Tag: Headlines (Page 32 of 76)

Ex Norwegian: Sketch


RIYL: Matthew Sweet, Sloan, The Pursuit of Happiness

Proof positive in the existence of parallel universes. Sketch, the sophomore effort from Miami trio Ex Norwegian, is an otherworldly slab of catchy pop rock song after catchy pop rock song, conceived in some fantastic place where the ’90s power pop bubble never burst. (Lucky bastards never had to suffer through nu metal and emo. We want to go there, now.) Some of the songs bear the markings of a grunge influence – opening track “Jet Lag” opens with a D-tuned bass and chord sequence that would not have been out of place on Alice in Chains’ Dirt – and then when the chorus hits, it morphs into the best song Sloan never wrote, all sunny harmonies and ringing guitars. “Sky Diving” is a gorgeous slice of melancholic pop (likewise “Upper Hand”), and “Acting on an Island” deftly shifts time signatures around an unforgettable climbing melody. As comfortable with upbeat sing-a-longs as they are with darker, more introspective material – with the added bonus of having three musicians who can sing lead – Sketch is the sound of a band with limitless potential. Here’s hoping that bubble in which they’re living remains intact. (Ex Norwegian 2010)

Ex Norwegian MySpace page
Click to buy Sketch

M.I.A.: Maya


RIYL: Missy Elliott, Rihanna, steaming hot messes

I guess you have to hand it to Maya “M.I.A.” Arulpragasam for not taking the sound of her breakthrough pop hit “Paper Planes” and repeating it 12 times over the course of her new album (which we are calling Maya from here on out, because trying to type those symbols out is annoying as hell). Although “Planes” wasn’t the most obvious candidate for pop ubiquity, it was certainly one of M.I.A.’s more accessible tunes, buoyed by a chanted kids’ chorus (offset by gunfire as it was) and a Clash sample. Unfortunately, 12 slight variations on “Paper Planes” might have actually been an improvement over what we wind up with on the Sri Lankan-born Brit’s just-released third effort. Maya is a fairly dissonant, disjointed affair on which M.I.A. practically plays a secondary role to the production.

M.I.A’s signature sound-featuring elements from various kinds of world music, as well as some more traditional electronic sub-genres, gets a slight makeover here. Tracks like “Born Free” (of controversial “video featuring redheads getting slaughtered” fame) and “Meds & Feds” have a more abrasive, rock-oriented sound. Taking the opposite tack, closing number “Space” has a more ethereal feel. Chalk this expansion up to M.I.A. working outside of her usual producers Diplo and Switch for a few songs and expanding her musical palette. However, the points she gains for opening her sound up are quickly squandered when you realize how crappy the songs are.

Most artists who tackle sociopolitical themes in their music have voices powerful enough to get the points they’re trying to make across. On Maya, M.I.A.’s vocals are buried under the production, and while the music is certainly chaotic and abrasive, her lyrical message (whatever it is) is completely obscured. Profundity has never been M.I.A.’s strong point, but too many songs on this album seem to consist of random chanting. Strangely, the album’s most affecting (or at least most listenable) songs are the ones where she seems to be gunning for Top 40 radio. Tracks like the reggae-scented “It Takes a Muscle” and the abrasive but melodic “Tell Me Why” could very easily compete on the charts with songs by Rihanna, the performer M.I.A. sounds most comparable to when singing instead of rapping.

If you loved “Paper Planes” and you’re expecting an album of copycat songs, you’ll be disappointed. If you’re a fan of M.I.A.’s politics and you’re looking for some Public Enemy-style rabble rousing, you’ll be disappointed. While it’s great that M.I.A. looked superstardom in the eye and didn’t sell out, the least she could have done in the wake of her success was make a good album. “Maya” ultimately turns out to be as messy as trying to type out the symbols that spell out her name on the album cover. (XL/Interscope Records 2010)

M.I.A. MySpace page

Me, Myself, and iPod 7/21/10: Elefants with guitars, robots with out holes

esd ipod

Hesta Prynn – Can We Go Wrong
Formerly of “female Beastie Boys” Northern State – and the author of this great couplet: “If you got a sweat suit and you’re dripping in diamonds / Tell me, are you a rapper, or a mom from Long Island?” – the girl her mom calls Julie Potash goes the indie pop route on her debut EP of the same name as this song.

Yacht – Nausea
Their 2009 song “Afterlife” beat every other synth-pinking wannabe act all to hell, and as they prepare to make their next record, they’ve recorded an X song, just in case we didn’t already know that they get the ’80s in ways that most other bands only dare to dream.

Diego Garcia – You Were Never There
Forsaking the full-blown glam of his previous day job Elefant for something closer to his heritage, Garcia delivers a gorgeous acoustic gem that sounds like a modern-day “Walk Away Renee.” Man, we hope the rest of his first full-length album, due next year, is on par with this.

PVT – Window
We will confess to being new to the band formerly known as Pivot, but if their new material has the drive and flair of this song, we’re in.

Radio FreQ – Where You Been
New York ’80s synth pop with a bit more…fabulousness, if you catch our drift. And look, more silly capitalization. We get it, Eq, blah blah blah, but still, enough already. Just spell the damn name in a manner that doesn’t give people splitting headaches. And while we’re on the subject of band names…

Shit Robot – I Found Love (TBD Remix)
Naming your band is a lot harder than people think. It’s your invisible handshake, the first impression that makes people decide whether or not they wish to get to know you better. The name needs to be something catchy but not annoying, and no matter what kind of music you play, the name should still maintain a sense of accessibility.

Which is why we laughed out loud when we learned that someone concluded that the best possible name for his band was Shit Robot. Well played, sir.

The Coral: Butterfly House


RIYL: The Zutons, Super Furry Animals, The Moody Blues

One can’t help but feel a little bad for the Coral. Once tabbed as England’s best new band, their profile of late on the other side of the pond has been so far below the radar that even the Anglophiles on the staff had not thought of them in a good six or seven years. Look for that to change with Butterfly House, the band’s sixth album and first in three years. Singer James Skelly has traded in the Burdon-esque bluesy growl from the band’s debut for a smooth, harmony-drenched crispness that could serve as the backing track to your neighbor’s home movies of a fall weekend in the late ’60s. Lead single “1000 Years” offers a little bit of everything you can expect from Butterfly House as a whole – effects-heavy vocals (a watery flange in this case), a catchy mid-tempo groove, and a sudden burst of guitar, all tastefully played and expertly recorded by UK music legend John Leckie. There is an admitted sameness to the material, but the mood of the album strikes such a strong emotional chord that it’s difficult to complain. One of the biggest, and best, surprises of the year. (Indie Europe 2010)

The Coral MySpace page
Click to buy Disconnect from Desire from Amazon

School of Seven Bells: Disconnect from Desire


RIYL: My Bloody Valentine, Ride, Chapterhouse

Neil Hannon recently quipped in his song “At the Indie Disco” about how “we’re dancing to the beat, and staring at each other’s feet.” One wonders if the indie disco in question was playing School of Seven Bells, because their sophomore album, Disconnect from Desire, is one of the finer shoegazer records from this or any other era (which is to say the only other era, the early ’90s). The drum tracks recall the 808/909 period while maintaining a modern feel, and the harmonies of twin singers Alejandra and Claudia Deheza create the ultimate siren’s call, an ethereal bliss that makes the most crushing one-liner feel like a soft kiss goodnight. “I L U” is the album’s crown jewel, reimagining My Bloody Valentine’s “Soon” as a tender breakup song (bonus points for its dead simple three-note chorus), while the jangly “Babelonia” sends a knowing wink to Jesus Jones’ “International Bright Young Thing” with Deheza’s wavering vocal.

School_of_Seven_Bells_01

It’s curious that a shoegazer renaissance would take hold in today’s climate, especially when it was only marginally successful the first time around. Ah, but nostalgia is a powerful thing, and there are few periods as beloved by music hounds as the go-go modern rock scene of the early ’90s, when grunge and baggy still coexisted peacefully. Disconnect from Desire distills the ecstasy-fueled elements of those early shoegazer records with a healthy dose of pop songcraft. The end result, at the risk of sounding cliche, is dreamy. (Vagrant/Ghostly International 2010)

School of Seven Bells MySpace page
Click to buy Disconnect from Desire from Amazon

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