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July Music Reviews
UNWED SAILOR
The Marionette and the Music Box
(Burnt Toast)
 It's
unfortunate that incidental music is often misjudged as
something more than what it is intended to be. Background
music is supposed to be passive, a tool used in scoring
film, providing ambiance or, in the case of The Marionette
and the Music Box, employed as accompaniment to an illustrated
storybook. Sparse tonal guitars ring with restrained melody,
cohabiting pockets of silence with various percussive and
atmospheric electronic elements, to create the sonic backdrop
for illustrator Jamie Hunt to set his story of friendship
between the two title characters in motion. Beautifully
packaged and art directed, it would be a disservice to both
musician and artist if The Marionette and the Music Box
wasn't reviewed for its merit as a piece of creative integrated
media. Unfortunately it won't, and many will fault Unwed
Sailor for contributing yet another seemingly derivative
instrumental record of minimalist compositional guitar.
I know it's the soundtrack for a kid's book and all, so
excuse me when I say 'fuck 'em.' This is simply beautiful,
cinematic scoring, drawing comparisons to the poetics of
Gastr del Sol and the variable timbre of Bill Frisell or
Pullman. Sombre, calming and, at times even ringing with
the Gothic tones of medieval composition, it is nothing
less than classical music for kids raised on Slint and Don
Caballero, not Teletubbies and Raffi. I'm not sure how many
6 year olds will cozy up with The Marionette and the Music
Box, but I know that for us adults, there are times when
we need our music to just shut up and be.
-- Steve Marchese
IKARA COLT
Basic Instructions EP
(Epitaph)
 It's
unfortunate when trends really catch fire, reach their climax
and
ultimately lead to the expeditious demise of a genre. I
can already see the
fallout from the current "Dance Punk" revival
littering Williamsburg as kids
scurry like roaches to find the next cool thing. The positive
side to all
this transient fad-ness, is that when 1000 bands all show
up at the party,
the newbies and posers get weeded out for the amateurs they
truly are. And
I'm sure the British quartet Ikara Colt will be smiling
however, because
when the Battle Royale is finished, they have as good a
chance as any of
ending up with the belt. Solid, minimal post-punk guitar
drives the 5 tracks
on this EP, and tasteful programmed electro beats help propel
the tracks to
Danceland. Like Radio 4, !!! or The Eternals, this is well
played, well
written and fun music with a darker edge then that offered
up by the
bambinos in Brooklyn. And thankfully, they are confident
enough to forgo the
"The" -- not another "The" band (The
Strokes, The Vue, The Faint, et al)
and that should count for something.
-- Steve Marchese
YES NEW YORK
Various Artists
(Vice Recordings)
 Yes,
New York, there certainly is something special happening.
Although comparisons to other important New York musical
movements like Proto-Punk, No Wave, and NY Hardcore are
certainly premature, the Big Apple has never seen a proliferation
of talented indie bands quite like the one currently under
way. Although I recognize that a couple of the bands included
on Vice's (yep, like the mag) new comp are major label trustafarians,
the majority are hard-working musicians, many transplants
from other parts of the country, looking to tap into the
area's massive, enthusiastic audience. The playlist reads
like a college CMJ report and includes the obvious commercial
participants like The Strokes, Interpol and Longwave; cornerstones
of the Dance Punk movement Radio 4, The Rapture and The
Fever; quirky pop pushers The Walkmen, The Natural History
and Ted Leo; dark minimal rockers Calla; electro punk Brooklynites
LCD Soundsystem, The Rogers Sisters and Unitard; and lastly,
seeming somewhat out of place, here come the Secret Machines.
The list is impressive and indicative that yes, a helluva
lot more than a tree is growing in Brooklyn. Seattle, Louisville,
Chapel Hill and now, yes, New York.
-- Steve Marchese
FIN FANG FOOM
With the Gift Comes the Curse
(Lovitt)
 Fin
Fang Foom. Of all the images and sentiments the name invokes,
you're
forgiven if you weren't thinking of either a brooding post-punk
trio or a
Marvel Comics monster created by Stan Lee in 1961. Presumably
named after
their horrific fictional namesake (introduced, of course,
in Strange Tales
#89, duh) the band formed in Jacksonville, FL in 1996, went
through a rough
patch in '97, experiencing the loss of an original member,
and then
relocated to the indie mecca of Chapel Hill, NC, touring
hard, releasing
vinyl and cultivating their sound. Richly melodic yet haunting,
Fin Fang
Foom rely primarily on the propulsive post-rock devices
utilized by obvious
influences like Fugazi and Jawbox -- tight, dissonant guitar
parts;
dramatic, bombastic drumming; solid bass lines tethered
resolutely to the
rhythm. The addition of significant piano melodies add a
darker cinematic
quality, not unlike the building drones incorporated by
The 90 Day Men or
even Faith No More (don't forget that Roddy was all over
the keys). Although
the alliteration and etymology of their name may appear
whimsical, their
music is anything but, filled with a mature, emotional density
and
introspective dynamic fire rarely seen in these days dominated
by the
nostalgic shake-ya-ass hedonism of dance-oriented punk rock.
With the Gift
Comes the Curse is supremely moody and affecting, yet unlike
Sigur Ros or
even Radiohead, shuns the stillness of mystery for the immediacy
of
epiphany.
-- Steve Marchese
MINIBAR
Fly Below the Radar
(Foodchain Records)
 Fans
of Beachwood Sparks, Brendan Benson, and Elliott Smith might
well love this CD. It is impeccably crafted, richly orchestrated,
deeply American roots rock, so much so that it's hard to
believe they're British. Yet it's too slick; there are no
rough edges or surprises.
"It Is What It Is" is a strong opener, all shimmering,
layered guitars and
an upbeat bass line. The drums are snappy and propulsive,
providing a foil
for the mellow vocals and thoughtful lyrics about "sunlight
on the wall."
An aggressive, psychedelic guitar part in the middle provides
further
dynamics. The first few songs work along similar lines and
have a force of
motion the other tunes lack.
As for the rest, it's mainly laid back, sophisticated easy
listening music
that demands very little of the listener. It's pleasant
enough. Minibar's
lyrics are a strong point, painting clear images and dropping
American place
names such as New Mexico, west Texas, and South Dakota.
Poetry abounds, such
as the "rusty old car/abandoned by the side of the
road" and "shadows on the
rocks/a field of crucifixion trees." It's easy to get
lost in Minibar's
rocking chair rhythms and dreamy melodies, with wearily
drawled vocals
reminiscent of early Peter Gabriel. Harmonium, accordion,
tack piano and
pedal steel flesh out their sound. When the instrumental
passages rise and
swell my interest is almost captured but invariably, the
song sinks back
into some flaccid, predictable zone. Still, this may become
your soundtrack
for the summer, an aural break from the hubbub of city life.
-- Laura Markley
Electronicat
"21st Century Toy"
(Disko
B)
 Parisian
artist Fred Bigot, a.k.a. Electronicat, combines simple
electronic rhythms and sequences, spare guitar-pop, and
vacuous lyricism to create a sort-of electromod sound on
"21st Century Toy," his new full-length on the
German Disko B label. Bigot successfully blurs the line
between the retro electro and sixties revivals, with booming
kick drums and jangly guitar licks.
The Vox organ is replaced by a synth patch, but the age
of Aquarius still manages to permeate the proceedings as
Bigot saves his highest of high-tech gear for studio tricks,
and not for instrumentation. In fact, the repetitive rhythms
and synth sounds rarely, if ever, vary from track to track
and have a kind of cheap sound about them -- sounding quite
a bit like Suicide.
Mostly self-produced, "Toy" reflects Bigot's
good ear for hard edits and ability to create space within
each track. However, his mostly English lyrics are as empty
as the sound of his treble-kicking guitar, and come off
as rather pretentious. Followers of fashion -- glam, electroclash,
or otherwise -- are sure to appreciate the roots of style
found in the music of Electronicat, but most will likely
find that "21st Century Toy" lacks substance.
-- SK
The Brian Jonestown Massacre
Spacegirl & Other Favorites
(2003, The Committee to Keep Music Evil/Bomp!
Records)
 Just
abandon your notions of verse-chorus-verse and the three-minute
pop
ditty and make way for the celestial sounds of the BJM.
This is a CD reissue
of a rare album (vinyl pressing of 500) from 1993 with six
unreleased bonus
tracks included. One has to admire Anton Alfred Newcombe
(and his shifting
phalanx of talented musicians) for pursuing his singular
vision for over a
decade now, indifferent to critical or commercial success.
But the BJM's
loyal following know that this is the vintage Vox guitar,
future hippy,
space-rock soundtrack for tomorrow.
If you're waiting for something to happen, you're trying
too hard. Just
let the sound envelop you -- the layered, repetitive guitars,
the
tambourine, and the ominous, sustained fuzztone note underneath
the pretty
acoustic stuff. Get your mind blown by the Farfisa that
comes in half way
through "Spacegirl," with ethereal vocals and
lyrics that are sometimes
bland, sometimes cryptic and always open to interpretation.
Memorable hooks
and riffs keep this ship on course while purposeful, military
drums on some
tracks add tension and backbone to the waves of atmospheric
sound.
Of the bonus cuts, "Ashtray" stands out as being
something different.
It's like a lost Joy Division song massaged by Jesus and
Mary Chain meets
Spacemen 3 guitars, with Ian Curtis channeled on the vocal.
This is Anton's happening and it freaks me out!
-- Laura Markley
The Flesh
Death Connection (EP)
 When
the title track opened, I immediately thought N.E.R.D.;
that quirky use of bass and drums intended to make you move.
Then it morphed into funky, low-slung sex, like Prince covering
early Talking Heads. The keyboards provide a quasi-futuristic
70's effect in the background and you imagine a campy sci-fi
picture soundtrack, or a newly-minted Pulp Fiction.
Overall, Death Connection (available July 8) is a solid
EP, introducing the public to a group that we will definitely
hear more from. Combining a disparate mix of influences
and elements to good effect, the sound is familiar - but
not enough; it's more of an evolution. Fusing inspiration
from Gang of Four, LeTigre, The Stooges, The Ravonettes,
and early 80's new wave (like The The), The Flesh has conjured
up something remarkable.
"Love," the second track, is upbeat and decidedly
more punk than the title track, interspersed with quirky
keyboard spurts, and maintains its subtle groove of desperation
well. It's a rock star pleading for dirty love in public,
the place they love to do it the best. "Foes"
is ingratiatingly moody with a quick-paced, almost Ludacris
hip-hop style cadence book ended by sparse drawn-out vocals;
with a little harem-like ditty thrown in every now and then
for good measure.
"Copticon" is the only song over 3 minutes, and
serves as the stereotypical concluding track; longer, more
varied, and trying to really "get into the music."
With its low strumming and brooding bass and drum and organ
line, it reminded me of The The, and is a carefully orchestrated
build-up of tension. It never really lets go until the end,
and in the meantime, listeners are treated to a gloom and
doom break down of the structure, a morph into a feedback-y
guitar that is eerily reminiscent of the theme from the
video game "Spyhunter," and then you reach the
climax (literally and physically) of a building rant of
exhortations that ends in "it's all over now,"
and the slow-dying strangling of the song.
The use of space in between beats really defines these
songs, as the silence and pauses are used to good effect,
and then filled in later on in the song by a sometimes swirling
mix of bass, keyboards, and backing vocals. The off-kilter
sound is noteworthy because it causes your body and limbs
to gyrate in fits and jerks, creating an awkward beat to
follow, or in a glass half-full scenario, a rock band that
makes you move with the authority of the jangly beats of
natives. This is, in my approximation, new wave electronica
punk co-mingling with the Brooklyn dirty, grimy, old-fashioned
sex vibe in a dark alley, not two steps from the door of
a hip club. It should be safe, painless, and non-committal,
but it doesn't care if you see flesh, or the dirty past
underneath it. In fact, it yearns for it.
-- Grant Moser
Regenerated Headpiece
Dogfight
 "Well,
I'm in a band"
…is what many a guy has told many a girl to get that
much closer to her, but what do folks who do what we call
underground hip-hop say in that situation? Think about it
for a second. If you're the run of the mill hipster rocker,
clad in your impossibly blackened hair and meaningless vintage
t-shirts (I should know, I own many myself) then you hit
them with a combination of early 80's influences guaranteed
to make you sound knowledgeable, deep… sexy. But underground
hip-hop is a trickier concept. Just telling that same girl
that you're in a hip-hop group might cause her to conjure
up images of you grabbing your unmentionables on stage and
making a play for every woman in the audience; talking a
lot about money you don't have. Then you'd have to add to
that, "No… we're an alternative hip-hop group"
or "we're an indie hip-hop group" or whatever
the hell most people who do this kind of music say. Never
mind the references, because unless you're damn lucky she
hasn't heard of BDP, Company Flow… maybe De La Soul,
but just in passing… from a friend.
Such is the uncharted territory that much of underground
hip-hop finds itself in that you can't find a centered way
to impress people with it. Regenerated Headpiece is in an
even deeper pickle than most groups, because they seem to
be looking for some kind of new sound and understanding
on their new album Dogfight. If they were talking about
their earlier debut release, Rat Race Vacation, they could've
started simply and said "Just emceeing, having some
fun"; they didn't get too serious but there wasn't
another bunch you could confuse them with. They've gone
even further out on this newer album, with Shred Lexicon
(get it?) taking less of a frontman role and DJ Exfyl's
turntable work getting more experimental, Phon X expressing
a more concerned worldview. Hip-hoppers are at great pains
to distance themselves from anything resembling pretension
or self-importance, even or especially the underground ones.
Yet, Regenerated can live in both worlds at the same time,
the party and the politics. So the group that now tackles
the plight of the workingman and pleads with the audience
to "open up your mind" hasn't lost their ability
to hold your attention. It's only that their sound is a
bit darker now, more thoughtful… though the possibility
of losing themselves in their own wordplay always looms
large, and once or twice they're not in complete sync with
DJ Exfyl, but that's a tall order. Maybe when they first
introduced themselves to this proverbial "chick"
it was along the lines of "We're hip-hop, we're just
having some fun, but it's more…" and on this album,
Dogfight, they meet up later only for RHP to say "We're
hip hop done a different way." Because they are.
The thoughtful approach, see? Maybe the girl in our story,
Ms. "you're in a band?" is sick of running into
the typical anorexic rocker type. That can get worn out,
one needs some rhythm and cadence in their life and it couldn't
hurt to be the one to break the usual mold. She can tell
friends about the sensitive hip-hop artist that she met,
or whatever way she wanted to describe him as being. And
really, do her friends have anybody who can come up with
songs on the spot… who can freestyle? They should be
so lucky, but then it's easy to get taken by such a slick
line.
-- Maurice Downes
Richard Hawley
Lowedges
(Beggars
Banquet/XL)
 This
is the second release from the guy from Longpigs/Pulp. On
his own he sounds nothing like those guys. He sounds like
he has been admiring people like Roy Orbison and Johnny
Cash. Last year I gave a rave review for Late Night Final
which seemed like a breakthrough album for Hawley. He ignores
music trends and must be, in a way, admired for that. But
now there are countless bands performing this mellow acoustic
rock about long lost love. Lowedges sounds like lesser outtakes
from the last record. It doesn't seem like Hawley has brought
anything new to the table.
-- Alexander Laurence
The Dragons
Sin Salvation
Gearhead Records
 I
saw these guys play a gig a few months ago and they torn
down the place. Their love of Johnny Thunders and Catholic
guilt fuel this new record. The Dragons are a San Diego
garage band whose members are Mexican and Japanese. The
title track "Sin Salvation" blows the roof off
the joint. The guitar solos by Ken Mochikoshi are wall to
wall. The energy is high, and where can you go from there?
Tracks like "Self Destruction" and "Dirty
Bomb" are as raw as The Damned at their peak. Actually
they are more talented than those jokers. This record was
recorded in three days and is mostly live takes. It has
a lot of power and glory. The Dragons are a band who need
our attention.
-- Alexander Laurence
Singapore Sling
The Curse of Singapore Sling
Stinky Records
 This
is a mysterious band from Reykjavik, Iceland. Their dark
origins cannot be traced to the Icelandic sagas. No they
don't sound like Bjork or Sigur Ros. They sound more like
Raveonettes and draw from the same beatnik sources. Henrik
Bjornsson writes most of the tunes. His friends show up
and drink a lot and make a lot of fucking noise. That's
the way Revolver was made. Singapore Sling have been
together for about three years now. Recently they opened
some shows for the intense Brian Jonestown Massacre. That
makes sense because both bands have a love for feedback
and psychedelia. All their songs are about fucking, which
is a valid topic. I want to get high with these guys. This
is music to take drugs to. I must pull my pants down.
-- Alexander Laurence
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