With track titles such as “Misunderstood”, “Here I Am”, and “Looking for Love” CIAM are pushing the right buttons for the disaffected youth. Jeff Shapiro’s vocals are a predictable baritone on most of the tracks, sounding not unlike a young Wayne Hussey at times. Furthermore, a spotty teenager with no friends probably wrote the lyrics. Not a great start.
CIAM
ANONYMOUS
Ciam Music
2007-11-15
However, the music and the production are where Anonymous wins points. Anonymous is a sumptuously produced collection of electronic sounds with a doom-laden almost old-school “goth” sound that has veins filled with modern fire. CIAM seem an idealistic bunch that want to restructure the landscape of music. With this release they have not broken any new ground yet but I suspect that they have won a healthy bunch of fans. Not least of all because the album is just plain free if you go to ciammusic.com or you could buy it for $8.99 from Amazon.com — a tough choice to be made. This is an interesting business model. Perhaps they plan to make all their money on t-shirt sales.
However, one should listen to the album with caution for there is a bump in the road that may just throw you off your bike. Anonymous contains a cover version of the Velvet Underground classic “Venus in Furs”. If ever there was a list of songs that should NEVER be covered this one would be on it. CIAM have unforgivably taken this song, sucked out the atmosphere and rocked it up. They rocked up “Venus in Furs”! This reviewer shakes his head and walks away gloomily.
Lisa Cerbone has a gentle, childlike voice and with We Were All Together she has created an album that is somewhat evocative of Tanya Donelly or Kristin Hersh.
LISA CERBONE
WE WERE ALL TOGETHER
Ocean Music
2008-04-08
Every aspect of this package — from the case with its lyric adorned fine art photo cards to the crystal clear production — is finely crafted and exudes quality. One wonders why this lady is not more well known as this is her fourth release in the last eight years. We Were All Together is a collection of ten melancholy vignettes held against backdrop of stark hush. Cerbone tingles the spine of the listener with this intimate and quite beautiful recording. This quality is most evident in tunes such as “Change the Ending” and the opening track “Humming”. This record is of course not for everyone. It tends to be a little over-serious at times and leaves you feeling quite bereft once it is over. This last point also one of the positive aspects of this CD. After all if art does not engage you then what is the use of it?
This miniature review was originally published on popmatters.com
The trouble with not keeping in touch with old acquaintances is that they sometimes move on without you. They grow and form new opinions, new tastes, and new ways of expressing themselves. Then, when you finally catch up with them, they are barely recognisable. You find it hard to really fully get what it is that they mean. You forget what it was that you saw in them in the first place. The French Kicks first came to the attention of this reviewer around 2001 while they were promoting their Young Lawyer. Alan McGee (founder of Creation Records, sadly swallowed up by a corporation and Poptones, sadly defunct at the behest of Mr. McGee) had just signed them in the UK, and they were on the verge of becoming big news in the world of indie music. They completely owned the stage that night. Drummer and lead vocalist Nick Stumpf sat tall in centre stage, presiding over the audience. Their brand of quirky New York post-punk pop reverberated around a rather small but relatively well-attended and sweaty hall in an unheard-of British town.
Flash-forward through time to 2008, and when we catch up with the French Kicks, the years have mellowed them. No strangeness there — time must take its toll on all things, after all. What is interesting is how they have changed. Swimming kicks off with all the quirk of a latter-day Talking Heads record. The opening track, “Abandon”, floats rather than swims from the speakers. The close vocal harmonies wash over the syncopated drum patterns and guitar parts. It has a dreamlike quality. Again, more like being in a floatation tank than in a swimming pool. There are no obvious hooks, but somehow through something akin to Chinese water torture, the song gets under your skin. Three songs in, and that Talking Heads feeling has firmly got a grip with “Carried Away”. This song could easily have been lifted from True Stories.
Swimming tries hard — practically every song has a good beginning, middle, and end — but the parts in between do little to spark the imagination. The main problem is that the album appears to only have one solid idea for a song. Up-tempo drums, sound-effect-like guitar parts, and close harmonies with no hooks or catchy chorus to be found. The formula is repeated over and over, not unlike the aforementioned water torture. The result is unfortunately not something that instantly grabs you. As a listener you are constantly let down after a good set-up. For example, “Sex Tourists” starts well with a simple fat drum sound, heavy on the high hat, and then guitar and bass come in, both flattening out the groove. They are then followed by some of the wettest vocals ever committed to an album. This particular tourist would be asking for a refund. What may have been an attempt to sound languid and sexy just ends up sounding like an effort from a whiny teenager who needs to get a girlfriend.
There are glimpses of earlier glories, “The Way You Arrive” and ” New Man” hint at the French Kicks’ post-punk quirkiness (if I may use such a lame expression), but what ruins the effect again is the falsetto vocal performance of Nick Stumpf. Swimming is a complex and layered record that instrumentally shines, but appears to swamp Mr Stumpf in the process. The production values of this record compete for primacy with the songs, and one cannot help but feel that the pudding has been somewhat over-egged. In the old days, the listener experienced a certain rawness when they put on a release by this New York outfit. This edge was still evident on the 2006 release Two Thousand, but is totally absent here. More is the pity.
Swimming is really too damp to catch a spark, but could quite easily find a home nicely in the background somewhere of a candle lit wine bar or other chilled venue. For a band that showed so much fire and promise less than a decade ago, this is a great disappointment. In that short time they have moved on and grown up, and in growing up they have changed their priorities. People move on, and tastes that were once perfectly aligned with yours can jar, especially if you don’t keep in touch.
This review was originally posted on popmatters.com
The Posies were a power-pop outfit from Washington State that didn’t so much set the world on fire as give it a nasty Chinese burn. They did, however, produce some mighty fine tunes and at least one classic album, Frosting On the Beater. (The two remaining original members, Jon Auer and Ken Stringfellow, are also at least as famous for being instrumental in the reformation of Big Star.) The clumsily titled Beautiful Escape… Is Coming Right Along is a seven track sampler of the forthcoming 45 track (3 CD) album containing cover versions spanning the entire career of The Posies. Homage albums such as this often provide new and interesting takes on the source material. Unfortunately, that cannot be said of this release. The artists on this selection do have a good crack at the songs but hardly any of them do anything that might be deemed original. Of the seven tracks present on this CD only Darling Cait’s version of “Precious Moments” and Jim Protector’s “Coming Right Along” really stand up to any scrutiny. The others just sound like pale imitations rather than the intended tribute. The fact that three of the tunes on this collection come from Frosting On the Beater speaks volumes. While the full 3 CD set might tell a different story, this sampler showcases the songs of that greatest album by The Posies and suggests that you might be better off listening to that instead.
When you are the son of such famous musician as Ry Cooder, it must be really difficult to strike out on your own and make your own mark in the world of pop while avoiding the shadow of your parent. I wonder if Joachim Cooder deliberately chose a project that was light years away from his father’s work? Perhaps he didn’t even consider it. I mean, if you are striking out on your own, the best option would be to hook up with some unknown multi-instrumentalist and one of your oldest friends and just jam until you came up with stuff that reminded you of your teens. And then when you have just the right sound, ready to record your debut opus, as it were, the best bet would be to get Pappy to produce said record and play on 3 tracks. Oh, you wouldn’t do it like that? Nah, me either.
However, there is something really endearing about this release. If you can get past the honestly, TRULY AWFUL sleeve (which in itself is no mean feat; what were you thinking, people?), you will find some really nice pop tunes. Despite their spiritual genesis in the nineteen eighties, the songs manage to remain relatively non-pompous-mentis, although the cheesy production doesn’t really do them justice.
Mostly what Hello Stranger have recorded are thirteen synth-driven songs that feel like they are being played by a 1980s TV producer’s idea of what a futuristic band might sound like. You can picture the scene in Buck Rogers in the 25th Century where our hero walks into a bar and a female singer scantily clad in aluminium foil croons over futuristic synth sounds. Hello Stranger don’t sound quite like this but one does get a sense that they wouldn’t mind if they did.
Hello Stranger consist of Jared Smith, Joachim Cooder, and Juliette Commagere, and their press release would have us believe that they are a relatively new outfit. In actuality, they used to be known as Vagenious until fairly recently. I can’t imagine why they changed their name. Because Hello Stranger sounds soooo much better. Why is this important? It is important because it highlights the lack of ability to self-edit; Hello Stranger are missing a “this looks/sounds like crap” filter. While they have a number of quite good ideas, they are stamped upon by the band’s failure to pan their river of creativity for golden musical nuggets; we are presented with the stuff silt, rocks, and all.
This is a real pity, actually, because once you get past the we-love-the-eighties façade, Hello Stranger are quite good. Stripped of most of the funky fromage that is present on the preceding tune, “Kubrick Eyes”, “Learn Again to Feel” is a dreamy piano-led ballad that allows Commagere’s vocals to really come to the fore. Similarly, on the final track, the languid, country-soaked “Let it Ride”, the band slip into a more comfortable mode that just doesn’t sound so forced. Here it all comes together; it is somewhat of a shame that I had to put up with the polyester pop that preceded it. Indeed, the other songs are also good but the sounds used to produce them let them down.
Therein lies the trouble: the 1980s were so twenty years ago. It would be lovely if we could just put its monsters behind us and get on with the matter in hand: living in the now. Sure, the Moog was way cool when it first came out, but things have moved on to some extent. If only Hello Stranger would put away the old gear and allow their potential to shine.
This review was originally posted on popmatters.com
There is a certain tension coming from within this latest Robin Guthrie release. It seems on the face of it that Continental is just another ambient, collection of haunting melodies. The songs swirl and sweep like an abandoned shopping bag that has been caught by the wind. They hold the listener’s attention, as s/he waits for some other dramatic, unexpected event to take place. Sometimes it happens, and the bag swoops into the air with a vitality and expression that one does not come to expect from a discarded object. On other occasions, the unwanted container of tomorrow’s debris just sits there and does pretty much what one expects it to do. And still it holds the attention as if it were a traveller recounting a ghost story to an audience that have heard the tale oh, so many times before. After all, it is not the story that is important but the manner in which it is told.
ROBIN GUTHRIE
CONTINENTAL
Darla
2006-05-16
This particular haunting tale is embellished to the point of distraction. However, there are no surprises here, nothing that jumps out at you, shocks you, or makes your heart pound. Every song, every step of the journey is told in a manner that Robin Guthrie has used on a good many of his recordings. It is the familiarity of the 10 tunes on Continental that is so discomforting. What makes this particular recording so spooky is that it is in fact haunted. The spectre of the Cocteau Twins drifts in and out of each expression; the absence of Elizabeth Fraser is to coin a cliché “conspicuous”. And this adds to the lost feeling that the music introduces in you. So is this release any more than karaoke Cocteau Twins, without a song sheet?
Well … no. Continental doesn’t really try to be anything that it isn’t. There can be no claims of capturing new musical territory or of Guthrie pushing himself beyond what we all know him to be capable of. This is plain and simple, the Cocteaus sans voice. There are moments of trepidation, like on “Crescent”, where Guthrie rocks out on the guitar and adds some vocals. However, these are little more than backing vocals and never come close enough to the foreground to be considered anything else. Indeed, their inclusion only made my yearning for an impish female voice, making sounds that cannot be mistaken for words, even stronger.
Where Guthrie does succeed is when he serves up material with more of an ambient-soundrack-for-a-future-film feel to it. Tracks such as “Last Exit” and “Pale” (coincidentally together at the end of the album) are truly beautiful even if they do sound a little like Bill Nelson. But when was that ever an insult?
Overall, Continental really does retread very well worn territory for Mr. Guthrie. However, I am fairly certain that fans of his work would want nothing else. As for new converts, if you’re under the age of 30, or you lived in a vacuum (as in space, not a cleaning tool) in the 1980s, and have never encountered recorded artefacts of the Cocteau Twins, then you may well find this a good addition to your “chill out” section. If you fall into none of those categories, then it is likely that you may be nonplussed as to how this recording will enrich your life.
This review was originally posted on pop matters.com
There is something gorgeously brittle about Hezekiah Says You’re A-OK.
HEZIKIAH JONES
HEZEKIAH SAYS YOU’RE A-OK
Yer Bird
2006-06-27
In around 30 minutes we are taken on a melancholy ride through a world that is constructed completely from harmonies. The layers used to build this record veil eleven uncomplicated songs with undemanding melodies. Philadelphia songwriter Raphael Cutrufello has put together a promising batch of tunes based round the premise of acoustic instruments and vocal harmonies. It is such a simple idea and it just works; like all unfussy plans, there is little to go wrong.
Cutrufello’s voice sounds as if all of the songs were recorded in his bedroom and he didn’t want to wake the neighbours. This makes for an intimate and slightly unsettling performance. The songs sound like they were written during a hot and sticky summer, they have such an unhurried quality, but there is the sort of edginess that you might expect from a man on the brink. The highpoints are “Albert Hash” and “Circumstance”, both of which sound like a more cheerful Elliott Smith. Hezekiah Says You’re A-OK gives off the warm glow of a smile, but you suspect that behind the smile all is not well in Mr. Jones’ house.
This review was originally posted on pop matters.com
Hardly groundbreaking (but then what is these days) however The Good Luck Joes make the right sort of fist with What Do You Think of That Noise?
THE GOOD LUCK JOES
WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT NOISE?
Machine Records
2006/07/26
By and large, if we were to answer the question posed by the title we might answer “mostly harmless”. The Good Luck Joes hopscotch in and out of territory long claimed by Wilco, INXS, and Coldplay. They never quite seem to claim the ground that they want for themselves. One song sees them playing pub rockers another pumps for stadium (candle in the air) sway-a-long. The last song “Butterflies” sounds a lot like that song by David Gray with the incongruous electronic beats. Not that there is anything wrong with being eclectic. I for one am always complaining about how bands these days play it too safe. It is just that What Do You Think of That Noise ends up sounding more like a end of contract retrospective than that “difficult” third album.
Lets be honest, Say Hi To Your Mom is largely the work of one man, and Eric Elbogen’s (for that is his name) fourth foray into the world of pop music is a strange, beguiling affair. Not to say that the previous three (Ferocious Mopes, Numbers and Mumbles, and Discosadness) were run of the mill releases. On the contrary, they were filled with wondrous and peculiar observations on life and relationships, masked as throwaway collage-boy poetry. A fine example of this being “Let’s Talk About Spaceships” from Numbers and Mumbles. This tune sidesteps that uncomfortable silence that preludes the we-need-to-talk-about-our-relationship talk by simply saying “LOOK BEHIND YOU, A SPIDER!”
SAY HI TO YOUR MOM
IMPECCABLE BLAHS
Rebel Group
2006-07-25
This time round Elbogen is preoccupied with the music of the night, Bela Lugosi style. Impeccable Blahs is an album with a concept (rather than a concept album); all of the songs are about vampires and their relationships with their human prey. The sleeve notes are clear that we are not talking about the “… creepy, goth vampires but rather people just like you and me who happen to get their nourishment from drinking blood.” In as much, Elbogen plucks one of literature’s most maligned inventions from the night sky and grounds it in his own version of the real world. Vampires, if Say Hi To Your Mom is to be believed, have feelings and needs just like the rest of us. They are funny too.
Lyrically, this record is as droll as it is observant, cutting in the “reality” of becoming a vampire with the poetic illusion. For example in “Blah Blah Blah” the vampire breathes to his potential victim, “If you want, I’ll give you eternal life. Well not so much life, but have you ever seen a good zombie movie? Well like that, but you’ll be smarter and you’ll stay 23.” It is this mixture of off-the-wall humour and crackingly catchy choruses that make this record such an enjoyable listen. It cannot fail to bring a smile to your face.
The textual content is counterpoint, with stripped bare musical arrangements that are almost so unadorned that they are in places missing altogether. It is at once a mixture of simple guitar lines, undemanding quirky electronic sounds, and lush layered puree. Still, this straightforwardness really kinda works. The music has a sincere personal feel, an honesty that you rarely find in pop these days. This may mean that it doesn’t appeal to everyone’s tastes. Those that like their pop all bloated with multi-part melodies may find this to be an unsatisfying morsel which will not sate their gourmet tastes. These people should get over themselves.
Most things about this release are about simplicity, from the pink artwork barely adorned with a small bat and a kooky drawing of a vamp, to the musical content described above. However, it would be a real mistake to think that this sparseness is detrimental. The structure of the 10 songs on Impeccable Blahs is pretty perfect. They may not be the shiniest buttons in the pop box, but they are the kind that exhibit an unusual quality that makes you want to keep them and take them out every once in a while to look at them.
In the grand scheme of things, this record is unlikely to prevent any wars. However, we live in an unjust world full of evil things that want to suck the life from us, whether that be taxes, Big Brother or vampires. So, any piece of work that goes some way to set the balance right by bringing these things to our attention so that we can snigger at them (well actually ourselves) is, quite frankly, more than welcome.
