, but they usually contain new material that is organized to sound good in some way that allows you to sink your teeth into the material, while still introducing you to another band. The bands do not necessarily have anything to do with one another, but I can understand the need for promotional material and I’d rather get the chance to form my own opinion by listening to a split than be forced to watch an advertisement on YouTube.

This happens to be a particularly well done split. BYO Records are an independent punk label from southern California (where else) that is actively seeking to put portray punk in a more positive light. The split series was specifically intended, not to promote their label, but to create bonds between groups of fans in the punk scene. As opposed to other albums in the series, which are mostly covers, this album has only one cover (of a Damned song).  Some of the material did end up on later albums, but some of this is unique to the split.

So This is a good value if you like the music. How I feel about the music comes down to how I feel Alkaline trio does here, and after several listens I say they do well. On my first listen I was pretty afraid that being on a split would show up how much they do not rock as much. Instead this felt like more of a return to form. Maybe “Good Mourning” was a fluke. I had asked friends about their other albums and heard bad things, but after this I may check out “Agony & Irony,” if for no other reason than the Harvey Danger reference.

One Man Army were discovered by Billie Joe Armstrong and their first two albums were put out by his record label before they moved to BYO for one album, and then broke up. They are a pretty solid punk band. The vocal delivery is in the vein of Guttermouth: they singer has the oddly scratchy voice that still is well able to carry a tune. They manage to avoid the Republican sympathies, thank god. When combine with the fun delivery the lyrics come off as very good. Word play is somewhat limited, but they flow naturally and take interesting angles on everything from nothing being on TV to enjoying playing punk rock music. How SoCal punk can you get? TV party anyone?

I wasn’t sure how I felt about this for the first listen or two but it has really grown on me. I am definitely keeping this. If you like or liked Alkaline Trio I would recommend this, and I will probably be checking out other stuff by One Man Army.

Asobi Secsu - Hush

Ahh, another super melodic, post-rock, avantly anti-structuralist ethereal indie band. Asobi Seksu were once called Sportfuck. I like that name more, but to justify it they'd need to be a ball-stapling post-hardcore version of Hurrah Torpedo. Instead they are pretty well characterized as "dream pop." Sort of vaguely danceable beats are dreamily sung over by Yuki Chikudate, the lead singer for the most part. Even when she isnt doing lead vocals the singing is very ethereal. The music is fast enough to keep things interesting, but only just. The production values are slick, but that works pretty well here. Kind of like if Polyphonic Spree smoked a ton of weed and then acted as a backing band for the Vienna boy's choir. Or if Enya got lost and became interesting and listenable.

Oh god, why did I say that? Why did that happen? I was kind of really enjoying this but now, I dunno. That's maybe a bit far. I am super addicted to indie, but if I just like anything I hear that is played even half competently do I have any taste at all? what is the point of even doing these reviews if I like someone that reminds me of Enya? I mean, this is fun and enjoyable, but even Enya had that one fun song. But actually choosing to listen to Enya? Is that where indie is going?

Jesus its true. Ever since rock slipped, sad and pathetic in its rap-rock masturbatory explosions, and became enmeshed in self congratulatory artistic endeavors, that indie, awesome as it is, was going to lead us down the path that has already been tread by Jazz and classical. Popularity left behind, all that’s left is pretentious subcultural appreciation by people who never abandon the trappings of their youth culture long after they enter the workforce and begin to droop.

BUT WHAT CAN WE DO? Asobi Seksu are really good. Much like those other indie gods, Polyphonic Spree, they have an attractively persistent earnestness, dreamy tonality, and unmistakable talent that is nonetheless usually hidden under music that has the texture of fluffy white clouds. There are a few tracks that break this mold, and I am informed that their earlier work was more of a shoe gaze kind of thing. I also have to say, as an album this is very good. the songs have an order and a purpose that builds intensity and actually builds you interest as it goes on. this kind of attention to how the album as a whole hangs together is wonderful to see in the kids these days.

gah! This is where we are going, folks. We have gotten to the point as a subculture where I really like something that also reminds me of Enya. We are fucking boned. Might as well just start sleeping with your secretaries and dabbling with increasingly fear driven politics. Invest in a girdle for your man boobs and long hair. The end is neigh.

Alice In Chains - Alice In Chains

A good chunk of doing this blog is having to psychoanalyze myself. Did I dislike this album because of inherent issues, or is it something about my childhood? Was I just having a bad day? Conversely, do I like a band just because it is indie? All these are serious possibilities, as I often cant trust my first listen. This is one of those situations.

This album is self titled, but I am told it is referred to colloquially as “tripod” by fans due to the three legged dog and guitarist on the front and back of the jewel case. My research tells me this was the last album to be put out before the band (Staley) kind of self destructed. I have not really listened to Alice In Chains before, other than the singles, so this is kind of coming in at the end. So much is not how I feel about this album.

On my first listen I really didn’t care for this album. Thought the drumming is often fast, the music comes off as painfully slow and lethargic. I compared it to the sound of a depressed middle aged obese man going to the refrigerator in the middle of the night for a sandwich, then just eating a few slices of cold turkey rolled up and shambling back to bed. I also called them the Everclear of the Grunge world, as I felt they said yeah a lot. I think the song “So Close” made me say that. What was my problem? A lot of people I respect love this band, and some of their bigger singles are on this album, which seems to be well regarded in its own right. But when I listen to it all I hear is a pile of uninteresting sludge. Sludgy music.

I think my problem is that I have already heard almost all that Alice In Chains has to say. In high school, back when I still listened to the radio, I listened to New York’s rock station, which played what became an increasingly repetitive cycle of early Ozzy songs, Alice in Chains, and AC/DC. This would be punctuated by interesting songs that would not be repeated. Worse, they filled the spaces in between with Nu-metal. Whn not getting lost in masturbatory rap-rock fantasies, Nu-metal all sounds like the wannabe, no-talent offspring of Alice In Chains, a car battery, and a brick of balsa wood. There is a remarkable lack of virtuosity in the music. People often say that grunge is a combination of punk and metal. If so, Nu-metal has combined Punk's virtuosity with Metal's songwriting, and they all seem to draw from Alice IN Chains’ well. So though it is unfair for me to judge the originator of a genre by his or her spawn, I feel like I have heard every Alice in Chains single to the point of hatred.

I posted this rant on Google+. I have gotten comments from a few people that made me want to give the album another listen. It was pointed out that all their albums are different, though that doesn’t help me with this one. I was told that this is their heaviest album. People seemed to really like this album. So I gave it another listen.

There are some pretty fun moments here I guess. “Again,” with its backup singers, is kind of hilarious. I feel like the band is joking a bunch in here, which makes me more sympathetic. Some of the performances do seem more energetic on my second listen. So I can listen to this without feeling pure rage. But the music is still very conventionally structured with very few pop hooks and no cool metal moments. It is unremittingly heavy, but without movement the heaviness just sounds lazy or oppressive.

I have moments where I want heavy music. I can see myself wanting this sometimes. This leaves me not sure what to do with this. There are some interesting things here. I might be able to get into this with some repeated listening. But my problem with this is that I have already listened to it too much. I am pretty sure I will be selling this back. I know a lot of people like this band, and I can understand why, but I really do not like them.

Almost Famous: Undiscovered Modern Rock Hits.

I have a conflicted relationship with compilation albums. On the one hand they are a cheap way to introduce oneself to a bunch of new bands, and as a result have played a key role in the creation of genres since genre creation was a thing that happened. Since the advent of home recording, first on audio cassettes and now on CDs and playlists, amateur compilations have, in particular, had a subversive quality, and their consumption was often a direct attack upon the mainstream recording industry and the marketing machine that powers it. For indie record labels, a yearly compilation of their best acts was a key way of letting their fans know what was out there.

During the birth of the non-rock derived underground genres, Rap, Hip-Hop, Electronica and all its varied spawn, the mix tape was a key feature. Given the shady legal ground on which sample-heavy art-forms stand, those creating without the resources of a legal department often had no way to bring their creations to the public without staying under the legal radar. As modern fans of Danger Mouse and Girl Talk can attest, a lot of the best sample-based music is still created under the legal radar, since the current sampling legal structure tends to stifle creativity, though that is a discussion for another album.

So I understand the need for compilations, and I can appreciate much of what they have stood for historically. But they also go against everything I look for in an album. Often made cheaply with little attention payed even to the song order, comps give me nothing to sink my teeth into. One song is not enough to determine much about a band, a fact that explains a lot about why I do not listen to the radio anymore. Instead compilations flit from one artists to the next, often with a bare connection between them. There is often no explanation of why these artists were chosen for the album.

Today’s album was released by Lakeshore Records, the musical arm of Lakeshore Entertainement, that paragon of modern film culture that brought us such classics of our time as “The Runaway Bride” and the Underworld Franchise. I bought it because it has a song by Alien Crime Syndicate on it, and I thought maybe they might be ok. As sometimes happens at Princeton Record Exchange, the liner notes had been removed. If your expectations are low that is about how I felt about the album as soon as I got it home, thus my not listening to it for over a decade.

So this is an over-glossy compilation by a faux-independent record label that was created to self release sound tracks. Perhaps that is why they named this with a reference to the film, Almost Famous, even though this is not a soundtrack for that film, which was also not released by Lakeshore Entertainment. From what I can tell this album was created as a promo for the label, which sought to snooker people into buying it by including songs by more famous bands from other labels. It is kind of a sad day when you use an Alien Crime Syndicate song to trick someone. But that’s the level of sophistication we are dealing with here.

The funny thing is that the Alien Crime Syndicate song on here is way better than the stuff on their album. This makes me think I will have to buy some of their other albums. Still selling that piece of shit back. Also selling this one back (spoiler alert!). the music on here is. Well its not bad. It is by and large decent rock music. If you find this somewhere and you want decent rock music and it is in the one to two dollar range, go ahead. Nothing about this makes me want to look up any of these bands. Most of it is pretty middle of the road post-grunge, with one or two nice chick rock highlights. I will say that the music on here is better than most of what was on the radio in 2002 when this came out. But my cat had a run of explosive diarrhea that was more sonically pleasing than most of the radio in 2002.

AM Syndicate - Empire

Did you know they have a Grammy for album packaging? It is true, in fact the “crafts” section includes such gems as “Best Historical Album,” “Best Boxed or Special Limited Edition Package,” “Best Album Notes,” and “Best Recording Package.” In case you were wondering, “Best Historical Album” is an aware for the quality of packaging on the re-issue of an old album. Paul McCartney won this year for the re-issue of “Band on the Run.” I’m not sure, but I don’t think he had to beat up Rihanna to get it, which makes it a bit more legitimate than the R&B award.

So I kind of think that’s crazy. That they have awards for packaging and liner notes. I mean, that should be a design award, really. Though it is super important. And the designers work really hard and they should get recognition. And packaging is a key part of the listening experience for me. And I love reviewing the packaging. But cumon.

I guess I hate this because this is the Grammys, the award show that represents everything backwards and stupid about the recording industry. It defines shallowness and pointless glorification of those who are already past their primes. And also because it means that not only am I not the only person in the world quirky enough to care to pay attention to this stuff, it means that my compatriots are a bunch of balding old has-beens who, between looking at liner notes, get their jollies suing orphans for copyright infringement.

And the really silly thing is that packaging isn’t going to be important for long. It is a method of branding that only makes sense if you have a physical album. We may keep listening to albums for a while, but as digital formats replace physical ones that branding will make less and less sense. I think that’s a shame, mainly because of the lovely artworks that so often adorn these things, and because of my attachment to physical media, but why so completely ignore change by giving awards, at the Grammys, to album art designers?

            AM Syndicate’s album has some nice artwork on the front, kind of a watercolor painting of a wrought iron fence that is simultaneously gothic and childish, in the vein of an Edward Gorey work. It is cardboard and I am not sure I like that but I will discuss that in another entry because it is time to get to the music. Oh! That’s another reason the award pisses me off. So much about the Grammys serves to distract us from the quality of the music, almost like an admission that they don’t care. Focusing on packaging during a music award show just seems to rub the audience’s face in it.

Kind of like writing a page in a blog about an album and mentioning it once.

Right.

AM Syndicate’s “Empire” is in many ways a by-the-numbers indie album. They have lush arrangements that build a wall of sound featuring a very talented rhythm section that serves to provide focus and energy in what could otherwise be a musical mess. The lyrics are obscure and philosophical while simultaneously being playful and well constructed. The vocals are questionable at times. Lets say 40% of the times. They even have members that were at one time in other, better known acts. The bassist was in …And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead. The music has, at times, a similar feel to …AYWKUBTTOD, though the influences listed on the band’s myspace page (Blonde Redhead, Simon and Garfunkel, Lady Tron, Neutral Milk Hotel, Radiohead, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, and Bjork.) are probably as good a guide as I could come up with. Also the keyboardist is a hot asian chick named Golfball. Like, that’s her legal name. I wonder if that was a bet. Usually when I see weird names I think “hippie parents,” but in this case. I mean. Golfball? Not very hippie-ish. Maybe it was a breast size prediction. Cause like, Asians…no. no that’s not funny. I am sorry. That kind of mean spirited humor isn’t appropriate. If I had called them “bazoombas,” it might have been cute enough to be forgivable, but I did not. I apologize to you, my audience, for my tastelessness.

You know. If anyone got lost and read this by mistake.

            So, AM Syndicate is kind of by-the-numbers, and a little lighter on the hooks than others. Yesterday’s album, by the And/Ors, was kind of by the numbers as well, but was replete with pop hooks. AM Syndicate, not as much. But it is a fun listen, and there are some great performances here. The band is definitely more on the side of virtuosic indie, with some great solos that do not show the slavish attachment to blues that Jam Bands do. And though I have called them by-the-numbers, nothing about them seems forced or contrived. In fact the virtuosity and the lush arrangements keeps the music feeling vital and exciting. The vocals suck but we all cant be Pavarti.

            Bottom line, there is some great songwriting here, and a lot of talent. The music may not be a revelation, it will not change your life or let you meet Natalie Portman, but it is fun to listen to and really good music. I am keeping it, and if you are looking for a good indie band I would recommend you buy it.

The And/Ors - Will Self Destruct

Remember that period after Emo imploded, before Indie became all of Rock n Roll, when garage bands were all that were worth listening to on the radio? The And/Ors were the unfortunate spawn of that period in indie rock history. Formed from the wreckage of 90s era indie and Emo bands, the band knit its limbs together into a powerful creature, which got lost in a sandstorm and died yards from an oasis.

To put the story in less melodramatic terms, the And/Ors was kind of an indie super group, being composed of former members of Thee Psychic Hearts, Jejune, Interstate Ten, and Crash Worship, none of whom I had heard of but who I will look up. The album these guys put together is awesome. My knowledge of pre-2004 indie is pretty sketchy, but form what I do know these guys really sound like a transition point between the best of 90s era indie and what became 2004 era indie. I know that may be hard to envisage, given the blanket term tendency indie has. The album has noise jams and sound walls that would make Sonic Youth and Pavement proud. There are regular, well harmonized male/ female vocal pairings that are reminiscent of Sonic Youth and The Pixies. They have the kind of jangly guitars that I have heard in other less well known indie acts (and possibly pavement?). There are even elements that are kind of reminiscent of Dookie-era Green Day. The production values are appropriately lo-fi, and the songs are hook laden, melodic, rocking, and fun. They even have a hot chick bassist

So obviously this is an awesome album. I really liked it on my first listen. Unfortunately, because the band’s page was deleted I have had to do my research for this write up on the blogs of other critics, which is a terrible way to form ones own opinion, especially when the whole point of this exercise is that I have serious gaps in my musical knowledge. And now I have the doubts.

Do I really like them? Are they really derivative of other bands whose albums I haven’t listened to yet? Would I like them less if I had listened to the Screaming Dinosaurs or Female Jr.? What am I doing with my life? I am spending more than an hour per day writing up these reviews that no one reads, and if they did, all I would do is color their opinion, on bands whose music they will probably never find, with poorly founded opinions I am partially regurgitating from Wikipedia! While this does help me organize my thoughts on these bands, what good is that when the bands I am reviewing are so obscure they will never help me actually finish the connections in my historic image of recent rock history? Am I only even writing this blog because job hunting has turned up no real results, and I have a vague hope that I am screwed up and interesting enough to make money from writing bullshit opinions about music no one will ever hear?

Maybe this isn’t the most original album in existence, but, dammnit, it is a lot of fun and is kind of a missing link for the indie universe, but there is one thing about the And/Ors that pisses me off. All computer programs apparently chop the “And” off, and so they are listed as the “Ors” in my music library. That really bugs me. But otherwise I would recommend this album, and I am keeping my copy. Just do not try to write a review of it while in a spiral of self doubt and depression.

The Ataris - Look Forward to Failure EP

Let’s talk about pop punk. It is a classic story in the indie scene, of a genre’s explosive birth, its early years in obscurity, its development to a peak of cultural relevance, a fall from grace followed by a rediscovery that saw it rise to its highest pinnacle only to become corrupted by the mainstream and then burn out in a circle of mediocrity and self recrimination.

I tell people that if I have to call one genre my home base it is punk, but it is really pop punk. I have mentioned previously that The Offspring and Green Day are my two first albums. These two bands spearheaded an all too brief takeover of the pop charts by pop punk bands including Bad Religion, NOFX, and Rancid that represented my musical coming of age. When these bands fell off the top 40 so did I, and I spent the next four years or so listening alternately to Celtic music and investigating the classic punk roots of the bands that I so admired.

The Punk explosion could be said to be the primordial ooze of all indie music. The first two genus to emerge were Punk and New Wave. Punk, represented by bands like The Ramones, The Sex Pistols, and (my personal favorites) The Clash, had its roots in the art rock scenes of New York and London. It wasn’t long before the art school dropouts that represented the majority of the scene became a bit disenchanted with only screaming, and they joined up with others that were more or less weird for its own sake, and began the New Wave scene, particularly including bands like Television, DEVO, The Talking Heads, and Blondie. The New Wave scene gave birth to diverse genres such as No Wave, Synth Pop, Grunge, and indie (which was originally meant as a blanket term for all music outside the mainstream….and is still often used that way, but also describes a specific genre….which has no single sound….anyway). Punk seemingly went in all directions at once. Many of those in the genre eventually moved into New Wave and its descendents while others were utterly destroyed by early pop success. Those influenced by early punk went on to form the Hardcore scene, which claimed to be the only group to uphold the true ethos of punk, defining themselves largely against those punk acts that had achieved mainstream success, as well as popular music as a whole.

The Ramones alone amongst the punk scene neither feared popular success nor achieved it, instead toiling away in that odd middle class of the musical world where you work hard and make just enough money to support your drug habit, but never really make enough to claim “success” or “all the drugs.” Their music was more melodic than others in the genre and contained a generous helping of pop hooks. While the hardcore scene came to disdain pop hooks and eventually anything that did not give you an immediate headache, those who drew inspiration from the Ramones, including the Replacements and the Screeching Weasels, began to attract the label “pop punk.” While the scene was widespread, the Southern California area seemed to produce a disproportionate number of punk bands, and as such became a locus for the pop punk scene, and eventually it was from here that Green Day and The Offspring emerged.

What it was about them that particularly spoke to me is hard to say now. I had enjoyed previous music on the top 40 that would be classified as post-grunge, but they all lacked the clarity and complete cynical rage that the pop punk acts possessed. Though grunge and post-grunge have some great song writing and word-play, I really can’t think of an act from those genres that does angry poetry as well as the 1994 crop of pop punk acts, with as much energy, and with such good pop hooks while still retaining substance and relevance.

What really characterized the 90s was genre hopping, and so it wasn’t long before pop punk faded from the top 40. Being very poorly locked into the underground part of the genre (I was 10, and knew no punk rockers. The internet was my only friend, when it was invented.), I was forced to move on. In places where pop punk was popular, ska began to catch on, and New Jersey was such a place. In the meantime The Offspring, Green Day, and their ilk, continued releasing albums that I liked and no one else did. This kind of culminated in Green Day’s “Warning,” which I do like but which, well, kind of also sucks. Around the same time The Offspring released “Americana” which really sucked but which broke them back into the mainstream. The next year Blink-182 made their mainstream breakthrough and my world crumbled around my ears.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved Blink-182 at the time. But I also knew it was really shallow. I though that that was ok, because it was still punk, and at least they were fun and neither a boy band nor nu-metal (nor rap-rock like The Offspring increasingly are). But when their clones began to pop left and right and jock assholes began listening to them I knew something was seriously wrong.

I still love “Enema of the State,” it is good stupid fun and there is a bit more going on there than people realize, but there is a huge difference in writing quality between “Longview” and “What’s my Age Again.” Both are songs about being misunderstood 20-somethings that are too focused on sex and drugs and trying (and failing) to have a good time. But one has one of the finest bass lines ever written, while the other rapidly became as reviled as “Smoke on the Water” by Guitar Center employees.

But Blink-182 did not spring, as Athena, fully formed from Dexter Holland’s increasingly soulless brow. The scene that bore this thrice cursed spawn was undergoing a gradual evolution from the pop-punk of the early 90s, and was not yet entirely the cesspool that it became after Blink-182’s success. One of the occupants of this evolutionary mix, doomed yeast in the brewer’s mash of the pop punk scene, was The Ataris.

Formed in 1995, The Ataris spent the years before the pup punk explosion doing what all good indie musicians do, working hard at doing it themselves, writing their own music and touring like the iceman was on their heels. I bought this EP because I don’t own anything by the Ataris, I liked what I had heard, and I had been told that they are “The Thinking Man’s Blink-182.” It might also be said that they are the ones responsible for fusing pop-punk and emo, resulting in a five headed demon of unspeakable blandness and mediocrity. But that lay in the future.

This is pretty standard pop punk located halfway between anti-flag in their more stupid (fun) moments and Blink-182 in their more intelligent (good) moments. If you are looking for clever word play you should probably look elsewhere. There is some good songwriting here (for pop-punk songs), relying mostly on confessional songwriting techniques than the social commentary and sarcasm that I tend to prefer in my music. I would say that 50% of the songs manage to avoid outright cliché, which is probably a success for late 90s pop punk. As with most pop punk the saving grace here is the addictive amount of energy that is put into the music. “That Special Girl” in particular has some good energy, as does “Not A Worry in the World,” which also has the advantage of being angry. You know. Like a real punk song.

I really need to get an album before I make my decision on the Ataris. I will probably hold onto this EP until then, but I probably wouldn’t do the same if I were you.

Shit Cedric Bixler-Zavala says (At The Drive-In - Vaya)

At The Drive-In’s story is the mulch of a well tended indie garden. Formed in 1993, the band spent nearly ten years in the woods perfecting their post-hardcore sound, hopping between indie labels, until “Relationship of Command” came out in 2000. It may have been ten years of touring, or the pressure of fame, or the fact that Cedric Bixler-Zavala could finally afford all those drugs, but within a few months of “Relationship Of Command’s” release the band went on indefinite hiatus. Cedric Bixler-Zavala subsequently took all the blame upon himself, noting that the band was holding him back. Which is kind of like saying "Its my fault baby, I just think you're too damn ugly." In the aftermath of the breakup the mass of the band reformed as the painfully mediocre Sparta, while The Talent, in the form of Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodríguez-López (what’s with all the hyphens? Are hyphens like an STD now?), formed the pretentious, but occasionally brilliant The Mars Volta.

This spectacular self-destruction contains some key lessons, primarily that Cedric Bixler-Zavala is a hugely pretentious ass-hat and one should generally avoid getting addicted to acid if one can help it. Reading the Wikipedia pages relating to this story kind of makes me want to punch the guy in the face. The man plays post-hardcore (if you are being generous, screamo if you are not), and threw a hissy-fit when fans started moshing at a concert. While moshing was somewhat out of control during this period, screaming "You're a robot, you're a sheep!" at an Australian audience, and then bleating repeatedly, was probably, uh, ill advised. The man has also expressed annoyance at people who smoke, which makes me wonder if he was high on all the acid at the same time. Not that I think smoking in public is awesome, but sulky drug addicts are not generally appropriate vehicles for the delivery of messages on the dangers of substances to oneself and others when those substances led to multiple friend’s deaths and the scuttling of one’s own career.

So Cedric Bixler-Zavala is a dick, and that can kind of act as a brick to my ability to appreciate his music. Like I don’t care if artists are good or bad people if they make good music, but given that Cedric Bixler-Zavala turned out to be such a pretentious dick about every goddamn thing in his life, it makes me a bit more critical of the music. Am I really enjoying it? Is it fun? Does it make me want to smack this guy with a 2X4? Cedric Bixler-Zavala has, in particular, been ridiculed for using obscure imagery to hide his lack of writing ability. It’s a legitimate complaint. Given the political nature of Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s songs I kind of wish Cedric Bixler-Zavala was a bit clearer about what it is that Cedric Bixler-Zavala dislikes so much THIS WEEK, so that I might decide if I agree with Cedric Bixler-Zavala, or at least Wikipedia it. On the other hand, imagery is a completely legitimate poetic tool and if Cedric Bixler-Zavala wants to make it so no one will ever know which Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s cause is I’m not gonna argue. That’s Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s choice. And, really, I have to say, I actually love Cedric Bixler-Zavala’s lyrics.

They are delivered with great energy and power, at a good, staccato tempo. The imagery flows and even if you don’t know what it means, as a lifelong devotee of Attention Deficit Disorder I appreciate the courtesy in satisfying my limited attention span in a quick succession of images. It is also important to me that Cedric Bixler-Zavala at least tries to address political issues. The flip-side of the coin is that, like many political artworks, it is a fine line between addressing the issue with appropriate gravity, coming off as stubborn duckweed, and then just looking ridiculous, but I think Cedric Bixler-Zavala does a pretty good job.

“Vaya,” the album under discussion, is very similar stylistically to “Relationship of Command,” but is a bit less lush. In general the band is very musically talented, with the rhythm section being particularly talented. On this record you get the feeling that they purposefully tone down the energy of their performances to contrast with the vocals of Cedric Bixler-Zavala, which is a really nice touch. On “Relationship of Command” they do not hold back as much, and I also like that. That album is pretty insane. This one is also insane, but more lo-fi insane. More Charles Manson than Charles Taylor…or is it the other way around?

Anyway, if the term “Post-Hardcore” is appealing to you, you might like the album. It might be a bit easier to take for a first timer to At The Drive In than “Relationship of Command,” but maybe not. If you are looking for more like “Relationship” this is definitely a good buy, though it is definitely a distinct work.The musical performances are top notch and nuanced, and blend well the imagery-rich, politically charged lyrics. Its a keeper.

Askeleton - Angry Album or Psychic Songs

So I’m going to open this one by saying I like the album, and I’m keeping it. I think its necessary to reverse my usual writing formula,  where I say this at the end, because there seem to be a lot of negative reviews of this on the web and I have some negative criticisms myself. I do enjoy the album, but I’ll get to why in a bit.

            The album is decidedly lo-fi. I don’t consider that a sin, especially in indie, but it has become jarring as home recording equipment has become amazingly advanced in the last few years. This album came out in 2004, solidly in the period where some of these issues should have been easily solvable by a home producer.

            Issues like the vocals. It can be really upsetting when the vocals are too far forward in a mix. It is like having a guy be three inches from your face. As with guys who talk too close to your face, it is made much worse when this is accompanied by an extremely slow, monotone delivery of none-to vital information. It would be different if the singer was screaming an impassioned plea for us to stop cutting down Mother Nature’s afro.

For example.

In that case it would provide emotional impact. But imagine if postal service had put the vocals heavily above the other instrumentation, and you’ll have a good idea what this is like. Except he isn’t singing about impending global warming or the nature of love. There was one song where he was talking about parrot training. This is of course a metaphor, but the experience is very much like the aforementioned unpleasant person at a party who insists on invading your personal space to discuss something that is not very interesting.

            Once you get past the unfortunate vocal mix you find that the lyrics are pretty good, with some nice wordplay. The music is clever and spare indie techno. Think Postal Service giving a live performance but they forgot to bring the second thumb stick with the other half of their samples. The effect, especially when combine with the somewhat airy delivery of the vocals, is kind of charming and childish. This has been criticized by some of the other critics out there as a weakness, or evidence of mediocrity. Given that this is called “The Angry Album” and that most of the lyrics are very bitter I’d think it obvious that the musical tone is an exercise in sarcasm, or “irony” as the indie kids call it. If the music is missing anything it is obvious pop-hooks towards the beginning of the album. The childish innocence of the music makes the lack palatable and the second half of the album starts to make up for it a bit.

            Overall, The Angry Album uses a minimalistic indie electronic to very good effect. By minimalizing the composition the listener is encouraged to focus on the song writing that is present, and that is good. The production is not as good, and given the minimalism these issues are magnified. The overall effect is a good, enjoyable album. It was never going to win any awards but I will be holding on to it.

So get your own damn copy.

Arto Lindsay - Noon Chill

Arto Lindsay was a key figure in the No Wave scene due to his membership in seminal No Wave band DNA, though that is not why I bought this and this is not a No Wave record. Growing up in Brazil during the Tropicália movement, Lindsay has moved on from his No Wave days in a gradually more jazz oriented movement, first with The Lounge Lizards and then with his solo work. Again, not why I bought the album. A talented producer, Lindsay has begun to produce albums by some of the Brazilian artists who inspire him, including Caetano Veloso, Vinicius Cantuária, Gal Costa, and Carlinhos Brown. But I learned all this from his website. I bought this album because I thought his name was pronounced like seminal Star Wars Character R2-D2. I am a fucking idiot.

The music is heavily influenced by the Bosa Nova music of his youth, but with heavy electronic influences. The mix is pleasant and hypnotic, like a kind of latino cool-jazz version of Radiohead. I don’t know if it is the standard release method but the album I have is in a non-conventional jewel case. Instead of the brittle clear material we are used to this plastic is the heavy gage rubber-type material we are more familiar seeing in kid’s toys.

Part of what attracted me to this was the fact that Lindsay, a scrawny, balding, middle aged man, appears on the front cover soaking wet in nothing but a snorkel. On the internal photographs he is in a button up, long sleeve green shirt, tucked into his jeans which are hiked up to his belly button, and really ugly tortoise shell glasses of the type that were very popular in the 80s and early 90s but which were already inexcusable by the album’s 1997 release date. On the back cover there is a silhouette of a man with an obvious erection. This isn’t bad album art design. It is downright horrific. I basically had to see what the music was like.

So what is it like? I am trying very hard to be vicious in my reviews but any time I concentrate on the music my mind is forced, against its will, to think about other things. It is like the album has a will of its own and is exercising self preservation. I don’t know that I will ever seek this alum out for casual listening, but it is an interesting work, with some very talented performances and some great songwriting. I can see myself listening to this in the bath while I pursue my latest 900 page history of genocide in Africa. I could use a bath. I’ve been pretty stressed out this week, what with trying to find my pace working on the blog and worrying about my persistent lack of employment. A nice hto bath woulc be good for me, and anyway it is like 4:30 and I haven’t showered yet. That’ll be nice. I’m going to…I’m…I’M DOING IT AGAIN! THIS ALBUM IS EVIL! RUN! RUN WHILE YOU CAN THIS WILL EAT YOUR MIIIIIyyyy my I can have some nice tea while I while away the time. I did just buy some nice green tea and I have been hitting the white tea rather hard. It would be a nice change.

Ape Has Killed Ape - Acid Reflux

In the original run of The Planet of the Apes, astronaut George Taylor discovers a society of intelligent apes who hunt humanity for sport. While the first movie deals primarily with the nature of humanity and cruelty towards animals, the subsequent films in the series took the point of view of the apes in their struggle against humanity, the moral heart of the society crystallizing around the admonition “Ape must not kill ape.” When, in the final movie, the antagonist ape is revealed to have killed the protagonist ape’s son, the other apes begin sadly chanting “ape has killed ape,” in recognition that their moral superiority had been lost. The fact that these latter entries in the series are atrociously filled and acted, even in comparison to the original, has only increased their cachet in MST3K loving circles

The band, Ape has Killed Ape, are obviously intent upon claiming a sarcastic moral superiority that only hipsters will understand. Relying on Theremins, over-processed distortion effects, and very low quality control, the music is angry, sarcastic, and grating. The vocals are snarled in a sardonically chanted spoken word akin to The New Lou Reeds, and is really fucking awesome. Actually, I would say these guys sound like a really lazy New Lou Reeds, being backed by Robby the Robot as dj. I don't mean they are backed by cute bleeps and bloops, I mean it sounds like the dj is a giant metal prop with only three fingers being manipulated by remote control.

Apparently these guys got some hype going in the indie scene at once point, whatever, this album rocks. I am currently listening to track 8: The Land of the Lost, which contains a sax solo of the damned, played in an extended bridge over a driving rhythm section. It goes on so long that you begin to wonder if the rest of the song has gone off to angrily sulk. The rhythm section is good on this album in general. The drumming is exceptionally tribal and simultaneously minimalist. It insists on its own importance in the mix, despite a persistent simplicity. And there are some pretty awesome bass lines.

So this is noise rock. If you do not like noise rock I can sympathize, and you may want to avoid this, but this is a special noise. Though chaotic, there is a clarity in the different parts here that lets the merits of each instrument involved be appreciated, even if it is what sounds like a loop of someone blowing on a bottle. Relatively conventional song structures hold the whole mess together and make the whole listenable rather than off-putting. If I were you I would buy this. If I were your sister I would also buy this.

And then be ugly.

OH.

Antigone Rising - 's Traveling Circus

I really wanted to like Antigone Rising. They have a song about New Jersey, for one thing, and it is pro-Jersey, which is a nice change. They are also a feminist rock band that has historically financed their tours and album recordings through fan donations. That is super cool. The album art is also really fun. Very cartoon-y, and despite being a cardboard case the album also manages to convey a lot of information, including little phrases hinting at the stories behind the songs.

            This is also a live album, which I usually view as a minus, but in this case the mix is good and the band’s energy provides the sense of purpose that compilation style albums, like live recordings, can sometimes lack. The album was recorded in Troy, New York, of all places, so either Troy is a great rock town or the band is good live. So that’s pretty cool.

            The music, the music. Obviously the music is key and that where I don’t know what to do with this. They are kind of Melissa Etheridge-y? Etheridgeish? Etheridge-like. Anyway. They mostly concentrate on a classic rock sound with some decent hooks. It isn’t anything I really haven’t heard before. A good portion of their lyrics are a little lame, but more like “Meh. Live Journal” lame rather than hilariously bad. I can’t say they are a bad band, but they are appallingly close to Jam Band territory.  In fact I spend most of my time when listening to this album in trying to figure out if the quality pop hooks outweigh the Jam Band elements. Nonetheless I keep going back and forth on whether or not to sell it. Listening to it a few times for this review has it kind of growing on me, but I think I would rather make room in my music collection for the chick-rock people Antigone Rising is trying so hard to emulate. If they are coming to your town they might be worth checking out, but unless you are really into classic rock or chick rock I really wouldn’t seek this album out. Do with that what you will.

Animal Collective - Feels

I really don’t know how to even start talking about “Feels.” First off I feel like some representative of indie culture on the internet is going to slap me silly for not listening to it before now, though I suppose I have but I haven’t really absorbed it. It came out in 2005 to universal acclaim, at least in indie circles. Reviewing it now is kind of like reviewing Citizen Kane. If I say I like it I’m probably not saying anything new and if I dislike it I run the risk of being contrarian. Which I’m not against I guess but I do like this album. So.

Part of the issue is that I just completely missed Animal Collective when it was cool to be getting into them. I mean, 2004-5, that was when you were supposed to discover these weird, rococo indie pop superstars with their weird instrumentation and energetic song writing and happy attitudes that covered over a deep, despairing angst. And I did, but there were just so many of them, all at once. There were a few years where I would print off Jeff Jacques’ year end list and every one would be something dozens of people had been clamoring for me to get. So “Feels” just slipped by.

It doesn’t help that they are hard to "get," even for an indie band. “Feels” consists of this series of songs that sound more like happy crowd chants over sounding clocks than songs. The lyrics are hard to discern but they almost don’t matter. The album is almost more digestible as really esoteric mood music. This has a lot to do with the way the album was recorded, including tuning all the instruments to a piano that hadn’t been tuned in like 20 years. Though I usually hold that kind of trickery in contempt, it does create cool effects, and since this album is more atmospheric than structured it definitely works. The album art is really pretty, though its in one of those cardboard cases that are so fashionable now that it hurts. The art itself consists of collages cut from old children’s books, and then sketched over so it looks like there is either blood or vomit dribbling from various mouths. Super trendy.

I have complaints about this album, but they mostly relate to things going on outside the album. Like how everyone is using these cardboard cases now and I am not sure I like it. More concrete is that I am not sure how I feel about how avante guard this is. Clearly those composing this album were making a conscious attempt to deconstruct traditional verse chorus song writing, and subsume the verses in a constant chorus. That’s pretty cool. But is it just a bit too clever? I mean, I just reviewed the Angry Samoans, sometimes comfortable dumb rock is really fun. But then just as I am not going to listen to the Angry Samoans 24/7, I don’t need to listen to “Feels” to the exclusion of traditionally structured music. It just makes a pleasant addition to the more expected entries in my musical life.

As such it will retain a place in my record collection. I do enjoy the album, though I will definitely need to be in an atmospheric mood to enjoy it. If you are into more experimental indie music you should probably check this out, though of course you probably already have it. If you don’t usually listen to more experimental stuff, well, this is very experimental. It probably won’t change your mind.  

Angry Samoans - The Unboxed Set

The Angry Samoans rock fucking hardcore. Or do they fucking rock hardcore? Either way, they were one of the first American punk bands, and all their recorded stuff is presented in this one CD for your listening pleasure. Now, this may not be your bag, but this kind of punk is basically home base for me. In fact it is kind of silly that I hadn’t fully listened to this album before. I suppose I got distracted.

Anyway, the album contains 43 tracks, some of which are different versions of the same song. Most songs clock in at around a minute and that is as it should be. The music is fast and loud, the lyrics are offensive, and flippantly vulgar (the extremely homo-erotic “They Saved Hitler’s Cock” is a personal favorite). Oddly enough, the production values are for the most part pretty good, which makes the songs much easier to love than the majority of Black Flag songs. The liner notes are great, with pictures of the various album covers and a very funny retrospective on the band by guitarist Gregg Turner, who concludes by cursing out his former band mates.

I’m not sure why the Angry Samoans aren’t more famous in punk circles. They were around for ten years and made a lot of connections – The Offspring, Greenday, and the Pogues opened for them at various points and the Bosstones covered one of their most famous songs, “Lights Out.” I suppose they didn’t do anything others weren’t also doing, and were not covering a variety of musical territories. Personally, I like the territory they inhabited and think they inhabited it particularly well. If you have even a passing fondness for punk this would be a great album to check out.

All Mighty Senators - Music is Big Buisiness

Every now and then bands come along that create a genre out of almost nothing. Jimmie’s Chicken Shack is such a band. During the early 90’s, when Grunge was replacing Hair Metal and New Wave on the charts, only making room for nascent Rap and R&B acts, the band built themselves into a major underground success based entirely on incessant touring, networking, and founding their own record label, Fowl Records. The record label proceeded to sign like minded acts and built itself into a powerhouse within the mid-Atlantic region, replacing Discord as the label people in the area cared about and no one else did. Musically the acts had nothing in common. All they shared was work ethic.

So that’s pretty cool. This review isn’t about Jimmie’s Chicken Shack, which I do hope to get to at some point (probably in the J boxes), but it is about the All Mighty Senators, who were the number two band on Fowl Records. Given that Jimmie’s Chicken Shack, and thus Fowl Records, has dropped back into relative obscurity, I felt the intro was necessary, though it says nothing about what the All Mighty Senators sound like. That sound is good. I’ma get back to that later though.

I bought this album undoubtedly because of the name. In particular the fact that a band with a black front man named themselves after the main, all white, nemesis of the Globe Trotters. That tickled me in a special place. The fact that two of the three remaining members looked like the most painfully inbred hicks I had ever seen on record packaging was another factor. One of these men appears to have no teeth. And the entire band is dressed in what can only be described as horribly sleazy lounge/cowboy attire. On the back of the jewel case they are dressed in slightly different attire, with the front man dressed as a luchadore.

The music kicks ass from the beginning, though they take some jammy detours. I’m not really sure how to describe it without reference to Fishbone, but said band represents such insane diversity of sound as to render comparisons somewhat moot. There is a strong funk influence, but with a hard driving rock sensibility. All the music has a definite can do feeling, almost to a pop-punk level, but this positivity is grounded in a well intentioned rage or energy. I suppose what saves the band from the Jam dungeon is the fact that they play with way too much energy to get boring, very much a Ska sensibility. Then there are the lyrics.

I love their lyrics. Most are in some way stupid. But in a really unique way. I suppose I will illustrate with a sample of my current favorite song, “Mother Nature’s Afro.”

We’re cutting holes

In mother nature’s afro

And if we keep letting our mother go bald

There will be no supper tonight

The burger clown’s gonna cut them all down you can

Get that wrapped up to go…sticks

The song proceeds to blame McDonalds for the evils of deforestation, and extol the virtues of hemp paper production. Part of me if probably making fun of them for refusing to acknowledge the complexity of deforestation, particularly that hardwood rainforest trees are not being processed into paper, and therefore hemp production would not really…you get the idea. On the other hand, they are so hilariously earnest and hey, at least they are trying to make a political point. Modern indie seems terrified of discussing anything other than feelings.

Other songs on this album discuss important issues like booty being fresh, and the relative place of Chuck Norris and Jackie Chan in the pantheon of Kung Fu masters. So essentially this album, and as far as I can tell this entire band, have crystallized the entire 90s hippie liberal ethos into one album that combines a psychotic variety of styles (Including old school rap and heavy metal. Missed those before.) with a really blatant disinterest in justifying themselves for anything other than having fun.

I approve.

Find this album. Buy this album. Ruin this album.

Alien Crime Syndicate - XL From Coast To Coast

Alien Crime Syndicate has some pretty snazzy packaging, which as far as I can tell is why I bought the album. The four band members are on the cover in a gray scale picture on a yellow background with six white dots behind them. Its kind of a modernist aesthetic. The band members look vaguely Asian so I may have thought it was some kind of J-pop album. Had I checked the copyright I would have noted that these guys were on a major label and had come out at the same time as Smash Mouth, which made these kinds of minimalist jet age covers very in vogue.

If this album has a theme it is that these guys were talented song writers trying to get famous during the era of Sugar Ray and Smash Mouth. People are going for overly simplistic, rock influenced pop songs with an edge, so that is what the band wrote and put on the album. That’s kind of sad. The opening track “Ozzy” pretty much comes out and just begs the listener to like them:

“Please just lift up your hands if you like me

If you like Ozzy or the Motley Cru”

The second song then includes some pretty nice punk/new wave influenced synth solos, very much in the vein of Smash Mouth.

            I do like Smash Mouth’s first few albums, and I’ve been known to sing along to a Sugar Ray song when I thought no one was looking, so I’m not trying to pull the indie kid holier than thou thing here. It just feels like these guys are not at all happy with doing this. The songs are so overly thought out and by the numbers it hurts. Not because they are cliché, though they certainly have cliché moments. Its just that one really gets the feeling that these are not the songs the band wanted.

            Alien Crime Syndicate formed in LA in 1997 and soon moved to Seattle, where their first two albums were highly acclaimed in the scene but failed to break radio. The band broke up in 2005 after another album was lost in the indie upheaval of 2004. The members all joined well regarded indie bands, including Vendetta Red and The Long Winters. I’m kind of sympathetic to these obviously talented musicians and song writers but I wonder if, after the indie thing dies away, they are all going to go join Foster the People-style bands. Or maybe strap on some leiderhosen if Polka-punk is the next big thing in the underground.

            But all this is background information. This album dies on two key aspects of the music: the overly polished production of the songs and the freaking god-awful vocals. Given the clear goals of this project the first aspect I can understand, though it really dates the project. When I listen to the music on this album I could just as easily be listening to Oleander’s “Unwind.” But that would be ok it was the only issue. Hell, I still listen to Oleander from time to time; they make a good use of melody, and so do Alien Crime Syndicate. But the lead vocalist of Alien Crime Syndicate cant hold a tune. It is fucking inexplicable. I really do not understand how an album this glossy got to press with vocals this out of key, especially since the songs depend on vocal harmonies for their structure. The only think I can think of is that this is some kind of attempt to give the music “edge.” It certainly puts my teeth on edge. It’s like if the Beatles added a fifth member for Abbey Road who was credited as the “chalk-board scratch-enist.” Or if the Shins decided to change their sound by pissing on the tapes after recording. Or if fucking Peter Paul and Mary took a dump on your chest.

Like, did this guy record the vocals without turning on the monitors? I know the album was self produced, but did no other band members think to go “Joe, you are flat on…on all the tracks. There is not a single track in which you are really in tune the entire time and…its kind of bad? Could we just…redo the vocals? Or maybe rewrite the songs so you aren’t outside your range? Or something?”

So I guess what I’m saying is that I’ll be selling this one back to the Record Exchange, but I will try to buy another Alien Crime Syndicate album to see if this was just this album or what. Part of me feels bad for these guys, absolutely. But my god, dude. Your vocals are so bad I need to shower after listening to your album.  

Alan and the Alligators - Reptile Rock

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

There is a part of me that will always want to like Jam Bands. They do a lot of things that I like in music in that they incorporate elements from disparate genres, they respect musical skill, and create positive music that makes reality seem less painful than it actually is. If there is another reason for music I usually don’t want to hear about it. That said they do a lot that pisses me the fuck off. The extended, self congratulatory soloing is usually what ends up driving me away. The average Jam song contains two minutes of lyrics and nineteen minutes of soloing, generally consisting of a gentle, major key masturbation that builds to thirty more seconds of lyrics and tie-dye spooge.

At a more basic level there is the odd paradox of a genre that prides itself on openness to multiple genres that simultaneously acts as if popular music stopped in 1968. Though blues, jazz, reggae, even funk and fucking acapella make their marks, Punk, metal, electronica, all might as well not have ever existed as far as Jam Bands are concerned. This leads to an impression that the bands are afraid of admitting the existence of anything dark or gritty in the world. Though many bands, particularly Phish, actually deal very directly with issues of political corruption and murder, the wider genre, as is so often the case, fails miserably to live up to the more subtle messages of their forbearers.

I suppose this is a really good time to discuss the history of the genre. The first Jam Band was the Grateful Dead, whose fans would often follow the band around. In the 80s the band Phish began attracting some of these fans to their concerts, and this core of groupies began to also follow other like minded bands around. As a result, what had been the personal style of one band within the psychedelic rock scene was expanded to the point of stereotype, and began to represent a full genre to itself. This process is not unique, but may be a core element of what makes genres form. Rock, Ska, even Punk have points where it could be argued all actors were being inspired by one particularly successful or influential actor.

The downside of this process is that the average actor in a given genre fails to achieve the artistic punch of their heroes. The Grateful Dead discuss directly the negative aspects of drug culture, modernity, and humanity itself, in addition to a number of uplifting songs. The stereotype of a Jam Band Fan being someone who is deeply involved in the drug culture, the average jam band seems to have blinders in relation to its dark sides, and the songs tend to avoid insolvable problems in favor of long solos that feature a guy demonstrating his prowess at tapping.

As a person who consumes music it becomes necessary to find a way to deal with a genre on its own terms, or else become the kind of person who writes off entire genres as a rule. I really hate Jam Bands, but I also cannot justify hating all Jam Bands. Phish and the Grateful Dead have some really great moments, and I want to think that some of those they inspired have some talent in song writing as well as musical masturbation.

Oh hey. Did I already make a masturbation joke? Hmm. Maybe I should switch it up.

Phish and the Grateful Dead have some really great moments, and I want to think that some of those they inspired have some talent in song writing as well as musical circle-jerks. Indeed my faith has been rewarded on occasion. Dispatch is a pretty famous Jam Band that I do not particularly care for. During the 2004 election their main song writer formed what amounted to a Jam-Punk hybrid called State Radio. “The Flag Of The Shriners” EP is actually one of the most brilliant moments of that brilliant year. The subsequent albums sucked, unfortunately, but that one EP is worth finding and buying.

Alan and the Alligators are no State Radio. This is from their web site:

Alan and The Alligators is a three-piece Boston area band providing live entertainment since 1989 and is one of New England’s best bands for any event. Audiences appreciate our versatility, full sound, and talent for playing popular cover songs and catchy, danceable original songs. Our exciting performance style and expert musicianship has made us a popular live act. We love to play!

Our music is a mix of original and cover rock, funk, blues, R&B, dance, jazz, pop, jam band, folk music and other assorted fun music.  We can augment our typical three-piece instrumentation to be a four-, five-, or six-piece band by adding keyboards, second guitar, or saxophone.

They go on to discuss the variety of Bat Mitzvas and car shows they have played over the years.

            First off I would not have pegged these guys as a Boston band. Not even as a “Boston Area” band (their contact info says concord, though they also list themselves as Boston-Worcester). They sing everything with a rather noticeable southern twang that is all too common to mediocre Jams Bands. It’s as if everyone in a certain generation decided that the only genuine American experience is in the south or west. The album came out in 2000, but it is pretty clear that they used a stock photo of the band from the arly 90s for the album photos. I mean, no one wears their hair like 80s metal bands anymore right?

Right?

The album actually gave me some pause. This isn’t like life changing but it is feel good music and god knows I could use something to feel good about in my life. And hell, in the thank you section one of them thanks his students. That’s pretty sweet, and kind of reminds me of my old bass teacher. So I am not going to say they are bad. If you are into Jam Bands they are totally going to make you happy. They are musically very talented and I particularly give props to their bassist for some pretty sweet lines. But my god. Guys. Between 1983 and 1988 the CIA was selling heavy weapons to Iranian Fundamentalists in order to buy drugs from Nicaraguan Fascists and sell it in the inner city of the United States, they were caught and tried on live TV and let off because Ollie North said he did it for his country. Doesn’t that PISS YOU OFF? Can I get ANY KIND OF RECOGNITION THAT THE WORLD KIND OF SUCKS?

Also Alan? We don’t care that you can tap. Move on.

Action Figure Party

When I say “rock and jazz fusion” I will forgive you for running for the hills. The blends have over the years been occasionally brilliant, but more often been too simple to be good jazz and too slow to be good rock. Also fucking pretentious as hell. So, so pretentious. And when it isn’t pretentious, it is a jam band, which is a fate worse than death. 2001’s Action Figure Party treads seriously close to all three of those danger zones. The music is largely instrumental, which is kind of a pretentious thing to do. It makes you focus on the music, which can at time stray dangerously into the “look at me! I am going up and down with my note-makers!” territory frequented by jam band musicians.

And yet…and yet. This is a pretty fun little album. The tempo is fast, drawing more from bebop than the cool jazz that is in such cache among the boring yuppie white men that frequent the jazz clubs that are replacing good music venues in America’s city centers. So that is pretty cool. The album is also very much a dub project. Sean Lennon manned the turntables on this album and I have to say I think he did an amazing job. To a great extent it is the dub aspect of this album that keeps it out of jam territory. The final effect is as if they took the recordings from the studio and handed it off to a member of the Avalanches for the final cut.

Oh hey, did I just say Sean Lennon? Of yeah, he’s not the only celebrity guest. In fact the guest musician list is kind of a who’s who of the 2001 era L.A. Music Scene. See, Greg Kurstin, the main musician and songwriter here, is a high power studio musician who had just done substantial work on The Red Hot Chili Pepper’s Californication. When he put this pet project together in the wake of his personal band’s demise, people came from miles around. The full list is too long for me to care to copy it, but I basically bought the album because Flea is in the list and I was going through a hero-worshiping phase of my bass practice. His track is pretty fucking badass. Or at least the bass part is. The rest of it kind of struggles to keep up. Ah well. You’ll find a good band one day, Flea, I’m sure of it.

The album art is a key aspect of how I feel about any album, and it has been increasingly neglected by artists. This album is pretty minimal. Due to the long list of guests, much of the booklet is taking up with listing the tracks and noting who played what when. The lyrics for the two songs so blessed are included, which is a plus, and there are some funny pictures of action figures dancing on a roof. Behind the disc tray there is a really douchey picture of Greg Kurstin in a black turtle neck sweater with a tiny keyboard and the thank-yous section. It includes a line thanking Bud “For believing in this vision” which cements the fact that I hate the word “vision” and anyone who uses it. Except for Ophthalmologists.

Anyway, I would recommend this album if you find it somewhere, but it’s probably not worth seeking it out unless you are a jazz fan or think you might be a jazz fan. If you are I would say this is a pretty exciting take on the genre. For the rest of us I would note that jazz has the emotional depth of a damp cloth, and this isn’t really any different. On the other hand I really enjoyed my first listen, and while my second pass has been more critical, the music is really happy and left me in a good mood, which is more than I can say for the blind rage jam bands leave me with.

Tune in tomorrow as I review a jam band.

On: The Care And Feeding Of A Record Collection

My first album was actually two albums. Green Day’s Dookie, and The Offspring’s Smash. Since my mother bought me those first CDs at CD World, my music collection has grown substantially, and in a variety of formats. I have CDs, MP3s, and even the records referenced in the title. This music charts many many stages of my life, from my start listening to mid 90s top 40, to my Celtic Punk phase, to my current indie music obsession. It is obviously very personal and important to me, thus my starting a music blog. But I Think in the new Digital Age I need to justify having one at all.

This is a subject covered by most music enthusiasts and critics at some point, and I think the mixed quality and ubiquitous defensiveness is telling. The recording industry is in serious trouble, and this trouble is based on their inability to quickly adapt to the changing formats through which we consume music. The funny thing about this is that they themselves sparked the format shift. One feature of high capitalism is that marketing will tell us we need a new piece of technology to replace something that already does its job. So with the CD and the record, and for over a decade the record industry made a killing as everyone replaced their records with new, shiny CDs. Just as this cash cow dried up, MP3s came along and blew the whole thing up in their face. Since CDs were a digital format, it is as easy as sneezing to rip CDs to MP3s, and the Great Downloading Wars began.

MP3s have all the advantages of accessibility and convenience and are essentially free. So why do I continue to collect albums? Critics have discussed things like the “album” continuing to be a valid medium because it creates digestible chunks of music. I think this is a valid argument but it only hints at a deeper issue. We all learned to consume music in a specific way, and the format is key to that method. When I buy a cd, I take it home, rip open the package and put it on. While I listen to it for the first time, I peruse the album art, and try to glean information about the songs and the artists. I am sure teenagers of today listen to MP3s whilst on the internet, one tab on Wikipedia and another on a lyrics page. I have not yet adapted fully to the digital age, and so I am going to need my physical representation of my media for some time to come. So that is one aspect.

At a more basic level, however, music has long represented a quest for authenticity for me. When I first began listening to music it was because all my friends did it. It was clear that they knew something that I didn’t, and so I started listening to popular music seriously, attempting to deduce what. It became clear that the music of the time, the aforementioned Green Day and Offspring, The Smashing Pumpkins, and the litany of post grunge bands, had some pretty heavy philosophical insights to convey to little suburban me. As I became more emotionally invested in the music I found that some music was clearly bad and some good, and as I searched for more good music I would try to find connections and influences. I learned about the great musical movements of the past, but found they meant nothing if I did not delve into them, actually listen to the music, and connect it all chronologically. And all the time was the search within the music for some truth that would help me understand life, reality, and the secret of everything.

I am sure it is open to question as to whether there is anything to find in music approaching such a goal. Philosophers of old looked down upon song as a method of delivering philosophical insight, as the emotional punch of the backing music has nothing to do with truth and everything to do with manipulation of cultural norms and artistic expectations. Nonetheless, my project of trying to find everything good in music continues, complicated my discovery that the record industry is evil and most of the good stuff will never be popular.

I have made several attempts to organize the chaos of my musical collection. These attempts have thus far been failures because of my generally scatterbrained and lazy ADD addled self. My lifestyle also played a part. Living between the houses of divorced parents, my CDs had to be in carrying cases if I wanted them with me. Once I left for college it continued to be convenient to store this way, since every year I had to move. I have been living in a somewhat stable fashion, however, for three years with a wonderful woman who happens to be clinically OCD and as patient as the day is long. After several years of looking on with quiet desperation at the creeping horror that was my CD collection, she suggested a method of organization that suddenly made sense. I purchased a large number of CD boxes, each of which will hold around 30 jewel cases (if you put them in a book it ruins the experience!), and has a label incorporated into the front. I can mark this label with a letter of the alphabet, allowing for the flexible storage of the CDs on shelves or in boxes that will maintain the alphabetization. Also, as I now have access to an MP3 player, I can rip the CDs and not mess with the physical copy unless I have leisure time to enjoy the liner art, which helps maintain the organization. This process revealed a rather major flaw in my CD collection. Namely, that in any 30 CD selections I have probably not listened to 8-10 of the CDs.

There are two reasons for this. First is that my relatives know I like CDs and, despite a yearly assurance that I have a wish list available, I keep receiving boxes of random CDs. The second reason is that I tend to buy CDs…at random. There are a number of fine establishments in this country of ours that sell used CDs very cheaply, and cheapest of these is the Princeton Record Exchange, which sells CDs for as low as $1.99. In high school my friends and I began a practice of driving down and buying $20.00 of CDs maybe once a month. Half the CDs might be by people we had heard of, but the other half would often be people who just had snappy names, or looked good, or had hot chicks on the front. We developed elaborate rituals for this experience, including the fact that you had to listen to two tracks of the artists the driver knew least well on the ride home, and then move on the front passenger’s least known purchase, and so on. This was such a successful practice that I stopped listening to the radio even before the rise of the MP3 player. I could always find out about an artist that was new to me by driving down to Princeton. The downside, as I am sure you might guess, is that once you get home many of the CDs that have not been listened to become enigmas that never enter regular rotation. Even CDs that are listened to may be overshadowed by other, better CDs and forgotten for the time being.

So my project, and the point of this blog: now that my CDs are organized in boxes, I have blanked my MP3 player, and am systematically moving, box by box, and ripping all the CDs I don’t know if I want to keep. I then listen to them at work, review them, and decide if I want to keep them. I have decided to let myself have one revisit per album before I move on. That is the plan, lets see how it goes.