New Weezer album title revealed

Perhaps in recognition of the weakness of their recent work, the new album from Weezer shows a (desire to) return to past successes. It is simply called Weezer. The band, as you may recall, has already released two albums with the same title, which were differentiated by colour - one Blue and one Green. This record's signature hue, as recently confirmed by the band, will be Red. No word on artwork or a tracklist yet. We're all pulling for Weezer on this one. They're running the risk of becoming the Bear Stearns of the music world.

Spotlight On: Morr Music

It's been quite some time since we have run this feature, so instead of highlighting an artist, I thought I'd share a label that goes shamefully unlauded: Berlin's Morr Music. The label specialises in electronica, dreampop, and electro-folk (genres of which this correspondent is exceedingly fond). It is, along with DFA, one of the more consistent labels in independent music today (it is for dreampop what DFA is for dance), though not nearly as much of a household name. Nonetheless, it warrants your attention, and certainly bears mention here. These are just a few noteworthy artists to check out on this fantastic label:
Seabear (an album of the year contender here in 2007)
Electric President
The Go Find
Radical Face
The American Analog Set
Lali Puna
The Notwist

-PTC

Record Review: Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks - Real Emotional Trash

Rating: 7.1 / 10.0

I'm one of those people who instinctively loves everything Stephen Malkmus does because of what he did with Pavement. For whatever reason, I can't divorce him from his influence on modern day indie rock. I'm not saying I enjoy Pig Lib as much as Slanted and Enchanted, I just like it more because it bears that inextricable link to Pavement, a band that has long held a very special place in my heart.

I don't think I'm alone in this; many a dedicated indie kid has a soft spot for Malkmus. And if not Malkmus, then some other influential and enigmatic indie/alternative pioneer - Thom Yorke, Michael Stipe, whoever you like. I also don't think it's a bad thing; the second we fail to be sentimentally, emotionally connected to and affected by music is the second we should stop listening to music. But it certainly was interesting to review this record. I thought I would unflinchingly laud it; but taking a really good look at it has made me aware of some of the flaws that Malkmus has come to accumulate over time.

Let's focus on the positives first. Malkmus sounds to have settled into himself as a guitarist and into the Jicks as a band. The instrumental work here sounds more liberated and adventurous. "Out of Reaches" features a Wurlitzer breakdown leading into a wonderful guitar solo. The title track stretches out for a thrilling 10 minutes, with an expansive jam in the middle. The mix is rich and full, the drums are more active (fully equipped with fills and syncopated beats). This record sounds more like The Jicks and Stephen Malkmus. And that's not a bad thing. The sound of the record is more casual, more relaxed, and strangely more accessible than most of his catalogue to date while simultaneously taking more musical risks.

Ironically, it is perhaps my love for Malkmus and his work with Pavement that stained this record in my eyes, from a critical standpoint. Instead of seeing a Malkmus channeling his past, I saw him at times clinging to it. The lo-fi lyrical and melodic idiosyncrasy that sounded so effortless and natural with Pavement, sometimes sounds more forced here. The meandering, unfocused narrative of "Hopscotch Willie" betrays the clarity of purpose and attention to detail Malkmus's lyrics used to have (even after Pavement; just listen to "Vanessa from Queens"). There are exceptions to this, the most notable being the standout track "Gardenia". His observations in this song are, like the central metaphor, keen, incisive, and full of charm.

The hi-fi production is something I've never been able to get used to whenever Stephen Malkmus is concerned. In this case, it makes his lyrics sound ridiculous at times. The contrast between the sharp sophistication of the production and the childish whimsy of the lyrics is sometimes charming, but sometimes unwieldy and awkward, like on "Dragonfly Pie" and "Elmo Delmo".

What does this all add up to? For some, it will be a bitter pill to swallow, but Stephen Malkmus - though he might try to fight it - is maturing. The final two songs on Real Emotional Trash belie this fact, especially "We Can't Help You", a world-wearied piano ballad (I know, right?) that reveals the more pessimistic, grounded side of Stephen Malkmus. "There's no common goal / There's no moral action / There's no modern age / From which to run away / There's no grace in love / With a new projection / There's no sky above / For you to cry into." I've never heard it before, but Malkmus sounds genuinely tired as he intones these somewhat hopeless lyrics. It's as though all the tomfoolery that preceded this song was all some kind of ruse to keep our spirits high in a world where there mightn't be much to relish. Perhaps the record's greatest success is also it's most fatal flaw: that Malkmus tries and fails to stay true to his youthful caprice, only to descend, even if briefly, into the depths of adult angst. It may not be consistent, but it's honest and it's genuine. And it's Malkmus.

-PTC

Live: The Mountain Goats 2/29

First off, yes, I know.

After two forgettable, indeed, forgotten openers, New York's Jeffrey Lewis took the Bimbo's 365 stage with his band, the Jitters. Considering the deadly serious intent of The Mountain Goats, they were an excellent appetiser. The set began with a spoken word bit about the many facets of Top Ramen. Also included were three songs with storybook visual accompaniment telling the tale of a violent but wise brain and Lewis' days as a hippie. "The Last Time I Took Acid I Went Insane" left few sides unsplit. It wasn't all laughs, though. Many of his songs turned on his audience, launching into meta-indie commentary including one about an encounter with Bonnie Prince Billy/Will Oldham on an el train that left him feeling cold. Lewis' quick wit and lack of pretense was quite charming, enriching his infectious material.





In contrast, John Darnielle's Mountain Goats were a portrait of professionalism. All three were in suits and presented a set spanning The Mountain Goats' existence, plus nearly the entirety of early Album of the Year contender Heretic Pride. The three piece rock set-up was highly novel, considering the variety of arrangement and style present on their studio recordings. Earlier songs that are essentially tape hiss, guitar, and Darnielle and recent material incorporating strings, choirs, and all manner of John Vanderslice trickery were all run through the same mill into straight-ahead rockers. Mighty egalitarian. The Heretic Pride tracks especially were born anew with a simple band and a heap of energy, as simplicity and heat were two qualities in short supply on HP.



That massive back catalogue must weigh on John Darnille, as he was unable to get past the introduction to "Marduk T-Shirt", forgetting the chords, and later had trouble with his effects pedals. Peter Hughes was channeling Carlos D's dress, swagger, and playing style quite strikingly. Perhaps Carlos D is channeling Peter Hughes? Darnille followed the set with a solo encore before closing with full-band renditions of "This Year" and "Going to Georgia". Professional, stylish, legendary.



-RJR

Record Review: The Handcuffs - Model for a Revolution

Rating: 0.9 / 10.0

It's hard to know where to begin, so I just did a track by track. The record sucks. Someone please teach these people how to write a chorus.

"Car Crash": I think I'd like this song better if it was the lead track to a good (or a decent) record. It's got some charm - the fuzzy guitars contrasted with the shuffling drums got my foot tapping, a vibrophone-tinged chorus with listenable harmonies, a punchy beat with sharp, snappy snare - the melody was a bit weak, but I forgave.

But as the rest of the record shows, everything that went right on this song was a) purely an accident, and b) gone forever. It's all downhill from here.

"All Shine On": The piano falls flatter than flat on this song, and singer Chloe F. Orwell bites off more than she can chew here (that is, trying to sing a melody). She doesn't have a pretty voice, so her voice isn't particularly well suited to this song. I hadn't lost all hope for this record at this point.

"Mickey 66": There are some bad choruses on this record, but I think this one takes the cake. What's really sad is that I think they probably envisioned this as "the hit" on the record. At this point, I knew the record could not and would not be salvaged.

"Can't Get the Girl": Relationship advice from Chloe F. Orwell:
-"If you want to get a little, you better have a lot."
-"You can't get the girl without the good stuff, baby"
-"A little bit of dough is more bang for your buck."
-"A good sense of humour might bring you good luck."
-"If you want all the goods, you better have a good trait. Add a little respect, and you might get laid."
-"The more you giveth, the more you receive."
-"If you want the good stuff, it never is free."
-"You can show me the money, you can play the part, but it won't mean a thing if it's not from the heart."

Put these vague, clichéd aphorisms into practice, and you will be irresistible to women. Thank Ms Orwell later.

"Love Me All the Way": This song sucks.

"Peggy Moffitt": "Peggy Moffitt, you're an inspiration, / original, not the imitation". I actually didn't order a side order of irony with my bad album, so can you take this song back? Oh yeah, the keyboard patch will piss you off if you notice it. In pointing out everything great about Moffitt - the fact that she was "ultra-modern, avant-garde," that she had "got it all," and that "we could never have too much of [her]," etc., The Handcuffs have simultaneously and unwittingly listed all their flaws as a band.

"I'm Not Laughing": If the Vines got the lead singer of the 5678s to sing for them...with ear plugs in so that she couldn't hear what key they were playing in, it would sound like this.

"Don't Be Afraid": "I Think I'm Paranoid" by Garbage called. It wants its sound back. Apparently the reverb-soaked, piano-polluted mess you called a chorus didn't convince anyone that you didn't rip off the other 97% of the song.

"Sex and Violins": I didn't need to be reminded that this pun existed.

"First Class Bossa Nova": Fifth class garbage. The spoken word breakdown is the lamest indulgence on an album that is one 40 minute, 21 second exercise in hackneyed rock-starisms.

"Beg Me Beg Me": I spent the entirety of the song, whether it was the awkwardly sexual, droning verses, or the punky, annoying staccato of Orwell's vocals in the atrocious chorus, begging her begging her to stop singing.

"Jet Baby": Ripping your piano track from Louis XIV is never ever a good idea (those octaves sound just like that one song Louis XIV wrote about having sex with a lot of chicks. You know which one I'm talking about).

-PTC

Record Review: Foals - Antidotes

Rating: 4.1 / 10.0

I'll give you the bad news first. Think Bloc Party meets The Futureheads and they become obseesed with their ambition to be loved by all of England. That is Antidotes, the debut LP from Oxford's Foals, in a nutshell. It's not particularly original. The whole gang of quintessential indie touches is here: funky guitars, horns, "ba ba dah"s, what have you. I mean, it's dance-punky Britpop. Yannis Philippakis is yet another lead singer in a Britpop band to flaunt his regional accent like it's a goddamned prize. It's the most narcissistic, self-aware, contrived record I've heard in a while. There is nothing close to a natural impulse on this record. It never even sniffs of organic. All it is is fake, polished, and prepared.

But for all the grandstanding and pretence of this record, I think it warrants saying that it's still a pretty interesting listen. Okay. It's a britpop record that delivers everything you would expect from a britpop record and nothing - absolutely nothing - that you wouldn't. The hooks are pretty memorable and decently good. The production is very slick and clean (they axed Dave Sitek's - of TV on the Radio fame - mix because there it had too much reverb). Generally speaking, this band takes a page right out of Bloc Party's (circa Silent Alarm) playbook, and throws in more of a punk sensibility. If it didn't sound so sterile, I would be more inclined to excuse this lack or originality. But as it is, this record is little more than flat-out forgery.

It's a shame, because they aren't bad musicians at all. Opening track "The French Open" is a jammy funk fest that allows the talented rhythm section to showcase its ample collective chops. The horns here settle into the support role they play throughout the record. Philippakis's Kele Okereke-inspired chanting/yelping vocal style dominates here and throughout the record, and is inevitably proves to be the weakest link in an otherwise strong - if unoriginal - sound. "Red Socks Pugie" is the most blatant show of laziness with regard to coming up with a decent melody, but the rest of the band creates a tight framework where no shortage of melodies could very comfortably be incorporated. "Two Steps, Twice" is the most shameful exercise in Bloc Party apery (though "Tron" and "Electric Bloom" are right up there too). They don't actually do a terrible job in sounding like Bloc Party, but it sounds like they're trying so damn hard that it ceases to be impressive.

So everything you will hear here has already been done better by someone else. But there's something intangible here...something like talent. I think Foals could, at one stage, be a great band that puts out great albums, provided that they just get over themselves first. This record is brimming with promise (despite what the rating may imply), but it shows a band far too concerned with what everybody else thinks about them. It's hard to beat Bloc Party at their own game. So I think Foals should redirect their efforts to figuring out what Foals sound like, and then trying to sculpt their next record around that sound. Just a suggestion.

-PTC

New Wolf Parade record due this summer

It's certainly been a long wait - full of side-projects, supergroups, and the like - since 2005's Apologies to the Queen Mary, but Canadian indie crew Wolf Parade is set to release their second LP, entitled Kissing the Beehive. It will drop June 17th of this year via Sub Pop.

Andrew Bird blogs for the NYT

For all those who might be curious about what progress Andrew Bird is making on his new record, the follow up to 2007's Armchair Apocrypha (an album of the year contender here), you needn't look any further than the New York Times. The violinist / vocalist / whistler / guitarist / songwriter / etc. is writing for the Times' Measure for Measure blog. Of course, if you don't want to consult Bird's blog for news on his next album, we will provide all salient coverage here.