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This SoCal group makes tasty, brooding modern rock that would sound just right on your local college’s radio station. Hell, they may be already appearing on it right now. Magnolia Road is the sort of album that you’d put on when you’re feeling down and need someone to sympathize with you. “Gravity” pretty much sets the Intercept scene: pretty, crystalline guitar notes that soon give way to a larger, cinematic sound with booming guitars at the choruses and Christian Knudsen’s impassioned vocals at the fore. “Two Broken Astronauts” coasts along on a spacey groove and “Imaginary Friends” mixes coffehouse acoustic tones to modern college rock circa 1996. Funny how some things never change. This album is certainly a solid affair, and Intercept is a tight, well-rehearsed band, but there’s something about the overall sound of Magnolia Road that squarely dates it about ten years. Not that there’s necessarily anything wrong with that, but anyone who lived through those times and was going through their college years will definitely feel in familiar territory. Solid, but not quite essential. (Intercept Records) |
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Someone call the cops, because Dan Bejar’s been robbed. With I Was Raised on Matthew, Mark, Luke and Laura, Detroit’s Pas/Cal has assembled one gorgeous (but lengthy) love letter to the Destroyer and part-time New Pornographer, churning out song after song of ornate but odd guitar pop. “Glorious Ballad of the Ignored” seems to have five or six mini-suites all by itself. It’s immaculately done but also overdone, turning on themselves so many times that it’s easy to get lost mid-song. These guys clearly know their way around a melody, but one wonders what kind of masterpiece they could whip up if they forced themselves to keep it simple. (Le Grand Magistry 2008) |
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Yes, there are a lot of bands that sound like Kessler. The Dallas quintet’s sound falls somewhere between Warped Tour and Family Values, but with songwriting chops that rival power pop industry benchmarks like Butch Walker and Fountains of Wayne. I Know Your Voice is the band’s debut and if you came to the table wanting to hate it, you’re going to walk away disappointed. Kessler isn’t doing something that hasn’t been done before, but you’ll be tapping your feet and grooving before you know what’s happening. Add to the equation producer Jim Wirt (Hoobastank, Jack’s Mannequin) and you probably already know what Kessler sounds like. But this is a strong debut, in particular the first single, “Outside Your Window,” which sounds like summer. Other standouts are the Goo Goo Dolls-ish “Dallas” and the blazing “The Missing.” (YMA Records) |
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There is a strong case to be made here for the importance of sequencing. The track listing for Partie Automatic, the debut album from Florida synth-rockers the Black Kids, paints the band into a corner before they’ve had a chance to spread their wings. Opening songs “Hit the Heartbreaks” and the title track are serviceable enough, but it’s the third track that throws everything out of whack: The weedier-than-weedy “Listen to Your Body Tonight” has no business whatsoever in the three-hole; that slot is tailor-made for lead single “I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance with You,” which would have propped up everything on either side of it. Instead, “Boyfriend” is batting seventh, behind the girl group-ish “I’ve Underestimated My Charm (Again),” which feels like an answer record to the Pipettes. Granted, those two songs work really well together, but is anyone still listening by this point? Lead singer Reggie Youngblood has a few different speeds, but his strained Robert Smithisms dominate the front half, making the album a more laborious listen than it needs to be. Our suggestion: re-sequence the album, and replace “Listen to Your Body Tonight” with their cover of Sophie B. Hawkins’ “Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover.” Everyone loves a cover version, right? (Columbia) |
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Yeah, he was a contestant on “American Idol,” but don’t expect Manilow levels of showbiz schmaltz from Jon Peter Lewis’ sophomore release, Break the Silence – for better or worse, he identifies far more strongly with slightly rockin’ singer/songwriters like Richard Marx. Fortunately, he’s absorbed more from his influences than the ability to be tasteful; Silence is stacked with unexpectedly ingratiating melodies, put across by Peters’ clear, graceful vocals and abetted by a band of session ringers that includes drummer Kenny Aronoff, guitarist Tim Pierce, and studio utility infielder Charles Judge. More convincing than Clay Aiken and more entertaining than Daughtry, Lewis should be on the Top 40 instead of selling his wares on a piddling little indie label – really, the set’s only major problem is Lewis’ occasional dependence on platitudes like ”Even in your darkest hour / You’re still beautiful.” Well, that and the fact that he’s the millionth person to cover Dylan’s “To Make You Feel My Love” – but if you’ve got a weakness for soaring melodies and impeccably arranged pop-rock, you’ll be willing to forgive these minor trespasses. It’s a minor gem, but Break the Silence still shines brightly. (Cockaroo 2008) |
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The most shocking thing about Are We All Forgotten, the perky little EP from the Nashville quartet Paper Route, is the label that’s daring to release it. Apparently, Universal Motown didn’t get the memo that, as Eminem once bluntly put it, nobody listen to techno. Their “mistake,” as it were, is our gain, because this is one nifty collection of ambient electronic pop. The title song is the clear standout, armed with a skittery drum track and more jangly guitar than that entire La’s album. Lead singer Chad Howat’s tenor has a bit of Carl Newman to it at times, notably on “Empty House,” and the band is keen to balance the earnestness of the lyrics with plenty of ‘hoo hoos’ and ‘ha has.’ Gorgeous stuff. Looking forward to the full-length album. (Low Altitude/Universal Motown) |
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The six-song EP Laswell released earlier this year, How the Day Sounds, suggested vast landscapes of promise for Greg Laswell – so much promise, in fact, that it seemed altogether unlikely he’d be able to fulfill it all with the full-length follow-up. He doesn’t buck the odds here — Three Flights from Alto Nido is solid overall, and even close to brilliant in spots, but wide swaths of it are perfectly unmemorable in a perfectly pleasant way. Musically, Laswell is a blend of Ron Sexsmith and Coldplay, but he lacks the immediate emotional resonance of either; too much of the album glides past without lasting impact. But when he’s on, he’s on – “ “How the Day Sounds” is the greatest song that U2 never wrote, and tracks like “That It Moves” and “I’d Be Lying” soar on the strength of Laswell’s airy vocals and way with an elegantly catchy melody. For songs about such profound emotions, though, these recordings are curiously stately – almost airless. Part of the blame can be lain at the feet of Laswell’s fondness for GarageBand recording, but that’s just one symptom of a larger problem. There’s a bleeding heart lurking beneath all these layers of cool porcelain; with enough time, here’s hoping Laswell learns how to let it show. (Vanguard 2008) |
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There is an episode of “The Simpsons” where a record producer has Bart, Nelson, Milhouse and Ralph sing into microphones that are hooked up to a machine that makes them sound like N’Sync (“Thank you, NASA,” the producer says). After listening to Hit the Lights’ Skip School, Start Fights, you will be inclined to believe that this machine actually exists, and nearly every emo band that put out an album in the last five years has used it. The problem is that instead of sounding like Justin Timberlake, you get a nasal, whiny, pinched tenor (must still be in the beta testing stage). Hit the Lights are not awful, mind you; they’re just unoriginal and derivative. Their songs are a series of Something Corporate-style vocals melded to breakdowns straight from your favorite My Chemical Romance song, so if you like that sort of thing, then odds are you’ll like this, too. But don’t let that album title fool you: the last thing these boys want to do is cause trouble. They sing of sobering up and staying out all night, getting you to break up with your miserable whore of a girlfriend, and getting out of “this bitter town,” presumably the band’s hometown of Lima, OH. They’re trying to sound like angst-ridden tough guys, but they’re far too cute and harmless to pass for menacing. It makes you wonder if they are even aware that their band name is a Metallica song. (EastWest) |
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You can usually tell everything you need to know about a band by their name – Staind, Crystal Method, Motorhead, etc. – and then there are bands like the inexplicably named Sunny Day Sets Fire, who will likely turn off the very people who will love them before they’ve heard a note because of their name alone. For the record, they are far more about sunny days than setting fires, and Summer Palace, the debut album from the UK-based band – their members are from Italy, Hong Kong, Canada and England – is one of the year’s finest, a delirious mix of New Pornographers-style smart pop and psychedelic tinges that bring to mind Flaming Lips and Polyphonic Spree. “End of the Road” sports a spaghetti western guitar hook, while “Stranger” is straight-up bouncy power pop, and “All Our Songs” will make A.C. Newman green with envy. To carry the New Pornographers comparison a step further, some songs sound like Newman-written songs while others, namely “I Dream Along” and the (annoying) “Map of the World,” could have been the work of Dan Bejar. It all adds up to one of the most adventurous and rewarding pop records you’ll hear all year. More, please. (IAMSOUND Records) |
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Technology has afforded so many singer/songwriters to release albums in the last few years that it’s practically unfathomable. So how do we sift through everything and find the music that’s actually worth listening to? We rely on things like satellite radio, film/TV artist launches, and publicists. Of course, this stuff has to pass our ears and make us stand up and take notice, and Denver’s Dan Craig is doing that to more than a few ears. His third album, Skin Grows Thin, is 13 mostly acoustic offerings that are dreamy, ethereal Damien Rice-like fare that is performed with precision and emotion as if Craig truly believes every word he’s singing. To pull off the acoustic thing well, you have to have a remarkable voice, and Craig’s smoky tenor is just that. The opening track, “Further to Fall,” is money in the bank, but there really isn’t a bad track on here. Other notables are when Craig smartly uses strings and sweet harmonies to deliver his message, as he does on “Breaking Hearts Tonight” and “All Break Down.” Dan Craig’s music might be a music supervisor’s dream, but more than that, he’s a dependable singer/songwriter in a crowded genre. (Dan Craig Music) |
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The next time he’s in the shower, Chris Martin may want to take an extra minute to check his family jewels, because it sounds like his left nut has gone off and made itself an album. On its full-length debut, ’Til We See the Shore, Seabird presents itself as an incredible facsimile of Coldplay, copping every facet of their sound – swirly guitars, pensive keyboards, melancholy vocals – and adding nothing of their own, except perhaps the vaguest of CCM overtones. There’s nothing inherently wrong with being Coldplay for the Christian set, of course – just as there’s no crime in swinging for the fences with press kit quotes like “We hope this record will be an oasis for those who were left thirsty by years of heartache.” But dammit, if you’re going to swing for the fences, you’d better at least be holding a bat – not depending on such unintentionally hilarious couplets as ”So put this steak on your eye / It’s much better for you than rice / It’s your bread, water and rice.” It’s all very pretty, of course, but even on your debut, you’ve got to hope to provoke something more than unfavorable comparisons to Keane. (Credential Recordings 2008) |
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How many ways can we make money and exploit a dead star? We can keep releasing different versions of greatest hits, altering track order and omitting and including different songs. We can release groups of tracks from various record labels separately. We can also come up with new and interesting thematic collections, like songs from movies perhaps. Capitol felt the need to get some more Ol’ Blue Eyes product out there and compiled 20 tracks from his contributions to cinema. There is nothing wrong with compilations or Sinatra; in fact every American citizen should receive some Frank upon their birth, particularly Songs for Swingin’ Lovers or Strangers in the Night or if you want a compilation, try The Capitol Years from 1990. This collection has some of the well known stuff like “Chicago,” “The Lady Is a Tramp,” “Three Coins in a Fountain” and “Young at Heart.” It also showcases the man’s voice from different periods of his career so you can hear the deepening and richness in his vocals as he matured. However, it is an unnecessary collection in that this material is available elsewhere. Sure, you can throw this on and have a nice Fresca on the patio, but there are many other collections much more worthy of your time. (Capitol) |
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Val Emmich is a name you may not recognize, but here’s a dude (yes, Val is a man) that has released five albums and an EP, one on a major label and a few on indies. And years of touring with the likes of Butch Walker, Gavin DeGraw and Better Than Ezra has helped to shape Emmich’s current style and songwriting on his latest, Little Daggers. Emmich played most of the instruments on this effort, and it’s filled with anthems and rockers, heartfelt lyrics, and hooks that are sometimes subtle but usually engaging. It’s the kind of album you probably won’t hear on the radio, but you’ll find playing in some cool record store or, if Emmich is savvy at marketing, in a motion picture. You can take the songs on which Emmich tries a bit too hard, especially on “Hurt More Later” and “Darling Denise,” the latter of which sounds kind of like emo whining. But the bulk of the tracks are very good, bordering on really, really good. In particular, the first few rocking numbers, “The Lucky Ones” and “Get On With It,” will have you quite possibly dancing on the roof of your car, while the best track of all, “Down,” sounds like a cross between Butch Walker and a more somber Bruce Springsteen. Despite a few clunkers, this is still one of the better albums by an independent artist in 2008. (LABEL: bluhammock music) |
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The Feelings Mutual is a power pop trio from San Diego, and having been together for less than a year at release time, this five-song self-titled EP is literally hot off the presses. But it surely does what every good EP does, which is to make you want at least five more songs. There are hints of quite a few things going on in the Feelings Mutuals’ songs, including garage rock (think The Strokes), ‘90’s alt-pop (think Better Than Ezra), edgy pop (think Butch Walker) and active rock radio fare (think Breaking Benjamin). But what’s most impressive is that these three dudes somehow tie all that together in a way that, while obviously unique, is still quite palatable. Once you stop trying to figure out how they do it, and just listen, the answer is simple — this is a damn good band. Blazing rocker “Monolith” and rock anthem “Ring Me Out” are the standouts on a fine debut. Now let’s hope the Feelings Mutual gets in a van, tours, lives some life, and makes some more music. (Ares Records) |
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When you stop and think about all of the work and traveling involved in a 162-game baseball season, it’s no wonder that the game is littered with characters and funny stories. And while there have been your share of light-hearted songs about the game of baseball over the years, such as “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” and “Talkin’ Baseball,” it was high time that someone poke a stick in the collective belly of the sport. Enter this group of wise guys – Scott McGaughey (R.E.M.) and Steve Wynn (Dream Syndicate). After enlisting Peter Buck (R.E.M.) and Linda Pitmon (Golden Smog) to round out The Baseball Project, the group whipped up thirteen songs and hit the studio, and the result is Volume 1: Frozen Ropes and Dying Quails. Nothing is sacred here, including maybe the best song title ever, “Ted Fucking Williams.” They also pick on guys like Curt Flood, Harvey Haddix, and Fernando Valenzuela. But perhaps the best track of all is “The Yankee Flipper,” a reference to rocker and former pitcher Jack McDowell, about the time he flipped off 50,000 booing fans at Yankee Stadium. But here’s a bonus - the music is really good. It’s raunchy garage rock with R-rated lyrics, but melodic enough to suit most musical palates. Serious fans of both baseball and music should own this one and look forward to Volume 2. (LABEL: Yep Roc) |
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