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Month: September 2011

Bottle Up and Explode write the songs you always thought you knew

Published September 20, 2011 by Stephen Carradini

The Big Bang Theory is one of the best sitcoms on TV right now because it’s nothing but a sitcom. It has a laugh track, quirky characters, and pretty much one situation for the entirety of its existence. In this era of mockumentary sitcoms, dramedies, and other innovative comedy programming, the best comedy is one that doesn’t break any rules. It just does the old rules really, really well.

Bottle Up and Explode‘s Kingsley is the audio analogue of The Big Bang Theory. Bottle Up plays mid-tempo indie-rock that’s well-informed by ’90s pop and ’00s indie-pop melody structures. There are guitar solos (check it, “We Just Want a Party”), Strokes-ian jangle (“Summer in the South”) and tension-laden sparse sections that recall U2 and Bloc Party (“Breakfast”).

What it all adds up to is “Axiomatic,” which features an upbeat riff and perky drumming overlaid with a twinkly guitar line in the verses before blasting into a synth and “yeahiyeahiyeah!” chorus. It’s the sort of song that you swear you’ve heard before, but know you haven’t. It’s the sort of song that propels an EP to the front page of Purevolume.com.

But the songwriting isn’t the only feature that sets this apart. If a song is one part what you wrote and another how you played it, Bottle Up has both sides covered. The tunes here are pulled off with a swagger that sells it easily. Vocalist Chris Cargile has a voice that conveys emotion and enthusiasm without losing the sense of cool that is fundamental to his timbre and Bottle Up and Explode’s sound. Cargile doesn’t sound disaffected, he sounds measured — excited when it’s exciting, chill when it’s chill. Yes, like the name.

The six-song, seven-track Kingsley (“Axiomatic” gets an acoustic version) is a blast to hear. Bottle Up and Explode is in firm control of its sound, and that allows them to do thingswith it instead of be at its mercy. Summer may be ending, but parties don’t, and I can hear “Axiomatic” at your next (and next and next) shindig. Jump on this.

The Fox and the Bird balance sobriety and beauty in their folk

Published September 19, 2011 by Stephen Carradini

During my travels this summer, I had the good fortune to see The Fox and the Bird play live. Their serious-minded folk tunes had a familial warmth that made them fun to hear, despite their overt lack of cuteness or kitsch. It was quite nice to hear a sober-minded folk band, what with all the indie quirk to which I’ve become accustomed.

The band’s album Floating Feather delivers much of the same. If anything, they amp up both sides of their equation; the band sounds even more stately than they do live, but that highly organized sound allows for delicate, loving instrumental touches to stand out.

This is best shown on “Women in the Kitchen,” a heartfelt lament about original sin that features banjo, stand-up bass, guitar and glorious group harmonies. It conveys the deep sadness of the situation without getting maudlin or telegraphing “THIS IS SAD” (it’s not sparse, nor is it “dark” or slow). The band relies on emotive instrumental and vocal performances paired with a great set of lyrics to get the point across.

And that’s ultimately what’s so good about The Fox and the Bird. They can come off as a bit sterile compared to heart-on-sleeve acts like Mumford, but just because the band isn’t going for the jugular doesn’t mean they aren’t pumping blood through every vein. “Oldest Old” is another desperately sad song conveyed through vocals, performances and lyrics. It was striking live (especially way they frame the violin line), and it’s just the same recorded.

Another standout is “Hey Sister,” the closer. The band picked it well, as it reiterates many of the themes through the album (family, traveling, sadness, beautiful songwriting, great vocals) and filters it into a conclusion. You should end your next mixtape for a girl with it.

Floating Feather is an excellent album that balances beauty and sobriety. You can sing along, read to it, or drive to it late at night. You will almost certainly feel like you’ve heard the songs already, because your connection with them will be forged that quickly. Do yourself a favor and pick up Floating Feather.

"She like pity parties, I like witty banter"

Published September 16, 2011 by Stephen Carradini

Hoodie Allen‘s first mixtape Pep Rally was incredible because RJ Ferguson perfectly appropriated indie-rock as beats, giving Allen an unimpeachable framework. Allen coulda rapped the phone book, and I would have loved it.

Allen’s second mixtape Leap Year is incredible because Hoodie Allen is an excellent rapper. I mentioned in my previous review that he wins the namecheck award, but in Leap Year he uses his extensive pop culture knowledge to make witty jokes and provide social commentary.

Allen’s past writing songs for their own wit’s sake, and now he’s enjoying the fact that his wit can take him places. This newfound maturity is definitely related to the fact that Leap Year comes from his first year of making a living off music. Allen lives in his skin here instead of trying to appropriate a (hopefully) future self.

Not to say that RJ Ferguson drops the ball: RJF (as Allen so monikers him in the acknowledgments) is even better at his craft here. Pep Rally played the “Yeah, but do you know THIS song?” game, while Leap Year is (appropriately) over it. The smooth yet perky beats here are clearly from something, but I have no idea what. The beats float the rhymes very pleasantly and don’t distract, which is awesome.

This is best shown in standouts “James Franco” and “#WhiteGirlProblems.” The former, easily the funniest of the tracks here, uses a sample of (get this) “Clap Your Hands,” the second track off Black Eyed Peas’ 1998 debut album Behind the Front. Talk about deep cuts – that thing wasn’t even a single. “James Franco” is a party anthem, as well as an update on Hoodie’s last year; it includes a hilarious name-check to a music video that people “didn’t believe” — including me. The beat’s got movement, Hoodie’s flow is strong, the wordplay is fun and clever, and the whole thing comes off perfectly.

“#WhiteGirlProblems” morphs Eliza Doolittle into a hook singer, just like Marina and the Diamonds from Pep Rally‘s “You Are Not A Robot.” He takes on exactly what the title says, culminating in a great list of people who have white girl problems – and I don’t want to ruin the punchline. Seriously. Listen to it.

Also not to be missed: “Soul on Fire,” “You’re Welcome” and the single “Dreams Up.”

There’s still room to grow for Hoodie. His slower, more serious songs (“Push You Away,” “Moon Bounce”) fall short of the brilliance he displays as a hyperactive cultural commentator. While the songs aren’t bad, they currently feel out of character for him — and thus stick out oddly on the album. But there’s a huge jump from his last mixtape to this in maturity, so it’s reasonable to assume that some time will hammer out this issue.

Hoodie Allen’s Leap Year is a fantastic mixtape. The density of the lyrics will keep listeners coming back for more, and the excellent beats will keep them pleased while spinning it repeatedly. What else can you ask for in a mixtape? Hoodie kills it. Pick it up free here.

Auburn BOTB, pt 2

Published September 16, 2011 by Stephen Carradini

Part two of my BOTB coverage begins with Maven, whose modern pop sound was a big hit with the ladies (and some crazy dancing dudes, one of whom jumped up on stage). They did an impressive cover of Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance,” then launched into an epic-length original. The bassist knew what was up; he was going to town on that thing.

Ska band Blame Sydney took the stage next, and they absolutely rocked it. Their many members were energetic and mobile, their tunes were fun and ready to dance to, and their fun-loving vibe was infectious. I loved every second of it.

The rock/blues act Sweet Jimmy Carter and the Outlaws commanded the audience’s attention for the final act. The band was tight with each other, as they rolled off stomping blues licks both traditional and original. Their visual presence was impressive (see below), and their swagger was undeniable. They were a blast to hear and see.

The winners? 3. Bottle Up and Explode 2. Sweet Jimmy Carter and the Outlaws 1. Blame Sydney. Maven took the fan favorite vote.

Auburn Battle of the Bands, set 1

Published September 14, 2011 by Stephen Carradini

I love discovering a battle of the bands. As an underappreciated music blogger, I find a lot of great music simply because I’ll go and listen. Sometimes there are terrible bands surrounding the diamonds, but Auburn UPC’s recent battle had a stacked line-up that provided a wildly entertaining evening. Their excellent choice of emcee in Brandon Crocker also helped create a splendid evening (no lame jokes! yes! yes! yes!). All six bands were worth noting, so I’m splitting coverage of Friday’s event into two days.

Just Marked played some modern acoustic pop, heavy on the falsetto. The band played together well, both on originals and on “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough.” I’m not the biggest fan of cajon, but the performance was solid.

Bottle Up and Explode, who I fell in love with a couple weeks ago at Eighth and Rail, were a pleasant surprise in the second slot. They brought their Bishop Allen/Strokes-ian indie-rock/indie-pop to the stage with energy. (The lead guitarist got especially into it.) It’s just really, really fun to watch Bottle Up play — you get to sing along, shimmy a bit and smile tons.

The earthy, rooted sound of Gypsies With Knives graced my ears next. With powerful, clear vocals and great instrumental interplay, the band creates a neat mix between jam-band, southern and shanty rock.

Single: "Real American Boy" – The Pizza Thieves

Published September 12, 2011 by Stephen Carradini

Norman, Okla., is pretty baller. It has a great music scene, unique businesses, and an artsy culture that you wouldn’t expect from Oklahoma. I’m proud to have called it home for five years.

The Pizza Thieves also call it home. The two-piece garage/surf/indie duo just released their first single “Real American Boy,” and it sounds like grunge kids crashing a surf party. When it really gets going at the end, it sounds (unsurprisingly, given the description I just gave) like The Pixies. This should be nothing but exciting to you.

Some bands get lost in their genre, but this release has a “song first” mentality that, if continued, could take The Pizza Thieves far. Here’s to hoping their upcoming album “Hippopotamus” is as awesome as this tune is.

Vids! Blogs! Rivals!

Published September 10, 2011 by Stephen Carradini

Since releasing Faint Not earlier this year, everything that Jenny and Tyler touch turns to gold. Or, in the case of this gorgeous music video for one of the album’s best tracks, yellow.

Google, not satisfied with controlling every piece of information ever, has announced a music discovery site (read: blog) called Magnifier. Excuse me while I go weep. All joking aside, it’s well-thought out, just like everything Google does.

The title track off Andrew Belle’s The Ladder gets the hand-drawn treatment.

Kickstarter, still one of the best ideas in a long time, now has some competition. (FREE MARKETS RULZ!1!!1!1?!) PledgeMusic cuts out all those pesky other arts that Kickstarter supports. The twist that makes it different than Kickstarter? You can designate some of the funds you raise to a charity of your choice. That’s pretty cool. Charming songstress Meiko brought this site to my attention. And if nothing else, you can hear “Boys With Girlfriends” at that site, which is hilarious/heartbreaking. And watch the pledge video, which is hilarious (without the heartbreaking).

The Hague's indie-rock sound makes me pine for earlier days

Published September 9, 2011 by Stephen Carradini

Anathallo had a profound impact on my understanding of what indie rock should sound like. The early years of the band featured highly orchestrated arrangements, melodies that were catchy as much due to their complex rhythm as hummable qualities and surprising songwriting turns. Indie rock has moved away from this sound, but I have not. I’ll still up any band that gives me unexpected songwriting moves.

The Hague is on my good list in that regard. The band’s songs are nothing if not unpredictable. Whether ratcheting up to a crushing rush of guitar or dropping down to group vocals and tapped cymbal, the band plays with the ideas of how pop songs should work. To wit: those two parts I noted happen next to each other in “I’m Sorry.”

What sets The Hague apart from the pack and into Anathallo-excellent territory is patience in letting things unfold and excellent guitar work. All three tracks on the Stark House EP feature quick-paced, distinctive guitar runs that sound wonderful. They’re more prominent on “Valkyrie” and “I’m Sorry” than “California Curse,” but the goodness is present throughout. There are strings in and out of each piece. The tunes rock as well as quirk. That’s just awesome.

This type of indie-rock is embedded in my mind as Chicago-style, even if it’s not true. This is because of the way I view Chicago: less cut-throat than New York, less image-conscious than LA, less hip than Austin, less socially conscious than Portland, less jaded than Seattle. The Chicago of my mind is a place where smart guys have day jobs and also play rock shows of unusual music that they wrote in the basement with their friends. Someone played french horn/violin/other, because he had the instrument and he wanted to.

(Chicagoans are shaking their heads. Whatever. I’ve been to your city. It’s awesome. Let me compliment your hometown with half-truths if I feel like it.)

And that’s how I view The Hague (who were until recently tagged with the ironic moniker “And Then I Was Like, What?”, which only strengthens my opinion): A bunch of guys just doing their thing, even though they are in fact from Portland. And their thing (currently, the Stark House EP) is great. Check them out if you miss Anathallo or indie rock circa 2005 in general.

Gray Young's maturity creates a gorgeous post-rock/folk album

Published September 8, 2011 by Stephen Carradini

The genres of folk and post-rock are bursting at the seams with new acts. It was only a matter of time before someone combined the two. Gray Young is the first band I’ve heard that treats both post-rock and folk with individual dignity, creating the incredible Staysail as a result.

The band doesn’t mash folk and post-rock together: this isn’t folktronica. Instead, they tie the disparate sounds together by a distinct mood that runs through each of the 11 tracks. Whether rocking out in a frantic manner (“Inside/Outside”), penning reflective post-rock (“The Dawning Low”) or strumming an acoustic guitar in a very Deja Entendu sort of way (“Unbound”), the band maintains a deeply affected atmosphere. The songs, while not expressly heavy in lyric or composition, maintain a mournful intensity in the background. You can tell they mean this.

That maturity sets Gray Young apart. They’re over post-rock as a statement, and they’re past folk for the earthiness of it. The band is creating art in the best way it knows how, and that requires banjo pluck on “Unbound” and Appleseed Cast-invoking riffs on the standout “Vermilion.” There are some tricks here and there: “Picture (Meridian)” is followed by “Meridian (Picture),” while “Seven:Fourteen” is a bit of a kitschy title. But for the most part, the band is not amazed at their own genre(s). They just write music.

The band does have a vocalist, but most of the time vocals are another instrument, much in the same way Appleseed Cast uses them. When his vocals become to close to the forefront they distract, but he fits in perfectly to tunes like “Cycles” and the first half of “Meridian (Picture).” Still, I could stand to hear less vocals due to their incredible instrumental talents.

Some may take offense that I put folk on par with post-rock in my description, even though just three songs here are led by acoustic guitar (and only two prominently feature banjo). Sure, this isn’t Mumford and Sons with a shoegaze guitarist. But the understanding of the melodic and structural requirements of folk underlie many songs on this album: the rhythm of the banjo on “Prescience” is slightly altered and transposed to electric guitar as the song turns into “Vermilion.” It’s an electrifying transition that shows Gray Young is in complete control of two genres, making them connect as the band decides is best. And, incredibly, the transition out to “Picture (Meridian)” is handled just as deftly.

I’ve heard several great post-rock albums this year, and Staysail is up there with the very best of them (Colin Stetson, Final Days Society). It’s an easy contender for the top ten list, because it’s just so expertly written. There’s not a moment here that gets away from the band. That complete control of mood and composition makes this the excellent album it is. Long live Gray Young.