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Month: November 2011

Edelweiss sports an impressive sound that melds mystery and precision

Bloc Party has always fascinated me with their deft balance of cold precision and intense emotion. Bands that follow in their footsteps often fall on one side of the other the divide, never quite capturing the tension that made the band so magic. Still, failing to appropriate BP’s majesty most often results in excellent work in its own right, and that’s the case with EdelweissPre-Columbians EP.

The band has immediate BP trademarks in the precise guitar tone, cold atmospherics and post-punk rhythms. But the band infuses the five tunes here with a air of mystery, a la Minus the Bear. These tunes aren’t as cut and dried as Kele Okereke and co. make: there’s space for interpretation in these tunes, both in the less didactic vocals and the focus on the whole of the tune instead of on dramatic guitar riffs. That’s not to say there aren’t solid vocal melodies and interesting guitarwork: plenty of both abound in the EP. But the focus is on the song as a whole, not one revelatory guitar line.

This makes tunes like “Witches and Vampires” and “Icarus” incredibly evocative tunes, creating a space for the listener to inhabit. They don’t necessarily fill that space, but they do fashion it. “A Sound From Pennsylvania” goes positively post-rock, applying the techniques from their indie-rock to a subdued, twinkly instrumental. It works impeccably.

Pre-Columbians by Edelweiss shows a band with firm control of its sound. That’s remarkable for a band as young as Edelweiss; hopefully they won’t become trapped in that which they already understand. This EP can be a great launching point for an interesting indie-rock career, or it can be a cruel dictator that keeps them in the same lane for the rest of the band’s life. Here’s to hoping the former comes true, and Edelweiss keeps churning out high-quality music for lovers of this particular style of indie-rock. Keep us guessing, Edelweiss; you’ve done great at that so far.

Alt-country + alt-rock = Man Made Sea

A quintessential staple of ’90s rock was the slacker who sounded as if the song he was singing was all that was worth getting excited about in the world. Man Made Sea takes that mentality and runs with it, adding in a liberal dose of alt-country to create a laconic yet engaging sound for the 15 minutes of Super Saver.

The band opens with “Devil,” which is a walking-pace country tune that gets swallowed up by ’90s distortion. It’s an ear-catching opener, subverting expectations at every turn. The title track is a slower take on the same sound that’s short enough to get by on the ominous vocal performance and nostalgia factor. It’s “Hammer” where the band finally lets it rip: Vocal hooks galore traipse about on top of a backdrop that perfectly meshes the sweeping feel of alt-country to the slacker ideals of Weezer’s era. The song builds to all sorts of excellent at the end of the track, and it’s easily the best track here.

After a too-’90s Beck-ian tune (“Heart of a Grizzly”), the band closes up shop with the acoustic “Holmes Sweet Holmes,” which fits quite well. The song lands somewhere between Joseph Arthur and Alexi Murdoch on the chill-ometer.

Man Made Sea has an easily likable sound and songwriting chops to pull it off. You’ll be rocking out to “Devil,” humming “Hammer” and putting “Holmes Sweet Holmes” on mixtapes for girls, and as I’ve noted before, those are pretty much the three best reasons I listen to music. That’s a trifecta for Man Made Sea and a win for you, if you check the band out.

Pete Davis' Conglomerate is a brilliant 95-minute album

Aaron Sprinkle likes to title his albums with a negative adjective so that reviewers have a free but unimaginative potshot readymade. (My favorite album of his is Lackluster, har har.) Pete Davis has done a similar thing in naming one of the tracks off The Pottsville Conglomerate “Behemoth.” I mean, when you write an album with a 96-minute runtime, then put “Behemoth” on there, you’re asking for the easy line.

But, just as the behemoth and the leviathan in the Book of Job, this “Behemoth” (both song and album) are wonders to behold, not clunky stompers. This is an intricately crafted album of thoughtful, powerful, highly orchestrated indie music that runs the gamut from Seven Swans whisperfolk (“Fool,” “Hymnal”) to frantic freakouts of drum-pounding, throat-shredding rock (“Behemoth,” “Let Every Evil Lung Fill”). The sections often happen in the same track, even back-to-back. The rest of the sections are filled in with piano-pop, carnival-esque melodies, acoustic guitar tunes, and more. This isn’t 95 minutes of space: this is a jam-packed extravaganza.

It is brilliant.

Pete Davis’ vision for the album is incredible; throughout the 95 minutes, the songs rarely drag. There are high points and low points, as with any album, but that’s a serious accomplishment for an album of this length, breadth and scope. Much of this can be laid at the doorstep of Davis’ acrobatic, magnetic vocals. He frequently multitracks himself into chorales, making good vocals even better.

Besides the aforementioned tracks, the romantic “A Bathhouse for Bloodhounds,” delicate opener “There Is An Ocean,” the folksy ditty “As Far as the Rails Go” and dramatic closer “Chrysopoeia” stick out for special mention. As there are 16 tracks here, I still haven’t mentioned half of the album, but you’ll have to figure those out yourself.

If you search “Pete Davis Pottsville Conglomerate,” a thread on AbsolutePunk will come up proclaiming that the album “will change your life.” This album is the sort that causes people to get hyperbolic, and with good reason: the songwriting is brilliant, and there’s a whole, whole lot of it going on. Definitely a favorite of the year. (Goodness gracious, it’s that time again!)

Icona Pop unleashes majestic singles upon the dance-pop world

If the next big thing exists, it’s Icona Pop. (With the fickleness of the Internet, the “next big thing” is a pretty fluid concept.) But for those who are chasing good tunes instead of hipness, I’ve got a prescription for you: “Nights Like This,” off the EP of the same name.

Yes, “Manners” took over everything when it was released – it even got appropriated by Chiddy Bang. But “Nights Like This” is even better. It’s more adrenalized, catchier, and more fun. There’s less cold, Age of Adz-esque pretension and more party-bangin’ beats and synths, followed by a euphoric rush of wild “whoa-oh”s. It’s the sort of thing that must have sounded absolutely monster when they were writing it, because it’s pulled off with an assertive confidence that sells that which was doing just fine on its own. You know when you know, you know?

“Manners” is awesome as well, what with its slithering rhythms and squelching bass synths. The chanting vocals that everyone’s been humming are still awesome. “Lovers to Friends” is a pretty standard synth-pop tune, absent of all the unusual rhythms that make Icona Pop so unique and interesting. Unsurprisingly, it’s the least effective tune here.

“Sun Goes Down” features The Knocks and is a return to the dark, spacious, clubby tunes. Low, modified male vocals contribute significantly to the creepiness of the track, and the whole thing comes off as proof that Icona Pop could have more staying power than two magnificent singles.

I sure hope they have staying power, because anything even resembling the thrill of “Nights Like This” would be enough to keep them on my high rotation. Hear all the audio here.