CRYSTAL CASTLES - S/T (again) (Fiction, Last Gang, Universal Motown)

The Crystal Castles exploded onto the scene two years ago with an amazing electroclash debut followed by tons of bratty behavior that galvanized plenty of people against them. In particular, tastemaker Pitchfork never seemed to miss an opportunity to grind their axe against the Ontario duo, blaming them for nearly every controversy they found themselves embroiled in, even when, sometimes, it didn't look like they were to blame. Personally, I have a soft spot in my heart for musicians' bratty behavior. What is more punk than Johnny Rotten and Iggy Pop pissing everyone off, and when did rock and roll become polite anyway? For their part, Crystal Castles' bratty stance found its way into their debut making for a truly satisfying mix of dance and punk. Mainman Ethan Kath built the band's sound out of the remnants of video game bleeps and Italo Disco, but subverted it every step of the way, turning influences and references on their head while vocalist Alice Glass' scream lacerated listeners when they got too cozy or things got too chill.

Now the band that so many loved to hate are back. Rather than pay heed to the naysayers and their own bad press, the band has wisely decided to focus on what matters most - the music. Given the end result, Glass and Kath should be feeling pretty vindicated, since once again they have produced one hell of a record. The album skips the sophomore slump altogether and finds the band expanding on their original sound, exploring new territory and making great leaps in all sorts of different directions, and while I can't honestly say it is better than their debut, it is just as good, only in a different way.

The album noisily kicks off with the pulsating punky "Fainting Spells." The song sounds like anarchy being unleashed in the streets with Glass commanding destruction through a bullhorn. It's invigorating stuff, but not exactly indicative of what awaits on the other side of the barricades. While there are moments of chaos and disorder scattered throughout the album, the awesome "Doe Deer" being a highlight, for the most part the band eschews the bratty punk of their debut in exchange for an emphasis on pop and dance. While this may spoil the Castles for a few listeners, most will find plenty to love in the band's new approach. Songs like "Celestica" "Empathy" and "Suffocation" find the band producing what is hands down the best pop dance music in years. If there were any justice in the world, this is what would count for popular music among the masses. It is easily as accessible as any Beyonce or Lady Gaga song, and endlessly more rewarding. Other highlights include the trance damaged "Baptism" that initially sounds like a Sasha & Digweed workout, until Glass' howl demolishes all those pretty glow sticks and pacifiers, making for the worst ecstasy trip ever, and "Year of Silence," another techno-banger turned upside down by the looped vocals of Sigur Ros' Jonsi.

The band slows things down with the darkly beautiful "Violent Dreams," which owes more to Giorgio Moroder than any dance influence. Following that Glass and Kath finish out the album focusing mostly on their experimental side, with songs like the pulsating "Vietnam," which blends the Tangerine Dream and Goblin worship of acts like Oneohtrix Point Never and Emeralds with dance beats and the vocal harmonic weirdness that the Crystal Castles are known for. "Birds" and "Pap Smear" find the band further pushing the boundaries of their sonic experiments, and in doing so craft some incredibly subversive pop songs that are as challenging as they are accessible.

The album closes with "I Am Made of Chalk," a song that combines nearly every disparate element in Crystal Castles' arsenal. It's a perfect end to a near perfect album and one that exists as a statement, and a challenge, to anyone who doubts the band's musical prowess. One listen on headphones to this piece, which is by turns harrowing and beautiful, will have you convinced of the band's ability and talent. In the end, all the gutter sniping and shit talk about this band doesn't matter, what does matter is that along with Cold Cave, Crystal Castles are, and remain, the best, and most progressive, electronic-based indie rock band playing today.

Totally unofficial, but interestingly bizarre video for "Doe Deer"


"Celestica"


"Baptism" live

SUN ARAW - On Patrol (Not Not Fun)

Over the last couple of years Cameron Stallones' Sun Araw project has made some of the most intriguing music currently being produced. Mixing noise, exotica, metal, psychedelia, surf, lo-fi, dance, ambient, freak folk, and damn near anything else you could imagine, into a perfect sound forever, Sun Araw captivated with every beat, ever weird effect and every note along the way. Since 2008 Stallones has put out three eps to die for ("Beach Head," "The Phynx" & "Boat Trip") and a full length ("Heavy Deeds"). Each recording is unique, yet each have grown organically out of one another. Tied together by tribal beats and layers of jungle sound, both scary and bright, Stallones crafts travel music for both the body and mind. You can lay on your back to this while having an imaginary conversation with Colonel Kurtz on acid, or paint yourself and your Polynesian harem day-glo before engaging in some seriously heavy deeds indeed. Stallones channels in extreme light and extreme darkness, often making his music reflective of the hazy in-between. His music is the goods, plain and simple, yet nothing about this music is plain or simple.

With "On Patrol," Stallones returns after a relative period of silence for his second full length, which happens to be a double LP - least anyone thinks he was resting on his laurels between releases. As with each prior Sun Araw release, "On Patrol" is yet another evolution in Stallones' approach. Following the expansive and cosmic "Heavy Deeds," "On Patrol" finds Stallones' back here on earth slowly crawling through a waterfront urban jungle. When interviewed about the difference between "Heavy Deeds" and "On Patrol," Stallones said "Because no one can live in the 'Heavy Deeds' universe, on the Mind Planes, for serious amounts of time. Maybe some can but I can't, it's thin air up there. I started to realize that I needed an application, a way to interface and channel, allow that celestial energy to manifest itself here and now. We don't give any ground to the opposing forces, we just become skilled navigators, in the cruiser." So...yeah. But seriously, I think I understand what Stallones is getting at, in terms of scaling things down and creating a soundtrack for more earthly, but no less haunted, journeys. Indeed, "On Patrol" is the sound of Sun Araw contracting, playing with a more minimal palette and creating a darker, more lurking sound.

Early in the album touchstones that denote Sun Araw's music - disembodied vocals, repeated guitar motifs, organs and jungle drums off in the distance - appear. The difference is that in the past those elements would build into a psychedelic meltdown, whereas here Stallones allows each element to breath and linger, never edging them toward a noisy and chaotic climax. This is more spatial music than in the past. As the album progresses, Stallones increasingly trades in his tribal beats and ghostly voices for menacing drones, or minimal guitar ambiance, further drawing down his sound. He never tips the balance too far though. While a dark haze creeps across the album, Stallones doesn't take the music into anything approaching dark ambient territory. Instead, he injects those elements into the mix, coming up with something different and satisfyingly unique.

Stallones's soundscapes have always invoked imagery. His music works like a soundtrack, drawing the listener into their own private minds-eye film. "On Patrol's" titles provide plenty of hints as to what the content to that film could be here. Songs with titles like "Beat Cop," "Stakeout," "Deep Cover," "Congo Mind," "Dimension Alley," and "Holodeck Blues" paint a gritty and haunted world where ghosts, and maybe an alien or two, roam. Whether or not you are a mere observer or something else is for you to decide. Either way, as with past Sun Araw works, the album is a journey; one that will stimulate, challenge and please while adding yet another layer to Stallones' already incredible body of work.

DEEP COVER - SUN ARAW from CatCakes on Vimeo.

Sun Araw - Dimension Alley from Steph D on Vimeo.

HARVEY MILK - A Small Turn of Human Kindness (Hydra Head)

In discussing their new album "A Small Turn of Human Kindness," in this hilarious article, Harvey Milk bassist Stephen Tanner and drummer Kyle Spence described the album as such; "this was made for all the people that think Courtesy is our best album. We came up with the most pretentious music we possibly could, and since that wasn’t enough, we wrote ridiculous words about total bullshit and named the songs in the most annoying fashion we could imagine." For the most part that description sums up "A Small Turn of Human Kindness" better than I ever could. The flipside of Tanner and Spence's assessment is that in creating another song-cycle like the aforementioned, and critical favorite, "Courtesy and Good Will Toward Men," the band have crafted their finest album to date, for the very same reasons the band rags on it. Yes, it is pretentious, yes maybe the slice of a broken life lyrics are about total bullshit in the end, but then again that is the point. It is all bullshit, and Harvey Milk has always been about saying "I am sick of all this too," a lyrical refrain that runs throughout the album's songs.

In the past I admired Harvey Milk more than I loved their work enough to play it on a regular basis. Their slow as molasses doom blues and singer, Creston Spiers, who yelped his lyrics like the drunken southerner that he is was unique when the band emerged in the later half of the 90s. They took the crushingly slow heaviness of the Melvins, bluesed it up and laid waste to everything around them. At the same time, their painful lyrics about life and how not to live it made the band's music emotionally resonant. With "A Small Turn of Human Kindness" that former admiration has turned to outright love. For my money, there is no better work in the band's canon than this here album.

"A Small Turn..." is the sound of the band stripped to its core, with all that is great about the band on display, and all that was tedious or uninspired thrown by the wayside. Gone is the classic rock approach the band took following "Courtesy," on albums like "Pleaser" and to some degree "Life...The Best Game in Town," in it's place is pure doom blues that is more intense than even the legendary Dylan Carlson has ever produced since re-inventing Earth as a doom blues band.

Centered around a broken man in a broken relationship with a child on the way, the album explores the desperation inherent in any attempt for change and redemption. The war of words between man and woman, the inner and outer frustrations of each, and the constant threat of violence informs most of the album's content. The band's crushing musical approach only punctuates the characters' turmoil. The record's most rewarding moments come when the music momentarily shifts from downtrodden to victorious, reflecting brief glimpses of hope. Nowhere is this more apparent than on album centerpiece and highlight "I Alone Got Up and Left." Not only does the song contain the most poetic lyrics ever about roadkill (seriously, you may even shed a tear or two), but the music is the sound of grace in the midst of struggle. "I Did Not Call Out/Untitled," brings the drama toward a close, beginning with strings and piano and ending in violence. Like a good Tennessee Williams play the gun goes off in the final act. The final denouement is an emotional reckoning, the kind that ever other indie rock, including more intensive heavy metal, simply cannot compete with. This is serious music for serious people. You don't play it at a party, you don't play it with friends, you play it during those alone times when every note means everything. At this point this is my vote for the best album of the year, yeah it is that good.

INDIGNANT SENILITY - Plays Wagner (Type)

There is a scene in the film "Barton Fink" where the wallpaper in the hotel room of the titular character begins to bubble and peel, revealing a sickly sticky goo. The wallpaper, and its distortions, is symbolic of Fink's state of mind and his slow but certain crawl toward insanity. If there is one image that comes to mind for me while listening to Indignant Senility's epic "Plays Wagner" album, it is that wallpaper bubbling and peeling, exposing an otherworldly horror behind it.

Indignant Senility is the brainchild of a one Pat Maherr or Portland, Oregon, who has apparently tried his hand at everything from hip-hop to musique concrete. "Plays Wagner" is his foray into dark ambient. The title should be taken literally, as the source material for the album is, indeed, Richard Wagner's bombastic classical music. By the time Maherr is finished slowing it down, distorting it and submerging it in that sticky goo behind the wallpaper, though, Wagner's work is unrecognizable, save for the occasional snippet of melody that breaks through the murk only to immediately dissolve back into Maherr's gray scale work.

Classical music has served as modern ambient source material before. Wagner himself served as the source material for some of Wolfgang Voigt's highly influential Gas project. But whereas one could hear the classical origins of Gas bleed through the haze, here it is so stretched out that you wouldn't have any idea that Maherr was manipulating Wagner, without prior knowledge. Instead more apt touchstones are Philip Jeck and William Basinski, but Indignant Senility is more muted, more disturbed than either of their work. Type label head John Twells compares "Plays Wagner" to David Lynch's harrowing "Eraserhead" soundtrack. That description is apt. This is creepy and unsettling music. It may not be for everyone, but for those with a taste for dark ambient, there is plenty here to submerge yourself in while staring at the wallpaper, watching it bubble and peel.

Indignant Senility - Plays Wagner by _type

KURT VILE

Next week Matador will release Kurt Vile's new ep "Square Shells." Here is preview of the epic "Invisibility: Nonexistent"...


For those of you who still haven't treated yourself to the magic of Kurt Vile, get down to the store and grab his most excellent "Childish Prodigy" from last year. Here is what I said about that album when I ranked in my top twenty of the year for 2009:


Kurt Vile has made a hell of a name for himself over the past couple of years with the much heralded "Constant Hitmaker" on Woodsist and "God Is Saying This To You..." on Mexican Summer, which is pretty much why it is so fucking weird that "Childish Prodigy" has fallen by the wayside of notice. Is the backlash that quick these days folks? Christ it took at least five years before Mogwai and Godspeed got the slap in the face for just doing what we wanted them to do. I am a pretty big hater of backlash, and if an original artist produces an excellent album, I think they deserve all the praise in the world, which is why Kurt Vile did not cease to amaze me with "Childish Prodigy."

Present are the lo-fi americana blues hymnals of old, but with a hell of a lot more consistency than before. Nearly every song on "Childish Prodigy" is worth getting excited about. While there is a little more sonic variation than before (Vile oscillates between a full band sound, and solo guitar and effects), the songs achieves a particular type of transcendence specific to American culture. Listening to "Childish Prodigy" is sort of like driving to Colorado with Jack Kerouac and Cassidy, while listening to Hank Williams Sr. read Walt Whitman's "O Pioneers." Yeah, it's that good.


"Blackberry Song"


"Freak Train"

LCD SOUNDSYSTEM - This Is Happening (Virgin/Parlophone/DFA)

So I am walking down the street and listening to my new favorite song "Dance Yrself Clean" while struggling with a serious case of writer's block, namely how to say what I want to say about about this damn album. The song is playing and the night is one of those perfect spring nights clocking in around 72 with a breeze blowing from the west. Sure, it's pleasant now, but that breeze is the tip of a storm front ready to bring two full days of thunderstorms to my world. No need to worry about that now, just let the music sink in and feed off of some of that kinetic energy in the air. Then it all suddenly clicks, the song, the album, my immediate situation as an aged-indie rocker who still, to quote Triumph, has the "magic power of the music in me," and for a brief moment I feel enlightened, and "Dance Yrself Clean" is my soundtrack. Indeed, this is happening.

Looking back at that moment I am amazed at how James Murphy a/k/a LCD Soundsystem could create such a perfect song; one that can effect you so intensely on a personal level, but, as they used to say on American Bandstand, 'has a good beat, and you can dance to it.' He is also the same guy who, though so much self-referential irony, deflates what just happened. Nevertheless, in that moment of listening to his music, all of my own personal relations and emotions are imploded and then expanded. If there had been a camera...only if, I could have been a star, because in that moment, on that street, I was the character who finally let go of whatever baggage I was carrying around, and resolved myself to make things right, at least temporarily, much like a character in a Noah Baumbach film. After all, there was a reason Baumbach tapped Murphy to score his latest film "Greenberg." Looking back at that moment it strikes me that the success of Murphy's music is dependent on our own life experiences, our own existential situations and how well he is able to reflect them in his songs.

Over the past ten years Murphy has made a career as a chronicler, commentator and humorist, mocking the very scene he helped create. His DFA label redefined dance music, and laid the groundwork for the massive electro-clash movement that has engulfed indie rock over the past few years. Murphy himself has crafted some of the finest dance/punk/electro in existence. He has also taken a huge piss on all of it in his role as LCD Soundsystem.

I met Murphy once while he was a drummer for the much under-appreciated indie rock band Pony. He was affable and witty, even though he was sporting Scott Stapp hair. He said that ultimately he wanted to put the whole scene on display in Las Vegas. He was talking about indie rock at the time, but I have a feeling he still feels that way about the electro/punk he has wrought. I can't help but feel that LCD Soundsystem is, and has always been, his project to exploit the scene writ large in flashing colors and sparkling lights. Maybe Vegas is more of an ironic state of mind, rather than a geographical location.

Irony aside, as we age there is a tendency to want our life and the music in it to mean something. We will, on occasion, step back and take stock in where we are and where we have been, and who we are and who we have been. Through all of the irony, Murphy's music has gradually become a reflection of that aging process within a subculture bound together by shared musical experiences, similar interests and values shaped by D.I.Y. culture, as well as our struggles to remain authentic when interacting with the "real world," as our parents used to call it.

The younger kids may not get it yet, as this Hipster Runoff critique eludes to, ironically or not.

But they will.

This is hipster music for aged-hipsters. It may be a turn-off for some, but "This is Happening" is the best adult music album since the heyday of the Talking Heads, which will surely please Mr. Murphy to no end, since it is clear that David Byrne and Brian Eno are as much responsible for "This Is Happening" as is Murphy.

There are other influences at work here as well, nearly all immediately recognizable to those of us who came of age in the 80's (OMD ("I Can Change"), Depeche Mode and Meat Beat Manifesto ("One Touch"), and Talking Heads' side group Tom Tom Club), but the Head's "Speaking in Tongues" is the most obvious point of reference, both in substance and style. I doubt that pointing out that this album sounds like someone else is going to bother Murphy too much, since he has always worn his influences on his sleeve. What has elevated him as an artist is the emergence his own unique personality and voice, a voice that has grown stronger with each subsequent album.

He has turned from bratty satirist into a thoughtful commentator. "Pow Pow" is an epic dissection of right v. left, hip v. uptight, white v. black that provides more food for thought than any position or answers. "You Wanted A Hit," finds Murphy entrenching himself to maintain his authenticity in the face of increasing popularity as a musician. "You wanted a hit, but maybe we don't do hits, I try and I try and it ends up feeling kind of wrong," Murphy sings over his most minimal composition on the album, promising that this is still our music, not theirs, no matter how many units it sells. On the more personal songs, "All I Want," and "I Can Change," there is a new directness to Murphy's exploration of human emotions in the face of breakdowns and breakups.

If there is any drawback to "This is Happening," it is that it isn't as immediately satisfying as the extraordinary "Sound of Silver." Instead the album reveals itself over time making for a satisfying long-term commitment. That lack of immediacy is part and parcel of Murphy's maturation on "This is Happening," and while Murphy may have traded in easy fun for thoughtfulness, some listeners may not find as much to love here. For those with the ears to listen though, "This is Happening" is an expansion of Murphy's many talents and one that will become your new soundtrack if you let it.

"Drunk Girls"


"All I Want"


"You Wanted A Hit"

JAPANDROIDS - No Singles (Polyvinyl)

Once upon a time before the internets, bands could, and usually did, struggle for years in obscurity before constant touring and word of mouth spread them to a larger audience. By the time a band from, say, Chapel Hill, or San Pedro, found their way to a teenager's ears in Indianapolis, they may have already produced a couple of albums and more than a few singles and eps. Part of the joy in discovering a new band was seeking out their back catalog. Maybe not everything your new favorite band had previously recorded was revelatory, but you always came across some tracks that ended up changing your life once you unearthed them. It was fun to dig through record store bins looking for those buried treasures. There was always a sense of accomplishment that came with finding a 7" you thought you would never actually get to hold in your hands, let alone take home in a brown paper bag and put on your turntable. In many ways those days were a lot more rewarding than now.

For many, crate digging has been replaced by simply pointing and clicking on an mp3. The internet has changed the game entirely for musicians. An artist can literally achieve overnight recognition based on the strength of a single posted on the web. Right now there are bands who have yet to release a single album, but garner a ridiculous amount of buzz based solely on a couple of internet-only tracks. Over this past week alone, the bands Male Bonding and Sleigh Bells released debut albums in the wake of what would have been unthinkable hype twenty years ago. Long gone are the days when an artist grew their audience organically.

Last year Japandroids were one of those bands whose very success depended entirely on the existence of the internet. The Vancouver based band seemed to come out of nowhere with their debut "Post-Nothing." The band's fist-pumping brand of indie rock - emphasis on the rock - caught on, and eventually the mp3-only album found its way to vinyl and cd. By the end of the year the band found themselves enjoying notice on many a critic's "best of" list. It's entirely possible, and probable, that without the internet very few would have even heard their debut album, much less propelled them toward the upper echelons of indierockdom with a spot at Pitchfork and now "No Singles," a 180gram reissue of their first two eps; 2007's "All Lies" and "Lullaby Death Jams" from 2008.

Oddly enough, because neither of these two eps were widely known before "Post-Nothing," and because of the sound of each, "No Singles" conjures those days of old when crate digging was the preferred method of uncovering the buried treasure left behind by your new favorite band. That old school vibe and the thrill of discovering lost gems is a big part of the charm of this record. It's kind of like listening to Archers of Loaf's "Speed of Cattle" after being blown away by "Icky Mettle" (sorry if you are too young to have missed that experience). Archers' debut, "Icky Mettle" is the perfect indie rock album, as is Japandroids' "Post-Nothing." Since a fan can't help but be excited when they discover that their new favorite band has a back catalog waiting to be explored, fans of "Post-Nothing" will not only find a reason to be excited by the prospect of "No Singles", but will also find more than a few nuggets to celebrate here.

Songs like "No Allegiance to the Queen," and "Press Corps" lay the groundwork for what was to come with "Post-Nothing." Both songs are early examples of the stripped down rock anthems that would make up that record. What is more interesting about "No Singles," though, are the songs that find the band searching for their sound, the songs that sound like someone else, but still thrill. Live favorite "Darkness At The Edge of Gas Town," is a prime example. Darker and more epic than anything on "Post-Nothing," the song sounds like something that might have emerged out of the Midwest in the wake of the Pixies back in the early 90s. It's heavy in both sound and naked emotion. Think early Afghan Whigs, but with less groove and more noise. Highlight "Sexual Aerosol" comes close to what would eventually become the band's sound, but it also owes more than a tip of the hat to bands like Seam and Superchunk. Then there are punk and post-punk barnstormers like "Lovers/Strangers," "Avant Sleepwalk," and "To Hell With Good Intentions." They may not add too much to the development of either the band or punk, but they provide more than enough fuel to fire up the listener. One of the most interesting nuggets here is "Lucifer's Symphony." Like "Gas Town," it is a dark and epic track that finds no corollary in "Post-Nothing." The track combines the post-punk influence evidenced on many of "No Singles"' tracks, with early 90s proto-grunge indie rock of bands like Dinosaur Jr. and Sonic Youth. It's undeniably powerful and intriguing, leaving the listener to wonder if the band will ever incorporate this kind of bleak intensity into their post-"Post-Nothing" sound. It could be a hell of a thing if they did.

"No Singles," is ultimately a fan album. For the most part, it's enjoyment is proportionate to one's appreciation and knowledge of "Post-Nothing." It isn't that these songs aren't really good, many of them are, but they are the sound of the band still searching for its voice. Now that Japandroids have found that voice, and become one of the most invigorating rock bands playing today, the majority of these songs are best appreciated in the context of the band's development. Make no mistake though, songs like "Lucifer," "Aerosol" and "Press Corps" are exactly the kind of tracks that made all that crate digging back in the day so rewarding.

"No Allegiance To The Queen" live


"Heart Sweats/Darkness At The Edge of Gas Town" live


"Lucifer's Symphony"

THE NATIONAL - High Violet (4AD)

The National are a true anomaly, in part, oddly, because they appear so normal. On closer inspection, though, there are cracks below the surface that bespeak of deep and troubled waters. The band's music explores the dark underbelly of modern love and life in the manner of a sophisticate, but one that isn't above finding themselves in the gutter Sunday morning. They are accessible, and much loved by everyone from indie rockers to dad rockers, but their songs probably shouldn't be playing in anybody's crossover minivan. Children really shouldn't listen too closely to the lyrics, obtuse as they may be at times. This isn't Wilco. They write subtle, but ornate, ballads as well as massive anthems that rival those of Arcade Fire. They wear suits, but don't shave. Maybe the closest comparison one can make to a modern band is that of Radiohead. Yes, they are immensely popular, but they are respectable, and they reflect the existential dilemmas of a lived and conscious life. Also, as with Radiohead, The National are one of the few examples of a great band becoming big.

Yet, and here is the kicker, I have yet to listen to a Nation album and love it on the first listen regardless of how accessible they seem. There are always songs that jump out, like "Fake Empire" or "Slow Show" from their breakthrough album "Boxer," but other songs are far too subtle to catch the first time. Because those couple of tracks that grab your immediate attention are so amazing, you can't help but return to the record and, as with most truly great records, other songs slowly reveal themselves on repeat listens until you end up with a fully formed masterwork with each album.

"High Violet" is no different. Opener "Terrible Love," is one of those hooks that will keep you coming back for more until the rest sticks. It's one of the band's big anthematic songs, with soaring harmonies, massive percussion and furious guitar playing. Yet, even if this is the kind of thing we expect from The National, there is a change in tone here from records past. Unlike "Boxer" and even "Alligator" the sound here is less celebratory. Even on big numbers like "Terrible Love," the band sounds constricted and withdrawn making for a more troubled, melancholic sound.

The National have always been men on the verge of breakdown, but here they sound closer to the edge than ever. Gone is the darkly romantic bravado of past. In it's place is the regretful and world-weary sound of guys facing middle-age with fear and loathing in their hearts, but not the kind that finds you changing in your high-school sweetheart for that blond in the sports car, it's much more authentic than that. It's the kind of internal war that occurs when you wake up from the sleep of convention, it can be dangerous and self-destructive, but at least it's self-aware and honest.

Tracks like the paranoid-infused "Afraid of Everyone" and "Conversation 16," a snapshot of middle class domesticity tinged with murder fantasies, strike at the heart of this unrest. For their part, the band keeps their sound tightly controlled with a professional and seemingly mundane veneer. Whereas in the past, the National's music was at times bombastic, and nearly always transparent in the end, here they have foregone stately baroque statements for subtle flourishes that make the songs denser and more opaque. Throughout, the band's performance belies increasing complexity and conflict just beneath the surface, similar to the songs' protagonists struggling to contain their troubled minds.

Singer Matt Berninger's baritone is the perfect instrument to convey the emotional turmoil of "High Violet." Berninger has always been one of the band's greatest assets. Here he elevates languid ballads "Runaway" and "Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks," with such a rich delivery that when the trumpets, trombones and strings rise from the songs' depths to provide an instrumental climax, all they can do is to follow in Berninger's wake. He elevates both songs to such heights that they end up being two of the album's best, something that wouldn't be the case under a lesser singer.

If there is one misstep on "High Violet" it is the placement of "Sorrow" and "Anybody's Ghost" right at the beginning of the album. Both songs are lesser National and while it's hard to be totally immune to "Sorrow's" slightly agitated pace, and the superb lyrical delivery of "Anybody's Ghost," both songs are two of the closest things here to filler and both slow the album down after the explosive opener of "Terrible Love." It isn't until the excellent "Little Faith," that the album actually finds its groove, but by then a few listeners may have tuned out. That's unfortunate, because what awaits the listener after these early stumbles is an incredibly subtle, but extraordinary work.

"High Violet" proves that regardless of appearances, The National are anything but normal. Just beneath the surface is a hidden world that is easy to miss on first impression. If you keep trying, though, "High Violet" will reveal one of the deepest, richest and most complex bands making music today.

TWILIGHT - Monument to Time End (Southern Lord)

Known for its adherence to strict rules (lo-fi production, blast beats, tremolo guitar picking, tortured vocals and nihilistic lyrical content), black metal has increasingly found itself in an internal debate as more and more artists expand their sound outside of the narrow confines of the genre to incorporating ambient, doom, sludge, stoner, prog, post-rock, and even pop into their sound. Artists like Xasthur have chosen to turn their back on the genre entirely, announcing last month that his newest album would be his last black metal release, while others are simply expanding on the black metal template and trusting that fans will embrace their experiments in sound.

While some purist have screamed foul, to put it nicely, there is a whole other contingent of open minded fans of black metal, of which I'll count myself a part of. Sure, maybe we don't take to message boards and defend Xasthur like we should (because we do have lives), but we buy his albums, support his musical decisions, and are in awe of his work, whether it is his first blasted album, or his last dark atmospheric collaboration with Marissa Nadler. So while some purists may hate the evolution of seasoned black metal artists, fans of extreme boundary pushing music have had a lot to be thankful for.

In the midst of this ridiculously insular and contentious environment, Twilight has returned with their second groundbreaking album "Monument To Time End." Twilight emerged in 2005 as a sort of United States Black Metal supergroup at the height of the USBM movement. Comprised of such scene luminaries as Malefic (Xasthur), Wrest (Leviathan), Imperial (Krieg) and Blake Judd (Nachtmystium), the band's debut pushed the boundaries of black metal, by combining thrash with black metal in the manner of Immortal, but it still remained firmly entrenched within the confines of each artists' respective sound. After a fallout with Southern Lord label head, and one half of Sunn 0))), Greg Anderson, Xasthur quit the band. In his stead now is Aaron Turner of Isis fame, also along for the ride is Sanford Parker (Minsk), Stavros Giannopolous (Atlas Moth) and Rob Lowe (Lichens). Together they have produced one of the most complex and mind blowing metal releases in years. After listening to "Monument to Time End," it really doesn't matter about any of the absurd internal politics in the black metal scene. The fact is that the crossbreeding of black metal with so many other heavy influences has finally produced its own "De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas." Yes, this album is that good.

The album explodes with "The Cryptic Ascension," a massively heavy track that owes more to Turner's Isis and Nachtmystium's new experiments in sound, than any black metal. If it weren't for Imperial's screeched vocals there would be nothing initially to denote this as anything even remotely related to black metal. To top it off, Lowe's haunting vocals lift the song towards a nearly transcendental realm before Wrest flexes his muscle with an incredible blast beat workout and the guitars turn from spacious chords to that traditional "Burzum buzz" of tremelo picked guitar. "Fall Behind Eternity" follows and begins with simple doom/post-rock inflected guitar, while Wrest's drums build the song slowly before it expands into a killer amalgom of blast beats/war drums and thunderous guitar riffs. Yet even here, on a more traditionally black metal number, there are so many complex spiderweb intricacies to be uncovered that the song rewards many repeat listens even before the post-metal breakdown toward the end. "8000 Years" and "Red Fields" continue the band's amazing run to comprise the most consistently superb first side of any album, metal or not, in recent history. Each song combines variant strains of metal, particularly Neurosis inspired post-metal, with blackened elements. The songs are not only intensely heavy, but are surprisingly, dare I say, oddly beautiful at times. There is something powerfully uplifting about these tracks, regardless of their dark origin. They sound like victory after immense struggle.

The album's second half kicks off with a blizzard of grimness. "Convulsions in Wells of Fever" and "Decaying Observer" both follow a traditional black metal template, but both are coated with a sheen of atmospheric guitars and a spacious production that allows each of the musician's talents, of which there are plenty, to shine through. Both pieces illuminate the basic differences in approach by Twilight from traditional black metal artists. Whereas most "true kvlt" black metal is steeped in lo-fi production, Sanford Parker's production on "Monument to Time End" is anything but. There is an expansiveness and crispness to these tracks that may turn off the purists, but when you have a band with as many talented musicians as Twilight, it would be a travesty to drown their contributions in garbage can production.

The band closes things out with "Negative Signal Omeg," a doom dirge that juxtaposes Imperial's mighty screech against lo-end effects and vocal harmonies, as mournful guitars boil under the surface. As with any track here, the song benefits from close inspection, revealing small flourishes that sets Twilight's work apart, making them wholly unique from any other metal project out there. Simply put this is the most powerful, most heavy and most perfectly executed metal album so far this year. For fans of such divergent acts as Mastodon and Burzum there is easily a lot to love in this modern metal classic.

"8,000 Years"


"Red Fields"


"Convulsions in Wells of Fever"

THE NATIONAL - High Violet (Preview)

Next week will see the release of the National's superb new album "High Violet." Look for a full review on this page Monday. Until then, prepare yourself with this preview of live tracks from the album...

"Terrible Love"


"Little Faith"


"Runaway"


"Bloodbuzz Ohio"

MAGIC LANTERN - Platoon (Not Not Fun)

Nearly every perfunctory review I have read of Magic Lantern's "Platoon" compares it to Hendrix and talks a lot about how painful it is to hear a Hendrix imitation, because, and this is true, only Hendrix can do Hendrix without sounding like shite. The problem with this simplistic reduction is that Hendrix is only an influence on Magic Lantern's second LP (as is a lot of other psyche rockers like Amon Düül II, Pärson Sound and Ash Ra Tempel), his legacy is not the only thing at play here, and this is far from a Stevie Ray Vaughn record.

Magic Lantern is often sold as Cameron Stallones', a/k/a the much beloved round these parts, Sun Araw, "band." Although, actual history shows that Sun Araw came about while Stallones was working on Magic Lantern demos, and realized that what he was doing on his own was of a different vibe from his work with the band. So while Magic Lantern does sounds like a band that has Cameron Stallones as a member, and some songs bare his imprint more than others, it isn't fair to call this Cameron Stallones' band. "Platoon" is the work of a solid lock groove jam unit, with each of the five members adding their own voice to the mix.

While "Moon Lagoon Platoon," does sound a hell of a lot like a Sun Araw damaged tune, songs like the pounding "Planar/Sonor" rock out far more than anything Stallones has done on his own. The percussion heavy piece pulsates at first with a repeated psyche guitar squelch, but eventually grows into a dark and heated jam of epic proportions, culminating with heavy climactic stops and starts. Other songs like "On the Dime," and "Dark Cicadas" do bare that Hendrix influence, but it is shot through the filter of so many of the lost, obscure dusty soul and kraut grooves that have found their way onto many a hipster's turntable in recent years. "Friendship" ends the album on a grand note, with something akin to the Experience jamming with Sun Araw, backed by Phil Cohran & The Artistic Heritage Ensemble. It's a massive burner and one that is so good that you don't care if this does indeed resemble more than a passing glance to Hendrix.

Magic Lantern may not be reinventing the wheel, but they are a hell of a lot more powerful and fun than most stodgy Hendrix wannabes or crappy psyche jam bands. This is a psyche jam band that is actually good, and I mean good in the way that those of us who hate jam bands can dig. Their power lies mainly in their ability to lay down muscular guitar flourishes over heavy grooves. Yeah, maybe there will be some asshole doing the hippie dance to this stuff, but there may also be a hesher banging his head as well, while some hipster decked out in American Apparel leggings gets her groove on in the corner.

Some Magic Lantern live


Poor video, but decent audio of "Dark Cicadas" live