New Noise :: Capsule: Blue

Capsule
Blue (Robotic Empire)
Verdict: 9.0.
RIYL: Orchid, Off Minor, Pg. 99, Circle Takes the Square, Cave In

skramz (skrāmz)
- noun
1. Informal A new term for the screamo/emo bands of the 90s, or anything that is REAL screamo/emo. I'm not sure if the term is supposed to be taken seriously or not, but it's there. Possibly created in revolt of the shitty 'new' emo bands and self-proclaimed 'emo' kids.
(source: urbandictionary.)

You see, this is what irks me as a music journo. As much as I enjoy the convenience of ultra-specific genre labels (see: post-metal; baile funk; nerdcore), the names deigned to them rarely, you know, mean anything. Seriously: Skramz? What the everloving fuck is that? Why can't we just say that Miami's Capsule is a hardcore band? And then why can't we just follow that up with a clause like, oh I don't know, "in the vein of '90s screamo titans Orchid and Pg. 99"? Plus: Skramz just sounds (and looks) fucking retarded. Look: Capsule is a screamo band — essentially short for "faster, more brutal hardcore with lots of screaming and/or shouting." Yeah, that's dumbing it down, but at least it means something.

I digress in the interest of keeping things simple. Capsule fucking slays. Blue is an absolute powerhouse from start to finish; it's heavy, it's spazzy and, at times, it's even absolutely gorgeous. It's a monolith of aggression and power. It's a panic attack gone horribly, horribly right. You'll need a helmet so there won't be a mess when Blue blows your mind.

Blue kicks off in high gear with the balls-tighteningly fantastic one-two punch of the dense "True Blue" and the spastic, thrashing "Cobalt Connection." (See the color motif running through here? Yeah? Yeah.) The energy and spirit contained within invoke Orchid and Commander Caterpillar, but the off-kilter tunings and malicious riffs recall the early work of art-core monoliths Cave In. Indeed, it's when Capsule stretches the song lengths past the 120-second mark that things get really interesting. "Determinal" starts off as another exercise in controlled fury before devolving into a beautiful, grungy drone. Follow that up with the sullen, somber "Blue/Green" and you have a nice respite (and a seldom seen change of pace) from the brutal ass-kicking of the rest of Blue.

Blue is a confounding and wonderful conflagaration of brutal blast-beats, shifting time-signatures and galloping punk spirit. Blurry, buried shouts are surrounded by thunderous mountains of guitar and bass, buried beneath the avalanche of melodic onslaught. And yet, for the conscious listener, intricate melodies in bizarre tunings sneak their way into an overall unnerving amalgamation of genres, creating an anxiety-filled album of fevered beauty. Easily one of the most unique and rewarding listens of the year.

New Noise :: Kaki King, Russian Circles

I'm a big Kaki King fan; I think Legs to Make Us Longer was one of the best albums of its year, and ...until we felt red is an underrated pleasure. "Pull Me Out Alive," the first single from King's newest longplayer Dreaming of Revenge, released today. It's an interesting mid-tempo indie-pop track, and the mostly strummed (and incredibly jangly) guitar work seems to mark a departure point from her previous textured-guitar work. I'm interested to see how the rest of the record turns out; hopefully, King won't have abandoned the ambient textures that attracted listeners in the first place to fire off more polished pop tunes.



This video for Russian Circles' "Harper Lewis" has been circulating YouTube for seven months now, so crazy obsessive fans (such as yours truly) have been rocking this jam for some time. (Pitchfork posted the studio version of the track, which appears on the forthcoming Station, last week.) While it doesn't explode like "Death Rides a Horse" or evolve as eloquently as "Carpe," "Harper Lewis"'s slow-burning build is still pretty kickass.

New Noise :: American Gun: The Means and the Machine

American Gun
The Means and the Machine (Diamond D)
Verdict: 8.3.
RIYL: Whiskeytown, Lucero, Drive-By Truckers, Avett Brothers

In the grand tradition of Southern rock bands — and please note the distinction from Southern-rock bands a la Skynyrd et al — American Gun possesses a hootin', hollerin', carryin-on' spirit that wouldn't feel authentic coming from a band of carpetbaggers. Indeed, much of American Gun's swagger can be traced to old-time country's bigwigs — The Man in Black, The Possum, The Red-Headed Stranger, The Killer and The King — and the parts of which that can't are easily touchstoned — Whiskeytown, Lucero (hell yes, Lucero; the band expertly covers Ben Nichols' "All the Same to Me" on Means), Americana, Brit-rock.

So while such easy sonic references are a music journo's dream, it begs the question: Where are the original bones in the band's body? The bones here come from songwriters Todd Mathis and Donald Merckle, the creative forces behind the band's attractive indie-Americana tunes. Typical dual-songwriter comparisons — Lennon-McCartney or, perhaps more appropriately, Farrar-Tweedy — don't exactly fit, as there's never the sense that one is pulling in an entirely different direction than the other. Besides, both probably fall more toward the Tweedy side of the scale anyhow, though Merckle's tunes tend to be darker, folksier affairs and Mathis' to be edgier, overdriven affairs. And, indeed, the album works its best magic when each sticks to his strengths: Merckle scores a one-two punch with the tongue-in-cheek opener "Drunk Girls" and the roots-poppy "Fight Song"; Mathis sets Means ablaze with follow-up tracks "Horses" and "Neil Young Mood." Those themselves make for an incredibly strong side one, and while it's not that side two is lackluster or disappointing, it's not really again until the tongue-in-cheek closing number, the Mathis-penned "Jesus Gave Us Rock 'n' Roll," that American Gun again hits on all cylinders. Again: There are good tracks — Mathis' longing, lonesome "First Impressions" most of all — but the second half's preponderance of slow-burners and plodding tearjerkers bleeds off a little too much momentum.

I'm not thrilled with Chris Stamey's production of the record — it's a bit airy and dissociated for a band whose live strength is foot-stomping fervor. Stamey's saving grace, though, is introducing the band to pedal-steel virtuoso Al Perkins, whose melodic lines glide with blissful grace. Indeed, it's the steel playing that pushes most of the tracks into the alt-country straosphere; and when you add flashes of mandolin and horn sections, it's that much tastier.

Ultimately, The Means and the Machine is about the same as American Gun's debut, Dark Southern Hearts: A good-not-great, immensely solid outing that, were the band not toiling in relative obscurity, would provide a nice addition to the hallowed catalogs of New West or Lost Highway.

American Gun [MySpace]
American Gun [official website]

New Noise :: Grand Archives :: Torn Blue Foam Couch

You might remember me posting the demo for this song a while back. Back then, it was just a track on a four-song demo EP that they had thrown together themselves. Now signed to Sub Pop, Mat Brooke and Co. are about to drop their full-length (out Feb. 19th - pre-order and you get a bonus 7-inch), and to whet our whistle, Sub Pop has released the final version of 'Torn Blue Foam Couch.'

To be honest, I'm a little torn with how to feel about the new version. I suppose that's to be expected. For something like ten months, the demo is the only version of the song I had ever heard, and if I would ever get off my lazy butt and post my list of favorite songs from 2007 (soon, I promise), you would already know that this was my favorite song of the year. I have a few problems with the final version (and they really aren't problems, I'm just not used to the new arrangement). First off, I never realized that the chord structure was the same as Pachelbel's Canon (you know, that wedding song), but the new version's intro makes it unmistakable. Nothing wrong with that. It's just a little distracting. Another bother is that the piano is accompanied occasionally with a keyboard of some kind that occasionally detracts from the simple beauty of the piano. It's shorter, so it's build doesn't seem quite as magnificent as the original. There are new things that I do like. For instance, the horns really give it the Beach Boys feel that I think the band is going for, and the drums sound even better than the original, which I didn't think possible.

Anyways, enough of my opinions. Why don't you decide for yourself? Here's both versions. Discuss!

Grand Archives Torm Blue Foam Couch (demo)

Grand Archives Torn Foam Blue Couch (final)

Pre-order The Grand Archives here.

New Noise :: Aloha: Light Works

Aloha
Light Works (Polyvinyl)
Verdict: 6.4.
RIYL: Death Cab for Cutie, The Shins

Light Works is an astutely appropriate title: The seven tunes on the mini-LP (or really long EP) are profoundly quiet, eschewing Aloha’s trademark prog-rock clamor for plaintive, heart-on-sleeve indie-pop built on pristine, plucked acoustic guitars and pastoral piano figures. Indeed, “Too much of anything is wrong,” which Tony Cavallario muses on “Passengers,” is much less a lyric and much more a statement of purpose; to call Light Works sparse is an understatement. Quasi-prog arrangements and refined architectural elements go out with the old; sad-bastard, Plans-esque sentiment and palpable wuss-pop come in with the new. Indeed, fans of latter-day Death Cab for Cutie will eat this shit up — though, to its credit, it’s much headier and a much more refreshing listen than anything Death Cab’s done since The Photo Album, most especially "Body Buzz," which doesn't aspire to anything more than steady trot, but its end-of-summer-romance aesthetic is at once picturesque and gorgeous in its low-key splendor, making perfect use of piano and organ accents (not to mention yet another brilliant performance from drummer Cale Parks). But Aloha’s greatest strength was its beefy, quadraphonic ornamentation; the adventurous listener was rewarded with the efforts of an adventurous band. Now, the adventure is gone. In short, Light Works isn’t good, but it isn’t bad; it’s decidedly middle-of-the-road. “I must admit, I’ve slipped a bit,” Tony Cavallario croons on “Broken Light.” Maybe you have, Tony. Maybe you have.

Aloha - "Body Buzz" [from Light Works]
Aloha, Light Works [eMusic]
Aloha [MySpace]
Aloha [Polyvinyl]

New Noise :: The Field, Sound of Light

Here's the thing about music that's designed to fit a purpose: It is (or at least should be) judged against Eno's Music for Airports. Above, you'll see Stockholm's Nordic Light Hotel, the core design element of which, according to its website, is the Northern Lights. And the hotel (or at least the marketing firm the hotel employs) has asked a very strange question, at least for a hotel (or at least the marketing firm the hotel employs):

What does light sound like?

"This question," the hotel's website reads, "inspired our musical concept called 'Sound of Light.' However, the idea of creating music inspired by light was only the starting point for the project. The goal was to portray our entire hotel through music but our main idea was simply to produce a far out record that made great listening. To realize this ambition we decided to invite recording artistes to interpret our hotel experience and express it by making a record. One record for each artiste, to give them the space they need to fully develop their interpretation." The first of such artists was fellow Swede Axel Willner, known to the electronic music community as The Field. In essence, Sound of Light is Music for Hotels, and, moreover, Music for the Northern Lights.

Most, if not all, of Sound of Light falls into a fairly simple pattern, endemic of most electronic musicians: Sample-hold-repeat, with bells and whistles (literally and figuratively) orbiting around the central beat of the song. However, this is an advantage, as it makes the breaking Sound of Light down into four long tracks, each clocking in at or near 15 minutes long and delineated further into particular times of day, more palatable, as Sound of Light is designed almost narratively in structure.

"Morning" kicks off with a stuttering-yet-lock-step synth-and-drum-machine groove similar to Amnesiac-era Radiohead and explodes into what could essentially be called a chorus that recalls the reverent techno of Daft Punk. My only quibble with "Morning" is that, as a narrative element, it seems mislabeled; perhaps it's just my mornings, but "Morning" is far too upbeat and caffeinated, far too sunny. Regardless, there's a gorgeous break around the eight-minute mark where the beat reverses swims against the tide; a remarkable distraction from the relentless dance groove.

"Day," narratively, is much more fitting — another unyielding high-hat beat runs throughout the song, which is accented by clicks and clacks eerily reminiscent of computer keys. The machinic pounding found later builds like a Tinkertoy Tower, eventually crushing itself under its own weight — just like a day at the office. "Evening," then, is its antithesis — playful (with synthesized female cooing) and a loping dance beat. It starts out fairly dull, actually, like background music for "upscale" mall stores such as Express. (Uhh, not that I've ever been in there.) But it, like its three companions, unfolds spectacularly, gradually adding piece upon piece (laser beam synths, hisses of static) without losing itself, ironically maintaining a skeletal minimalism. Not surprisingly, "Evening" is also the most playful — the most fun, if you will — of the four tracks, and the most likely to be found bumping in an actual danceclub.

"Night" is the most explosive, a nearly beatless song that interlopes arrythmic synth tremors and high-hats around its vast interior. Indeed, it sounds almost hollow, like the reverbed echo of a canyon in which every sound is peripheral. Because of that, it's the one that's also the most calming, like staring into a clear night sky on a crisp night.

So is listening to Sound of Light like viewing Aurora Borealis? (Or, for that matter, even staying in the hotel?) Having never seen the lights (nor been to the hotel) myself, I can't say. But I'd imagine that it'd be a breath-taking, awe-inspiring experience. Sound of Light is neither, but it's a damn fine attempt. Each of the four tracks on the EP — and to call it an EP is almost egregious, as it's a hair over an hour long (longer, even, than Music for Airports) — unfolds gorgeously, as if guided by unseen mathematics and programmed to burst into one million tiny pieces of light on a night sky. The Verdict: 7.8/10.

New Noise :: Smashing Pumpkins, American Gothic

Can we just throw this tripe on Gilmore Girls and be done with it? Verdict: 3.8/10.
Smashing Pumpkins Issue New EP Today [Pitchfork]
Smashing Pumpkins - "Rose March" [via themodernmusic.com]

New Noise :: God Help The Girl :: Perfection As A Hipster

I had almost forgotten about the movie project God Help The Girl headed up by Stuart Murdoch (of Belle and Sebstian fame) until Pitchfork reminded me. Murdoch is hard at work casting the musical and will head into the studio to record the soundtrack in the spring. This early demo features Ladybug Transistor's Gary Olsen and B&S's own Catherine Ireton in a sweet little diddy about hipster girls. After a trip to Asheville a couple months ago, I started work on a song called 'I Want A Hipster Girlfriend,' but Murdoch beat me to the thematic punch, I'm afraid. And, of course, it's way better than anything I could have done. So while I shake my fist angrily at Stuart Murdoch, you lovely people can enjoy this great song he's written.

God Help The Girl (feat. Gary Olsen and Catherine Ireton) Perfection As A Hipster

New Noise :: Destroyer :: Foam Hands

We IndieRocketeers loves us some Dan Bejar. Under his Destroyer moniker, he released one of my favorite albums of 2006, so I was pretty excited when Merge released a promo mp3 of a track off Trouble In Dreams, the upcoming eighth Destroyer album (due out March 18th), I knew I had to share it with you beautiful people.

Destroyer Foam Hands

New Noise :: Battles :: Ddiamondd

So it looks like Battles have decided to give their fans an early Christmas present. Kinda like when you give your girlfriend that gift-wrapped lingerie a few weeks before Christmas because she's tipsy and, therefore, more likely to wear it and not realize that your 'gift' is just a present for yourself. Anyways, Battles. Sorry, I got distracted thinking about your girlfriend. Battles posted a little thanks-for-being-awesome-fans note on their myspace blog and included the lyrics to 'Rainbow,' 'Bad Trails,' and the impossible-to-decipher 'Ddiamondd.' They also decided to poke a little fun at the recent Prince debacle (Prince is kind of a dick? Shock!) with the picture posted above. Those guys... Anyway, check out 'Ddiamondd' and follow along with the lyrics. Use your mouse as a bouncy ball on speed if you want. You can find the other lyrics at their myspace page.

Battles Ddiamondd

DDIAMONDD

THE DIAMOND THAT WAS STOLEN HELD THE CODE THAT MELTED
WATER INTO LETTERS SPELLING WHERE IT HAD BEEN TAKEN TO
IN FACT I HAD A VISION OF THE NUMBERS CORRESPONDING WITH
THE LETTERS T-H-E-D-I-A-M-O-N-D

THEY'RE SUSPENDED LIKE A PRISM SPLITTING FLOODLIGHT TO
POLES OF PRIMARY COLORS CLAWING THE VEIL OF THE VACUUM
THERE'S A PICTURE OF THIS GIVEN TO AUTHORITIES, THE
SENTENCE "I'M AN ARCHITECT AND HERE'S MY PRISON" WRITTEN
ON IT

WITH SCHEMATICS SO METICULOUS THE MEASUREMENTS OF
SUPERIMPOSITIONS OF A ROOM WITHIN THE WINDOW MAKE A
DREAM THAT ENDS UP BEING SUCH AN ENTITY IN YOUR
REFLECTION, YOU ARE THE DREAM TO IT, YOU ARE IN THE PRISM

THE MIRRORS IN THE CORNER THROWING IMAGES AGAINST THE
OTHER MIRRORS MADE COUNTING CORNERS IMPOSSIBLE THE
BREAKING NEWS HAD COUNTED ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE,
SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE, TEN, ELEVEN CORNERS OF THE
MIRRORED CORNERS

WHY HAVE YOU DONE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE SOMETHING IS SO
SINISTER WHEN STARRING AT THE DIAMOND SOMETHING YOU
HAVE DONE SO SINISTER WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS AM I IN THE
MIRROR AM I WHAT YOU HAVE BEEN STARRING AT AM I A
DIAMOND?

JUST LIKE A REFLECTION OF A FRIEND OF MINE, I AM A
REFLECTION OF AN ENEMY, AM I A REFLECTION OF AN ENEMY,
JUST LIKE A REFECTION OF A FRIEND OF MINE?

In other news, oh SNAP!

New Noise/Tube :: Des Ark

Some of you might recall my absolute love of Aimee Argote (or simply remember that time she played the Art Garage or The Immaginarium), whose songs absolutely gut you like a fucking fish. So you'll understand I'm excited at the above clip, which not only shows Argote fleshing out Des Ark with a full band again, but playing a raucous new jam called, according to one poster, "FTW, Y'all." Damn yeah.

New(ish) Noise :: Cake: B-Sides & Rarities

Blogging means never having to say you're sorry. Perhaps I'm mixing my metaphors, but my point is that I tell you, dear reader, without any trace of shame that I think Cake is pretty fucking awesome. I think it's unfortunate that the band's sometimes-wistful, sometimes-humorous, always-entertaining twang-pop never really and truly caught on with the American music-listening public — bunch of slack-eared retards that they are — despite two top-five Billboard singles ("Never There" and "The Distance") and two platinum records (not surprisingly 1996's Fashion Nugget and 1998's Prolonging the Magic, which spawned the band's hit singles). The most despicable part is that Cake's existence seems to be relegated, at least among my peer group, to the "Oh, ha ha, remember this band from when we were in middle school?" plane of existence — again, mostly by the slack-eared retards of the yada yada yada. If there have been any constants during Cake's popular — and, yes, I'm using the term loosely — years, one has been John McCrea's deadpan delivery and penchant for snappy wordplay and the other's been cover songs — sometimes sincere (see "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps"), sometimes ironic (see "I Will Survive"), but, again, always entertaining.

Though it's disheartening that Cake's first proper release since 2004 is a covers and B-sides records, it does play well to the band's strengths — that is to say, tuneful, toneful and terribly terrific laconically voiced off-kilter country-fried-jazz-infused-funk-inflected-quasi-indie rock. You can order the cleverly titled B-Sides and Rarities on Cake's official website, where you can also hear clips of the tunes. Among the choice cuts: A cover of "War Pigs" that comes off surprisingly well; and a version of "Mahna Mahna," one of this indierocketeer's favorite songs of all-time. (Not surprisingly, Cake knocks that one out of the park.) There's also a swell version of Sinatra's "Strangers in the Night."

Cake — "Mahna Mahna"
Cake — "War Pigs"

New Noise :: The 4am :: A New Podcast by Warren Ellis

On Monday, British comic scribe, novelist, and Internet Jesus Warren Ellis started a new podcast. Warren's turned me on to lots of good music in the past (including some great Finnish freak folk stuff), and this is no exception. For this particular podcast, he just called for artists to email him a mp3 through his website, and then he picked out his favorites. As he put it, 'I'm podcasting new music by new bands and musicians, because that's what I love.' It's an ongoing series, so if your band wants to submit something to him, just email him at warrenellis@gmail.com (he wants the files at least 128kbps). Some standouts on this first podcast are the ambient pop of Newcastle's Lanterns on the Lake and Albuquerque's Yoda's House who sound something like Godspeed! You Black Emperor doing psychedelic folk. I highly recommend it.

To get the podcast, go here.

New Noise :: Toro y Moi + Brave Horatius

Ah, covers... When they're good, they're good. And when they're bad, they're horrendous. Fortunately, I have two really amazing ones for you today, and they're both local Columbia acts. First up is Toro y Moi, the solo project of The Heist and The Accomplice frontman Chaz Bundick. His take on Beach House's 'Master of None' retains the whimsical vocals of the original while throwing in a danceable beat, fuzzed out bass, and wavy keyboards, making the laid back song an indie dance track. Good stuff, that. Check Toro y Moi out at the Savant Guard label release party at Matchless during CMJ.

[Ed.'s note: Check out our boy getting some Pitchfork love. Just remember: You heard it here first, readers. -p.]

Toro y Moi Master of None (Beach House cover)

An admission first: fellow IndieRocketeer Pat played guitar on this track. But don't worry, he did good. I've talked about Brave Horatius before, but when he was stalling for time before his (now) former band Alaska the Tiger's last show, and he started playing Rihanna's summer jam 'Umbrella,' I knew that a match in cover heaven had been made. While there have been quite a few covers of 'Umbrella,' this one slows everything down to the sad, sweet truth that makes it a hit. It's one of those great covers that takes what seems to be a silly pop song and unearths the beauty underneath. There's no sexy beat implying that the song is about a lover (while I suppose it could be), but just a friend who you would do anything for. Look for it on Brave Horatius's new split with Toronto's Free Kisses during their upcoming tour together (dates here).

Brave Horatius Umbrella (Rihanna cover)

Pick Up :: 09.25.07

Pick Up is IndieRocket's guide to what's awesome out of the week's new releases.


I know this is a bit late, but it's been a busy week over at casa de Indierocket. And after all, you still can (and should) pick up these new releases. First up is Meneguar's highly anticipated sophomore effort Strangers in Our House. Now, I've been known to show up at a certain bar and request for the bartender to play these guys by drunkenly yelling, 'MENEGUAR!' so I might be a little biased, but their new album definitely holds up. Razor's edge vocals, jangly guitars, and must-be-sung-along-to choruses are still the name of the game for these post-punkers, and I, for one, am thankful.

mp3: Meneguar Bury A Flower

Buy Strangers in Our House here.


Next on your buy list should be the self-titled release from Two Gallants. The SF duo with the dirty amalgam of Southern rock, folk, country, and blues hasn't made too many changes here. The self-loathing lyrics, caterwauling vocals, and bombastic drums still stand out. It's loud, mean, and tough, and what else would you expect from these guys? Certainly not a whining 'Don't tase me, bro!' (Sorry. Couldn't help it. Check here for an explanation.) Hearing this record takes me back to seeing them live last year and makes me look forward to hearing these new songs the next time they come around.

mp3: Two Gallants Despite What You've Been Told

Buy Two Gallants here.


Finally, we have the newest from Winnipeg's own The Weakerthans. The Propagandhi-turned-indie popsters are taking a bit more mellow approach on this album, and I think it really works for them. 2007 seems to be the year of the indie rock drummer, and Jason Tait keeps the trend rolling on this album, turning in a great performance. I'm a bit confused about the track I'm posting here. Are they trying to make some reference to REM's 'Night Swimming,' or are they just blatantly ripping it off? Or hell, maybe they never heard it before? I would hope it's some kind of homage/reference that I'm just too dumb to get. You tell me, gentle reader. In any case, it's a great song. Enjoy!

mp3: The Weakerthans Night Windows

Buy Reunion Tour here.

New Noise :: Bat for Lashes, "I'm on Fire" [Bruce Springsteen cover]

I generally and genuinely think that I am one of the only people in my generation — especially among my peer group — without any sort of love or reverence for several "critical" bands — i.e. Guns 'n' Roses, Nirvana, Led Zeppelin, etc. The most baffling to me, though, is Bruce Springsteen. His workmanlike, wholly American roots-rock has influenced so many bands I'm in to that it would see only appropriate — necessary, even — for me to have a certain degree of love for The Boss. You'd think that, but there's something about Bruce that I find absolutely repugnant. Indeed, I could never see it as William Ruhlmann of allmusic.com does: "When Bruce Springsteen finally broke through to national recognition in the fall of 1975 after a decade of trying, critics hailed him as the savior of rock & roll, the single artist who brought together all the exuberance of '50s rock and the thoughtfulness of '60s rock, molded into a '70s style. He rocked as hard as Jerry Lee Lewis, his lyrics were as complicated as Bob Dylan's, and his concerts were near-religious celebrations of all that was best in music." Perhaps those are even the precise reasons I don't like him — I find The Boss smug, jingoistic and too beat-you-over-the-head-and-cram-it-down-your-throat patriotic for my liking. As it stands, I find Born to Run boring, Born in the U.S.A terrible and Nebraska underwhelming. Odder still: My favorite Springsteen song — indeed, the only one I like (and yes, I know it's on Born in the U.S.A.) — is "I'm on Fire," not generally considered among the "Born to Run"s and "The Rising"s that comprise the best of The Boss' oeuvre. A desperate and harrowing obsessive-love song on par with The Police's "Every Breath You Take," "I'm on Fire" is criminally underrated.

So why is it that I don't like Bat for Lashes' cover? I think it's for the same reasons I didn't like Sun Kil Moon's Modest Mouse tribute piece, Tiny Cities. While I don't particularly have anything against artists taking liberties with cover songs — indeed, sometimes, as in the case of Pavement's cover of R.E.M.'s "Camera," it rewrites the song in an exemplary manner that enlightens and elucidates the listener to a radical interpretation of form and file — there comes a point where disregarding the source material is done at great disservice to performance. Again, I cite Mark Kozelek rewriting Isaac Brock — the former's velvety baritone and gentle picking aren't suited for the latter's jittery caterwaul and staccato fretwork. And so it goes with Bat for Lashes, who not only disregards "I'm on Fire"'s original tempo and ornamentation, slowing it to an ornate Victorian dirge, and The Boss' vocal cadence, but at times even changes the words. I'm not talking simple pronoun replacement — indeed, the song just fine from a female perspective; but the one thing I've always handed to Springsteen was his ability to cogently and masterfully string words together. To fuck with that is egregious. Pitchfork's Mark Richardson might say that "there's something to be said for a cover that transports the original song to another world," but maybe, just maybe, women from Venus shouldn't cover songs written by men from Mars.

Bat for Lashes — "I'm on Fire" [Bruce Springsteen cover] (via Pitchfork)

New(ish) Noise :: 09.14.07

Allow me to indulge myself (and, hopefully, you, dear reader) by letting me tell you what's been rocking my world — in the parlance of our times — lately.

Firstly, we have the brilliant Scot-rock quartet The Twilight Sad. Very reminiscent of the early material of Scot-rockers Idlewild (particularly the fantastic 100 Broken Windows record), Fourteen Autmns, Fifteen Winters also owes a great deal to the swirling, effects-laden shoegaze of Ride and Slowdive, the epic loud-quiet dynamic of post-rockers Explosions in the Sky and the swank, suave indie-garage aesthetic of The Walkmen. Tug's jam is "Cold Days from the Birdhouse," but my money's on "And She Would Darken the Memory of Youth," where singer James Graham's Scottish brogue is in full display, veering from a gentle croon to full-on Hamilton Leithause screeching. And goddamn if Andy MacFarlane can't make enough racket by himself to account for twenty fucking axeslayers.

The Twilight Sad — "And She Would Darken the Memory of Youth"

Then we have Plastic Little. A friend of mine introduced me to the hilarious Baltimore rap group a few weeks ago, and I've been rocking that shit ever since. Now, don't get the wrong impression — Plastic Little is funny in the way that Spank Rock is funny or that De La Soul's Three Feet High and Rising is funny. Equally adept at spitting trash-mouth rhymes, utterly un-P.C. obnoxiousness and acute social and hip-hop commentary — often in the same song — Plastic Little is bringing the fun back into hip-hop that all those no-talent hack emcees (yes, I'm talking to you, 50 Cent, Master P, etc.) took out.

Plastic Little — "The Jump Off"
Bonus: YouTube videos? Them's the Jump Off!

Being a complete and utter guitar-gear nerd, I frequent several gearhead-oriented web sites. Occasionally, I'll check out the music of forum members, usually based on how cool I think his/her rig is. And that's how I stumbled across L.A. indie rock quintet Divisadero. (What can I say: Dudeman plays a Jazzmaster through a Deluxe Reverb. Mmm ... tone.) On its MySpace page, Divisadero says it sounds like "Driving through the desert at 4 a.m.," which is a super-astute observation — Divisadero's worn desert-indie-folk sounds like Neil Young (circa Everybody Knows This is Nowhere) filtered Spiritualized, Stereolab and Yo La Tengo. The result: Absolutely perfect gems such as "Black and Blue" and epic, stunning "I Dreamt of the Apocalypse." Gentlemen (and lady), I beseech thee: Come to the Palmetto State.

http://www.myspace.com/soundsofdivisadero

New Noise :: Jens Lekman :: 'A Postcard To Nina'

So you may have missed Pitchfork flipping out about the new Jens Lekman record Night Falls Over Kortedala (out in Europe now, out here Oct. 9th). While I'm not sure that the record deserves the massive accolades the Pforkers are heaping on it, I've only had a day to process it, and I have to admit that it is pretty spectacular. The most anticipated track on the album for me is 'A Postcard To Nina,' which I had originally heard as a live mp3 from some festival date. On the live track, Jens tells the audience the story behind the song in between verses in one of the most charming 'behind the music' moments I've ever heard. Basically, Jens' friend Nina, instead of telling her German Catholic father that she's gay, tells him that her and Jens are engaged. Hysterically awkward moments ensue.

I thought I would miss the little explanatory monologue from the live track, but the song lyrics tell you everything you need to know (except for the horribly embarrassing part where Nina's father tells Jens that listening to his music is like the first time he heard Elvis). And since I've already told you that part, you can now listen to this sweet little diddy and get stoked about the whole album coming out next month.

Jens Lekman A Postcard To Nina

Pre-order Night Falls Over Kortedala here.

New Noise :: Band of Horses, "Is There a Ghost?"

As good sir Tug and I are people who know people, we were fortunate enough to have heard some of the Band of Horses demos that Ben Bridwell and company did in Columbia a while back. (No, we don't have any MP3s.) Even back then — and again seeing it performed live in Charleston — I remember being monumentally underwhelmed with "Is There a Ghost?" It's not that it's a bad song; on the contrary, it has all the soaring vocals and chiming guitars characteristic of Everything All the Time. But "Is There a Ghost?" is a curious lead track from Cease to Begin. I'll look beyond the annoyingly erroneous tense shift in the chorus — "But when I lived alone / Is there a ghost in my house?" (italics ours) — and focus on the fact that "Is There a Ghost" is just plain boring. Much of the reason I enjoyed Everything All the Time was its impressive use of dynamic tension, something entirely lacking from "Is There a Ghost?" Everything has a lifeless quality, from the uninspired, fourteen-word lyrics to the half-assed guitar solo in the coda. Look, I get it; you guys like Crazy Horse. But at least Neil kept it interesting.

That said, I'd like to say that what I've been privileged to hear from Cease to Begin is much, much awesomer.

[Ed.'s Note: An eagle-eared (???) reader notes: "The tense shift isn't erroneous. 'I could sleep / when I lived alone' --past tense because he was alone but now he's not. Now he's wondering if there is a ghost in his house." I had erroneously heard a "but" in the latter line. That said, I still the song kind of blows.]

Band of Horses — "Is There a Ghost?"

edited at 12:41 p.m. on 09.14.07.

New(ish) Noise :: Grand Archives

So I can't believe it's taken me this long to post about Grand Archives. I have this problem with getting nervous about writing about music that I love with a sizable piece of my heart. I want to do it some creative justice, but I eventually just have to bite the bullet and sound like the crazed music geek that I am.

Grand Archives is the new band put together by Mat Brooke (formerly of Carissa's Weird and then Band of Horses). While I was sad to hear that Brooke left Band of Horses, the creation of Grand Archives more than makes up for it. Comparisons to BoH are probably going to plague the Brooke's new band, so I'll go ahead and get it out of the way. If Band of Horses is the first few days of summer, then Grand Archives is those magical days when fall turns into winter - when sucking in the crisp air makes a man feel like he can accomplish anything. There's a certain majesty to the music, and when Brooke croons, 'Hey, darlin', don't you look nice?/The dull look in your eyes/Well, you're terrified', in 'Torn Blue Foam Couch,' it's impossible not to feel a knowing shiver in your spine. And then the song just builds and builds, first adding handclaps over the rising piano, then roaring guitar and machine gun drums. It's cinematic in its beauty.

Download this goodness and then head to their MySpace page to hear the other three songs on their amazing self-released EP.

Grand Archives - Torn Blue Foam Couch

Grand Archives on MySpace