Archive for October, 2011

Florence and the Machine "Lover to Lover"

Florence and the Machine are generally considered to be a secular act, but their new album sounds like straight-ahead modern gospel, complete with overt references to God, salvation and transcendence. It's modern gospel, for sure, and the religion manifests itself in agnostic-friendly ways – you don't really need to buy into too much dogma to relate to her singing about feeling like she's going to be denied salvation because she's been making too many mistakes. The point of divergence, really, is in that she sings about feeling good about her hedonistic ways with the same ecstatic intensity as when she gushes about deliverance later on in the album. There's a lot of faith in this music, but that yearning for the divine gets mixed in with a true passion for the glories and foibles of being merely human. Buy it from Amazon.

King Louie "Too Cool"

"Too Cool" moves in hypnotic circles – oddly-pitched electric squiggles, rhymes that cycle through talking points like a Mike Jones rap, hype man utterances that snap into a subtle repetitive pattern. With each revolution, you get one heavy bass boom. The first several times I heard this song, it was on laptop speakers and I didn't notice. It's overwhelming on decent headphones, rattling on my good stereo speakers. It probably feels insane in a club or through a top-end car stereo. Be careful with this thing.

Justice "On'n'on"

Justice's second album is a great surprise – it's not a carbon copy of their debut, but carries enough of that record's general aesthetic to seem like a totally natural progression. I like the faux-metal dance music angle, but I favor the cuts that merge their sensibility with the sound of 70s lite pop. "On'n'on," a lightly funky number featuring the vocalist Morgan Phelan, is the closest this record comes to replicating the magic of "DVNO," but its tone is much more mellow. There are similarities in the melody, but I think the more striking thing is in how both numbers convey a very sexy sort of optimism that's a bit scrambled by odd lyrics and a vocal melody that's secondary to the instrumental hook. Buy it from Amazon.

The Field "Is This Power"

A lot of producers could get away with coasting on the droning keyboard hook in "It This Power," and you'd have a fine if somewhat flat track. The beauty of the Field's arrangement is that while it lets you meditate on a repetitive part, it's always moving. The beat mutates as it goes along, never getting too busy but often suggesting an aggressive physicality. The bass is what makes this, though – reserved funk in combination with the main groove, oddly forlorn when that sound drops out, deliriously melodic when it returns. Buy it from Amazon.

Coldplay "Hurts Like Heaven"

Coldplay's music has a strange emotional resonance – it conveys huge, universal feelings with minimal detail or specificity, which has a way of making me wonder if the music is really about expressing emotion rather than actually experiencing them. It's easy to be cynical about this band's body of work, but at this point they've written too many good songs to be written off so easily. "Hurts Like Heaven," the opening track on their latest record, is one of their all-time best. It nods in the direction of hits by Belle & Sebastian and LCD Soundsystem, but the scope and emotional focus is very much Coldplay – a touch of melancholy adding flavor to an uplifting, swooning melody. Unlike their current single "Paradise," which sounds like it was written to be used in the most pompous and overblown Oscar-bait movie trailers, "Hurts Like Heaven" has a lean arrangement that flatters the easy-going yearning of Chris Martin's voice and the sparkle in the guitar. As much as this song conveys a world-weary romanticism, it still suggests an odd hollowness. Notably, the most emotionally stirring lines in the song are quotes, bits of (very emo) graffiti that Martin is reading off walls and signs. There's a few lines about feeling anxious, but otherwise he doesn't say much. What does it mean to use your heart as a weapon? How does it feel to hurt like heaven? The music gives you no answer for the former question, but does a pretty great job of filling you in on the latter. Buy it from Amazon.

The Society of Rockets "Plastic Stars"

The Society of Rockets' tribute to the late Trish Keenan is built upon a keyboard part with a tonality that will be immediately familiar to fans of her work with Broadcast. This sound, like a sci-fi warning siren repurposed as an accent for languid melodies, was a key part of that band's aesthetic: Grim modern and futuristic sounds contrasted with Keenan's understated melancholy. Joshua Babcock conveys sadness in his vocal performance and melodies here, but he doesn't even attempt to approach her icy persona. He couldn't if he tried – for one thing, Keenan was a one of a kind talent. More importantly, Babcock can't help but express an open-hearted sweetness in his music. Buy it from Three Ring Records.

Patrick Stump "Coast (It's Gonna Get Better)"

Patrick Stump seems very eager to impress on his first solo album. This isn't coming from desperation, but rather a desire to show off a pretty wide-ranging musical skill set – he plays every instrument on the record, and very well at that – and a talent for glitzy, hyperactive modern pop songwriting. Though there are points on Soul Punk when the ambition, performance and general razzle dazzle of the production values are more impressive than the actual hooks, Stump mostly succeeds in his attempt to hold on to the cerebral charm of his Fall Out Boy while fully embracing the aesthetics of R&B-centric chart pop. Listening to the record, it's clear that this is exactly what he wants to do, and that at the same time, he's unwilling to give up any part of his personality to fit into another genre. His obvious confidence carries over to the sentiment of his lyrics. He spends a lot of time grappling with the diminished expectations of post-recession life, but he projects his can-do spirit and enthusiasm on the rest of the world, insisting that there is a real possibility that things will get better. It's escapist, feel-good pop, but he leaves you feeling convinced that something positive is just around the corner. Buy it from Amazon.

M83 "Claudia Lewis"

M83 specialize in a sort of musical nostalgia that does very little to move me, though I recognize the ways it aggressively jabs at the emotional buttons of those for whom the idea of "The Eighties" might have a profound resonance. Their new album, a double disc set, is sprawling and "epic," but its expanse is mostly numbing – a few setpiece numbers are surrounded by ethereal time-wasters and underwritten bombast. M83 aim for a cinematic grandeur and mostly attain it; it's just too bad that Hurry Up, We're Dreaming would be a very mediocre film. I also have issues with Anthony Gonzalez's voice – I appreciate that he's "going for it," and committing to expressing something akin to passion in his performances, but that doesn't keep him from sounding like some kind of petulant eunuch. Why is this the default for so much acclaimed indie music right now? It conveys powerful emotion, but no agency. I can see why that a lot of young people today would identify with that, but ugh, I don't think it's a positive thing! This doesn't mean that M83 can't nail it here and there. The single "Midnight City" is a very strong and engaging composition that compresses the charm and ambition of the band into four minutes so effectively that it makes the remaining 70 minutes of the album seem entirely redundant. I'm also fond of "Claudia Lewis," a vaguely funky track that balances its hyper-romantic atmosphere evenly with a few sharp hooks and a vocal performance that, while thin and bleating, gets across some convincing emotional stakes. Buy it from Amazon.

Real Estate "It's Real"

I quite like this song – it has a sweet sentiment and a gorgeous lead guitar part – but I can't help but think it's basically the answer to the question "What if Peter Buck was the only really talented member of Murmur-era R.E.M.?" The rhythm section isn't bad; just competent and not particularly imaginative. The vocals suit the mood and lyrics, but err too much on the side of wimpy, passive and faceless. I wish the singer committed just a bit more, communicated a bit more personality. This is a song about a guy who is finding the strength to be assertive enough to be clear in expressing his feelings for someone, so it should have a gentle, maybe somewhat shy quality, but I feel like I have no idea who this guy is when he sings. A good vocalist – regardless of their technical skill – reveals something about who they are in their voice. This is lovely and very relatable song, but if it weren't for the guitar style – which isn't all that distinct but is nevertheless the main feature of Real Estate – it's a bit too anonymous. Buy it from Amazon.

Brenton Wood "I'm the One Who Knows"

I love the lightness of this arrangement – the lead guitar is like a delicate filigree, the percussion is a patient tap, the gentle buzz of the organ has a soft, pillowy quality. Wood sings about the adorable intensity of a teen boy who has fallen in love for the first time, and he sounds both bemused and nostalgic for this unguarded sweetness. The refrain "I'm the one who really knows" is a bit ambiguous, but it's clear enough that he's just looking back on his own experience as a young man and remembering this earnest, innocent love with great fondness, even if some of it is kind of embarrassing. Buy it from Amazon.