Author: Neil Carver (Page 1 of 3)

The Joy Formidable: The Big Roar


RIYL: Sugarcubes, The Sounds, Editors

The Joy Formidable are North Wales’ Ritzy Brian and Rhydian Daffyd with drummer Matt Thomas who clearly needs to change his name to keep up with his band mates. Like many of their contemporaries, they bring a great deal of post-punk and new wave influences to their electronic indie rock, but unlike most, they manage to transform it all into a fresh sonic experience of sublimely constructed songs that work on levels musical, emotional and technical.

Before signing with Atlantic, the Joy Formidable produced an excellent EP, A Balloon Called Moaning that demonstrated a true breadth to their song craft. At eight songs, this was a much more than a typical EP, feeling like a complete debut work. Such a solid collection drove anticipation for their full-length debut, but also created some questions. Would they simply add a few more songs and call it new? What would they do with the experience and added room? The answers are a bit surprising, challenging for the listener, and well worth listening to again and again.

Unabashedly, the Joy Formidable kick off the record with “Austere,” one of their most accessible and catchy songs, and one of four repeats from the EP. But calling them repeats doesn’t do the songs justice; from the deeper, more resonant production quality to the extended ending, they improved upon the lush, layered pop in every way. Impressively, and with no little risk, they went with a “bigger and more” theme throughout The Big Roar, perhaps to live up to the aggrandizing title. Whatever the intent, it works. They play with more echoing, ambient haunts on the original “Buoy” slowing down the pace and tone on track two, playing with expectations, not catering to them. When they rev it back up on “Chapter 2,” they throw pop pretentions out the door, using an old typewriter as introductory percussion, before slamming you with a wall of grinding guitars and drums.

Somehow, throughout the album, Ritzy and company move in unexpected directions, without ever going off the rails. The wash of distortion that never loses its pop roots in “Cradles” flows into a mix of Primitives-style pop rock and prog rock eclecticism. Here you also get the taste of their all-out jam sensibility, as the song goes on for several minutes of heady instrumental work, ending in a wash of white noise.

The entire album is one designed to sweep you up on to a constant ride through a very deliberately crafted joyous and formidable world. If the band was trying to capture their live experience on a studio record, it feels like they made that magic happen. At times channeling Siouxsie Sioux, other times the Cocteau Twins with some balls, Ritzy Brian skates across the breathy, frosty vocal spectrum, without slipping into coyness or frigidity. She lets the pulse of the music carry her voice, riding the crests, and providing some clear focus in the cacophony without corralling the rush. It all comes to a close with the last and greatest of their songs brought over from the EP. “Whirring” is the quintessential example of the “bigger and more” philosophy, double in length from the original, bringing together all the pop, rock, indie and progressive sensibilities into a perfect whole. “All these things about me, you never can tell,” sings Brian, and this is a good thing. The Joy Formidable hook you easily, without ever being easy to pin down, and this makes for one of the best records you’ll hear this year. (Canvasback/Atlantic 2010)

The Joy Formidable MySpace page

Daft Punk: Tron Legacy Soundtrack


RIYL: Vangelis, Tangerine Dream, James Horner

Highly anticipated by Daft Punk fans, the soundtrack to Disney’s nostalgia-driven sequel to 1982’s “Tron” is the latest from the French progressive electronic dance masters. Happily it turns out that their work on projects like “Irreversible” and “Electroma” has paid off, as Bangalter and de Homem-Christo prove they can manage to create both a true soundtrack in service of a film, and a powerful musical album in and of itself. Just don’t expect to dance to this one.

The “Tron: Legacy” soundtrack is full of the expected mood setting pieces a score is intended for. They utilize strident, driving string sections, pounding tympani and crescendos of dramatic brass, all of it layered with ambient electronic work that is perfectly measured and restrained. A casual listener is not going to hear Daft Punk at all in many tracks, and this might disappoint long time fans, but only because of outmoded expectations. Anyone willing to just listen and be swept up into the sonic world they create will not be disappointed.

The opening “Overture” is a classic work that would blend nicely into “The Grid,” a more techno-specific piece, if it wasn’t for the overt use of Jeff Bridges’ monologue. It isn’t horrible, but the music is so powerful that there is no need for forced movie dialogue to sell the story. Daft Punk also shows a deep respect for not only the original “Tron” score, but other ‘80s influences as well. “Arena” and “Rinzler” are back-to-back pieces that owe much to the original “Terminator” film (the distinct percussion in particular), while the exquisite “Arrival” follows the influences that Wendy Carlos seemed to take in the original, which adopted from Vangelis’ ultimate sci-fi soundtrack, “Blade Runner.”

This is not to say that Daft Punk rest on the influences of the past. At most, these nods to their forerunners serve as grounding points, allowing the rest of their work to soar in new and powerful directions. “C.L.U.” is one of the best modern classical pieces you’ll hear. Whoever might have pigeonholed Daft Punk into the realm of “just another dance band” will have to reassess now, as Bangalter and de Homem-Christo prove they belong in a much higher category of song writers and composers. (Walt Disney Records 2010)

Daft Punk MySpace page

The Law: A Measure of Wealth


RIYL: The Kooks, Dogs Die in Hot Cars, The Futureheads

Those coming to the Law via their international exposure on the soundtrack to “The Men Who Stare at Goats” might be a bit surprised when they listen to the rest of the album. Whether that is a pleasant surprise or not will simply be a matter of taste. A Measure of Wealth is just that, a little slice of energetic indie rock that begs the question whether a band from Dundee Scotland would be insulted to be called Brit-pop. Whatever their feelings, their influences are clearly ’80s and ’90s Brit-pop, more on the Blur side of the tracks than Oasis. They lack the Trad-rock elements of the Gallagher brothers, though the album was recorded at Sawmills Studios, the studio that gave birth to Definitely Maybe. This isn’t what you might expect after the lead track “Don’t Stop, Believe” (which is also found on the aforementioned soundtrack) comes blasting out like a Wolfmother lead. Full on blues-based hard rock, with Robert Plant-like wailing in the background, “Don’t Stop, Believe” is pedal-to-the-metal music, and nothing like what follows.

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As track one grinds down into a single Hammond chord, the album transforms and we are greeted with a heavily Pulp-influenced tune called “The Chase,” which truly sets the tone for everything to follow. The Pulp influence resurfaces in riffs and refrains throughout, but halfway through, on “Television Satellite” they drop any subtlety to wrap themselves fully in the glam-influence and swirling guitars of the biggest heroes of Brit-pop, Suede. More than a few tracks would have been right at home on an album like Coming Up, and this is a good thing. All in all, the Law have created a romp of an album, one that should be shuffled into any discerning college student’s party mix. So, while anyone looking for more stoner rock based on the opening track might be disappointed, A Measure of Wealth is a solid, energetic debut that shouldn’t be overlooked. (Local Boy Records 2010)

The Law MySpace page

The Whigs:In the Dark


RIYL: Dinosaur Jr., Foo Fighters, The Replacements

In the Dark starts out by rolling over you with a wall of guitars that, far from dissonant and buffeting, instead envelops you like the wind before a promising storm, and like some great thunder, the Whigs continue to prove they are an experience not to be missed.

Coming off their well-received second album, Mission Control, and a series of acclaimed live shows (not the least of which was a standout performance at the 2008 SXSW), it is evident that the hard core touring and energetic playing has only invigorated their songwriting. In the Dark is the Whigs’ best album yet, and one that engages from beginning to end.

The album is power rock, through and through, but it never forgets that melody and rhythm shouldn’t be sacrificed for that power. It is the same for the lyrics, as throughout Parker Gispert is clearly singing from those hidden places where anger and regret fester, but he refuses to either rage or mope. There is as much a sense of resolute energy as anything, even when he sings “Kill Me Carolyn” or questions his lust for “Someone’s Daughter.”

Most of the album openly embraces their primary influence, the more hard-rocking post punk of the Replacements (most evident on “Automatic” and “So Lonely,” with no little bit of the Godfathers thrown in there on the title track and the opening “Hundred/Million.” The production is just tight enough and the arrangements original and lush enough to push it beyond any assumed imitation, and the first five tracks are solid Whigs.

Then, just when it feels like you have a handle on the album, they throw you a hard curve right in the middle. “Dying” comes on and everything shifts into a heavy rhythmic chant full of psychedelic influences. It tosses you into dark places only hinted at up until now. That is the flow of the album. An energetic, but evident descent into the viscera of the music, but then the steady, strong drive that leads us back out; an inverted emotional parabola that never slows, but never lets us off the ride, either. Check out “I Am for Real” as the perfect catharsis moment.

In the Dark ends with a mini-jam session of a song, “Naked,” at times minimalist and echoing, while at others a pulsing rocker. It is one of the more inventive and original works that lets the Whigs flaunt their talent, energy and idiosyncrasies.

Check out In the Dark. It is one of the better albums to come along so far this year, and it should win them new fans while pleasing their faithful. Listen loud! ATO Records 2010

The Whigs MySpace page

Veil Veil Vanish: Change in the Neon Light


RIYL: Pom Pom Diary, The Sounds, White Lies

Metaphor time. Take a chocolate cake, for instance. Even a bad one has some tasty bits, and a good one is always a treat, no matter how many times you’ve had it before. Sure you can feel like you’ve OD’d on too much chocolate, but give it a little time, and you’ll be back for more.

A lot of rock music genres are the same way. The musical elements that define them as a genre or style are the same elements that become quite familiar and overused, both appealing and repetitive all at once. The heavily ’80s-influenced post punk revival of the past decade fits this description to a “T”, as does the debut album by Veil Veil Vanish, Change in the Neon Light. Only seconds in, it is obvious where the San Fran quartet got their recipe; it is all Cure, spiced with Echo & the Bunnymen, sprinkled with early U2 and iced with Gene Loves Jezebel. There is nothing subtle here, and one could argue it is derivative, but that is only on the surface. Take one big bite and you’ll find that Change in the Neon Light is one helluva good chocolate cake.

The atmospheric qualities of the entire album are shimmering and driving, an album full of layered guitars and danceable percussion. The opening title track and final song “Wilderness” perfectly bookend the darkly emotive mood that fills the album. Keven Tecon’s vocals are plaintive but never whiny, while Robert Marzio deserves MVP accolades for signature drums that carry every song forward relentlessly. The album never lets up. From beginning to end there is not a weak track, and it really hits its stride in the second half with “Secondhand Daylight,” where Amy Rosenoff’s bass line and Cameron Ray’s guitars play off each other expressively, and “Detachment,” which serves up Siouxsie Sioux-like power. “It’s no fun if it doesn’t leave a mark,” they sing, and this album proves the point.

Veil Veil Vanish (a name just ridiculous enough to stick) is a surprisingly strong as a band on this debut, and it bodes well for the future. They haven’t drastically changed the recipe in creating Change in the Neon Light, but they definitely know how to cook. Their debut sets a high bar for the next course. Recommended. (Metropolis Records 2010)

Veil Veil Vanish MySpace page

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